For @defiantlilsheep who requested “Draco cant wink. He can do anything and everything but he cant wink. Trust me.” …. this got a bit longer than a tiny Drabble I couldn’t help it!
When Harry had returned for his eighth year at Hogwarts he had absolutely promised himself that if a certain blonde haired pointy git who may or may not have helped save his life but was also most definitely still an arsehole happened to return he would not get himself involved no matter what.
Except, once school started he realized that he had the small matter of returning Malfoy’s wand to handle, so he had to see him. I mean sure he could’ve returned it by owl but that would just been rude. He had to do it person. He had to. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.
He put it off for weeks before finally walking up to him while he was studying outside and both thanking him and apologizing for stealing his wand. And the truth was Malfoy had been so different during the exchange; solemn and pensieve and if he didn’t know better even remorseful. He had told Harry not to apologize, that he was the one who should be sorry. Harry had been so flustered he’d muttered something about studying and nearly tripped on his own feet in his haste to escape the confusing thoughts swirling through his brain and making him feel like he’d been punched in the stomach.
But still, none of that could change the fact that he was still an arse and Harry didn’t care what he did. Or at least that’s what he kept trying to tell himself. He’d always been pretty good at lying to himself, so he hoped it might work this time.
As time went on Harry realized that it was definitely not working.
He couldn’t help but be curious when twice in the same week he walked into an empty loo to find Malfoy making an odd face in the mirror. Both times the other boy had looked horrified at being caught and run away. Although Harry had no idea what exactly he’d caught Malfoy doing.
And that was a problem, because try as he might Harry didn’t like when he didn’t know what was going on. It wasn’t that he was obsessed with Malfoy as a person, he just wanted to know why he seemed so different and what exactly he was doing.
Hermione told him he was nosy and to please promise not to become obsessed with Malfoy again. Harry had promised.
The thing was, he had to admit to himself he’d never actually stopped being obsessed with Malfoy and therefore when he caught himself once again searching him out on the Mauraders Map and following him around under the invisibility cloak or ducking around dark corridors he figured he wasn’t actually breaking his promise. You couldn’t exactly start doing something again if you’d never really stopped doing it in the first place.
Harry swore he would only do it a few times, just until he figured out what the other boy was up too. The problem was he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he was doing.
Harry knew he was getting sloppy, knew he was being obvious, but by the second term he just couldn’t help himself. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, being away from Malfoy. And the odd faces he kept catching him making in bathroom mirrors and suits of armor had gone from weird and perplexing to confusing and adorable. Which was more than a little unsettling.
Harry however, had no excuse when he caught himself trying to figure out what kind of tea Malfoy was drinking at breakfast, or what his Potions partner said that made his lips curl up in a soft smile, or what kind of books he was reading when he sat hidden in the corner of the library pretending to study potions and thought no one could see him.
It was a bright and sunny morning. Harry had snuck out of the castle early to get a bit of flying before classes started.
The sky was so clear and the weather was just perfect for flying. Only instead of being happy to be up in the air, Harry’s only thought was of how much he wished Malfoy was up there with him, challenging him to the snitch.
It was at that exact moment that Harry realized he wasn’t obsessed with Malfoy.
He was falling in love with him. And that was definitely worse. Much worse.
“Potter!” Malfoy yelled, grabbing the back of Harry’s robe and dragging him into a darkened alcove behind a rather rusty suit of armor.
“Oi - watch it, Malfoy.”
“Watch it? Watch it?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” He shrieked and Harry had the decency to shrink back a little bit.
“You’re the one who won’t stop watching! Everywhere I look there you are! Always skulking about and staring me and interrupting me when I’m trying to- well it doesn’t matter what I’m trying to do the point is you’re a world class nuisance like always and I can’t concentrate when you’re constantly following me around like a lost kneazle.”
Harry blinked a few times then smiled, which was clearly not what Malfoy was expecting because the look of confusion on his face was priceless.
“You find me distracting?” Harry asked curiously, smiling again when Malfoy began backing up as Harry walked forward.
“Of course you’re distracting, Potter. You bumble around noisily like the obnoxious twat you are. I don’t know how you could possibly think I hadn’t noticed you. You’re everywhere, making a nuisance of yourself.”
Harry couldn’t help but notice the way Malfoy’s fingers were curling as he talked, the sweat building on his brow, and the way his breathing was quickening. To anyone else it looked like Malfoy was angry, but Harry wasn’t anyone else. He’d spent the better part of the last few months doing nothing but watching him and this wasn’t angry this was something else entirely; it was arousal. He was sure of it.
Or pretty sure of t at least. Sure enough to take a chance.
“So then Malfoy, what exactly are you up to? If you tell me I promise to stop following you.”
“So you admit you’ve been following me!” Malfoy shouts, putting his hands on Harry’s chest and shoving him gently. But it’s not aggressive, not even a little bit, and Harry just grins mischievously.
“Are you trying to get my attention?”
Malfoy splutters. “I most certainly am not!”
“Yes you are. Admit it.”
“I was not trying to get your attention I was trying to learn to wink!”
Harry stops at that. Quirking his head to the side. “To wink?”
Malfoy looks embarrassed now, smoothing down the front of his robes and staring at his feet.
“I can’t wink. I saw you wink at that Weasley girl during the first quidditch match of the season and I figured if you could do it so could I. Except I can’t and I look like a right tosser trying! Are you happy now?!”
“I could teach you.”
“Teach me? Teach me?!” He all but shrieks starting to sound a bit hysterical.
“It’s not hard, Malfoy. I can teach you….if you want me to.”
They’re so close now Harry can see Malfoy’s pupils dialating, so close their lips would be touching if he just moved forward a bit, angling his head up.
Malfoy seems to have realized the same thing because he kicks his lips, blinking a few times before muttering “Alright fine, teach me how to blink. Let me have it, Potter.”
Harry isn’t sure what posseses him but at those words he feels some of his self control snap and he leans upwards to close the distance between them, pressing their lips together.
Draco’s lips are cold and chapped and he taste almost bitter like earl grey tea without enough sugar. He smells like fresh air and parchment and the blueberry scones the house elves had sent up for tea today. It’s new and familiar all at one and Harry doesn’t think he’s ever felt more exhilarated in his life, until Draco’s shock wears of and he’s kissing him back fiercely, pulling him closer and sliding his hands into Harry’s hair almost desperately.
Harry would be embarrassed at the whimpering moans of desperation he’s making, but Draco is making them right back so he can’t be arsed to worry about it.
Much later after the desperation has turned softer, they stand there with their foreheads pressed together, out of breath but full of hope.
“So, did you still want me to teach you how to wink?” Harry all but whispers. He’s surprised when Draco just starts to laugh.
“If you must know I was only trying to learn in order to get your attention.” He seems a bit embarrassed at his admission, but something about it warms Harry’s heart.
“I knew it! You were trying to get my attention and you were up to something.”
“God you’re an wanker, Potter,” he mumbles, reaching his hands around Harry’s body to rest just above his arse.
“Well yeah…but at least now I’m your wanker.”
“Yeah?” Draco asks, a genuine smile on his face.
“Definitely,” Harry says, and he winks at him for good measure.
Draco groans, spinning them around to switch their positions and slamming Harry back against the wall, pressing their bodies together and kissing him with such intensity Harry feels like he might faint.
Oh yes Harry thinks with pleasure as Draco’s mouth attaches itself to his neck, there will definitely be a lot more winking in his future.