When Draco joined his friends, Blaise had a dangerously mischievous glint in his eyes, Pansy mirrored it. Oh no. Draco glanced at Theo. The Slytherin read a book, deliberately missing out on the conversation. Draco narrowed his eyes as he saw Theo’s book was upside down. Very casual.

The horrid memories flashed inside Draco. Valentine’s disaster. An entire closet of faked love letters. Planned to send to every Slytherin boy in their year. Signed by Draco Malfoy.

“Draco,” Pansy purred, like a wolf luring a sheep, “You will need to go to the Room of Requirements at two-thirty tomorrow. They planned on discussing the details of the meeting earlier.”

Draco set his glare at Pansy, “Will Blaise go as well?”

“Certainly,” Pansy beamed. Draco caught from the corner his eyes, Theo’s lips twitched, suppressing a smile. This can’t be good. But Blaise will be there. Anything was possible, ranging from hexing his hair green to making him drink love potions. Oh no.

As if reading his mind, Blaise teased, “Don’t worry. We are not doing anything to you.”

“Swear on Salazar,” Draco challenged, Snake hissing with him. Finally. Something they agreed on.

“Alright.” Draco blinked in confusion as Blaise raised up his hand, “I swear on Salazar that me, Blaise Zabini, along with Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott will not prank Draco Malfoy tomorrow afternoon at the Room of Requirements.”

“No love potions,” Draco demanded.

“No love potions,” Blaise repeated.

“No feeding me potions or hexing me.”

“No feeding or hexing Draco Malfoy.”

“No polyjuicing.”

“No polyjuicing,” Blaise repeated, his grin grew wider with every demand.

“No serenading.” Draco added for good measure. Blaise once tried it, publicly. Draco hexed Blaise’s broom to sing Muggle pop songs in retaliation.

“No serenading Draco Malfoy in love sonnets,” Blaise beamed. “No serenading of any kind,” he added as Draco threw him a pointed look.

Alright. That was. Suspiciously easy. His friends’ glances still hadn’t died down, “So, what is this all about?”

“You’ll see tomorrow,” Theo inputted. He was in on it as well. Disaster. Simple disaster. Draco was doomed. Draco ignored it for now. He’ll just have to be prepared. For what? He probably shouldn’t eat lunch at the Great Hall tomorrow. Who knew what his friends would add to his drink?

Draco plopped onto the sofa as Blaise started complaining about Slughorn giving him extra work.

After a few minutes, Theo stood up.

“Where are you going this early?” Blaise mused.

“Quidditch practice tomorrow. McGonagall just told me, inter-house training with Gryffindor. I’m planning on waking up extra early, be the first ones on the field,” Theo suggested, “You two should go to bed early as well. I’ll call you tomorrow morning.”

Blaise flopped back on the sofa in protest. Draco groaned. The two followed Theo back to the dorm.

Draco crisscrossed on his bed, he touched his necklace, caressing Snake to take it off. Snake hissed petulantly. Turning around to ignore him. Draco’s eyebrow twitched as he tugged the silver chain more forcefully.

No way he would wear this to Quidditch practice nor the meeting. Double disaster. Draco couldn’t imagine the number of times Snake would expose his deepest, darkest inner thoughts.

“Play nicely,” Draco hissed. Snake rolled his tongue out in protest. Fantastic.

“I’ll stun you,” Draco half-shouted, reaching for his wand. Snake didn’t seem bothered.  

Theo watched with amusement. Blaise climbed onto Draco’s bed.

“What’s up Malfoy, couldn’t take off a necklace?” Blaise stared at Draco, making no efforts to help.

“It’s matching jewelry with Potter’s. He has a sentient Lion bracelet. Draco has … this,” Theo fueled the chaos named Blaise Zabini. Draco witnessed in horror as his friend’s dark brown eyes fluttered, like he was processing the information and finding ways of using it.

“Just help me stun it or something, it worked when Pippin did a spell,” Draco demanded. No way he was keeping it on.

“Don’t,” Theo warned, his voice suddenly serious, “If they didn’t teach you the spell. It is likely normal spells won’t work. Did they ask for fees when they knocked out Snake?”

“Yeah,” Draco whispered.

“Then don’t try anything rash. The spell won’t be your normal charms,” Theo concluded. Snake hissed in agreement. The thought was terrifying. More terrifying than Potter asking if he’s gay.

Never wear accessories ever again. Except silver watches. Draco vowed internally. He went to bed with Snake still on his neck.

The little menace laid on the silk bedsheets, humming like it was enjoying. Its green eyes fluttered shut, mirroring Draco as they both went to sleep.

In the Gryffindor common room, Harry and his friends were discussing about Quidditch training tomorrow. More specifically, his friends were. He was thinking about other things.

Before everyone went back to their dorms that night, Harry had caught Pansy in the crowd.

“Pansy, could you do me a favor?” Harry asked, lightly touching her wrist, he pulled back immediately when he saw Nott’s darkened expression.

“It’s about Draco,” he supplied.

Pansy’s eyes lit with interest.

“Tell him to meetup half an hour earlier at the Requirements Room for pre-meeting discussions,” Harry grinned sheepishly at the plan, “I want to talk with him in private.”

“Want us to setup a date for you and our dear son?” Pansy acted stern, linking arms around Theo. Harry blushed at her words but nodded regardless.

Pansy’s expression turned to unfiltered, unaltered joy, “Anything for our golden boy!”

Now, the question was, where to? Harry knew the Room of Requirements would respond to his desires, but he needed to know what he desired. Perhaps somewhere small and cozy, where Draco couldn’t run away, couldn’t avoid him. Where Harry could easily trap the flustering grey eyes. Harry pushed away the thought. They need to talk, relax. Relax and talk. Treat the jewelry incident with maturity. Gryffindor common room? There’s a chance Draco wouldn’t feel comfortable. He needed somewhere neutral. Astronomy towers? Too much history. Too much outdoors. Harry grumbled, why had he asked the question like a flustered first-grade Hufflepuff. To be fair, Draco’s response wasn’t the best show of maturity either. Where is Harry’s supposed-Gryffindor bravery? Just somewhere safe would do, like the Burrow, if in some fantasy world Draco could relax with the Weasley vibe permeating every corner. Harry chuckled at the mental image of Authur going on one of his Muggle rants to Draco as the Slytherin stared at Authur in horror.

Harry decided, he needed somewhere indoors, cozy, maybe a fireplace, soft armchairs. Somewhere … domestic, homely. Harry groaned, he was hopeless, wasn’t he?

Ron’s prideful tone interrupted Harry’s train of thoughts, “I’m planning on waking up early, get to the field first. Psychological warfare.” Hermione huffed with disbelief as Ginny seemed indifferent. Harry blinked with confusion, trying to trace back his friends’ conversations.

Quidditch. Right.

“How early are we talking about?” Harry asked tentatively.

“Sunrise,” Ron grinned.

“You suddenly want to start training three hours than you normally would, is it the competitive thing going on with Theo?” Hermione inputted, little annoyed. Ron flushed, mumbling something incoherent.

“It is,” Ginny answered for his brother, “His pride can’t take a hit.”

Harry chuckled as he stood up.

“Sleeping this early?” Ginny asked.

“Need energy for tomorrow,” Harry disappeared down the corridor, and possibly more time to overthink.