Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and don't intend on making any money with this story.
Warnings: Slash (don't like, don't read), bad language (I'm not even sure I used any, but just to be safe), unbeta-ed, Harry's POV
A/N: I wanted to characterise a little bit more Draco, by making him more childish (which is really how I see him in the books) and I wanted to show Harry's Slytherin side a little (him being sneaky, cunning and plotting), but keeping his Gryffindor's side as well... I'm not sure I managed.
Please be sure to point out any spelling mistakes you see, and please please review! Depending on the feedback, I might write Draco's POV.
At first, I wrote a story that was a lot more serious, with more feelings involved, but it really wasn't the atmosphere I was looking for. I might publish the other one as well soon.
I hope you enjoy reading the story! (REVIEEEW! * v *)
"Potter, go out with me!" The letter read. Malfoy, all the way across the Great Hall, in the Slytherin table, was smirking. Again, one of his tricks. Did he seriously think I couldn't recognise his handwriting? Or at least, did he seriously think I couldn't see him smirking and looking this way?
I ripped it into pieces and went back to talking to Ron, who was currently wolfing down half the scones of the Gryffindor table. Malfoy had the decency of looking surprised.
"Potter, go out with me, please?" The second letter read, the morning after. The last word looked small and smudged. That made me smile a bit. How very Malfoy-ish of it. Malfoy was looking at me, with half a smirk.
If he wanted to trick me, he could at least write a proper love letter. I ripped it into pieces. Malfoy looked surprised, and then thoughtful.
"Again, a love letter, Harry?" asked Hermione, looking away from the Profet for the first time since we came to the Great Hall.
"Hopefully better than the two other letters..." I answered, as I opened the parchment and read the third letter.
"Potter, I like you, please go out with me?" Some kind of improvement, but still veeery lacking. And the "please" was still too small. I ripped it into pieces and burnt them. I sighed. He would hopefully get tired of it soon. Malfoy's face told me otherwise.
"Do you know who they are from?" inquired Hermione.
"Absolutely no idea." I answered, managing to hold a straight face.
"Potter, please answer my letter, can you go out with me?" I read, as I chewed my treacle tart. I didn't really want to play this game with him. Then again, I knew what he planned, and he, really, was way too naive to think that I wouldn't be able to guess. A slow smirk started to spread on my lips, but I concealed it quickly. Malfoy was, after all, still watching.
I ripped the letter and on one of the pieces, I wrote a quick "Write a proper love letter and I might just stop ripping your letters apart. No promise on the going out part" and gave it to the owl that had been ordered to wait for an answer. I watched it fly out towards the owlery. Of course, the owl wouldn't go straight to the Slytherin table, Malfoy couldn't possibly have me guessing he was the one writing the letters.
Later on that day, in the library, I saw Malfoy, quill in hand, deep in conversation with Zabini, both of them bent over a piece of paper.
I smiled to myself, thinking that maybe, just maybe, tomorrow I'd get a decent love letter.
It was. It was decent. Not a good one, but a decent one. And the "please" had a normal size.
I am terribly sorry for the last love letters, they weren't very good. Accept my formal apologies.
It is just that lately, I haven't been able to keep you out of my mind, so much that I can't even write proper love letters.
But be sure of one thing : I love you. Merlin knows how much I could do for you. I'd fight a dragon for you. I'd go into the Forbidden Forest to pluck the prettiest flower of them all, the one that even the unicorns find beautiful.
Would you please consider going out with me?
A shy person"
I contained my laughter. "keep you out of my mind"? Probably not in a romantic sense.
I took my quill and wrote back. He had tried to make an effort, after all. "Dear shy person, this doesn't really feel like your writing style. Did you ask for help? I sincerely hope not, after all, this is very personal. You still haven't convinced me of your feelings."
Later on that day, I saw Malfoy on his own in the library, writing tomorrow's letter. He had a book open that read "Best wizarding love letters of all time", and he was muttering "I will make you say yes. You will be amazed by this one. You will fall head over heels. And then I will laugh at you."
Malfoy, Malfoy... Silly and easy to see through. I left silently, snickering to myself. 'That is not quite what is going to happen, Malfoy.' I thought.
I snorted. It was horrible compared to the last one. Who even wrote this kind of poem anymore?
You are completely right, I did get help for the last one. I am writing this one on my own:
Roses are red, violets are blue,
you may not know this but I'm falling for you
Please be my boyfriend.
Malfoy looked confident. I snorted again. I took my quill and answered.
"Dear shy person,
Violets aren't blue. They're violet.
I discovered that Malfoy read my answers in Moaning Myrtle's toilets. Okay. I may have followed Malfoy with the Marauders' Map and my invisibility cloak. But I really wanted to see his reaction.
He crumpled my letter after reading it.
It seems poems don't work with you, so I am just going to say what I love about you.
I love your eyes, because they're green.
How predictable. He liked my Slytherin green eyes. He really should make an effort.
"Dear shy person,
Thank you, but you really should elaborate a little bit. If you had grey eyes and I said 'I love your grey eyes', you wouldn't really fall in love with me. However, you would have liked it a lot more if I had said :
'I am lost in your eyes every time I look at them. It is as if you kept a storm in your eyes that captures anyone that looks at them. They are mesmerising, I want to kiss them every time I see them.'
I couldn't wait to see his reaction! And oh, was I right to have followed him! He blushed a pretty pink colour.
"Lucky guess..." he muttered.
I sniggered silently to myself and went back to the Gryffindor's dorm. I missed the small smile that played on Draco's lips.
"Harry! It's the third time I call you!" piped Hermione.
"Wha-what?" I answered. I had been completely lost in thought. I was expecting a love letter.
"What are you going to do about tomorrow's homework?" she asked.
"What homework?" I said, distractedly.
"Potion's! Even Ron has finished it!"
"Hey what does that-" complained Ron, but Hermione kept going.
"Lately you're always distracted! Always waiting for your mysterious love letters... You don't do anything else! You sneak out at night – and I know you do-, you're always lost in thought, sighing and smirking to yourself. You don't do your homework with us and you don't even notice when we speak to you anymore!"
She looked upset. I turned to look at Ron, hoping for support.
"She's right, mate" admitted Ron, guiltily.
"Stop pining over that mysterious person and go out with them!" She finished, crossing her arms.
I was... dumb-founded to say the least. Yes, I had been playing the game with Draco, but I was also with them. And I did do my homework with them, the last time we did was... er... was... Hmm... It was true that I hadn't really spent much time with them lately and that I did my homework at the last minute because I was busy spying on Draco. Maybe I was having a little too much fun with the game. But that did not mean I was pining over him. 'I just find him amusing. He tries so hard and doesn't give up, even though I keep saying no, and his letters are pathetically cute, in a weird sort of way, and' –
My thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Draco's owl. I opened the letter eagerly, and read.
You have very pretty eyes. They are emerald green. I am lost in them for they are mesmerising.
Please, please, please be mine.
He had used the same words I had, but he had written "please" three times. I mean, he was even begging now! I smiled a little and then buried my face in my hands. His attempts at writing love letters were adorable. I glanced at him. His puzzled expression was adorable. His hair was adorable, his eyes – oh, his eyes – they were beautiful, and adorable. How could I have missed it? How had I not noticed I was falling for him? How had I let myself be carried away by Draco's game? And since when had I started calling him Draco in my head?
I uttered a moan, and Ron and Hermione looked at me with twin knowing expressions.
"Why don't you go talk to them? You do know who is sending the letters, right?" Hermione asked.
"... Maybe you're right. I should go talk to them... The game has lasted long enough." I answered, sighing. After all, I had always preferred actions to words.
So I decided to ambush him the next time he went to the owlery.
That happened the following morning, very early (even Hermione was asleep!). I had put a charm on the Marauder's Map to wake me up when Draco Malfoy left the Slytherin's dorms, so I rushed to the owlery as soon as I heard the alarm and arrived before him by a few minutes. I waited for him, and caught the slight surprise in his face when he saw me, seeping from under his Slytherin mask.
"What Potty, waiting for a love letter?" he asked in a mocking tone.
"Actually, waiting for you. It's about your love letters." I said, matter-of-factly.
"Wh-what are you talking about? What love letters? I haven't written any love letters, especially to you." He was obviously panicking, to be lying so noticeably.
"Malfoy... I knew since the very beginning. I can recognise your handwriting, you know."
"Many people have my writing style! You're mad if you think these love letters are mine!" he denied, blushing a little.
"Well... I found them pretty sweet." I answered, with a crooked smile.
"... You did?" He sounded confused... But also touched.
"Yes. The way you asked for Zabini's help, the way you spent hours writing the letters, the way you hid in Moaning Myrtle's toilet to read my answers..." I answered, with half a smirk.
Draco looked mortified.
"You are wrong! I wrote these letters, but only to mock you!"
Well, that stinged. I had thought that maybe he had changed his mind about me...
"Oh." I paused awkwardly. "Um… Right. I- I thought that maybe you..."
Malfoy stared at me gaping. He then added, triumphantly. "Of course not, Potty! Ha! It seems that it worked."
Ouch. That crushed my heart a little.
"Uum... Right. I-I'll just leave."
And then, just as I was turning to leave, he looked away, and I could read a hurt expression on his face. Hope began to grow in my heart once again. It was all the proof I needed.
I stopped, and turned back towards him.
"Are you sure about that? Do you really not have anything to say to me?"
"I -er- no." He stammered. He was panicking, avoiding my eyes and blushing.
Of course I couldn't count on a Slytherin to be brave...
"Well, Draco..." I said, as I got close to him. His eyes landed on my face - on my smile - at the use of his first name. His breath caught. He couldn't keep his eyes from my mouth. I got close enough to be a breath away from his lips. My heartbeat sped from anticipation, but I was also starting to panick. What if this wasn't what he wanted? What if I had misread him?
"... I say 'Yes'." I finished. Yes I love you. Yes I will go out with you. Please, please, don't turn me down.
He closed the gap.