another drarry one-shot

The Forgotten Date (That Was Never Real)

Draco Malfoy was bored.

Not just I'm-sick-of-homework bored. Not even Hogwarts-is-dull-today bored.

No, this was tragically neglected boyfriend boredom.

For the past week, Harry had been "busy." With what, Draco didn't know—Order business, tutoring, some Gryffindor thing, who knew. All Draco knew was that he had not been snogged in at least six days, and his dramatic soul could not withstand such cruelty.

So, naturally, when he spotted Harry in the corridor between lunch and Charms, he made a plan.

A wicked, beautiful plan.

"Potter!"

Harry turned, bright-eyed and sweaty from Quidditch practice, a rolled-up broomstick slung over his shoulder.

"Draco! Hey—"

Draco cut him off with a pout. "I can't believe you forgot."

Harry blinked. "Forgot what?"

"Our date, obviously," Draco said, crossing his arms.

Harry went still. "Our—wait, what?"

Draco tilted his head, just the right mix of wounded and smug. "You said Thursday. That we'd do something special. You promised."

Harry's face went through seven stages of panic in three seconds.

"Oh—oh shit," he breathed. "I—Merlin, I did—"

Draco tapped a finger to his lips, pretending to think. "But I suppose if you're too busy..."

"No!" Harry said instantly, practically tossing his broom over his shoulder. "No, I'll fix it. I'll—um. Just meet me in the Astronomy Tower tonight at seven. I've got it. Totally."

Draco gave him a slow smile. "Really?"

Harry nodded so hard his glasses slipped.

"Hmm," Draco hummed. "Alright then."

He walked away, triumphant, coat swishing like a cape.

That evening, Draco arrived fashionably five minutes late, as was tradition. He expected maybe a picnic blanket, some sweets smuggled from the kitchens. He expected to have to hide his amusement when Harry inevitably bumbled through some last-minute plan.

What he didn't expect was this.

The Astronomy Tower had been transformed.

There were enchanted floating candles (a Slytherin green, he noted with delight), a table set with real silverware and covered in a deep navy cloth, and—most shockingly—Harry, standing beside it in a collared shirt and vest, looking nervous and ridiculously hot.

"Draco," he said, fidgeting. "I'm so sorry I forgot, but I—I put this together for you, and I hope it's okay—"

"You didn't forget," Draco said, stunned.

Harry blinked. "What?"

Draco stepped closer, looking around with wide eyes. "Harry... I made it up. There wasn't a date."

Pause.

Harry's mouth fell open. "You lied?"

"You were ignoring me!"

"I was studying for NEWTs and coordinating a mission to remove cursed mirrors from the third floor—" He cut himself off, then rubbed a hand over his face. "I can't believe I panicked and planned a romantic dinner over a fake date."

Draco looked around again. Then softly, "You panicked pretty impressively."

Harry finally laughed. "You're unbelievable."

"And yet," Draco said, sliding his arms around Harry's waist, "you're still completely in love with me."

"Unfortunately," Harry muttered, nuzzling into Draco's neck.

"Next time," Draco said smugly, "just schedule me into your week like any important magical artifact."

"I'll tattoo your name into my planner."

Draco leaned back, smiling. "Good. Now feed me, Potter."

And Harry did.

Later, as they lay tangled together on a conjured blanket under the stars, Draco whispered, "You know... the fake date might've been the best one yet."

Harry kissed his cheek. "Next time, just ask me for attention."

Draco grinned in the dark. "Where's the fun in that?" 

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