not all those who wander are lost

at first, it pisses draco off. this is DRACO’S thing, not potter’s! he probably learned these songs from his freak muggle family as child, whereas draco is cool and edgy for knowing them! god, everything potter touches instantly becomes lame!

but then, a few months into term, someone finally asks draco the question—where’d you get all these records from, anyway? and he just shrugs one shoulder, “my mother’s cousin,” doesn’t even say his name—but merlin the look on potter’s face is so… ugh. a mix between a kicked puppy and a hopeful child, and it makes draco’s stomach lurch.

completely unrelated, but draco wraps up sirius’s records and shoves them under that stupid christmas tree in the damn common room in the middle of the night. it’s nothing —he has his own copies anyway. he’s just taking out the trash. just charity work.

except, at the end of the night on christmas, draco gets up to flip the record and all of a sudden potter’s at his side, album in hand. “this one was my favourite,” he tells draco, “of all the ones sirius played for me.”

“that one’s shit,” draco says, but his voice comes out lighter than he wants, and potter laughs.