“Blaise,” Draco fumed, storming into the living room, “what happened to the chest of drawers in my room?”
Blaise looked up from the paper he was reading and grinned at Draco.
“Do you like the new one? You’ve been whining about it so much, I thought I’d just replace that awful old-timer.”
“What did you do with that old-timer?”
“I sold it,” Blaise shrugged.
“You sold it,” Draco repeated flatly.
“Who did you sell it to?” Draco asked frantically.
“No idea,” Blaise said. “I didn’t get a name. Two people came by to pick it up. I think they were Muggles.”
Draco felt like he was about to faint.
“Did you take everything out beforehand?”
“Of course! What do you take me for?”
“Everything?” Draco insisted.
Blaise raised an eyebrow at Draco’s tone and studied him.
Draco took a step closer and narrowed his eyes.
“Even what was under the secret false bottom in the second drawer, nobody but me knows about?”
Blaise paled and his mouth opened.
“Oh,” he simply said.
“Yes, oh,” Draco growled. “Great, now I have to hunt it down. You’re a lousy flatmate.”
“Hey, I just wanted to do you a favour,” Blaise said defensively.
“You better hope they haven’t found what’s inside it, or I’m going to kill you.”
Doing the locator spell was easy enough. Draco had feared it wouldn’t work, but it seemed there were no wards guarding the flat the chest of drawers had ended up in. Draco apparated to the flat, his heart hammering as he knocked.
When the door opened, Draco was sure he had to be dreaming. Of all the people in the world. Of course. Of course.
“Malfoy?” Potter seemed stunned. He was holding a toothbrush and was only dressed in a green t-shirt and pants. “How did you find me?”
Draco shook his head, willing his mind to work properly again.
“You have something of mine,” he said curtly.
“And what might that be?” Potter responded, a grin beginning to form on his lips. It took Draco off guard for a moment.
“Can I just come in and check something?”
Potter stepped aside and gestured for Draco to come in. Draco wasted no time and quickly found the chest of drawers in the corner of Potter’s bedroom. He opened the second drawer and took out the little book he had been so desperate to get back.
“What’s that?” Potter asked, leaning against the doorframe.
“Nothing of your concern. It shouldn’t have been in there,” Draco huffed.
“Hmmm,” Potter hummed. “You know, I never would have thought you kept a diary.”
Draco blushed, quickly hiding his hands behind his back.
“It’s not a diary,” he said lamely.
Potter nodded, but he had a mischievous smile on his face.
“You want a drink?” he asked, turning around and heading back into the living room. Draco blinked and tried to find his voice again.
“Um, no thank you. You were obviously getting ready for bed. I won’t disturb you any longer,” he said hastily.
“You sure? It might be a great opportunity,” Potter grinned. Draco gave him a quizzical look.
“I don’t know,” Potter shrugged, “after two Firewhiskeys you might get the chance to run your hands through my incredibly infuriating, magnificent head of hair.” Potter tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t suppress a snicker. “I might even let you touch my strong and marvellous jawline.”
Never had Draco wished more the ground would open and swallow him up.
“You read it,” he said through gritted teeth. “You had no right.”
“True,” Potter replied, nonchalant. “I’d let you read mine in return, but I don’t keep a diary.” He stepped closer to Draco, studying his face intently.
“You look rather cute when you’re flushed.”
Draco made a sound that was something between a weird gurgle and a high-pitched squeak. Whatever it was, it was highly embarrassing.
Potter chuckled, coming to a halt right in front of Draco.
“I mean, I could just show you what kind of fantasies I’d be writing in that diary,” he said in a low whisper.
Draco gulped, not quite grasping what Potter was saying.
“Like what?” he breathed.
“Hmmm.” Potter’s eyes flickered down to Draco’s lips. “Like how I want to grab you right now and kiss you until you can’t breathe.”
Draco’s mouth opened involuntarily. Breathing was already hard with Potter standing so close to him.
“And then,” Potter continued, deliberately breathing on Draco’s lips, “I’d want your hands on the most delicious and perfect arse you have ever seen in your life.”
Draco groaned loudly. This was just too much. But then again, Potter really seemed to be teasing him in a rather flirtatious way. Trying to conceal his nervousness, he raised his chin and fixed Potter with a glare.
“These better not just be empty promises,” Draco said haughtily.
“Oh, they’re not,” Potter smirked, his eyes gleaming as he started pouring their drinks.