First Time for Everything

He was giving up. That was all there was to it. As another hex hit his back, making his knees buckle, Draco made up his mind: he was done. Staggering back to his feet, he grabbed his wand, certain Azkaban would be worth it. But before he could even draw breath, a jinx flew over his shoulder.

“Flipindo!”

As though hit by an invisible Erumpent, the group was thrown back, landing on top of one another with a collective ‘thud’. Whirling around, Draco found himself eye level with the wand that vanquished Voldemort.

"Don't you have something better to do? The war’s over. Fuck off!" Potter yelled as the students gingerly righted themselves with many a groan and venomous glare. Potter glared right back. 

With a final baring of teeth, the group slouched off in the other direction, and the pounding of Draco’s heart slowed. But when a swish of retreating robes caught his attention, it leapt to his throat once more. 

“Potter!” he blurted, arm moving of it’s own accord and grasping his hand. An eyebrow above intense emerald eyes quirked in question. Draco’s breath stuttered.

“Um, t—thanks.” 

Slowly, a smirk lifted Potter’s lips.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you say that, Malfoy.” 

Heart quickening, Draco risked smiling back.

“Don’t get used to it.”

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