Drarry: Starting Over

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes: Draco

The following Saturday, Draco pushed open the door to George's shop with his elbow at eight in the morning, two coffees in his hands, and a tune on his lips. The people of Diagon Alley stood even closer to him today, and he was greeted with barely any remarks. "Morning, Weasley. Where's Potter?" He asked George.

"In the back. You're unusually pleasant."

"I've had a good week. Goodbye, Weasley." Draco entered the back room, which had a myriad of wizard products, two fancy outfits that used to be worn to run the shop, and one brown shaggy-haired boy with glasses.

"Morning, Potter." Draco tried to hide to enthusiasm in his voice, to no avail.

"Malfoy. You going to give me one of those coffees?"

"No, they're both for me." Draco picked one up, and was about to have a sip when Harry snatched it out of his hand and took a large swig for himself.

"Ahh! I think I burnt my tongue!" Harry said, dropping the cup down on a shelf, where a little liquid splashed out the opening, and onto the wood.

"Honestly, Potter, don't you know these things. You have to sip. Look, you've make a right mess. Tergeo." Draco pointed his wand at the small coffee stain. "There. Is your tongue alright?"

"Fine, thanks."

       Draco knew what he wanted to say next. He took a deep breath, thinking back to the day eight years ago when he had extended his hand out to Potter, and did the same now. "Harry Potter, will you go on a date with me? Tomorrow?"

       Harry let out a happy laugh, and took his hand. "Yes. But you have to help out at the shop, today and tomorrow."

       "My pleasure."