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Chapter Text

Things hadn’t been the same for Draco when he had returned to Hogwarts that year. First of all, there was the fact that so many people were gone. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he almost missed Vince’s stable, idiotic yes, but stable and present presence behind him, cackling at his lame jokes.

Greg was hardly the same without his buffoon of a friend: the two had always just seemed to understand each other, but now Greg spent time reading - oh, Salazar, Draco had thought he was joking about being able to read - and eating his problems away.

Another noticeable issue with Hogwarts now was that a lot of people had lost respect for all Slytherins after the war. Of course this was completely understandable, even if Draco’s pride had most definitely taken a hit this year - his withering glares no longer had the desired effect, and rather frustratingly enough, often resulted in a none-too-pleasant hex.

That being said, it had allowed for him to brush up on his defensive, rather than being always on the offensive. McGonagall had sternly warned all of the students dubbed Eighth Years that they were to be on their best behavior, and that they were to set only the best example for those in the younger levels.

She had, of course, away from everyone else, also pointed out explicitly that Draco was hanging on a thread as of the now, and should he slip up, The Ministry would not be forgiving. He was fortunate to be at Hogwarts after all that had conspired last year, the teachers had to be swayed, it was only because he was such an exemplary student, etcetera, etcetera. Oh, and also the fact that Saint Potter - Draco wrinkled his nose in disdain at the thought of the speccy git - had vouched for him as well, pleading to The Ministry, and the courts, loudly proclaiming that Draco had saved his life.

Draco had done it because he was scared, and Potter had saved him in return, but Draco had chosen wisely to not mention that whilst he was on the verge of being thrown into Azkaban. But, Potter. That was the other thing that had changed spectacularly this year. The blasted idiot had managed to elevate his status even further - whilst Draco’s had dropped drastically below all visible depths - now that he had defeated the Dark Lord.

What irked Draco most was that no-one would stop talking about their precious saviour.

As if Potter needed a bigger head.

Draco chose this moment to glance up from his pudding and sneer at the Boy Who Lived Far Too Many Times. Stupid Potter with his stupid glasses, his rumpled robes, and stupidly messly just-been-shagged hair. He just had to look like an imbecile as well!

He was chattering amicably with the Weasel and Granger, - apparently they had finally gotten together and Merlin forbid, they would have the foulest children: frizzy red haired prats with buck teeth and a penchant of not knowing when to shut up - whilst Finnigan and Thomas snogged unabashedly behind the Golden Trio, causing Longbottom to squirm uncomfortably and in the process, spill his drink all over himself.

Gryffindorks.

Two years ago, Draco would have no problem with saying Potions was his favourite subject - what with all the Potter-bashing that Snape indulged in - but with Slughorn, everything was different.

For one, Slughorn seemed unable to see that Potter was a hopeless case, and doted on him in such a disgusting manner that continued regardless of Potter’s poxy Potion abilities - or lack thereof. Draco’s immense distaste at the Slug may also have attributed to their mutual distaste for each other.

The Slug’s ludicrous favouritism worked out for some people, however, and one of those people was Blaise Zabini, the twat extraordinaire. Zabini may have been one of Draco’s closer mates - especially since both Theo and Pansy had been on a mission over the past year to shag anything that breathed, male or female (albeit one had been more successful than the other), and Greg had been reduced to a vegetable - but he was one of the ‘esteemed’ members of the infamous Slug Club.

Which meant old Sluggy loved him too. Almost as much as Potter, dare he say.

Draco stirred the mixture in the cauldron clockwise carefully, and crushed the beetle with the flat side of a knife, before depositing it in even amounts into his concoction. He had distractedly glanced at Blaise - who was working at a bench with Potty, due to Greg pleading sick after scoffing too many cakes last night - to the side, only to see him yawn a little and drop the whole beetle carelessly into the potion.

A bright blue flume exploded from the cauldron and Draco hid a smirk. Neither Potter - because he was eyeing Draco shamelessly and Draco was pretending not to notice - nor Blaise seemed fazed by this, but it had Slughorn waddling over as fast as he could. Pansy glanced over Draco’s shoulder at their own cauldron and nodded her assent, as Draco with a smirk of satisfaction watched it turn into the translucent aquamarine it was to end up.

Of course, Blaise and Potter’s combined efforts had gone to waste - not that either of them had seemed particularly invested in the lesson - and yet Slughorn seemed blissfully unaware of their dunderhead actions. “Nonsense, boys.” He had replied jovially to Potter’s hurriedly repeated apologies, “You almost had it! Next time, next time. I’ll give you an E for effort!”

Draco scowled into his cauldron, and then did a double take as Blaise seemed to whisper something to Potter and brush his fingers up Potter’s arm, giving him a fond smile.

Draco elbowed Pansy in the ribs and she glared up from her nails only to glance over at the Potter-Zabini exchange when Draco indicated for her to do so. Her eyes widened marginally and the two watched as Blaise shot a coy grin at Potter, causing the git to blush a delicious hue of pink.

No, not delicious, Draco panicked as his own thoughts caught up to him, disgusting.

He spent the rest of the lesson brooding over his cauldron whilst Pansy read the instructions and he shot subtle glares at his so-called best mate flirting with the bloody Saviour.

Pansy had flung herself at Blaise as soon as class had been dismissed, “Baby, were you cheating on me with Saint Potter?”

Blaise snorted - though Draco did notice perceptively that his dark skin had darkened even further at the mention of Potter - and wrapped an arm around Pansy’s shoulders,

“Babe, are you sure you know the meaning of loyalty?”

Pansy glared at him with mock hurt, “Blaise, honey, there is no-one for me, but you.”

Blaise snorted, “And everyone else in this bloody school.”

“Baby if it means that much to you, I can call it all off, I’ll be yours.”

Blaise smirked at this, before sniffing dramatically, “I’ve moved on, Panse. Moved on to bigger, better things.” He pondered silently for a moment, “Shiny, Golden things.” He winked at this and sauntered away, with his hands in his robes, leaving a stunned Draco and Pansy staring at his wake.

“Do you think-”

“No way.” Draco refused to think too much about the fact that Blaise hadn’t explicitly denied being in a relationship with Potter.

Draco had forgotten all the Blaise-Potter drama when he woke up, sated by his dreamless sleep. He’d slicked his hair back with a hair potion, scrubbed his teeth, and even hummed a little as he showered, before dressing quickly. It was going to be a good day.

Hopefully.

No one else in his dorm was awake yet. Blaise had flung himself across his bed messily, a hand gripped tightly on the Slytherin-green fabric that hung from his four poster. Nott - the bloody tosser - had half his body dangling off the bed precariously, his hands brushing the floor and his mouth opened wide as he snored loudly. Draco had a good mindto cast a silencio on him and was certain there was drool coming from that dark orifice. Greg had curled into a tight ball and was murmuring in his sleep, his eyes squeezed shut as if reliving something painful.

Draco’s heart lurched uncomfortably at this - it was after all, partly his fault that Crabbe had died. If only he hadn’t insisted they look for stupid Potter. He almost hit his head on his own four poster as unpleasant thoughts plagued him, his good mood draining in a matter of seconds.
Stupid Potter. He just had to ruin everything. With a scowl repainting itself on Draco’s pale features, he slipped into his robe, wrapped a scarf around his neck and exited the dorm silently, gliding through the dungeons with Snape-like elegance. He almost missed the slimy professor.

He continued up to the ground floor and swept into the Great Hall with accomplished elegance that made him smirk in self-satisfactory glee. Not that there was anyone around to see him. Because Potter was passed out and spread across the Gryffindor table like he was the feast itself. Draco winced at the visuals that presented him and immediately backtracked.

He stepped back out of the Great Hall, shaking his head clear of the unsettling imagery that he had conjured - him nibbling at Potter’s beautifully creamy skin (Witch Weekly’s words, not his), who was thrashing rather inappropriately under him, licking the stupid scar, and bollocks, what was wrong with him? He couldn’t possibly - no - be attracted to Potter, could he?

He snorted at the thought and dismissed it - of course not - before turning and deciding to seek refuge in the library, where he hoped to get started on his Arithmancy homework before breakfast.

Draco had not made it far, however, when he was accosted by Daphne Greengrass. He resisted the urge to groan out loud as the blonde flung herself enthusiastically at him, gripping his wrists and batting her eyelashes in a strange fluttery manner. “Why’re you up so early, Dray?”

He motioned soundlessly to the books he carried and the girl laughed loudly, “Oh silly me, of course. You’re so studious, Dray.” She bit her lip and Draco wished with all his might that she would stop calling him Dray and that hopefully she’d bite her lip off.

She lowered her eyelids in what she probably thought was an attractive manner - Merlin, Draco didn’t know what went on in that crazy wench’s mind - and her voice lowered as well, in - perhaps, but not at all - an attempt to sound seductive. “How ‘bout you study me, Dray? I could show you a good time.”

Draco tried not to visibly wince at her obvious advances and carefully pried her wandering hands from his chest, “Thanks, but no thanks. I have,” he coughed, “things to attend to.”

He wrenched himself away from her and his legs couldn’t carry him fast enough as he fled in a very un-Malfoy-ish manner.

“I know what you’re doing, Draco! You’re playing hard to get, and I will get you!” Draco shuddered again and disappeared.

An hour later, the castle was alight as students bustled around to get to their breakfast and to their various places to be. Draco moved at a leisurely pace back to the Great Hall - though he did keep an eye out for any Greengrasses watching him: Daphne wasn’t the only Greengrass keen on winning Draco’s affections - flanked by a bickering Pansy and Theo. Greg was still asleep and Blaise was nowhere to be seen.
“... with Potter?”

Draco glanced back distractedly at Pansy who had been trying to ask him a question, and about Potter, no less. His expression soured. “Hmm?”

“You don’t think Blaise is with Potter, do you?”

Theo snorted at this, “Like Potter would go for Zabini. Potter’s fit as hell and Blaise is a right old pillock.” Draco blanched at his words and resisted the urge to hurl at the use of ‘fit’ and ‘Potter’ in the same sentence. Liar, his mind provided unhelpfully, remember this morning, Draco? How you thought of you and Potter do- he quickly cut off that train of thought and felt a red tint rising to his pale skin.

Pansy thought for a bit, the two ignoring Draco’s reddened face, “Nah, Blaise is decent looking though. I mean he has nice…” She paused and tried to think of a suitable compliment, “He has a nice… He has a nice arse.”

Theo snorted again, “You would know, you great slag.”

Pansy smiled sweetly at him, “You’re just jealous because I’ve been with more girls than you have.” Theo choked on his air and Pansy redirected her gaze to Draco, “In fact I’ve been with more girls than everyone in your dorm combined.”

Theo whined, “That’s not fair, Goyle doesn’t speak, Zabini is as bent as can be and everyone’s scared of Draco.”

Pansy looked at Draco, scanning his body in a manner that made him feel violated, and he wrapped his arms around his torso as if to hide from her penetrating gaze, “Nope, Draco is just unattainable for reasons undisclosed.”

Draco frowned and then sighed thoughtfully, “I wish Daphne and Astoria were scared of me.”

Pansy sent him a calculated smirk as the three sat down at the Slytherin table. Draco looked across the Hall, expecting to see the Chosen Git, but of course, Potter was nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps he really was with Blaise. Doing what?

You know, his mind filled the blank, everything you wanted to do to him. They’re probably together right now, in an empty classroom, and Blaise is probably nibbling on that creamy Gryffindor skin.

Shut up, he hissed to his subconscious, but an uncomfortable feeling had settled in his stomach.

There was no way he was jealous of the prospect of Blaise and Potter. He was simply… disgusted by the fact that his friend would stoop so low. Of course, yes.

It was that simple. It had nothing to do with the fact that Draco had somewhat of a Potter problem - even though he had come to accept that in Sixth Year.

In retrospect, he realised it was probably better that both Blaise and Potter were missing, because the morning mail came and the entire Hall exploded in an uproar. Draco found out for himself when the Daily Prophet landed neatly in Theo’s plate with the words “HARRY POTTER: THE CHOSEN ONE CHOSES MEN” stamped in bold across the front page.

Stupid Potter had made headlines again, and for the third time this month, it was about his lovelife.

What disturbed Draco most wasn’t Pansy cackling in glee or Theo turning white enough that his pallor rivalled Draco’s naturally snowy complexion. It was the image that accompanied the article, Photo-Potter pressed up against a brick wall in Hogsmeade somewhere, mouth open in a completely indecent moan and a male figure trailing kisses down the column of Potter’s neck.

The article had dubbed him as “Harry Potter’s mystery beau” but from the polar-opposite reactions from the two people on either side of him, it was obvious that the three had recognised the “secret lover” immediately from the back of his head, with the cropped black hair and tall, awkward physique.
Bloody Zabini. What did he think he was pulling? Having not-so-secret rendezvous with stupid Potter of all people.

Theo looked like he was going to faint as Pansy prodded him, demanding he pay up his five galleons, for Blaise Zabini did indeed look to be shagging the very gay Saviour of the Wizarding World.

Defense was a disaster that afternoon. Draco was completely distracted, and having been partnered with the Weasel, everything seemed a hundred times worse.

The infuriating Weasel had been insulting Draco more than he’d been trying to hex him, as the two practised duelling, although Draco’s head was somewhere else altogether.

Some greater God had clearly played a hand in the fact that Blaise and Potter were partnered together, on the opposite side of the room, with Potter’s fingers wrapped around Blaise’s wrist, guiding him through the movements of a protective shield.

The only reassurance Draco had was the fact that stupid Weaselby seemed as put off by this as himself. Though, it was everyday that oneself - a proud and righteous Gryffindor, Draco snorted - saw their best mate practically holding hands with a nasty, slimy Slytherin.

Weasley glanced again at Potter who now had his left hand positioned on Blaise’s waist, and was standing behind him, his right hand holding his wrist. Draco took advantage of the Weasel’s distraction and immediately sent a tripping jinx in his direction, watching with glee as he shrieked loudly and fell down, his eyes torn from the Blaise-Potter fraternizing.

Of course, this also meant everyone else in the room was drawn to his stupidly loud squeak and their professor hurried over, tutting as Weasley moaned loudly as if he were dying. “Bloody ferret, trying to kill me?”

Draco rolled his eyes - it wasn’t his fault that Weaselby was an uncoordinated git who couldn’t even concentrate in class. Besides, who died from tripping over in Defense class?

Professor Dumphrie fussed over him for a while before telling everyone to go back to what they were working on. Weasley looked up to shoot a withering glare at Draco - which Draco ignored happily - and then looked someplace over Draco’s shoulder and his eyes widened, his face paling and mouth gaping open.

He looked like a fish, and a fish out of water at that.

Draco looked over his shoulder only to see Blaise completely wrapped up in Potter, their mouths seemingly sewn together. In the middle of class. They were snogging. Shamelessly.

A loud hoot went up from Finnigan, and there were whistles as well, “Get it Harry!”

Draco gulped and suddenly he felt as queasy as the Weasel.

“Bloody hell.” Weasley murmured. Draco watched his best mate grope at the Boy Who Lived Twice’s arse and the Weasel passed out beside him with a faint murmur.

Draco hadn’t expected anything else, but by the time dinner rolled around, there wasn’t anyone in the entire of Hogwarts talking about the scandalous relationship Potter had engaged in, and with a Slytherin nonetheless. “I heard they’ve been together for months.” A girl whispered behind Draco as he trudged halfheartedly to the Great Hall.

What if that was true? Surely Blaise would have told them.

“Well, I heard that they were together before the war and Zabini was Potter’s motivation to get through it all.”

The girl from earlier swooned annoyingly behind him, “That’s so romantic, Zabini is a lucky bastard.”

“I wish I had a Harry Potter.” The two Ravenclaw girls giggled and Draco marched determinedly away from them, only to come face to face with Potter himself.

His mouth quirked up good naturedly, “Malfoy.”

Draco’s mouth ran dry, images of Potter sprawled over a table, just for him came to mind and he suddenly found it hard to breathe, “Potter.” It came out a little more breathy than he would have liked.

Potter nodded with an all-knowing grin, “I guess I’ll see you later?” His eyes sparkled and Draco found his heart beating erratically. Were Potter’s eyes always that green? Salazar, they were greener than the Slytherin crest. They were greener than fresh, dewy grass on a spring day, they were green as-

Stop it, you fool: you can’t possibly be checking out your mate’s boyfriend.

Draco shook his head to clear his thoughts - he was beyond denying that he found Potter a little bit, just a tiny bit, attractive - and then disappeared through the crush of Hogwarts students, sitting gracefully into his place beside Pansy, who immediately latched onto him.

“Is it true?” She gripped tighter into his arm, “I heard from Macmillan that they were practically going at it during Defense.”

“Who?” Draco was still in a daze.

“Potter and Blaise, you daft twit.”

Draco sneered at the mention of the two, “Yes, it was ridiculous. They clearly have no dignity, or respect for others whatsoever.”

Blaise dropped in front of them onto the bench at the Slytherin table, with a lap full of Potter. “Who has no dignity, or respect for others?”

Draco bit back the urge to snarl, “You!” Instead he settled for sneering at the aforementioned Potter who looked utterly flustered, sitting at a table full of Slytherins.

Pansy immediately leaned forwards with a wry grin, “So, tell me Potter, is Blaise as good of a lay as he was when I had him?”

Potter seemed to light up a hundred shades of red and Blaise laughed softly, brushing his lips against Potter’s ear in a disgustingly endearing manner. “Leave him alone, Pansy.”

Potter grinned his Saviour smile gratefully at Blaise and Draco felt his stomach turn. Why didn’t Potter smile at him like that? Not that he wanted to of course. It was just unusual, and vaguely disturbing how couple-y he and Blaise were.

And that wouldn’t do.

Because it was disgusting.

Potter was disgusting.

“No!” Theo cried as Blaise entered the dorm, with a blushing Potter in tow, “You are not shagging him within a ten metre radius of me!” Potter turned even redder at that, and Blaise smirked at Theo, “Go sleep in the common room, then.”

Theo groaned, “No, either way, I don’t want to have to listen to the bleeding Saviour moaning in the night, thanks.”

Potter looked affronted, “I don’t moan.”

Blaise looked like the cat that got the cream, “Yes, he’s more of a screamer.”

Theo blanched again, and clapped his hands over his ears, “Oh for Merlin’s sake, I don’t want to know.”

Draco found the urge to point out something obvious, “Do you really think he should be here?”

“Yeah, McGonagall won’t mind,” Blaise said as he intertwined his fingers with Potter’s, “House unity and all that.” He smirked again and that was that. Potter was to stay.

Draco groaned and wanted desperately, more than anything, to bang his head aggressively on his bedpost.

It was some time in the early morning at some ungodly hour when he felt something, or rather someone breaching the wards he’d carefully placed around the bed. The green canopy fluttered, to reveal a very sleepy looking Potter. He stumbled towards the bed, clambering on ungracefully and sliding an arm around Draco’s unmoving figure, “Sorry, I just had to use the bathroom.”

Draco almost choked on his air, did Potter climb into the wrong bed, thinking he was Blaise? He thought for a moment or two, plotting as he felt Potter snuggling under the green
silken sheets with him, feeling Potter running his fingers carefully up and down Draco’s arm, causing goosebumps to break out in their wake.

Potter was a very distracting person.

Draco shivered as Potter placed an open-mouthed kiss to the hollow at Draco’s throat, tongue flicking out lightly against Draco’s skin. He let out a low sound and immediately Potter looked up, recognition in his green eyes as they widened in horror.

“Oh, fuck.”

Draco’s thoughts were going in a similar direction.

“Dra- M-Malfoy,” Potter stuttered like an idiot, “This… I didn’t… fuck.”

It was then that a dastardly plan came to Draco’s mind. What if he gave Potter an easy way out?

(Okay, it was also mostly for his benefit, but still.)

“This…” Draco pretended to be in a sleepy state, struggling for words like Potter had, “I… I’m dreaming, right? This is a dream?”

Potter seemed to sag in relief, at the thought that Draco thought he was still sleeping.

“Yes, Draco,” Draco shivered at the use of his given name, “this is a dream.”

Draco smirked knowingly, “Yes, because the real Potter wouldn’t ever call me Draco.”

Draco thought he imagined it, but Potter seemed to be blushing again.

“Well, Draco,” another shiver, “this has been lovely, but I do really have to-”

“Oh, no dream-Potter.” Draco gripped the hem of Potter’s shirt as he attempted to leave, “This is my dream and I want to dream about Potter giving me hea-”

“Okay, okay, okay.” Potter interrupted, his cheeks flaming now, “You really don’t need to finish that thought.”

Draco yanked Potter back to his side and with a smug grin, felt Potter relaxing into him.

Potter cast a wandless silencing charm on Draco’s bed and magicked the curtains shut. Draco nodded in approval, “Impressive. Wandless magic. If only real-life-Potter was as smart as dream-Potter.” He sighed.

Potter seemed to squawk indignantly, but Draco simply pulled him closer to his side, running a hand down Potter’s spine, causing him to arc further towards Draco. “D-Draco…”

Draco smirked, “Yes, Potty?”

Potter was rendered speechless and Draco suddenly flipped the two of them over, his weight pinning a very startled Potter to the bed. Potter’s eyes were wide and ever so green, “Your eyes…” Draco trailed off, brushing his fingers across Potter’s cheek. A pang went through Draco’s chest as he committed the sight to memory: a breathless Potter on his bed - this was everything his fifteen year old self would have wanted - with his messy, stupid hair spread across Draco’s green satiny pillows, mouth hanging open ever so slightly, and eyes greener than the bedsheets themselves.

Unable to help himself, he pressed his lips to Potter’s collarbone, jutting out so temptingly from his grey pajama shirt. He sucked on the flesh lightly, revelling in the completely Potter-ish taste; something musky, a bit like rain, with sweeter undertones.

It was delicious.

It was intoxicating.

Potter writhed under him and Draco hummed happily into Potter’s skin, causing him to throw his head back even further as if offering his throat to Draco.

Draco would happily take it. He pressed light kisses up Potter’s throat, pausing to lick his bobbing Adam’s apple, and Potter let out a strangled sound. That sounded promising.

Draco continued his ministrations up Potter’s face, stopping at the jagged scar that had haunted him for eight years. Stupid Potter and his stupid scar.

He would make that scar his if he had to. After all, that was all that made Potter special, right? Draco had to be better than him, that was all. He pressed his lips gently to the pinkened skin that would never heal.

He kissed it tenderly again, and without another thought, he indulged himself in his earlier fantasy, sticking out his tongue and swiping it against the lightning shape of the scar. He repeated its fiery trail and Potter froze under him.

He pressed his lips to the scar again, and murmured a single word against Potter’s infamous scar, “Mine.”

In hindsight, Draco probably realised that Potter with his stupid Gryffindor nobility wouldn’t let Draco get away with doing too much to him, i.e. defiling the Chosen One completely.

After all, he was dating Blaise Bloody Tosser Zabini, and Potter was the epitome of a noble, honest and good Gryffindor. He would never cheat on the wanker.

Which is why when he finally pressed his lips against Potter’s, he wasn’t well accepted. Potter did not reciprocate in any way and struggled against Draco, trying to push him off. “Mmmf! Get… off!”

Draco instead nibbled lightly at Potter’s full lower lip and swiped his tongue over it again. “Argh!” Potter put his hands on Draco’s shoulders and pushed.

Draco didn’t budge, instead choosing to humour Potter further, “Normally when I dream about you, you’re more compliant.”

Potter looked torn between outrage and shock, “You dream about me?”

Draco shook his head as if pitying the delusional Potter below him, “They always ask that as well.”

“Get off me, Malfoy, you great oaf!”

“Mmm…” Draco hummed and pressed his lips to the corner of Potter’s mouth, relishing in the way he struggled and squirmed, trying to get away.

“This isn’t a dream, you blundering idiot! Get off!”

“They’ve never said that before.”

“Malfoy, I have a boyfriend! And I don’t know if I need to remind you, but he’s your best mate.”

“Not best.” Draco murmured, “He stole my wet dream.”

Potter choked under him and stopped struggling long enough for Draco to press his lips against Potter’s again in a searing kiss. Potter’s lips seemed to move against his for a short delicious second and it was one of the most euphoric feelings Draco had ever experienced, which was probably why Draco didn’t expect Potter’s next move: Potter biting down hard on Draco’s lip.

Draco let out a short yowl and immediately pushed himself up from the violent Potter beneath him. “What the bloody hell was that for?”

Potter smirked in a very un-Potter-ish manner and sat up, kicking Draco away from him, “I’m leaving.”

“You fight like a bloody Slytherin.” Draco muttered darkly, nestling his bleeding lip.

Potter smirked again, “Ah yes, the Sorting Hat sure did think the same.”

With those parting words, Potter undid his charms - wandlessly and wordlessly this time, Draco noted with a mute awe - and quickly slipped out of Draco’s bed as if Draco would attack him again at any given moment.

Chapter Text

Draco woke up in a bad mood. He had had a restless sleep and all he could think about was bloody Potter. The way he had looked so well ravished after Draco was done with him. On top of that, Draco had some, ahem, problems downstairs that he was not looking forward to taking care of.

Blaise had woken up in a happy Potter-induced haze and Greg had surprisingly gotten up before all of them and was nowhere to be found. Theo on the other hand, had taken Blaise’s words to heart and had slept in the freezing common room.

“I swear the giant squid was making faces at me!” Theo bemoaned as the three made their way to breakfast.

“Should’ve stayed in the dorm then.”

“But Pansy ,” Theo whined, before dropping his voice to a theatrical whisper, “ Blaise was shagging Potter there! ”

Draco knew better than anyone that Blaise had not been doing that, but it wouldn’t do to mention that now, would it?

It might just give him away.

He felt his cheeks heating slightly as he relived the memories of what had transpired last night.

“Hey, Draco are you okay?” Pansy prodded him and he quickly shook his head to clear it of unwanted thoughts.

“I’m fine.”

She smirked, “Too busy thinking about Potter?”

“I would do nothing of the sort!” Draco protested indignantly.

Pansy simply sent him a knowing smirk and turned away to wrap herself around Theo who appeared quite flustered by the sudden show of attention.

“I am not obsessed with Potter!”

Blaise raised an eyebrow at his words, “Well, I should hope not. He is, after all, my boyfriend.”

Draco’s fists clenched and he scowled, “You have shite taste.”

“Keep that up and you’ll get frown lines, Draco darling.”

“Oh Merlin, I think I can feel my breakfast coming back up.” Blaise and Potter sprang away from each other and they at least had the decency to look somewhat sheepish at being caught.

“I’m going to throw up just a little in my mouth.” Draco continued, averting his eyes.

“Bugger off, Malfoy.”

“Draco, shut up.”

Draco sniffed haughtily, “Stop doing unholy things where anyone could see you. Such as me.  I am an innocent, I do not deserve this, this early in the morning.”

Potter was frowning, but Blaise looked vaguely amused. He raised a dark eyebrow, “Are you disturbed by me kissing my boyfriend?” He instantly yanked Potter closed and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Like this?”

Something bubbled in Draco’s chest and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. “Eurgh.”

“Oh, so like this then?”

Blaise kissed Potter again and this time, Draco could see tongues. Tongues! “Stop it, right now! This is public indecency! Blaise, I demand you remove yourself from that cretin!”

Blaise snickered, and Potter rolled his eyes, exchanging one last chaste kiss with Blaise and then stepping away from him, gliding towards Draco with a smoothness that Draco greatly envied. “You didn’t mind my cretin self when you forced yourself upon me last night.” His voice was low-enough to send shivers down Draco’s spine and low enough so that Blaise couldn’t hear him.

With a smirk, Potter left Draco standing there looking shell-shocked.

Blast it all! He had let Potter get the last word, and no , he had not forced himself upon Potter last night! If anything, Potter had forced himself onto Draco - poor, unsuspecting Draco. Draco truly was the victim here.

Besides, Potter was a thief. Gliding was Draco’s thing - okay, so maybe he’d stolen it from Snape - and so was smirking. (And perhaps he’d stolen a small portion of Draco’s heart, but Draco was not readily admitting to that.)

Gryffindorks didn’t smirk!

Draco was still scowling at the floor when he felt Blaise sidling up beside him. “Draco Lucius Malfoy.” He sounded far too smug for Draco’s liking.

He ignored him.

“My, my, my. Who would’ve thought? Draco is jealous of me. Little old me.”

“You sit on a throne of lies.” Draco told Blaise firmly.

“Better yet,” Blaise continued as if Draco hadn’t spoken, “he has a thing for Harry Potter!”

Draco felt a blush rising from his toes, all the way to the tips of his ears. “I do not!” He replied vehemently.

He felt a prodding in his cheek, “Draco, are you blushing ?” Blaise was practically crowing at this point.

“No!” Draco snapped, swatting Blaise’s hand away and righting himself, lifting his head high. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have classes to attend.”

Blaise let him go without a fight, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Draco.” He smirked, “Though, I do suspect that ideally, that would be Harry.”

“Argh!” For the second day in a row, Draco found him storming down the halls of Hogwarts in an extremely un-Malfoy-ish manner.

“Did you hear?” A Hufflepuff let out a little giggle as she bent over a book, whispering to her friend, “Draco Malfoy has a thing for Harry Potter .”

“I don’t blame him,” Her friend giggled back, “He has that whole smouldering, unobtainable hero thing going for him.” More giggles. Draco wanted to throw something. Or throw up —either would do.

Draco groaned, the day had gotten worse after the… encounter with Blaise and Potter earlier. He resisted the urge to turn around, deny the rumour and hex the giggling crowd of Fourth Year Hufflepuffs into oblivion. 

Deciding that the library wasn’t a good place to be right now, he quickly gathered his books and left in a completely dignified manner. He glided. Yes, he glided out of the library with grace and ease.

Only to crash straight into Pansy, who had her arms crossed and a flat expression on her face. “Draco Lucius Malfoy.”

Draco gulped. “Uh, yes, hi Pansy?”

She was not impressed and let out a small growl before reaching up and yanking Draco by the ear down the deserted hallways, “Ow, Pansy, you great wench let go of me!” His back was bent at an awkward angle, her nails were digging into him and he was being dragged mercilessly around by someone who was at least two heads shorter than him!

She carried on as if she hadn’t heard him, or if she had, she’d simply ignored him - Draco was inclined to believe the latter - and instead, picked up her pace as they headed into the colder areas of the castle.

Draco stopped struggling and allowed himself to be dragged, with a sour expression on his face.

Pansy muttered the password to the common room and continued on as if she wasn’t dragging an uncooperative Draco Malfoy behind her. Luckily for Draco, there was no one in the common room at this time and no one to witness his humiliation.

Pansy threw him down onto the couch and crossed her arms again, raising an eyebrow at Draco, waiting for him to speak.

“Ow, Salazar, I hate you.” Draco nursed his burning ear and sent a baleful glare at the dark-haired girl.

“Speak, or I’ll be threatening your little one next.”

Draco immediately cupped his hands over his crotch as if to protect it from Pansy’s wrath, before starting with indignation, “Hey, I’ll have you know I am anything but little!”

Pansy was unamused, “Tell me, Draco, what are these rumours I’m hearing about you and Potter?”

“Lies.” He replied petulantly. 

“Well, as of the moment your face is the exact colour of Weasley hair, so I think not .”

Draco cursed his perfectly pale complexion, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Pansy rolled her eyes before tutting with sympathy, “You would think you’d tell me before you told Blaise. I mean Blaise is Potter’s boyfriend . And more importantly, he told Theo. And you know how Theo is.”

Theodore Nott was the biggest fucking gossip Draco had ever had the misfortune of encountering in his entire life.

Pansy sighed and not irritably, “Draco honey, look I’m not going to judge you for having a crush on Potter, I mean it’s not ideal and you have been obsessed with him since-”

Draco gasped in outrage, “I do not have a crush on Potter!”

Pansy nodded, “Look I get the whole denial thing, but Draco, seriously. I can even help you win him over.”

“Wait, you can do that?” Draco coughed, “I mean, I have no interest in that whatsoever.”

“Yes Draco, honey, we are going to get Potter to fall head over heels for you!”

“Ew Pansy, disgusting! ”

She only giggled maniacally in reply. “He’s not going to know what hit him!”

“I’d much prefer if I hit him.”

“Yes, yes, Draco, patience. You’ll be hitting on him in no time!”

“That’s not what I meant, Pansy stop , come back!

“So what’s this I hear about you planning to steal my boyfriend?”

Draco jumped almost guiltily, before composing himself and plastering a cool expression on his face, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. And keep your Potter to yourself, thanks.”

Blaise grinned wolfishly and slid in next to Draco, “I don’t mind sharing, you know.”

Draco shuddered, “Eurgh, no thanks.”

“He does this amazing thing with his tongue and-”

“Stop !” Draco covered his burning face with his hands, “Are you trying to make me puke a record amount of times within two days?”

“Maybe.” Blaise chuckled and slapped Draco on the back none-too-gently, “Good luck with your Harry endeavours.”

Draco groaned, “As his boyfriend, you really shouldn’t be encouraging Pansy.”

“Sacrifices must be made for true love, my friend.”

“I don’t love Potter, for Merlin’s sake!”

Blaise frowned pitifully, “Acceptance is the first step to recovery, Draco.”

Draco groaned again and buried his head in his hands, “ Stop it. I don’t fancy Potter, of all people.”

“Oh, and here I was thinking that everyone did.”

Draco jumped again - Salazar would people please stop sneaking up on him! - and then scowled, “Potter! What are you doing here?”

Potter raised an eyebrow, “Witnessing my boyfriend trying to give me away, apparently."

Blaise laughed in a carefree manner, “I’m just trying to help Draco come to terms with his obsession with you.”

Draco stood, “I am not obsessed with you."

Two days later, Blaise and Potter broke up. “On mutual terms.” Blaise had announced. Potter had frowned and then Blaise had given him a very long, very inappropriate goodbye snog in front of the entire Great Hall. 

Draco was appalled by their behaviour.

(He was also still in denial, but he denied being in denial too.)

The problem with Potter no longer being one half of a disgustingly sappy couple, was that the rest of the school was busy trying to woo him and gain his affections now that he was single.

It meant that during classes, there would be loud and infuriating singing telegrams that turned Boy Wonder bright red as they described his potential prowess in bed in great detail. There would be flying boxes of chocolate that everyone knew were laced with love potions, and were a great danger to anyone near Potter as those boxes could potentially take off heads.

All in all, Potter’s newfound single-ness proved to be a great hindrance in classes, and considering Draco shared quite a few classes with Potter, it was rather infuriating.

Something needed to be done about it, and if no one else was going to do it, Draco would do it.

He saw the solution quite clearly; the reason for these horrible distractions were because Potter was single. If Potter wasn’t single, then he could continue to study his classes in peace and not have to come back for a Ninth Year.

He would become Harry Potter’s new boyfriend.

(For the sake of his education of course.)

When he told Pansy his idea, she nodded sagely, “I fear, Draco, that that is the only way we will have peace in class.” 

“Yes!” Draco agreed, “That is exactly right! Now, if only someone else had thought of this before me. Of course, not everyone can be as clever as I, but it really was quite simple."

“Indeed.” Pansy agreed gravely, before rolling her eyes. Draco ignored her.

“Draco, you do realise that is exactly what half the school has been trying to do, right? Become his new special someone?”

Draco hushed her, “Irrelevant. I am far more charming than them and he won’t be able to resist me. Then I will be able to have my classes back to normal!"

Pansy had squeezed him into a pair of ridiculously tight Muggle jeans. “They make your arse look good,” she had insisted.

Draco was doubtful, but wore them anyway. Today was the day he was going to ask stupid Potter out. He had spent the past week watching and observing Potter, smirking, winking, smiling and slipping innuendos at him whenever the opportunity presented itself. The opportunity presented itself quite a lot and generally resulted in Potter blushing a curious shade of red.

His source - Blaise, with a smug, shit-eating grin - had told Draco that Potter tended to spend Saturday afternoons in the gardens alone. Draco had headed out to the gardens, and Blaise had not been wrong. 

Potter sat on a bench with what appeared to be a journal laid out on his lap, and Gryffindor red and gold scarf wrapped around his neck. Potter had a nice neck, Draco decided as his face heated with a faint blush at the memory of pressing chaste kisses along it. 

He stuffed his hands awkwardly into the pockets of his jeans as he neared Potter. Draco had a quick panic as he pondered what to say.

Oh, hey Potter, fancy seeing you here? Nope.

Potter. Too casual.

I’d Slytherin to your Chamber of Secrets if you know what I mean? Draco shook his head, he would probably get hexed for that.

Draco was too busy pondering that he didn’t notice Potter glancing up and shrinking the object in his lap, and tucking it into his pocket. “Malfoy.” 

Draco started, “Oh h-hey, Potter.”

Potter smiled awkwardly at him and then Draco took a deep breath, “Doyouwanttogooutwithme?”

Potter frowned, “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

Draco resisted the urge to scowl at the deaf Boy Hero in front of him, “Will you, Potter, go out with me? On a date?”

Potter blinked those green eyes owlishly at him. “Malfoy, did you accidentally eat one of the chocolates in the floating boxes earlier?”

“No, I-”

“Damnit,” Harry ran a hand through his hair and Draco did not find it attractive. At all . “I knew Romilda laced those chocolates with something strong.”

Draco stepped forwards and grabbed Potter’s hand. “No, I didn’t eat any of your love potions, I swear. I-I just was wondering if you’d like to go flying?”

A slow smirk spread over Potter’s face, “What, Malfoy, finally realising that you are obsessed with me?”

Draco felt his face heating up and looked down, “Look, if you don’t want to come, you just could’ve said so.” 

Potter lurched up from his seat, “No, that’s not what I meant! I mean, yeah okay, I’d love to go flying with you.” Then he smiled, one of his famous Saviour smiles. The type that made everyone weak at the knees.

(Draco was no exception.)

After retrieving their brooms from the broomshed and traipsing in comfortable silence up to the quidditch pitch, Potter had let loose the snitch and raised an eyebrow challengingly at Draco, “Think I can still beat you?”

Draco snorted, “You wish.”

Potter smiled again and then they were off. The snitch seemingly disappeared and Draco and Potter flew side by side, eyes waiting for the tiniest hint of movement. 

A flash of gold appeared by Potter’s ear and Draco lurched forwards, only as it flitted quickly away. He and Potter both raced after it, the cool Autumn air pushing his hair back and nipping at his skin. He stretched forwards and noted Potter doing the same as the snitch danced just out of reach, and shot upwards away from sight again.

Potter let out a carefree laugh and grinned sideways at Draco - no, that was not his heart flipping, he was simply exhilarated from the flying, “I haven’t flown in ages, it’s amazing to be back on a broom again.”

Draco returned his grin tentatively and then the snitch made itself known again, buzzing between them. The two of them flew after it again, in sharp cutting movements. Draco strained forwards. If he just reached a little further… and then he was falling. 

Panic hadn’t had time to properly set in before he felt the impact of something solid.

Oh Merlin, was he dead already. 

He felt his feet touch solid ground and then realised he was wrapped up around Potter, clinging on for dear life. “Malfoy, are you okay?” Potter had saved him from falling to his immediate death, and had flown like a Saviour to catch Draco falling out of the sky. 

Draco’s heart beat loudly and then nodded almost woodenly, before lifting his hand and unfurled his fingers, releasing the fluttering snitch from his palm.

Potter’s eyes widened, “You stupid wanker! I was really worried about you for a moment.”

Draco smirked faintly, “Just a moment?” 

Potter rolled his eyes, “Let’s head back in.”

“Dray, darling, I heard you fell earlier!” Astoria - the other Greengrass - hurried up to him and immediately started pressing kisses across his face. Draco attempted to subtly push her away - he failed.

Pansy - bless her - chose this moment to show up and strategically edge her way between Draco and Astoria. Astoria sent her a sour look and fluttered her lashes one last time at Draco before moving away. “So, how was it?”

Draco groaned and dropped his head, “I almost died, same old, same old.”

“That bad, huh?”

“I cannot woo if I am deceased Pansy! We need to move onto stage two of the plan!”

Pansy humoured him, “And what exactly would stage two involve?” 

Draco paused, “... I hadn’t quite thought that far yet.”

Pansy patted his back, “We’ll win him over for the sake of your education Draco.”

Suddenly, Draco was hit with a fleeting moment of genius. “I’ll woo him through the fine art of poetry!”

“Oh Merlin help us all.” Draco pretended not to hear her and turned his heel, smirking smugly at his cleverness and successful robe swish.

Through the following week, Draco carefully charmed single rhymes into origami figures that would find Potter’s between classes — clever and romantic things like, “ I could be yours, with you my heart soars, ” and “ With eyes so green, no wonder I’m so keen. ”

Potter would be flocking to him in no time, surely.

Draco observed Potter walking down the corridor alone after potions on a fine Wednesday afternoon and knew it was the day his plans bore fruit. “Pansy,” he hissed, “he’s going to acknowledge I am irresistible right now and this mess will be over. Act casual.” 

Pansy casually yanked at a loose strand of hair and acted as nonchalantly as Draco requested. Potter was passing by right now and he would definitely do something—like flutter those dark eyelashes coyly at him whilst murmuring in that Saviour voice , “Malfoy,” or even better, “ Draco .”

Draco smirked at the easily predictably hypothetical events playing out in his mind and then shook himself out of it, pretending to be occupied with his books as Potter brushed by him.

“I might have eyes like grass, but you’ve got a perfect arse .” Draco squawked indignantly and Potter sauntered off, whistling as if that horrible line had not just sprung from his lips. (His ridiculously kissable lips, but Draco digressed.)

Pansy cackled gleefully, “Oh Merlin, the fine art of poetry definitely worked on him.”

Draco buried his blonde head shamefully in his hands, “Stop. Abort. It’s time for stage three.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“This will work, or so help me!”

Two days later and Draco had yet to conceive a genius plan. It was time to get serious.

However, as he sat in the library with his quill lying dejectedly beside a piece of parchment that was blank save for the very large HOW TO SEDUCE A POTTER scrawled in all-caps on the top of the page, he was beginning to taste what felt like defeat. 

He dropped his head to the piece of parchment, “Why in the name of Salazar did I think this would be a good idea?” 

A hand rested on his shoulder and he jolted, “Blaise.” Draco tried to look innocent and simultaneously cover the parchment in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was studying until I couldn’t because someone was bemoaning their failing lovelife. Or lack of lovelife.”

Draco let out an affronted sound, “I’ll have you know I am very desirable-” 

Blaise snorted, “Sure. That’s why you’ve got EDUCE POTTE stamped on your forehead.” 

Immediately, Draco clapped a hand over his forehead, of course this would be his luck , and groaned in frustration. “Hey, don’t give up now.” Blaise frowned gently.

“What’s it to you if I do?”

“Come on, this is our education at stake here! Besides, have you tried being honest and y’know , telling him that you like him? ”

“Why would I do that?” Draco wailed, earning a particularly nasty glare from Madam Pince.

“Well, at least you didn’t deny it this time—perhaps we’re getting somewhere afterall!”

Draco groaned in defeat, “So what if I might want to kiss his stupid Saviour face?”

Blaise smirked, “Then tell him. Harry does love honesty.”

“That doesn’t mean he’ll love me!”

“Look, this is secret intel only, but he was only dating me to make a certain someone jealous.” Blaise waggled his eyebrows and Draco groaned, feeling a heavy weight settle in his chest. 

“Why would you tell me that! That means he already likes someone else! Blaise I’m doomed! How will he agree to date me if he’s already infatuated with someone else?” Draco wrinkled his nose, “Not to mention desperate to the point where he’s willing to date you to make someone else jealous." 

Blaise promptly facepalmed, “Draco, we all love you, but you’re so dense sometimes.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Well, for starters. It means his plan to make his object of affection jealous worked.” Draco inhaled sharply. (If he felt sudden hope, he certainly didn’t express it.)

Draco could do this. He could definitely do this. He was Draco Malfoy —irresistible! He took a deep breath and smoothed down his robes. There was no other way, he would have to resort to Blaise’s admittedly weak idea—but only because he was desperate at this point! The entire of Eighth Year’s education was at risk if this Potter mess wasn’t put to an end soon.

Draco spotted Potter walking alone again and spotted an opportunity.

“Potter!”

Potter’s head whipped up in the direction of Draco, and startled. “Uh, yeah? If it’s the poem thing, I’m not mad, I swear.”

Draco felt his ears burn with the memory of consequence . “Well, I mean that’s not what I wanted to talk about at all, but-”

Potter seemed to catch on in a way, “This isn’t about those rumours right? About you fancying me?” He waggled his eyebrows and no it was not endearing. 

“Why, you–” Draco spluttered briefly, “No, of course not! Don’t be daft! I would never–! Liking you–! Salazar!”

Potter pinned him with a flat stare and Draco felt himself deflate, “Okay, but it’s not like that, I swear! It’s all about our education! With all those poor misinformed witches and wizards chasing after you, none of us have the chance to get the education we all–” 

He was cut off very suddenly when Potter surged towards him and Draco thought he was going to get slugged, only to be caught utterly by surprise when Potter very tenderly pressed those ridiculously distracting lips against his for a brief second of complete and utter bliss.

Er. Complete and utter necessity for this plan to work , Draco amended in his mind.

“You’re such an idiot, Malfoy.” Potter’s eyes seemed to glow an even more vibrant shade of emerald as he watched Draco in amusement. His gaze softened, “But an idiot willing to sacrifice himself for the education of others.” 

Draco huffed, “Yes, because education is a privilege. How noble of you, Potter, to realise.”

Potter laughed fondly, “Yeah.” The two then walked off to their next class together, because finally, Draco could sit through a class without interruptions. And, if anyone noticed their hands intertwined, Draco would swear left, right and centre that it was purely for educational purposes only.