spellbound heart

𝐃𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

Author: heyitsamorette

Summary:

Draco is an Auror trainee. They have dueling practice every week. All dueling really amounts to is a game of domination and submission.

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Draco was a good dueler. Scratch that, he was a great dueler.. He was quick with the cast, the magic barreling through his arm and out his wand before he finished uttering the incantation. His spells shot like daggers, one strike, two, three... until his opponent collapsed on the floor in a chest-heaving heap.

"Enough," Robards said.

Draco straightened and put his arm down. He looked up at the circle of faces, curious about who was scared or who was disgusted. A vindictive part of him smirked at the apprehension he saw.

The new Auror recruits--his comrades--were brave and strong, many of them having fought against the Death Eaters in one way or another last year, but none of them could rival Draco.

None except Potter.

And only Potter held his gaze after each duel, each time Draco beat yet another trainee. The circle of faces blurred together until Potter's gaze shone clear and intent.

Draco's fingers squeezed the handle of his wand. It was Potter's turn.

Robards nodded at him. "Potter, you're up."

Harry stepped forward as soon as Robards said his name.

Draco tried not to smirk, he really did, but it was like he couldn't even help it whenever he looked at Potter. The boy was too honest and genuine, and Draco could read the challenge all over his face. Potter was revved up for a good fight, and Draco's body thrummed in response. It was always that spike of adrenaline with Potter. He was the only one who still wasn't scared.

It hadn't always been that way. When Draco had first entered training, everyone was eager to duel him, to punish him both for his misdeeds and for his gall to join the Aurors. One by one they stepped up with cocky airs and faced him in the dueling circle, and one by one Draco turned them into quivering puddles on the floor. Draco wasn't only good, he was merciless. They soon learned that.

The only person Draco ever lost to was Potter.

Not that he tried very hard.

And Potter knew it.

The fact that it pissed Potter off made it ridiculously fun.

Potter came up close to him, their noses almost touching. "You're going to try your hardest, Malfoy." And that was the damn thing about Potter. He didn't request it, he demanded it.

Something had gone wonky in Draco's brain after the war, like it was longer trying to deny how ridiculously fucking attractive Potter was. Especially that abrupt and forceful manner of his. Like right now.

"Do you hear me, Malfoy?" Potter frowned. "Don't play with me."

"Whatever could you mean?"

"You know what I mean," Potter snapped. "I want you to try as hard as you try with everyone else."

"Aw, that's right, you don't like being treated special, do you Potter?"

Potter's cheeks went the slightest bit red. "You're going to give me your hardest."

Draco grinned.

"If you two could get on with it," Robards said, "before you start snogging, that would be wonderful."