Draco had just exited Transfiguration classroom from detention, his mind was quite foggy from being kept in the tiny storeroom cleaning bird cages for transfiguration. What he really needed was a walk. So, he wandered around the courtyard and made his way down to the black lake, passing Peeves who tried to dunk buckets of mice on some first year's heads. He chuckled at the poltergeist and continued to the lake.
As Draco exited through the large wooden doors of the castle, he couldn't help but see a figure zooming over at the Quidditch pitch. It was like watching a bee zooming across a flower meadow from the distance, except the bee was coloured red and gold. He squinted his eyes and blocked out the sun with his hand and noticed it was none other than Harry Potter.
He smiled at the flying boy, zooming through the big goal hoops and around the stands. He liked the way Harry flew; it wasn't elegant like he could do but still had style. He wondered where he last put his own Nimbus 2001, he knew it wasn't in the locker rooms, nor at Malfoy Manor. It was probably in his dormitory. He sighed, wishing he had his broom so he could fly up to Harry and play whatever game he's playing up at the Quidditch pitch.
Draco walked over to the Quidditch pitch and watched as the figure of Harry came nearer. He went inside one of the Slytherin stands where everyone would be when watching Quidditch games in the Quidditch pitch and just sat there watching Harry fly. He was truly amazing on his broom. Although, the pants Harry was wearing seemed a little tight. He blushed; wondering why he was thinking of Harry's pants and how tight they were. He chuckled at himself and continued watching Harry fly around the pitch.
Harry just flew around the Quidditch pitch, trying to block all the negative thoughts he had been thinking all day. It's all he ever thinks about, negative, suicidal, and depressing thoughts. So far Flying does do its job of blocking those thoughts away. It just takes a long time for it to happen.
He was just flying through the middle goal post when he saw something, no, it was a someone sitting on the stands. He glanced over and noticed it was Draco Malfoy. Draco was just sitting there alone, staring blankly down at the stands below him with a smile. Harry thought Draco's smiles are extremely pretty and attractive without the sneers and the angered features. He wondered what the Slytherin was doing here, at the Quidditch pitch, all alone without Crabbe and Goyle. Harry just smiled; admiring Draco's attractiveness and beauty as he looked like he was thinking deeply about something and flew towards him.
As soon as Draco noticed something coming closer to him from the corner of his eye, he swiftly looked up to meet curious emerald green eyes. How long had Harry known he was here for? "Oh, hey Harry."
Harry smiled down at Draco from on his broom. The Slytherin's blonde hair was shining in the sunlight, making his locks look almost golden and Harry swore something inside him was fluttering. "Hello to you too. What are you doing here, Draco?"
Draco bit his lip, trying to come up with a good enough excuse instead of saying, 'I followed you over here because you're my crush and I also think you should get pants 1 sized bigger because your butt is very distracting'. How he wishes it was that easy to tell someone you like them. "I-, Um... I come out here sometimes to think. I have a lot of thinking places around Hogwarts that nobody really uses and if someone's there I just go to another one of my places." He flushed; he knew he kind of sounded like an idiot when stuttering.
Harry flew down onto the stands and sat next to Draco, placing his broom beside him and tucked his hands under his legs. "Oh," he said, a little intrigued about these places Draco has. He pondered if only Draco knows of these places. "Are these places very secretive or like under a tree?"
Draco looked Harry in the eyes. Those gorgeous warm green eyes that sparkle, but they seem off. They've always looked so dull and empty, but today they really do sparkle beautifully. "What do you mean secretive?" He knew he sounded stupid; he knew what Harry was talking about.
