Uncontrollably Fond

Smitten.

Pansy whining, "I can't believe Draco has more followers than even me!" was what Draco walked into when he entered their shared eighth year dorm that evening.

"What are you even talking about, Pans? It hasn't even been an hour since I downloaded that sodding app." Draco grumbled, slumping down between Hermione and Pans with all the grace of a Pureblood-heir.

"Harry helped with the entire thing anyway", Draco muttered to an annoyed Pansy, flipping his hand dismissively. Pansy grumbled, crossing her arms petulantly almost resembling an angry little chihuahua or so Draco liked to think.

Hermione sighed deeply, rolling her eyes at Pansy's incessant ranting. She wondered for the hundredth time how she came to be so used to the Slytherin's weird obsession with popularity, clearly being above ridiculous things such as Instagram followers herself.

"I haven't even crossed six thousand yet and you're already at fifty thousand!", Pansy huffed before murmuring in a quieter tone for only Draco to hear, "I shan't admit this even on pain of death, but Potter does have good taste." 

Draco smirked when he peeked at Pansy's phone and found her now stalking Potter. He trailed his gaze appreciatively over that delectable picture of Harry's he was admiring by the lake that afternoon "He sure does, doesn't he? Speaking of Potter and his tastes...", Draco waited till both the witches on either side of him allowed him to have their complete attention.

"Ladies, I have an enquiry to make of you. It's a suspicion, rather. You two are the single most observing and devious women I've met in my life besides my mother and I don't know anyone I can trust enough to tell me what I need to hear while also keeping this entire conversation to themselves," Draco continued, a touch of hesitance colouring his tone.

Despite all of Pansy's mouthiness, she was at the end of the day Draco's best friend, he'd trust her with his life. And while he hadn't had much time getting to know Hermione, he did spend half of his life glaring at her from the Slytherin tables for being able to call Harry Potter her best friend. And from all he's seen he knew the fierce witch would never take anything involving her beloved friend lightly.

Hermione squeezed his hand and with a comforting smile said, "You can talk to us Draco". While Pansy, the bint, sighed long and dramatically as if she were being made to suffer the world's weight on her dainty shoulders. Though she did let her phone fall on the space beside her, which was her version of a hand squeeze since she never seemed to be able to put the damned contraption down.

Draco wouldn't be surprised if he found that Pansy bathed with it and had conversations with the weird lady inside the phone when no one was around.

"The compliment was a nice touch, at least. What troubles you, darling?", Pansy drawled. Draco counted backwards from ten in his head before exhaling deeply. "I figured that I rather fancy Potter... Oh fuck it, I am actually in love with him. 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺. Quite a bit madly, in fact. And I don't know what to do about it", Draco admitted quietly.

However, to his ears even the quiet whisper seemed to reverberate loudly, the words ringing in his ears.

Hermione and Pansy will never realise the significance of this moment, never realise how much it took out of Draco to finally admit those words out loud.

This isn't something he was used to.

Words of love, affection and adoration weren't something Draco grew up around.

His father never said he loved him or was proud of him, no, instead Draco found the most expensive little wixen's potions kit or the latest child friendly brooms money could buy whenever he did something his father approved of. And while his mother was much more affectionate, sometimes bestowing a delicate kiss to his forehead or sending him his favourite éclairs from his preferred bakery in Paris, Narcissa too had never spoken those words aloud to him.