Chapter Text
Harry and Malfoy were sitting in Dumbledore’s office, blanching under the brown, or maybe hazel, gaze of Unspeakable Finch. The headmaster himself was perched on a precarious stool in the corner of the room, having offered his seat to the Unspeakable. He looked particularly unbothered and distinctly amused.
“I didn’t know Unspeakables made house calls,” Harry whispered under his breath.
“Be silent for once in your miserable life,” was Malfoy’s hushed response, “I beg of you,”
Unspeakable Finch sighed, rubbing at her temple with a long-fingered hand. She had summoned the two boys to the headmaster’s office not ten minutes ago, and already she was clearly regretting it.
“Mr Potter,” she started, “Mr Malfoy. I presume you know why I am here?”
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with the Muggles writing about Malfoy and I, would it?” Harry tried for a sheepish smile, “’Cause I swear, we had no idea they were doing it until yesterday!”
The Unspeakable pulled out a laptop from her briefcase and set it on the desk in front of her.
“True though that may be, it still happened,” she turned her laptop towards them. “And now you have over two million followers.”
“What?!” the two boys exclaimed in unison, astounded as they leaned forward to look at the YouTube channel the Unspeakable had opened.
Harry was in shock, “I don’t-”
“Never mind that,” Unspeakable Finch waved them off, “My colleagues and I have assessed the situation and determined that, currently, the Statute is safe. Apparently, it is a common occurrence amongst Muggles to write about people being wizards.”
Harry and Malfoy were silent in their seats as she continued.
“What is cause for concern, however, is the sheer amount of your self-proclaimed Minions that seem to be under the impression that Mr Malfoy is part of the British royal family. Now, we are working to manage this. While most Muggles are happy to take this theory at face value, others-”
“I am sorry,” Malfoy looked aghast, “I feel as if we brushed past that far too quickly. Our Minions think I’m what?”
Harry couldn’t hold back his laughter no matter how hard he tried.
“Malfoy?” he snorted, “Royal?”
“Yes, they also believe there is an element of illegitimacy-”
“ILLEGITIMACY?” Malfoy shrieked, his grey eyes huge as he clutched the arms of his chair, “I beg your finest fucking pardon?”
“They think you’re illegitimate!” Harry crowed, hand over his mouth in shock as he promptly lost his shit, “Illegitimate!”
“Mr Potter,” came Professor Dumbledore’s amused voice, “I rather think Mr Malfoy needs a minute to process this information before you begin, ah, teasing him over it.”
Malfoy was pale as a ghost, and Harry swore he could see one of his eyes twitching. Unspeakable Finch looked as if she would rather be anywhere other than there in that moment.
“I’m going to need more than a minute!”
“If I might continue?” the Unspeakable said, giving Harry a sharp look when he opened his mouth again, “As I was trying to say, this conspiracy has prompted some Muggles to look into you both quite deeply. The Department of Ministries has it handled for the moment-”
Harry wasn’t listening anymore. He was far too caught up in the hilarity of the situation. As for Malfoy, well…
Unspeakable Finch took one look at Malfoy’s white face and promptly stopped. Instead of continuing, she simply rolled her eyes, finally losing her composure and stood, returning her laptop to her briefcase.
“I can see that perhaps this conversation might be more effective in letter form,” she said, “Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore, for allowing this visit. I will be getting into contact with Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy as soon as possible.”
She left a slack-jawed Malfoy and a hysterical Harry in the Headmaster’s office without so much as a goodbye.
By the time the letter arrived for them a few days later, Malfoy had finally gotten over the revelation of their Minions’ theories. Despite this, he wasn’t sure whether he should be flattered that they thought he was Muggle royalty or insulted over his assumed illegitimacy. Harry was firmly of the opinion that Malfoy should be offended.
Harry sat with him in the Muggle Studies classroom, reading over the Unspeakable’s instructions about being careful and avoiding drawing attention to the conspiracy lest the Muggles decide to investigate further.
Professor Burbage wasn’t very happy when Harry burst out cackling as he read Unspeakable Finch’s request that Malfoy ask his parents to refrain from barging into her office. Apparently, they’d given the Ministry’s employees the fright of their lives.
Even if he tried, Harry couldn’t have stopped laughing at Malfoy’s horrified face.
~~~
If Draco had any less respect for himself, he would have slumped down and begun banging his head on the table in front of him. As it was, he had a healthy sense of self-respect, so he refrained. Barely.
He was sitting in the library attempting to complete a project in preparation for the next week and was utterly failing. His and Harry’s conversation with Unspeakable Finch had occupied his mind for days. He had tried to pretend that the whole thing hadn’t happened but had been entirely unsuccessful.
“Merlin save me,” Draco muttered desolately, glaring down at his half-finished work, gripping his quill tightly.
“I’m not quite Merlin, but perhaps I can help?”
Draco whipped his head around to see that Granger was standing behind him with a tentative smile, her books clutched to her chest.
“Can you?” he asked dryly, raising an eyebrow.
“Don’t be an arse, Malfoy,” Granger rolled her brown eyes, “I’m not sure if you were ever taught, but there’s such a thing as manners, you know.”
Fighting not to smile, Draco pressed his lips together. Granger’s smirk told him he hadn’t quite managed.
“Are you working on Arithmancy?” she asked, glancing around him to look at his parchment.
“I am attempting to,” Draco said, sighing, “But I have had other matters on my mind, and I rather think it has bested me. I don’t suppose you know how to implement Theon’s Alteration into Ptolemy’s Equant? I think I’m going truly insane trying to figure it out.”
“I don’t,” Granger said, her smile growing wider, “But perhaps we could try to do it together?”
Ignoring the voice in his head that rebuked him for needing help, Draco pulled out the seat next to him, gesturing towards it. “Please,” he said, “At this point, I’m begging you.”
Ever since he had come to a truce with Harry- no, Potter, Draco had tried to be more civil with the Saviour’s friends. In his quest to salvage something from their antagonistic relationships, he had found that Granger was somehow more tolerable than she had been growing up. Draco had worked with her a few times in their shared classes that year, and even he had to admit that beyond her near-encyclopaedic knowledge, her dry wit was almost humorous. And right then, he could use a good distraction.
The Gryffindor laughed brightly and walked over, dumping her books on the table and taking the offered seat. Summoning her work with a wave of her vinewood wand, the dark-skinned girl set it down next to Draco’s parchment to compare their equations.
“Oh, that’s interesting,” she said, squinting as she leaned closer to the table, “You used the Hypatian translation of Theon’s works. Why is that?”
“I tried it using the original alteration, but it ended up being needlessly complicated. I was not sure if Professor Vector would accept it,”
Making a noise of agreement, Granger grabbed one of her books and handed it to him with the instruction to locate a specific chapter. Accepting it gratefully, Draco set about trying to find something to help them.
The time passed comfortably, the quiet sounds of pages turning and soft conversations slowly fading as students left the library for their dorms one by one. Draco knew Granger wasn’t easy to work with, unused to collaborating with others as she was, but she was brilliant. Most found themselves hard-pressed to keep up with him academically, but the brown-eyed girl kept apace wonderfully.
It wasn’t long before they made significant progress and finally figured out how to work the equations their professor had set for them. The two of them were so engrossed in their conversation that they nearly jumped out of their seats when Madam Pince sidled up to their table.
“It is almost curfew, Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy,” the dark-haired witch looked down her long nose at the two frazzled students, “You’d best gather your belongings.”
“Yes, Madam Pince,” they said in unison, hurrying to pick up their things.
Draco carefully placed his parchment into his bag alongside his books. The two of them were the last students left in the library he realised as they walked briskly towards the exit.
“Thank you,” Draco said, clearing his throat, “For helping me. I am not sure how far I’d have gotten without you.”
“Thank you as well,” Granger said warmly, smiling up at him, “It was nice to have someone to study with; Morgana knows Harry and Ron try, but studying really isn’t something they enjoy.”
“Nor is it something they do too often, I’d wager,” Draco smirked, holding the door open for the small girl.
“Your words, not mine,” she snorted as they walked out into the corridor; it was strangely gratifying to hear Granger laughing at his jokes. “You know,” the girl started, glancing at him, “We should do this more often.”
“Make fun of Har- Potter and your Weasel, you mean?” Draco cursed internally. Ever since that day on the bridge, when he had fought back to back with Potter, his mind had unhelpfully decided that it wanted to think of the green-eyed boy by his first name. Never mind that they’d been spitefully using each other’s last names for the last six years.
“Watch it,” Granger warned half-heartedly, “I meant study together. I’ve been looking for a decent study partner, and you’ve proven to be far more than decent.”
“Careful, I might think you were complimenting me,”
“And if I was?”
Draco stopped walking, regarding the Muggle-born Gryffindor beside him with indecision. Would it be so bad? Sure, his parents would likely cry tears of heartbreak if they ever found out, but he had disagreed with them over blood status for years now. Funny how it had been his own family that showed him exactly why he could no longer ascribe to their insane ideals. They had only themselves to blame.
“Well then,” Draco said with a smile, holding his hand out, “I’d say I look forward to working with you, Miss Granger.”
Granger beamed as she took his hand.
~~~
“The Slytherin Beaters have been particularly vicious today,” came Luna’s voice from the stands, “Perhaps Crabbe and Goyle have been bitten by the venomous Beeni Bug- oh, never mind, they still have all their fingers. Beeni Bug bites are known to cause shrivelled appendages and-”
Harry tuned out his friend’s nonsensical commentary, sending a silent apology her way as he dived out of the way of a Bludger. No one was quite sure how Luna had managed to convince their professors to let her be the Quidditch commentator that year, but the running theory was that she had won a bet.
They’d been in the air for almost an hour now, and the tension on the pitch had only gotten thicker and thicker. It wasn’t just the Quidditch Cup on the line, after all, but Gryffindor’s winning streak as well.
To Luna’s credit, she was correct; the Slytherins were playing as close to dirty as possible without crossing the line into cheating territory. Clearly, they weren’t too excited by the prospect of Gryffindor winning the Cup for the third year in a row.
Looking down, Harry could see Ron grabbing the Quaffle from the air, spinning around to throw it to Demelza as the Slytherin Chasers attempted to steal it back.
“Potter!” Malfoy’s voice carried even over the rushing winds, “You must be getting tired; you’re looking a bit worn down over there. Or is that how you usually are? You really make the decrepit troll look work for you!”
It had been like that the entire game, Malfoy throwing insult after insult Harry’s way in an attempt to derail his focus. The blond boy was grinning, his countenance one of wide-eyed mirth. Harry flipped him off with both hands, balancing on his broom using only his legs.
“You should really be putting your efforts towards finding the Snitch and not bugging me,” Harry shouted back, his tone dripping with false sincerity, “I know it’s difficult to look away from such talent when you’ve got none yourself, but you owe it to your team to try!”
Never let it be said that Harry Potter couldn’t give as good as he got.
“Mr Potter!” McGonagall had snatched the megaphone from Luna, “Put those away this instant!”
When Harry looked down to apologise, hastily hiding the offending gestures he had been making, he saw that Luna was giving him a thumbs up. He sent a grin her way, meeting her dreamy gaze.
Below the two Seekers, their teammates were almost blurs as they flew. Harry didn’t let himself watch the game for long. Instead, he scanned the pitch for a glint of gold or the flutter of a delicate wing. He wasn’t about to let Malfoy beat him in the first Quidditch game of the year, much less his first game as Captain.
“Coote hits a Bludger towards the Slytherin Seeker, narrowly missing his own teammate! Harry, you’d better keep an eye out for that Beater of yours,” Luna was back at the megaphone, “Draco is skilfully spinning out of the way with an impressive flip.”
Harry tried not to be offended that Luna, one of his dearest friends, was complimenting his rival.
“The Nargles are quite impressed!”
Malfoy aimed a vaguely confused but still appreciative smile her way. Harry swore he saw a flash of gold from the corner of his eye. Turning his broom, he angled it towards the Ravenclaw stands. Just as he was about to descend, trying to determine if he had truly seen the Snitch, a cry rang out from below him.
Ron was bent over his broom with a pained expression as he clutched a hand to his chest. Ginny was at his side in an instant, and after a few moments of tense conversation, she caught Harry’s eyes with a shake of her head. Immediately, Harry signalled for a time-out.
“Keeper Ron Weasley appears to have been injured; Gryffindor’s Captain has requested a time out- ah, it’s been granted by our lovely referee, Madam Hooch,”
Moments later, the Gryffindor team was crowded around their Keeper on the ground by their goalposts. Ron shook his head even as Madam Pomfrey waved her pine-wood wand over his left hand.
“I’ll be fine, mate,” Ron said as Harry eyed his best friend critically, “We need to keep going; we don’t have a reserve Keeper since Lilouana was called back home.”
Harry ignored him, instead turning to Madam Pomfrey, “How is he really? Is it safe for him to keep playing?”
The matron frowned, “The bone is fine, but his wrist has been sprained. I can easily remedy it, but the potion’s side effects will likely make him incredibly dizzy for the next hour. I can’t in good conscience recommend that he get back on his broom after being healed.”
“Then we can just wrap it until the game is done!” Ron protested, “We can’t forfeit just because of a sore wrist!”
“It is a little worse than just a sore wrist, Mr Weasley,”
“Ron-” Dean started, stepping forward, but he was cut off.
“Harry,” Ron was grabbing Harry’s shoulder with his uninjured hand, “We can do this. We’re fifty points ahead; if you catch the Snitch, we can win. We won’t get as many points as we wanted, but we can easily make it up in a later game as long as we win this one.”
Harry’s resolve was wavering.
“We can do this,” Ron repeated.
Harry turned to the rest of his team, “If we’re going to do this, we’ll need to do it together. That means we stop trying to score goals and focus on helping Ron defend.”
“Coote and I can keep Goyle and Crabbe occupied while you Seek,” Peakes, one of their Beaters, said as Coote nodded, “You’ll have to be insanely fast, though, Harry.”
“We don’t have a lot of time,” Demelza agreed, looking determined, “But we might just be able to pull it off.”
Looking around, Harry could see Dean and Ginny also nodding, seemingly willing to go along with his plan. Off to the side, Madam Pomfrey was muttering unhappily under her breath, but she didn’t intervene.
“I guess we’re doing this then,” Harry said, brushing dark curls away from his sweaty face.
As one, Harry’s team pulled their Quidditch goggles over their eyes. Madam Pomfrey went over to a frowning Madam Hooch, explaining that the Gryffindors had elected to play on.
Ron kicked off the ground, flanked by Demelza and Dean, and closely followed by Coote and Peakes. As they rose into the air, Ron’s wrist tightly wrapped, cheers went up around the pitch from the stands. Harry smiled and moved to join his team.
“Harry,” Ginny said sweetly, standing beside him with her broom in hand, “If you don’t catch the snitch before Malfoy, I’m going to start a coup and take over as Quidditch Captain.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just straight-up murder me for the role?” Harry raised his brow at the red-haired girl.
“Probably,” she smiled, and Harry swallowed at the sharpness of it, “But then I wouldn’t get to see you suffer as I destroy your greatest love. And really, that’s half the fun.”
With that, she was in the air, and Harry was left gaping after her on the grass-covered ground.
“Mr Potter,” Madam Hooch called to him, “You’ve got thirty seconds to get up there!”
Harry was off, flying up above the pitch to meet Malfoy in the middle.
“Ready to lose?” Harry asked the green-clad boy.
Malfoy rolled his eyes, “Been dreaming of this moment, have you?”
Below them, the game had started, and Harry could see that their new strategy was successfully holding the Slytherins off. It wouldn’t stay that way for long, he knew, so he needed to find the Snitch in record time.
“Actually, yes,” Harry smiled, eyes scanning the pitch, “Beating Slytherin for the third year in a row makes for the sweetest dreams.”
“So, I’m in your dreams then,” Malfoy said, a crooked smirk on his handsome face as he swayed in the wind, “I am flattered, Potter.”
“Oh, shove off-”
Malfoy was flying past him in a flurry of green and silver, angled towards a target Harry couldn’t see. Immediately, Harry raced after him. The other Seeker could have been feinting, drawing Harry into a wild chase in order to distract him, but Harry couldn’t risk it if he really had seen the Snitch.
“Malfoy must have seen the snitch!” Luna said over the screams from the stands, “The Nargles are cheering him on- hang on, why are you cheering for Malfoy? Oh, well, that’s unfortunate.”
Harry leaned into a turn as Malfoy switched directions, presumably following the Snitch's erratic movements. He still hadn’t spotted it, so all he could do was trail the blond as closely as he could. They started climbing, heading away from the pitch and into the clouds.
Sensing a presence behind him, Harry barrel-rolled out of the way, avoiding a Bludger just in the nick of time. As he righted himself, keeping an eye out for the Bludger that had gone past him, he caught sight of the Snitch.
“They’re diving, neck and neck,” Harry could barely hear Luna’s commentary over the rushing winds, “Harry is reaching out- they’re veering!”
Cursing, Harry threw his weight left, trying to follow as the Snitch made a sharp turn. He had been so close! Just a little further… Harry was reaching out his gloved hand, side by side with Malfoy as they barrelled towards the Hufflepuff stands.
“Malfoy has caught the Snitch, winning Slytherin the game by a hundred points! The Nargles are strangely happy about this turn of events-”
Cheers from the Slytherin stands drowned out Luna’s voice as Harry jerked his broom handle roughly, barely missing a group of Hufflepuffs. Instead, he scraped his leg against the wooden structure. The leather guard strapped to his leg did its job, protecting him from serious harm, but he could still feel some rather nasty bruises forming.
“Fuck!”
~~~
Hermione laughed as Neville animatedly mimed the snapping maws of the Fanged Geranium he had been cultivating for the past week. Apparently, the best time to feed them nutrient potions was on the first of the month, so Neville had woken up at the crack of dawn that morning to deal with the temperamental plant.
Truthfully, Hermione was impressed; chilly December mornings were not for the faint of heart when you lived in a stone castle, no matter how many warming charms there were. She had woken up early a few times to study with Malfoy, so she was well aware of the cold drafts in Hogwarts’ halls.
Glancing over at the Slytherin table to see her new study partner sipping what she presumed was tea from a delicate teacup, Hermione shook her head in disbelief. Learning to be civil with Malfoy when Harry made a truce with him had been one of her life's strangest experiences. Even stranger was the brand new almost-friendship she’d seemed to have struck up with the blond over their shared love of knowledge. She had yet to tell her best friends about her now-regular study sessions with the Slytherin precisely because she had yet to process it.
What is this world coming to? Never could I have predicted that Seventh Year would be the year I began voluntarily spending time with the prat, she thought almost fondly.
Just as Hermione reached for a piece of toast, deciding to use the strawberry jam Ginny swore by, Harry and Ron burst into the Great Hall. Hermione did a double take as they ran to the Gryffindor table. Across from her, Neville nearly choked on a mouthful of water.
“We slept in!” Ron panted, taking a seat, “Practice went so unbelievably late last night.”
Harry didn’t even say anything, instead opting to shove a light pink muffin in his mouth as he smiled sheepishly at them.
The two boys were wearing their jumpers, which in and of itself was entirely normal. What wasn’t normal, however, was how the jumpers fit on them.
Harry, his hair somehow more dishevelled than usual, was practically swimming in his maroon jumper. The knitted hem was almost down to his knees. Ron’s jumper, however, was inordinately too small, revealing a wide strip of skin around his waist. Ron tended to throw his jumper on without a shirt beneath it when he was in a hurry. Immediately, Hermione realised what was going on.
“Harry,” she said, fighting an exasperated smile, “Ron.”
“Yeah?” came Ron’s muffled reply as he scarfed down his breakfast. Harry only tilted his head at her, still chewing his muffin.
“I think that in your rush this morning, you may have accidentally swapped your jumpers,”
“What?” Harry finally said, his brows knitted together until he turned to take a look at the redhead beside him, “Oh, sweet Merlin.”
Ron looked confused until he glanced down at himself. Immediately, the two boys burst into laughter.
“That would explain why I’m feeling cold,” Ron snorted.
“How did you not realise this?” Neville asked, incredulous, “You two are absolute disasters.”
“Come on, Neville, I’m only half a disaster at most!” Harry protested.
Hermione shook her head at them and spread a spoonful of strawberry jam over her toast.
Standing up to give them a spin, Ron asked, “What do you guys think, can I pull off the cropped-top look?”
“Absolutely,” Harry winked up at him, “Shows off your abs. You look hot, mate.”
“Why, thank you!”
“Sit down and eat your breakfast, Ron,” Hermione laughed.
Hermione was glad that her best friends were feeling better. It had been a couple of weeks since their Quidditch match with Slytherin, and they had only just stopped walking around like a pair of kicked puppies. They both blamed themselves for their loss, she knew, and it had taken a while for them to regain their spirits. The Slytherins, however, were still on Cloud Nine. Hermione had suffered through Malfoy’s over-inflated ego enough to know that it would likely last until Yule.
“Hey, you know what,” Harry said around a mouthful of food, not even making a move to swap jumpers with Ron, “It’s kind of like we’re dating! We’ve stolen each other’s clothes.”
“Hell yeah,” Ron nodded enthusiastically, “You look great in my jumper.”
“You two make me gag,” Neville said when Ron blew Harry a kiss, “Seriously, I’m just trying to eat my breakfast.”
“Ignore them,” Hermione cut in, waving a dismissive hand at the two boys winking at each other, “That’s what I do.”
Ron and Harry let out identical gasps of offence. Harry dramatically lifted a hand to his heart, adopting a betrayed look.
“How dare you!”
“Hermione, how could you ignore our love?”
They clutched at each other, causing Ron’s- Harry’s? -jumper to ride up Ron’s torso, revealing even more pale skin. They both had shit-eating grins on their faces.
“I’ll have you know that we truly, deeply love each other! He is my precious little pumpkin,”
Ron shook his head at her, mock disappointed, “You should be ashamed of yourself. Ashamed!”
Around them, the other Gryffindors were beginning to notice the commotion. Many of them paused, realising what Boy-Who-Lived and his best friend were wearing. More than a few gave Ron appreciative looks.
“Absolutely! Darling, can you believe her?” Harry was wiping at fake tears, his green eyes sparkling.
“Not at all, sweet cheeks, honestly-”
“All right, that’s it,” Hermione said, standing to address the Gryffindor table, “Attention, everyone! I’ve decided I don’t want these two anymore; they’re up for sale! Any takers?”
Ron and Harry let out indignant cries. Hermione took out her wand and sent a spell their way in one swift motion, silencing them. Neville practically cackled.
The entire Gryffindor table and many of the Hufflepuffs from the table next to them trained their eyes on her. Hermione smiled when a good number of hands went up.
“Do they bite?” Melanie Stanmore asked from among a group of laughing girls.
“Only if you forget to feed them!” Hermione answered, restraining the silently protesting boys beside her with a spell when they began trying to tug her back into her seat.
“How much exercise do they need?” a Hufflepuff called out.
“Oh, just throw them on the Quidditch pitch for an hour a day, and they’ll entertain themselves,”
“I’ll take them for a bread roll!”
“Ah, a fine proposal,” Hermione nodded seriously, “Anyone got a counter-offer?”
“I’ve got a cup of coffee,” another student yelled from further down the table, “It’s got a tablespoon of sugar and a splash of milk!”
“Neil, coming in with a tempting bid!”
“How about a piece of crystalised pineapple?” came the voice of a short child at the end of the table.
“Sold!” Hermione cried as she manhandled a shocked Ron and Harry and shoved them towards the snickering Second Year. With a wave of her wand, she released the ropes restraining them and cancelled the spell silencing them.
The boy who had won her impromptu auction handed her a piece of his pineapple and grabbed the edges of their mismatched jumpers. Ron and Harry practically shrieked, looking for all the world like a pair of irate cats as they attempted to claw their way free.
“Come on,” he said, dragging the two Seventh Years towards the doors with impressive strength, “I need you guys to distract Snape while I sneak into the Defence classroom! I just know he still has a hidden stash from his days as the Potions professor.”
“What?” Harry spluttered, stumbling over his feet, “Hang on, Snape will kill me!”
“No!” Ron cried, desperately snatching a piece of toast as they passed the Hufflepuff table, “Hermione, please!”
“Silence, you two,” the grinning child said, still leading them away with sure footsteps, “We’ve got a heist to get started!”
Hermione only waved at them, happily chewing on her newly acquired crystalised pineapple. Laughter filled the Great Hall as the three boys disappeared out the doors. She could have sworn she also heard a few chuckles coming from the staff table.
Placing a few breakfast rolls and pieces of fruit into a bag transfigured from napkins, Hermione resolved to give them to her former best friends in class. Flitwick tended to turn a blind eye to students eating in his lessons. Besides that, he was ever so supportive of their antics; he found them humorous.
“You know,” Neville said, raising an amused eyebrow as he watched them leave, “You scare me, sometimes.”
“Good,” Hermione smiled pleasantly, finally able to finish her breakfast in peace, “Fear me.”
~~~
“You may, of course, go around in groups of your choosing, but please ensure that you stay with your partners!” Professor Burbage said to the students listening with rapt attention.
The Muggle Studies class had just entered Chester Zoo for their first excursion of the year, and the students were beyond excited. Harry tugged at the sleeves of his maroon jumper, more than ready to explore the first zoo he had been to since his cousin’s birthday six years ago. Here’s to hoping this time goes better, Harry thought wryly, though I wouldn’t mind setting a snake on Malfoy.
Beside him, Malfoy was watching passing Muggles with wide eyes. Harry snorted at the blond’s expression; he knew Malfoy hadn’t been around this many Muggles since they went to London together. Looking back at their London trip, Harry felt strangely nostalgic. Only a few months later, Malfoy was already learning to dress himself like a Muggle, his black button-up tucked neatly into matching slacks, and use technology without assistance.
“We will meet back here at lunchtime,” Professor Burbage said, flicking her hair over her shoulder, “Have fun!”
With that, the group of students began dispersing. Harry turned to Malfoy, phone in hand.
“Ready to go?” he said, “I was looking at the map we got earlier; I want to go see the elephants.”
“I don’t know,” Malfoy hummed, looking down at Harry with teasing eyes, “What if I don’t want to see the elephants?”
Before Harry could reply, glaring at the pureblood, he heard a high voice calling their names. Megan and Layla ran up to them, dragging Wendell along. Following Wendell was his project partner, Sally-Anne Perks, a Hufflepuff Muggle-born.
“Can we join you guys?” Layla asked, “We could all help each other record.”
Sally-Anne nodded, her honey-blonde hair catching the sunlight, “Wendell and I need some photos for our Instagram,”
“Of course,” Malfoy said, smiling, “We were planning on skipping the elephants and taking a look at-”
Harry scoffed and attempted to elbow the Slytherin sharply. Malfoy dodged his arm, sniggering. Around them, crowds of young families and smiling people were walking past, the sounds of their conversations floating in the air.
Remembering that they needed to record their introduction, Harry handed their phone to Layla and dragged Malfoy over to stand next to him. Behind Layla, the three Hufflepuffs each gave them a thumbs up.
“Hey everyone!” Harry started, “It’s-”
“Draco and Potter,” Malfoy interrupted, smiling as their friends laughed, “Welcome to Lester Zoo.”
“Chester Zoo,” Harry corrected, rolling his eyes. He took the phone back from Layla and pointed it at their friends, “And it’s Harry and Malfoy. Say hi to Layla, Megan, Wendell and Sally-Anne! They’re some of our classmates who have come on this excursion with us.”
Their friends smiled brightly and waved, and soon, despite Malfoy’s half-hearted protests, they were on their way to see the elephants. Harry handed their phone to Malfoy and grabbed Megan’s hand, skipping along the path as they neared the large, sandy enclosure.
Their excursion had come at the perfect time, in Harry’s opinion. They’d been told about it a couple of weeks ago, right after the disaster of a Quidditch game he had played against the Slytherins. Merlin knew Harry had needed something to lift his spirits.
Smiling as they reached the elephant enclosure, Harry took a deep breath, banishing his thoughts of Quidditch. Standing a little ways off from them were a group of mottled grey and brown elephants. Their enclosure was massive, with a variety of logs and rock formations surrounding a large pool in the centre.
“Look!” Harry gasped delightedly, pointing as Malfoy came to stand next to him, holding their phone up, “There’s a little baby!”
“It’s so tiny,” Wendell laughed, “I love it, it’s so cute.”
Their friends found their partners, taking turns getting photos and videos of the adorable animals. Beside him, Malfoy was narrating to the camera.
“The tiny one is so wrinkly,” Malfoy said, zooming the camera in, “What a serious lad.”
Harry muffled a laugh.
“The sign here says his name is Kumar,” Malfoy muttered, “I think he quite suits the name. Oh, look, he’s playing in the water!”
“Enjoying yourself?” Harry smirked, raising an eyebrow at Malfoy as the camera was turned towards him, “What you all don’t know is that Malfoy said he didn’t even want to see the elephants.”
“Hang on!” Malfoy protested, turning the camera towards himself, “That was only because I was being contrary. Disagreeing with Potter is an intrinsic part of my personality, I will have you know.”
Harry snorted, “Just look at the elephants.”
Soon, they had ample footage of the elephants, Harry and Malfoy taking turns snatching the phone from each other. The giant animals were unfairly cute, Harry decided. When Layla called them away to look at the rhinos, he sighed, looking back with a sad expression. Malfoy scoffed and pulled him away.
As they walked, their group of six struggling to stay together in the crowds, Harry recorded everything they passed. They stopped at the rhino enclosure and marvelled at the horned animals. They also passed through the bat enclosure, which Sally-Anne found particularly discomfiting.
The wind was cold, and Harry shivered slightly, pulling his jumper around his body. As he did so, a sign caught his eye. The cold was forgotten in an instant.
“Malfoy,” Harry started, a shit-eating grin breaking out, “Come here.”
“What?”
Harry pointed to a small, wooden structure surrounded by wire.
“Oh fuck no, Potter,” Malfoy spat, “I refuse.”
Holding their phone in one hand, Harry grabbed the blond’s arm and put all of his weight into dragging Malfoy towards the enclosure.
“It’s your family,” Harry exclaimed, snickering, “Your brethren!”
He held the camera up, swinging it between a groaning Malfoy and the small, chittering animals.
“Ferret, look at all these ferrets!”
“I hate you,” Malfoy seethed, trying to pull away from Harry’s grip.
As they stood there, struggling against each other, a group of ferrets approached the wire separating them from the two boys.
“They’ve come to say hello,” Harry crowed, immensely pleased, “Malfoy, they know you’re here! They sensed your presence.”
Malfoy scowled at him, shoving Harry’s shoulder. Harry smirked, cooing at the fluffy, rat-like animals.
“Aren’t you guys so cute! So much cuter than this giant arsehole,”
“I’ll have you know plenty of people think I’m cute!”
Harry waved him off and made the irate blond stand in front of the enclosure, delighting in ending their recording to take as many photos as possible. Once he was happy and Malfoy was sufficiently annoyed, he began recording again.
Malfoy looked up to the sky as if in prayer, saying, “What have I done to deserve this?”
“Aw, come on,” Harry sniggered, “Sometimes life just isn’t ferret all!”
“Sometimes life isn’t-” Malfoy looked at him incredulously, “Sometimes life isn’t fair at all? I hate you. So much. Truly, I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone more in my life.”
Laughing wildly, Harry elbowed the blond.
“You’re so mean to me,” he said, “You’re setting such a bad example for the other ferrets! Malfoy, they look up to you!”
As the two boys glanced at the group of ferrets staring at them, Harry realised that they were, quite literally, looking up at Malfoy, their long necks craned up.
“See!”
Malfoy was frowning, his brows furrowed as he groaned.
“Don’t frown,” Harry promptly lost what little composure he had left, “Just grin and ferret! Get it? Grin and bear it!”
Harry was bent over, gasping as he laughed, and the groups of people walking around them began staring.
“There are so many things wrong with you,”
“Oh, don’t ferret over it,” Harry howled, “No need to worry!”
Malfoy seemed to have decided that he’d had enough.
“You are a menace,” he hissed, grabbing Harry by the collar and tugging him away from the source of his amusement, “An annoying, evil little menace.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Harry laughed, wiping tears from his eyes, “That was so worth it.”
“Was it? Was it, really?”
It really was, Harry thought, and even the confused looks their friends gave them when they returned to the group couldn’t change his mind.
“Do we want to know?”
Malfoy’s vicious glare told them no.
~~~
By the time they made it to the reptile exhibit, Harry had finally calmed down. Their group entered the dark area, quietly chatting. Harry grabbed Malfoy by the arm and dragged him over to the first enclosure he saw, the glass reflecting the low light.
“Potter,” Malfoy sighed, “Slow down.”
“No,” Harry said, “Look!”
They came to stand in front of a large, wet enclosure situated behind thick glass. Inside was a bright blue snake, its diamond-shaped scales practically shimmering. The snake seemed to be sleeping; only its head and a small part of its body were visible under all the foliage.
“It’s not moving,” Malfoy said with a frown, and all of a sudden, Harry was ten, with Dudley banging on the glass of an entirely different snake’s enclosure.
“It’s sleeping,” he said softly, ignoring Malfoy’s raised brow behind their phone, likely in response to his tone.
“I gathered,” the Slytherin replied dryly.
Harry shook his head, fighting off the dark feeling that settled over him. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself where he was.
He was with Malfoy; his friends weren’t too far off. He was on an excursion for Muggle Studies. He was at a different zoo.
“Well,” Harry said, attempting to brush off his lapse in mood with humour, “This visit to the zoo is already going better than my last one! I doubt I’ll be shoved in a dark cupboard without food for accidentally releasing a snake this time.”
Malfoy choked.
“Potter,” he said, his eyes watering as he gave Harry an incredulous look, “You need to not.”
“What,” Harry asked, “Can I not joke about my dead mother’s horrible family?”
“You quite literally have a therapist, go talk to them,”
“Nah,” Harry brushed him off, “Joking about it is so much funnier.”
“No,” Malfoy pointed a finger at him, frowning, “Stop using humour as a coping mechanism. Bad Potter.”
Harry snorted, rolling his eyes at his rival before he walked away, wanting to visit a different snake away from the camera. He pushed down the uncomfortable feeling in his chest. Malfoy was probably right, he knew, so he decided to book an appointment with his therapist over the Yule holidays.
Passing by enclosures full of different reptiles, like snakes and lizards, as well as one rather memorable frog climbing the glass, Harry took in each of the animals. A small enclosure in the corner of the area caught Harry’s eye as he walked around. Inside was a tiny, brown snake perched on a branch.
‘Hello,’ Hary said quietly, slipping into Parseltongue as he furtively looked around to ensure no Muggles were nearby.
The tiny snake froze, its head whipping towards him.
‘A Speaker!’ it exclaimed, rushing towards the glass separating them, ‘Hello, Speaker!’
Harry laughed softly, saying, ‘It’s lovely to meet you. What’s your name?’
‘The human-who-feeds calls me Pretzel,’ the snake replied, ‘What is Speaker’s name?’
‘Harry,’
For a few lovely moments, Harry stood there conversing with Pretzel. He had always had such a soft spot for snakes. And even now, years since he had discovered he was one of the few wizards who could talk to them, the novelty hadn’t worn off.
‘The hoppers are my favourite,’
‘Hoppers?’ Harry asked, ‘What are those?’
‘They hop in grass and make noise with their legs, Speaker Harry,’
‘Oh! You mean crickets-’
“Are you talking to the snake?” Malfoy’s voice came from behind him, causing Harry to shriek in a rather undignified manner.
The tall boy snickered, brushing his white-blond hair away from his face.
“Er,” Harry shrugged, “Maybe? I just wanted to chat. Are you done recording?”
“Megan’s got our phone; Layla was apparently monopolising theirs,” Malfoy shook his head, plush lips twisted into a smile, “We are heading to lunch now; say your goodbyes.”
Malfoy returned to where Harry could see Megan, Layla, Wendell and Sally-Anne waiting.
‘I have to go now, Pretzel,’ Harry said sadly, ‘I hope your keeper gives you crickets for dinner!’
Pretzel swayed his head in an adorable imitation of a wave as Harry made his way back to his friends.
~~~
Harry had just finished one of the sandwiches the Hogwarts house elves had made for their class when he was approached by Professor Bulstrode, the other chaperone on their excursion.
Professor Pelion Bulstrode was Hogwarts’ newest teacher, having joined the faculty at the start of that year. He had been a last-minute replacement, teaching Astronomy. He was apparently quite a good teacher, not that Harry would know. The mystery around him was that he had shown up just as Professor Sinistra had disappeared. The Hogwarts rumour mill had a morbid theory that the woman had died.
All Harry knew about him was that the dark-haired man had argued in his favour after he’d had a fistfight in the Great Hall with Malfoy, ultimately allowing him to visit Hogsmeade.
“Hello, Mr Potter,” the wizard said, the lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth barely visible, “I’m glad to see that you and young Mr Malfoy are getting along better now.”
Glancing at Malfoy, who sat at the end of the long picnic table talking animatedly to Wendell, Harry shrugged.
“About as well as we can,” he said around his last bite of food, “I’m sure you’ve heard of our many issues from the other professors.”
“Indeed, I have,” Professor Bulstrode laughed, “But I must say, you two haven’t been quite as bad as I’d thought you would be. Charity tells me that may be due to your forced cooperation in her class.”
“Something like that,” Harry agreed.
Professor Bulstrode smiled and excused himself, making his way over to the next group of students. Next to him, Megan leant over to whisper in his ear.
“I still think Sinistra is dead, and Dumbledore is trying to cover it up,” she said under her breath.
“Eat your food,” Harry admonished, “You’ve been saying that for the past month and a half. I have yet to see any evidence.”
Behind him, Harry heard a shy voice say, “Excuse me?”
Turning around, Harry saw that it was a girl about his age with what looked to be her older brother. The siblings had the same dark hair and dark eyes, though only the girl sported a pair of glasses.
“Hello,” Harry said, a bit confused, “Can I help you?”
“You wouldn’t happen to be Harry Potter, would you?” the girl said in a rush, “It’s just that I watch your YouTube channel! And so does Michael, uh, my brother.”
Harry stared in shock for a moment. These two people, who happened to be visiting the same zoo as him at the exact same time, watched their videos? And they recognised him? Harry wasn’t sure what to do; this had never happened before. This was the first time he had ever been recognised for something other than being the Boy-Who-Lived.
He felt a smile break out, his heart beating rapidly. Harry stood in a rush, almost tripping over his feet.
“Yes, I am!” he said excitedly, beaming at them, “Hang on-”
Turning back, Harry called Malfoy over, shouting at him.
“Blondie! Get over here!”
Malfoy didn’t even look at him, saying, “No, I’m talking to Wendell. Go bother someone else.”
“Oh, for the love of all things holy,” Harry groaned, “Malfoy, come here, damn it. These two watch our channel!”
His head whipped towards Harry, and Malfoy stared, his jaw falling in shock. Harry waved him over urgently, apologising to the siblings clearly holding back laughter.
“I’m sorry about him,” Harry said sagely, “I’m still teaching him how to socialise like a regular human being.”
“Excuse you!” the blond exclaimed, hurriedly rising out of his seat to make his way over. He smiled brightly, holding his hand out, “Ignore this one; he’s full of lies. I’m Draco, Draco Malfoy.”
“Evangeline,” the girl said, taking his hand with a giggle, “And this is my brother, Michael.”
“How do you do?” Michael asked, taking Malfoy’s hand once his sister moved aside, “It’s crazy to meet you here! Evangeline saw you guys from over there and nearly had a heart attack.”
“Hey!”
Harry and Malfoy laughed as Evangeline admonished her brother, blushing furiously. Behind them at their table, Megan, Layla, Wendell and Sally-Anne had moved away with whispered conversations, giving them space even as they cast furtive glances back.
“Anyway,” Evangeline was flustered, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, “We were just wondering if you’d be willing to take a picture with a couple of your Minions?”
“Hah!” Malfoy shouted, ruffling Hary’s hair triumphantly, “I told you Minions was the correct form of address!”
“Oh, shove off,” Harry pushed him away, “Yes, of course we’d be happy to take a picture with you guys.”
The siblings smiled brightly. Michael took out his phone from the pocket of his jeans, pulling his sister into his side as Harry placed himself next to them. Malfoy took the spot behind him, placing a heavy hand on Harry’s shoulder to balance himself.
The heat of Malfoy’s pale hand almost distracted Harry from the flash of the camera. Shaking off the feeling in the pit of his stomach, he laughed when Evangeline insisted her brother take a photo on her phone as well.
“Thank you so much,” Evangeline gushed once they had taken their pictures, “We’ll stop bothering you guys now; we really appreciate it!”
“Thanks, mate,” Michael shook Harry’s hand and then Malfoy’s, “It was great meeting you.”
“It was no bother,” Malfoy smiled winningly at the siblings, “It was a pleasure meeting you both.”
The two walked off, talking excitedly. Harry laughed good-naturedly at the lingering blush painting Evangeline’s face.
“So,” Harry said with a smile, still processing what had just occurred, “That happened.”
Malfoy seemed to agree with his sentiment, watching their Minions- no, fans, damn it, walk away.
“That was weirdly sweet,” he said, smoothing the front of his black button-up, its silver buttons glinting in the sunlight.
Harry nodded. Turning back to where their friends had ended up moving, they were bombarded by questions. The two boys could only laugh as the four of them shrieked in excitement, their eyes wide with delight.
~~~
“We’re allowed to go in?” Harry said, disbelieving, “Are you sure?”
They were standing outside a deer enclosure, having gone off as a pair, and Harry was certain Malfoy was trying to trick him.
“It says so on that sign, Gremlin,” Malfoy rolled his eyes, “Have a little faith in me.”
“Never,”
Making their way into the enclosure, Harry reluctantly followed behind Malfoy. They took out their phone and began recording the many deer lazily munching on the grass-covered ground. The furry animals were docile and, according to the signs littered around their enclosure, had either been born in captivity or rescued from life-threatening injuries that prevented them from being released back to their homes.
“Minions,” Malfoy was saying to the camera, a serious expression on his sharp face, “Potter here insisted that I get photos with the ferrets he found earlier. I reckon that it is high time it was his turn.”
The blond swung his camera towards Harry, plush lips pulled over white teeth as he grinned widely.
“Go pose with the deer, Bambi,” he sniggered as Harry scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Our Minions will find this hilarious. Not to mention Sirius and Remus. Maybe I will mail them a couple of pictures over the holidays!”
“Have I told you I hate the fact that you’ve stolen my godfathers from me?”
“Many times, now go pose with the other deer,”
Turning to squat next to a small, spotted doe, Harry flipped Malfoy and the camera off. Malfoy was laughing, calling out posing instructions, which Harry resolutely ignored. Just as he was about to ask if he could stand up, Harry felt the sensation of someone tugging on his hair.
“AH!” Harry shrieked, scrambling away from the doe as he landed on the grassy ground. He swore it had a triumphant look in its wide eyes, “It tried to eat my hair! I’ve got deer slobber on me!”
Malfoy was shaking with laughter, rushing up to him and pointing their camera at his now wet-with-deer-spit hair.
“Oh deer,” Malfoy snorted as Harry gave him a betrayed look, “How horrible. I’m so distressed on your behalf.”
“You’re a prat. Just tell me if my hair is ok,”
“In my opinion, your hair has always been truly horrific-”
“Malfoy! How much spit is on me?”
The Slytherin stepped back, allowing the camera to see Harry on the ground in all his ruffled glory.
“Enough,” Malfoy said with a smirk, flipping him off before walking away to look at more deer.
Harry wondered if Professor Burbage and Professor Bulstrode would care too much if he shoved Malfoy into the lion enclosure. He had taken a look at the sharp-toothed animals after lunch, and he was sure he could find a way to get the irritating boy past the glass.
With a final glare at the not-so-innocent doe, Harry stood, brushing his jeans off. He ran after Malfoy, who was waving at a group of deer, resisting the urge to pull out his wand and curse the blond in front of a bunch of Muggles.
They finished up with the deer, Malfoy promising him sincerely that he would find a way to show Sirius and Remus the video of Harry’s hair getting eaten, and made their way out of the enclosure slightly more dishevelled than they had entered.
The rest of the afternoon was spent making their way around whatever animals caught their fancy. Despite enjoying himself immensely, Harry was beginning to feel tired as he walked with Malfoy through throngs of people. Eventually, they found themselves in a play area with a playground and small tables with various activities.
“What are these?” Malfoy asked, grey eyes focused on a piece of stationary he picked up gingerly.
“Colouring pencils,” Harry said just as a small child nearby said the exact same thing.
“Jinx!” the child cried, running off with a giggle.
Malfoy’s eyes were wide, “Potter, did that child just jinx me?”
Confused, Harry frowned, “Yeah?”
Gasping, Malfoy flinched. Harry realised what he had meant.
“Wait, no! Hang on, no, she didn’t jinx you. It’s a Muggle thing; you say jinx when you say something at the same time as another person.”
“Are you sure?” Malfoy narrowed his eyes, still holding the colouring pencil as if it would bite him, “That seems like a lie.”
“The kid didn’t even have a wand,” Harry rolled his eyes, “Just ignore it. Also, colouring pencils aren’t dangerous, you know. You can hold it normally.”
“Fine,” Malfoy looked at him dubiously, “This is a colouring pen-cil? What do you do with it?”
“Oh, just give it here,”
Harry snatched the brown pencil from the blond, sitting down and grabbing a blank piece of paper. Staring down at the page, Harry knew what he wanted to draw.
“They write?” Malfoy seemed taken aback, “I want to try.”
Malfoy sat down across from Harry, grabbing his own set of pencils. Harry snorted when the blond attempted to draw with the wrong side of the pencil, not bothering to correct him. Malfoy could figure it out on his own. Harry set their phone up at the end of the table, giving it a wave before turning back to his paper.
Deciding that he wanted to draw Pretzel, the snake he had met earlier, Harry grabbed the colours he needed. He sat at the table with Malfoy, drawing silently as he focused on getting as close a likeness to the small snake as he could.
Harry had never been particularly amazing at drawing, but he liked to think he could draw decently. As the snake began to take form, Harry smiled, carefully colouring in the pattern of Pretzel’s brown scales. Harry was startled out of his focused state by a sudden movement from the other side of the table.
“Behold,” Malfoy held up his drawing proudly, his chest puffed up, “I drew a picture of you, Potter.”
Harry glanced up to see that Malfoy had drawn a truly horrific rendition of what he assumed was a deer based on the antlers and tail. The deer had bright green eyes and a lopsided lightning bolt drawn in the middle of its forehead.
“Hang on,” Harry was offended, “Why is there a giant arrow pointing to it with the word ‘Stinky’? Why is it entirely capitalised?”
“Because,” Malfoy winked at him, “Potter Stinks.”
Harry took in his stupid smile and lunged, “Oh you little shit-”
“HARRY! MALFOY!”
Harry startled, crashing into Malfoy. They fell in a heap onto the grassy floor, his knee ending up in the blond’s rib cage and Malfoy’s elbow in his face.
Grunting as they hit the floor, Malfoy shoved Harry off of him, saying, “Get off of me, Potter! Why do you always end up on top of me?!”
Layla and Megan froze by their table. Layla’s eyes were wide, a tanned hand held up to her mouth. Megan, on the other hand, laughed.
“Harry always ends up on top of you, does he?” she said suggestively, snickering when the boys still splayed out on the floor groaned, “Interesting.”
Harry felt his face flush as Malfoy spluttered beside him.
“Anyway,” Layla interrupted, flustered. They rose from the ground, glaring at each other as she said, “We just found something we think you might want to see.”
Harry cleared his throat and grabbed the phone she offered them before Malfoy could, poking his tongue out. The four of them crowded around it and looked down at the screen. The girls had TikTok open, and a video was playing.
Watching as the video began, Harry almost gasped. On the screen was, well, him. A series of video clips of him and Malfoy played in quick succession as music with a heavy base played in the background. The video clips were from their YouTube channel. Harry realised that beside him, Malfoy’s jaw had dropped.
“What is this?” Malfoy asked, eyeing the screen with vague confusion, “Layla, Megan, why are there videos of us?”
“They’re called edits,” Megan said cheerfully, snatching the phone back to find a new video, “People make them of lots of social media personalities. Guess that includes you guys now!”
She tried to return the phone to them, but Layla got in the way.
“Wait, no, you can’t show them that!”
“Take it!” Megan cried, and Malfoy managed to grab the phone, “You need to see this one!”
Harry looked over Malfoy’s shoulder as synthetic music began playing, a drum beat in the background. Suddenly, videos of Malfoy at the beach started playing, the blond shirtless in the water and the sand.
Making a strangled noise, Harry watched as clips from their beach video were played again and again. He tried valiantly to fight the blush he knew was already staining his cheeks, particularly when a close-up of Malfoy in the water filled the screen.
“Ah,” Malfoy smirked, preening when he glanced over his shoulder at Harry, who ducked his head, “I see what they did there.”
“We searched you guys up,” Megan said as Layla took their phone back, “And there is way more where that came from. You’ve got some too, Harry.”
Clearing his throat, Harry hid his face behind his hands, sitting back down at the table they had been drawing on.
“That was disgusting,” he said, fighting a smile, “You’re hideous, Malfoy.”
The Slytherin’s only reply was a knowing grin.
~~~
Harry lay on the bed in the spare dorm Professor Burbage had given them to use for their project. His robes were heaped in a crumpled pile on the floor, leaving him in jeans and a white button-up. Malfoy was sitting on a plush loveseat he had transfigured from a rickety old stool they’d found, their computer sitting in his lap.
It was nearing midnight, but they were determined to upload their latest video before the weekend. It would be the last video they posted that year, as Yule was a mere two weeks away.
On the velvet loveseat, Malfoy yawned, his hair falling around his eyes in soft waves. They’d been at it for hours now, having captured way too much footage on their zoo trip.
“Har- Potter,” Malfoy swore under his breath, but Harry paid him no mind, “What are we making the title?”
Harry stared up at the cream ceiling, contemplating. He said, “Something about the ferrets, maybe. We could say you met your family?”
“I am not having our Minions thinking that my family are ferrets,”
“Ok, your brethren, then,”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” Malfoy sighed, “Fine, I will add it in.”
The sound of quiet typing filled the room. It was soft moments like these that Harry loved; something about the late-night sky outside and tired ramblings made his heart feel full. Even if the moments were spent with Malfoy.
“You know,” Harry smiled, “I still can’t believe we met people who watch our videos. How insane is that?”
“Mhm,”
“I mean, realistically, I knew there was a chance, but I still didn’t expect it to happen,”
“Mhm,”
“They were rather sweet too, and- Malfoy, are you listening?”
“Uh huh,”
Harry sat up, turning to glare at him. The sharp-faced git was staring down at their computer intently.
“Malfoy,”
“Hm,”
Rolling his eyes, Harry said, “Harry Potter is perfect and the best Seeker ever,”
“Uh huh-” Malfoy’s head shot up tiredly when Harry snickered, “Hang on, what did you say?”
The bed creaked as Harry left it, planting his feet on the wooden floor.
“All right,” he said, “It’s getting late; we should go to bed. Is the video ready?”
Malfoy pressed a few keys before nodding, shoving the computer at Harry when he approached. Taking it, Harry looked over the video before nodding and pressing the upload button.
The low lights flickered as they gathered their belongings, and Harry pulled his robe back on in preparation to leave the warm room they had been occupying. He rubbed at his eyes, fighting a yawn as they stealthily exited into a hallway, keeping watch for anyone patrolling the castle.
“Potter,” the tall boy beside him said out of nowhere, “I demand that you tell me how you won the loyalty of the demon cat.”
“The demon cat?” Harry furrowed his brows, peeking around a sharp corner, “Wait, do you mean Crookshanks?”
“Obviously,” Malfoy drawled, “Who else could I mean?”
“Why do you want Crookshanks’ loyalty?”
They paused at a faint scratching sound coming from the hall ahead of them before continuing as it faded.
“Every time I see Granger, her feral cat shows up,” Malfoy ran a pale hand through soft hair, “I’m afraid for my life every time I see him, so I need to know. Does he like treats? Should I buy him treats? I can express order some from this renowned pet bakery in Italy.”
Taken aback, Harry said, “I don’t know which part of what you’ve just said to me needs to be addressed first. When do you even see Hermione? And a pet bakery… in Italy?”
“I see her around, and yes, Potter, a pet bakery. Do keep up,” Malfoy walked ahead of him, shaking his head as he said under his breath, “Thank Merlin I don’t keep him around for his brains.”
“Hey!”
The sound of scratching against the stone floors echoed around them, and Harry’s heart kicked into overdrive. He wondered if they had somehow summoned Mrs Norris by talking about cat treats.
“Shit,” Malfoy whispered, hurrying back to Harry, “I think Filch is coming!”
“Come on, this way!”
They ran back through cold, stone hallways, trying to find a decent hiding place. As they rushed away, their bags clutched to their chests, they could hear Filch and his stupid cat coming nearer and nearer.
“This way, Mrs Norris!” Filch’s creaking voice echoed, “There are students here, aren’t there, eh?”
A pale hand grabbed Harry by his robes and dragged him sideways.
“In here!” Malfoy said, shocking Harry as he pulled at the side of a deep blue portrait, swinging it open to reveal a tiny space behind it.
The boy shoved Harry in and climbed in after him. Harry grunted softly as his back hit the cold stone wall. Malfoy’s front was pressed against him as he reached back, struggling to pull the portrait closed. Harry stretched his arm out behind Malfoy and pulled at the portrait, casting them in darkness.
Harry could feel Malfoy breathing heavily, the Slytherin’s chest pressed to his own. Harry’s head fell in the crook of Malfoy’s neck as he tried to calm his beating heart. He could feel their bags pressed uncomfortably into their sides, trapped between them and the walls.
“I heard them, I did,” Filch said, his approaching voice muffled, “We must keep going.”
The sensation of falling jolted Harry as the boy practically draped over him started to lose his balance in the cramped space. Malfoy’s cold hands were on Harry’s waist as he tried to right himself, hunched over. Harry shivered, grabbing the blond by his hips to pull him closer, holding him steady.
Malfoy let out a soft breath, barely even a sigh, and Harry could feel it ghost over his ear. Harry wasn’t sure which of their hearts was beating faster, pressed together as they were.
“This way!”
The sounds of heavy footsteps followed by the soft scratching of claws against stone slowly faded away. Harry and Malfoy didn’t dare move.
It was a minute later, warmth seeping between them, before either of them spoke.
“I-” Harry’s voice cracked, and he winced against Malfoy, “I think he’s gone.”
The ends of Malfoy’s white-blond hair tickled Harry’s ears. The boy had been growing his hair out that year; it was almost long enough to tie at the base of his neck.
“Shut up,” Malfoy whispered, his hands tightening around Harry’s waist as their legs knocked together, “Give it a second. I refuse to get my first detention of the year because you were impatient.”
Harry huffed.
“Seriously,” he squirmed in Malfoy’s hold, pulling his head back, “He’s gone, let’s just-”
A now-warm hand clapped over Harry’s mouth, effectively silencing him. The back of Harry’s head was pressed against the stone wall. He could barely make out the pale face of the boy hiding with him.
Malfoy’s face looked flushed in the darkness, his high cheekbones shadowed. Harry swallowed, forgetting to protest at being restrained.
“All right,” Malfoy said after another minute, shaking Harry out of his stupor, “Let’s go.”
Using his foot, Malfoy kicked back carefully, forcing the portrait to swing open again, bathing them in flickering firelight from the torches. Harry nearly fell as the tall boy pulled away from him, stumbling out from the space they had been hiding in.
“Be quiet, for Merlin’s sake!” Malfoy hissed, glaring at him.
Harry felt dazed as they carefully shut the portrait, making their way towards their dorms and away from where Filch was patrolling with his cat. He couldn’t feel the cold, not anymore.
Finally, they made it to a set of slowly swinging stairs, and Harry was forced to shake his head and focus. He quickly jumped onto the top stair, grabbing the wooden banister firmly. Malfoy marched on ahead of him, not looking back.
“So…” Harry started, but he was interrupted.
“We are not talking about what just happened,”
“But-”
“No.”
Harry rolled his eyes. They walked down the stairs in silence, and it was a few more moments before Harry went to speak again, this time wanting to say something different.
“How did you know that hiding spot was there?” Harry asked, eyeing the back of Malfoy’s blond head suspiciously.
“I used to store prank supplies in there,” Malfoy said without turning around. Harry could practically hear the smirk in his voice when he said, “It is also where I hid the textbooks I stole from you at the end of last year. The portrait is warded against summoning charms.”
“What?” Harry’s jaw dropped, “I got into so much trouble over that! McGonagall almost turned me into a teacup!”
“Almost? What a shame she did not commit to it,”
“Bugger off,”
~~~
Draco dipped his quill in dark ink, carefully avoiding spilling any drops on his parchment. It was almost time for dinner, and he was determined to complete his essay. As he worked quietly, his hand stilled, the sensation of being watched causing him to lift his head.
Across from him, Granger sat on the stone ledge of a tall window, her book resting in her lap. She was staring right at him, her head tilted to the side ever so slightly. Draco furrowed his brow at her serious expression.
“All right?” he asked.
Granger looked away, focusing her gaze on the Quidditch pitch barely visible in the fading light.
“You know, we’ve been taking most of the same classes since Fifth Year,”
Draco only nodded, unsure of what had prompted her line of thought. Granger seemed… off. He wondered if he should go and find Potter or Weasley.
“I’ve enjoyed studying together these past couple of weeks,” Granger said, taking a deep breath before turning back to face him.
“I have as well,” Draco tried for a smile, “Are you feeling all right, Granger?”
She let out a small laugh, her tight curls falling over her shoulders.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Granger closed her book, slipping a strip of delicate metal between the pages, “I just had a question for you.”
There was silence, and Draco felt uneasy. Had he done something?
“I know we haven’t had the best relationship throughout our time at Hogwarts,” Granger said, “But I’d like to think we’ve struck up something of a friendship this year. Do you think-”
Draco waited for her to continue, not wanting to interrupt even as she tried to find her words.
“Do you think we could move past using our last names? I’d like it if you called me Hermione.”
Staring at the Gryffindor, Draco was floored. He hadn’t expected her to offer such a thing, not after everything between them.
“Do you mean that?” he asked, “I know I haven’t made finding your place in the Wizarding world easy.”
Draco had spent years belittling the girl for things outside her control, and things he’d had to learn didn’t matter. Even beyond that, she had been caught in the crossfire of his antagonistic relationship with Potter more times than he could count.
“You haven’t,” she said simply, “But you’re not the same boy I punched in Third Year. I believe in second chances; I mean it.”
Draco couldn’t stop his smile from forming as a warm feeling filled him.
“All right… Hermione,” he tested out the name, watching as the girl- Hermione -beamed brightly, “Call me Draco.”
~~~
Over the past few weeks, Harry, Ron and Hermione had been sneaking into the Room of Requirement after curfew to study the necklace they had stolen during the attack on Hogsmeade.
In Fifth Year, when they had begun using the Room for their DA meetings, the trio of friends had realised they needed their own private space to meet and hide various objects. From that realisation, their little room had been created.
Hermione had drawn up a floor plan with Harry and Ron's input, adding bookshelves, a brewing corner, comfy couches and a large table for all their plotting and planning. They had presented their plan to the Room and moments later, their own little sanctuary had been created.
Since then, their room had been the host of much late-night studying and many planning sessions. It was also where Harry and Ron had concocted many, many of their pranks. Presently, their room housed the stolen object they’d been experimenting with for the past few weeks.
They had already cast spell after spell at the constellation-covered orb to no avail. Harry was beginning to lose hope.
“There are too many masking charms in place,” Hermione frowned, her eyes tracking the different lights produced by her wand, “They’re incredibly strong; every time I think I’m getting past them, I only encounter another block!”
“So, in other words, we’ve still got nothing?” Harry asked, dejected, “I hate to say it, but maybe it’s time we ask Dumbledore for help.”
“Maybe we don’t have to,” Ron looked to Hermione, “No masking charm could be strong enough to hide all of the magic in the bloody orb. If we could just peel away even a few layers, we should be able to find something.”
“At this point, it’s worth a try,”
Hermione went to one of the many bookshelves lining their room, searching for something. A minute later, she brought back an ancient-looking Charms textbook. She opened the creaking book to a yellowed page, placing it in front of Harry.
“We tried a Revelio while you were recovering in the Hospital Wing,” she said, pointing to a diagram of the wand movement, “And it failed. But, maybe, if we alter it slightly... the spell will be rather crude, but if you cast it, Harry, there might be enough raw power behind the charm to force it to work.”
“Will it be safe?” Harry asked dubiously.
“Here’s to hoping,” Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, “It’ll be a true butchering of the spell, but I’m this close to just kidnapping a Death Eater and force-feeding them Veritaserum. So, it’s currently our best option.”
“Noted,” Ron sniggered.
Harry shrugged, lifting his wand as he studied the diagram, “What’s the incantation?”
“Try Intentio Revelio,” she said, “Actually, no, Propositum Revelio. Add a sharp upward flick to the start of the wand movement.”
As Harry aimed his wand at the orb, Ron and Hermione moved back, giving him space to attempt the makeshift spell.
“Propositum Revel-” Harry hadn’t even finished incanting before a bang erupted from the end of his wand.
Light shot forward, its force causing Harry to stumble. By the time Harry caught his balance, there was a scorch mark on the far wall of their room. The failed spell had just barely missed their bubbling cauldron full of a half-brewed potion. Harry and Ron weren’t sure what was in the cauldron, but they had an ongoing bet on whether it was poison or an enhanced Pepperup potion.
“Whoops?”
“Ok, scratch the upward flick. Try a small spiral instead,”
Three different wand movements, two small explosions and one singed, red eyebrow later, Harry was sure they had it.
“Propositum Revelio!” Harry said, lemon-yellow light bursting from his wand towards the orb as he pushed his magic through the charm. The spell engulfed it, blocking it from view for a moment before a soft ripping sound echoed around the room.
Harry blinked, cutting off the spell, and the orb suddenly leeched a deep red light. He gagged as a sharp, metallic scent filled the air.
“Did it work?” Ron asked, his freckled face bathed in red light. The shadows cast on his face highlighted his now-uneven brows.
Hermione stalked forward, her gaze intent on the constellation-covered object. “I think so,” she said, “Give me a moment.”
“It smells almost like blood,” Harry wrinkled his nose, moving back to give Hermione space, “Was that meant to happen?”
Shushing him, Hermione waved her wand, and the red light spun into a ball in her palm. She studied the ball of light; her brows furrowed before she turned to her best friends.
“You’re right,” she announced, “It smells like blood because that’s what it is.”
“The orb is made of blood?” Ron looked ready to gag, “I touched the bloody thing!”
Harry and Hermione shot him matching, disappointed looks at that.
“Er, no pun intended,”
Rolling her eyes, Hermione held up the ball of light in her palm.
“It’s not made of blood,” she shook her head, “It’s activated by blood! I think it might be a key of some sort.”
Harry was surprised: he hadn't been expecting that. The orb looked so innocuous, glittering silver carved with constellations. Yet, somehow, there was blood involved. He supposed he should have expected it from the Death Eaters.
“There’s not much else I can tell about it, though,” Hermione sighed, “I can’t figure out whose blood will activate it. Harry’s spell shows that it can’t just be any old blood; it needs to be from someone specific. Or perhaps from a certain family line.”
“We know there are plenty of pureblood families working with the Death Eaters in secret,” Ron said with a frown, “Maybe the blood needs to come from one of the Noble Houses.”
Harry nodded as Hermione looked contemplative; his theory made sense.
“All right, we know that it’s some sort of blood-activated key,” Harry said gravely, looking between his best friends, “So that begs the question: What does it unlock?”
They all stood silent as they stared at the orb with fresh eyes. Deep down, Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.
~~~
You were tagged in a post by Pop Culture Communications
Pop Culture Communications Break out influencers Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter (Potter and Malfoy) spotted at Chester Zoo! Check out the link in our bio for the full story of the suspected secret royal and his possible paramour!
~~~
“Finch,” Unspeakable Heron’s hesitant voice came from her doorway, “Have you got a moment?”
Unspeakable Finch looked up from her parchment, her quill stilling in the air.
“If it’s about Potter and Malfoy,” she said with a straight face, “Then I don’t want to know.”
Heron pressed his lips into a flat line and turned on his heels. Finch slumped forward when she heard his laughter echoing through the hallway.
~~~
Taylor L commented: I’m sorry, did anyone else hear Malfoy say that Potter always ends up on top of him?
kiiiiimyy commented: the elephants killed me theyre so cute
kiiiiimyy and 400.9k others liked your video
laura_jones commented: The ferrets were so funny! You’ve met your people, Draco!
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Polates commented: Loved meeting your friends.
redroseblueviolet commented: THESE TWO DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH TENSION THERE IS BETWEEN THEM
koopatroo replied to redroseblueviolet: WHEN WILL THEY SEE!!!
fillia commented: ewwwwwww deer spit
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Millie_Pie commented: I visited Chester Zoo last year with my kids, we loved it there!
TreezandBeez commented: :)
lilslie replied to Millie_Pie: I was thinking about taking my 5 year old there for her birthday in a couple of months!
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Kurby commented: Anyone going to talk about what Harry said about his dead mother’s family?
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whale._.t commented: Oh no…. they found the edits
Flipping.Around commented: look at all the ferrets
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Ormilton commented: The ferret puns made me spit out my drink
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TheGrant commented: Poor Bambi
ol_ol commented: guys that was my edit of their beach video I think I need to go into hiding
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user38787889 commented: Don’t worry, Potter, your hair has always been beautiful to me.
EvangelineLim commented: So cool meeting you guys the other day! Lots of love from Michael and I!
potfoyfansunite replied to EvangelineLim: YOU ACTUALLY MET THEM?!?!??!
EvangeineLim replied to potfoyfansunite: Yes! They were so sweet and so funny. They really do seem to fight as much off-camera as they do on-camera!