꧁𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝙸𝚜 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚂𝚘 𝙰𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼? (𝚊𝚑𝚑!)꧂

                                    

                                          
Word count: 6.5k
Published: June 17th, 2020
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February
                          
Hogwarts quickly went from "stone cold place of business" to "warm and gushy castle of love" overnight. 
                          
With all of Draco's extra studying to become a potions-master, he was struggling to keep on top of his other classwork, resulting in a lack of sleep, and even more difficult to stay with his natural easygoing (not really), funny (maybe), and dramatic (definitely) grain. Pansy commented on his lack of sarcastic comments, and Draco flipped her the bird, but lazily. Now, Draco Malfoy was nothing if not dramatic and rude, but he was never lazy. Malfoys were simply not lazy. 
                          
As the first two days of February passed, Draco forgot all about his duty as a Malfoy. He started leaving his hair more gel-free than usual, sometimes not putting anything but a spot of leave-in conditioner onto the silky strands. He became obsessed with sweet honey salmon, the dish that Granger had gotten for him at the group date, though he only ate a few times throughout the last days of January and the first night of February before becoming sick of it. He started walking more relaxed, and not standing as straight as he'd been taught to. He started reading at unusual hours, even for him, and he started sleeping in later than he should have been. Draco almost always woke up before Harry, but now he was being shaken awake by the Savior almost every morning. Completely un-Malfoy-ish if you asked him. 
                          
The plan that Draco had whipped up with Pansy and Blaise was all but useless now, since he'd completed it in nearly half of the estimated time. Blaise said that Draco should incendio the parchment, but Draco disagreed. Pansy wanted Draco to tell Harry about the whole situation if he wasn't going to burn the outline, mostly because she feared Harry stumbling upon it and seeing the portion that Draco had failed to split with, the dumping part. Draco declined, saying that he would tell Harry eventually, but that now wasn't the right time. It was simply a small taradiddle until Draco decided to explain. 
                          
He couldn't bare to part with the paper, and refused to light it on fire. It was nice, being free of the awful plan, but it was also an emblem of what he had been through that year. This month he was supposed to be obnoxious and wait for Potter to ask him out, which wasn't foreseeable on the grounds that Draco was quite literally already dating Potter. He, still, attempted to act more and more romantic with Harry, who thought it was absurd and "not like Draco at all".
                          
On February fourth, Draco was grouchy and tired. He woke up that morning feeling weird about, just, everything, and was planning to quit school. 
                          
He told Harry of his plans at breakfast that very day: "I'm leaving this Merlin-forsaken school and venturing off to die slowly in a pit. Try not to miss me too much." 
                          
Harry raised an eyebrow. "At least eat some breakfast before you go," he said. The Golden-Boy looked away, and continued to eat as if nothing had happened. 
                          
Draco scoffed. "Are you not going to stop me?" 
                          
Harry looked up. "Is leaving and dying in a pit what you want?"
                          
Draco's jaw tensed. "Yes." 
                          
Harry shrugged. "Okay then. I won't try to stop you." 
                          
Draco frowned. "Why do you always have to be so supportive?" he asked, angry with Harry for not trying to stop him from escaping. "You're supposed to tell me not to go." 
                          
Harry huffed and set down his fork on the plate with a loud clank. "So how do you expect me to act, then?" Harry catechized. "Do you want me to beg you not to go? I will." Harry grabbed Draco's hands in his own. "Please Draco, don't leave me! I'm begging you, beseeching you not to go! Is that better?"