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Harry still enjoyed walking around under his invisibility cloak as a professor. Not because he wanted to spy on anyone or get away with anything sneaky (most of the time) but because it allowed him to get from point a to point b with fewer obstacles.
Normally, he only casually listened to the students he was wandering past. His ears were tuned for ‘red flags’ but everything else was just sort of background noise.
Not so today.
He was almost back to his classroom, munching on an apple to tide him over until lunch, when he heard his name mentioned.
And Harry was good at ignoring a lot of things, but he was decidedly not good at ignoring things that were said about him by his students. He stepped to the side and listened.
“Right,” Matilda said, “But come on. You have to admit that they make sense together.”
“Sure,” Reid replied, rolling his eyes, “In the way that matches and kerosene make sense together.”
“Explosively hot,” Gwen chimed in. “Yeah.”
Reid rolled his eyes at her.
“What would their name even be?” Jack wondered aloud and Harry wondered if he’d misheard and they hadn’t mentioned his name at all. “Potfoy?”
“Malter?” Ruby giggled.
“Maybe try their first names,” Matilda postulated.
“Harco,” Reid offered.
“Doesn’t the order imply positions,” Ruby asked.
Jack nodded, “So which do you think-”
“Drarry,” Reid said. “Or-”
And quite suddenly Harry realized exactly what they were talking about and thought that he might be having a heart attack. His palms immediately started sweating, heart beating loudly in his ears.
He did the only thing that he could think to do. He took off at a sprint toward the dungeons, doing his best to avoid students as he raced away.
When he was just outside of the potions classroom, he looked about and then whipped off his cloak (Draco hated it when he came in wearing the cloak) before bursting into the room. “Dra-” he started before realizing the other man was in the middle of a lesson with the third years. “Malfoy,” he corrected, clearing his throat. “Err. Professor Malfoy.”
“Eloquent as ever, Professor Potter,” he replied with a raised eyebrow.
“Sorry,” he said, nodding to the third years, “terribly sorry to interrupt your lesson. Could I speak to you for a moment? In the hallway?”
Draco looked at him like he’d lost his mind, “Continue working on your Confusing Concoction. I’ll be right back.” Harry turned and Draco followed, “And Miss. Merryweather if I hear so much as a peep from you to Mr. Coriander I’ll be docking house points.”
“Yes, professor,” Alice mumbled.
Once they were outside, Harry closed the door and looked around the hallway. “They’re shipping us!” he hissed.
“Pardon?”
“The kids!” he exclaimed. “I overheard them. They’re smashing our names together!”
“Okay?” Draco said. “Sorry, I’m not seeing why you felt the need to interrupt my class to tell me that.”
“Because they think we’re seeing each other!”
“And?” he asked, frustration rising in his voice.
“And,” he hissed, “We are seeing each other!”
Draco shook his head, “Potter, I fail to see what the problem here is.”
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, “We are seeing each other and people think that we’re seeing each other.”
“Merlin. I am sleeping with a complete idiot. It’s like you’re saying the earth revolves around the sun and people are saying that the earth revolves around the sun.”
“Right,” Harry said, “But we can’t deny it without lying.”
Draco blinked, “Right,” he said, taking a step back from Harry. He shook his head and the cold, detached mask that Harry loathed fell into place over his face. “Well, I think it’s safe to say that we can tell them they’re wrong now.”
“What?”
“This is me, dumping your arse.”
“What?” he repeated incredulously. “Draco-”
“No, fuck you,” he hissed. “I’m not your dirty little secret.”
“I wasn’t-” Harry tried to protest but Draco was already stalking away.
“Fuck off,” he spat before throwing the door to his classroom open and slamming it behind him.
Harry stood in the hallway for a long moment in stunned silence. He’d definitely just made a mess.
——————
In retrospect, he could understand why what he’d said to Draco could have been hurtful. He could see how Draco could have interpreted Harry’s words the way he had, even if Harry hadn’t meant them that way.
He just wanted to be able to control the narrative. Too much of his life had been spent with someone else reporting all of the details and filling in the gaps. He was sick of it.
Harry tried everything to get Draco to talk to him in the next few days but Draco had always been a stubborn git and there was no getting him away from people long enough to have a conversation. He’d even attempted sending letters to him but Draco took one look at the writing and incendio’d them without actually reading them.
Finally one morning, six days later, when Draco was over talking to Oliver about quidditch at breakfast, Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He stormed over across the Great Hall to the end of the table the other man was sitting at, reached across, and grabbed him by the front of his robes.
Harry pulled him into a short (but passionate) kiss and when he pulled back he said, “I am in love with you, you miserable wanker. And I don’t give a flying fuck who knows.”
The silence that followed was completely deafening for a heartbeat before the entire Great Hall erupted into a flurry of noise and movement.
Draco stared at him, completely speechless, before he pulled him across the table for another kiss. “You are such a drama queen,” he laughed against Harry’s lips.
“I am?!” he protested, leaning back only far enough to be able to make eye contact. “You set my letters on fire! You’ve slammed your door in my face more times that I can count! You-”
“Shut up,” Draco said, kissing him again.
A throat cleared behind them, “Gentlemen,” Minerva said and they jumped apart like children caught doing something naughty. “Do you really think the Great Hall is the most appropriate venue?”
“No,” they chorused.
“Apologies, Headmistress,” Draco said.
“Forgiven,” she said. “But don’t make a habit of it.”
And while they didn’t make a habit of snogging in front of students, from then on they were never afraid to show affection for the other in front of students. They would often be found bickering but holding hands, leaning against one another as they graded papers, leaving little notes and treats in the other’s classroom, and all other manner of small gestures. The things that showed just how proud and in love they were with each other.