#oblivious!harry

Pain seared through his skull, and he clutched his scar. Headaches have been more frequent recently. With Umbridge banning him from Quidditch, finding out about the DA, even more closely patrolling all owls and floos, and Occlumency lessons from Snape, nothing seemed appealing anymore. He was waiting for the year to end to finally be rid of the old toad and be with Sirius. 

Considering the fate of all their Defence against the Dark Arts professors, he doubted Umbridge would be back next year, and he could get back to Quidditch.

He turned sharply into one of the tapestries, keeping a lookout for Peeves. The moment he stepped out, something, or rather, someone, bumped into him. 

Harry stumbled backwards but regained footing and caught the person by the arm.

“Hey, watch where you’re - ”

“Sorry - ” 

He could recognise that voice even in the dark, and he pulled them back into the tapestry.

“Harry? Is that you?” Ginny lit her wand. Now that he could see her face, she wasn’t scared. Instead, her face was flushed, and it looked like she was holding back laughter.

“Yes,” he whispered, “How come I found you running away?”

Ginny acted affronted and said, “Excuse me, Harry, but Ginny Weasley doesn’t run away.”

Harry smiled teasingly. They became very close after she brought him out of his brooding, and he felt like a prat for making her feel like what she went through was nothing. He apologised, and it was then he found out how much fun she actually was and how much he enjoyed her company.

“Well, what do you call what you’re doing now? Keeping distance from the evidence?”

This was another thing he found out. Ginny had impeccable taste in mischief.

“Something like that,” she smirked and peeked out of the tapestry. She immediately stepped back on Harry’s toes, but he didn’t make a sound. 

Filch’s voice could be heard. “Who did that? Who did that to poor Madam Dolores? I’ll chain you by the wrists when I see you. Pity the old punishments aren’t around anymore. Sniff ‘em out, Mrs Norris. We’ll find them.”

Harry and Ginny were chuckling silently, and he asked, “What did you do?”

Ginny bit her lip, and now Harry was even more intrigued. She looked so bloody adorable like that. What was he thinking? He pushed that thought away.

“I did something bad, Harry.”

“Anything done to that old toad isn’t bad.”

“Oh, I know,” she said darkly, “but this is something I haven’t done before.”

“So?”

Ginny’s chocolate brown eyes twinkled as she said, “There’s a portable swamp outside her office.”

Harry smirked, “A portable swamp? That’s weak, Weasley.”

“Not if the office is flooded,” she said.

Harry looked at her admiringly, and she blushed, but she went on, “And she’s a canary now.”

The first word that came out of Harry’s mouth was, “How?”

Ginny looked confused, “What do you mean how?”

Harry nervously tried to explain what he meant. He didn’t want her to understand it the wrong way. 

“I know you’re really good, but how did you pull off all these without Umbridge catching you?” 

“That will remain a mystery, Mr Potter,” she smiled and brushed some seaweed off her shirt.

“You threw a dungbomb outside her office, she came out, you slipped a canary cream in her tea, she squeaked for Snape, you flooded her office, came out, dropped a portable swamp and now are running away from Filch,” he guessed.

Ginny’s jaw dropped. “How did you know?”

“I know you.”

She poked him in the side, “Tell me.”

“That will remain a mystery, Miss Weasley,” he grinned.

She pouted, and he couldn’t resist that, “I have the map, and you asked me for the cloak after lunch.”

“Still, you couldn’t have found out the rest with them. You’re going to be an amazing Auror, Harry.”

His eyes were downcast, and he looked defeated when he said, “Not if Umbridge has anything to say about it.”

“The old pink monstrosity will be gone after this year ends. You will become an Auror if that’s what you want to be. And McGonagall will help you from what I heard from Ron,” she said supportively, her hand on his arm.

He swelled with happiness that someone believed in him, and Ginny felt that she was getting to him and was happy that he didn’t shy away from her touch.

“Thanks,” he said shyly, picking at his robes.

They looked at each other for a moment, which was rudely interrupted by Filch’s voice echoing in another corridor.

“Well, we must get going,” she said. She ignored both of their red faces, pulled out the invisibility cloak and handed it to Harry. He draped it over both of them, and they silently and stealthily made their way out of the tapestry and towards Gryffindor Tower.

They reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and were let in after Ginny whispered the password, and Harry poked his head out of the cloak.

Once they were in, Harry said, that irresistible smirk on his face, “That is bad, Gin.”

“Oh, I did something bad, Harry,” she said smiling, “but why’s it feel so good?”

“Because it’s Umbridge?” he suggested.

“Maybe it is. Goodnight, Harry.” She walked up the stairs slowly, not wanting the moment to end.

“Goodnight, Gin,” Harry smiled. “Maybe call me the next time, yeah?”

“Sure. Next time will be bigger, and I’ll need your help,” she beamed, brushing her hair out of her face.

“Oh, I thought Ginny Weasley didn’t need any help,” he teased, hands in his pockets.

“I’ll make an exception for you, Harry.” She made her way up the stairs, now a spring in her step and Harry couldn’t help but think that at least something good would come of this year.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

October

Harry squinted, and rubbed at a smudge on the window.

“Mate, don’t tell me you’re looking at Malfoy again.”

Harry jumped a little and sheepishly adjusted his glasses. “I don’t know what it is, Ron, I just feel as if I need to keep an eye out for him. He’s always alone, and he hates the forbidden forest, why is he even going in there?”

Ron flipped a page of the comic book Harry had brought for him at the beginning of term. The fact that the main character could fly on demand without a broom psyched him out a little, but he seemed like a good enough bloke, and the drawings held his interest.

“Why don’t you walk with him then?”

Harry glanced back. “We aren’t friends. Besides, maybe he wants to be alone.”

Ron snorted, but didn’t look up from a particularly nice looking drawing of the superhero in some tight latex. “Yeah, sure, mate. Maybe he really wants to just be left alone. In the forbidden forest. The worst place on Earth.”

---

November

Harry was frantically scrabbling to swing his robes on without dropping his bag or tripping over the moving stairs when his wand conveniently dropped out of his pocket and rolled down the steps and off of the staircase in mid-swing.

“Fuck!” He swore, and glanced over the bannister, only to see his wand flying back up to him and smack him in the face.

“Ow,” Harry said, fumbling with the wand until he caught it between his two palms. “What,” he continued, staring straight at it.

“You should keep a better eye on your possessions, Potter,” A voice said from somewhere above him. Not that it was a mystery voice. Oh no. Harry was all too familiar with this lazy cadence and posh accent. “You never know what could happen.”

Harry glanced up, but couldn’t see against the light coming from above.

“You’re going to miss your staircase if you don’t get moving, Potter.”

“Malfoy, I--” Harry started.

“Don’t mention it, Potter.”

It didn’t occur to him at the time that this had meant that Malfoy had Harry’s schedule memorized. But then again, Harry was oblivious to quite a lot.

---

December

Something wet hit Harry’s cheek.

“Harry! Pay attention to us! We’re neeeeedy!”

Harry rubbed the potato off of his cheek and pushed Seamus’ shoulder. “Sorry, mate, what were you saying?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Listen, Harry, I know I’m one to talk but how long is it gonna take you to realize?”

“Realize what?” Harry asked, but he was already preoccupied with looking back over to the Slytherin table, and a small pile of wrapping paper starting to build up on the floor. “He’s smiling,” Harry said to himself.

Dean raised his eyebrows at Seamus. Seamus rolled his eyes and readied a spoonful of potatoes.

---

January

Hermione poked Harry’s thigh. They were all sitting in a circle, and she was laying down with her head in Pansy’s lap as Blaise, Ron, and Draco argued over the origin of some ridiculous pure blooded tradition of putting a dragon scale in your drink at New Year’s for good luck. Hermione, interested in how red Ron’s face could turn and how fast Blaise’s leg could bounce, thought she would keep the origins of the dragon’s scale (or should she say, mermaid’s scale) to herself.

“You’re staring again,” she whispered. She felt Pansy tug at her hair playfully, and looked to see a small smirk on her face.

“I don’t stare.” Harry was pouting. Hermione turned her attention back on him.

“Why don’t you just go for it? I’m sure it would end well. I have insider information, you know.” She wiggled down further into Pansy’s lap.

Harry shot her a confused look. “Hermione, really, you aren’t good at being cryptic. What are you on about?”

“Oh, I think it’s fairly obvious what she’s talking about, Harry,” Luna breezed, sitting down next to Harry in a puff of yellow and lilac skirts.

“Luna? What--”

“You like him, Harry.” Luna said, looking over to the arguing boys. Draco was gaining an interesting color to his face, Hermione noted, and he seemed to be refusing to glance in their direction.

“What! Sh! What are you--I-I would--what are you trying to imply here?” Harry said, running his hands over his jeans and through his hair.

Luna just looked at him. “I think, Harry, if you didn’t already know and it wasn’t true, you wouldn’t be getting so worked up over it.”

Harry slumped, dumbfounded. “Oh,” he said, and stared straight ahead. Hermione giggled.

---

February

“You’ve been acting weird.”

Harry dropped his broom cleaning supplies all over the floor. “I--what--no, I haven't!” He sputtered, bending down to pick up Miraculous Marcle’s Polishing Potion from the floor. That is, until a black leather shoe, shined to perfection stepped on it first. Harry gulped, face turning red, and looked up at Draco.

Draco took his foot of the bottle, and shuffled a little, in a very uncharacteristically Draco move. “Look, Harry, it’s not as if I don’t appreciate you letting me be a part of your friend group, and if you feel like you’ve done enough, I understand, but--”

“No!” Harry burst out, and Draco looked up startled. “No, I mean I don’t feel that way! I like hanging out with you, I do! I just felt...maybe I was getting a little bit clingy,” Harry ended weakly with a hand on the back of his neck, and eyes focused anywhere but on Draco.

Draco swatted him.

“Ow!” Harry said, looking up and rubbing his arm.

“Idiot!” Draco said, and straightened his robes. “We are friends, now, Potter. Stop ignoring me. It won’t do. I have grown too accustomed to your oafishness to have you distance yourself now.” With that, he turned on his heel and was off.

Harry’s eyes drifted a little lower. “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe I am fucked.”

---

Valentine’s Day

Everything was going wrong for Harry today.

His alarm hadn’t woken him up in time for him to set up for that evening, let alone eat breakfast, and the outfit he had laid out last night (and had started planning a full bloody week ago), he found under a pile of cat hair, with pulled yarn from the hems.

To make matters worse, he had absolutely made a fool out of himself when he spilled pumpkin juice over himself seeing how good Draco was looking that day during lunch. And then, and then, Draco had used the anonymous letter in the shape of a heart Harry had sent to him to mop him up. Laughing. When Harry had asked him if he had read the note first, Draco had had a strained smile and said it didn’t matter, that it was probably just someone setting up to prank him.

Fuck.

Harry had skipped dinner to finish preparations, and he wasn’t even sure how he was going to get Draco to follow him to the Herbology greenhouses if he thought someone who hated him was going to be there.

Sighing, Harry lit the last orb and sent it floating into the center of the room, and started the treck back up to the eighth year dorms.

On his way, and in his hurry, Harry crashed into someone. Someone who smelled very nice. Someone who looked very nice. Someone who Harry thought was very nice. Fuck.

“Draco! Shit! I’m so sorry!”

Draco straightened with a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Harry! I--you weren’t at dinner.”

“No, I, er, needed to do something,” Harry said, fumbling.

“Oh,” Draco seemed to retreat a little, and took his hand off of Harry’s shoulder. “Are you going to be like the rest of our friends on dates and leave me alone on Valentine’s day, too?” His chuckle seemed forced, and he seemed to only hear what he had said after it had already come out of his mouth. He winced.

“Um, no, actually,” Harry said, taking a deep breath. “I was actually hoping you might was to follow me somewhere?”

Draco glanced up, surprised. “Me? I--Sure. Where are we going?”

Harry’s lips turned up in the corner in a half smile, and he shrugged a little. “I was thinking it could be a surprise?”

Draco was smiling hesitantly, and Harry’s heart spun a little. Maybe not quite everything was going wrong today.

Harry paused with his hand on the door handle, and stole a peak at Draco out of the corner of his eye.

Draco seemed nervous. He was fiddling with the buttons of his shirt, and kept glancing behind him, as if he was expecting someone to pop up and scare them.

Harry almost palmed his forehead.

“Harry, maybe we should--” Harry cut Draco off before he could continue.

“Sorry, sorry. I should have said, I--that it. Um.” Harry released the door handle and scratched his head. “It was--it was me.”

Draco shot him a look, one eye brow raised.

“I, uh, I sent you the letter today,” Harry mumbled.

Draco’s brows rose, and his mouth formed an O. “You! But, you, I?” Draco ended hopelessly.

Harry gave him a sheepish smile. “Here, just....” Harry swung the door open and watched as Draco’s tension melted off his body and a smile appeared on his face.

“Oh, Harry,” He said. The greenhouse was decked in golden orbs floating at different heights, gently rocking off of each other and shedding light on a small picnic blanket bedecked with a couple of loose flowers and some chocolates.

Harry’s hands were shaking, and he looked down again. “I know it’s, well, yeah. And I know you might not, but Hermione said--” Harry was cut off with a gentle squeeze of his hands in Draco’s, and it gave him just enough courage to look into grey eyes.

“I’ve been waiting for you to catch up, Harry,” Draco said, leaning in. “I was almost afraid I had gotten it all wrong.”

“No,” Harry said, drawn into Draco like he had his own gravitational field. “I’m just a little slow.”