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"It's all his fault. Potter!" The last word was hissed under his breath in a fit of annoyance and resentment. Even in this mood, he knew that to utter something along these lines within Slughorn's vicinity was a risky thing to do these days.
Blaise - who appeared to have no such limitations - sighed loudly, while packing his things, but Draco ignored the - not so subtle - hint to take his complaints elsewhere.
"His potion wasn't even close to pale pink. Not even close." He eyed the remains of his own draught, perfectly coloured with the steam rising in a corkscrew motion like the book suggested a flawless potion should look like.
"You're just offended that Slughorn doesn't invite you to his meetings," Blaise said, shouldering his bag.
"But if he weren't so occupied fawning of the bloody war hero..." Draco glared at said chosen one, from his spot in the last row. He, with his annoyingly wild hair, was busy laughing at something Weasley had said, who - if the papers were right - would probably soon turn uncle to some red-headed brats with bottle-green eyes.
"Get over it Draco," Blaise commented, shooting him a glace that told him to hurry the fuck up. "Not long ago you were singing his praises yourself - Potter here, Potter there."
Draco huffed as he was stuffing his silver cutting knife into its sheath and then his bag. If he'd harboured certain misconceptions previous to starting 8th year, assuming that Potter might have turned into a different person after ridding the world of the Dark Lord and speaking at his trials, then that wasn't his fault.
It wasn't as if he'd expected Potter to return his wand, no - not at all - but if Potter was trying to be "good" then he might as well have done this one decent thing.
But Potter was still the same old git, hanging around that Weasley chit and flanked by Granger and the male Weasley as if he needed bodyguards.
The time it took after the beginning of the 8th year to get over being humble and thankful to the one and only vanquisher of you-know-who was over quicker than one could cast a scourgify. Because at the end that was the spell that had caused Draco to throw his father's wand against the wall in frustration because he just couldn't work the damn thing.
Thus even if at one point his hopes and expectations had been placed upon Potter - the only saving grace in the hell-hole that had been his life, while the Dark Lord had still been alive - the Gryffindor had once more returned to be the bane of Draco's existence.
Later during dinner, Blaise had forgone his usual seat next to Draco for Merlin-knows-what reason and thus it was Theo who bore the brunt of Draco's mood. "I mean look at him - Potter - how he's basically basking in Weasley sitting on his lap!"
Theo hummed, not even looking up from his crossword puzzle. "Third ingredient to the Essence of Insanity?"
"Frog brain," Draco shot back automatically, not even moving his head as he stared at Potter over the house tables. "That's basic 6th-year curriculum - Theo - are you even listening to me?"
"Mhm, Potter..." Theo replied over the scratching of his quill. He was rather quiet in comparison to Blaise, but while not as engaging, he, unlike the former usually kept from giving unbidden advice. It made Draco appreciate their friendship. It had started out as a loose alliance at the beginning of the year, which had been rooted in their shared familial circumstances and a certain understanding of each other because of it. Or to put it bluntly, they had bonded over the fact that both of their fathers were currently incarcerated in Azkaban for supporting a madman. Only that Nott hadn't had a bloody saviour speaking up on his father's trial which in a few years would turn his imprisonment to mere house arrest. A topic Draco wisely didn't mention. But talking about said saviour himself was safe enough.
"I mean Potter! He's basically announcing his relationship status to the world. Who even wants to see that?"
"You, apparently," Blaise interjected, leaning over to them, seemingly no longer interested in staying away from the conversation.
Knowing better than to make a fool out of himself by spluttering, Draco turned his head to glare at Blaise. "Well, he's basically shoving it into my face. How am I supposed to not notice?"
"Sure," Blaise said and turned back to his food.
Meanwhile, Theo had apparently broken through his crossword-puzzle-induced stupor and had followed Draco's previous glance. "To me, he looks rather uncomfortable, actually."
Draco's head snapped around so fast he thought he might've heard something pop. And indeed. While before Potter had been laughing an unguarded laugh - Draco could imagine that stupid dimple appearing on the left side of his mouth - now that the Weasley chit had placed herself in his lap, he seemed to squirm in his place. After a few seconds of conversation, Weasley nodded and slid down next to him. Potter meanwhile was fiddling with his glasses in a way that Draco had often observed to be related to him wanting to prevent eye contact.
"Ha! Can you imagine being so awkward?" Draco voiced with a smirk painted on his face.
"Yeah, almost as bad as..." Blaise muttered in a sarcastic voice, but Draco didn't hear the rest. Potter had turned his head and found his gaze. When they locked eyes over the tables, Draco broadened his smirk to a grin that told Potter exactly that he'd observed this whole shitshow of an interaction.
Potter flushed enraged when he turned away to stab a piece of meat on his plate and Draco rode on that high until he was laying in his bed in the Slytherin dorms.
He grinned once more as he stared at the canopy of his four-poster bed, picturing the angrily flushed face of Potter before his imaginary eye. How the red would slowly stain his cheeks and how his eyes would develop this certain glint as if a fire was fueling his gaze. An angry expression that had even stood up to the Dark Lord at one point.
Completely unrelated, Draco found himself suddenly getting hard.
At least, he thought after having had a very satisfying wank, this he couldn't fault Potter for.
It wasn't long before he fell asleep.
Unfortunately, not everything stayed this blissful and two days later, Draco stormed angrily into the Slytherin common room.
He hissed at an idle second year blocking his way, who jumped aside with a frightened look - at least here his reputation as a former Death Eater brought an advantage - and dropped down on the dark couch next to Theo who was reading some kind of magazine on magical insects.
"Potter!" he spat fuming and Blaise looked up from where he was currently writing a letter to Parkinson, who wisely was taking her NEWTs in Beauxbatons. Apparently, one could come back from being forced to become a Death Eater, but not openly encouraging people to deliver Potter to the Dark Lord.
"What did he do now?" the dark-skinned boy asked, almost resignedly. Draco agitatedly ran a hand through his hair, which earned him a look from Blaise, but he was too fed up to care.
"You know how I wanted to talk to Slughhorn about that letter of recommendation?"
"Yeah, and?"
"Well, as it turned out, he was already busy chatting with bloody Potter-"
"Tsk, tsk, language," Theo jokingly remarked, watching them over the edge of his magazine.
"Oh, fuck off, Theo," Draco snapped. Disregarding all manners ever ingrained to him, he put his elbows on his knees, running both hands through his hair this time before he straightened up again. "I need this letter! Who would take a bloody Death Eater to apprentice under them-"
"Calm down, Draco," Blaise cut him off and Draco huffed at his best friend. "What did Slughorn say?"
"Told me to come by at a later time as he had urgent matters to discuss with bloody, fucking Potter!"
"Well, then not everything is lost. Just go and seek him out tomorrow then," Blaise lightly suggested.
"Yeah right," Draco shot back, although somewhat calmer, "He's probably too busy mooning over Potter to even take me seriously."
"You haven't even talked to him yet," Theo interjected.
Draco snorted disparagingly.
Despite this argument, he couldn't help but feel like Potter was the one to blame after all. "Potter," he muttered under his breath, as he turned to his bag to start with a draft of his transfigurations essay.
Thus he missed the look, Theo and Blaise exchanged over his head.
The following day at breakfast, Draco was searching for the familiar mop of wild hair on the usual spot at the Gryffindor house table in an almost habitual manner, when -
"Potter," Blaise muttered, a strewn-over salt shaker in front of him.
"Where?" Draco asked, searching in vain for the raven-haired saviour. Theo was smiling.
"Well," Blaise began, "As you're so fond of blaming all your problems on Potter, I thought I'd give it a try as well."
Draco stared at him incredulously.
At that, Blaise simply grinned a handsome grin, white teeth sparkling brightly.
Draco didn't think could ever resent him more.
"Potter," Theo muttered when he dropped his quill and it went rolling under the couch in the Slytherin common room.
Draco took everything back.
"Potter!" Blaise exclaimed over accidentally spilling pumpkin juice over his favourite shirt during breakfast.
He hated Blaise.
"Potter," a daring Slytherin fifth year cursed knowingly over her potions essay, while Draco walked past.
He hated Blaise with a passion.
"Potter," Theo absentmindedly muttered during a potions class they shared with the Gryffindors.
"Blaise!" Draco yelled as he stormed through the door of the room housing the beds and belongings of the 8th-year Slytherin boys.
Said boy was currently the sole occupant of the dorm and was leaning against his headboard, reading. "What?" Blaise asked, innocently gazing over the top of his book as if he wasn't aware that he'd replaced Potter as Draco's new school nemesis.
His expression was perfectly blank. Slytherin blank.
"Don't you what me," Draco spat, carelessly dropping his bag to the ground next to his own bed and started pacing. "This stops now!"
"Whatever do you mean, Draco?" Blaise asked while he casually marked his page and closed his book.
Draco stopped where he stood, piercing the other Slytherin with a glare. "Half of Slytherin is taking Potter's name in vain!"
'Taking his name in vain' Blaise mouthed with a funny look, but Draco was already continuing his rant.
"Today I overheard a first-year - a first-year - muttering 'Potter' when she stumbled while walking to class!"
Blaise sat up fully. "It's not like you don't still do the same. You curse Potter at every waking moment."
"That's clearly exaggerated. Besides, that is different."
"Why would it be any different?"
Draco stared at him disbelievingly. "Well, first of all, they didn't have to deal with bloody Potter deciding to be the bane of their existence - and that for years!" he argued when he found his voice again.
Blaise possessed the audacity to laugh at that. "Well, they also didn't decide to obsess over him for the duration of those years," he pointed out.
"I'm not obsessed!" Draco exclaimed. That earned him a perfectly arched brow from Blaise. "If anything, then he's obsessed," the blond continued defensively. "He was the one who was basically stalking me during our sixth year!"
"Well, to be fair, you were trying to kill the headmaster at that time."
Draco stared at Blaise for a long moment. At least he had the decency to appear somewhat guilty for bringing it up.
"Look," Blaise eventually began, "You can't deny that there has been somewhat of an obsession going on. The one time Theo asked you how Potter took his tea?" He trailed off and looked at Draco expectantly.
"That was a filthy, filthy move to pretend that this was part of a crossword puzzle," Draco began and started pacing again, "And it's not like it's a secret. He hasn't changed his habits in all the time he went to Hogwarts. Anyone with a half-what decent attention span could tell you how he takes his tea."
"How do I take my tea?" Blaise asked.
"You only drink coffee," Draco retorted, waving dismissively, "I've heard you argue about the glorification of tea in Britain at least a dozen times since I know you."
Blaise inclined his head. "Touché," he said with a small smile before fixating on Draco again, "But you can't tell me that you know how Weasley takes his tea or Granger for example."
"Why would I want to know how Weasley takes his tea?" Draco asked.
"You're avoiding the core of the question," Blaise countered. Draco huffed while the other boy continued. "I mean why are you so bothered by this anyway? It's not like you have a claim on Potter's name." Draco shot daggers at Blaise who gestured dismissively. "It's almost like you don't want anyone else to call Potter, Potter. Like Greengrass during her fourth year, remember? When she was going through that ridiculous phase when she had this huge crush on Pucey..."
Draco froze when his mind made a jump he hadn't ever even considered before.
Blaise stared at him, jaw-dropping. "No..." he whispered disbelievingly, but the corners of his mouth already tugged up into a grin.
Draco got a hold of himself. "Don't be ridiculous, Blaise," he shot back, turning to walk towards his own bed. Inwardly he was mortified. In an unwelcome fit of self-awareness, memories were suddenly set in a context, countless hours complaining and obsessing over Potter put in a new light.
Behind his back, Blaise started to laugh. "Dio Mio, you've got a crush on Potter!"
"Stop fucking laughing Blaise," Draco hissed, contemplating throwing his pillow at his horrible dorm-mate, before forgoing that decision in favour of dropping face-first into it. "This isn't funny," he voiced once he'd turned around, staring at his green canopy.
The memory of a few days ago, when he'd wanked after picturing the flushed face of Potter rose from the depths of his mind and heat shot into his cheeks.
"Oh, on the contrary," Blaise choked out. "I think it's hilarious!"
Draco threw his pillow.
Potter - he had a crush on bloody fucking Potter!
And the evidence of his obsession was circulating through the mouths of all of Slytherin.
Draco had to fight a blush rising to his cheeks when he heard the tell-tale "Potter" of someone cursing as he walked alongside the Slytherin house table and dropped into the empty spot next to Theo. He was already hovering over his habitual crossword puzzle, sipping on his tea when Draco sat down.
Theo took one look at him and a smirk appeared on his face. "Finally figured it out, haven't you?"
"So you knew all along?" Blaise interjected breathily, sliding onto a spot on the bench opposite them. Draco glared at him. Apparently getting up early hadn't been enough to escape Blaise's presence this morning.
Blaise looked over his shoulder without any shame, obviously scanning the Gryffindor table for the bloody saviour. Draco knew it was futile, as Potter wouldn't show up for at least another fifteen minutes if his habits were anything to go by. As soon as the thought had crossed his mind, he cursed himself for even knowing this.
Meanwhile, Theo had turned his smug face at Blaise. "I would've had to be blind not to."
"Ouch," Blaise said and laid a hand over his heart in a mocking gesture.
"It's not my fault if you didn't question the nature of Draco's obsession," Theo countered.
"Well, how could I've guessed that the biweekly rants on Potter's idiocy stemmed from a place of fondness?"
"Perhaps when those rants turned into daily complaints?"
"Would you guys, stop talking about me like I'm not even here?" Draco hissed, feeling another blush creeping up his collar. He tried his best not to slouch into himself like he wanted to if only because this would draw more attention.
Blaise and Theo exchanged a mirthful look. "Oh, look," Theo said, face focused on the entrance of the hall. "There he is, the subject of your affection."
Draco kicked him under the table but Theo didn't even bat an eye. Meanwhile, Blaise turned his head to stare. "And alone. I wonder what brought this on?"
And indeed. Draco wished that he simply could keep from looking, but inevitably his eyes turned to follow Potter, who walked towards his usual spot without his two bodyguards flanking him.
"He's only this early when he tries to avoid Weasley," Draco muttered. Two heads simultaneously turned to face him.
Draco didn't think he would ever recover from the embarrassment that was the discovery of his feelings for Potter.
"You've really got it bad, don't you?" Blaise eventually voiced a streak of pity tainting his voice. Draco didn't know whether to be offended or appreciative of that fact.
As it turned out learning about the true nature of his feelings regarding Potter, didn't exactly stop Draco from obsessing - because what else could it truly be called - over said savour of the wizarding world. It only made him more aware that he was doing it.
Yet over the duration of the following two days, he came no closer to solving the riddle of Potter's mysterious fallout with the male Weasley.
"What's he doing now?" Draco asked and craned his neck to stare at the tapestry through which he'd seen Granger and Potter disappear on his way to History of Magic.
"Perhaps they were going behind Weasley's back. If you sneak after them you might catch them snogging," Blaise said distractedly. Suddenly the boy found himself standing alone, holding onto the strap of Draco's bag the latter had pushed into his hands. "Merlin, Draco! That was a joke!"
But Draco had already desillusioned himself and cast a charm that would silence his movements - courtesy of aunt Bella - and went after them.
"- just needs time to get used to it," he heard Granger say once he'd followed them a bit further into the secret passage.
He could make out Potter's silhouette in the dim light as he was standing in front of Granger with his arms crossed. He was taller than her now by several inches and she had to put her head back to be able to really look at him.
Merlin, he hadn't realized how much Potter had grown over the last year.
"Yeah right," Potter shot back. Even talking with this dismissive of a tone, Potter's voice did things to Draco that had tingles shooting right through his stomach.
Always steady in her stance, Granger now shifted uncomfortably. "Look, you know how Ron is. He will get over it, once he's wrapped his head around it."
"I can still talk to Ginny like I can before. Why is it harder for him than for her?" Potter argued, voice growing louder.
"I don't want to make excuses for him," Granger began and Potter turned away from her with a disbelieving snort.
Now Draco could see the lines between his furrowed brows and the harsh press of his lips.
What it would be like to smooth over those wrinkles with his fingers? Reaching out and-
He cut the thought off before it could take another turn.
"But you yourself told me that you and Ginny got back together more out of a sense of obligation than actual feelings being involved. If you pretend to be a happy couple in front of the Weasleys you can't fault him for not noticing earlier. Ron just assumed-"
"What? That Ginny and I would marry and have little red-headed kids like any run-along reporter assumes as well?" Potter shot back.
Draco almost stumbled, sucking in a hissing breath at the revelation. Luckily both Granger and Potter were too caught up in their conversation to notice.
"Oh, Harry. You know that's not it. He just wanted to be able to call you a part of his family."
Potter huffed. "It's not like I abandoned him," he stated, "Besides, it was Ginny who brought up breaking it off in the first place."
"I know." Granger seemed like she wanted to reach out before deciding otherwise. Apparently even she treated Potter with kid gloves these days.
Bloody Potter...
Meanwhile, Granger continued. "And I'm glad that you both finally got a good sense knocked into you. You deserve to be happy after all this."
Potter seemed to deflate all of a sudden. He sighed. "And what am I supposed to do in your opinion?"
"Nothing," Granger replied swiftly, relief evident in her voice. "Just give him a chance when he comes to talk to you, alright?"
Draco took that as a sign to disappear.
Blaise was hanging around not far from the secret passage, readily returning Draco's bag to his hands.
"Why are you grinning?" Blaise asked and eyeing Draco with that certain spark in his eyes. "High from the sight of Potter's arse while creeping after them?"
"Better," Draco replied haughtily, "But just for this, I won't tell you."
Blaise's outraged expression was almost as good as the knowledge that Potter and Weasley had had a fallout about the lack of relationship with his - now - apparently ex-girlfriend Ginevra Weasley.
Almost.
The following two hours, Draco spent drowning out Binns lecture, while trying to keep himself from sneaking glances at Potter's profile. He was about as successful at that as he was in preventing himself from imagining various scenarios that involved him and Potter making out in an abandoned classroom.
If Blaise noticed his lingering looks, he knew better than to comment on it, if only because he wanted to hear what Draco had found out.
Crush or not, Draco couldn't disregard the fact that Potter still disliked him, however polite he may seem on the surface - his lack of a functioning wand still evidence of the contentious rivalry.
So being able to hold on to such juicy ammunition, even if he didn't intend to use it - outright provoking the vanquisher of you-know-who (twice) would be such a stupid political move that it probably equalled taking the Dark Mark in its foolishness - gave Draco a sense of control and superiority he desperately needed in face of his own unfortunate crush on the man himself.
This optimistically leaning mindset held on until he heard Finnigan utter a "Thanks, Potter" when the strap of his bag gave way, contents spilling all over the ground, thus reminding Draco that he was only so close to becoming the subject of mockery that would make Theo and Blaise' teasing seem like compliments, should the true nature of his obsession come to light.
"Are you sure," Blaise asked him, hardly disguising his staring over the house tables.
"Yes, I'm sure," Draco repeated.
"They don't seem like a couple that recently broke up."
Draco shrugged. "Why? Got your sights set on a new victim?" he asked, barely sparing the female Weasley a glance, instead, watching Potter who was currently talking to her.
"She doesn't look all that bad," Blaise replied, probably trying to sound dismissive.
"Just tell her that and she'll be sure to jump into your waiting arms," Theo commented dryly.
Draco, who since he'd learned about her and Potter's breakup, wasn't all that resentful of the female Weasley anymore came to the conclusion that he'd seen Blaise make worse mistakes in choosing his bedmates.
Out loud he said, "Don't expect me to cheer you on, should you start to decide to go through with your advances on a Gryffindor."
Blaise snorted. "Like you have room to talk..."
Draco tightened his hold around his goblet. "I for one have enough on my plate than to even consider mentioning this affliction aloud," he shot back. "And that's disregarding the fact that it's highly unrealistic that anything would even come from it." He wasn't ignorant of the fact that Potter had dated exactly twice and that those people had been female. Not to mention neither of them had had the same complicated history with Potter as Draco.
But whatever bitter thoughts he harboured kept being left unsaid, though Blaise and Theo knew him long enough to read between the lines. But if they were pitying him, it wasn't visible on either of their faces and for once, Draco was grateful for it.
When Draco found the time and courage to once more approach Slughhorn regarding his letter of recommendation to be able to have a somewhat decent shot at an apprenticeship under a potions master, half of Hogwarts was already blaming Potter for various mishaps and elevated corners they stumbled against.
"Sir," Draco began after everyone had left the potions classroom, while Slughorn turned to look up. He'd never been that favourable of Draco, but since he was branded as a former Death Eater, whatever potential there had been for fondness seemed to have fizzled out completely.
"Ah Mr Malfoy, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Slughorn said lightly, but his eyes had a suspicious glint to them.
Draco didn't react to it. "I am planning to pursue a mastery in potions, Sir, once I've taken my NEWTs."
Slughorn looked at him in new consideration and his brows rose an inch higher. "Potions, my boy? An ambitious choice in career. It takes quite a bit of skill to pursue a mastery, if I may say so myself."
Skill you know I have, you guileless bastard, Draco thought, thankful for the endless etiquette sessions his mother had forced him through as a child if only to keep his practised smile unwavering. "I don't doubt that sir," Draco said, knowing that any further attempt at buttering up would be futile. "As you might be aware, certain prohibitions might befall potential potion masters I could apprentice under once they recognize my name in any application I might submit."
"Yes, unfortunate circumstances, indeed," Slughorn sighed and nodded his double chin wobbling. Draco reluctantly gave him credit for not looking at his arm when he said it. Unfortunate circumstances, indeed. What a flowery way to describe that his father had hosted the Dark Lord for over a year at Malfoy Manor and was now spending his time in Azkaban for it, while his son would forever be marked.
"I was wondering," Draco began, "If you would be willing to write me a letter of recommendation..."
Slughorn looked at him, contemplatively stroking over his large moustache. Inevitably, Draco's gaze dropped towards the glittering rings adorning his fingers. His father would've found them garish. Draco shared this opinion.
"I've received nothing but Outstandings this year," he decided to add when the professor kept quiet for longer than thinking of an answer should take. The old man was probably weighing how much profit it could bring to him to support Draco - a former Death Eater - and if it would be worth the possible blow to his reputation should he not exceed expectations.
"Nothing but O's you say?" Slughorn muttered as if he hadn't marked Draco's work himself.
"Yes, Sir," Draco confirmed and he could almost hear the man's brain working beneath this receding hair.
"Well in that case," Slughorn eventually said, "How could I refuse such a request."
Draco felt like he was about to burst with relief. His crush on Potter could take a backseat at this moment because right now he'd gotten rid of the greatest hurdle standing in his way to having a future.
"I'll owl it to you at the next convenient time."
"Thank you, sir. That means a lot," Draco voiced, surprisingly honest. He turned, about to leave, when Slughorn kept him back.
"Mr Malfoy," the man began as if the thought had just occurred to him, "A young man of your talents would certainly not baulk at the chance to aid a fellow student in need, would you?"
"Of course not," Draco said, his smile straining as he turned back to look at his professor.
"Well, I would consider it a ...personal favour, if you would be willing to provide tutoring lessons to a certain student of mine until he's up to par with the level he wants to reach in his NEWTs."
An ominous feeling grew within Draco, but he pushed through and nodded. A favour for a favour. He would have to tutor some imbecilic 7th-year Slughorn deemed worthy of his attention and in turn, would receive his letter of recommendation. Draco had spent much more uncomfortable hours in his own home when the Dark Lord had still roamed the familiar corridors, so this was nothing.
"I wouldn't mind helping at all, sir."
"Fantastic!" Slughorn exclaimed, clapping his hands. "You may use this room for the first meeting. I'll arrange that it will be open... how about tomorrow at six?"
"Sounds good, professor," Draco said, wondering how he hadn't yet thrown up with the overuse of titles.
"Wonderful, Mr Malfoy. But do go along, we wouldn't want you to miss Transfigurations now would we?"
Another subtle dig at Draco's lack of performance in subjects that relied on a working wand. Draco was so glad to get out of Slughorn's presence, that he even forgot to ask for the name of that student. In the end, he thought, it wouldn't matter anyway.
How wrong he was.
"Potter?" Draco watched the bane of his existence, saviour of the wizarding world and unfortunate subject of his misplaced affections entering the empty potions classroom as he was waiting for the student Slughorn had heaped on him.
Potter paused, equally surprised, but not throwing the fit Draco had expected him to. Instead, he sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair, one stubborn curl bouncing right back into place before his eyes.
His bloody green eyes...
"Malfoy," Potter greeted him, accepting of his fate and then continued to fully enter the room.
"What," Draco began with an instinctive sneer, but genuinely curious, "No cursing, no gryffindorish running out of the room to demand Slughhorn to pair you with someone else?"
"I could ask the same of you," Potter countered with a shrug and dropped his bag before he let himself fall into one of the empty chairs. Even without being on a broom, Potter just seemed to emit a natural grace, one that to achieve had had to be trained into Draco from childhood on.
Not realizing he'd been staring until Potter's funny look alerted him of that fact, Draco struggled to find a reply. In his haste, he settled on the next best thing. The truth. "I need a letter of recommendation if I ever want to be accepted for an apprenticeship under a potions master. It's either tutoring you or living off the family money until what's left from paying the reparations is also gone."
Potter seemed surprised by that reply and considered Draco with a look. After a moment of hesitation, he said, "Well, I need a NEWT in potions if I want to be accepted into the Aurors, so there's that."
Draco stared at him taken aback. "Didn't the Minister personally offer every war hero a place in his new troop? I heard that even bloody Longbottom took him up on it."
"Neville's probably gonna quit soon though," Potter said, "He tried for his grandma's sake but now he wants to go into plants..." Then he seemed to realize who he was talking to and flushed a subtle pink.
Draco stared with an open mouth at Potter's reddening cheeks. His breath hitched. Potter blushing was decidedly his new favourite sight.
Meanwhile, Potter cleared his throat. "Anyway, Ron and I decided to come back to Hogwarts-"
"Weasley doesn't surprise me, but you?" Draco interrupted. Potter's brows knitted together and a certain stubbornness hardened his features. Fearing the worst, Draco quickly continued. "I mean I can't imagine Granger allowing her boyfriend to remain uneducated but you don't strike me as someone who'd let himself be intimidated into studying."
Surprisingly that startled a laugh out of Potter. "No, I-" he briefly wet his lip, hesitating - "I guess I just wanted to earn it. My place with the Aurors."
Draco looked at Potter for a long moment, wondering why exactly his mind had latched onto someone so idiotic. "I don't know if anyone told you that before, Potter. But that's one of the stupidest things I've ever heard you utter."
Against all odds, Potter looked at him with a smile. Draco felt his heart skip a beat. He swallowed around his suddenly dry mouth. "What?" he asked, wondering how in the hell he managed to not sound wrecked.
Potter shrugged. "It's just - no one's called me stupid in a while," he said so incredibly honest as if it meant nothing that he was bearing his heart to Draco like that.
"Well," Draco began when he finally managed to draw his gaze away from Potter's lips, "To the general population it would probably seem rather foolish to call you stupid, considering you did the whole world a favour by ridding it of the Dark Lord."
Potter blushed again and Draco thought that he should make it a point to compliment the other more often if only to see this expression again. But then he reminded himself that Potter was a prick, who still held on to his wand and was the reason why Draco was on the verge of failing both Charms and Transfigurations. So before he forgot that fact once more, he swiftly added, "Yet, I shouldn't have been surprised by you declaring you want to earn your way into the Aurors because that's such a Gryffindor thing to do, that being smart and taking the Minister up on his offer would've probably gone against your very nature." In a deliberate move, Draco half-turned away and started to pull out the utensils he needed for making potions.
Potter still managed to surprise him though by not rising to the bait and instead, broadening his smile into a grin. "And here I thought it was a rather Slytherin move. Giving in to my desire to prove myself and the whole ambition-shtick the hat went on about before I managed to convince it to put me into Gryffindor."
There was a loud thump when Draco dropped whatever he'd held in his hand. When he stared at Potter, the latter was grinning in barely disguised amusement. Draco knew he was probably looking rather dumb right now but he couldn't bring himself to rectify that state. "You... in Slytherin? Are you having one on me right now? I swear Potter-"
"Nope," Potter said, sounding way too entertained for Draco's tastes. "It was actually quite the discussion until I ended up where I ended up."
Draco still couldn't believe it. Potter, who seemed like the reincarnation of Godric Gryffindor himself at the best of times to Draco, had apparently scraped by becoming a snake by barely a smidge...
"So," Potter - still sounding way too smug - eventually managed to pull Draco out of having this minor crisis by asking, "Are we getting started on potions, or what?"
And thus after Draco had finally pulled himself together there followed probably one of the oddest hours in his life.
Apart from a few biting comments and insults that were being traded back and forth, Draco in hindsight found, that he'd overall spent a considerate amount of time holding a normal conversation with Potter which- dare he say it - almost could be described as pleasant.
After finding out where exactly Potter was lacking, they'd agreed on when to hold their second meeting and then gone their separate ways.
He was still walking as if he was traversing clouds when he eventually reached the common room and sat down on a couch next to Blaise.
"And how'd it go?" the other asked, mildly interested.
"Potter," Draco said.
"And here we go," Blaise muttered.
"No, you don't understand," Draco replied and looked at his friend. "Potter's the one I'm supposed to tutor in potions."
The leather of the couch creaked when Blaise turned to face Draco with an interested look. "Oh, do tell me more..." He scanned over Draco's appearance. "You don't look like you've been in a duel, nor like you've been punched. So I take it went well?"
"It was ...nice actually," Draco said, the image of Potter's smiling face swimming behind his eyes. He didn't even realize that he was smiling himself before Blaise's voice pulled him out of it.
"Wow," his fellow Slytherin replied with a smirk. "The sight of Potter's fine form really does mush up your brain, doesn't it?"
Draco mustered enough strength to briefly return to his normal self to be able to push Blaise from the couch.
Despite knowing that nothing would ever come from his feelings for Potter, he couldn't help but feel somewhat giddy with the prospect of meeting up for their second tutoring lesson.
This impression was strengthened some more, when Draco headed for the empty classroom he had chosen as this day's meetup point - only to see Potter already waiting in front of it, talking to the female Weasley, who was laughing at something he had said. He felt his steps falter before he took a deep breath and then swiftly crossed their remaining distance.
The girl spotted him first, gracing him with an odd look he couldn't quite place before she nodded. During the summer he had sent letters of apology to all kinds of people, her family included but he had yet to have a conversation with anyone but Granger who'd approached him personally the first day of school and had thanked him for writing before threatening to hex him into the hospital wing should he ever use the term 'mudblood' again.
"Malfoy," the female Weasley stated then.
Feeling like he'd passed some kind of test, Draco was careful not to show any lingering resentment he felt in front of Potter and instead returned the greeting. "Weasley," he acknowledged her briefly and then looked at the other Gryffindor because it was a sure way to keep him from cursing her. "Potter," he said, hating himself for how fond his voice sounded when he spoke the word.
"Malfoy," Potter returned the greeting and they regarded each other for a long moment, Draco almost getting lost in those green eyes...
"I better get going," the female Weasley interrupted her voice cutting through Draco's daydreams like a knife. "I've promised Luna to meet up in the library. See you later Harry." And with a pretty smile, she turned on her heels, red hair trailing after her like shimmering flames.
Everything about this, from her looks, to the way she had interrupted their moment and her mentioning Lovegood - whose name was still associated with a great deal of guilt - alongside the effortless way she called Potter Harry, made Draco hate her. And apparently, it showed on his face because Potter's expression suddenly hardened. Draco felt it like a weight in his guts.
"Next time don't bring your girlfriend," Draco stated coolly before Potter could say anything first. "We're here to work on your lacking potions skills and not for you to flirt with the weasel."
"Don't call her that," Potter hissed, anger burning behind his gaze. Draco hated that he felt the heat mirrored in his own body, but there it was pooling low in his stomach.
"Fine," he hissed and then turned and entered the empty classroom. Potter followed a moment later.
"And Ginny's just a friend."
Draco didn't know why Potter had felt the need to add that, but he was grateful nonetheless. Some of the tension he'd previously felt ruling him was lifted from him with having confirmed that Potter was indeed no longer together with her. "Blaise will be happy to hear this," he voiced to distract himself and maybe even Potter from his own confusing emotions while he fished for his potions book in his bag.
"Blaise?" Potter looked about as confused as he'd sounded when Draco spared him a glance. "You mean Zabini? What does he want with Ginny?"
"He mentioned something recently," Draco said and when he noticed Potter's look he added, "Nothing to worry about, Potter. He wouldn't ever force someone to go out with him if they weren't genuinely into him. Not his style."
"Are you his... friend?" Potter asked then out of the blue and Draco looked at him. Not seeing any reason to not reply, he nodded.
"Yeah."
Potter hummed, seemingly thoughtful. "I just always thought you were only ever hanging out with Crabbe and Goyle."
Draco swallowed around the hollow feeling that had been caused by Crabbe's death and the vivid memory of smoke and heat while he'd slung his arms around Potter's waist, holding on for dear life. "They were friends my father picked for me," Draco said eventually out loud, not thinking he could ever relay his true and complicated feelings on that matter to Potter.
Potter didn't poke. "And now you hang out with Zabini instead."
"And Theo," Draco admitted.
"And Theo," Potter echoed, the name strange coming from his mouth. The sudden desire to hear Potter say 'Draco' overcame him and he had to look away from the intensity of his green gaze.
Traversing back to safer waters, Draco got back to the reason for their actual meeting in the first place. "Did you read the books I recommended to you?"
Potter took a few steps and then sat down in a chair close to him. "Some," he said.
Draco sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Potter, this is basic theory. If you don't get that you'll never succeed in making a potion that will earn you the E you need."
"That's why we're here, aren't we?" Potter said and Draco simply looked at him deadpan.
Potter was lucky that he was handsome, Draco supposed.
"Just show me what you don't get and I'll try to explain it so that even you with your imbecilic brain will understand."
"For a moment, I swear I could see the ghost of Snape possess you," Potter joked dryly, pulling out a few of the books Draco had advised him to read after last time's conversation.
"If that were the case, you would've lost Gryffindor a dozen points for your cheek already," Draco shot back. "Do keep up, Potter."
"Whatever you say," Potter replied, "Professor." And when he looked at Draco from under his annoyingly wild hair with a challenging look, Draco was reminded once again that he was well and truly fucked.
From then on, they met up two to three times a week and Draco found out more about Potter than he'd ever deemed possible. He also came to learn, that apparently a crush could become worse and that the sight of Potter, rolling up his sleeves to cut his potions ingredients, could turn him brain-dead in an instant.
As it turned out, Potter was apparently not the only one who'd harboured some resentment towards the male Weasley for making a big deal out of the breakup between Potter and Ginevra and that because of it, the red-headed girl had agreed to go out on a date with Blaise simply out of spite.
It was also then, shortly after, that Draco was given back his own wand.
"Um, I don't know how to really begin," Potter had said after the end of one of their meet-ups and looked at Draco somewhat sheepishly. "So, I'm just gonna start by apologizing." And in his open palm, he had held out Draco's hawthorn wand - the wand he'd bought when he'd been eleven and had learned to love just as much as he had grown to resent the one with a core of dragon heartstring that had belonged to his father when he'd taken it up as a shoddy replacement. "Well, um - I'm sorry for not giving it back earlier. I know how much it sucks to not have your wand and I really wanted to return it to you - I swear - but there was just so much going on, the funerals and the trials and interviews and I simply forgot. I'm sorry it took a mention from Ginny that according to Zabini you are failing Transfigurations and Charms because you can't bond with the wand you have now. And the wand chooses the wizard after all and I'm just-"
"Do shut up, Potter," Draco had then said to interrupt the rambling, rather glad that even with his incredulous expression he still hadn't been the more awkward of the two and then he'd taken his wand. And while Potter had been rubbing the back of his neck smiling an awkward but sweet smile, Draco had done his best to focus on the feeling of warmth and rightness tingling through his hand and not his guts. He had then cast the first spell that had come to his mind - a colour-changing lumos he'd often begged his mother to perform for him before he had started Hogwarts - and had smiled.
Draco had raised his head to thank Potter but had been rendered speechless instead. Potter had looked at him with such an odd expression on his face, flecks of rainbow painted onto his skin as he was bathed in the warm and soothing light of Draco's charm, evoking a wave of emotion the latter hadn't been able to deal with. Draco had stormed off without another word because if he'd lingered for only a second longer, he surely would've grabbed Potter by his collar and hauled him in to kiss him.
After that, things were awkward for a bit, but Draco refused to let that rule him and in the end, they returned to their usual routine.
Unfortunately, Blaise dating Ginny as Draco was now forced to acknowledge her as, meant that he was now subjected to her continuous presence and subsequently those of her friends - most notable Lovegood and on occasion Granger. Weasley thankfully stayed away most of the time, having had another fight with his sister over her suddenly dating a Slytherin.
In addition, while the trend of using the name 'Potter' as a curse had died down, it had now apparently taken hold of Potter's own little group of sycophants, which came with the drawback that Draco frequently got reminded of his unfortunate affections by the very friends of Potter himself.
And it was during one of those days of socializing with Blaise's new girlfriend and her friends when things with Potter took a fateful turn.
It was a Hogsmeade weekend and they were currently squeezed around a table in the crowded taproom of the Three Broomsticks. Blaise was contently lounging in his seat, one arm lazily draped over the back of Ginny's chair, while he was shooting Draco amused looks, too aware of how uncomfortable the latter got with the direction the conversation at the table was taking.
Theo had found a fellow conversational partner in Lovegood and was too wrapped up in a discussion about magical insects to pay attention, but Draco was all the more sensible to Granger and Ginny chatting about various crushes they'd harboured over the duration of their time in Hogwarts.
Without his conscious decision, his eyes found Potter, who sat only two tables further next to Weasley, who hadn't taken his eyes off Granger since she'd casually inserted herself into their group about fifteen minutes ago.
Potter had found his gaze and shot him a small smile and Draco nodded in acknowledgement. Weasley's resentment towards Slytherins and the ongoing strain between him and his sister were the only reasons they hadn't joined completely. And of course, Potter did the stupid and honourable thing and went out of his way to be a supportive friend to his best mate.
"So, Malfoy," Ginny addressed him, causing Draco to turn away from Potter and to look at her and Granger. "Who were the unfortunate girls catching your attention?" She looked at him with mirth in her eyes and a certain curiosity that was mirrored in Granger's barely concealed interest.
Draco blamed the two butterbeers and three firewhiskeys for the next sentence that came out of his mouth.
"I'm gay."
Granger's jaw dropped open, while Ginny's formed a small oh. Theo and Lovegood hadn't even looked up from their conversation while Blaise was regarding him with a somewhat interested but not surprised look.
Draco had never before even thought to label his preferences in any way, always having accepted that he would one day have to marry and sire an heir that would continue the Malfoy line. Yet things after the war had changed. And with the acknowledgement of his feelings for Potter, this answer had come to him so naturally that he hadn't even thought about it twice before uttering it.
Draco observed all of this in a distant sort of way, finding some humour in the thought that perhaps he should be frightened a bit more about this newfound revelation, yet not finding himself caring about it at all. That was until he heard a loud crash of something breaking and then he was looking at Potter who was staring at him with a wide-eyed expression, the lack of a butterbeer bottle in his hand enough evidence of who had caused the sound.
Draco felt shaken to the very core by this gaze and he swallowed once before pulling his own eyes away. Granger was looking at Potter with a thoughtful expression, while Ginny was eyeing Draco with a gaze that told him more about her perceptiveness than he could currently bear. He locked eyes with Blaise who shot him a concerned look.
"I'm gonna head back," Draco announced, shaking his head at Theo who had briefly surfaced from his conversation with Lovegood and seemed rather confused about what was going on.
Draco deliberately didn't look at Potter while he carved his way through the oblivious crowd. Exiting the stuffed pub, he was hit with a wall of cold air. Shakily, Draco exhaled raising two hands, first rubbing over his face before trailing further up, running them through his hair.
Whether Potter was a secret homophobe, or if he was struck by the sudden realization that Draco was in love with him hardly seemed to matter at this point. But Draco had known as soon as their eyes had met, that something had inevitably shattered within Potter at the revelation that Draco was gay. And if Draco knew one thing, then it was that he never got lucky.
Feeling like he was only one step away from crying, Draco pulled himself together and started his walk up the snowy streets of Hogsmeade, hands buried deep in his pockets.
"Malfoy!"
Potter's voice made him want to hide and never return. Draco sped up his steps and dove into a secluded alleyway between two buildings - a barbershop and a store dealing in antiques.
The walls were covered in graffiti and the scribbles of immature Hogwarts students.
"Malfoy! Wait!" Potter's voice sounded closer and he was panting as if he'd jogged to catch up to him. "Goddamnit, Draco!"
Draco froze and slowly turned around. Potter was standing there in the alleyway, cheeks flushed and his hair dishevelled.
Merlin, Draco loved him.
Potter took a few deliberate steps towards him, his expression serious - and stubbed his foot on a loose cobblestone on the ground. "Fucking... Potter," he cursed with a hiss as he curled in on himself with pain.
Draco could only stare for a long disbelieving moment before he unconsciously let out an ugly snort at what he was witnessing.
Potter glared at him, still hissing and Draco couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh - I know it's funny," Potter uttered but he didn't sound as angry as he'd appeared to be moments before. When Draco finally managed to look at him in his laughter, he found that the corners of Potter's mouth were twitching upwards.
"You just cursed... using yourself," Draco stated between laughs if only to convince himself of the realness of this happening.
"Look," Potter said and now he was truly grinning, "I don't know how it started. Everyone seemed to be doing it all of a sudden and then Seamus kept doing it and Ron and Ginny-" He shrugged- "I kinda picked up on it."
Draco's breath seemed to be stuck in his lungs when Potter looked at him with his small smile. There was something about him at this moment, that caused Draco to want to confess everything. "Do you-" Draco began and hesitated before he scrapped up all his courage. "Do you want to know how it started?" he asked, telling himself, that whatever Potter's answer was it would direct the outcome of this whole conversation.
Potter slightly tilted his head, still smiling but curious. "Do you know how it started?" He took a step towards Draco, who nodded breathily.
"It was my fault, actually," he admitted.
"Really?" Potter said and now he was standing directly in front of Draco. He was a bit taller than him and so Draco looked directly at his lips.
"Yeah," he breathed.
"And how come?"
"I complained about you," Draco said and for this part, he couldn't look Potter in the eyes. Instead, he proceeded to trace over Potter's jawline with his gaze, the shadow of a beard and the bow of his lips.
Potter hummed.
"I complained a lot. And one day Blaise said that since I seemed to blame you for every one of my problems, he wanted to try it out too."
"Oh," Potter said quietly.
"Yeah. It made me realize that I thought about you a lot," Draco admitted and suddenly it felt like the easiest thing in the world to look at Potter's green eyes. "And that it wasn't because I hated you like I always had thought. It was because I had a crush on you."
"Oh," Potter said.
"Yeah," Draco replied.
Potter's throat bobbed when he swallowed. "How long?" he asked and then Draco smiled.
"I spent an awful lot of time on these 'Potter stinks' buttons during our fourth year, you know. More than justified in hindsight."
"I always thought they were kinda neat," Potter said then, like the socially inept person he was.
And because Potter was an awful liar, Draco did the only sensible thing he could do after such a daring statement. He grabbed him by his cloak and firmly looked him in his eyes which had turned into black holes with a thin green ring around the expanded pupils.
"Shut up, Harry," Draco said and then he leaned forward and kissed him.
And Harry kissed him back.