After everyone was showered and changed (Draco did end up getting the last shower), they rushed to meet up with the rest of the students going to Hogsmeade. McGonagall gave the four of them a stern look when they finally showed up, and Draco grabbed Harry's hand fiercely while what color was still left drained from his face. Harry chucked under his breath and pressed a kiss to Draco's cheek to calm him.

As the students walked into Hogsmeade, some noticed a surprisingly large stall filled to the brim with Harry Potter tchotchkes. Many students rushed over with excitement at the prospect of buying something to show their support for the Chosen One. When our four saw the merch stall, Harry thought of a perfect date opportunity.

"Why don't we come back in a bit, make fun of some of the things there," Hermione said. The others nodded and continued deeper into Hogsmeade.

When they entered the Three Broomsticks, all four were immediately comforted by the low light, ambient chatter, and warm smells wafting from the kitchen in the back. Harry subtly nodded toward Hermione, revealing his plan to her silently.

"Ron, I almost forgot that we have an actual task from your mother. She asked us to pick up a couple things from Hogsmeade while we were here." Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and started walking out of the Three Broomsticks. She called back to Harry, "We'll meet you at the pop-up shop in about. . .four hours? Sound okay?" and whisked a very bewildered Ron out the door. Draco looked from Harry to where Hermione had just left and back to Harry before musing,

"You have something planned, don't you? Don't try and feebly lie your way out of this one. I may like you, but I'm not daft enough not to know you run your hand through your hair when you're lying." Harry's mouth floundered open and shut, hand falling to his side. He then let out a defeated sigh.

"Can't keep anything from you, can I?" Draco shook his head,

"I've known you for seven years, Harry," Draco looped an arm around Harry's waist, "You can try to hide things, but stalking you was a full-time job."

"So you do admit you were stalking me all those years!" Harry laughed, bumping his shoulder into Draco's. Draco playfully shoved Harry back, making a face at him.

"Let's just go find a seat, so we aren't in the way." Draco sighed, shaking his head at his idiotic boyfriend.

They found a comfortable booth in the back, out of sight from prying eyes (coughcough RitaSkeeter coughcough), and sat down. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes until Madame Rosmerta came up to them.

"Harry!" She bellowed, "I haven't seen you here for some time and with a date no less!" Harry bashfully smiled and waved back at her. "What'll it be this time, eh? I think I'd know your order of Butterbeer by now!" she laughed, turning to face Draco. "What'll it be, honey?"

Draco's eyes pulled over the menu languidly, "A Firewhiskey, neat, please, and thank you." He folded the menu deliberately and handed it to Rosmerta. She laughed again,

"Seems you've got quite the man there, Harry! I'll bring both of those right out." She picked up Harry's menu and promptly disappeared.

Harry gaped at Draco. Draco could be extremely attractive when he turned on his charm, and from the smug look on his face, Draco knew exactly what he was doing. Draco smiled, sultry turning goofy, before bursting out in giggles, smile brighter than the sun.

"That was so fun!" Draco exclaimed, grabbing Harry's hands over the table, "I haven't 'turned on the charm,' as my father used to say in ages!" Harry couldn't help but smile stupidly at his puppy dog of a boyfriend.

"You used to do that more?" Harry questioned, curious to learn more about Draco and if he could do it again.

"My father had me learn from a young age that a handsome face and a bit of light flirting would get you everywhere. Mother taught it to me, but neither of them expected me to use it more on our male guests than our female ones. Just another pureblood expectation that I surpassed." Draco looked both proud of himself and disgusted by his father. "The whole reason I could barely stand Gryffindor parties is that it seemed like everyone had their 'charm' on," Draco sighed, "But now I realize that Gryffindors are naturally charming, and most of them were shit-faced drunk at the time." Harry laughed. Gryffindor parties were known to house the most and strongest alcohol under their roof, and there were many times that everyone around Harry was drunker than they should have been for a Tuesday night.

"I never took you for a drinker, especially not a Firewhiskey drinker." Harry wondered aloud, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb against the back of Draco's hand.

"I'm not, normally," Draco explained, "Just on special occasions, parties, and if I need a little extra help unwinding after a social event. Pureblood' parties'" Draco air-quoted "were not the parties you know and tolerate. It would be unseemly to walk around without a glass of something strong in your hand, even if you weren't eighteen." Harry must have looked confused or terrified because Draco quickly backtracked, "No! No. Children under sixteen weren't required to drink. They were usually served Gillywater or Pumpkin juice in an alcohol glass. I was always partial to Gillywater myself. Once you turned sixteen, your parents would decide if they wanted you to drink or not, and. .well. .mine decided since I wasn't holding up Pureblood values in. . .other ways, this one would have to do." Harry brought one of his hands up to Draco's face and caressed it with his thumb. Draco leaned into the touch and shot Harry a thankful smile.

As suddenly as she disappeared, Madame Rosmerta reappeared with their drinks, setting them down. Harry startled and reached for his pocket, but Madame Rosmerta shook her head, saying, "On the house, for everything you've done for us, and because it's your first date with this fine man!." And with that, she was gone again.

Draco downed his Firewhiskey, then immediately made a face and gagged. "Merlin," Draco coughed, "I always forget how fucking awful Firewhiskey is." Harry gestured to his Butterbeer as a taste chaser, and Draco happily nodded and took a sip, sighing afterward. "Thank you. You're too nice to me for my own good." Harry was too stunned at the display he'd just witnessed to speak. He had just seen his very buttoned-up, Pureblood boyfriend drink firewhiskey like it was a shot and cursed. Draco stifled giggles (shut up, Draco SO giggles), seeing Harry's dumbstruck face.

"Are you really this surprised to find out I'm not as much of a bitch as I seemed

these past years? Wasn't the whole point of becoming friends and eventually boyfriends to see that I wasn't the little bitch who stalked you and made fun of you?" Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry.

"I mean. . .yeah," Harry said, trying to figure out how to say what he was feeling, "it's just, I don't know, a bit. . .surprising, I guess. . .to know you have a dark side." Harry could see he was digging his grave, and he decided the best option was to shut up and drink his Butterbeer. Draco just laughed and took hold of Harry's other hand again.

After Harry had finished, they stood up, and Harry secretly left a hefty tip for Madame Rosmerta. Draco stood less gracefully than normal and linked his arm with Harry's.

"We still have a bit of time before we go to meet Hermione and Ron," Harry said, leading both of them out of the Three Broomsticks, "Why don't we stop in the bookshop, and you can get some of the books you've wanted. My treat, since I'm taking you out this time." Harry could see Draco's eyes light up when he said 'bookshop,' and he sent a silent thank you to Hermione for planting the idea in his head. As they made their way there, Harry noticed Draco bordering on tipsy from just one drink. He made a mental note that Draco was very much a lightweight and to check in on him if he drank again.

Draco's excitement grew as they walked up to the bookshop, aptly named The Story Keeper. He was practically vibrating with excitement as they walked through the doors.

"Okay," Harry stated, wanting to make sure he kept sight of his slightly tipsy boyfriend at all times, "what were the books you said you wanted again?"

"I keep a list!" Draco giggled, pulling Harry along to the various bookshelves whilst picking books up and either holding on to them or putting them back, patting them once they were back in their spots. "I just want to find a couple today because not all of us can just 'I'm the Chosen One' out of doing homework." Harry grumbled an 'I do not ' too low for Draco to hear. Draco pulled a book down, read the title, and pulled it to his chest with a lovesick sigh. This caught Harry's attention. Draco noticed Harry's questioning eyes and turned the cover to face Harry. 'Shakespearian Sonnets.'

"Isn't that a Muggle book?" Harry asked, bewildered as to how Draco knew about a Muggle poet.

Draco nodded excitedly, "Most Purebloods think Shakespeare was a secret wizard! How else would he know about all the magic and transfiguration he wrote about in his plays!" Harry smiled dopily at Draco, Draco's behavior cementing that Draco was who he said he was and that under all that snark and conformity, he was just a boy who loved literature.

Harry plucked the book from his hand, saying, "I told you it was my treat, so you should be able to use your hands for looking, not carrying." Draco laughed and feigned swooning. Draco kissed Harry's cheek as a thank you and continued to look through the piles of books.

Eventually, it was time to meet Hermione and Ron, so Harry herded a grumpy Draco out of The Story Keeper, floating a stack of nine books beside them. As the pop-up shop came back into view, so did Hermione and Ron waving to Harry and Draco. The pop-up looked fairly empty, with so many of the students visiting the stand early in the day. The person behind the counter had on obviously fake round glasses and a poorly drawn-on scar. Draco stood next to Harry, looking between him and the shopkeeper, barely containing his giggles. Harry rolled his eyes and smiled at his boyfriend's antics. On the wall behind the Fake Harry were different shirts, hats, socks, and joggers with different Harry-isms on them. There were Gryffindor jerseys with this quidditch number on them, along with socks and shorts of the same design. There were shirts with just the glasses and scar, and there were even fake glasses and temporary tattoos of his scar. Harry stared in disbelief at everything they had to offer, then he thought of an amazing idea. To end the best date he's ever had in Hogsmeade, he'd get Draco a couple of things from this shop. As the other three were joking about the merch sold, Harry slipped away and bought some of his own, asking the seller to wrap it up for him. When he rejoined the group, he heard Hermione laughing uncontrollably.

"That would be perfect ! We all get fake tattoos and glasses and go as the Four Potters'." Harry shook his head at the group, laughing along with them.

Draco, having sobered up slightly but still not to his usual buttoned-up state, giggled along with them. When he saw Harry, he lost it all over again. Harry came to his side and rested his arm around Draco's shoulder, smiling at him. "Why be fakes when you can just steal my glasses and clothes and have the same result." This caused the group to laugh harder, thinking about Hermione in the two sizes too-big clothes Harry wore.

The fun was put on hold as they saw the other Hogwarts students lining up near the gate, and McGonagall's eyes found the group of giggly young adults. The four of them walked back to Hogwarts, laughing and teasing Harry. Harry felt a swell of pride at how well Draco seemed to fit into his little makeshift family and how he always wanted to feel this way, with Draco by his side and his two best friends an arm's reach away.