excuse me @fictional a whole backstory sprang from my brain while I was drooling staring at your art 😍
Earlier that day…. (8th year table - Great Hall - breakfast time)
“I heard,” Malfoy said in lieu of greeting, “that Longbottom—” he dropped his bag on the eighth years’ table, obnoxious as ever, and made Harry’s spoon rattle on the wood, “—has installed—” there was a brief whiff of his cologne when he leaned over Harry’s shoulder to grab the pitcher of pumpkin juice, and finally finished his dramatic opening line, “—a hot tub in Greenhouse number four!”
Malfoy took the seat next to Harry, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes set expectantly on Harry. His shirt was open at the collar, and Harry caught a glimpse of Malfoy’s collarbone.
Mouth suddenly dry, Harry tore his eyes away from the sliver of milky skin. He stared at the cooling porridge in front of him as his brain rewound back to the words that had just rolled out of Malfoy’s mouth.
“A hot tub,” Harry finally said, a statement rather than a question.
“So I hear,” Malfoy replied. His face was impassive, like he was discussing the chance of rain in Scotland tomorrow.
Impassive, save for the minute twitch of his left eyebrow.
Something for Harry to catch on to, once the cogs finished turning in his brain.
“A hot tub. In a greenhouse,” Harry asked again, lifting his eyebrows.
Malfoy rolled his eyes while buttering a piece of toast. He managed to look frustrated, annoyed, and insolently fit at the same time. Harry would have hated him for it, if he wasn’t deeply mesmerised by the sweep of Malfoy’s pale lashes as he blinked and pursed his lips.
“Well, yes. As I said, Longbottom set it up,” Malfoy explained, the annoyed edge returning to his drawl. He sounded like he really wanted Harry to get the underlying meaning of what he was saying, but thought that Harry was too dumb to even scratch the surface. “Teaching Assistant to Sprout is a dirty job. Quite literally. I think Longbottom snapped the day Lovegood commented on the mandrake pollen sprayed across the… er.” Malfoy gestured towards the space between his legs — between his parted fucking legs — and Harry’s gulp of juice stayed stuck halfway down his esophagus. “…across the front of his trousers.”
Harry regained enough presence of mind to snort quietly at the memory. “Oh, yeah. That was hilarious.”
“To the unsophisticated mind, perhaps—”
“Oh, shut it, Malfoy. Neville looked like he’d tried to powder his crotch.”
Malfoy stared at Harry. Blinked some more. Then he smiled, that slow smirk that he seemed to save only for Harry these days.
“Now you’re just digressing, Potter.” He nodded his chin at Harry. “So? Hot tub? Greenhouse number four? Thoughts?”
“That, er… it’s the greenhouse farthest from the castle?”
Malfoy nodded with an air of sage patience that didn’t fool Harry. “And…?”
“And… a tub would come in handy…”
Malfoy leaned towards Harry, like he was suddenly very interested by the hypothetical use of a hot tub in a half-abandoned greenhouse. “In what kind of circumstances would it come in handy, Potter?”
Harry’s mind switched to full gear. “If someone was… say, gardening in the greenhouse in secret on a Saturday afternoon, and they needed to get clean before coming back to the castle. You know. To avoid getting caught, er… having gardened in secret.”
Malfoy sat back. Took on a thoughtful expression. “Your tiny troll brain never ceases to amaze me, Potter. Gardening in secret? What in the name of preposterous ideas.”
“It is.” Harry shrugged. “Very preposterous, I mean.”
“Outrageously so.” Malfoy nodded, his eyes in the middle distance.
The Great Hall had started to fill with students, and more Eighth Years joined Harry and Malfoy at the table, piling up food on their plates. Malfoy’s shoulder brushed against Harry, and Harry could feel the warmth of Malfoy’s skin through the layers of their shirts. It was like a charm had been cast — a bubble of muffled, near-suffocating desire, cutting off the merry chatter of their classmates and the clanking of cutlery on plates.
“Who would even think of using that wretched hot tub?” Harry mused, almost to himself.
Next to him, Malfoy shook his head, like he couldn’t believe he was agreeing, for the first time in his life, with something Harry said.
“Who indeed, Potter. Who indeed.”
