laraF's nest

“Technically, it’s not even Christmas yet but merry-merry, have a Harry-merry-lil Christmas, Draco darling!”

The Weird Sisters were raging on the platform that the invisible musicians must have wisely evacuated amongst all the chaos. As far as Draco’s eyes could see the ballroom lost its elegance and degraded into a cage of wild, intoxicated, dancing animals. No better word for the students taking up and heating up the space the professors have long ago abandoned. Exceptionally wise of them. He saw Theo and Blaise dancing like lunatics, or a pair of peacocks showing off their impressive feathers. Pansy’s hand seemed to be glued to her hundredth glass of alcohol; her eyes were wide and crazed, her grip like iron but she walked as straight as a mannequin. Even Vince and Goyle were dancing, and Draco had to snort when he noticed Millicent and Abott running around them, like they were trees on a field.

“Hmmm, you too, Pansy honey.”

Pansy scrunched up his nose. She really shouldn’t do that so frequently – it was so pug-like that Draco had to snort into his drink.

“Potter can all be yours, sweetie, all I need is power and money, thank you.”

“How very romantic.” The music stopped and the chatter amplified tenfold when Blaise reappeared at their side. He shot Pansy an almost tender look. Now Draco had to force himself from rolling his eyes knowingly. “I can offer you intrigue and the latest fashion gossip mom drilled into my head.” He offered an arm too, and Pansy took it with a superior nod.

“I’ve seen Potter enter with Weasley and the Irish dude like, thirty minutes ago, or some,” Theo butted in.

“Where?” Draco’s nose trembled like a hound’s.

“I’m pretty sure he’s trying to drown himself in the punch bowl at the moment.”

“Potter!”

Draco elbowed his way to the long table laden with food and drinks. The lower year students who provided server-duties earlier abandoned their position in favor of partying. Someone probably went down into the kitchen and sucked up to the house-elves, because Draco saw alcohol everywhere. They were lucky Snape voluntarily holed himself up in the dungeon.

“’s up, Draco?” slurred Potter. He was slumping on an ornately decorated chair.

“Your reputation.” He wordlessly spelled away the grime and blood from the boy’s simple dark green robes. He looked delectable; hair tousled in every which way, face rosy from the consumed alcohol and eyes drooping. Those electric green eyes… He had some scratches on his neck. Draco’s nails dug deep into his palms to stop himself from reaching out. “The Heir of Slytherin.” Draco tried to push down the envy he felt. He liked Potter, Merlin knew he liked him a lot, but fate sometimes played cruel tricks on his victims. He didn’t have any reason to complain about his life – he was handsome, rich, clever and talented. He had bigger political influence in a pathetic school than Fudge in the whole Wizarding World and a definitely bright future was looking ahead for him. It still seemed unfair that Potter, whose perfection was infuriating already, inherited the most prestigious title a wizard or witch could have in their day and age. It was annoying and sexy and unbelievable.

He had to marry him, at least. He saw no other option here, really. His dad was probably going to have an aneurysm but Draco was willing to take that risk.

“Pls don’ hate me, Draco.”

Those imploring, Slytherin-green eyes…! Draco was so far gone.

“I don’t…”

A snap of colorful smoke and a shrill, forced girlish shriek interrupted whatever he was about to confess right then and there.

“Ah! Young love! Pardon me, but Harry Potter, the Heir of Slytherin and Draco Malfoy, wizarding Britain’s most prestigious young heir? Your epic love story is going to take tomorrow’s headlines, boys! And now, young Draco, how does it feel to be the one…”

Draco didn’t have time to voice his anger because in that second Harry stood up. All signs of drunkenness were gone – and he wasn’t tall by any means, but the regal figure he cut amongst the pathetic, tipsy crowd was so striking it seemed to stop time. The poison green eyes shined with something akin to malice, and suddenly Harry’s wand was in his hands; long green sparks burst from the tip, scorching the stone under their feet.

Rita Skeeter gulped and almost toppled over her equally frightened photographer.

Draco’s heart seemed to beat out of his chest.

Potter’s mouth opened and the most sinister hissing sound left it that Draco ever heard. He got goosebumps, faintly acknowledging the gasps and hurrying steps all around them.

“It’s time for you to leave, Miss Skeeter,” Draco heard Weasley’s fake-polite voice but didn’t see him most definitely escorting the hag out. His eyes were all for Potter.

Potter’s energy seemed to burn high. He grabbed Draco’s wrist – the point where their skin met burned, searing hot.

As soon as they left the ballroom and the pairs of students who sneaked out to snog in the shadows he deflated though and almost fall on Draco’s shoulders. Draco on his part couldn’t feel anything beyond all the blood rushing up and down in his body.

“I can only speak parcel… parsa… – His brows furrowed. Draco wanted to kiss him. – Hiss-hiss when there’s a snakk.”

“… You mean, snake?”

“Yup!” He beamed up at him and Draco was neck-deep in love; heady and all-consuming. “She’s such a bish. Got ahed ofme. Telling you. That I love you. Bish.”

“… What?” Draco lost his touch with reality a bit.

“Love. Me. You,” he gesticulated wildly between them. “Marriage, kids. Shit,wasn’t s’posed to say that. Yet. Hehe. Uhm.”

“I’m warning you; I don’t care that you’re drunk, I’m going to lord this over you since the day we die.”

On the next day Skeeter had the most memorable peak of her dubious career. Outside of the million little sordid details she published about honorable members of their society with gleeful satisfaction she gave the necessary push two lovesick boys needed. She couldn’t have known that her “scandalous and revealing” piece about an imagined relationship between The Harry Potter and The Draco Malfoy would be the first step in their long and happy life together.

Lucius Malfoy didn’t get that aneurysm but ‘til the end of his life his eyes were ticking uncontrollably whenever he was in his son-in-law’s presence.

crash and burning

young and learning