"You could have anyone you want." Draco shoots Harry a firm look. She hands her a bowl of ice cream —Blue Moon, Draco thinks it's disgusting, but Harry loves that shit. Which is apparent from the way her tongue always quickly becomes blue. Draco sits down next to her on their abhorrent bubblegum pink couch.

"Well. Judging by this experience, that's not actually true, eh Malfoy?" Harry shoots Draco a look, as if daring her to contradict herself. She looks ridiculous with a big spoon full of chemical blue ice cream in her hand and her green eyes shining with sadness and a sparkle of daring. Her short hair looks messier than ever, as if she's been running her hands through it continuously. She has.

Draco had seen her do it from the moment she kicked open the door and stomped directly to their couch, plopping into it defeatedly.

There's a stain of blue to her pink lips and God, Draco wants to kiss her.

"I mean. I actually thought this fucking girl was into me. Well, I guess the fuck not. She's fucking straight, however could I have thought that she was into me?'' Her tone takes on a mocking quality. "It was only the gratuitous kissing my cheek, holding my hand and staring at my lips that did it. So crazy, right." Her eyes are bright and furious, her bushy brows tightly knit together. Draco is so fucking in love with this girl.

"Straight girls are the worst." Draco agrees. She picks at some nonexistent lint on her cashmere sweater. "Also, you know you shouldn't put your bowl on the fucking couch and I am not gonna do it for you again."

Harry rolls her eyes and ignores Draco. "So," she starts warily. "You said that I 'could have anyone'. What.. what makes you so sure of that?"

"You are the Girl Who Lived. Savior of the Wizarding World and all that." Harry huffs at that and Draco smirks. Getting a rise out of Potter had always been a thing of beauty.

When she looks up at Harry, however, she sees frustration and insecurity in those stormy eyes. Draco sighs. Since she and Harry started rooming together at Muggle University and they were forced to be civil, Draco hasn't found joy in making Potter sad like she did before. Quite the contrary. She would probably do anything for Potter, even though she'd deny that forcefully. So she inhales sharply, let's the breath float out of her slowly and starts. "Ugh. You're really making me do this."

Harry merely quirks an eyebrow. Draco flips her the bird and moves on.

"I hate you. Right. You're just so full of light and —goodness. Even when you're mad, or especially when you're mad, there's this energy around you. You're magnetic." Draco can feel her traitorous cheeks start to heat up. God damn it. She doesn't know what to do with her hands, doesn't know how to stop talking, wishes that she was the one holding the bowl of ice cream. That would give her something to do, would stop her from blabbering endlessly on and on about how fucking magnetic Harry Potter is.

This might be the first and last instance where Draco has desperately wanted a taste of that horrid blue ice cream.

Harry isn't unaffected by this praise. Little dots of pink are starting to form on her darker complexion.

"And. Well." Draco powers through, suddenly feels Gryffindorishly, stupidly brave. "If it isn't your goodness, it's your passion or your fury or the fact that you're fucking beautiful." She breathes in deeply and looks up at Harry, right into her eyes. She wants to look away, wants to hide herself away after revealing such a personal truth about herself, but she can't.

"Draco," Harry says, and her voice wobbles a bit. "Does this mean I could have you?"

"Yes," Draco breathes. "Of course you could fucking have me, Potter. You can have everything." Harry's breath hitches in her throat and then she leans in, softly puts her hand on Draco's jaw and kisses Draco. She tastes like milky blue chemicals, and it doesn't even taste that bad. Normally that chemical tang would have made her retch, but combined with the pang in her chest it was bearable - nice, even. Draco feels the feeling in her chest spread to the pit of her stomach and the tips of her toes when Harry climbs on top of her, abruptly knocking the bowl of ice cream into the couch. Draco pulls away and rolls her eyes at Harry. "Told you so," she says. It sounds fonder than she anticipated and she cringes.

Harry grins, pecks Draco on the lips and says: "Well. It matches my tongue."

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