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Draco was daydreaming as he sat at the Slytherin table.
He was going to see his boyfriend, Ron, for a sneaky make-out session before Charms.
And then he was going to see his other boyfriend, Harry, after dinner.
“I can’t even keep one boyfriend,” Pansy grumbled.
Draco merely smirked.
“You don’t have my charm,” he said, flourishing a hand in the air.
Pansy took out her lipstick, before covertly glancing around and applying it, using a little handheld compact. “I have plenty of charms, believe me.”
Draco let out an amused hum. “Well, there are plenty of fish in the sea. Not too many Gryffindors left, though…”
Pansy’s eyes were sparkling. “I still can’t believe you,” she said, as Daphne Greengrass and Gregory Goyle approached the table. “You with two Gryffindors.”
Draco immediately shushed her. “What was the point of me telling you it’s a secret, if you’re going to blab about it?” he said quickly, eyeing how Greg’s face creased in confusion.
Uh oh.
“What was that about Draco and Gryffindor?” Greg asked, sliding onto the seat opposite Pansy.
“Uh…” Pansy shot Draco a quick look of concern. “He’s talking about how… we’re going to finally beat Gryffindor in the House Point tally this year.”
“Ew,” Daphne’s delicate features drew inwards in an expression of distaste. “We’re Eighth-years now, can’t we just leave the squabbling to the younger years? I’m trying to focus on something that will actually matter once we leave school, like NEWT grades.”
“Ah,” Pansy said with interest. “Aiming for high in the Ministry still, Daph?”
“Anything to get out of my parents trying to marry me off,” Daphne said, reaching for a slice of toast. “You should see my sister—Mother can hardly talk of anything except her nearly being at marrying age.”
Draco looked down the table at Daphne’s little sister. Astoria Greengrass was giggling with some friends, black curls framing a pretty face, pale blue eyes bright.
But just behind her, Draco’s eyes drifted to a much more gorgeous pair of blue eyes that were watching him. Ron raised an eyebrow, his fingers smoothing back tousled auburn locks, before his lips curved into a smile. Fuck, he was hot. So hot.
Draco couldn’t help giving him a flirty smile in return.
Maybe Daphne was right. There were much more interesting things to focus on this year.
And later as Draco and Ron snuck off to the secret passageway in the Charms corridor, kissing each other before the tapestry had even swung shut, and even later than that, he and Harry shared some churros that Draco had swiped from dessert, legs tangled and laughing together, Draco found that he believed that with all his heart.
As Draco sat doing his Defence Against the Dark Arts homework later that evening, his eyes darting over to Harry and Ron sitting opposite him in the common room, Draco marvelled over how much had changed.
This time two years ago, he would have been thinking about how to use Dark Arts against Harry and Ron.
And it would have been in the Slytherin common room—not the Eighth-year common room that had been organised by McGonagall for those returning for extra studies after that horrendous last year.
Around the room, students of different Houses were mixing, chatting together and gossiping. Next to Draco, sat Granger—Ron’s ex, who had been pretty gracious to Draco when he’d mumbled out his apologies to the three of them at the start of term. Then Draco couldn’t help the way his eyes slid over to the boys sitting in front of him. Both strong in character, and in looks—and both his.
Draco hadn’t intended to get himself two boyfriends.
Merlin, his father would have a fit if he knew.
The Malfoy Patriarch was fully focused on rehabilitating the Malfoy name after the war; a difficult task when Lucius had a reputation for cursing and/or poisoning those who disagreed with him.
That didn’t exactly make it easy for people to believe that he was suddenly a pleasant, reformed and honourable member of Wizarding society. And Salazar, Draco couldn’t even blame them. After all, he’d been, what, twelve years old, when he went with his father to Knockturn Alley to try to sell off poisons before Malfoy Manor could be raided. That wasn’t exactly the behaviour of a good citizen. In fact, Draco was pretty sure that the lovely Order of the Phoenix members would call it destroying evidence, or something like that. So it was going to take a lot of work to try to restore the honour of the Malfoy Family.
And Draco’s father was very focused on that.
As far as Lucius Malfoy was concerned, the best way to rehabilitate the Malfoy name was to marry well. Interestingly enough, this seemed to be the Malfoys’ approach to… well, everything.
Finances running low? Marry well.
Stop any wandering gazes toward young peasant women? Marry well.
The heir to the family was nearly killed falling off a Pegasus on an exciting, exotic trip? Bring him back home and get him to marry well.
So it had kind of been a relief to be mandated by the Wizengamot to return to Hogwarts for an Eighth year.
He was spared from engagement talks and being summoned to Father’s office to pore over Genealogy books. And he was once more enjoying gossiping in class, cheering on his House at Quidditch, and eying up the fit blokes.
Yum.
And a Slytherin would take advantage of a delightful opportunity, right? Especially if it dropped not just one but two gorgeous blokes into their lap. Or their bed, as the case may be.
First, it had been with Potter—the two of them fighting over who would get to be the Seeker for their impromptu Eighth-year Quidditch team. They’d ended up wrestling on the Quidditch Pitch which had derailed into a snogging session once they’d realised how turned on the other was. Draco had pulled Harry into the Quidditch showers and gotten to work showing Harry that he did know how to use his so-called ‘big, fat, mouth’ until Harry had blissfully agreed.
It had been dizzying, incredible, to see Harry fall apart under his actions. And as they kissed again after, Draco knew that just once wasn’t enough. Luckily Harry agreed, inviting Draco to mess around with him before Transfiguration the next day, and Draco had been quick to accept. When the locker room filled with other players, they kept sneaking glances at each other, sharing secret smiles.
And then later that night, while Draco was on the way back to his room after a shower, he’d walked into a spider web. The Eighth-years were housed in an old wing of the castle, and to Draco’s horror, a spider had decided to spin a new web in the formerly-unused corridor, right before Draco arrived. He’d shivered as the fine silk thread brushed his neck, and when he’d actually seen the spider on him he’d shrieked and frantically tried to brush it off himself, his heart still pounding as he scrambled to get back from the creature.
Weasley had come running at Draco’s yells, and after initially trying to hold back a smile while watching Draco dance around and jabber about danger, as soon as Draco had said there’d been a spider, Weasley had changed. He’d swallowed, his face going very very pale, and stood in front of Draco to shield him from the beast. Draco had peeked around his arms as the spider scurried off, and after it had left, they’d both let out exhilarated breaths.
And then somehow, without Draco even knowing how it happened, Weasley’s arms were around him, and he stayed in Weasley’s embrace until the last of the trembles had subsided. Weasley then gave him a shy smile and said he was still working on trying to be brave.
And Draco had said he was doing a very good job.
And then they’d kissed in the corridor, a secret, glorious thing, leaving Draco a blushing mess as Weasley waved foolishly at him when they parted.
Oops?
But he and Harry weren’t serious, Draco told himself. They’d just made plans to mess around, casually. And Harry didn’t even give Draco a chance to say anything when he arrived at the third floor corridor the next day, more focused on pulling Draco inside the quiet classroom and greeting him with a kiss, before dropping to his knees.
And then Draco wasn’t even able to think of any words while Harry worked to bring Draco to orgasm as fast as he could. And oh, did he succeed. Before he knew what was happening, Draco was coming, fingers clenched in Harry’s dark, disordered locks, as his knees grew weak and pleasure swept through him.
“Harry,” Draco had managed to gasp out, slumped against the wall, chest heaving, fingers still clutching Harry’s hair, “what are we doing?”
Harry had the nerve to raise an eyebrow. “I would have thought that was obvious. But I’d be happy to give another demonstration tomorrow too, if that would help.”
Draco tried to glare at him, but couldn’t hold back a smile at that, and it wasn’t helped by the fact his fingers still stroked Harry’s hair. “I just meant… I—fuck—I obviously loved this, but should probably tell you something… unless you spoke to Ron…?”
Harry’s face went pale, and he quickly shook his head. “Ron… he doesn’t know. About me. I—I just started figuring myself out and working out what I want, and fuck knows the Prophet will delve into any relationships they hear about. I thought if we just—you know—keep things casual, we could have some fun, enjoy ourselves a bit. What… what do you think?”
Draco noticed how Harry’s eyes had gone dark, and how he was very still, waiting for Draco’s answer.
And Draco’s lips curved into a smile. “I think I can deal with that.”
Then he pulled Harry up into a kiss, showing him just how much he liked it.
Then during Draco’s free period, he headed to the library to do some studying. He ran into Ron on the way there, and by the way Ron’s ears grew red and he sent Draco a small smile, he obviously was thinking back to their kiss the night before.
Not that Draco could blame him.
Draco couldn’t help smiling back, and before he knew quite what was happening, they were both walking to the library together, shoulders brushing. They shared a look, and headed to the Goblin Wars row, darting inside together.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about last night,” Ron said, and Merlin his smile was so cute.
“Me neither,” Draco admitted, and there was a flutter in his tummy as Ron smiled even more.
“I wanted to invite you back to my room,” Ron said softly, “But Harry was there.”
Harry.
Fuck.
“So,” Draco said, even though the thought of both Harry and Ron was making his knees feel quite weak. “What did, um, Harry say when you got back to the room?”
Ron grew quiet, his lip pursing thoughtfully.
And that didn’t help at all, because Draco wanted to feel the shape of it beneath his lips.
Ron cleared his throat. “Well he—he doesn’t know about me liking guys. He could tell something was up, though,” Ron continued, a little sparkle in his eye. “‘Finally getting over Hermione?’ he asked me.”
“What did you say?” Draco asked, furiously ignoring the flush of heat to his face.
“I may have said that there was… someone…” Ron said in a low voice. “But the way he kept teasing me about who it was—Hannah Abbott, Mandy Brocklehurst, Lisa Turpin…” Ron broke off, and Draco couldn’t help the little tug at his heart at the way Ron’s lip ticked down, “he, well, he obviously assumed it was a witch.”
Draco let out a breath. “Sorry, that must have been rough.”
Ron, in all his tall glory and serious Wizarding-World-saving-eyes scuffed at the floor with his trainers. “Yeah, I just… I haven’t told anyone, you know, about how I feel toward blokes. Not my parents, or my sister, or especially not Harry. I don’t want to give this—” he gestured between himself and Draco “—up. If you’re, er, interested. But maybe we could take things slowly. No pressure. Not lock ourselves in to a full-on exclusive relationship but see where it goes?”
And then Ron looked at him with those gorgeous blue eyes, and before he knew what he was doing, Draco was nodding.
And then they were kissing again, right in the book stacks.
Fuck. Draco really wasn’t doing a good job at keeping a low profile this year.
He stopped caring, though, as Ron moved to press kisses along his neck.
Instead, he clutched Ron closer, and tilted his head better, which Ron immediately took advantage of.
When they finally emerged from the book stacks, grinning and letting go of each other, Draco had walked over to his usual study desk, sliding onto his seat and covering his cheeks with his hands.
Okay. So, he’d kissed both Harry AND Ron.
It had been immensely enjoyable.
They hadn’t told the other.
Maybe Draco could just… keep going?
Fuck, after the year he’d had, frankly, who could blame him for enjoying himself for once?
It had been exhilarating, getting to know Harry and orchestrating secret little hook-ups all over the castle that led to snogging in the Owlery, or Harry whisking Draco away to the kitchens for midnight snacks, hand in hand. They found themselves talking more and more, gravitating towards each other, eyes seeking each other’s even when they were apart, sitting separately during lessons, or eating in the Great Hall, with the promise of what was to come a delicious, sexy secret.
And in the meantime, he and Ron also started seeing each other, and being just as adventurous—from sweet dates together in Hogsmeade, to sneakily bringing each other off in the Potions storeroom, breathing together and trying to keep back moans as quietly as they could.
Draco and Harry had always had a spark, and they were just as drawn to each other now. When they were younger, Draco hadn’t been able to leave him alone, always wanting his attention, and he’d been thrilled whenever those emerald eyes gazed at him. But Ron had been a surprise. Draco discovered that he was kind—if at times a bit insecure—but also funny and clever. They slid each other looks whenever weird concepts were brought up in mandatory Eighth-year Muggle Studies, and Ron was wicked good at Wizard’s chess. The best Draco had ever played against, actually.
And he came from a house of Slytherins.
Draco was always very careful, though, not to let Harry and Ron run into the other.
Merlin, that would be a nightmare.
But couldn’t help his feelings for each of them deepening. And he just couldn’t stay away. So he found himself very carefully scheduling how often he could see each of them, often falling victim to Harry looking at him with those gorgeous green eyes or Ron reaching for him, tangling their fingers together and pulling Draco closer for one last kiss.
And if it earned him a knowing look from Pansy, or resulted in Draco holding his breath as he slipped into his dorm room at night, trying to avoid waking his dormmates as he got into bed, it was so worth it.
He’d curl up at night, grinning as he hid his face in his pillow.
For once, Draco was having a fantastic time at Hogwarts.
And he was so glad that he had come back.
“Er… Draco?” Blaise’s voice called, while Draco groaned and tried to hide under his blankets.
Surely the sanctity of the weekend did not deserve to be broken.
“’s a Saturday Blaise,” Draco mumbled, lowering his sleep mask further over his eyes. “Why are you ruining it?”
Blaise cleared his throat. “You have a… uh…” there was a pause. “Visitor.”
Draco sat up all at once. “A visitor?” he asked, his heart pounding.
He ripped off his sleep mask and tore back the hangings, to find Blaise looking at him with interest. And beside him by the door was… Harry!
Draco practically ran over, shoving Blaise out of the way. And ignoring the amused look on Blaise’s face.
“Harry!” Draco managed to say as he slipped through the door, unable to stop a grin growing on his face.
“Hey Draco,” Harry said, his face matching Draco’s. “Would you like to get some breakfast together?”
“Of course,” Draco said at once. “I’ll… I’ll have to get ready, I, uh, wasn’t awake yet, but I’ll be back in a sec, I promise.”
But then Draco realised that Harry had paused, a smile still on his face.
“Your hair’s all ruffled.”
Uh oh. He had totally forgotten about the sleep mask.
Draco made a face. “Yeah, alright. I know. And it looks horrid, and I’m all pale from sleep, and—”
But then Harry drew Draco into his arms, and Draco couldn’t help melting as Harry hugged him. “Merlin, you’re adorable. Just get back here quick, alright?”
Draco flushed as they let go, and he gripped the doorhandle, shooting Harry a smile. “I will.”
When he slipped back inside the dorm room, it was to find his roommates staring at him.
“What?” Draco snapped, and thank Merlin they all quickly went back to their own things.
Draco tossed back his head and couldn’t help a smirk as he headed to his trunk to get ready.
Draco and Harry ended up going for a walk by the greenhouses, admiring the roses that were in bloom.
“So, have you heard any news from Andromeda about Teddy?” Draco asked, knowing that talking about his godson always made Harry smile.
And Harry, indeed, grinned at him, his face lighting up with pleasure. “He’s started crawling! She sent me a photo, and he’s adorable, looking up at the camera happily with his hair his favourite shade of blue. Andromeda says she constantly has to chase after him. But she’s really proud, I just know it.”
Draco couldn’t stop himself from taking Harry’s hand, and they smiled at each other.
“I bet you can’t wait to see him again,” Draco said.
“And I’m sure Andromeda would be happy for you to visit,” Harry said softly. “Has your mother written her a letter yet?”
Draco squeezed Harry’s hand. “Not yet. But she will.”
“These things take time,” Harry said. “There are different sorts of bravery, and facing your family’s disapproval is completely different from a battle. But I’m sure she can do it.”
“I hope so,” Draco confessed. “I was an only child, and I always wanted more family members.”
“Oh?” Harry asked with interest. “What about all the talk about the Pride of the Malfoys and their sole heir to inherit everything?”
“Well,” Draco confessed, his heart fluttering. “That’s hardly likely to happen now, isn’t it, since I’ve completely ruined Father’s plans for me to get engaged to a fancy pureblood girl after school.”
“And thank Merlin for that,” Harry said, drawing closer.
Draco and Harry ended up grinning at each other, and in the dappled sunlight through the trees, they leaned in for a kiss.
Draco got back in time for the Slytherins’ weekly brunch catch-up; a tradition that had begun seven years earlier, and woe betide anyone who would even think about breaking it.
Pansy was waiting for Draco and she pulled Draco inside the castle almost the moment he got back.
“Ta-ta, Potter,” she said sweetly as Draco hurriedly looked back toward Harry.
“Uh, bye, Parkinson?” Harry replied, and Draco could only wave before he was yanked away.
“You could at least have let me kiss him good-bye,” Draco grumbled. “It’s not my fault you’re single.”
The look Pansy threw at him could have rivalled a Basilisk’s glare. Ouch.
But Draco generously decided to forgive her.
And he was very intrigued when she snuck a look back at him.
“Actually,” Pansy said in a whisper, as they stepped onto the staircase, “There might be someone I have my eye on.”
“No,” Draco said in delight. “Who is it?”
Pansy looked furtively from side to side. “Longbottom.”
“LONGBOTTOM?!” Draco practically screeched.
“SHUSH!!” Pansy hissed, her eyes flashing.
Draco cowered under her glare, his back against the banister.
Pansy took a deep breath, lifting her head and tucking her hair back down into its usual glossy bob. “I don’t think that it’s that hard to believe, after all, look at what you’re up to.”
Draco couldn’t help smirking. “Oh? So you decided to get a Gryffindor for yourself?”
Pansy flushed. “As if you can judge.”
Well. Draco found himself growing red. That certainly was true.
“Come on, Pansy,” Draco lowered his voice, leading them back up the staircase again. “You’re right—as if I’m one to talk. I’m just surprised.”
“Well, weren’t you saying I deserved a decent man?” Pansy said.
“Of course you do, Pans.”
“So there.”
Draco couldn’t hold back a smirk. “Fine, Pansy. Oh, let me guess—you’re the flower he’s been waiting for, right?”
“Draco!” Pansy yelled, and Draco took that as his cue to dash up the stairs, laughing as she chased behind him.
Draco managed to get to the Eighth-year common room before Pansy could clobber him—and good thing, too, because she had quite an arm on her.
He sat down in the common room, and Draco promised to keep quiet about Pansy’s new love interest as they sat together on the couch and cast charms on the hearth to bring the flames to a warm blaze. Blaise brought over the tea, Greg the biscuits, Daphne the milk and sugar, Theo a plate of strawberry-studded muffins, Tracey a platter of sandwiches, and Millie her aunt’s fabulous tea set, and they all sat down to gossip together just like usual.
“Do you have Quidditch after this?” Pansy asked Draco, who shook his head.
“Not this week, actually. We’re meeting on Monday instead.”
The Eighth-year Quidditch team gave Draco an even bigger opportunity to sneak casual touches and spend time with Harry and Ron. With Draco re-assigned as a Chaser, Harry as Seeker, Ron as Keeper, Millicent and Longbottom as Beaters, and Goldstein and Boot as the other Chasers, they gathered every week to practice and competed against the official House teams as a way to give them some extra practice. And Draco loved the way he could lean against Ron as their team gathered together for a huddle, or throw his arms around Harry in celebration when he snatched victory for their team. Not to mention the thrill of looking at each other in the locker room, eyes lighting up as everyone filtered out of the room to get some time alone.
“Do you think Slytherin stand much of a chance, with Harper as Seeker?” Theodore asked in a hushed voice. Because of course, even though they were Eighth-years and weren’t competing for the Cup, they could still root for their old house, right?
Draco didn’t even have to pause to consider. “No,” he said dejectedly, causing everyone to sigh.
“But what if they got Pritchard to sub?” Tracey asked. “He has excellent coordination—if he’s not in detention anymore for pranks, that is.”
“Then Slytherin might stand a chance!”
“Listen,” Draco said softly to Pansy as the others talked louder and louder, “speaking of Quidditch, Longbottom’s a pretty good Beater, and excellent at sportsmanship. I can see why you’d like him. So just know—you have my full support.”
“Oh?” Pansy asked, her eyes lighting up. “And here I thought you might be difficult.”
“Me? You take that back,” Draco said, narrowing his eyes.
Pansy nudged him, and they both started laughing.
“You know,” Pansy said thoughtfully, a shy smile growing on her face, “usually people try and act tough when they’re with me. But he’s really sweet. He held the greenhouse door open for me for Herbology, just because that’s the sort of person he is. And when we were partners in Potions, he knew his stuff, but he was just nervous about messing up. But he’s a good wizard, Draco. And I really want to see more of him.”
They settled into the couch together, exchanging smiles.
And when they did their homework together later, Draco couldn’t help grinning as he saw Pansy sneak glances at Longbottom. Things were truly changing between Slytherin and Gryffindor… and all for the better.
The next morning, Draco lay back against all his pillows on his bed, his textbook open in his lap.
He knew Ron and Harry were doing something together.
Ironically, they had each told him about it, separately. When Harry had first mentioned taking Ron to buy some Quidditch gloves, Draco’s heart had nearly fallen out of his chest. What an absolutely fantastic idea—to get Ron a present of something that he really wanted, but might not necessarily think of for himself. Ron had been putting up with his old ones (from his brother, Bill, apparently) for years. But a present to encourage Ron at something he was good at was such a brilliant idea. Not to mention the thought of him wearing those gloves… Fuck, he would look so sexy.
And just imagining the smile on Ron’s face, when he received them…
Draco had to stop himself grinning at that.
He’d pulled a very serious face. “Oh, of course, Harry,” he’d said gravely. “I understand. He’s been putting up with those gloves all term. That’s a really great idea to get him a present like that.”
Harry had grinned at him, and yep—there was the other assault on Draco’s heart.
Was he ever safe?
But he’d managed to hug Harry and tell him it was brilliant, and wave him off before Harry left for Hogsmeade.
It was just that now, he was imagining both of them, trying on gloves in the shop. Harry, a cute frown between his eyebrows, carefully inspecting the rows of Quidditch gear.
Ron, flexing his fingers, his hands snug in the smooth leather of his new gloves.
Draco took a deep breath.
It was okay. They would be back soon.
And he had plenty of work to catch up on—work he should have been doing earlier in the week when he’d been running around with both of them.
One of the ideas put forward after the War was for the students to learn a foreign language. It had been thought up by Professor McGonagall—the idea that encouraging unity among magical schools was all well and good, but that in practice, children from the United Kingdom did not get much of a chance to learn other languages. Evidently, this left Hogwarts graduates with a lot fewer opportunities to integrate with magical society outside of the UK.
And that was going to change with her.
So to everyone’s horror, they were assigned to language classes.
And although Draco already spoke French, he found out that previous language experience did NOT count toward this new requirement.
No, instead he had to learn a new language.
Harry was learning French (and that was very hilarious indeed). Ron was learning Greek. Granger was learning Bulgarian (which she was very giggly about), Pansy was learning Swedish. And Draco was assigned to German.
So Draco picked up his textbook, determined to get further and catch up on his work from the week.
He opened the book to Chapter 4, and started reading about families.
He carefully sounded out the words, checking his reference notes to make sure he was pronouncing everything correctly. If he didn’t quite do it well, he made himself try again, until he was reasonably confident he was saying the words correctly.
He was so immersed in his book, he didn’t even notice when Ron came back, and as Ron poked his head around the door, Draco hastily hid his textbook under the covers.
But not quickly enough.
“What was that?” Ron asked, a curious smile growing on his face.
“Nothing,” Draco said quickly, casually sliding his leg to cover the rumpled bedcover.
Ron came closer. “Didn’t seem like nothing. If you’re busy…? ”
“No, I’m not,” Draco said, sitting up in bed.
“Well, do I get a kiss hello?”
Draco smiled. “Of course.”
Ron kissed him, and Draco knew he was smiling when Ron drew back.
“So how did it go with the shopping?” Draco asked, shifting across on the bed.
Ron’s whole face lit up. “Bloody brilliant. Harry got me some brand-new Quidditch gloves! They’re so comfortable—I bet if we were playing against each other again you’d stand no chance of scoring against me, and you’d be sure to call me King Weasley again.”
Draco had to shake his head and stifle a laugh. “Won’t you ever give up on that?”
Ron pretended to think. Then he grinned. “Nope! That was all your idea, anyway.”
Yes. That was true.
Salazar, he really hadn’t been subtle at all when he’d been younger and still working things out, had he?
“So,” Ron said again in a softer voice. “Will you tell me what you’ve been doing?”
Draco covered his face with his hands. “If you really must know, I was doing the language study for Professor McGonagall.”
“Share some with me?”
Ron could have been a member of the Order of the Phoenix’s Interrogation team with those adorable blue eyes.
They just made Draco want to keep talking to him. Merlin. Draco was so weak for gorgeous eyes. Draco took a deep breath to settle himself, before beginning to speak the words.
“Ich habe keine Geschwister (I’m an only child),” Draco said in a slow voice. “Ich bin achtzehn Jahre alt. Ich wohne hier in Hogwarts. (I am eighteen years old. I live here at Hogwarts.)”
Ron was looking at him in amazement.
Draco gave him a small smile. “Ich habe Angst vor Spinnen. Aber du bist fantastisch, Ron. (I’m scared of spiders. But you are fantastic, Ron.)”
Then Ron was pulling him in for another kiss. Draco couldn’t help melting against him, trying to keep the warm, incredibly soft spot in his chest under control.
“Fuck, you sound so cute,” Ron said, his ears adorably pink. “What were you saying?”
Draco relaxed back on his straight arms, looking coyly at him. “Ah, that you live in a fantasy sometimes.”
But the way Ron’s smile grew made Draco think that he could see right through him.
Draco just shoved Ron’s shoulder, which earned him a retaliatory push in return, until they were wrestling on the bed, hearts pounding and laughing into the room.
Even though Ron managed to push Draco back against the sheets, a thigh sliding teasingly between his legs as Ron leaned in for a kiss, Draco curled his leg around Ron’s calf, thrusting their hips together and flipped them, pinning Ron underneath him.
“Hey, do you think we have time...?” Ron asked softly, arching a scarlet brow.
Draco looked over at the door, where soft voices were talking outside.
“Just wait right here,” he said, sliding off Ron’s lap.
Draco cracked the door open, finding his friends chatting together as they walked down to the common room.
“I’m still busy,” Draco said, faking a sigh. “Working on vocabulary for my language study class can be so tough. Can you keep it quiet about where I am, so I’m not disturbed?”
Well-versed in attaining excellence, his friends immediately nodded.
“Under no circumstances,” Draco said seriously, looking each of them in the eye.
At that, Pansy got a mischievous look in her eyes, but she gamely nodded.
Draco waved them off, then shut the door, and turned back to Ron.
“Ready to have your world rocked?” Draco asked, climbing back on the bed.
Ron pulled him in for a kiss, and Draco grinned against his lips.
Draco couldn’t help tucking back a lock of Ron’s hair. The vibrant red strands felt dangerous—just like what they were doing. And the way Ron smiled, encouragingly, blue eyes lighting up, was gorgeous. So of course Draco couldn’t resist him.
Draco’s fingers scrabbled with the hem of Ron’s top, even as they leaned in to kiss each other again. After a flurry of clothing, finally Draco had Ron shirtless, able to admire his broad, freckled shoulders and firm chest. He pushed Ron down quickly on the bed, moving to straddle him. Ron just let out a happy groan as Draco settled on top, eyes locked on each other.
“So,” Ron said in a low voice. “What are you going to do with me, Draco?”
Draco grinned, rolling their hips together. “I’m going to—”
But before he could finish detailing his sexy, kinky idea, a voice called out…
“Draco?”
Draco only just held back a gasp, and Ron’s eyes widened.
Fuck.
What was Harry doing here?
They looked at each other in panic, before—
“Quick!” Draco hissed, his heart already pounding as to his horror, the knob started to turn.
There was nothing for it.
Draco twisted to the side and shoved Ron away and off the bed, wincing as he heard Ron let out an, “Ouch, fuck!” from the floor.
Draco ignored him though, hurriedly trying to fix his hair.
He knew he was hopelessly flushed, and when the door slowly pushed open, he frantically threw himself against the pillows, grabbing a book from his bedside.
Harry poked his head around the door, his gorgeous green eyes lighting up as he saw Draco. “Hey.”
“Uh, hi, Harry,” Draco managed to say back, as the rustling on the floor next to him immediately stilled.
“Mind if I come in?” Harry continued sweetly.
Salazar.
Draco scrambled off the bed, leaving his book thrown carelessly on the messy bed. “Actually,” he said breathlessly, managing to get to the door before Harry could advance another step, “it’s a bit of a mess.”
“Hmmm, bit like you then,” Harry said, his voice teasing and low. His gaze swept over Draco’s still-ruffled hair, his hot cheeks, and his askew collar.
“Uh, sorry?”
“No, I like it,” Harry said. “Sorry for interrupting; I was asking everywhere for you, but no one knew where to find you, and only Greg was able to tell me where you were …”
Fucking Goyle—Draco was half-tempted to strangle him. He looked over Harry’s shoulder at the common room, seeing Greg smiling and grinning at him. Draco had clearly said to his friends that he was not to be disturbed under any circumstances, but apparently Goyle’s slow mind thought that didn’t apply to Harry Potter.
Draco took a deep breath.
“No—it’s fine,” he managed to say, even though his fingers tightened around the doorknob.
“I was wondering if you could help me with my Potions homework,” Harry said coaxingly, and using a smile that he must have known caused Draco’s knees to melt. “I’m finding it really difficult, and I could really benefit from someone as knowledgeable as yourself.”
Draco couldn’t quite keep back a smug expression. “Come crawling for help, Potter?”
“Sod off,” Harry replied, but they were both grinning.
“Fine,” Draco said airily, tucking back a lock of his hair. “After dinner, maybe?”
“Can’t wait,” Harry said, and Draco nearly had a heart attack as Harry winked.
Then Harry turned away from the doorframe, lifting his fingers in a wave.
Draco nodded and waited until Harry had made his way down the corridor, before he hurriedly closed the door, his breath escaping him in a rush.
Made it.
But then, he felt hands on his shoulders, and Ron was turning him around, pressing him against the door.
“Merlin, that was close,” Ron whispered, and Draco found himself reaching to pull Ron against him. “Yeah.”
And then Ron was pressing little kisses against Draco’s jaw, hips pressing against his. Draco couldn’t hold back a groan as Ron’s fingers dropped to the hem of Draco’s shirt.
“So why don’t we get back to what we were doing?” Ron whispered wickedly, and Draco could only nod in response.
They kissed again more and more eagerly, and didn’t even make it back to the bed.
Helping Harry with his Potions homework was always a challenge.
No, not the Potions part—after all, Draco was a pro.
But the Teaching part.
Or, the Potter part.
Because Harry thought it was completely appropriate for them to share the same book, their thighs brushing as they leaned in together.
And okay, Harry was a Gryffindor, but that was so blatant, it made Draco flush.
“… and so,” Draco continued, his grip on the textbook growing tighter and tighter, “if you look at the way that boomslang skin is prepared, that is what makes its properties change in potion-making.”
“Oh, right!” Harry said, looking at Draco with gorgeous green eyes. “So if it was pickled, it might have a different action, compared to being shredded for Polyjuice Potion?”
Draco found himself grinning excitedly. “Exactly!”
“And with…” Harry leaned in closer, his finger trailing over the cramped words of the text, the light of the sconces flickering beautifully on tanned skin, “mistletoe…” his eyes darted over to Draco, “… there are different uses for different parts of the plant, correct?”
Fuck.
Draco tried to scowl at him as Harry batted his eyes innocently.
“Yes,” Draco said shortly, though he couldn’t help crack into a smile. “But the berries are poisonous, so don’t try and do anything romantic.”
“Hmmm, that must be the Nargles,” Harry said thoughtfully.
“Excuse me?”
Harry nudged his leg again under the table. “Don’t worry, if we get trapped under mistletoe, I’ll protect you.”
“Idiot,” Draco said, but he knew there was a fondness in his voice.
“Guess I’ll need loads more lessons,” Harry said, looking at him softly.
Draco couldn’t help the way his eyes dropped to Harry’s lips.
But before they could do anything as idiotic as kiss in public, the door to the common room swung open, and they hurriedly shifted in their chairs.
Pansy entered, and behind her was... Longbottom.
They were talking together, and Pansy was smiling. Draco had to blink to check because smirking he was used to—but it was rare to see her actually smiling.
“Did you see that?” Draco whispered curiously to Harry, motioning to the pair.
Harry nodded knowingly. “Well, looks like Gryffindor and Slytherin unity is growing. And I for one definitely support it.”
Then Draco was smiling at Harry again, and their hands found each other’s under the table.
He definitely supported it too.
When they were packing up that night, Harry turned to him. “Hey, I know Ron and I had to go to Hogsmeade this weekend but… how about next weekend? You and me?”
“What, like a date, Potter?” Draco said teasingly, loving how Harry blushed.
“Yes, like a date, Draco,” Harry said.
“I’d love to,” Draco answered, lifting up his bag.
Harry picked up his own bag and stepped closer. “Want to come stay with me tonight?”
Draco bit his lip. “You know I would but… your roommates?”
Harry shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. No one was in there when I changed earlier, and they still haven’t come back.”
“Well… alright then,” Draco found himself agreeing, a smile spreading across his face.
They stopped off at Draco’s room first, then headed to Harry’s, slipping quickly inside the room with a giggle. Harry pulled Draco through the room and over to his bed, guiding him through the hangings. When they were both inside, Harry drawing the hanging closed with a snick, Draco finally let out a breath, and they burst into laughter. They cuddled up together, Draco curling an arm around Harry’s waist, and shared a kiss before lying down—and Draco remembered thinking to himself if only things could always have been like this… feeling safe in Harry’s arms, secure, and oh so happy.
When Draco woke up, it was to the realisation that he’d forgotten his sleeping mask back in his dorm room.
Oops.
Muted light filtered through the Gryffindor-red hangings, just when Draco did not need it. Draco groaned and tried to bury his head deeper in Harry’s chest. Harry shifted, wrapping an arm around Draco’s waist, and okay, that was nice, letting Draco curl up to him even more.
“Hey, are you awake?” Harry whispered, his voice deliciously rough from sleep.
“No, Potter,” Draco said back, his eyes fluttering closed again.
Harry laughed fondly—and Draco couldn’t help his cheek crinkling into a grin as he felt the soft vibration through Harry’s chest. Draco tightened his arm around Harry and snuggled closer, letting out a satisfied sigh.
“How long until we have to get up?” Draco murmured, eyes still closed.
“Dunno,” Harry said. Then he shifted under Draco. “I’ll have to—”
“No, don’t,” Draco interrupted, his arm tightening further in warning.
Harry let out another laugh, and oh, it was glorious. Draco loved the sound of it.
“Fine,” Harry acknowledged. “Just stay with me a little longer.”
Draco nodded against his chest. They stayed wrapped around each other in the quiet morning in a cocoon of happiness, trying to avoid laughing together as Harry’s roommates started getting up and they heard the low murmur of voices and rustling of hangings as people got out of bed. When finally all the roommates were gone, Harry gently traced Draco’s jaw with a finger and tilted Draco’s chin up for a kiss. They slipped out of bed to get ready for the day, promising to meet up for a date in Hogsmeade the next weekend at ten o’clock, and Draco winked at him before he slipped out the door.
Draco let out a breath, leaning against Harry (and Ron’s) door.
He couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he thought back to Harry waking sleepily and pulling him close.
Could he be more adorable?
But Draco decided he’d better leave before could be caught loitering around Harry’s room—otherwise he was just inviting trouble. So he quickly made his way down the corridor, blending in with the other students on the way to breakfast, even if he couldn’t stop a foolish smile whenever he thought about Harry. Ah, Harry. Draco had always known that Harry was going to be trouble, right from when they first met. Little did he know what sort of trouble he’d be getting into!
Draco had to focus on his classes after that.
After all, he had to keep up with his schoolwork. It wouldn’t do at all for his grades to slip and for Father to take an interest in just what Draco was getting up to at Hogwarts.
Merlin, that would be a nightmare.
He looked forward, though, to their planned Quidditch practice that afternoon, and the thought of seeing both Harry and Ron made it difficult for him to keep back a little secret smile.
“What are you so happy about?” Pansy asked, smirking as she put down her goblet at lunch. “Is this about how you didn’t quite manage to make it back to your own bed last night?”
What? Merlin.
“I—what do you know about that, anyway?” Draco said, his face turning pink.
Pansy’s eyes sparkled with pleasure. “Oh, just something that Blaise, your roommate, happened to mention.”
Draco took a deep breath, covering his face in his hands. “Salazar.”
“Somehow,” Pansy added, her smirk widening, “I don’t think that was the House you were calling last night.”
Draco tried to glare at her, but Pansy kept talking.
“… you were probably looking gorgeous among red sheets, blond locks dishevelled, toes curling as you cried out in bliss, praising the very name of Godric Gryffindor and their very attentive lovers.”
“I—no.”
Pansy merely raised a brow.
“We didn’t have sex last night,” Draco hissed, his face heating. “We were just cuddling!”
Fuck, that sounded worse than if he’d just been casually hooking up.
“I mean,” Draco added quickly, though his face was still very red, “we’ve hooked up loads! And Harry’s great in bed—”
“Aha!” Pansy cried, victorious. “So it was Harry!”
Fuck.
Draco was helpless to watch as Pansy’s eagle-gaze fell on the Gryffindor table, where said Gryffindor was sitting. Harry looked joyful, green eyes sparkling as he talked animatedly with Finnegan and running a hand through disastrously tousled hair, and Merlin, Draco couldn’t help just propping his chin on his hand and drinking in the sight.
“Looks like someone slipped him a vial of Elixir to Induce Euphoria, hmm?” Pansy whispered slyly. “Are you sure there was no tumbling between the sheets? Maybe a little hot and heavy petting, or mutually satisfying hand-jobs, or lovemaking ending in a delightful Gryffindor-gasm as you clutched at him, legs tangled together?”
“Pansy!”
Salazar, it was like she enjoyed running the risk of someone ‘accidentally’ over-hearing.
Draco looked furtively down the table, but fortunately no-one seemed to have caught anything about the scandalous details of Draco’s sex life. Thank Merlin. He did not need anyone knowing about his er, Gryffindor-gasms, or how pleasurable they were.
“Shut up, Pansy, Merlin, before someone hears,” Draco shushed her. “Besides, what do you know about, uh, those?” Draco asked. His eyes darted once more around the table, but thank Circe no one was watching them. “Wait…” Draco trailed off, levelling a glance at Pansy. “Does this mean you and Longbottom...?”
“Not yet,” Pansy said, blushing. “But soon, maybe.”
Draco turned to her with a rakish smile. “Parkinson, you sly vixen. Falling for a Gryffindor?”
“Well…” Pansy said, a thoughtful grin spreading on her face. “Can you blame me?”
“No,” Draco admitted with a laugh.
Draco could not blame her at all.
Quidditch that afternoon was like a dream.
Draco got to fly his Nimbus 2001, soaring through the air and intercepting the red Quaffle, the breeze in his hair and warm sunlight on his skin, and to dart around the other players refining his excellent goal-scoring.
And the fact that he got to watch Harry and Ron at the same time? Glorious.
When Draco had seen Ron step out onto the field, tall and strong, and with those new gloves, he’d had to clutch his broom extra tight. Draco’s legs had suddenly felt wobbly and he’d held onto his Nimbus 2001 as he stared at his boyfriend, who grinned at him happily.
Ron looked extra pleased with himself.
He winked at Draco before pushing off into the sky, sunlight glinting off the scarlet of his hair, looking so freckly and wonderful that Draco’s heart ached.
And then Harry had appeared, grinning at Draco and looking particularly gorgeous, and it was difficult not to admire his broad chest, strong thighs, and lovely kissable lips.
Fuck, it was so much better than Draco’s Slytherin teammates, who, let’s be honest, were nowhere near as easy on the eye.
When Draco managed to get in the air, he noticed that Pansy had also taken a seat in the stands, and he held back a giggle. Sure, she cheered Draco’s name and was obviously pretending to be supporting him, but Draco could tell just where her eyes were most of the time—and it was on a certain brave, Herbology-loving Gryffindor as he flew up and down the pitch, brows narrowed in intense concentration.
All in all, it was a fantastic practice—they were flying together better than ever, and when Draco trudged back to the locker room, exhausted but happy, he grinned at Ron and promised that yes, he definitely still was Draco’s King.
Ron hung back as the other players changed, Harry leaving with Longbottom for an extra tutoring session in Defence Against the Dark Arts (and Harry looked so cute too, all serious and scholarly), and Goldstein and Boot chatting with Millie about the best breeds of cats vs kneazles.
“So,” Draco said, once they were alone, and he could walk closer and hook his finger in Ron’s belt, “congratulations are in order, then, for your excellent Keeper skills. You were pretty unstoppable today.”
Draco gave him a sexy smirk, and Ron’s arms slid around him.
“Oh, I’d let you in, no doubt,” Ron said, his voice a delicious purr.
And that was just too much—no one could blame Draco for pushing Ron against the wall and kissing him hungrily, pressing their hips together.
Ron pulled him closer, and Draco grinned as they kissed again, his hands eagerly slipping under Ron’s shirt and eyelashes fluttering shut as Ron let out a moan.
They did not return again to the Eighth-year common room again until much, much later.
Things continued like that during the week—Draco busy between lessons, Harry, and Ron. Draco and Harry spent some time in the library together doing their language study, Harry absolutely ruining the French language (Draco would have to hide if they ever went to Paris together). And Draco and Ron ended up daringly sneaking away to Ron’s dorm room on Friday afternoon during their free period, playing a game of Wizarding Chess with the winner of any chess pieces scoring a kiss (this escalated into Ron sweeping the board free of any pieces at all and laying Draco down on his bed, pressing kisses down his body). They ended up shagging and Draco thought that if a game of Chess got Ron that riled up, they would definitely have to keep to having their games in private—and what a fantastic thought that was.
The bell for their final lessons rang just as Draco was doing up his shirt again.
Fuck.
His eyes flashed over to Ron, who was in a similar state of undress.
But the half-naked look was very good on Ron, his Gryffindor tie slung sexily around his neck, and a love-bite still visible beneath the undone collar.
Mmmmm. Draco nearly growled, and he had to stop himself jumping Ron again.
Then, they were just kissing each other good-bye before leaving—Draco to Ancient Runes, Ron to Transfiguration—when Ron cleared his throat.
“So, there’s a Hogsmeade weekend coming up,” Ron said quickly, as the sound of students thundering through the corridor reached them. “I want to go back to the new Quidditch shop that’s opened and I know you were interested too, so, what do you think? Fancy meeting up and going together? Say, ten o’clock?”
Draco was all ready to smile and nod, when—
Wait… that was when he was meeting Harry!
“Sorry Ron I’m, uh, busy then.”
Ron groaned. “Urrrgh. Harry’s busy too!”
Draco swallowed. “Um…” Quick, Draco, think! “Maybe you could go with Granger?”
Ron gave him a cute pout. “To a Quidditch shop? No. She does not understand Quidditch. Besides, that’s not quite what I had in mind—you know, for the Hogsmeade weekend.”
“We’ll do something soon,” Draco promised, and a smile blossomed on Ron’s face. “Oh!” Draco added, thinking back to something Pansy had told him. “Maybe I could meet you at Hogsmeade later—at one of the new restaurants that’s opened? Oneiros Olympos(Olympus Dream)? You could always dazzle me with your Greek.”
“And I will,” Ron said, pulling Draco closer. “It’s a date.”
Draco couldn’t stop himself from giving Ron one last kiss. “It’s a date.”
Ron squeezed his hand quickly, before dashing out of the room, his tie still half-undone and fluttering as he ran.
Draco grinned to himself, before he hurried off to his final lesson, too.
Salazar, he could not wait for their date to arrive.
The day before the big Hogsmeade visit, Draco set himself up at a desk in the common room with his stacks of homework.
At least he wasn’t getting any knowing looks from Blaise, since Draco had slept in his own bed. But he still had to slog through hours of intense magical theory and fifty-year-old textbooks with tiny print. After all, having two dates tomorrow wasn’t going to leave him much time to put off doing any work.
As Draco shoved aside his Ancient Runes, and pulled his Charms homework in front of him, he pushed his hair off his forehead.
If only, he thought to himself, he could spend romantic time with Harry and Ron, together.
But then he flushed, imagining it.
Going out on a date, eating pasta with Harry and Ron at a small table, the three of them laughing and giggling together.
Slipping back into the castle, sliding his arms around Harry’s neck and drawing him in for a kiss, only for Ron to press behind him, his hands firm around Draco’s hips, dropping kisses against Draco’s neck.
Harry and Ron, kissing together in their dorm room as Draco watched, becoming more and more turned on until he joined them…
Fuck.
Draco made himself take a deep breath.
Okay, he really was a horny little deviant.
But before Draco could spiral further—and think that his father had better not find out about this—Pansy slipped into the seat next to him.
“So apparently there’s a messy-haired Gryffindor who’s really excited about a Hogsmeade date tomorrow, is that right?” she asked cheekily.
Draco couldn’t help smiling. “Where did you hear that?”
“From Neville,” Pansy said immediately, her eyes sparkling.
“Neville, is it?” Draco asked.
Pansy grinned at him. “Well, it wouldn’t do for me to call my boyfriend by just his surname, would it?”
“Pansy! Ah, that’s great!” Draco found himself exclaiming. “I’m so happy for you.”
Although… the surnames thing. Maybe Draco was the only one who found that could be a massive turn on…
But honestly, could anyone blame him?
Draco cleared his throat. “Anyway, yes, that’s true—I’m meeting Harry in the morning. I would have told you but it happened when I was, er, spending the night with Harry…”
“Don’t worry yourself,” Pansy said with a giggle. “Just make sure you look gorgeous for your date. And don’t say I said anything. Neville doesn’t know who Harry’s date is, just that Harry’s excited.”
“Ah, I’m excited too,” Draco confessed. “But I won’t be able to go unless I get this work done, so… chat later?”
Pansy nodded before standing up again. “I’ll let you work, I’m going to see Neville anyway. See you tomorrow after your date, Draco. Or… not.”
And then she winked, leaving Draco in the common room behind her.
On Sunday, Draco waved good-bye to Ron (who had grumblingly decided to work on his imminently-due Charms homework), before meeting up with Harry.
He and Harry had a lovely day, snowflakes falling as they walked into Hogsmeade together, using the cold as a reason to check the others’ hands were warm enough, and sitting down together at a quiet table in the Three Broomsticks, nudging each other’s feet covertly under the table.
They started discussing their homework that was still due, and Draco mentioned that Ron was working on his Charms homework.
That caused Harry to let out a groan. “Oooh, darn, I have to finish that too!”
“Maybe if you didn’t just shove it into the deepest corner of your bag,” Draco couldn’t help adding, “you’d remember to do it earlier and not end up like this.”
Harry glared at him, but he looked so cute that Draco couldn’t help a laugh escaping.
Harry looked affronted at that, but then he broke off into a grin. “Ah, alright. I s’pose you’re right.”
Draco couldn’t help very smugly sipping his oak mead, although then his mind started drifting to Ron. Probably at that moment, he was holed up in the library, long legs crammed under the table, running a hand through his hair as he scrawled his essay, a cute frown on his face like when he was determined to focus.
Draco really missed him.
Then, Draco felt Harry take his hand, and he blinked looking up into Harry’s green eyes.
“Sorry,” Draco said quickly. “I just—do you think he’s going to beg for help when we get back?”
“He’ll probably ask Hermione,” Harry said with a laugh. “I think they’re back at a friendly stage. I never really got why they broke up, you know.”
Draco raised a curious eyebrow.
“I mean—Ron’s great,” Harry continued, “He’s so tall, and generous, and such a great guy. Someone who will face his fears for you, and he’s handsome, and… man. Sometimes I… well…” Harry looked down quickly. “I wondered if I went after the wrong Weasley.”
Draco felt frozen in his seat. Harry felt something for Ron, just like him???
“So,” Draco said, very casually. “You think Ron’s fit, do you?”
Harry let out a small laugh. “Fuck, have you seen him?”
Draco also joined in laughing. “You’re right, there.”
“And,” Harry leaned in, the words coming faster and faster, “he told me, even when Ginny and I broke up, that he understood. That sometimes you just can’t force something. And that he wanted me to be happy. And he’s one of the first people to show me what it was like to be truly happy. But he’s my oldest friend. I… I could never mess that up.”
“But what if…”
Harry frowned. “If what?”
“If he felt the same way?” Draco said quickly. He leaned in, elbows on the table and hands splayed next to his drink in a horrible breach of etiquette that would have his father seething if he knew. “I know you said you never told him you were gay, but…” Draco tilted his head, watching as Harry’s green eyes grew even darker and more entrancing. “What is all that talk about Gryffindor being the house of the daring and bold for if you don’t do something about it?”
“I suppose I’ll have to take lessons from you,” Harry said, an adorable smile on his face. “You’re becoming braver and braver.”
Draco hurriedly took another sip of his drink, his cheeks burning.
Oh, Draco could be very brave or very daring, if the situation called for it.
And as they walked around Hogsmeade later, Draco couldn’t help sneaking peeks at Harry, wondering if he could inspire Harry to be brave.
“So Draco, it’s good to see you,” Ron said, as they slipped into their seats at Oneiros Olympos.
Draco found himself smiling at Ron, and surprisingly ignoring the gorgeous vista to his left of the dramatic drop to the ocean and sparkling waves. “It’s good to see you too.”
“I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” Ron said, a blush colouring his cheeks.
Okay, could he get any cuter?
The two of them opened their menus, and Draco used the opportunity to sneak another glance at Ron. Ron had laid his menu flat, murmuring to himself as his finger trailed down the page. Draco couldn’t help but watch Ron’s lips sound out the various words, looking so wonderful and kissable in ‘Haloumi’,‘Kolokithakia’, and ‘Tiropita’ (Haloumi’, ‘fried zucchini’ and ‘cheese pie’).
Draco really wanted to be able to kiss Ron in public.
They decided to get some share plates, and Draco got to watch Ron blushingly give their order to the waiter. Even though there were a few pauses, and adorable crinkled eyebrows, their server beamed when Ron pronounced each word, and promised to bring them some ouzo, on the house.
“Congratulations and well done, Ron,” Draco said, holding up his glass.
Ron beamed, clinking their glasses together in a toast.
As they waited, Ron told Draco all about the Charms work he’d been doing, and they ended up laughing together as Ron told him about how Neville had banned him from practicing in the common room, due to the difficulty he had controlling the strength of the sunlight charm Lumos Solem, and that it interfered with the ‘perfect set up for his Mimbulus Mimbletonia’.
“Oh, Harry’s probably facing the same problem, since he was going to work on his Charms homework,” Draco said fondly.
“Oh? When did you see Harry?” Ron asked, taking a sip of water.
“Uh, earlier today in Hogsmeade,” Draco said quickly.
Ron’s brows drew together. “Was… was he on a date?”
“A date?” Uh oh. Draco hoped that he was not as flustered as he felt. He cleared his throat. “Why?”
“Just… just curious,” Ron said. Then Ron hurriedly drank down his glass of water.
Interesting.
Draco leaned in closer. “Did you guys ever date?” he asked in a low voice.
“Me? And Harry?” Ron said quickly. “No. I mean, he’s straight.”
“Are you sure?” Draco asked, putting down his own glass.
“Am I sure?” Ron repeated.
“That he’s straight.”
Ron paused as their server brought over a Greek salad, his face as red as the gorgeous tomatoes on the dish. Ron let out a breath. “Okay, look. I’ve thought about it, but he’s always been interested in… you know… other people. Especially popular, pretty girls. And look at me—poor and left with all the hand-me-downs. It’s not like I would be much competition… even if he was interested.”
Draco frowned. “Ron, don’t sell yourself short. You’re a hero. And a King of Quidditch, which if I recall correctly, is his favourite sport. Plus, you’re definitely easy on the eyes.”
Ron smiled at this, and Draco’s heart melted. Fuck, he was so sweet. And so was Harry. But could they really not see what was right in front of them?
Maybe a little sneaky plan was what was needed, for them all get what they wanted. Win, win, and win.
The rest of their food arrived, and they paused to eat from the delicious dishes and admire the gorgeous view that felt like they’d been transported to the amazing cliffs of Fira. (Fira - the capital of Santorini!)
And then Draco got an idea.
“Say, Ron,” Draco said, nonchalantly. “Does Harry enjoy Greek food, do you know?”
“I’m not sure if he’s eaten any,” Ron answered. “But he definitely should. These zucchinis are amazing.”
“Maybe we should bring some back for him, then,” Draco suggested. “We could surprise him—as a little treat.”
Ron brightened. “Great idea. I’m sure he’d love it.”
They ordered a second helping of the zucchini, and some pita and tzatziki, and soon were on their way back to the castle.
And on the way, Draco crossed his fingers that Harry would also have been sent to the dorm room to practice his Charm homework just like Ron had been, for Draco’s plan to work.
Harry had indeed been banished to his (and the other Gryffindors’) dorm room.
When Ron and Draco knocked on the door, Harry answered, looking sheepish.
“Oh, hey, guys,” Harry said, his face breaking into a grin. “Sorry, thought you might have been Neville—he said he would keep an eye out for if too much light still came from underneath the door. This sunlight charm needs to be so precise.”
“Maybe taking a break would help,” Draco said, running a hand through his hair.
“Yeah, we brought you some food,” Ron said, holding up the bag. “Turns out there’s a fabulous new Greek restaurant in Hogsmeade, and it’ll feel like you’re dining on ambrosia.”
Harry grinned. “Fine. You’ve convinced me.”
Draco joined Harry on the bed, pulling the Oneiros Olympos bag over. “Okay, so we’ve got zucchini, dip, pita bread… you have to try some of the tzatziki, it’s… what did you call it, Ron?”
“Transformative.”
“Yeah? Give me a taste,” Harry said.
Draco grinned. “Yeah go on, Ron. Give him a taste.”
Ron hesitated, before he took out a piece of the pita bread and scooped a portion of the delicious yoghurt dip. Then he sat down on the bed and held it out to Harry.
And then Harry reached for the bread, his hand brushing Ron’s.
Ron and Harry both turned a deep red, and Draco held his breath as Harry lifted the pita bread to take a bite. Harry’s eyes fluttered closed and he let out a moan, followed by, “Oh, that’s so good.”
Ron’s eyes darted over to Draco, and Draco grinned.
“What are you doing?” Ron whispered to Draco.
Draco blinked back at him innocently. “I just thought that Harry should try something, even if he hadn’t had it before.”
“Are you…” Ron broke off, flushing even deeper as Harry looked at him questioning. “Are you sure?”
Draco merely grinned. “I can be quite good at sharing, I think you’ll find.”
“Sharing…?” Ron looked between Draco and Harry.
And Draco definitely noticed how Ron’s gaze fell to Harry’s full lips.
“Sharing?” Harry repeated curiously. “You? Are we talking about the same Draco Malfoy?”
Draco lay back against Harry’s bed. “Oh, yes. So, Harry…” Draco held Harry’s gaze, remembering their earlier conversation about Ron, and trying to convey that he definitely was okay with this, “is there anything else you’d like to try?”
Harry’s green eyes flickered ever so quickly over to Ron, before returning to Draco. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, then he said, “Fuck, yes.”
Draco was unable to stop the smirk spreading on his lips as he gave a small nod.
Then Harry looked back to Ron and shifted ever so slightly closer. Draco watched for a few spell-binding seconds as neither of them moved, tension in the air and anticipation coiling in his stomach as the two boys watched each other, before Harry said, “Fuck this.” And then he slid his hand into Ron’s hair, bringing him in for a kiss.
Now, Draco already knew Harry was an excellent kisser—he’d been on the receiving end plenty of times, thank you—but he did not know it was going to be just as arousing to watch Harry kiss Ron; how Ron would melt at his touch, a flush on his cheeks as he parted his lips for Harry’s tongue, how Harry would let out a pleased groan, cradling Ron’s jaw in his hand, how they’d stare into each other’s eyes when they drew back, looking at each other in secret wonder, shy smiles growing on their faces.
“That…” Ron ducked his head, or rather—he tried, but Harry wouldn’t let him, tilting his head up for another kiss, causing Ron’s face to grow an even deeper red as they kissed again in front of Draco.
“Was so hot, Merlin, what have you been holding back for?” Draco said, causing both Ron and Harry to look across at him.
“I… I don’t know,” Harry admitted, looking quickly across at Ron again. “Fuck, Ron, you’re… you’re so gorgeous, and if I had known you were interested in blokes, I would have been doing that a lot sooner.”
Harry’s fingers laced through Ron’s, and they both grinned at each other.
Draco had a split second to feel worried.
Harry and Ron had been friends with each other first.
They’d been pining for each other.
Now Harry and Ron finally knew how they felt.
So… where would that leave him?
But then Harry shifted onto his hands and knees, stealthily making his way over to Draco. “Don’t think you’re free of us.”
Then he knelt to kiss Draco, a soft brush of lips that turned into the swipe of tongue, and Draco moaned as Harry cupped his jaw.
Harry drew back, and then Draco could only watch as Harry motioned Ron forward, tilting his head toward Draco. And then Ron was kissing him, and Draco knew he was blushing as Harry let out a whoop behind them.
But oh, was it worth it.
And when they went out into the common room together later, much later, after Harry and Ron attacked him with pillows once he’d fessed up to dating them both, and then lots more kissing and cheering Harry on with the Lumos Solem Charm, Draco couldn’t help the little thrill of happiness he felt as they sprawled together on the couch in a cosy tangle.
He knew that Eighth year was going to be the best one, by far.
FIN