Ten Reasons Not to Date Draco Malfoy   von Rabenfeder
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             Kapitel 1: Chapter 1: He is anything but approachable
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Chapter 1: He is anything but approachable

Harry took another sip of his ice-cold coffee and blankly stared in front of
him. He had already been sitting in the small coffee shop for at least an hour.
While the people around him were either engaged in conversations or just simply
playing with their phones, he just sat there quietly and stared at the table on
the other side of the tiny terrace.

It had been exactly 17 days since the news of his and Ginny's break up went
public. 17 days of him being hunted by reporters, stalked by hundreds of owls
and not being able to set one foot out of his home without having to answer the
same questions over and over again.

Why did you split up?

Weren't you supposed to get married this year?

Is it true she left you for another man?

How do you deal with the heartbreak?

He had asked himself those questions constantly after they had actually broken
up three months ago. It was Ginny's idea to keep it a secret until Ball season
would start again. She told him like this the press would have other stories to
cover and therefore less capacity to focus on him. She was right about that.
After one week, his face disappeared from the covers, after two weeks, the
double features became rare and today was the first day he hadn't spotted his
own face on any newspaper except the Witch Weekly feature of him being the most
wanted bachelor of the Wizarding World.

Ginny somehow always knew how to handle publicity. She was so much better at it
than him. She knew when to appear at an event, what to say, when to pose, touch,
kiss, leave. It was her who carefully managed the bits and pieces of information
they gave to the press. She announced them dating so it was her duty to inform
the press about their break up.

She had always been the voice of the relationship. Because she understood how to
handle situations. How to handle Harry. She just knew him better than he did
himself. Maybe that was the reason she knew just when to end things with him.

Don't get me wrong. During their time together Harry never felt unhappy. Being
with Ginny was easy. Spending time with her, kissing her, exploring their bodies
together. It just felt logical. Reasonable.

He never felt uncomfortable with her. But he also never felt uncomfortable
without her. When she was gone, he sure was wondering what she was up to but it
was never her he missed, it was solemnly the company.

He had always felt like a member of the Weasley family. This was where he
belonged and therefore dating Ginny was - well it was the obvious thing to do.
And it seemed to work out pretty well until one day Ron made this terrible joke
about Harry dating even him if there had been no female Weasley he could court.

Harry still remembered the second the realization hit Ginny. He was dating her
because she had always been the most reasonable choice. Later that night when
they were alone in bed together, she would ask him whether he loved her. He told
her, that he loved her from the bottom of her heart. And it was the truth. She
still started crying.

The next morning she broke up with him, just before breakfast. It was as simple
as starting their relationship. She talked, he listened. Her reasons were
logical. It was too easy. They never argued. They just were together and it was
alright. But she did not feel desired.

He had that thought in the back of his mind for quite long. Sure, Ginny was
beautiful and when they had sex, he enjoyed it. But he never craved it. He
always thought of himself of not being the sensual type. They stopped having sex
three years into their partnership. He scarcely missed being intimate with her.

"I really wish you will someday find someone you really can desire. Someone
whose touch makes your knees weak. Someone you want to be with every second."

When she told him that, he could hardly imagine ever feeling that way for
anyone. There had never been a girl he looked at in that way. Sure, he could
enjoy a woman's beauty but that was about it. What she told him next was what
really shook him to the ground.

"Maybe it is not a woman you are looking for..."

And that was is. As simple as that. At the age of 25 Harry Potter was left by
his fiancée and girlfriend of seven years because she thought he was gay.
Shocking isn't it? How would the press have reacted to this part of the story,
he often wondered. And more so, what would the Weekly Witch write about him
knowing that not for one second he tried to argue with Ginny. Actually, he
wasn't sure if she was wrong at all.

This brings us back to the day 17 days after the breakup. Harry was still
sitting in said coffee shop, staring at the back of a well-known, blond haired
man and wondering if he was actually checking out the other man.

But this story would not go anywhere if it only was about Harry staring at
someone's back, lost in his own thoughts. The blond man turned his head for the
approximately fifth time this day to notice him still staring. Dark eyebrows
twitched and a smug smile conquered his lips. With what could only be described
as pure elegance the other wizard got up from his chair and made his way towards
Harry.

"Well Potter," he said while nonchalantly pulling out the chair opposite of
Harry, "I know it has been quite some time since you last had the chance to lust
after me across the tables but what special occasion did I miss today that
forces you back into old habits?" While still talking he let himself glide into
the chair, not breaking eye contact with the former Gryffindor for just a split
second.

Harry Potter is brilliant at a lot of things. The most important examples for
that would be defeating evil Dark Lords and constantly getting into a lot of
trouble. Lesser known talents include cooking, being lazy on Sundays and having
the ability to instantly charm any toddler. Small talk is not mentioned on this
list for a good reason.

"Malfoy, am I gay?"

Staring at him blankly without blinking even once, Draco Malfoy, the undeniable
eloquent aristocrat who never seems to be short of a sharp but thrillingly
entertaining response, finally looked shaken. He seemed very unsure as what to
make out of this question, but honestly, who wouldn't?

~

Harry was well aware that this might had come out of nowhere. However, this had
been the chance he so desperately had been looking for since the breakup. He
didn't know many openly gay people - actually only Charlie Weasley and he was
obliviously not a suitable choice to discuss such a delicate matter. Not after
the breakup. The Weasleys were his family but still...as long as he was not sure
whether Ginny's suspicion contained the smallest notch of truth, he didn't want
them to know.

Not Charlie, not Molly, not even Ron or Hermione. He was too scared of them
asking uncomfortable questions, forcing him to explore his - maybe - true
sexuality.

Three months and 17 days and still Draco Malfoy out of all people seemed to be
his only chance. Not only because Harry could be absolutely sure, the blonde
aristocrat would never address the matter in a conversation with the Weasley
family (as if Malfoy would even talk to them!) but also because he never made a
deal out of his sexual preferences.

Charlie was out to his family and friends but not publicly. It felt more like a
not so secret secret shared by a larger number of people. He had never been seen
dating a bloke nor had he brought someone home yet. If he had a partner, nobody
in the family knew. Malfoy had approached the matter differently. Harry
estimated that the number of people knowing about Charlie being gay must equal
the amount of witches and wizards not being aware that the sole heir to the
Malfoy family was riding his broom the other way around.

When Draco Malfoy came out he did it with style. Of course, a simple
announcement or an interview would not do. He instead reacted to the various
rumours in a way only he could. It was a feast for the media.

First of all, posters started to appear. They featured a variety of phrases such
as: "Draco Malfoy plays for the other team." "The Slytherin prince fancies
snakes and not princesses." "Draco Malfoy: from prince to queen." "Instead of
skirts Draco Malfoy lifts shirts." Having initially been seen as an attack on
the former Death Eater the campaign had not been taken seriously. Then the day
came Pansy Parkinson wore the button.

It was plain black with green writing on it. The enchanting made sure whomever
glimpsed at it was able to read the message: "I was Draco's fake girlfriend
while he was kissing boys!" This coming from the one girl always being
supportive of Malfoy made people realise that after all the posters might not
have been wrong. Why else should Parkinson make sure, her best friend since
Hogwarts was outed? Also, denouncing herself as fake girlfriend was nothing, she
could probably be proud of.

The final stage of the plan was of course Malfoy's big entry. Dressed in a form
fitting three-piece suit he attended his family's traditional Beltane
celebrations not only by himself but also making a point nobody could overlook.
It was a number of rather subtle changes that left a deep impression.

His hair was still combed back and as longish as it had been for the past
months, however, now it was held back by a very elegant ribbon instead of a more
masculine piece of jewellery. His pants fit just this tiny bit too well around
his buttocks to make absolutely sure everyone could get a perfect glimpse at his
behind. His gestures lacked the forced edge, he moved more like a Veela than
ever before. All in all he seemed more comfortable in his own skin than ever
without having given up his masculinity at all but still more emphasising his
delicate feature.

Oh and did I already mention he announced himself as "Draco Malfoy, last of his
name, not willing to pretend he was ever going to date a witch, well-educated
wizards of old families with the financial means to fulfil his every wishes as
well as stunning looks welcome owl him"?

~

Since his coming out, the world did not change for Draco Malfoy. He was still
the same, dressed the same, had the same job and friends. He just simply dated
man. And that was exactly what Harry wanted for himself. Enough things had
chance in his young life. He had lost what he would call a family not only once.
He had been special long enough. If Ginny was in fact right and he was gay, he
didn't want it to be special. He wanted to be normal. And as strange as this
might sound, Draco Malfoy managed to stay normal.

“Well Potter, I do tend to cause this reaction in men. Look at me, who would
not want to share their bed with me. So, is this your reason to ask me such a
question?”, the blond man responded with a witty tone in his voice. It had
taken Malfoy quite a while to regain his cool and laid-back mannerisms. Now he
was leaning back in his chair, casually stretching his long legs a bit and
looking at poor Harry with one eyebrow slightly raised, twitching in amusement
while a smug half smile was playing around his lips.

All of the former courage had left the Gryffindor and he could barely stand to
even look into Malfoys direction anymore. Instead he focused on his neglected
coffee mug and desperately wished he had never asked this stupid question. Not
Malfoy. Not after the blond git had already let shine through, he was very well
aware of the constant starring. How stupid could one single person be, Harry
wondered. There was absolutely no reason for Malfoy to not simply get up and
straight forward tell the press about this weird conversation. Harry could
already read the new headlines: “Malfoy heir molested by the Chosen One”
“The third wheel in the Potter relationship was in fact a man – Harry’s
man!” 

After what felt like ages in which he mentally kicked himself for being so
insanely stupid, the other man finally reacted once again. Dragging his chair
closer to the table and sitting upright Malfoy changed his posture from
arrogance into what seemed to be real interest.

“Potter, this isn’t a joke to you, is it?”, he carefully asked. His voice
was much quieter than before as if he wanted to make sure this conversation
stayed between the two of them. The smirk around his face was gone. It had been
replaced by a faint frown. When Harry finally found the courage to look up again
his gaze was met by very earnest looking grey eyes. The atmosphere of this
conversation had changed completely.

This was his chance to get out of this unbelievable stupid idea! Harry just had
to tell Malfoy that of course this was a joke and he just tried to insult the
git. Call him a faggot. A Sissi and this was it. But somehow, he did not want to
do that either. Under the expectant gaze of the blond man he managed to very
slowly nod once and after that quickly shut his eyes.

Again, the man sitting opposite of him changed his position, now leaning on the
table with both his elbows. The frown on his forehead had increased and now he
definitely seemed to be rather confused than amused or in the mood to make some
jokes. This could be the first glimpse Harry could ever have at the Draco Malfoy
that stood in for something. The young wizard who refused to be treated
differently because of his sexuality. The man who stood up and fought for
something. Someone from whom Harry maybe could learn something.

“Well Potter,” he slowly and very quietly said, “if you really want to
talk about this subject, we should meet at a less public place.” Out of the
inner pocket of his jacket he pulled a business card and a pen that could only
be described as decadent. Dark mahogany wood together with what looked like
actual marble held a thin fountain-pen nib made out of platinum. The ink of
course had a deep green colour. He took his very time to note down an address.
Harry immediately noticed that the capital letters were written obnoxiously
large and contained more than one unnecessary extra swirl.

While sliding over the business card which now contained an address, Malfoy got
up from his seat and attempted to leave Harry alone. Our favourite Gryffindor
was almost tempted to think of this meeting as surprisingly pleasant had the
blond man not turned around at the last moment to loudly and announced: “Oh,
and you pay! However, you shall not confuse this meeting with a date or any
similar activity of such kind! What would the people think of my loss of taste!
See you, Scarhead!”

With a theatrical bow and a – Harry had to admit that – rather charming half
smile on his lips he eventually exited the little coffee shop. And left back a
rather confused young man who blankly starred on the card in front of him,
wondering if he had made one of the biggest mistakes of his life. Was asking
Draco Malfoy for advice really a good idea? The definition of aristocratic git?
But something at the back of Harry’s head told him that even though his former
school rival made a scene out of his departure, the moment the blond man noticed
the seriousness of this matter, his behaviour had indeed changed from playful
nagging to something one might even consider as understanding for the other guys
situation.

~

Two days later, this voice had become very silent and had been replaced by a
rather hysteric train of thought that constantly told Harry to leave as soon as
possible before Malfoy arrived and had the chance to embarrass the Golden Boy by
unleashing the press onto him like a pack of wild bloodhounds. The blond git
would definitely try to humiliate him. He would stage this meeting as some sort
of date where he could act as the suffering victim who had been stalked by the
mad Potter, a lovesick maniac. Maybe Malfoy would not even show up. Maybe he
would just send a callboy. A stripper. Someone who would make Harry feel utterly
ashamed while the former Slytherin Prince could get a fair share of laughs from
his Potter-stinks-fan-club.

Nervously turning the small business card over and over again, Harry had of
course arrived at the address way to early. Instead of 5 p.m. he had been
sitting there since four, eagerly waiting for whatever evil surprise Malfoy had
planned for him. If he was going to be fast enough to notice the malevolent
plan, maybe he could still escape the worst.

Still he was wondering why Malfoy had suggested to meet at a Muggle bar, quite
outside of any magical district of London. A rather cosy place, however rather
fancy than old-school. The tables were made out of blank wood pieces same as the
chairs and the menus which included only fancy sounding drinks or organic gluten
free vegan homemade smoothies. Harry, always favouring a good old pint over
anything else, had simply gone with a still water (which had already been harder
to order than he would have ever imagined. As if he cared where the spring was
located, which special kinds of stones had filtered the water or what kind of
packaging had been used to preserve the natural quality of the drink!)

On the one side of the card, Malfoy had carefully written down the address of
the pub, including a date and time, the other side contained his business
information.

Draco L. Malfoy
	Freelancing consultant for Dark Curses
	Including the handling of Dark Artefacts
	And poisoning through Ancient Receipts
	Contact: Owling Station 314 b, London

Interestingly enough, Malfoy had very well established himself as one of the
most demanded and successful consultants the Ministry of Magic worked with.
Furthermore, he had explicitly refused to directly work for them, stating that
he wanted to remain his own boss with nobody to push him around. It had been
quite a surprise after the war that he did not try to leave all of his past
behind and simply pretend to have moved on. Nor did he strictly follow every old
tradition. He decided to go his very own way, as he explained himself to the
press, by serving the Ministry as freelancing consultant in an area where they
had been lacking expertise for ages as no other wizard actually connected to the
Dark Arts would have ever considered working for the government. Sometimes Harry
wondered if such a job decision would also be an option for him. It was not that
he was unhappy at his office and having someone else to decide for you when you
had to work, what times you had to take off and what jobs you should take surely
had its upsides…

When he looked up from the small card in his hands, he noticed that Malfoy had
entered the pub, starring at him from a distance as if he had been waiting for
Harry to notice him first before getting any closer. He was wearing a mixture of
black robes and a suit, emphasizing his slender frame and very fashionable this
season. The long hair was held back by the elegant and simply hairband. The
actual robes part of his outfit was carefully draped over his left arm. The grey
vest nicely contrasted with the darker trousers and the black shirt. He looked
flawless as always. The tiny half smile returned to the blond man’s face when
he finally caught Harry’s eyes. Slowly he came closer to the table, his own
drink already in one hand, and sat down.

“So, Potter, why me?”, he just asked instead of greeting the other man
first. It was a very simply and logical question to ask concerning the
situation. Still, Harry was not sure how to answer, how to start. Deep down
inside of him the one voice kept screaming that Malfoy only wanted to make fun
of him, embarrass him, use his weaknesses against him.

After waiting for what felt like ages, but really might have been 90 seconds
Malfoy started talking again.

“You know that it is impossible to have a conversation with me if you refuse
to even talk to me!”

Biting his lower lip Harry once again looked down at the table, uncapable of
reacting to the other man. A theatrical moan came from the blond man. Harry
noticed the sound of parchment taken out of a bag. Pale hands with carefully
manicured fingernails put something in front of him which looked a lot like a
formal agreement he knew from work.

“Well Potter, as I can clearly not simply trust you with information on such a
private matter and neither should you, the best solution will be a
confidentiality pact ensuring none of us can share any details about our
meetings.”

Did Harry just imagine it or had Malfoy referred to meetings in plural as if
this would not be a one-time thing? With a seemingly confused frown he skimmed
through the parchment in front of him. It mainly contained the basic paragraphs
ensuring both parties that the other one would be bound by magic to not let any
piece of information spoken, written or even drawn in their meetings be known to
a third party. It also had a section about expanding this disclosure to any kind
of owling or texting. And a paragraph about not revealing spells such as
Glamours. Interesting, he thought to himself. It was a well-known fact in the
wizarding community that Harry from time to time used a Glamour to go out in
public without being recognized but normally his disclosures did not mention
such a thing. 

After reading through the short text two more times, checking every word
carefully for a second, secret meaning he signed the parchment. If he had looked
up during his studies, he would have noticed Malfoy who could not hold back an
amused grin when he noticed Harry’s mistrust.

Stowing the signed document back into his pockets, the blond man once again
looked at Harry and started another attempt for a conversation.

“Am I right to believe Potter that I am the only gay person you know?”

Harry was shaking his head quietly but did not answer which led to Malfoy
reformulating his question.

“Am I the only gay bloke you could think of who is not related or somehow
close to your former fiancée?” 

This time Harry nodded and managed to almost look the other man straight into
the eyes. Actually, it was more staring at a point between Malfoy’s ears and
eyes instead of his actual eyes. He can feel himself blushing, asking himself
once again when exactly this had sounded like a good idea and why?   

With what can only be described as a very theatrical sob, Malfoy took a sip from
his drink. It smelled like herbs and citrus, something Harry would not have
expected the other man to drink. Staring blankly at the glass in the other
man’s hand, our beloved Gryffindor decided it was time to make his former
house pride and finally find the courage to talk.

“You are the only gay wizard I know who is like really out.”

His weary eyes search for the other man’s gaze and when they lock for a
second, Harry wonders if Malfoy had always had grey eyes. There was not a hint
of blue in them. Just plain grey with a few darker spots. Currently, those eyes
were dominated by the dark brows above them, curved in a mixture of confusion
and amusement. 

“So, you thought that the old queen Draco had nothing else to do than teach
you how to be a proper poof?”, he asked, the familiar snarl in his voice. But
it was accompanied by something else. If you listened carefully, you could
notice a soft undertone in the voice, something playful and almost caring. Harry
however had never been quite sensitive to undertones and this is why no one at
this point should be surprised by him not getting the hint that Malfoy was
indeed just joking. 

“No, no! I am sorry. I don’t think you are a poof! I did not mean to offend
you! I was just…well it seemed logical…ugh…I…see I am sorry!”

The blond man sitting opposite of him burst out in laughter. He put down his
drink to instead touch his forehead with three fingers while placing his elbow
on the table. Eyes closed he could do nothing else than to keep on laughing. A
tiny dimple appeared on his left cheek. It stayed there even after the laughter
had settled for a deep smile whose mischievous aftermath even reached the storm
grey eyes which starred at Harry from between his fingers.
 
“Potter, I was joking! There is nothing wrong with being a poof. I am one
myself and I am proud of that!”, he explained with a very light hearted voice.
The elbow remained on the table; the hand however was being moved away from the
face and instead placed on the table between them. He even moved closer towards
our Golden Boy and leaned towards him, lowering his voice as if they were
sharing a secret between friend or planning on playing tricks on their
teachers.

“And maybe you are playing for the same team as me.”

And then Draco Malfoy did something that shook the Saviour of the Wizarding
World to the very grounds. He winked. At Harry. Playfully. A one-sided smile was
still playing around his lips when he looked at Harry. Like they were on the
same side and he was trying to assure his former enemy everything was going to
be just fine. Just to make this clear: everyone one else in the whole world, be
it magical or not would clearly have considered this behaviour flirting.
Everyone but Harry who still was so not used to anyone making a move at him that
he was just simply confused.

Leaning back a bit, Malfoy obviously tried to give our dear black-haired wonder
boy some time to calm down once again. Taking in a deep breath Harry tried to
relax a bit. There was absolutely no reason to be so warry. Malfoy was behaving
way better than he had even dared to dream of. Nothing to be scared of, he told
himself, we are not the ignorant children we used to be anymore.

“How did you know you were gay, Malfoy?”, he finally managed to ask the man
sitting at the other hand of the table. Proudly he noticed that his voice was
not shaking anymore. He even managed to look the other man straight into his
eyes where his gaze was once again met with something best to be described as
playful mischief.

“Well, having another man’s dick in your mouth or up your ass clearly is a
good indicator,” Malfoy replied very calmly as this was the most normal thing
to say. His face stayed still, only one eyebrow twitching ever so slightly.
Again, the heat rose into Harry’s cheeks and he had to look away. How could he
say that and keep a straight face as if it was the most common thing to talk
about with your former enemy.

“Was you shagging another guy the reason you and the Weaslette broke up?”,
Malfoy curiously asked, forcing all the colour to drop from Harry’s face at
once. He eagerly shook his head, maybe a bit to forceful and returned to staring
at the table in front of him. Noticing the shift in the atmosphere between them,
Malfoy leaned in once again and lowered his voice quite a bit.

“Have you ever shagged another bloke?”

Another shake of his head was the only answer Harry was able to produce.

“Kissed?”

Again, shaking head.

“Fancied?”

Still, Harry was signalizing he had never, however, he was not so sure about the
last question if he was being honest. In fourth grade he had been obsessed with
Cedric Diggory and thinking about it now he wasn’t quite sure anymore if a
part of him did not somehow consider the Hufflepuff quite attractive. Also, when
Harry thought back to early Quidditch practice, the first thing that came to his
mind was indeed Oliver Woods naked back in the showers. He slowed the head
shaking down and managed to look at Malfoy once again, expecting the blond git
to make fun of him. But he did not, instead he made himself comfortable, took
another sip from his drink and leaned back.

“Well, I first suggested I was different than the other boys when I was 13. I
remember every bloke in the second-year dorms was fancying Astoria Greengrass at
that time when all I could think of was how cute Blaise Zabini looked in his
pyjamas…”

What followed after this was a rather cute story of Malfoy trying to kiss Pansy
Parkinson and really, really hating it. After that he managed to
‘accidentally’ hold hands with Blaise who after a long winter of sending
longing glances across the common room decided it was time to kiss his friend.
This time Draco liked it far more. So, they kept kissing until about March when
the poor blonde boy caught Zabini holding hands with another girl.

The former Slytherin was just about to start telling the as he called it
‘dramatic story of how Blaise Zabini conquered and broke my tiny precious
heart for the first time’ when a glimpse at the clock behind him made him stop
talking and frowning for a moment.

“Shit, I got to go, I almost lost track of time. Look, Potter, I am not sure
if that was helpful at all…,” he started while asking the waiter for the
cheque and without even thinking about it twice paying for both their drinks.
Already getting up from the chair, he once again looked at Harry. Who of course
was not sure how to react once again? To be fair, he had quite enjoyed the
former Slytherin talking about first crushes. Harry had to admit that Malfoy was
rather entertaining.

“I think it helped a bit.”

With a sort of bow, waving his hand as if he were an artist waiting for
applause, the blond man fully got up and looked Harry death in the eyes.

“So, should we just meet up again here in let’s say a week or so? I mean,
you still owe me drinks!”

~

And just like that meeting Malfoy for drinks to mainly listen to him talk about
how he found out he was gay, how his mother somehow always had known and from
now and then questions directed towards Harry and concerning what he was
attracted to became a regular thing our Golden boy actually really was looking
forward to during the week, always wondering, what witty comments or funny
stories the other guy had to tell the next time they met. 

Soon, his discomfort around the blond guy got less and less and he actually
managed to go as far as emitting that he was maybe staring at Cedric Diggory’s
butt from time to time which only made Malfoy throw one hand into the air,
melodramatically commenting “well who on earth hasn’t, I mean this arse was
made to be stared at!” It was still mainly the former Slytherin talking when
it came to sensitive subjects such as sexual orientation, however, they did not
exclusively stick to that topic but also had lively discussions about Quidditch
(Where Malfoy tended to make fun of the awful colour combinations of some
teams), the current reorganization processes going on at the Ministry (Where
Malfoy kept complaining about the pour choices of fabric being made when it came
to redecoration) and any current rumours that did or did not directly concern
them (“Honestly Potter, how could anyone assume I would even touch that creepy
old guy! I am way to rich and good looking to be a gold digger!”). To make it
short, they were actually getting along quite well, surely avoiding difficult
topics such as their past on different sides of the war but looking at Draco
Malfoy now, Harry had a hard time finding any resemblance to the scared and
broken boy who suffered under Voldemort and was raised to be a part of this dark
cult.

We could stop our little story here and simply leave our two boys in that tiny
bar, slowly becoming friends but that somehow would leave some questions open,
such as why Draco does have pink hair or why Harry did not mention the ear rings
and tunnels so far, let alone the tattoos covering the blond guys body up onto
the back of his hands. To get to this part of the story we have to fast forward
a bit into the boys regularly meeting until the day Harry gets to meet Astoria
and Daphne Greengrass or as Draco prefers to call them ‘The two-headed demon
who will once cause my death by liver failure or a heart attack’.

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