“My magic has been a bit off since I’ve caught this stupid cold,” Draco muttered. Before Potter approached him, he flicked his wand wordlessly. Mere seconds later, Draco felt like he was sitting in the afternoon sun, warm and cosy. He eyed the other man’s hand sceptically when Potter held out the Pepperup Potion to him.
“What do you want in return?” he asked.
Potter smiled at him, deviously. “What makes you think I want something in return?”
Draco gave him a look that said far more than words. Potter sniggered, dropped the potion in Draco’s lap, and plopped down on the sofa opposite of him.
“I was going to ask if you want to come over for dinner,” he said, nonchalant.
“Dinner,” Draco echoed. “You want me to come over for dinner.”
Potter simply nodded and crossed his legs, stretching his arms out on the backrest. He looked far more comfortable than he should have, Draco decided.
“Come on, take the potion so we can go over to mine.” Potter almost sounded impatient. The urge to ask him why he was so keen on spending so much time with Draco was getting stronger. Honestly, he didn’t understand it at all, but he felt drained already. Maybe it was best to leave that particular can of worms unopened for now.
Tipping his head back, Draco downed the potion, welcoming the burning sensation in his sore throat. The effect was instantaneous.
“Better?” Potter asked.
“Better,” Draco replied, shrugging off the blanket.
“Great, let’s go, then.”
“Let me get changed, first,” Draco said, rising from the armchair.
“Why? What you’re wearing is fine.”
“I’m not dressed for dinner,” Draco insisted.
“You look great, now come on.”
Draco bit back his retort, Potter’s rushed compliment shooting through him like an arrow. He knew Potter had just said that to shut him up, but his stomach seemed to think it was appropriate to unleash a massive swarm of butterflies, which started fluttering around inside him happily.
“You coming?” Potter said when Draco didn’t move. He furrowed his brows in silent puzzlement and when Draco still didn’t move, he reached for his hand. If only he hadn’t. When Draco’s skin made contact with Potter’s, it was as if sparks were flying between them. Only…there were actual sparks.
“What—”
Potter jumped when the fireplace behind him suddenly roared and his jumper nearly caught on fire. He whirled around, shocked.
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