oachful.

“You don’t like going to events like that,” Draco pointed out.

“Yeah…but still…”

Draco contemplated his options, finally deciding that honesty was probably his best shot. “Okay, look, the thing is…I invited you to that gala to raise more money. I knew if people saw you wereing—”

“So you basically used me,” Potter interrupted him. “To…help children.” Potter pressed his lips together, but, Draco realised, it wasn’t in irritation; it was to keep himself from laughing. “And, err, that’s the only reason you invited me?”

Draco almost tripped over his own feet. “What—What else would there be?”

“Draco,” Potter sighed. “Why can’t you just admit you like me?” Draco froze, his mind goingpletely blank. Potter seemed to be in a similar state, looking like he was berating himself for what he’d just said. “Um, you know…as a person,” he added quickly.

Draco willed his muscles to relax, forcing his lips into a smirk. “You’re…not horrible.”

“I’ll take it,” Potter said with a grin. “Although…” His grin widened. “You seem to like me enough to tell the kids stories about me.”

Oh no, here we go.

“I tell them stories about me. You just happen to be…a part of that.”

“A big part?”

Oh, that cocky bastard.

“You just have to take the lead in everything, don’t you?”

“That’s not a no,” Potter said, looking smug.

Draco’s mouth twitched, in spite of himself. Damn it! Why was Potter’s smile so infectious?

“I’m glad I came today,” Potter said.

Me too, Draco thought, exchanging a long and meaningful glance with him. There was no point in saying it out loud. He had a feeling Potter already knew.

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