Draco secretly wooing Harry in french
It started in the early years of Hogwarts when Harry had rejected Draco's handshake. The Slytherin was so mad that anyone could've preferred a poor ginger covered in freckles over this wealthy and wit gene-god that he couldn't stop himself cursing Harry in french, enjoying when the other was completely unaware what he was saying, eyebrows scrunched and eyes narrowed.
It continued that way for years, Draco finding a huge amount of satisfaction of the idea and reality that he could confuse Harry, that he could say anything to him and Harry would just scrunch his eyebrows and shout back insults.
Draco noticed that Harry had been troubled of this, since he couldn't ever get an upper hand of Draco. The Slytherin was always a step ahead of him, so Harry started to use muggle items and things to insult Draco back.
"You know, you're just as dumb as a rubber duck!" Harry had said one day in fourth year, comparing Draco to something unknown. And despite seeing the glee in Harry's eye and the smug grin on his face, he couldn't resist to ask what a rubber duck was from Crabbe and Goyle. Of course neither of them knew, and that made Draco even more angry.
Now, they were both throwing insults of something the other didn't know anything about.
And it was rather amusing from an outsider's perspective. Pansy knew a little bit of french herself, so when Draco would insult Harry she would giggle along with Hermione, who was laughing because Harry was comparing Draco to an angry french pizza delivery man.
Draco didn't know when it all changed, or maybe it wasn't a specific moment but rather him slipping to it unconsciously over time, but somehow he was rattling about Harry in french not because he enjoyed the satisfaction of the other not knowing, but because it seemed that Harry's face all scrunched up, his cheeks a hint of pink from agitation and his hands in fists were just an adorable sight.
And Harry didn't know when it all had changed either, but somehow as he grew older, he didn't want Draco angry because he wanted to displease the other boy as much as he could, but because Draco cursing in french was just incredibly hot.
"J'adore tes yeux! Et peux tu arrêter d'être si mignon!? Merde!"
Harry had quickly came up short with muggle words to insult Draco with, so he had to change his plan: He would start studying french. Or rather, now he'd carry a french-english dictionary with him at all times.
It had been one of the best moments of Harry's life: To see how Draco's eyes had widened and how his cheeks had turned pink as Harry in sixth year had started to flip the pages of his dictionary. He had at nights scribbled over some words and sentences that Draco had used earlier and translated them, but it didn't make yet any sense. Harry had picked over some phrases and words like J'adore and putain and mignon, but he still had to connect the dots.
"Did you justㅡ" Harry didn't quite believe his eyes. Was the dictionary really saying that Draco had called him... cute? "Did you justㅡ You called me..."
Harry was very aware that he sounded like a broken record, but he was also very aware that he was in an empty corridor, Hermione and Ron waiting him in the Great Hall for dinner. Draco's companion was nowhere to be seen either, and he focused his gaze on Draco as the other boy fidgeted and blushed.
Harry had stepped now closer, slowly closing the gap between him and Draco. His breathing was shallow and his heart was thumping loudly. Harry was questioning if he had translated the words from Draco's mouth right, but based on how Draco was looking at him, maybe Harry had a knack at french after all.
"Je pense que tu es bel."
Harry flipped over the pages. "What's the uhh... how does pense...?"
Draco snorted, chuckling at Harry. "Penser."
It took Harry a while, but when he closed the book his cheeks were reddened and he was looking up at Draco with wide and unraveled eyes. "You think that I'm beautiful." It wasn't a question, because Harry knew it was true and this time he was sure that he had translated it correctly.
"Je pense que tu es bel aussi." Harry whispered, cringing at his terrible accent as Draco snorted again, setting his hand on the back of Harry's neck, bringing him closer. Harry could smell the sweet scent of vanilla and apple and then he could taste it as his lips collided with Draco's.
Sorry for my probably terrible french. I have studied it for years now but it's so hard! Anyways, hope you enjoy this piece <3
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