I Do Not Fancy Draco

I Do Not Fancy Draco

Harry stormed into his dormitory and sat on his bed.

"What's up?" asked Ron, noticing his frustration.

"Draco Malfoy," Harry said, "is a git."

"You can say that again!" laughed Seamus, who was sitting on his bed, combing his hair.

"What did that blonde poof do this time?" asked Dean.

"He called me scar-head," moaned Harry with a hurt expression. Ron, Seamus and Dean exchanged looks. "What?" snapped Harry.

"Well you seem awfully upset for a tiny insult like that." Seamus laughed. "It's not like he's never called you that before."

"Where's Neville?" asked Harry, suddenly wanting to change the subject, and knowing that at least if Neville were here, he might receive a bit of sympathy.

"Don't change the subject," laughed Ron, poking Harry.

"I'm not!" snapped Harry, but he could feel himself blushing as he spoke.

"Oh look he's all of a flutter!" laughed Dean.

"He usually gets that way when we start talking about Malfoy," observed Seamus.

"That's so true!" Ron exclaimed as Harry turned a bright shade of magenta. "Bet he fancies him!" he laughed.

"I do not fancy Draco," Harry replied heatedly. Seamus, Ron and Dean found it hard to muffle their laughter.

"I do noooot fancy Draaaaco!" imitated Seamus, fluttering his eyelashes as he spoke.

"I DON'T!" shouted Harry feeling irritated. "He's a git! I hate him."

"It's okay, we understand," said Ron, nodding his head with wisdom. "There's a fine line between love and hate." Harry knew that they wouldn't stop pestering him until he got violent, so he stormed out of his dormitory, ignoring the calls of Dean, Seamus and Ron, which included "off to snog Draco?"

Harry came down to the common room where Neville was coming in the other end.

"You all right Harry?" asked Neville, noticing Harry's red face and heavy breathing.

"Oh I'm fine!" replied Harry sarcastically. "Apparently I fancy Draco!" Neville stared at Harry for a second, unaware of the sarcastic tone Harry had used.

"Oh," he said, unsure of what to say next. "Well, you know that's okay. To be honest I've always thought you talked about him an awful lot-"

"What?!" Harry yelled. "I was joking for Merlin's sake! I do NOT fancy Draco Malfoy!" And without listening to what Neville had to say, Harry stormed out of the portrait hole and walked down the stairs wondering why on earth anybody would believe that he would fall for somebody like Malfoy. True enough, he was good looking...

"No!" said Harry aloud to himself. "You do not find him good looking. He is a slimy ugly git. You hate him." But even aloud, the words sounded weak and somewhat untrue. Harry shook his head. Quidditch. He thought to himself, desperate to think of something else. Quidditch. Broomsticks. Malfoy riding on a broomstick. Harry sighed. Evidently, it was harder to get that idiot out of his head than he thought. As he walked along the fifth floor corridor, quite unaware of where he was going, he tried something else. Honeydukes. Chocolate. Malfoy eating chocolate. Harry kicked the wall impatiently. Something had to work!

"Dobby!" he said aloud. For a while it worked as Harry thought about Dobby and not Draco. Harry thought about Dobby's lurid yellow socks and what strange clothing he could be wearing now. Suddenly he remembered that Dobby had been Malfoy's old houself. Harry shook his head again. Dumbledore. Harry smiled.

"That works," he said to himself.

Dumbledore's glasses. Dumbledore's toes. Dumbledore's beard. Dumbledore's knees. Dumbledore's ankles. Five minutes later Harry was running out of things to think of yet it was not Draco that made his way back into his thoughts, but the fact that he was lost. Harry checked his watch. It was half-past ten. If Filch found him, he was in trouble. So, with Malfoy cleared out of his mind, Harry made his way through winding corridors, breaking into a sprint every time he heard a noise that indicated Filch might be nearby. A few times, Harry was sure that he was passing the same portrait, and that that statue looked oddly familiar... Reminding himself never to wander off at night without the Marauder's Map with him, Harry took a left and walked into someone. After a few seconds of confusion, Harry recognized who that person was.

"Malfoy?" he whispered. It took Draco a while to register what had happened.

"Potter!" he exclaimed finally, jumping backwards with disgust. "What are you doing here?"

"My business is my own," growled Harry, trying to barge past him.

"Oh I meant no offence," laughed Draco, haughtily. "It's my job to ask questions. Prefect you see." He grinned menacingly, and pointed at his prefect badge that was pinned to his school robes. Harry was reminded forcefully of Percy.

"It just so happens that my two best friends are also prefects," laughed Harry. "I know for a fact that they are to return to their dormitories at 10.00 sharp. No exceptions." Draco stared at Harry with loathing for a few seconds, but before long their silence was broken by footsteps nearby. Draco muttered something and ran off to his right. Harry wanted nothing more than to leave in the opposite direction, yet something made him run after Draco. Before long, Draco stopped. They had reached a dead end. The footsteps were drawing closer very quickly now, and Harry suddenly realised where they were.

"We need somewhere to hide." Harry thought, and there in front of him, a door appeared. Harry burst into the room of requirement which had taken shape of a broomstick cupboard. Draco followed him inside and shut the door hard.

Harry remembered Fred and George telling him about how the room of requirement had also taken shape of a broomstick cupboard when they were trying to escape filch. Draco kicked the wall.

"This is all your fault Potter, if you hadn't started whining like a baby, this wouldn't have happened!"

Harry thought this was so unfair that he didn't even bother to reply. They sat silently for ten minutes in which Harry tried hard not to think of the reason that he was walking around late the castle at night in the first place. At long last, Harry broke the silence.

"I think it's safe. Let's go." Draco nodded, stood up and tried to open the door. "Open the door for Merlin's sake!" pressed Harry. Draco tried again, but the door did not open. Harry knew what had happened; yet, he refused to believe it. "OPEN IT!"

"What?" said Harry. "That you were stupid enough to get yourself locked in a broom cupboard with me?" To his surprise, Draco grinned.

"Yeah. Something like that. Mind you, I'd change the story a bit so it seems like you're the one who got us into this mess."

"Trying to make yourself look superior now are we Draco?"

"Well I am Potter. To you anyway."

"Shut up you imbecile! God, I don't know how the guys could think that I-"

"That you what?" Draco asked, intrigued.

"Those stupid gits think that... well it doesn't matter. What matters is they're wrong. Stupid idiots. It is their fault I left the Gryffindor tower. They were pissing me off alright."

"What were they saying?"

"Never you mind. It's none of your business what we do in our dormitory."

"What you do, eh?" laughed Draco. "This is going to be interesting."

"Don't be sick" growled Harry, chucking a brush at him.

"Cheers," said Draco, and he ate it.

"What the hell?" asked Harry, looking oh so terribly perplexed.

"Now, tell me what those dudes were saying in your dormitory or I'll force-feed you this Flash! Detergent."

Harry wondered if Draco would actually fulfil this threat, however, he didn't want to find out, so he sighed and bowed his head.

"Well, Draco, it all started around three hours ago, when you called me scar head after dinner." Harry paused to sigh dramatically. "I was terribly upset and told my friends what had happened. However, quite on the contrary to myself, they did not find this incident offensive or upsetting. Instead they merely mocked me and said... that... they thought... I was getting too upset over such a minor thing. They then came to the conclusion that I... might have... feelings for you, and..." but Harry was cut off by Draco's sudden shout of laughter.

"You, Potter? Have feelings for me?" he said incredulously.

"Yeah," replied Harry, looking annoyed. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing," Draco said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Well, yeah, that's it," said Harry. "After that I left in frustration, and they all thought I was leaving to have a midnight snogging session with you." Harry inconspicuously tried to look at his watch. For some reason, Malfoy did the same.

"So, I'm a flobberworm," said Draco, his face impassive.

"Eh?" said Harry, rather confused.

"Just joking, I'm not really a flobberworm, can't you tell?" said Draco, looking slightly insulted.

"Yes... quite..." said Harry. "You couldn't possibly be a flobberworm, Draco; you're far too good-looking for that. Why, flobberworms are ugly. You're positively radiant."

Draco beamed at him. "So, fancy a snog, eh?"

Harry was taken aback by this statement that he quite literally fell head over heels. It was quite a stupendous back flip. Draco was impressed.

Harry, scrambling up from the floor, exclaimed, "did you just ask me for a snog?"

"No," said Draco. "I was joking."

"Ah," said Harry, knowingly. "This is another of those flobberworm things, isn't it?"

"No," said Draco. "This is one of those shut up and snog me things. Do you wanna?"

"NO!" said Harry automatically.

"Good, me neither," confirmed Draco. "I was just testing you."

They lapsed into thoughtful silence as Harry contemplated the random and surprising conversation they had just had. He wished Draco would say something. To his surprise, he did.

"Look, Potter," said Draco. "I need to know one thing."

"What?" said Harry.

"Do you fancy me or not?"

"Er," said Harry.

"I need to know if I'm wasting my time."

"Er," said Harry.

"Well?"

"Er," said Harry. He couldn't believe he was having this conversation with Draco Malfoy, the slimiest yet most stunningly attractive person on the planet. "I don't know. Do you fancy me?"

"I guess I could put up with you as my boyfriend," suggested Draco with a grin.

"The grin? What's the grin?" said Harry laughing. Draco ignored this joke and looked at Harry suggestively.

"So you gonna go out with me, or what Potter?" he asked. Harry thought for a second.

"I dunno," he replied.

"Hypothetically speaking of course," Draco added, winking. Harry grinned.

"Well hypothetically, yes," he said. Draco grinned too.

"Great, so it's official. We're dating." As these words lapsed into silence Harry realised how weird they sounded. It was Draco saying them after all. After a few minutes, Draco spoke again.

"Well I'm going to sleep," he said, stretching. Harry was suddenly snapped back into reality.

"Don't you think we should try opening the door again and going back to our dormitory?" he asked, thinking of his nice warm bed and wondering if his friends were wondering where he was.

"You can if you like," said Draco with a twinkle in his eye. "The door is open after all."

"Huh?" asked Harry in surprise. Draco laughed.

"The stuck-in-a-broom-closet scenario sounded like so much fun," he said. "I couldn't help myself."

Harry sat there, open mouthed, unable to say anything. Draco just shrugged and lay down against the wall. "But I'm staying here tonight. Don't fancy getting Filch after me again." Harry nodded slightly and lay down against the opposite wall.

He lay there for a while, unable to stop himself from thinking that is boyfriend wasn't far away. Draco, he thought to himself. My boyfriend. The words sounded powerful even in his mind and he was glad that it was dark because otherwise Draco would be able to see him grinning like an idiot for no apparent reason.

"Any chance of snuggling together for warmth?" asked Harry. Draco grumbled.

"Fuck off, Potter," he said.

"Quite."