Draco and Harry were sat down at lunch in Hogsmeade at the Three Broomsticks with Neville and Hermione, Harry having forced Draco to come along so he could properly reintroduce him to his friends. Ron was in detention, not that he had wanted to come anyway. In fact, Harry was quite sure that he had actually finished his week of detentions with Snape the previous day, but Ron had gone down to the dungeons anyway while the other four left the castle.

Neville was quietly staring at Harry and Draco, slowly drinking his mug of Butterbeer as Hermione happily chatted with them.

"I have a question."

They looked at him, and Harry nodded. "What is it, Neville?"

Neville continued to stare at them, his eyes tracing over Draco's arm, which was casually draped around Harry's shoulders.

"How did you two even get together? Like, how the fuck did that even start, because one day you hated each other, and then you came into breakfast together holding hands the next day. What did I miss?"

Harry and Draco looked at each other, and Harry cleared his throat. "Funny story that, actually. You see, we were fighting one day..."

§§§§§§

"At least I don't have a father stupid enough to land himself in Azkaban for fighting a bunch of fourteen and fifteen year olds under the command of some bald noseless guy!"

Draco turned red, half ready to shove Harry into the Black Lake that they were arguing next to. "At least my father brought his wand to that fight instead of forgetting it and getting himself and his wife killed!"

"At least my father didn't fight people half his age!" Harry stepped forward, pushing Draco back.

Draco growled, shoving Harry back into the grass, Harry's wand falling out of his pocket. "At least I have a father!"

Harry immediately scrambled to his feet, drawing his fist back and swinging it at Draco's face. But Draco had learnt since third year when Hermione Granger's fist had met his nose.

He raised his hand, catching Harry's fist and staring him down. Harry's mouth just dropped open, and he stared at Draco in awe.

"Bro..." he whispered, and Draco immediately burst into laughter, dropping Harry's fist and doubling over, the other boy still looking amazed.

"No, don't laugh, show me how to do that!"

§§§§§§

"...and that's pretty much it," Harry concluded, and Neville shook his head. Hermione, however, had heard the story about eight times already, and wasn't paying attention, instead drawing shapes on the frosted over window.

"You tried to punch him and he caught your fist."

Draco nodded, setting his now empty mug of Butterbeer down. "And now we're dating. That's pretty much it."

Neville shook his head, not sure if they were lying to him or not. Hermione looked at him, raising her eyebrows.

"Don't push it, if you do, they'll just tell you that catching someone's fist when they try to punch you is all a part of the gay agenda. Just go with it. It's probably true, they're mental enough."

"Hey!"