“Get up, you arse.” Someone kicks at his bed, and Draco groans and covers his face in the pillow. It’s taken away a moment later. He groans again and throws an arm across his eyes to avoid the light. He hears a groan. “Merlin, but you’re lazy.”
Draco flips his sister off easily. She snorts, and a second later, Draco’s hit by ice cold water.
He yelps, and Ginny’s laugh echoes even as she runs out of the room. He grabs his wand from under his pillow and chases after her. They run down the stairs, past their parents’ room, then past the dining room – the table’s full, but Draco doesn’t bother to stop – and finally Draco corners her in the kitchen, pointing his wand at her menacingly.
“Hi, honey.” Molly kisses his cheek as she steps into the kitchen, stepping forward to kiss Ginny’s cheek too, completely unfazed by the scene in front of her. “No cursing each other before breakfast, you know that.”
“She woke me up!” Draco complains. Molly simply hums and shoots a drying spell at him.
“I was told to wake you up.” Ginny grins. She sticks her tongue out at him, and he scowls. “Don’t make that face, you’ll get wrinkles.”
“As if I could ever.” Draco rolls his eyes.
“When you two are done you can join us for breakfast.” Their mom calls out as she leaves the kitchen.
“Harpy,” He says.
“Hippogriff,” Ginny shoots back sweetly.
Draco huffs and rolls his eyes. They step out to the dining room, and Draco’s momentarily frozen by the sight of Harry fucking Potter – Ron’s best friend, savior of the wizarding world as a one year old, and Draco’s crush for longer than he’ll ever admit to anyone – sitting at the table.
“Oh, right.” Ginny says with a wicked smirk. “I was supposed to tell you Harry was here.”
“Hullo,” Potter smiles at him, and Draco feels the color rising to his cheeks quickly. Fred and George snicker, and Draco sends them a venomous glare.
“I, uh.” He hears Ginny snickering beside him, and he elbows her in the ribs, making her yelp. “What are we eating?”
He wants to sit as far from Potter as he possibly can – he always ends up making a fool out of himself in front of the stupid git – but there’re only two seats left, one in front of him and one next to him.
Ginny quickly takes the one in front of him.
Draco flips her off, and she smiles back.
“Hi Draco,” Thankfully, Granger’s sitting in front of him – she’s spent the summer here – and unlike Potter or Ron, she seems to have a fair idea of Draco’s crush on Potter. As mortifying as that is, she’s never mentioned it, and she always pretends Draco’s not just made a fool of himself, so he likes her. “How was your summer?”
“Fine,” He says, desperately trying to ignore the way Potter’s arm – his shoulders broadened this summer, and he’s grown a foot and a half, and he looks so good Draco wants to hex something – brushes against him every time he moves. “Yours?”
“Good,” She brushes a bit of her hair back. Her dark skin’s glowing with the light that streams in through the kitchen window, and she’s wearing a dark yellow sundress that suits her nicely. “Are you excited for your sixth year?”
Ron, Potter, and Granger are going into seventh year, but since he’s a year younger, he’s going into Sixth year, along with Ginny.
“No one’s excited for school, ‘Mione.” Potter groans beside him, and Draco wishes to all gods his face wouldn’t get so red every single time Potter opens his mouth. By now, he wouldn’t be surprised if Potter thought pink was his actual skin tone.
“This nerd is,” Ron snickers, and Draco shoots him an angry glare.
“I’m not a nerd.” He hisses, reaching across Potter to pinch Ron’s arm. He yelps, flinching, and Draco gives him a self-satisfied smile. It’s Ron who glares this time.
“You are,” Fred and George confirm. “You were almost sorted into Ravenclaw!”
The hat also considered Slytherin, but Draco’s never told anyone that. Its final decision – Hufflepuff – is the only thing that matters, after all.
“It was not that close,” It was. “And not all Ravenclaws are nerds!”
“And there’s nothing wrong with liking school!” Hermione says. She glares at Ron and Potter. “Right?”
“Yes!” Potter says.
“Of course not, ‘Mione.” Ron soothes, and Ginny and Draco smirk at each other. His crush on Hermione is painfully obvious, and for all the brains Hermione has, Draco doesn’t think she knows. “He’s my baby brother though, I’m allowed to tease him.”
“I’m not a baby,” Draco says, fighting the urge to pout.
“You’re the youngest one of us.” Ginny says. She always enjoys reminding him of that, because that means she’s older than at least one person in the family. “And you’re a Hufflepuff. You need protection.”
Draco scoffs and rolls his eyes, but he can’t think of anything to say.
For all that they tease him for being a Hufflepuff and say that he’s a softie and that he needs them – big, strong, Gryffindors to protect him – they all know that he shoots the meanest stinging hex any of them have experienced.
“We’re going to Diagon today.” Their mother informs them. “Are Sirius and Remus joining us, Harry dear?”
“No,” Potter says. “It’s their eighteenth anniversary soon, so they left for Tahiti today.”
“Oh, congratulate them for us!” Arthur says.
“Sure thing, Mr. Weasley.” Potter smiles kindly.
Draco bites into his toast.
“Will you be spending the rest of the summer with us?” Molly asks.
Draco chokes on his toast.
Potter pounds on his back quickly, and everyone looks at him worriedly.
“Are you okay?” Potter asks, a small frown between his brows. Draco wants to soothe it away with his thumb.
“Fine.” He says, voice higher-pitched than he’d like. He sees Ginny, Fred, and George snickering from their seats, and Hermione’s looking at him pitifully. He swallows. “I’m fine.”
After another worried look at him, Potter clears his throat.
“Yes, Mrs. Weasley, if that’s okay with you.” He says.
“Of course it’s okay with us, honey!” Molly says. “You know you’re always welcome!”
That means that, like every other summer Potter’s spent here, he’ll be sleeping in Ron and Draco’s room, in Draco’s bed, which means Draco’s sharing with someone. Usually, he’d just sleep in Ginny’s room, but Hermione’s sleeping in her room, which means there’s no space for him there.
Which means Draco will end up either sharing a bed with Fred or George, because Ron’s completely impossible to sleep with. Charlie’s, Bill’s, and Percy’s rooms are not being used at the moment, but Draco’s not dumb enough to go into any of them. Charlie’s left enough Dragon related things there when he’s come back home, and some of them are very fragile, and Bill’s a fucking curse-breaker, and he’s not very neat. Draco doesn’t want to end up cursed.
“We can share, if you want.” Potter says to Draco, because he knows he sleeps in his bed. “I don’t mind.”
Draco does. He very, very much does mind sharing a bed with Potter because the last thing he needs right now is Potter finding out he has a crush on him because of Draco’s stupid sleep-talking.
“You’d mind, Harry.” Fred says brightly. “The brat sleep-talks. And sleep-walks. And moves around. He can share with Georgie.”
“Or with Fred,” George grins, and Draco shoots them a grateful look, because they tease him a lot about Harry, but they’d never make him stay in a situation where he’s uncomfortable.
They’ve their own place since they opened Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, but they always come back home for the summer. It makes Draco happier than he’d care to admit; he likes his brothers, even if they make his life impossible for sport.
“I’ll figure that out later,” he clears his throat. “I’m going to take a shower.”
And he leaves the dining room.
Since he was the last one awake, everyone else is already ready, so he has to shower and dress quickly. He pulls on muggle denims and a worn green jumper that used to be one of his brother’s, though he doesn’t know which. It fits him four sizes too big, so he suspects it must be Bill’s, but, to be honest, everyone in his family is rather tall but him, so it could be anyone’s.
They go to Diagon Alley, and they’ve barely been there for a minute when Draco catches a flash of flawless dark skin.
“Draco!” Blaise Zabini’s a Slytherin his year, and though they’re not in the same house, him and Pansy Parkinson are Draco’s best friends.
They became friends because the three of them spend a lot of time in detention. When McGonagall had come back from leaving them cleaning trophies and had seen matching looks of mischief on their faces, she’d nearly fainted. The three of them had just grinned.
“Blaise!” Draco grins. “How are you?”
They get out of people’s way – Diagon’s completely full with parents buying their children’s things – and stand outside of Flourish and Blott’s, where Draco’s family goes into.
“Good. How was your summer?”
Draco hums, non-comital.
“Was that Potter I saw?” Blaise looks at him knowingly, and Draco’s face heats.
“I don’t, uh, I don’t like him… anymore… I-” Blaise gives him a deadpan look, and the color in Draco’s face deepens. “I have no idea what I’m going to do. He’s going to be staying at the burrow for the rest of the summer, Blaise! What am I going to do?”
“Wank a lot?” Blaise snickers, and Draco goes tomato red, shoving at his best friend’s shoulder.
“Shut it.” He hisses.
“Calm down, blondie.” Blaise says. “I won’t offend your delicate Hufflepuff sensibilities.”
“What’re we talking about?” Pansy asks, popping her gum as she appears out of nowhere. She’s wearing fishnets, heavily ripped muggle denim – she’s gotten into wearing and watching muggle things just to piss her parents off – and a crop top from a muggle band that Draco doesn’t recognize.
Her hair’s tied high in a messy knot, strands of it loose at her temples and the nape of her neck.
“About how Draco wanks while thinking of Potter,” Blaise says solemnly.
Pansy kisses both of them on the cheek as Draco yelps at Blaise’s statement.
“Happens to all of us, darling.” She says empathetically.
“I don’t – hey!” Draco says angrily.
She laughs. “Calm down. You look like an angry kitten.”
Draco looks away, embarrassed, and rolls his eyes. “You’re not even into boys.”
“I know.” Pansy says. “Have you seen the Patil twins? Or Lovegood? Or Merlin, your sister, Draco? Honestly, how could one be into boys with so many pretty girls walking around? Granger’s also plain dreamy.”
“Don’t, you wrench.” Draco warns. “My brother likes her.”
“I know. Granger’s only got eyes for him, anyway.” Pansy sighs sadly.
“Hey, Draco,” Potter peeks his head out of the bookstore. “Are you coming in?”
“Uh, yeah. Almost. I’m – we’re – yeah. In a bit.” Draco does his best to smile.
Potter smiles back, frowning lightly, and as soon as he goes back in, Draco hits his head against the wall repeatedly.
Pansy sends a questioning look at Blaise.
“Potter is going to be staying at Draco’s house.” He explains. “He doesn’t know what he’s going to do because he’s been hopelessly in love with the scar-headed prat for the better of six years.”
“Oh,” Pansy says. “I say snog him.”
Draco snorts from where he’s still banging his head against the wall. “As if.”
Pansy grabs his shoulders and pulls him away from the wall.
“I’m serious!” she says. “It’s the perfect opportunity! He’s your brother’s best friend, he’s staying at your house! Just wear something slutty around the house.”
“Pansy!” Draco hisses.
“That’d definitely work.” Blaise nods approvingly. “I mean, Potter’s bi, right? He’s got eyes, and your arse is spectacular. Flaunt it. Maybe bend over.”
Pansy nods knowingly.
“I’m not going to do that!” Draco says indignantly.
“We’ll call it plan B.” Pansy says agreeably. Blaise nods.
“No!” Draco says.
“Definitely.” Blaise says. “Oh, and flirt with him. A lot.”
“Hey, brat!” Fred calls. Draco looks at him. He hadn’t noticed, but apparently his parents are done shopping and they’re heading to the next place. “We’re leaving! Come on!”
“Coming!” Draco calls back.
“We’ll see you at Hogwarts.” Blaise says. “Hopefully you’ll have gotten into Potter’s pants by then.”
Draco flips him off.