#5 for the drarry prompt thing?? Love your writing!
Thank you!! I have no clue if you meant the concept nr 5 (Yule Ball) or sentence nr 5 (“You’re late”, “You’re stunning”, “you’re forgiven”) from this prompt list, or nr 5 from my old prompt list (which I have already done here) but I’m going with the first ‘cuz I’m in a fancy mood and what better than a Yule Ball?
Partly because he had no date for upcoming Yule Ball - even though it was starting in less than half an hour.
But mostly because there was no one left to ask.
“What about Cho,” Ron offered, straightening his tie in front of the smudged mirror of their common room. If anything he was making it worse, but Harry didn’t have the heart to tell him. “Isn’t she -”
“Already going with Justin Finch-Fletchley,” Harry said miserably.
“Hannah, then.” Ron turned his head to look at him. “Hannah Abbott.”
Harry snorted. “I doubt she’d go with either of us.”
“Yeah, but I, in comparison to you, already have a date, so I, in comparison to you, don’t have to go through desperate measures to get one.”
“Would Hermione hurt me if I murdered you right now?”
Ron barked with laughter. “Considering she’s been doing her hair for three hours, she’d kill you dead.”
Harry groaned again, and flopped on the bed. “I’m the sodding chosen one,” he complained, wanting to just jump off the Gryffindor tower to be done with it all, “and I’m the only bloody person going to this Ball without a date.”
“That isn’t exactly true.”
Harry immediately popped up, his eyes wide and hopeful. “Oh! Who hasn’t -”
“You’re not going to like who it is.” Ron interrupted, his cheerful mood gone.
“Ron, tell me.”
“You’d rather go alone than date this person, trust me.”
Ron sighed long and deep, and said in a tone as if he was predicting Harry’s imminent doom, “Malfoy.”
Harry blinked. Then, blinked again. “What?”
“Malfoy,” Ron croaked, and he grimaced. “I heard from Hermione that she heard from Parvati who heard from Pansy that - well, he hasn’t got a date, too.”
All Harry could do was stare at Ron. “And you are suggesting that I…”
“Well, to be honest, if I were you I’d be going stag,” they both snorted at the same time, but Ron quickly sobered and continued, “but if you’re really, really desperate…”
“I am, but -”
“And you said that…” Ron quickly turned to hide his blush - didn’t work, but Harry was never going to say that - “well, you said last summer that you had.. doubts about your… your feelings towards men -”
This time Harry really, really wanted to jump off the tower. “Yes.”
“And, well, Malfoy is a man -”
“Merlin, Ron.” They were both blushing so hard the entire room felt hotter. “Thanks for being supportive, really, but you do realize you’re suggesting to take Draco Malfoy for a sodding date, right?”
“Well.” Ron cleared his throat, turned around and smiled again. “Live and let live, no? If it saves me the trouble of needing to entertain your arse all night -”
Harry grinned, and flipped him the finger. “Ta, mate.”
Ron curtsied. “My pleasure. Oh, and, Harry?”
“If you are planning to ask him, at all,” he nodded towards the clock hanging above their door, “I’d better hurry, seeing as you’ve only got ten minutes.”
Harry cursed, and quickly bolted out of the room.
It didn’t take him very long to find Malfoy.
Partly because Malfoy was pretty recognizable with his blonde, shining hair, his tall legs that seemed to go on for miles, and the sneer that you could spot from leagues away.
(But mostly because Harry’d had years of practice looking for him.)
“Malfoy,” he finally sighed when he reached him, and unable to contain his enthusiasm, he grinned up (and up and up) at him. “Hi.”
Malfoy looked at his friends - who all shrugged at the same time - and then back at Harry, his face puzzled. “Er, hi? Potter, what do you want?”
“Well,” Harry took a deep breath and said; “I heard from Ron who heard from Hermione who heard from Parvati who heard from Pansy,” he gave a nod towards Parkinson, who just stared at him as if he’d lost his marbles, “that you haven’t got a date for this ball.”
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “I don’t. But what’s it to you?”
“Well, you see,” Harry cleared his throat, “McGonagall asked me to be one of the people to open the dance, she explained why but I forgot -”
Malfoy ignored him, his gaze stuck on Harry with a fierce intensity that should’ve scared Harry.
(But it didn’t.)
“- and, well,” he tried not to blush, “I haven’t got a date, which is kind of a problem, and I realized…”
“That I was your last shot?” Malfoy sneered. “No, thanks, Potter, I don’t fancy being a charity case. Not even for the bloody saviour.” He nudged Parkinson, and growled, “Let’s just go.”
“No! Wait!” Harry quickly jumped, and grabbed Malfoy’s forearm.
They all stilled.
Malfoy just stared at his arm, at Harry’s hand holding him, and then back at Harry’s face with such a torn look on his face, as if he both wanted to run away and hold his hand there forever.
(And honestly, Harry felt the same.)
Harry stepped closer. “Listen,” he said, this time softer for a reason he couldn’t even begin to explain, “yes, I’m desperate. Yes, I should’ve gotten a date earlier. But, Malfoy…” He cleared his throat, wiggled his feet gingerly and looked up (and up and up) to Malfoy’s face.
And Malfoy was blushing.
Sneering, his eyebrows knotted and his eyes on fire, but blushing.
And Harry couldn’t help but smile. “I’d love to go with you to the ball.”
Malfoy stared at him.
“Please?” Harry added, wiggling on his feet again, unable to contain his anxiety and nerves wrecking through his system. “I mean, I don’t want to force you but you’re just - and I’m -”
“Okay,” Malfoy said softly, and he smiled back. It was a small, nervous smile, but it was enough for Harry. “I’ll go with you.”
Harry felt like his face was going to break in two from his wide smile. “Oh! Okay! Good! Well -”
“On one condition.”
Malfoy’s smile turned into a grin, and he leaned in closer, his lips a second away from Harry’s, and he whispered, “If you dare to step on my toes during the dance, I will honest to god murder you and drop your body in the lake.”
“Honestly,” Harry whispered back, “if you wouldn’t, I’d be disappointed.”
And when Malfoy laughed, how could Harry not kiss him for it?
So he did.
(Again, and again, and again, until they were ripped apart by Malfoy’s friends and a booming voice announcing the beginning of the Yule Ball.)
Harry Potter wanted time to stand still.
If only to be in this moment forever, holding Draco Malfoy’s hand tightly in his own, smiling at the crowd because for once in his life he was genuinely happy.
OMG old xian just updated a fanart of tianshan when they are grown up DID YOU SEE IT AAAHHHHHHHH
I’VE SCREAMED SO HARD WHEN I SAW THIS MESSAGE AND I KEPT SCREAMING WHILE RUNNING TO CHECK OLD XIAN WEIBO AND IM STILL SCREAMING NOW THAT IM ON THE FLOOR CLUTCHING MY TABLET TO MY CHEST AND CRYING OVER THAT PICTURE
I’VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING MORE BEAUTIFUL IN MY ENTIRE LIFE SOMEONE COME RETRIEVE MY BODY FROM THE FLOOR THIS IS TOO MUCH
thank you so so much for warning me, anon, you’re a blessing and i love you and i hope you’ll have the most wonderful day!!!!!!