the day we connected // drarry

day 8 - shopping

The following weekend, Draco and Harry went back to Hogsmeade. Eighth-years were permitted to visit the village on whatever weekend they desired, so long as they had signed permission forms and somebody not attending knew where they were.

"Hey, Blaise," said Draco as he and Harry reached the bottom of the staircase to the boys' dormitories. They walked over to Blaise, who was sitting by the fire, wrapped in a blanket with an open book in his lap.

"Morning," Blaise croaked.

"Feeling any better?"

"Than I felt at breakfast?" Blaise snapped. "No."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Anyway - Potter and I are going to Hogsmeade if anyone asks. I assume you're staying here."

Blaise nodded, looking back at his book. "You'll probably have better luck finding dark corners to snog in if you stayed in the castle, though," he added quietly, and Draco turned around slowly.

"Shut the fuck up," he said coldly, turning on his heel and marching out of the common room. Harry followed, trying not to laugh.

Few other eighth-years seemed interesting in going to the village. Perhaps they had already stocked up on enough Honeydukes' sweets and Zonko's products to last until official outing, or maybe they had better things to do with their day. Either way, Harry and Draco were pleased that no others from their year decided to leave at the same time they did, as they were able to walk to the village hand-in-hand.

"You know, Potter," said Draco as they strolled down the main street. "You're a celebrity. It's time you started dressing like one."

Harry laughed. "What?"

"Come on, we're going shopping," Draco announced, linking his arm through Harry's.

Harry pulled away. "No, no, no. I'm not about to let you completely redecorate my wardrobe while you get off scot-free."

Draco looked at him. "What are you suggesting?"

"I'm not suggesting anything," said Harry. "I just think that we should get you some clothes that don't quite scream 'I'm a fucking snob!' like your current ones do."

Draco stared at him, appalled and totally thrown by Harry's comment. "Excuse me?"

Harry felt his cheeks turning red. "Sorry - I just meant that you're making me redecorate my wardrobe, you might as well do it too."

Draco shrugged. "Alright. Let's see what you can do. I'm warning you, Potter, if you take away my beauty, you won't wake up tomorrow."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I defeated Voldemort when I was one. You don't scare me, Malfoy."

***

"I look like an idiot," Harry whined from one of the changing stalls. "I look like an actual idiot. For fuck's sake, Malfoy, if you've run off and taken my clothes-"

He whirled around, checking to see that his clothes were still on the floor by the curtain, which they were.

"Relax, Potter," said Draco, popping his head through Harry's curtain as Harry frowned at his reflection in the mirror, turning to see if the outfit got any better from a different angle. "I'm sure you look f- Oh, never mind. Take it off. Take it off. Merlin's beard, what's wrong with me?"

Harry nodded. "My thoughts exactly."

He pulled his shirt off, and Draco raised his eyebrow, a mischievous grin growing on his handsome face as he studied Harry's muscles.

"What are you staring at?" Harry asked, trying on a different shirt. "Nothing you haven't seen before."

"Not from the back!" Draco gasped, and Harry studied himself in the mirror, flattening the shirt down over his abs. This button-down worked a lot better than the horrid t-shirt he had had on a minute ago. "This is a yes," he said, unbuttoning it off and throwing it into the pile of other tops and jumpers he liked. "These jeans are good too. Right, that's it."

"That's it?" Draco repeated, watching Harry put his own t-shirt back on. "But there are more clothes in the shop!"

"There are, but I don't have enough money for any more! Come on, it's your turn. Have you even tried on any of the clothes I gave you?"

Draco shook his head, and Harry clapped at him. "Chop chop!" he pulled on his Gryffindor Quidditch jumper on over the top of his old t-shirt. He picked up the clothes he had disliked more than Pepper Imps, and chucked them in the clothes bin outside the changing stall, then lifted the clothes he liked and put them into his basket. Draco had ducked back into his own stall and was trying on a denim jacket that was far too small for him.

Harry and Draco emerged from the shop twenty minutes later, each carrying two full bags of clothes. They would have walked back to the castle holding hands again, but their hands were full.

--

Guess that time I said shit wasn't the only time I cursed in the book. It just seems much more realistic with Harry and Draco cursing at each other all the time. 

Anyway, sorry that this chapter took so long to get you! I wasn't sure how to get them shopping and experimented with a few other scenarios until I was satisfied.

Don't forget to vote + follow! :)