I added dates at the top of each chapter. I also created an associated Hogwarts calendar (Hogsmeade days, holidays, Quidditch matches, and chapters (number only, so no spoilers)) that I will update as each chapter posts. You can find it on my tumblr, here: http://whimsicaldragonette.tumblr.com/19years
Sunday, October 15, 2017
The next time, Draco didn't even make in through the doors of the Great Hall before Harry caught him.
"Malfoy! Oi! Malfoy!" Harry yelled, bounding up beside him like an overexcite-able puppy with a bright grin and a picnic basket once again slung over one arm.
Draco rolled his eyes and sighed. "Again, Potter?" Secretly, though, he was delighted, and he suspected his face was not quite as standoffish as he might hope.
"I thought we could go to the library today," Harry said, jumping into a conversation Draco wasn't entirely sure he was ready for this early in the morning.
"At least let me grab a coffee, first," he pleaded, gazing longingly at the steaming cup that beckoned from his place at the head table. It was a vile drink, coffee - Astoria had introduced him to it, on one of their jaunts to the continent, and now he couldn't imagine starting his day without it.
Harry rummaged in the basket for a second, then tossed him a thermos. "One sugar. Dash of cream. Will that do?"
Draco opened the lid cautiously, avoiding the puff of fragrant steam that escaped, and then stuck his nose in, breathing in appreciatively. "Mmm. Yes. That's perfect." He looked up, frowning. "Hang on. How did you know how I take my coffee? Actually, how did you know I drink coffee in the morning at all?"
Harry shifted nervously from foot to foot. "Er, observation?"
Draco narrowed his eyes. "Potter. I have heard you called many things in my life - have called you most of them myself, in fact - and observant has never been one of them."
"Hey! I am, sometimes."
"Really? Come now, Potter. Surely you can't expect me to believe that."
"Well... OK... mostly about you. But I really am observant sometimes. It's just that most of the things people expect you to be observant about don't really interest me, I guess."
Draco raised his eyebrows. "And I do?"
"Er." Harry frowned. "Just... come on."
Draco sighed and followed Harry away from the Great Hall, after one last longing glance at the doors. "You do know," he said, after a few moments of walking in silence, "that there's no food allowed in the library?" He eyed the picnic basket hanging - quite conspicuously - over Harry's arm.
Harry turned to grin at him. "Oh, you know me. I like to live dangerously."
Draco snagged a candle from the nearest sconce and hurled it at the back of his head. Of course he caught it. Bloody seeker reflexes.
Harry stuck out his tongue, but the effect was ruined when Draco had to snag his sleeve to yank him back from the suit of armor he was about to crash into.
"Honestly, Potter," he drawled, shaking his head, "you're a bloody menace."
---
Some three-quarters of an hour later found them comfortably ensconced in a secluded table at the back of the library, the early morning light streaming through the narrow window behind them and lighting up the stacks of books that littered their table. Dust motes danced in the air around them, kicked up as they leafed through books and jotted notes. The picnic basket was stashed on the floor beneath their chairs, and they both reached down occasionally to sneak a stealthy bite. It all felt very covert and illicit, and Draco was surprised to find himself loving every minute.
"Ooh," Harry said, shoving his book under Draco's nose and jabbing his finger at a spot halfway down the page, "this is a good one."
"Obscuro vera", Draco read aloud - quietly, after a quick glance at Madam Pince, frowning at them from the front of the library - "Obscures that which is real. Most frequently countered by Revalio." He smiled involuntarily. "You're right - that is a good one."
Harry stared. "Did... did you just agree with me?"
Draco frowned. "No, Potter. Of course not. You really ought to see a mind-healer about these delusions, you know - you're clearly hallucinating."
"I'll show you hallucinating, you - "
Whatever Harry was about to call him was cut off as Madam Pince, looking just as stern and scary as when they were students, cleared her throat and stared over her spectacles at them. "Out."
Harry blanched. "We were, that is - "
"Out! And don't you dare bring food into my library again, Harry James Potter!" She rounded on Draco, fixing him with her steely glare. "As for you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, if I ever - "
Harry grabbed his arm, scooping their books into his picnic basket and tugging him toward the door. Draco followed, not particularly keen to find out what Madam Pince would do to him. It was bound to be most unpleasant.
They fled, laughing, pelting out the door and down the corridor, Madam Pince's indignant shouts growing fainter behind them with every step. The basket was banging uncomfortably against Draco's hip, his elbow was protesting all the strain, and his fingers were going numb in Harry's iron grip, but Draco felt alive in a way he'd not in years. He let out a joyous whoop as they dove through the castle doors, and into the brilliant afternoon sunshine.
Eventually they stopped, out of breath and gasping, in the same spot by the lake they'd used the day before.
"I told you that food wasn't allowed in the library!" Draco gasped out, after a long moment spent catching his breath.
Harry cuffed him none-too-gently on the shoulder and collapsed in an undignified heap on the grass. Draco hesitated for only a moment before joining him in his ungainly sprawl.
"So," Harry said, rolling toward him, hand shielding his eyes from the early-afternoon sun, "care to practice?" Draco hesitated. "Come on," Harry wheedled, "best give Madam Pince time to cool off."
Draco opened his mouth, closed it. "Oh, all right," he finally said. Harry grinned, and his heart skipped a beat.
---
"Oh, good one Potter! I think you might have terrified that leaf. Look, it's shivering, poor thing - oh, wait. No, that's just the breeze."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Prat."
"Git," Draco returned fondly.
"Let's see you try, then," Harry challenged.
Draco focused, waved his wand, and - "Ha! Look at that, Potter!"
"Woo bloody hoo. I'm shaking in my boots."
"You're not wearing boots," Draco pointed out. "Really, I'm not sure what those things you're wearing are, but they're certainly not boots. Whereas these," he gestured to his feet, encased in soft, buttery leather boots, "are the height of wizarding fashion."
Harry sighed. "It's an expression, Malfoy."
Draco sniffed, looking down his aristocratic nose at him. "A muggle expression, no doubt."
"Hmmm."
---
"Potter!" Draco shouted indignantly, "What on earth are you doing?"
Harry straightened, using the pause to wipe his brow. "Dueling?"
"No, you're not," Draco said decisively. "What sort of imbecile taught you proper form?"
Harry gaped at him. "There's proper dueling form?"
Draco smacked his head. "Potter. However did you manage to defeat Voldemort?"
Harry rolled his eyes. He'd been doing that a lot, lately, Draco noticed. "So, I don't know the proper form," he said dismissively, "Big deal."
Draco stared at him. "Potter," he said carefully, trying to keep as much of the disdain he felt as possible out of his tone, "we are doing this as an educational exercise, yes?"
"Yeah?"
"Then we are going to use proper form."
Harry sighed. "I told you, I don't - "
"Well, I'll just have to teach you then. Come here."
"Malfoy..."
"Come. Here."
"Right."
---
"...You're hopeless," Draco declared eventually.
Harry raised his eyebrows. "I could have told you that."
Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, trying to ward off the headache that threatened. "No, no. I can do this. Just - let me think." After a moment he opened his eyes. "Right. Meet me after class tomorrow. No - not here. Just... come to my classroom."
Harry looked dubious. "O-kay," he said. "See you later Malfoy."
He turned, grabbed the discarded picnic basket, and loped off through the trees. Draco sighed, dropping back into his earlier sprawl and throwing his arm over his eyes to block out the sun. He had a lot of work cut out for him.