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fifty-one | results

~no pov

Together, Harry and Draco had stressed about their results. 

Draco knew his father would be expecting his results, and would expect them to be perfect. If it wasn't, it would be a disgrace to the family name.

All nines, nothing more, nothing less.

And of course, that was beyond realistic, which stressed Draco out even more. He would be fine with sixes, sevens and eights, but all nines? That wasn't achievable, in his opinion. 

See, year ten and eleven drained the life out of him, and he wasn't doing as well, academically and mentally, as he had before. How was he supposed to get perfect GCSEs?

And for Harry, this was his ticket to sixth-form, and it was highly unlikely that he'd be able to further his education without sixth-form. He didn't believe he could get into a college, and there weren't any closer schools to apply to.

And that's saying something, because Hogwarts was at least an hour's walk away.

"So, will you be going straight away to pick up your results?" Harry asked, over the phone.

"Probably." 

"Are you brushing your teeth over the phone?"

Harry overheard Draco spit out his toothpaste. "Yes. Sorry, I'm just trying to get ready early. Trying to distract myself, you know?"

"Have you... you know?"

"No- no, course not." Draco sighed. "I'm trying not to, I swear. I genuinely think that August Sixth was a fluke."

"I don't know how you remember that date."

"Cause it's the day before our anniversary." 

Harry could practically hear Draco smiling, because he was smiling too, despite it being over the phone. 

"I love how you call it an anniversary even though we've been together for like two, nearly three weeks." 

Draco shut the door behind him, meaning he was back in his own room. "It's a date we'll have to remember for next year, and the year after."

Harry was blushing madly. "You're in this for the long run?"

"I'm in this for the long run."

"You can't go back on that now. You're stuck with me forever."

Draco laced up his signature black Air Forces, as Harry laced up his black Converse high tops. "I'll be stuck with you happily. But you're stuck with me forever, then."

"Gladly."

"One moment." 

Draco had gone quiet, but Harry could overhear shouting in the background. Were his parents arguing again?

"I'll be taking him to get his results."

"No, I will. I gave birth to him."

"Really? Really, Narcissa? That's the card you're playing. I'll be taking my son. You can sit here and do nothing as always."

"Nothing? I run this house. I'm the one that actually helps out with the maids. You just do god knows what in your stupid office."

"Making the money that you don't."

It was silent for a moment, as if Narcissa was holding back what she wanted to say. And she was. 

Narcissa made enough money. Enough to keep herself stable, her son, and even her husband if she wanted to. She, without anyone knowing, designed outfits for rich people, and had other people make them for her.