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““Can anyone tell me what the animusfrio curse is?” Professor Moody's gruff voice boomed through the classroom."Animusfrio, the spell of suffering. In ancient practice, it was said to have come from hell itself. It brings pain, deep, unsettling pain to its victim. Essentially trapping them in their mind." Hermione responded immediately.“Correct, Hermione. And I suppose you know how to defend yourself from it too?" Moody prompted."Only protego horribilis or protego diabolica can stop the spell of suffering, Professor." She frowned."Incorrect!" Alastor roared."There is one other way. Witches and Wizards can build up a tolerance to animusfrio via exposure." He growled as if it were some dark secret. He then pointed at Harry."When I try to curse you at you, aim your wand to the sky and yell 'protego horribilis'. You're only young, the spell will just fall around you." The ex aruror barked. Harry was about to stand from his seat. However, Malfoy interrupted."Sir, I doubt he could cast a simple levitating charm. Do you really want to trust him with protecting himself from a torturing curse?" Draco laughed."Would you like a turn, Malfoy?" Professor Moody mocked, and before he could even respond, he hit Draco with animusfrio. Draco didn't even budge."Really, professor? I am the Malfoy heir! My father has been building my tolerance to that spell since I was six." He snickered. The class went silent."What?" Draco asked after a few seconds had passed."You've been hit by animusfrio?! When you were six?!" Hermione gasped."Yeah?" Draco answered."And yet, he couldn't deal with a scratch from Buckbeak?!" Ron whispered to Harry, although Harry wasn't listening. The class had long ended, yet Harry couldn't get it out of his head. Malfoy had been hit with a curse designed to destroy a wizard's mind?! When he was six?! Maybe there was more to the arrogant git than he first realised. Anyone who had been tortured at the age of six had to have some deeper personality than "I'm rich and a prick". And Harry was determined to find out this supposedly deeper level of Draco Malfoy."Malfoy!" He grinned at Draco, catching up with the blonde."Potter?" The said blonde seemed to be taken off guard by Harry's friendly greeting. Although, his tone was still cold and uninviting."Do you want to have a seekers game? After lunch?" Harry invited, smiling widely. An unknown emotion flickered in Draco's eyes for a few seconds before his lips turned to a snarl."No."Harry, determined as ever, tried again. This time he used their rivalry to his advantage. It was a Slytherin tactic, sure, but it worked none the less."Oh? Scared, Malfoy?" He teased, shoving himself into the other's personal space. Malfoy replied too quickly."Fine. You're on. Get ready to be beaten." And with that, Draco turned around and fled. Alas, Harry didn't see the smile he hid as he left."You're in a good mood, Harry," Hermione commented."Gotta seekers game, af'er lunch." Harry grinned, mouth full of mashed potato."A seekers game? With who?" Ron barged into the conversation."Uh... Malfoy." Harry blushed, after swallowing his food."Malfoy?! What? Did'ja lose a bet or somethin'?" Ron snorted."N-No... I asked him." Harry muttered, ears turning pink."Why?" Ron pushed."Shut up Ron! Harry has finally asked him out! Leave him be!" Hermione scolded."ASKED HIM OUT?!" Harry and Ron yelled in unison."You've been crushing on him for ages, it's fine. WE accept it." Hermione smiled, sending a warning glance at Ron."First, you put your name in the bloody goblet of fire?! And now this?!" Ron groaned putting his head in his hands."I didn't ask him out! I don't have a crush on him! Stop contorting the situation!" Harry whisper yelled at them.“Sure, Harry. You’re just obsessed with him in a strictly platonic, enemy kind of way. You’re eyes follow him because of the hatred in your heart. You flush with anger around him. You’re totally not in love with him.” Hermione spoke, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.“Yeah!” Harry agreed, oblivious as ever.“Wait…” He then realised the intention behind her statement. Hermione giggled at his idiocy.“Sod off!” He growled, shoving her away.Lunch ended far too quickly and slowly all at once. Harry could hear his heart in his ears by the time he reached the quidditch pitch. Draco was wearing a pastel blue sweater with black jeans and a cream scarf. It looked good. Suddenly, Harry felt underdressed in his bright red Gryffindor shirt and black cargo shorts.“Hey.” Malfoy’s voice cut through his internal panic. Why was Harry panicking? He did not know.“Hey Malfoy.” Harry grinned, it was a grin that showed way too many teeth to be natural.“Stop that…” Draco whined.“Stop what?” Harry asked, moving to where Draco stood.“The whole… being nice… thing… Stop looking at me like that!” Draco almost sounded like a pouting child. Harry just laughed.“Scared, Malfoy?” He smiled.“Terrified.” Draco returned sarcastically.The game was fun. Harry and Malfoy were evenly matched for the most part. It was nice for them. It was an escape from the world, from death eaters, and triwizard tournaments, and all the weight society had forced upon them. It was like they were just kids. Regular old children. They laughed and joked, teased and played. This is what their lives should of been like. Harry thought it was great to be around someone who didn’t bend to his every wish and command, someone who he could argue with and banter with. Draco liked that he had someone willing to put his heritage behind him, who could look past his actions and see a good person… Somehow. They were happy, which is more then they had been for a while. It was bliss.“Good game.” Harry held his hand out, mirth in his voice.“You too, Potter.” Draco took it, giving a shy smile, his head low.“Harry.”“Excuse me?”“My name.”“Yes I know it is your name.”“No. Call me Harry.” Harry laughed.“Oh. Uh… You too, Harry.” Draco looked up from their still interlaced hands. Harry grinned wider and slowly released his grip.“And uh… Thank you.” Draco huffed affectionately.“For what?”“Giving me a chance.”“Ooh! The love bird is back from his date!” Dean yelled into the dorm. A series of catcalls and inappropriate comments flew through the room.“It was not a date!” Harry huffed.“Sure.” Ron mocked.“Oh, So Hermione has talked you into it too.” Harry growled, moving to his bed. Laughter filled the room as Ron muttered something under his breath.“Okay, so it wasn’t a date. Then what was it?” Thomas asked, staring at Harry intently.“It was just a quidditch match. A seekers match, actually.” Harry answered, lying in his bed.“Hmm? And what happened?” Dean prodded.“Well, I scored the first point. Which Malfoy said was just luck. Then he scored the second and third point just to prove it. Then I scored the next point. Malfoy the next. Then we argued a bit about who’s better at flying… But… Like… It wasn’t a hostile argument… It was more… Banter… You know? Then he commented on my horrible fashion… Which I said was understandable, considering how he always has his outfits planned three nights before. To which he said ‘I didn’t spend all that time in the closet for nothing’. We both laughed at that. Then we continued our match for a bit but it just slowly turned into wrestling… But we weren’t trying to injure each other. It was playful. Then he said he had to go. We said goodbye and I told him to call me Harry, not Potter.” Harry explained.“You just completely forgot your rivalry?” Neville asked.“Yeah. It was nice.” Harry answered.“He even smiled at me.” He added as an afterthought.The boys had many more meetings and seekers matches after that. Their hostility started melting away, bit by bit. At this point they were good friends. Harry had even asked him to go to the Yule Ball. As a friend of course… But this all lead to his revelation.“Hermione! I’m in love with Draco!”“Congratulations, Harry! You’re literally the last person on earth to know.”“What?”“You asked him to be your date to the Yule Ball!”“As a friend!” “You’re constantly with him.”“Because we’re friends.”“You smile at him in potions. Potions Harry! The last time I saw you smile in potions was when Snape tripped and broke his nose!”Harry was silent.“So, yes. You are the last to know.”The Yule Ball was soon approaching, Harry was freaking out.“Hermione! Should I tell him? Would it be weird if I told him?”He was even worried about his fashion choice!“Should I wear the green tie or the black one? Hermione! Help!”He was almost dreading the Yule Ball.“Would we have to dance?! I can’t dance! HERMIONE!”The dance arrived all too quickly for Harry’s liking.“Don’t you look lovely, my date.” Harry held out his arm to Draco, using his fakest posh voice.“My dear, you too look rather ravishing.” Draco took his arm and matched his cheesiness. They looked at each other, trying not to laugh.“Daisy, my sweet-” Harry was cut off by his own laughter, Draco soon joined in.“Let’s enter.” Draco smiled, after they had both regained their composure. The hall was decorated beautifully and the school choir was singing.The boys gasped at the large chandelier hanging above them.“Triwizard Champions, out the front.” Mcgonagall called, pushing Harry and Draco to line up with the others.“Draco, I can’t dance.” Harry whispered.“If you dare step on my toes...” Draco replied warningly. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Harry grimaced. “Boys. Will you please stop muttering and actually get on the dance floor.” Mcgonagall stared disapprovingly at them.“Yes, Professor.” Harry mumbled, dragging Draco into the public eye. The dance wasn’t that bad. Draco lead and Harry didn’t step on his toes once! It might of been because Harry didn’t have the mental capacity to do anything than blindly follow Draco, mostly because he was focused on how close Draco was.“I really like you.” Harry blurted out.“Yeah, that’s why we’re friends.” Draco reasoned.“No. I really, really like you. I might be in love with you, but I don't know.” Harry rambled.“You think?” Draco asked, looking him up and down.“I do.” Harry nodded. Draco smirked and pulled Harry into a dip.“Draco, Wha-mhmph!” Harry was silenced with Draco’s lips. The kiss was a little clumsy but they sorted it out as Draco pulled Harry up from the dip. There were cheers all around the hall as money was exchanged through students… And that’s how dada Draco and papa Harry got together.” Pansy told the five year old in her lap.“Again! Again!” She yelled.“That’s enough for now. It’s bedtime. Dada Draco told me to put you to bed at seven.” Pansy smiled, carrying the child to her room.“I love my dada and my papa! And they love each other!” She grinned.“That they do… But they also love you too.”
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I am writing a formal apology for that abominable creation.