Harry tapped his foot repeatedly on the floor as he did whenever he felt nervous -- a habit that irritated Hermione to no end. With a fingernail bitten down between two rows of perfect white teeth, he spared the clock on the wall a glance.

Thoughts ran through his mind with the speed of the wind. The reason behind his distress, you may ask? He started to think that,

Maybe this was a bad idea. A date with Malfoy, really Harry? Bloody hell, what was I thinking?

Harry took a sip from his cup and gulped it down too quickly, he almost choked himself to death before the time of his date even arrived.

"Harry, will you quit that?" Every person that has encountered Hermione Granger in their lives knew it was not a question.

Harry muttered a 'sorry' and stopped his foot from moving another millimetre.

The bushy-haired witch from across him shifted, putting her book aside and throwing a leg on top of the other. She cleared her throat.

"Do pull yourself together, Harry. After all, it's going to be only a few hours, if not one. You said it yourself."

Harry pursed his lips, not finding enough desire to give a response. Hermione sighed.

"Besides, I believe this is not the old Malfoy we went to school with. I heard a lot of people said he has changed," said Hermione, giving her friend a comforting smile.

Harry fought the urge to scoff. "That's because his business won't look good if he keeps being an arse to everyone," he mumbled.

Hermione, obviously having to have heard the comment, frowned. "Harry, you said it yourself that he's changed for the better last week. Remember? When you told me all about it without sparing a detail?"

Harry pouted, his cheeks blossomed a faint pink shade. A memory from last week entered his mind. Ron sure as hell didn't miss the opportunity to poke fun at him, saying his obsession with the blond git had resurfaced.

"Yeah, right. But I changed my mind, no one could change that fast, Hermione! And last week, we only chatted for like, what, 20 minutes?"

"That's enough time."

"Hermione!"

Hermione rubbed at her nose bridge, a habit Ron and Harry had noticed her doing every time they upset her -- almost every day.

A sigh went out of the witch's lips. Her face suddenly picked up a stern look that Harry knew all too well not to oppose a single thing she's about to say.

"Just relax and do not bring up anything unsuitable to discuss in a date, and you'll have him taking you home." Harry nodded, although finding it not helpful at all at the moment.

Suddenly, a frown formed on his face, knitting his dark eyebrows into one. "Take me...home?"

Ron smothered a snigger from beside him. "Where else?" It was by far the longest time he stayed silent without uttering a word. Harry had almost missed hearing his voice. Almost.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yes, home. Or do you prefer him taking you back to his instead?" Hermione asked, failing to fight the tiny tug of her lips that ruined her serious image.

"Godric, no!" Hermione arched her brown sculpted eyebrow.

Harry raised a brow back at her in a challenge. "What makes you assume he'll be taking me home? Not the other way around?" he asked, slightly offended.

"Would you have it the other way around?"

"Don't answer my question with a question!"

Ron laughed, and so did Hermione, a small chuckle she usually gave him whenever he found something confusing.

"Well?" Harry prompted, growing a little impatient by the second. Even more when Ron and Hermione exchange that sickening, knowing look that made Harry incredibly left out whenever they did it.

Ron placed a hand on his shoulder and patted. With a grin, he merely said, "You won't like the answer." Hermione giggled into her palm, a sight that reminded Harry of Lavender and her group.

One could only pray Hermione wouldn't turn into one of those coquettish, gossiping ladies. The image in itself was already a horrendous nightmare. Harry shivered.

Deciding that, yeah, maybe he wouldn't want to know whatever reason the ginger and brunette had, Harry shot his best friends one long sceptical look before taking another sip of tea and saw that the time of his date approached closer and closer.

Harry soon got up from his seat and smoothed the imaginary wrinkles of his green dress shirt that Hermione had insisted on wearing.

He walked towards the fireplace and grabbed a handful of powder before bidding his goodbyes and saying, "Diagon Alley," in a clear voice.

***

The streets were packed with busy young wizards and witches, some shoving and elbowing their way. A man bumped into Harry, almost knocking him to the ground. With a spluttered apology the man quickly set off on his way, disappearing into the crowd once again.

Still looking at the way the man had run off to, Harry brought up a hand and swept off nonexistent dust from his shoulder.

Harry fought his way through the sea of people, he couldn't help but think of what had invited so many people here on a usually calm Saturday afternoon.

As if on cue, a shout to his left caught his attention -- it was from Flourish and Blotts. A large over-decorated sign with huge hand lettering was his answer. "Osvaldo Riggs is in town! Get your book signed!" was what was written.

Harry frowned, he could never understand what was it the man had written that made his writings blow up. Not that he hadn't tried to understand, he himself had borrowed the book from Hermione. It was by far one of the most obvious mystery novels he'd ever lay hands on. No wonder Hermione didn't make any threat and gave it to him without reluctance the second he asked for it.

A hand suddenly reached out to grab his from out of nowhere, yanking him towards the person's chest. Harry widened his eyes and whipped his head around to look at the person.

"Potter."

"Malfoy," Harry said, slightly nodding his head.

Draco Malfoy, all dressed up in the fanciest, most stylish clothes money could afford, stood before him in the flesh after a couple of floo calls they exchanged in the past week.

A smirk curved his lips as he stared down at the shorter wizard. "Good to see that your choice of clothes had improved over the past week, Potter." His grey eyes looked at him up and down.

"Wouldn't want to be seen having a meal with a poorly-dressed bloke," he added haughtily.

Harry stared at him long, before he snorted. "Mummy gonna flip if she'd known, eh Malfoy?"

Draco scoffed. "Don't get me started on Father, he'd disown me before I could even explain anything."

Harry laughed a real, genuine laugh at Draco's words. And the cold, indifferent Malfoy actually smiled back at him.

Yes, Malfoy, the git that had been tormenting him just because back in their school days. Rita Skeeter would be making millions of galleons from this. Who wouldn't want some juicy topics regarding the Saviour's love life?

"Come on, shall we?" Draco cocked his head towards a French restaurant and offered an arm for Harry to hold onto. Like the gentleman he is, a voice inside Harry's head supplied. Harry rolled his eyes but placed a hand on his arm regardless.

They were headed to the restaurant, it was slightly seeming out of place with its fancy exterior.

"After you, my lady," Draco teased, a smirk forming on his face.

"No, after you."

Draco shrugged. "I would've if I hadn't been taught manners."

"You prick, if anyone's the lady, then it's you," Harry spat, his mood turned a bit sour -- he shot a look at Draco's manicured nails. Draco winced. Damn, it wasn't meant to offend him. He'd never have it easy, would he, if it came to Potter?

"What, because I make time to take good care of myself? There's this thing called self-love, Potter. Ever heard of that?" Draco retorted. "I reckon not." Draco eyed his tousled mop of hair.

Harry opened his mouth to bite back, a chime interrupted him before he could.

The bell rang, someone opened the door for them instead, whilst the two men were busy arguing over who enters first. What a sentence.

"Oh, what pleasure it is to have you, gentlemen, here in my humble restaurant! It's such a delight to see you again, Mr Malfoy!" A blond woman cut them off, a French accent faint in her voice. She ushered them inside.

"Likewise, Madame Lavergne," Draco said, inclining his head politely. The woman smiled at the show of courtesy and put an open palm on her cheek.

She looked over at Harry, their eyes meeting each other. Harry tilted his head with a slight smile on his face, he returned her warm greeting, "Hello, my name's Harry," was what he said, introducing himself like a toddler on their first day in kindergarten.

The lady offered him a kind smile and nodded before introducing herself to him as Adrienne, and leading them to their table.

The two sat down, Harry's face slightly tinted in pink from went Malfoy had pulled out a chair for him to sit on. Said git was smirking smugly from across the table as he pored over the menu's content.

A sneer formed on Harry's lips, he then let out a small sigh before he decided to take a look at the menu as well.

Excited to see the delicious foods he's going to order, a smile rose on his face before it was wiped away the second he realised that it was all written in a language he didn't understand.

Harry didn't understand a thing. He blinked, his brain felt dizzy and was threatening to shut down just from looking at the long list of food, yet he didn't understand a thing written there.

It's...it's in French, fuck.

It seemed to Harry, Draco-I'm-a-slimy-git-Malfoy didn't take him here for no reason at all.

Chewing on his lips, Harry spoke slowly, "I...don't understand a thing." How embarrassing, now he felt rather stupid. Not that he wasn't If I do say so myself.

"I'm aware."

That piece of-!!

Harry let himself fell back against the chair, lower lip jutting in a pout as he let out a puff that blew his bangs upward. His eyes narrowed when a snicker was heard from the opposite of the table.

"Shove off, not everyone is a bilingual like you," he muttered, a tad grumpy.

"Correction: trilingual."

Arrogant prick.

"Impressive, wow." Harry rolled his eyes.

"So I've heard."

He might've seen wrong, but Harry could've sworn something close to a look of fondness flickered across the other's face for a second before it was back to its perfectly patented smirk.

The image lingered in Harry's mind for a few moments until he gained himself enough to snap out of it and turned bright red.

"Suddenly hot in here, Potter?" Draco's voice startled him.

"What makes you say that?" Harry scoffed, face not giving away any hint of what was happening inside -- heart pounding in panic as he chided himself over and over again for almost thinking he might've actually liked and wanted to see Malfoy smile in that way again.

"Your red face is quite a sight to behold, you know that Potter? I look forward to seeing more of it in the future."

Harry averted his gaze away, not standing to stare right at the knowing, amused, stormy depths of grey that were Draco's beautiful eyes.

"Shut up. And what makes you think there's gonna be a next time?" Harry blushed deeper as he blew another puff of air.

Draco merely leaned forward and smirked slyly. He answered confidently, "I'll make you wish for a next time."

"Huh, yeah right," was all Harry could say.

"Hmm."

Draco raised a hand, calling for a waiter. A ginger haired young woman dressed in navy blue approached their table with a notebook in hand.

Harry looked down on his lap to hide his blush from sight. Draco's voice was muffled in the background as he made his order. Harry fidgeted his fingers absentmindedly.

Not to his knowledge, the blond Malfoy's lips quirked in amusement as he found the dark-haired man's behaviour quite endearing.

Draco crossed his arms against his chest, a blond eyebrow arching as he asked Potter a question he randomly thought of. "How's Weasley and Granger?" he said, trying to make a conversation. He'd figure that Potter's lackeys were a safe topic.

"Brilliant." Harry paused until he reeled from the building tension from the lack of response, he added, "This was not yet revealed to the public, but the Chudley Canon's playing against Caerphilly Catapults in a few months."

"I take it this is an invitation to invite me over to watch it with you? Sweet. Thank you, love." Harry stared at him appalled, taken aback by the response he received, and flushed a deep red.

"N-No-! I didn't-! That wasn't what I meant...I just... But, well, I mean- if you want-!" Harry felt like slapping himself across the face. He gripped the sides of his chair extra tightly.

Draco cracked out a laugh, his face twisted into the widest grin Harry had ever seen the Malfoy wore. Seeing the usually stoic, cool Malfoy showing emotions so freely to him, Harry Potter, over-weighted the embarrassment, and it made him feel things inside.

"If I want?"

Harry looked away, fists balled on top of his thighs.

"Yes."

Draco chuckled and leaned closer with a smirk that made Harry's stomach became a habitat for butterflies.

"Well then, my answer is -- absolutely, Harry." The blond's voice was deep and rich, it sent electric waves throughout Harry's body.

A shiver down his spine, Harry's eyes gawked comically, not expecting the use of his first name. If he was being honest with himself, he might admit he actually liked the way his name rolled of Draco's tongue.

Blushing as red as beetroot, he felt himself threatening to melt under Draco's gaze, his legs going weak like jelly.

A cough brought him out of his reverie. Draco leaned back on his chair, throwing his leg over the other, creating a perfect image of a wealthy pureblood wizard.

It was then had only Harry noticed that Draco had grown into a fine young wizard who now resembled his father, Lucius, a lot. The blond man had grown out of his boyish, teenage features, his jawline was sharper and defined, cheekbones as high as it was elegant, his blond hair was no longer slicked back -- locks of luscious hair fell over his deep, stormy eyes.

There was only one word in existence that could perfectly depict the Malfoy heir. He was an adonis.

How had he not noticed this earlier, was something even Dumbledore didn't know the answer to.

Draco raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Potter?" He smirked, waving a slender hand to gain Harry's attention.

Harry swallowed a gulp of saliva, ashamed he had been caught staring too long. He shifted his eyes to look at anything but the smirking Slytherin in front of him.

"Hm, I know that last time I said it was rude to stare, but...perhaps I could make you an exception. After all, I find your stare to be quite enjoyable, Potter." Draco's voice dropped low at the last part -- dangerously seductive to Harry's ears.

"Shut up, I don't need to hear that," Harry said, his voice lacking its sharpness and came out more half-hearted than he wanted. His heart was beating like mad against his chest.

If only they had already started eating, he could then accuse Draco of spiking something into his food, which would explain why he feeling this way.

Godric, what was happening to him?

And no, it wasn't that he was falling for him. He couldn't be!

Because... Because...

Because he was not like this even with her.

So, no that wasn't possible. And this was Malfoy too, to add to that!

The sound of footsteps neared their table, Harry looked in its direction and saw the young lady from earlier standing near him with food trays perfectly balanced, perched on her hands and forearms so effortlessly. Harry suspected there was magic involved in that.

Harry gaped like a fish out of water at the sight of the food Draco had ordered for the two of them. Though, it was still way too much for two people to eat, in Harry's opinion. Draco didn't look fazed in the slightest, however.

In fact, the git was rather...pleasant? He was all right, Harry might be wrong, but the blond at the moment had his nose slightly stuck up in the air like he was preening from the delectable meals he had chosen, sort of.

If he had expected for Harry to go, "Oh heavens, Malfoy! I knew you had good taste! I'm impressed that you know French as well!" then he wasn't getting any of that, sorry to disappoint.

Draco arched a brow at him, waiting for a response. With which Harry answered with a mere, "Seems delicious."

Though, that seemed to be enough to inflate Draco's already big ego as he looked very satisfied with himself, all the while half-smiling and half-smirking.

Just then, at the immensely appealing smell of the dishes settled on the table before him, the unwanted, the unforeseen, the damned-est thing happened.

An embarrassingly more-than-audible growl interrupted Draco's short conversation with the waitress. The waitress' hand that was holding a glass of water stopped mid-air.

Shite.

"Pfft-" Draco smothered a laugh, and so did the waitress -- judging from the look on her face -- much to Harry's shame.

Fucking stomach and its growling tendency! Harry swore in his mind as he flushed a maroon colour. How he wished the floor would magically open and swallow him whole.

If magic could do anything, then why not this? sulked Harry as he cried and threw a fit internally.

If there was a turn off button on a human's body, he'd already done that the second his stomach sold him out.

Thankfully for him, Hermione was right -- she always was anyway. Draco Malfoy indeed turned out to be a better person after all, as of how he quickly looked out the window -- that was charmed to look like there was a beautiful landscape outside -- and bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to not laugh out loud like Harry could tell he wanted and pretended as nothing happened.

To be frank, Harry was quite touched by that.

He had initially expected Draco to tease him about it like he probably would back then when they were still young teenagers.

A glass of steaming chocolate coloured beverage with whipped cream, marshmallows and sprinkles at the top was slid on the table until it was in front of Harry. His eyes gleamed instantly like a child being treated ice cream by their parents.

A short squeal emitted from him, it disappeared as quickly as it began as he disguised it -- futilely -- with a cough.

Draco smiled. "Hot chocolate -- your favourite," he said, looking ever the proudest from remembering that little detail from all his staring at the Great Hall years ago.

"I remember that you have a sweet tooth, Potter."

How did he?

"I have my ways."

What?

"You're as easy to read as an open book. Anyone ever told you that before?" Draco smirked as he rested his chin on top of the back of his hands, not planning on taking his eyes off Harry at any moment.

Harry slowly shook his head, his eyes not leaving Draco's grey ones, still a bit sceptical.

Harry then eagerly -- and carefully -- took the glass of hot chocolate and took a sip before yelping as the hot liquid made contact with his tongue, burning it in the process.

Clumsy as he was, he quickly settled the glass down onto the table, earning himself a splatter of the glass' content on his shirt.

He heard Draco tutted from across him, shaking his head at him. The blond took a handkerchief -- wait, people still use that? -- out of his breast pocket and what he did next almost landed Harry on a vacation to St Mungos.

Draco, with the white handkerchief in hand, leaned alarmingly closer towards Harry. The black-haired man's poor heart was beating uncontrollably and blood rushed up to his face.

The world seemed to stop as Draco brought his face close enough to be in Harry's personal space, and brought his hand, the one with the handkerchief, to wiped it along Harry's collar where the stain was at.

Harry's eyes were wide open as saucers, his body went numb, only Draco appeared to be the only thing his mind and eyes could focus on.

Jolting in surprise, he felt a slight brush of Draco's pale hand against his collarbone as the other man continued to worked the stain off of him. Harry forgot how to breathe.

The handsome young blond man was so dangerously close that Harry could feel his breath ghosting on the tip of his nose. Blood was pounding in his ears, the only thing loud enough for his ears to catch.

"Try not to spill any more drink on yourself in the future, Potter. I wouldn't always be by your side to wipe it for you." Harry wasn't sure if he even had any blood left to rush up to his face.

All he could do at the moment was to stare back at the cool grey eyes before his own. They seemed to be very...breath-taking, and...

Mysterious? his mind supplied. Harry found himself unable to deny and was too enraptured to think of anything, but the man in front of him.

It felt like they were both the only occupants of this world, like everything surrounding them were nothing but painted sceneries. Inside, Harry panicked. No one and nothing ever made him experienced something like this before.

Just then, Draco finally leaned back graciously on his chair and placed down the green cloth by his wine glass.

A slight pang of what could be discerned as disappointment struck his chest and Harry had no choice but to push it down.

Harry hung his head, staring down at the floor, blushing heavily. Unbeknownst to Harry, Draco had a smile of satisfaction adorning his aristocratic face as he eyed him with full interest.

Harry was utterly speechless of what just happened. He raised a finger to his hot, blood-filled cheek, disguising it as though he was just brushing away a strand of his long bangs, skin burning hot beneath his fingertip.

"T-thanks," he managed, still not having his words back to him after having them taken away so suddenly by the blond's action.

Draco made a sound of acknowledgement before uttering a "You're welcome", and took the utensils in his hands and started eating.

An abashed smile lingering faintly on his cheeks, Harry -- with his unusually shy demeanour -- picked up his and started eating his soupe à l'oignon.

A burst of flavour exploded in his mouth. The soup was very warm, savoury and rich in taste. Harry smacked at his lips slowly, his eyebrow disappeared into his hairline as he silently judged the food and deemed it worthy for a second visit in the future.

Yeah, I'll be back here again, absolutely, he thought while nodding to himself with a mental note to bring Ron and Hermione with him, or his parents...Sirius and Remus, too...fuck it, the whole damn family!

Just then, a sigh of pure bliss escaped his lips before he could even stop it. Completely unnoticed by him, Draco who was silently and peacefully chewing on his food stiffened in his seat at the sound.

"Malfoy, how did you discover this place? This is amazing," Harry questioned in an airy tone, similar to the one Lavender Brown used to use upon fangirling over hot Quidditch players and models.

Draco stilled, remaining quiet as the hand gripping his spoon tightened. Soon, he regained himself fast enough for Harry to notice nothing. He chuckled and replied rather awkwardly, thanking the gods that the Gryffindor was oblivious as he was.

"Mother told me about it," as unconvincing as his voice sounded to his own ears, Harry bought it and proceeded with his meal. The man wouldn't notice someone robbing a house if it's happening in front of him.

"I'm glad we came here, Malfoy."

"I could tell," Draco replied briefly.

The date then went on uneventfully, with them just talking about random stuff, or mostly Quidditch as it was a topic they both commonly shared a great interest in.

Time passed, Harry checked the expensive muggle watch his godfather insisted on buying him, and an hour had passed. Harry blinked. Well, time sure flies quickly when it's spent with the person you enjoy talki-

Harry waved a hand in the air as if physically shooing away his cloud of thoughts and smiled a thin-lipped smile when Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

A waitress came up to their table at the raise of Draco's hand. She conjured a book and began writing very quickly, her eyes snapping back and forth from her book to the table and then back. She then vanished the empty dishes with a wave of her wand.

Seeing the now clean, spotless table up to her sanitary, she started to read out the bill and Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"The total is 148.55 galleons, gentlemen," her voice echoed in Harry's head, though he quickly dug his hands into the pocket of his trousers when he saw Draco did just that.

The waitress' eyes darted from Harry to Draco, confusion drawn across her face as to who would be the one to pay in a non-heterosexual date.

Only by now having the realisation of not feeling the weight of his pouch in his pants, Harry blanched and began to panic. His thoughts drifted to when he was smacked into by a stranger in the busy street.

Oh no, no, no, no... Harry chanted in his head like a mantra.

At the sound of coins clanking, Harry knew Malfoy had paid the bill. Harry felt frustrated. Just how in the world did he not notice he had been pickpocketed.

The waitress walked away and Harry fell slumped on the table right away, his hand tangled in his hair in tight grips.

"Sorry, Malfoy," was the only thing he said, as his cheek collided with the hard wood of the table.

At that, a slight frown appeared on said Malfoy's face. "What for?" he asked, unsure what the other man was implying.

"For being the one paying," Harry mumbled, making a perfect image of a petulant child.

Draco laughed, much to Harry's chagrin. "You shouldn't be. A Malfoy never lets others pay in their stead anyway."

Harry continued to mop, mourning for the loss of his beloved pouch. His finger absently drew circles on the table.

"Potter? What seems to be the matter?" Draco asked curiously.

Harry clicked his tongue in annoyance and mumbled "Son of a bitch pickpocketed me on the street," Harry hated how closely that sounded to a whine, but he found that he had run out of tosses to give.

"Bollocks," Harry mumbled against the table.

Draco stayed silent for a moment before finally replying with a couldn't-care-less-you should've-been-more-careful type of tone, "Is that so? Want me to hunt him down for you, Potter?"

"Don't trouble yourself Malfoy, but thanks...not that I'm gonna though," Harry deadpanned.

Startling the living lights out of him, a hand touched the messy black mop he called hair, ruffling it about. Out of instinct Harry's head snapped up to be met by a gorgeous being by the name of Draco Malfoy, who had a slight smirk on his elegant visage.

Laughing a deep chuckle that mesmerized a stilled Harry, Draco got up and pulled the shorter man with him and forced him to meet his eyes by a finger under the other's chin. "Well, we can't have your day all ruined like that, can we Potter?" A gleam swam in the depths of his eyes.

Harry stumbled upon his words as he caught himself staring again. "N-no, I g-guess...?" Draco's smirk grew wider.

The blond nodded in agreement. "Yes, and that's why we're going on a little trip together, Potter," he stated.

Harry's eyes when slightly wide at that. "Uh...huh? Don't you have t-things to do?" he suggested lamely.

Draco looked at him straight in the eye. "No."

"Even if I do, whatever it is can wait," Draco said as he all but dragged Harry by the hand out of the restaurant. A "Thanks for your visit and come again!" from Adrianne was not far behind them, and Harry looked back to return her smile, before trying to keep up with Draco's fast pace.

"We're going to...where?!"

"Shut up and you'll see," was the brief answer, not giving him the slightest idea.

Harry frowned, curiosity very evident across his features it emitted a low chuckle from the blond Malfoy.

He let out a high-pitched yelp when Draco made an abrupt turn into a dark alley and pulled him close against him that Harry's face smacked right into his sturdy chest.

"Oomph!" Harry's voice muffled against Draco's shirt-clad chest. A smile tugged at Draco's lips.

"Ready, Potter?"

Harry blinked, not yet recovering from the crash. "Uh...huh- what?"

Taking that as a yes, Draco encircled the cute dark-haired male with strong arms around his waist, and pulled him impossibly tight against himself.

Staring with a mischievous gleam in his eyes, Draco smirked. "Then, off we go," he said with a light tone, panicking the shorter man even more.

"W-wait-! Wher-"

Draco didn't wait around to hear the rest of what Harry had to say. He disapparated them both from the alley, not leaving any trace of them being there before behind.

***

Harry let out another yelp as he felt his feet giving out. He would've fallen flat on his arse on the ground hadn't the firm hand on his waist kept him in place, flushed against the solid frame of the blond Malfoy heir.

Harry's eyes widened when he finally came to a realisation that they seemed to land in a grass field, out of nowhere...or was it not?

Green eyes squinted into slits upon seeing a huge, extravagant house in the distance. The building stood tall and regal, with red roses and white marble peacock statues running along the base.

Harry opened his mouth to ask and turned to Draco, who he saw had an unreadable look on his face. Heat crept up his neck. Just how long had he been staring?

Harry turned to take a step in the stone-tiled path, before finding himself restricted from making the move. Only then had he realise that the hand was still coiled around his lower back, unmoving, making him lean involuntarily close to the blond's lean frame.

Blushing to his ears, Harry spluttered incoherently. He looked down to avoid the steel grey eyes that were still looking at him down. The embarrassed man writhed in the blond's embrace, struggling to get out of grasp, but to no avail.

A voice, deep and clear, muttered low by his ear, "You should've seen yourself, Potter. Blushing, are we? My, my." Draco blew a hot breath on his ear. A shudder rolled throughout his body, Harry heard Draco smirk.

"Y-you wish!" was the instinctive response. Draco chuckled with a hint of amusement lacing his voice. He drew away from the red-faced man, giving Harry a chance to breathe and cool himself.

Draco walked away, now several feet in front of him before turning back to shout for Harry to walked faster.

"Come on, old man! Even a spider in rollerblades could go faster than that!"

Harry glared at him, looking the most threatening possible with pink hues still lingering on his cheeks. "Old man?" Harry asked incredulously. "Malfoy, we're the same age. You're even months older than me if I remember correctly."

Draco chuckled and smirked in response. "I, however, wear it better, Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes at that. "Yeah, yeah, keep saying that. You know what they say about white-blond hair. It makes you look-"

"Finish that sentence I dare you, Potter. You'll wake up with a bollock missing," Draco shot defensively, his face twisted into a glower -- a spitting image of his spiteful younger self.

Harry merely cocked his head to the side with an innocent smile playing on his pink lips. Draco scoffed and turned his gaze back on track.

"So, gonna tell me where we are, Malfoy?" Harry jogged to his side, head tilted to the side in question, green eyes glittering in a child-like curiosity behind those hideous spectacles.

"Can't you guess?" asked Draco with a cough following as he quickly turned to look the other way, having caught himself looking for a moment too long.

Harry looked up, seemingly to ponder about it. Before coming to a conclusion that he, admittedly, had no clue, at all. Which wasn't surprising at all to Draco. It was only expected from the dense Gryffindor.

"Hm... No?" he laughed.

"Haha. Of course, you don't, you daft git. A person could've immediately tell where we are from a single look." Draco snorted.

"Ah, pardon. A person by at least average intelligence could've tell where we are from a single look," he smirked with a side-eyed glance at the look on Harry's face.

Hm, it turned out that getting onto Harry Potter's nerves was still a hobby of his after all these years. Draco thought to himself joyfully.

"Hey, watch it, you prick! My IQ is fucking 142!"

"I have no idea what that is you're talking about, but I take it that is quite low?"

Harry's eyes widened in anger. "No goddammit, you piece of sh-!"

A loud pop cut Harry off and now stood a house-elf before the two men. "Tinky greets Master Draco Malfoy and his...companion."

Draco inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"Shall Tinky prepare the equipment, Master Malfoy?" the house elf's squeaky asked.

Oh, so this got to be one of the Malfoy estates? So much for a 142 IQ. And also, equipment? For what?

"Not for this time. You're dismissed." The house-elf disappeared with another pop into thin air.

"Equipment...?" Harry arched an eyebrow.

Draco nodded, proceeding into his leisurely paced stroll. "Yes, I do horse riding here. Every Sunday. It's a little hobby of mine." he shrugged as though it was something everyone did for a living.

Harry's eyes lit up with interest. His mind already supplying images of Draco riding a white horse with full gear on.

"Really?" Draco nodded. "Wicked."

Draco smirked to himself proudly. "I know."

Harry turned to look at the ground, watching his feet as he took another step in front of the other. An image crossed his mind, he thought maybe it could be quite a fun activity to be on a horse, riding his way around the vast field, through its peaks and valleys as he basked under the warm sunlight in the afternoon.

A soft smile curved his lips.

Draco who caught a glimpse of that, smiled a smile of his own and bumped his shoulder lightly. "I could teach you if you want," he offered to Harry, his voice uncharacteristically -- that of a Malfoy's -- warm and gentle.

Harry silently thought he liked the sound of Draco's voice when he's not being a git.

"Really?" Hope bloomed on Harry's face, lightening up his whole visage. Draco blushed and coughed awkwardly.

"I wouldn't have said so, if I hadn't meant it, no?" He looked forward, sneaking several glances at the beaming man beside him as he talked.

Harry's lips stretched into a wide grin. "Then, my answer is yes."

"Very well, then. We shall arrange this sometime later."

"Mm-hmm!"

A broad smile remained plastered on Harry's face as they walked their time away until the sun was no longer hung in the sky and a dark blue colour took place of its previous warm orange.

A drop of water fell from the sky, wetting Harry's cheek. Having caught by surprise Harry jolted, then brought a hand to his cheek and looked up.

As if taking that as their cue, raindrops started to fell from sky-high like arrows pouring down a battlefield, drenching both Harry and Draco.

"Oh, Merlin. Just great."

Just as he was about to call for Draco, he felt a familiar hand on his wrist pulling him towards the blond. Harry looked up and furrowed his eyebrows in question.

"Malfoy-?" he cut himself off with a gasp as the blond in question took off his coat and pulled him flushed to his side. So close that their hips were touching against each other. A warm heat rose to Harry's cheeks.

"Malfoy?" Harry tried again, still not answered.

Draco flung his coat around them, covering the back of their head and backs from the rain.

Harry gaped at the sight he was met with. Draco looked down at him through wet blond lashes as they fanned against his pale high cheekbones -- a sight resembling that of a prince out of a muggle fairy tale that Harry used to come across in his picture books.

Drops of rain dangled at the sharp edges of Draco's darkened and dampened blond locks, one slid from his forehead down to the curve of his nose -- as Harry's eyes followed -- and to his jaw, then down his jugular and disappeared behind the collar of his shirt. His white shirt that was soaked in the rain and was now basically a see-through top, showing off the toned muscles hidden underneath.

Blush spread across his face, Harry turned and clamped a hand to his mouth. So much blood rushed to his face, Harry was positive that it would eventually overflow from his nose.

"Come on, Potter! Do you wish to stay here? Because I'm leaving!" There came Draco's impatient voice tickling his ear.

Harry nodded while trying to fight away the blood off his overheated face.

They made their way to the house quick, as the rain became heavier by the second. And then, suddenly...

"Ahh!" Harry shouted, his foot tripping over a rock. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the impact with the hard ground.

But it didn't happen.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around his torso for the second time that day, Harry fluttered his eyes open. Draco had caught him just in time. How come he was such a damsel in distress today? Harry had no idea.

They stood there in the rain, caught up in each other's presence. Who was it that insinuate it first, it didn't matter as they both leaned in and brought their faces to one another. A magical and world stopping moment it was and as they were about to get close enough for their lips to touch, a thunder roared.

Draco and Harry jumped, startled at the interruption. They locked eyes once more and a smile lifted Harry's lips.

"What're you looking at, Malfoy?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Having to just recover his senses, Draco blinked and without missing a beat, he replied, "Mother once told me to enjoy the little things in life and I decide to take heed of that." A smirk appeared on his luscious lips when an indignant look crossed Harry's features.

But then, as Harry was about to spew out the insults on the brink of his tongue. He found himself smiling instead. And together, they both laughed in harmony, even if drowned out in the rain.

Sigh. If Harry used to get so worked up over anything the blond did back then, now all he was upset about was how he couldn't seem to bring those anger back to surface.

Harry felt his heart pounded hard. He was never one to believe that it could be so easy to just forget all those years of hatred -- although he was willing to try -- but he was now proven wrong.

A foolish smile graced Harry's lips as Draco stared at him with something misleadingly close to being interpreted as adoration.

Cold biting wind swept upon them, sending shivers through Harry's frame -- he felt cold, but couldn't care less at the moment. It seemed that all that mattered now in the world was the man in front of him, and himself.

Magic tingled against his skin, at where his and Draco's touched -- as they were only separated by two layers of clothing. It was truly breathtaking, none of that Harry had felt before.

If Harry ever felt magical, he certainly was now. And it was Draco Malfoy who he was sharing the moment with.

What an unexpected turn it was, that it was Malfoy, who appeared as his ex arch-nemesis, to be the one who stepped into his life once again and brought back the happiness he hasn't had felt in these dull and tedious years.

Unexpected it was, but not unwelcomed. Moreover, Harry decided that Draco could be a fine addition to his uninteresting life.

And dare Harry thought that, just maybe -- because now was still too early, but just maybe Draco could be the one to open that new door?

One could only hope as much.

"-Potter?" a voice brought him out of his musings.

Harry fluttered his eyes. Oh. He was daydreaming again.

He bit his lips and ducked his head in embarrassment for having such thoughts, hands still clutching at Draco's shirt tightly.

"As favourable as I found the position we are in right now, Potter, let's not stay here for any longer," Draco said, a teasing smile adorned his lips.

Emerald eyes shyly meeting the other's gaze from behind the dark lashes, Harry replied, "Yeah, and I'm going to blame you for it if I catch a cold."

"Don't worry I'll take full responsibility." A smirk formed on his face again. "Hoping for me to feed you hot soup in bed, Potter?"

Harry shot him yet another half-hearted glare before it broke into a shy, boyish grin. "Yeah, why not. I don't quite detest the idea of that, do you, Malfoy?" he teased back.

Grey eyes widened upon hearing that from the other male -- as he had previously thought he would be too shy and very much caught in a haze at the moment to be able to clap back a proper retort, how Draco forgot for a moment that this was Harry Potter, the prat he once shared a deep rivalry with.

A soft scoff tore out of Draco. "Not at all. In fact, it's only another opportunity for me to be close to you again, Potter. An honour really, to be serving the Chosen One."

Harry blushed a light pink, finding that he didn't hate it as much when Malfoy teased him with the famous title that he had despised so much for all his life.

"W-well, then... We should be going," said Harry quickly. He turned on his heels, and disentangled himself from the blond man and headed towards the manor.

Draco smiled at his retreating back and bent down to gather his long forgotten, soaked and dirty coat.

He followed shortly after Harry and they both were later found inside of the manor, wetting the grand foyer's previously clean floor.

***

A blond and a black-haired man popped out of nowhere in a deserted alley of muggle London.

"So, this is it, huh?" Harry looked up to meet Draco's lingering gaze.

"Yeah." Draco smiled back.

Harry bit down a sigh, he didn't want this to end. Funny how just hours ago he was whining about regretting his decision and all to his friends. A tug lifted the corners of his lips at the thought.

A cough from the blond perked his ears.

"Do you... Um... Fancy another date, Potter?" Draco asked, finally regaining his confidence.

Tinges of pink spread across Harry's cheeks and then, he pretended to contemplate hard. With a finger scratching his hairless chin, Harry mused out loud.

"Hm... Do I?" he teased.

Draco deadpanned, eager for a solid answer, "I don't know, that's why I asked." A languid sneer formed on his handsome face.

"I supposed I could clear some time off my very busy schedule for you, Malfoy," Harry teased, staring straight back at Draco's grey eyes, which darkened at the mention of him doing something exclusively for him, Draco Malfoy.

Draco cleared his throat. "Well then..."

Harry raised his eyebrows, a playful smirk curving his lips.

He honestly had no idea that a date could be so enjoyable since this was his first, and he didn't mind one bit to go on another with Draco.

"That'll be very appreciated. Thank you," Draco muttered his thanks, a little embarrassed all of a sudden.

The blond directed his gaze away from the owlishly blinking pair of emerald eyes as he felt his heart jumping in joy and to hide the foolishly wide happy grin that threatened to break out on his face.

"Yeah, and well..." Harry fidgeted, "Thank you for tonight, too. I had a lot of fun."

"So did I," Draco's smooth voice spoke a little too quickly. Draco caught himself and hurriedly added, "I mean, it wasn't so bad, Potter. Who knew you weren't as insufferable as I thought."

Harry scoffed sarcastically, hints of amusement glittering his green eyes that Draco had grown to adore so much from all these years. Though, he didn't have the opportunity to tell him that just yet.

Draco would more than love to shower Harry with praises, however. But there would be time for that in the future, Draco was sure of it. He had to be.

"So... I'll see you again?" Harry smiled.

A peaceful, content look took over Draco's face. "Yes."

Harry waved his goodbye and speed-walked towards the entrance of a tall building that was his apartment.

A jovial grin stretched Harry's lips so wide, you could count every single tooth on both rows of perfect white teeth. Harry clenched his right hand against his chest, his heart beating quickly in exhilaration under.

A sudden "Potter!" stopped Harry's foot from taking another step.

He slowly turned back and saw Draco came up to him with something all too familiar in his hand.

"My bad, Potter, it seems that this son of a bitch forgot to return your pouch," Draco smirked widely when Harry's eyes went wide as the realisation sank in.

"It's you!" Harry gasped shocked, his eyes flashed and a finger pointed accusingly at the slimy Slytherin.

"Remarkable observation skills, really Potter," Draco said unimpressed, sarcasm dripping heavily from his voice.

"B-but how-!?"

Draco said nothing, and let the coin-filled fell weightily in Harry's hand. Draco spun on his heel and walked back towards the alley to apparate back home.

Harry stared at his previously-thought-to-be-stolen pouch and shouted after Draco with a loud "Wait!" in the middle of the quiet, deafening street.

Draco turned his head to look back at Harry with an elegant eyebrow raised in question.

"U-uh... Goodnight, Draco!" Harry shouted, his cheeks painted red. The blond's first name felt so foreign on his tongue. Foreign yet right, it was.

Draco almost staggered in surprise from where he was standing. A warm sensation burst inside of his chest, his heart fluttered against its ribcage and butterflies flew around in his stomach. All of that just from hearing the use of his given name.

A foolish, pleased smile lifted the corners of his lips.

Without looking back, he replied, "Goodnight, Harry." And he soon reached the alley and vanished into thin air, leaving the black-haired man alone in the middle of the street with a dazed look on his face.

Harry looked down at his pouch and hugged it against him in the same fashion as a schoolgirl that was given a love letter.

Happiness bubbled inside of him, he was ecstatic that he hadn't lost a penny and had his newly-bought pouch in hands once again.

He shifted his eyes to stare into the alley Draco had disappeared from and a warm look dawned on his face.

The black-haired man decided to call it a day and turned to walk back home to his cosy apartment.

Upon entering his living room, he made a dash towards the fireplace and made 'floo-calling Hermione and Ron' his first task.

"Oh, Harry! You're back!" Hermione chirped enthusiastically. "Hey mate, how was it?" Ron greeted him with his usual grin on his freckled face.

"Hermione! Ron! You won't believe this!" Harry exclaimed.

There was that glance exchanged between his two friends again, but this time Harry didn't find it all disturbing as his joyfulness over-weighted it.

"Yeah? Try us," a smirk -- the one Ron often used back then when he plotted something against the Slytherins -- appeared on the redhead's lips.

"So, so? How was it?" Hermione barely held down a squeal and clapped her hands impatiently, looking as girly as Harry had ever seen her, aside from when they attended the Yule Ball.

With only a single word in mind, Harry answered,

"Brilliant."

-- The End --

Note(s):

Thank you for reading! Hope this made your day better, even if only slightly ^^!