Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

For Yo; written for the help_japan fic auction on Lj.


"Roses, Potter? Really?" Draco asked as he reached out, running the pad of his finger over the nearest bright, red petal. It was soft, delicate; Draco huffed to himself, shaking his head. Those weren't really words he'd usually associate with Potter, at least not in any meaningful way, and really, why in Merlin's name did the man keep a dozen roses on his desk?

"A gift," Potter returned dryly, "from an 'adoring fan.'"

Honestly, the sarcasm was practically dripping off of that, and damn, but Draco really, really needed to stop staring at the man's hands, and the way they were twirling his wand idly, almost lazily, between his fingers. It sent his mind to places he really, really did not need it going, and fuck, how was this even his life?

"-and then Ron happened to let my name slip before we were sufficiently out of range, apparently. So I came back to this," he waved one hand at the flowers, grimacing at them as though they'd gravely insulted him in some way. Draco blinked, jerking his eyes back up to Potter's face to find himself being regarded closely, and dammit, was that amusement in those too-green eyes?

"Yes, well," he flushed, glaring, "I've always known Weasley possessed no tact at all. Honestly, how you've put up with him all these years escapes me."

"He says the same thing about you," Potter replied, shrugging, but Draco didn't miss that grin, and he rolled his eyes. They both new perfectly well that Weasley very much did not approve of Potter 'fraternizing with the enemy,' which, really, just made it all the sweeter to Draco. Some things, he was pleased to note, really didn't change, and it was still a highlight of his day when he could manage to earn his way into Ron Weasley's bad graces. A fact of which Potter was very aware, and didn't try to stop because for some reason, he didn't try to change Draco anymore than he'd already been changed, and that was probably the whole reason for the way Draco's fucking insides twisted themselves all up around the man.

Well, that and how he owed Potter his life so many times over that he'd literally lost count. It was, frankly, disgusting, and he could distantly hear his father being very disappointed in him in his mind, but he really couldn't bring himself to care; not with Potter smiling at him like that, goofy grin, and all, as he picked up his coat, and stepped towards the door, and Draco.

"Malfoy?" He blinked, a little startled to find that face so close to his own, and briefly wondered how it'd gotten there before he noticed the faint hint of worry crawl across Harry's face. He shook himself out of whatever stupor he'd fallen in, and shoved everything back down where it belonged. Merlin, but he was going to get himself into trouble one of these days.

"Yes, Potter?"

Potter stared at him for a moment, calculating, before he apparently decided it wasn't worth it, and Draco could breathe again. He honestly didn't know what was wrong with him, though he was half-tempted to blame it on the roses. The heavy, musky smell of them was doing funny things to his brain, and he really, really needed to get out of here before he did something exceedingly stupid.

"I said," and the bastard was now enunciating each word like Draco was five, "do you want to go Seamus's new pub tonight?" The 'with me' was very obviously tacked on, silently, and this was a very bad, terrible idea.

Which is, of course, the reason Draco said 'yes.'