Author's Note: Are you guys still with me?
Drop everything now,
meet me in the pouring rain—
Of all the fucking days. Draco rolled over on his side, blindly pawing at the air to stop the infernal noise blaring from the alarm clock, without success.
Kiss me on the sidewalk,
take away the pain,
cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile—
"Bloody love songs," Draco grumbled, throwing his pillow over his ears in wait, hoping that one of the other boys might turn it off before him. The song only continued.
Get me with those green eyes baby,
as the lights go down,
give me something that'll haunt me when you're—
BAM! There was a loud fizzle, then silence.
Finnigan and Finch-Fletchley got up to find Draco sitting upright, his wand pointed fumingly at a smoking, smashed alarm clock.
"What the hell, Malfoy? You could have just turned it off," Finch-Fletchley muttered, running a hand through his buttery blond locks and staring at the wreckage in disbelief.
"Yeah, and that wasn't yours to obliterate. Now you owe me 19.99 for that," Finnigan added. Then he frowned. "Actually, make it a few galleons. I'd rather have some spending money for when we go back."
"Sorry," Draco mumbled, stashing his wand back under his pillow. "The song was just so infuriating."
And it really had been. Why did these stupid muggles feel the need to sing about every damn thing that happened in their lives? It's not like they were anything spectacular anyways. Who cares? Draco didn't. And he'd rather be a House Elf's slave for a day than meet somebody in the pouring rain. Really, who the hell does that sort of shit?
He shook his head, carefully smoothing out his blankets and making his bed for the day. Absently, he noticed that Potter was not in bed, yet again. The boy kept sneaking off places in the middle of the night, disappearing at random times, making dumb excuses to leave class. Really, it was like they hadn't even left Hogwarts. He could just imagine Potter's scruffy head of hair popping out from behind an alcove, his brilliant green eyes roaming the area excitedly—
Draco bit his lip. Not that he cared about those eyes at all. He thought of the song again and how the muggle singer had absolutely praised the power of that particular colour. What was so great about green eyes anyways? He never heard anybody singing about grey eyes. What made green better than grey? It was actually sort of insulting. Draco sighed and finished making his bed, then sat down on it and watched Finch-Fletchley and Finnigan move to do the same with theirs.
In truth, they really wouldn't have anything to do for a while, except sit here. Because it was 4 in the morning, for Merlin's sake, and they didn't need to wake up until 6. A revolting time of the day, since it was too early to try and get anything coherent done, but too late to get back into bed and fall asleep. Draco scowled. Obviously, some stupid bastard forgot to turn off the alarm.
"By the way, nice job setting the clock Malfoy," Finnigan muttered, and Draco could only blush and glower at the floor, remembering that it was indeed he that had done it the previous night.
He was still slightly pink when they all went down to breakfast hours later, now with Potter in tow. At least, for a couple of minutes anyway. The boy had looked distracted and sleep-deprived as he rushed into the hall, grabbed an apple, and then rushed back out. Draco rolled his eyes and sat in his usual seat, shooting a tired grimace at his roommates as they went to sit in their respective places.
"Whoa, what's gotten into you three?" Blaise asked, glancing over at Draco, Finch-Fletchley, and Finnigan with a frown. "Looks like you got run over by a train or something."
"Or something," Finnigan remarked. He jerked his thumb in Draco's direction. "Sunshine here set the alarm for four in the morning, and we haven't slept since."
Blaise snorted, and Draco hmmphed in annoyance. "I said I was sorry, didn't I? And you better not call me that repulsive name ever again, Finnigan."
"Hello Sunshine, how's it hanging Sunshine, lovely, lovely Sunshine," Finnigan insisted, laughing and ducking from Draco's rising hand, "I'll call you whatever I damn please. You owe me."
"You know, it's actually sort of catchy," Finnigan added, an uncharacteristic half-smirk on his face. "And it's pretty cute."
Draco glared at him and Finnigan, as the other boy was still laughing. Had he known at the beginning that these boys would get so comfortable around him to the point of friendly teasing over the school year, he would have never let his guard down for a second. He could only imagine what his little 5th year self might have thought about him sitting here at a table, being laughed at by a former Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. He would have a fit!
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, with an eye roll. That was all he could manage now. Merlin, he was getting soft.
"It's true, you are cute, Draco," a nauseating, familiar female voice piped up from behind him.
He turned around, an icy glare already formed on his face. Why didn't this bitch just give up already? "I'm sorry, I don't believe that you were a part of this discussion," Draco managed slowly, keeping his voice controlled and his body stiff in efforts not to jump up and hex her right then and there.
The small group remained in hushed silence around them, watching the two with tense uneasiness. Practically everyone here knew that Annie was the cause of Draco and Potter's mysterious riff, and they were undoubtedly curious as to what was going on.
The brunette girl only smiled, flashing her pearly white, pointy teeth effectively. It reminded Draco of a feral cat, and he shuddered. "I realise that you and I haven't gotten the chance to properly get to know one another yet. I think that's silly, so I should just come out and ask you if you want to be my lab partner today for chemistry."
Draco gave her a disgusted look. This girl was obviously daft. Because honestly, what the hell was wrong with her? "I've got a partner already, thanks," he replied coldly, putting a steady hand on Finnigan's shoulder and causing the other boy to raise his eyebrows in surprise. Thankfully, he just went with it. "And even if I didn't, I wouldn't work with you if you were the last person on this planet. So please, get lost. Preferably where you can never find me again."
The girl turned around and walked away, but there was still a smile lingering on her face. It was then that Draco realised that he would need to do a lot better than that to truly convince Annie that he would never care for her. He groaned and returned to his breakfast moodily, attempting to come up with possible ideas in his muddled up brain.
It had been so worth it.
Draco clutched a tiny, white slip between his fingers and grinned as he walked down the empty hallway towards the principal's office, whistling absently. Annie had been so wrong to mess with him today, seeing as he had little sleep and little patience. Plus, Malfoys were not ones to be messed with in general. And now she knew that.
He gleefully recalled the incident that had happened only a few minutes before when Draco's experiment had "accidentally" exploded, causing Annie (who had chosen to sit in front of him, stupid bint) to be caught in the chaos. She had freaked out, of course, screaming and crying before throwing her head into the classroom sink. It had been rather hilarious to watch. Unfortunately she was fine afterwards, but half her head of hair had been burnt off as a result, and so he supposed that the sheer ridiculousness of her new look would have to be enough for now.
Draco smiled again. Bye bye, brunette. Bitch had it coming. And that explosion was absolutely spectacular, he was so glad that he had chosen Finnigan as his lab partner. Even though the boy didn't particularly do anything that he wouldn't have normally done, Draco owed the Irish lad his life for his accidental pyromatic skills.
Instead of going into the office, Draco headed straight towards the exit, turning the slip to ashes in his left palm effortlessly. There was no way that he was actually going to get into any sort of trouble for this. He knew that Snape wouldn't go into the matter too much, as Draco was his godson and favourite student. The professor had looked quite pained to give Draco the slip in the first place.
He made his way to his regular bench outside overlooking the soccer field, slumping down in his seat and sighing in contentment. He was not one to simply skip his classes, but he figured that today would be an all right exception. Draco thought back to the chaos in chemistry class, the smell of burnt hair, the crazy look on Annie's face. At one point, he had even snuck a peek at Potter, who had been stifling back a barrel of giggles, his eyes shining bright with amusement at the situation. And even though he no longer spoke to the boy, he felt that that had been a shared moment of revenge for the both of them. For the pain and disorder and tension it had caused them.
But he knew that it would only be a temporary relief. Draco understood that Annie was the cause of the problem, but she wasn't the root of it, because the root of it had been there ages before she had, years even. Draco and Potter were both too stubborn, too prideful, too determined to put feelings first, and it was those attitudes that would forever be the downfall of them. Because maybe they would try and be friends again, maybe they would even become more. But it would always come down to the same problem, the downfall of a relationship that would never really work in the first place. And the thought of it made Draco undeniably sad.
Just then, a flash of colour by the field caught Draco's eye, and he glanced down sharply. Potter was standing there, waving his arms around and speaking into his little mobile. The boy had some sort of bright parchment with him, and he seemed slightly exasperated as he shouted into the speaker. Draco wondered idly how Potter had escaped Snape's class. Surely the man would have kept an extra eye on the mischievous bespectacled boy. Draco eyed Potter suspiciously as he paced around the area, standing at certain spots and marking something on a clipboard, and afterwards making sphere shapes with his hands as some sort of measurement towards the ground. Draco frowned. What the hell was he doing?
Draco shook his head and stood up, careful not to let Potter see him as he walked away aimlessly. He honestly didn't know where else to go, seeing as he wasn't particularly keen on going back to class, or back to his dorm room. He hadn't tried to visit his parents since last time either, so that was also out of the question. And now his favourite spot had been taken over by Potter as well. Merlin, that boy is truly the bane of my existence, Draco thought bitterly, kicking at the fresh, green grass beneath his feet.
The spring air was crisp, morning fog still covering the skies and the sun that surely hid behind it. Draco shivered and pulled his jumper closer around him, wishing that he could wear his heavy robes right now. Really, it was quite inconvenient, the way that these muggles dressed. He could not wait to go back home and wear what he wanted to wear again, and not to mention say and do what he wanted to again. It was rather exhausting having to hide the fact that he was a wizard for a large portion of the day.
Draco looked around, realising that his legs had taken him back to his dorm building, and he sighed. The windows to most of the rooms were shut and dark, but there was one up on his level that was open and light. Draco then remembered that Nott didn't go to his classes all the time, and decided to go pay him a visit. It's not like he had anything better to do anyways. He entered the building, careful not to let the administrators at the front desk see him, and darted up the stairs to his floor. Nott's door was shut, but Draco could see the sliver of light on the ground and he knocked quietly. The door swung open immediately and Nott was indeed there, gazing at Draco in surprise.
"Hey, mate. Aren't you supposed to be in class?"
Draco smirked, pushing past the other boy gently and entering the room. "Aren't you?" he countered.
Nott grinned back. "Touché." He shut the door and made his way across the room towards a small white box, which he opened and pulled a drink out of. "Soda?"
Draco made a face, recognising it as some sort of muggle delicacy that he had yet to try. It didn't look terrible, but he wasn't going to take his chances. "Um, that's okay. I'm good."
Nott shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said, popping the cap off and taking a large swig of it himself. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve afterward and then proceeded to sit down on the bed. "So, what brings you here today?"
Draco joined him. "I don't know. I'm just bored, is all."
"Heard you set some girl on fire. S'true?"
"Where'd you hear that?"
Nott pulled his mobile from his pocket and tapped it with a finger. "Blaise was rather excited about it. Sent a mass message out to most of the people on our floor, though I reckon many of them were in that class."
Draco snorted. "Typical."
"Why did you do it anyways? Just having a bit of a laugh?"
"Yes, and other reasons."
Nott raised his eyebrows. "Like?"
"Like, I don't happen to like her very much."
"Ooh. Annie whats-her-face."
Draco peered at him curiously. "Did Blaise tell you that too?"
"Nah. I just know that you don't like her. Because of the thing with Potter, or something."
Draco cleared his throat in discomfort. "Well, yeah. And I don't know, it's complicated. She's just a bitch."
"She's not very bright, from what I've heard. Anyways," Nott set down his drink and got up to retrieve something from a nearby desk, "I've been told to give this to you when I had the chance. They're tickets for the upcoming soccer match."
Draco tentatively took the envelope that Nott handed him. "Uh, who told you to give these to me?"
Draco raised an eyebrow. "And since when do you take orders from Longbottom?"
Nott scowled. "I'm not taking orders, I'm just doing him a favour. Besides, it'll be fun. It's the championship game and lots of us are going to see it."
Draco's stomach churned at the thought of having to go watch Potter run around and be the natural superstar that he was. He had avoided going to matches ever since their little tiff, making excuses by saying that he didn't like the sport very much or that he really wasn't in the mood to go. And while that was all mostly true, he knew that the excuses wouldn't work forever and clearly, Longbottom had figured that as well.
"You know I don't fancy soccer much," Draco tried, already half-expecting the disapproving shake from the other boy.
"Nonsense. You used to go to every game before your fight with Potter. Come on, it's not like you even have to talk to him or anything, he's going to be playing. It'll be a good time, I promise."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine, all right. I'll go. But I'm not going for him, or for anyone else. I'm going because I damn well want to."
Now it was Nott's turn to roll his eyes. "Right."
The two of them lounged back on the bed, idly discussing this and that for a couple of hours. Draco left right before school let out, wanting to catch Finch-Fletchley or Finnigan when they came back into their room. Just because he missed classes didn't mean that he wasn't going to get his homework done on time. He was a Malfoy, after all, and Malfoys always got perfect marks.
Gods, this was a stupid game. This was such a stupid game. Why did he agree to go to this thing again? Draco shivered in his seat, wishing that he could go sit on his bench and away from these people who were cheering on the soccer team with shouts and screams and other things that were just plain obnoxious. Really. It was all just incredibly stupid. And it wasn't due to the fact that Potter was clearly kicking some serious arse out there, his mop of hair flopping around his eyes, which were glowing and taking no notice of Draco's presence at all. Not in the slightest. But that didn't really put Draco in a better mood, either.
He rolled his eyes at Weasley, the utter epitome of stupid game behaviour, who was jumping up and down for his friend and yelling encouragements, all while holding Granger's hand and stuffing mountains of food down his throat. The sight was quite revolting, actually. Draco was starting to plot ways that he could escape back to the dorm without one of his friends seeing and bringing him back to the game. But unfortunately, he hadn't discovered an effective one yet, and now Blaise and Pansy were keeping an unusually sharp eye on him.
Draco watched sullenly as Potter kicked around the white and black checkered ball between his feet before sprinting towards the goal at maximum speed, never once losing it. And as the game wore on, it went like this. The other team's centre forward was quite a challenge though, and he scored goals every other time that Potter did. The way that Potter's eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened reminded Draco of the way that they used to play Quidditch together, rivaling over the snitch rather than a soccer ball, and he suddenly wished that it were he that Potter was competing against instead of that other unnamed boy. Just so that Potter would look at him again, like that or in any way. Like they could go back in time, erase all the things that had happened between them since they had arrived here, and start over. And wouldn't that just be perfect?
It was nearing the end of the game, and both sides were tied. Potter had the ball between his feet again, dribbling it as effortlessly as ever, but the other forward was gaining on him quick. And although Draco wouldn't admit it to anybody out loud, he was on the edge of his seat, waiting with baited breath and wide eyes.
Potter was already halfway across the field, so fast that his body almost appeared to be a blur in Draco's eyes, and his leg bent back, muscles tensing, to kick the ball into the goal and win the game for them. But just as he was about to do the deed, the dark-haired boy stopped and put his arms up.
There was a flurry of whispers and voices as people tried to figure out what he was doing.
"What's going on?"
"Can he do that?"
Draco sighed and leaned back expectantly, waiting for whatever it was that Potter was going to do. Of course he can do that, he's Harry Potter, he thought, with a bit of dry amusement.
Potter gathered his team, giving them short nods and pats on the back before quietly asking for the microphone from the announcer, who gave it to him with a bewildered expression. Draco watched with curiousity as the team members took a large bag of soccer balls and began to spread them around the field in an organised manner.
"Sorry to interrupt the game, folks," Potter said cheerily into the microphone, causing the murmurs to die down and people to listen. A spotlight fell on his broad figure, making it easier to see him in the dimming light of the evening. "But there's something that I've got to do before I win this thing."
The boy winked cheekily and then turned around to face his team members, who had all stopped moving around the field and now stepped back to reveal their masterpiece. Draco stared down at the display in shock. Each one of the soccer balls were painted a brilliant, emerald green, and were arranged in large block letters that spelled out one word. He gaped at it for a few moments, not realising that Potter had moved from the centre of the field until he was almost blinded by the sudden ray of light shining blindingly in his face.
Draco squinted up to find the boy standing right in front of him, smiling so sweetly that it reached his eyes. "Draco," Potter murmured softly, and his heart almost burst at the sound of his name coming from that mouth.
There was a slight gasp in the audience as Potter pulled out a single red rose from behind him and held it out for the other boy. Even Potter's teammates were staring at them with astonishment, as evidently the green-eyed boy had not told them whom he had been directing his gesture at.
Potter cleared his throat. "I know that you're angry with me, and I know that you might not want to have anything to do with me right now. But please, please just give me this one chance to prove that I can be better. And I promise, I can be better," he shifted his feet nervously and placed the plant in Draco's unmoving hand. "It's true that I've made mistakes, and you've made mistakes too. But that doesn't mean that we can't fix them together. And I know that this is sort of silly, but I thought that it might be a good place to start."
Draco stared at the rose lying in his palm, and then back down at the word spelled out with soccer balls on the field.
He looked back up at Potter, his heart suddenly racing with anticipation and a bit of fear.
"So with that, I must ask the question. Draco Malfoy, will you go to prom with me?"
Author's Note: Yay, prom! All right, and there you have it. A bit of a romantic gesture on Harry's part. Sorry that this is sort of a shorter chapter, I didn't want to drag it out too long. I know that I'm tired of writing bitter Draco and sad Harry, and you're probably tired of reading it, so hopefully we'll get somewhere in the next chapter. And I know that I wrote this entire chapter in Draco's POV, but I didn't particularly want you guys figuring out what Harry's plan was until the end ;) (if you hadn't figured it out already)
Anyways, so the song at the beginning was Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift, because I thought that it might be a cute idea to reintroduce her music as an unwelcoming alarm in the morning for Draco. And of course, I had to incorporate the green eyes thing.
And the part with Annie and the explosion, I rather enjoyed writing. It was something that I had previously discussed with my friend amateurwrit, (this is a shout out!) and I think it's wonderful because I love revenge. Okay, that's enough for now. Thank you all for reading, and hope you enjoyed! I'll be back, sooner or later xoxo