Work Text:
The halls always looked ominous at night. The nooks and crannies filled with bad memories which Draco tried to push away by walking faster, willing his mind to stop picturing the despair he’d left Hogwarts in. It wasn’t on his to-do-list to take up his Prefect’s duties again, he had tried to step down when he came back, but one stern look from McGonagall and some whispered words about responsibilities and proving himself, there wasn’t much of a choice in the matter. Ever since Potter had spoken on his behalf at the trial, people had started to believe he could change. It was exhausting. Nowadays, after several months and a Christmas break, people started to ignore him more than openly hating him. Small mercies, he supposed. It didn’t matter in the long run, one more term and then he could start over somewhere new, somewhere warm, he thought as the chilly hall made him shiver.
The first term had been a weird experience: Hogwarts had never been that quiet and sombre, but as it happens with most grieving, time made the halls vibrant again. Even Potter smiled at him from time to time. One of these days, he swore that he would smile back. If he only relearned how.
Draco rounded another corner when the sound of giggling reached him. He frowned. It wasn't often that students strayed from their dormitories. McGonagall had a strict policy that most of them followed to a tee. Usually the only student he met during nights was Potter, but Draco supposed he had his own set of rules since coming back. He never made any fuss about being found either. He just smiled and followed Draco around until he was finished with his patrol, and then they parted ways in the eighth years’ living quarters. It was a strange thing to look forward to, walking around quietly in the dark with Potter, but it truly was the highlight of his week.
The giggling got louder as Draco approached one of the broom closets. It certainly wasn’t Potter's voice. First of all, through no fault of his own, he pathetically had it memorised, and second of all, it sounded more girl-like ,and definitely younger. The door was closed, but as he leaned up against it, he could hear almost every word of it. He supposed he could let them be if they weren’t doing anything harmful.
“... the eyes though, they have something,” one of them said.
“How can you look at the eyes when there’s… you know… a pen–” The giggling cut out the last word but Draco had a suspicion of what it was.
“Yeah, fine. Turn the page now. Rachel said there was a Saviour special on page thirtyfour.”
“Seriously? Is it him for real?”
“Let’s find out.”
Draco heard the frantic shuffling of pages and the silence that followed almost made him jank up the door.
“Oh…”
“Yeah, oh.”
“Are they supposed to look like that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is it supposed to point to the right? I always thought the saviour would be more… straightforward.”
The giggling turned to laughter so loud that Draco took it as his cue. He opened the door, “Okay, girls. That’s enough ogling from you two. Back to your dorms.”
Two wide-eyed Hufflepuffs stared at him, trying to hide whatever they were looking at behind their backs.
“Mrs Clint, I’ll take that, please.” Draco held out his hand, beckoning Sally Clint to give him the magazine, her breath held. As soon as his fist closed around it the two girls were running down the corridors, probably waking everyone up with their thundering footsteps.
Well, as far as mischief goes this was kind of harmless, Draco thought as he looked at the cover. The title Wands up was written in sparkly letters, and a man with a bare torso on the cover page winked at him as he slowly opened the first button of his trousers. Draco’s face got warmer, and he looked around to see that he was truly left alone. It wouldn’t hurt to just look through it, right? He’d never really looked in an adult magazine before. They weren’t allowed in the Manor, of course, so the only experience he’d had with them was from Crabbe and Goyle, but they only had magazines with girls in them and that didn’t do anything for Draco.
He slowly looked through the pages of half naked men, each one more handsome than the other. He could feel his pulse quicken as he neared page 34, not knowing what he should expect. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined Potter naked before, and the anticipation of finding out what he looked like, if it indeed was Potter, almost made his heart beat out of his chest. He took a deep breath before he turned the page, and for a second he really thought he was staring at a butt naked Harry Potter all over the centrefold. The man in question let a hand run through his hair, as the other one caressed his stomach, slowly inching forward to a quite impressive erection. The hair colour was one shade wrong though and Potter had much larger hands than this poor copy. Still, it was a mesmerising sight, and Draco’s mind started to play out fantasies of its own. That must’ve been one of the reasons he didn’t react fast enough when a cold breeze of air surrounded him and a rude voice started singing out in the corridor.
Dirty dirty Malfoy boy, from the filth you get your joy
Not a lady here in sight, I bet your daddy will get a fright
When he hears about the truth, that his boy is a silly poof
“Oh sod off, Peeves!” Draco raised his voice. “The last one didn’t even rhyme, you tosser.”
Peeves circled around him laughing, trying to get a peek at the magazine while Draco tried to hide it behind his back, just like the girls had earlier. Merlin, this was so beneath him.
“The Baron is coming!” someone shouted from the far end of the corridor, and by “someone” it was most certainly the unmistakable voice of Potter.
Peeves let out a shriek as he fled, still laughing and singing his song about Draco while Draco, in a fit of panic, threw the magazine as far as he could. Unfortunately, in his haste, instead of throwing it away from Potter it ended up right in front of his approaching feet.
For a moment it was like the world had stopped. They both stood still while a half naked wizard, looking awfully like Potter, winked at them from the floor. The sound of Peeves' voice echoed through the halls.
“Is that supposed to be me?”
Potter's loud voice startled Draco from his frozen position. In a quick attempt, he tried to pick up the offending object from the floor, but Potter Summoned it with a flick of his hand without even having to use his wand. He turned the paper sideways to get a better look at the Potter look-alike.
Draco cleared his throat. “The headline says, ‘The saviour shows it all’.”
Potter chuckled. “I’ll say. I suppose it looks quite like me in some aspects.”
“False advertising if you ask me,” Draco blurted out. Why? Why would he say that? “The hair colour is wrong.” Stop talking. “And your hands are bigger”. Crap.
Potter looked at him, a small smile gracing his face. “Have you been watching my hands?”
No. “Yes. I mean no. I mean they’re nice hands. No, I meant the model has nice hands.” Draco was sweating. The chance of saving his face had flown out the window as soon as Potter had entered the equation.
“You know,” Potter said while taking a couple of steps closer to Draco, “I could show you some other stuff the magazine got wrong. If you’d like?”
Draco swallowed. He didn’t really know what was happening right now.
“That is, if you don’t like the model better, of course?” Potter was standing centimetres from Draco now, and Draco could almost feel his breath against his face.
From a source unknown, Draco got a burst of courage and closed the remaining space between the two of them. “He doesn’t have your lips,” he whispered.
Potter let out a breathless laugh before he gently pressed his lips against Draco’s in a soft kiss.
Maybe Draco didn’t have to move country, it was getting warmer in the castle by the second.