HP ficlet: Lucky at Last [Draco/Harry, general]
Title: Lucky at Last Author: celandineb Fandom: HP Pairing: Draco/Harry Rating: general Length: 511 words Summary: Draco works up his nerve to ask Harry out. Note: For mordyn4 from alisanne, who suggested Harry/Draco, and gave the prompt "four is his lucky number".
(1)
Potter invariably dashed into the Ministry canteen only minutes before it stopped serving lunch, skidded up to the counter, and took whatever the serving ladies had the most of left. By that time the tables were beginning to empty, and Draco could easily watch Potter unnoticed.
He would have finished with his own meal by then, or nearly so, and allowed himself only five minutes after Potter's arrival before his own departure.
Today Draco broke the pattern of several months. As he took his tray to the hatch he paused by Potter's table.
"Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?"
Potter looked at him and shook his head.
Draco hurried away, his face red. At least Potter hadn't laughed.
(2)
It was just to test the new memo system, Draco told himself. He ignored the eighteen crumpled drafts that now littered the floor by his feet as he carefully copied out the final version onto a clean piece of parchment, blew on the ink, and folded the sheet into the new design as prescribed by Percy Weasley in the Minister's office.
He tapped the parchment bird and watched as it flew out through the doorway. If he'd done this correctly, it was on its way to the Auror department now.
An hour later his reply came.
Thank you, but no. HP
(3)
Some careful maneuvering was necessary to put himself behind Potter in the Floo queue in the evening. Draco lingered by the restored fountain until he caught a glimpse of unruly dark hair, then hurried to make sure no one else would be between them.
"Hello, Potter."
"Hello, Malfoy."
Potter took off his specs and wiped them on the sleeve of his robe. He looked tired; Draco had read in the Prophet that the Aurors were working on a big international case. He supposed Potter must be part of it.
"Can I buy you a drink?" asked Draco. "If you don't have other plans?"
"I…" Potter hesitated. "I appreciate the offer, but really, I just want to go home tonight. Thank you though."
(4)
This would be the last time, Draco told himself. He had his pride. He would think of one more way to ask Potter out, and if Potter said no, he would never try again.
Decision made, he turned back to the pile of parchment on his desk and began to read through the next incident report, making notes in the margins as he went. He had never especially wanted to work for the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee, but from time to time it was interesting.
A memo sailed into his cubicle and hovered above the desk. Absentmindedly he plucked it out of the air and smoothed out the folds. When he finished reading the report, he glanced at the memo. The quill fell from his fingers. He hastily snatched it up and scribbled Yes on the reverse side of the parchment, flicking it into the air to take his reply immediately.