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you know when little kids are told to smile for the camera and they do the biggest grin bc they aren’t self conscious about their teeth yet they just give it their all.. that’s wat this looks like
Oh my god okay I’m so fucking excited for literally any fic you write from this little prompt challenge.
My prompt for you: Slytherin!Harry getting Ravenclaw!Draco to tutor him on potions or the subject of your choice; lots of flirting and tension and dijwbdjdjdns.
(TOTALLY get it if this doesn’t inspire. Go with your muse. I’ll eat up anything that comes from your brain)
Draco was completely mental to be doing this. The very idea was preposterous but to be actually proceeding with it?
I mean, it was Potter.
Draco stood outside the classroom they had agreed upon, clutching his books, practicing the script he’d spent three hours on, over and over in his head.
’“There you are, Potter”,’ he murmured on repeat. ‘It’s “There you are, Potter”, not “There you are, Potter”. Spit out the “Potter”, you sound positively giddy with happiness otherwise. And for heaven’s sake don’t let him kiss you this time. What a menace, honestly. “There you are, Potter. There you are, Potter”…’
He stepped into the classroom. It was nearly dusk and the room shone violently orange which was rapidly darkening. Potter hadn’t lit the torches. He was sitting - no, lounging - on a seat in the first row with his feet propped up on the table, arms crossed, wand tucked behind his ear.
He smirked when he saw Draco, an indecent twist of the lips made even more worrying by the promise that gleamed in his eyes.
'Here I am, Potter!’ said Draco shrilly and dropped his books.
Potter let his chair fall forward with a thud, the tips of his hair gleaming orange in the sun. He got to his feet and made his way over to Draco, who just stood there.
Potter stopped, waved his hand, caught Draco’s books as they floated up.
'Here you are, Malfoy,’ he said sweetly.
Only twenty minutes later, Draco was sure he was about to be violently sick.
Potter smelled incredible. He was also extremely warm which was definitely why Draco was so warm and also sweating everywhere and it felt unreal to even be sitting next to Potter, tutoring him for their Potions N.E.W.T.
'So, before we add the hellabore,’ Potter frowned down at the bird-scratchings that were his notes, 'we need to simmer for eighteen minutes because otherwise the scorpion venom will curdle?’
'That can’t be what you’ve written down,’ Draco said, aghast. 'Why in heaven’s name would a venom even curdle in the first place?! It’s a venom! Class 7 substance! Non-reactive until it touches blood! This was covered in fourth year!’
His voice had gotten higher and louder with each word and by the end of it, Potter was grinning at him.
'Show me that,’ snapped Draco, wrenching Potter’s notes to himself and shoving on his glasses.
He squinted down at word shaped scribble. He could read five languages but this wasn’t in any one of those. On the top right corner of the page, Potter had drawn a plump heart.
Inside the heart was written “DM”.
Draco’s face suddenly felt hotter than the setting sun. He pushed the sheaf of parchment back at Potter.
'I can’t even decipher that atrocious rubbish,’ he muttered, his glasses slipping down his sweaty nose. 'Venom can’t curdle. We simmer to let the fairy wings dissolve completely. Next.’
Potter cleared his throat delicately, hunching over his notes again.
'So, once we’ve added the hellabore,’ he said, voice full of something that made Draco’s face grow even hotter, 'we stir clockwise–’
'Counter clockwise.’
'Right, counter clockwise, and then we add the moon salt and the Ogden’s?’
Draco nodded along as Potter read, his knee bouncing uncontrollably next to Potter’s solid thigh, his mind filled with absolute chaos.
'Yes, yes, right,’ he said. 'Moon salt and two measures of Og– Wait, what?! Ogden’s?!
He ripped the notes out of Potter’s hands but Potter was already laughing. Draco shoved the sheaf back at him, glowering.
'Look, Potter, I told you,’ he shouted. 'I warned you that I don’t have the time nor the inclination to put up with any of your nonsense! I knew you–’
'I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ Potter laughed, holding up his hands in surrender.
’–only to mess around with me but I agreed because everyone knows you’re a giant dunderhead who can’t even brew a simple Sleeping Draught if his life depended on it–’
'Now now, is that fair?’ Potter said calmly.
’–told Hermione that you would faff about, I don’t even know why she’s friends with you, I’ve tried to understand why for seven years–’
'We’re friends because she actually gave me a chance?’ drawled Potter.
’–but I am done. I tried to do the right thing, the good thing, but you’re just absolutely beyond incorrigible with your abominable hair and your untucked shirts and your revolting fan club–’
Draco had years worth of spewing left to do but suddenly he just couldn’t.
Because Potter had dragged him in by the tie and kissed him, this time square on the mouth. Harry Potter was kissing him, Draco Malfoy, right on the mouth.
'Fuck,’ Draco said, and walked faster. His stomach did a little swoosh swoosh and a little hoppity hop and that made him scowl so he said, 'Fuck,’ again.
'I know you heard me,’ said Potter cheerfully falling into step beside him, leaning in to speak quietly into Draco’s ear. The hairs on the back of Draco’s neck sprang up.
He walked faster still. He was very late and the library would close and Pince would charge him a late fee for Beikoff’s Brave Brews - A Venture Into Modern Potion Brewing, and it wouldn’t even be a fair fee, honestly, she demanded the most bizarre numbers, the bint.
'Of course I heard you,’ Draco said and he did not look at Potter. No, he stared straight ahead and walked with purpose. Maybe even stuck his nose up a bit. 'My ears work just fine.’
'Yeah, not like your eyes.’
'What? My eyes work just fine too.’
'Really, Malfoy, what eighteen year old wears reading glasses?’
'It’s hereditary!’ Draco said indignantly, stopping and swivelling around to face him. His cheeks felt very hot. 'And look who’s talking?! You’ve been four eyed since you were, what? Six?!’
'I don’t need them to read, though,’ Potter said, grinning gleefully. He was always grinning. He had such white teeth and he grinned so wide and they shone against his lovely brown skin. His eyes shone too. They were very pretty and they shone. Behind ugly glasses. Aha!
'Your glasses are ugly,’ Draco said. 'They’re not even very trendy. Did you take them from your grandfather?’
But Dracodid not wait for an answer and stomped off with ahmphbecause Potter was looking at him again. Looking. Like that.
Like he thought Draco was adorable. Like he wanted to touch Draco. To hold him like he were a…a little dormouse or something, and…and kiss him and pet his head and show him off to all his horrid, Slytherin friends.
Like he wanted to swallow Draco whole.
'Malfoy?’
Draco was staring. Again. At Potter. Draco was staring at Potter with his mouth a wee tiny little bit open and his eyes were unfocused and probably glazed over.
Potter’s grin was now predatory.
'Lubrication!’ Draco blurted out. Practically shouted it. He then had to focus very hard on not fainting.
Potter, his eyes enormous, raised his bushy eyebrows very high.
'Beg pardon?’ he asked, voice vibrating with horrible, perverted glee.
'I– I’m on medications, Potter, I’m very sick!’ Draco announced shrilly.
'Oh? What’s wrong, Malfoy?’
’It’s dryness!’ Draco snapped. ’When the eyes aren’t– aren’t wet, they get dry.’ Absolutely incredible. To think of his IQ. He might as well be a Slytherin. 'And so I’m taking potions. To make them wet.’
Potter wasn’t grinning anymore. He was looking at Draco very intently.
'Okay,’ Potter said slowly.
'So– so that’s why they were like that, that’s why my eyes looked like that just now,’ Draco spoke quickly now. He had things to do, books to return, essays to write, other books to read, pillows to scream into.
'Look like what?’
'Glazed over,’ Draco said impatiently. 'When the eyes get dry, they look glazed over. Eyes are very delicate, Potter, they need constant lubrication or else they can get, well, dry. Fuck. 'And itchy.’ Fuck. 'And so just now when I was staring at you, I mean gazing at you, I mean I was not gazing, not gazing.’ Fuck. Oh, fuck. 'I think gazing requires more and very intense looking, like in Astronomy? With stars? Through a telescope.’ Astronomical fuck.
Potter’s grin was back. It was so…so salacious. And evil. Really, Slytherins were all so terrible and perverted and…so bad. Bad people.
Draco’s back hit the wall. What. How why? Well, okay, but only because his knees were shaking and he really, really needed the support.
Potter needed the support too, apparently, because he planted one hand on the wall. Right next to Draco’s head.
Draco’s eyes darted, without permission, to look at the hand. Wide hand, very big. Hairy knuckles. Bitten nails with dirt under them. So uncouth, honestly. Yuck, bleurgh oh Potter’s face was very close.
Draco hugged his book very tightly because he needed comfort he needed strength Potter looked very strong, he was always flying, my god Potter’s chest had to be, what, 45 inches wide?
'Malfoy,’ Potter purred. He was so repulsive, honestly, whose voice sounds like that, maybe Draco should punch him in the throat. 'Are all you Ravenclaws this cute?’
Maybe Draco would punch him in the throat over his Adam’s apple, his neck was really elegant actually, Potter had excellent bone structure.
'I really am curious because you’re the only nerd– er, Ravenclaw I ever look at. I mean, gaze at.’
Potter’s dirty, dirty smirk, his other big hand in his pocket, ugh such a reprehensible lack of manners.
'But I can still say that, you are, by far, the cutest nerd-o-claw in the whole damn school,’ Potter reached up and touched the tip of Draco’s nose. 'Boop,’ he said softly.
Potter had touched Draco’s face. Just like that. And he had said the word “boop”. His chest was definitely at least 38 inches broad, exactly 38, Draco was ready to wager and my god did Potter never get a haircut? How did one read with such masses of hair in one’s green eyes all the time.
'But then you know that,’ said Potter. 'You’ve always known that.’
Broad chest, dry eyes, very nice neck, late library book - yes good, a comprehensive list.
'I’ve been telling you for years,’ Potter murmured with a little tilt of his head.
He leaned right in and pressed a kiss to Draco’s cheek.
'If only you paid attention, Malfoy,’ Potter frowned, but his eyes twinkled, ’Tut tut. Some Ravenclaw.’
Potter shook his head and backed away. Still shaking his head he winked at Draco. Then he walked off, throat bobbing with laughter.
'Later, sweetheart,’ he chimed over his shoulder.
Pince was going to drain the Malfoy vaults. It really had to be illegal.
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