Hello! Humble prompt suggestion.. I can't seem to stop imagining Harry and Draco out to dinner with a group of friends, not dating (but wanting to). Then accidentally acting all couply and getting each other to try each others dishes and being so wrapped up in each other♡
Harry was more than a little alarmed when Draco and Hermione of all people became friends. They worked together down in the Department of Mysteries as Unspeakables and apparently that kind of work fostered camaraderie. Since the war had ended and Voldemort had been destroyed, Harry didn’t exactly want to say things had gotten better. It just seemed that the pure blood wizards kept their bigoted nonsense to themselves because spouting it out in Wizard society made them look like part of the losing side.
Draco had mellowed out a bit since school, even Harry could admit that. The uptight pure blood sneering wannabe heir of Slytherin was not exactly gone but less obnoxious. Now that they weren’t at school and worked in completely different areas of the ministry, there really was no reason for them to continue their rivalry. There was nothing to compete over anymore and it made Draco slightly less nasty towards Harry.
Didn’t mean Draco wasn’t still a prick from time to time.
“Potter, what the fuck is this?”
Harry glanced up to see Draco poking at the coffee pot that Harry kept in his office. “It’s called a coffee pot, Malfoy. It makes a pot of coffee so I don’t have to go anywhere to get some, I can stay in the comfort of my own office.”
Draco wrinkled his nose at it. “I would have thought you’d enjoy venturing out to socialize considering everyone here basically worships the ground you walk on.”
Harry rolled his eyes and turned away from Draco. “Yeah well sometimes I just want to be left alone,” Harry said pointedly.
Draco didn’t seem to get the message and walked over to the desk, leaning against the edge of it and crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t understand why you bother with all that Muggle stuff.”
“I grew up on Muggle stuff,” Harry responded, absentmindedly jotting down a few notes for the case he was working on. He risked a glance up at Draco, who was staring at him in a funny kind of way.
“I just can’t imagine not growing up with magic,” Draco said looking slightly aghast at the idea. ‘I got my first broomstick when I was six.”
“Well we couldn’t all live such charmed lives, Malfoy,” Harry said, ignoring the pit in his stomach as he thought about his childhood. In moments of weakness or self-pity, Harry would wonder how different his life might have been if his parents had lived and he’d known about magic all along. Still, it didn’t do to dwell on what ifs.
Draco snorted. “Ah yes, a charmed life has been mine,” he said snippily.
Harry sighed heavily. “Did you want something, Draco, or did you just come up here to annoy me?”
“I was curious to what the savior’s office looked like,” Draco confessed with a nonchalant shrug. “Somehow I thought it’d be nicer.”
“I’m not the savior anymore, I’m just Harry,” he responded, putting his quill down and leaning back in his chair.
“You’ll never be just anything, Harry,” Draco said, putting his hands on the armrests of Harry’s chair, effectively caging Harry into his seat. Harry was alarmed for a moment as Draco got uncomfortably close, his shoulders tensing. He thought for a moment Malfoy was going to attack him or hex him. Instead Draco’s grey eyes bore into Harry’s as they stared each other down.
The air was rife with tension for a moment until Harry broke it by clearing his throat. Draco quickly straightened up, releasing Harry from his hold. “Malfoy?” Harry said uncertainly.
“See you around, Potter,” Draco said, turning on his heel and heading for the door. He gave a dismissive wave with his back still turned.
Well that was odd, Harry thought as he stared at where Malfoy’s retreating form had been only moments ago.
There had been several more awkward run-ins with Draco. For whatever reason, the ex-death eater seemed to think he had an open invitation into Harry’s office. He would drop by unannounced and give unsolicited advice on pretty much any subject. He would critique Harry’s robes, the way he held his quill, the fact that his glasses had a scratch on the lens. In fact it seemed no subject was too trivial for Malfoy to comment on.
Sometimes he would actually be helpful, like giving insight into some of Harry’s cases. Draco knew a lot about dark wizards and the darker side of magic and sometimes he was a valuable resource. But of course Harry would never tell Malfoy that. He didn’t need Draco’s head getting any bigger.
“So Granger has invited me to dinner tonight,” Draco said casually as he rifled through the papers on Harry’s desk looking for anything interesting.
“You still can’t call her Hermione?” Harry teased, batting Draco’s hand away.
“You still call me Malfoy,” Draco shot back accusingly, shoving his hands in the pockets of his robe.
“Only sometimes,” Harry said defensively. He took a moment to consider it. Maybe he had a point. “Fine, I’ll work on it.”
Draco’s lips began curling into a smile that Harry could only describe as devious. “How about we make a bet, Pot- Harry,” he corrected quickly. “First person to call the other by their last name loses.”
Harry cocked his head to the side and considered it. “And what does the winner get?”
Draco shrugged. “Whatever they want.”
“Within reason,” Harry amended. “Loser gets the right to veto and make the winner chose something else.”
“Very well,” Draco said, holding his hand out for Harry to shake on it. “If you need that much of a security blanket then fine. You’re clearly scared of what I’ll do to you once I win.”
Harry shook Draco’s hand a little harder than was strictly necessary. “We’ll see about that.”
Harry sat down at the table with Hermione, Ron and Draco, thinking just how novel it was that the four of them were spending time together willingly. Ron looked a bit like he had just eaten a boogey flavored bean but he didn’t say anything rude to Draco. Harry knew Hermione had warned Ron to be on his best behavior. He knew this because Hermione had barged into his office an hour before the end of the day and given him a similar threatening speech.
In truth, Harry hadn’t really needed it. Over the course of Draco stopping by his office, Harry now considered them something akin to friends. He certainly never thought he’d have a playful friendship with Draco where they made silly bets over dinner. Novel indeed.
Draco picked up his menu and began to peruse it. “What do you think you’re going to get, Harry?” Draco asked him when there was a lull in the conversation.
“Since when do you call him Harry?” Ron asked sourly.
Draco glanced over at Harry and winked. “Since recently,” he responded vaguely, ignoring the fact that Ron was staring daggers at him.
Harry picked up his own menu and skimmed it quickly. They were at some French restaurant and Harry didn’t know how to pronounce half the things on the menu. “I’ll probably just get a steak or something,” he said with a shrug.
Draco hummed as if that choice were acceptable. “I was thinking perhaps the duck confit.”
Harry laughed. “I have no idea what that is. Do you speak French?”
“Oui,” Draco said with a smug smirk. “I learned French from my mother at a young age. Learning French was a Black family tradition. I’m sure Sirius knew French as well.”
“I’m not sure,” Harry said, furrowing his brow. It was still maddening how little he knew about his godfather and how few moments they’d had together. “I don’t think he ever mentioned it. Sirius was hardly a typical Black.”
“That is true,” Draco said, taking a sip of his water. “Sorry for your loss. I feel as though I’ll never be done apologizing to your for the people my family stole from you.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me for the actions of other people,” Harry said, placing his hand lightly on top of Draco’s.
“And what about my own actions?” Draco asked, his eyes searing as he looked over at Harry.
Harry laced his fingers through Draco’s and gave his hand a small reassuring squeeze before pulling away. “I already forgave those,” Harry explained with a shrug. “That’s why we’re able to be friends now, Draco.”
“Friends?” Draco repeated softly, looking down at the hand Harry had been holding moments ago.
Harry laughed quietly, not wanting to offend Draco. “Yeah, friends.”
By the time their food had come, Hermione and Ron were deep in conversation about the wedding plans, with Harry chipping in as needed. For the most part though, Harry kept up conversation with Draco, reminiscing about old Quidditch matches and keeping away from heavy subjects like Draco’s family or the war.
“You’ve got to try this,” Draco said, holding his fork halfway between them in offering.
Harry made a face in response.
Draco rolled his eyes. “Live a little, Harry.”
Harry huffed and leaned forward, taking the fork into his mouth and tasting the bite of duck on it. The food practically melted in Harry’s mouth and he couldn’t hold back to moan that escaped. “Oh fuck, Malfoy that’s incredible.”
Draco licked his lips and then they curled into a devilish smile.
“What?” Harry asked self-consciously. He could feel his cheeks going red in embarrassment. He had no idea why Draco was looking at him like that.
“You lost the bet,” Draco said triumphantly. “You just called me Malfoy.”
“Oh shit,” Harry said, carding his fingers through his messy hair. “So, what are you going to do with me?”
“You’ll see,” Draco said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “It’ll have to wait until after dinner.”
“Can’t wait,” Harry grumbled unhappily, pouting slightly at having lost.
Harry didn’t live too far from the restaurant so instead of disapparating home he decided to walk. It was a little disconcerting to have Draco as his companion on the way home. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted Draco to know where he lived. Not that he thought Draco would spill it to the Dailey Prophet or anything, but Harry in general was careful giving out his address.
“So what happened with you and the Weasley girl?” Draco asked in a way that wasn’t entirely polite but wasn’t rude either.
“Ginny,” Harry said, hip checking Malfoy lightly. “You know her name is Ginny.”
“Yes her,” Draco sneered. “What happened?”
Harry sighed. “We tried the whole long distance thing for a while but it just didn’t pan out. We’re still good friends but she’s got her life and I’ve got mine and they feel very separate, you know?”
“I feel that way about a lot of the friends I had at school,” Draco confessed. “I hardly see most of them anymore. I suppose you grow up and you grow apart. It’s inevitable.”
They fell into a companionable silence for the next few blocks. Harry couldn’t help wondering what Draco’s old school friends would think if they could see him now, hanging out with Harry Potter of all people. Harry had certainly never imagined he would enjoy the pleasure of Draco’s company.
“So how long are you going to keep me in suspense?” Harry asked when they arrived at his front door. “Or did you need the time to come up with a good enough punishment?”
Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “What makes you think it’ll be a punishment?”
Harry grinned good-naturedly. “Because it’s you?”
“Well,” Draco began, taking a step towards Harry. “You may consider it a punishment but for me it’s fulfilling a childhood fantasy.”
Harry swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. “And what would that be?”
“I want to spend the night at Harry Potter’s house.”
“Oh,” Harry said, laughing a little in relief. “You want to have a sleepover? That’s something you wanted?”
Draco huffed. “Yes obviously.”
“Obviously,” Harry echoed dumbly, still trying to rationalize the information he’d just been given.
“Everyone wanted to be your friend, Harry,” Draco said as if annoyed to have to fill Harry in on this fact. “You were famous before even coming to Hogwarts. I knew you were going to be in my year. I used to imagine the things we would do together once we became friends. I would rehearse what I would say to you when we finally met.”
One side of Harry’s mouth twitched with the want to smile. “You probably should have practiced that a bit more, mate. From what I remember you came off like a right prick.”
Draco glowered at him. “I was an eleven year old boy trying to impress you. I feel like my whole life has been trying to impress you. Even if the things I did horrified you at least you would take notice of me.”
Harry blinked a few times behind his glasses. “Draco, it wasn’t as if I ignored you. You made that nearly impossible with all the shite you pulled.”
Draco took another step forward and cupped Harry’s face in his hand. “Even after all this time I still feel like that eleven year old who desperately wants to call Harry Potter his friend.”
Harry smiled. “You are my friend. You don’t have to try so bloody hard.”
Draco grinned in response. “Yes I do.”
“Because now I have to figure out how to get you to fall in love with me,” Draco explained softly, letting his thumb brush over Harry’s cheekbone. “I can only hope it won’t take quite as long because I’m losing patience by the minute.”
Harry felt his heart begin to race at Draco’s admission. “Then you should probably kiss me sooner rather than later.”
Draco’s eyes widened in surprise. “You would let me do that?”
Harry nodded. “Go on then.”
“Don’t do me any favors…”
“For fuck’s sake, Draco,” Harry growled, grabbing the front of Draco’s robes and kissing him furiously. His lips were hard and insistent as he coaxed Draco’s tongue into his mouth. It was deep and consuming and Harry felt the moment Draco gave himself over to it. Draco was still touching Harry’s cheek, the gentleness of it a stark contrast to the fervent kisses.
“Harry…” Draco whispered, his voice sounding broken.
“Come inside,” Harry requested gently. “You can spend the night and we’ll work on that whole falling in love business.” Harry licked his lips and smiled knowingly. “It shouldn’t take long at all.”
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