Reluctant Cinderella

[bleedingangel84]

Title: Reluctant Cinderella

Author: bleedingangel84 

Beta: None

Pairing:  Harry/Draco

Rating: PG

Warnings: Language, abuse, fluff, Non-magic AU

Word Count:  1,671

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction created for fun and no profit has been made.

Notes: This is possibly the longest Harry/Draco I’ve ever written, and it’s not typical of my usual things, but this idea kidnapped my brain, and this is what came of it. I hope readers enjoy this departure from my norm, but if you don’t, feel free to say so. If it’s slightly acking in fluff, I’m sorry, but I did my best.

Written for: hd_fluff  Fluffy Halloween Fest 2017. Inspired by the prompt of a Fairytale AU Cinderella.

Summary: Harry  is one very reluctant Cinderella.

“Boy! Get out here now!”

“Yes, Uncle Vernon! Coming!”

“What in the name of God did you do to my favourite shirt?! It’s ruined! Why did I ever trust a lazy arse like you with the ironing? You spoil everything, boy! You’re nothing but a waste of space! Why Petunia ever agreed to take you is beyond me. What do you have to say for this?!” Vernon’s tirade ended with him waving a scorched blue button-down shirt like a matador waving a red cape at a bull.

Harry’s green eyes widened as he surveyed the damaged shirt. “I-I don’t know! I didn’t mean to do it. I guess the iron was too hot.  I just—got distracted, I suppose.”

“By thoughts of that party, no doubt.  You can never do anything right, and I don’t know why Draco Malfoy would’ve ever invited you anywhere. The Malfoys are far top elegant for the likes of you."

“Everyone in our class was invited. That means I was included in the invitation as well.”

“Are you being cheeky with me, boy?”

“I was just explaining, Uncle Vernon. I’m sorry about your shirt. Can I go to the party if I promise to do all of my chores perfectly and don’t make another mistake?”

“I should say no. God knows you barely know how to do up your own shoelaces, and you’ll probably fail miserably, but if you can do your chores perfectly with no further mistakes, I might let you go. Dudley needs the connections with the Malfoy family for when he goes to university.”

Harry nearly laughed aloud at the thought of his thick-as-a-troll cousin ending up at uni, but knew better than to give voice to his amusement. “Thank you, Uncle Vernon! I’ll do everything perfectly, you’ll see!”

“See to it that you do, you little freak, or you won’t set foot at that party.”

With his Uncle’s words ringing in his ears, Harry vowed to himself that he would do everything his uncle demanded for the next moth so that he could go to Draco Malfoy’s party.

***

“What’s the matter, Harry? You look tired.”

“I am tired, Hermione. My uncle must think I’m some sort of work horse. He’s made my chores even worse than usual lately because I had the gall to get invited to Draco Malfoy’s Halloween party this year. He’s hoping I won’t get everything done so he’ll have an excuse to forbid me to go.”

“At the rate you’re going, mate, you could pass for a mummy. You won’t even need a costume,” his friend Ron chimed in from behind.

“Ron! When did you get here? We’re going to be late for classes!” Hermione scolded.

“I was eating breakfast. I brought you some toast, mate. Here,” Ron offered a serviette wrapped around two slices of toast, which Harry took gratefully, trying not to eat them as if he were starving.

“Thanks, Ron. I owe you one.”

“No worries. I still wish you’d let me tell me mum, though, Harry.”

“No, Ron, don’t. I’ve only got a short while before school is over anyway. I can handle it, I promise.”

“If you say so, mate. If you ask me, your uncle needs to be in prison. The way he works you—it isn’t right. You’re his nephew, not a servant.”

“Try telling him that,” Harry said bitterly.

“Ron’s right, Harry. We really should report him,” Hermione added.

“No. I don’t want that. I just want to be a normal person for once, and be able to go to a party like everyone else.”

“What are you going to dress as? It is a fancy dress party.”

“I don’t have the money for a proper costume. I was thinking I might take your suggestion, actually. My clothes are almost ragged enough to pass off as mummy bandages.”

“I didn’t meet it like that, mate."

“Why not a ball gown? I have mine left from last year’s winter ball, and I could have it altered to fit you.”

“Hermione! I’m a boy, in case you hadn’t noticed!” Harry yelled.

“It’s supposed to be a night where everything gets turned on its head, Harry.”

“No dress and no slippers! I’m not a doll,” Harry barked.

“Who brought up slippers?” Hermione teased, rolling her eyes when Harry shot her a narrow-eyed look. “Okay, fine. I’ll borrow one of my dad’s suits and a pair of dark sunglasses. You can go as an American FBI agent who kills aliens or something.”

“Thank you, Hermione! You’re brilliant!”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Granger, are you aware the zip on your backpack is about to burst? What are you carrying in there, bricks?” drawled a sarcastic voice.

“Books, Malfoy. What else?”

“With you? Who knows? Anyway, I just wanted to know if you lot were coming to my party. My mum needs to know if she’s ordered enough food. You are coming, aren’t you, Potter?”

“I plan to, y-yes,” Harry stammered, trying not to focus on the fluttery feeling Draco’s eyes always seemed to cause in his stomach.

“Good. I hope to see there. My dad has an offer he’d like to make.”

“An offer? What sort of offer?”

“He wanted to know if I knew of any people worthy of a scholarship, and I gave him your name.”

“I’m—not that I’m not grateful, mind you, but I’m not some charity case, Malfoy.”

“I know that, Potter, but I also know you could use the money, and you deserve it.”

Harry felt his stomach churn with nerves and his cheeks burn with something that was half pride at Draco’s compliment and half humiliation at needing his father’s charity. “I should go. Don’t want to be late for class. I don’t think I’ll be coming to the party after all.”

“What? Why? I want you there. You’re the only reason I invited that walrus cousin of yours,” Draco said, feeling bewildered by Harry’s sudden turn.

“My uncle was right, that’s why. Malfoys and Potters don’t mix, and never will.”

“That’s a load of bollocks, and you know it! We’ve all been in school together since we were eleven.”

“You don’t get it, Malfoy! You’re too perfect, and I’m just—me, the poor kid who needs your  dad’s charity just to make it to uni, who gets worked to the bone by his uncle, and who has no clue which fork to use at dinner. Why would you even want me at your party?”

“Do you want to know what I see when I look at you, Potter? The first things I ever noticed about you were your eyes, and I’ve never stopped noticing them. Come to the party, please? It won’t be fun if you’re not there. Everyone else leaves me bored.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Harry asked.

“Erm, boys, if you two are done making eyes at each other, we have Chemistry in one minute.”

“Yes, Granger, we do,” Draco answered, but he was looking straight at Harry.

Ron just shook his head, following Hermione into the class as fast as his feet could carry him.

***

“Boy! Where are you?! Dudley is ready to go!” Vernon hollered up the stairs on Halloween night. “Did you do all your chores like you promised?”

“You know I didn’t. You made sure I couldn’t because you can’t stand for me to have any fun! It was Dudley who egged Mrs. Figg’s house, not me. You should be punishing him!” Harry bellowed,finally having been pushed past the limit of his endurance. He was all but choking on the bitterness he felt at having to disappoint Draco. He feared that the blond would think Harry was afraid,when the only thing he really wanted was to be with Draco at his party.

“You insolent little freak! Into the cupboard with you! Dudley has a party to attend. And when I get back, you will pay for your behaviour!” Vernon snarled, purple-faced in his fury.”

***

Harry sighed hopelessly. Vernon had locked him in the cupboard, and he saw no way of getting out. It felt like he’d been in there for hours with only the spiders for company when he heard a knocking on the outside.

“Harry, it’s us! We’ve come to help! Ron’s picking the lock now.” Hermione told him.

“Oh, thank God! I was afraid I was going to be in there all night. Why are you guys here and not at Draco’s?”

“You didn’t come to get your costume, so I assumed your uncle wasn’t letting you come. We came to check and saw the padlock. You never told us it was this bad, Harry.”

“Scold me later. Right now, just hand me the costume so I can get dressed, yeah?”

“Trick or treat,” Hermione answered cheerfully.

“What does that mean?” Harry asked.

“You’ll see,” Hermione smiled mischievously.

***

“Hermione, I ought to kill you! I told you I didn’t want to wear a damn dress! These stilettos are killing me, and I don’t see Draco or his father anywhere!”

“You look amazing, Harry, don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry, she says. How in bloody hell am I supposed to talk to Draco looking like some cheap tart?”

“That is my dress, you realise,” Hermione hissed.

“Sorry. I’m just nervous. And these bloody heels really are killing me. Where did Ron go, by the way?”

“He’s over by the food table, as usual.”

Just as the pair made their way over to join Ron, Harry heard a sharp intake of breath from behind him. “Potter, is that you? You look positively smashing in that gown. I see Cinderella finally made it to the ball. But you do seem to be losing a shoe. May I put it on for you?”

“That depends. Are you my Prince Charming?”

“I’d like to be, if you let me.”

“I told you the dress would work, Harry.”

“Hermione, I love you, but please shut up.”

“I’m just glad you got your happily ever after.”