Malfoy. A younger and shorter version, but most definitely still a Malfoy. Harry could see it in the way Scorpius held his head in a proud fashion when his broom jumped instantly into his hand when practice began. He wasn't entirely sure why the idea of a junior Malfoy left him so surprised. Of course Draco had a son by now. Most of his former classmates were already coupled off and starting families. He was the one sitting around during his winter downtime trying to figure out where things had gone wrong with Ginny.
Perhaps it's the idea that even Malfoy found someone to produce a child with that's really bothering you, said a tiny voice in the back of his head.
Harry gritted his teeth. This was ridiculous. He was finally living his dream, working with kids, playing Quidditch, and getting paid for it. He shouldn't be focusing on Malfoy. Again. He wasn't too keen on the idea of a repeat of their 6th year.
Instead he brought his thoughts back to the task at hand. He was in the air on his Polaris 1500, high above the field. Below him, black and white mesh jerseys raced from one end of the pitch to the other, his advanced group already engaged in a heated match. They were quite good actually, Harry had to admit. Probably the combination of inherent flying skills and the practiced hand of Professor Flotter, the new flying instructor at Hogwarts. Directly across from him, Tim was peering at the game with hawk-like concentration, more than ready to catch a falling student, despite the skill level of their group.
Harry found his attention being diverted again, this time noticing how the blue of Tim's eyes matched the sky behind him. His body rode low on his broom, creating a sleek aerodynamic effect that Harry suddenly couldn't tear his eyes away from. Not to mention the amazing things the broom was doing to his assistant coach's ass…
Green eyes widened comically after running over that last thought again. What the hell was going on with him? Was he really that hard up that he was ogling his staff members? His male staff members at that? Well not Phil, that would just be weird. Although Marco had a dangerous side that he wouldn't mind finding out more about…
Harry dragged a hand down his face and composed his breathing into a normal fashion. Later. He would deal with this later.
"Boss – I need to talk to you for a minute," Phil yelled from across the pitch as Harry apparated under the bleachers a few days into camp. He jogged over to Harry with a slightly pained expression in his eyes. Harry's hand instantly went to palm his wand which was sticking out of his jeans pocket.
"What's wrong?" he asked warily.
"It's Allie. She's ill, nothing terrible. We just think she's gotten a touch of that Griping Bug that's going around."
Harry's mouth twisted into a concerned frown. "That's really contagious, isn't it?" he asked, walking with Phil back to the office, but with enough distance between them that he wouldn't be exposed to anything his friend had inadvertently picked up from his sister.
"It is. Don't worry – I'm fine," Phil assured. "She just wanted to let you know that she won't be able to come in for a couple of days. Well you know, in between getting sick and then complaining incessantly," he added with a wry grin.
Harry sighed, but nodded understandingly. It wasn't Allie's fault that she'd caught a bug. He was just going to have to find someone to replace her for a while. His teeth gnawed his lower lip in concentration. But as they neared the office, Phil spoke again. "I figured we could just juggle some of us around, make sure all the groups are well-monitored without the bother of getting a temporary coach."
He paused inside the doorway of the office thinking, then swiveled his head in Phil's direction. "Yeah. Yeah, that's fine. We'll do that."
Before he could turn his attention back in front of him, he bumped into a tall warm body. "Whoa there Harry! You alright?" Tim asked, gripping Harry's elbows so that he wouldn't stumble.
The brunette blinked at Tim rapidly, slightly thrown off by their close proximity for more than one reason. He still hadn't completely wrapped his head around his feelings for his co-worker and was suddenly very much aware of the magic and waves of soothing heat emanating from his skin.
Harry stood up quickly, nearly knocking Phil off-balance behind him, and marched swiftly to his desk. "I'm fine. Sorry about that."
A timid grin lit up Tim's face as he followed Harry to his desk and sat on the edge. "No worries. So has Phil told you about Allie?"
Harry sat down in his chair heavily, trying to ignore how Tim's ass was perched perfectly on the corner of the furniture in front of him. "He did. He suggested we kind of rotate instead of trying to get someone on a temporary basis."
"What's wrong with Allie?" a deep voice asked from the doorway. Marco and Sophia were the last to arrive, as usual.
"Griping Bug," Phil replied from his desk at the front of the office.
Sophia turned up her nose, but shook her head without saying anything. Marco spoke for her. "My mum had that last year. She would fuss at me for twenty minutes about how my hair is too long, get sick for ten, and then another twenty on the dangers of leaving dirty dishes in the sink. It's maddening."
Harry grinned from behind the schedule he was examining, allowing his staff to continue their conversation for a few moments while he tried to rearrange the coaching formation.
"Does anyone have any preferences as to which group they'd like to work with?" Harry asked several minutes later.
Phil cleared his throat before responding. "Actually, I was going to ask if you minded working with the beginners group with me. They can get a little…unruly, and I could really use another set of eyes."
Harry drummed his fingers along the edge of his desk. "Ok. That's fine. As long as Tim doesn't mind working with our group alone." He tilted his head up to gauge Tim's reaction. The man was gazing back at him thoughtfully.
A small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes appeared on Tim's face. "Have at it. I can handle the teens on my own."
"Are you sure?" Harry asked softly, a little perturbed at Tim's response. "I'm not ditching you, you know. This is just until Allie comes back. Then I'm all yours again."
Shit. Why did I say that?
But the statement seemed to convince Tim. The corners of his eyes crinkled with true mirth this time. He nodded his assent and then uttered quietly, "Until Allie returns."
It was two rogue Bludgers to the kidney later that Harry remembered why he preferred working with the older group so much. Though everyone was progressing nicely, the youngest set of campers were still, well…young. There was lots of wobbly flying, throws toward the goal that missed by several feet, and Harry was under the distinct impression that the Seeker was too concerned with his handle grip to even think about the Snitch. But even while rubbing his aching side absently, he realized that they might not be the most efficient group, but they were having fun. Even Scorpius, who Harry thought would be more reserved than the others given his Malfoy background.
However, the child rose to the challenge of not only remaining secure and steady on his broom, but proving quite adept at catching the Quaffle and not fumbling it so the opposing team could steal. When his teammate, Corinne Sories, a willowy wisp of a girl, was able to score a goal past the rival Keeper, Scorpius thrust a fist in the air so triumphantly, Harry couldn't help but grin. He turned mid-air in Harry's direction, preening, and the coach was caught off guard by the pure joy illuminating the boys face. A heavy knot tightened in Harry's stomach and he was suddenly overcome with emotion.
Its just because Scorpius probably isn't permitted to really express himself at home that has you feeling this way. Besides he's not your kid and Draco would have a hissy fit if he knew you were getting sappy over his son's exhilaration.
It was that thought that sobered him and cleared his mind enough for him to go and help Phil sort out a squabble with two of the Beaters.
"Mr. Potter," a small voice called from behind him. It was nearing 4pm and parents were appearing in droves to wrangle their children off their brooms and bustle them away in another pop of disapparition. Harry was busy strapping the equipment back into heavy wooden trunks, but turned around to meet the cool gray eyes of Scorpius Malfoy.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth at Scorpius's formality. "It's Coach Harry, Scorpius, remember?" Harry had spent most of the first few days of camp encouraging the students to call him by his first name, lest he spend the entire summer being bombarded with memories of Hogwarts professors chastising him in the hallways with "Mr. Potter."
"Right, sorry sir." Pink tinged his cheeks lightly at the gentle reprimand. "I just wanted to ask you if you would mind giving me extra help with Quidditch." He scraped the toe of his sneakers into the grass in a conventional child-like fashion.
Harry's dark brows furrowed. "I'm not sure what you need help with Scorpius. Everyone in your group is a beginner and you're faring quite well under Coach Phil and Coach Allie. You're probably one of the best flyers on your team." He added that last statement hesitantly, not wanting to feed into the Malfoy superiority complex.
Scorpius took the compliment as given and carried on. "Thank you, sir. My dad taught me. But I want to be the best when I go to Hogwarts. Some of the flying patterns I have trouble with. I get them confused."
The look of distress on the boys face compelled Harry to kneel down to his level and place a hand on his shoulder. "Scorpius. We've only been at camp for a short while. These things take time and practice. You're only seven years old. There's plenty of time to get it right before you're trying out for the school house team. But -" Harry inhaled deeply, steeling himself for his next statement. "If you really want, I suppose I could give you some additional lessons. If it's ok with your dad." He bit the inside of his cheek thinking about what Draco would say when Scorpius told him he wanted to work one on one with his childhood nemesis.
"Really? That's great Mr – I mean – Coach Harry!" Scorpius' small face lit up with gratitude and then he seemed to catch himself. He arranged his features back into a more sedate manner and extended a tiny hand for Harry to shake.
"Thank you," he said sincerely.
Harry breathed shakily, instantly transported to the same scenario he encountered with Draco so many years ago. How different would things have been if he'd accepted that hand the first time? If nothing else, Harry learned from his mistakes. He took Scorpius' hand and shook it lightly. "You're welcome."
Another smile crossed his face until he heard a pop of apparition. Harry and Scorpius turned their heads simultaneously toward the sound and took in Draco Malfoy wearing forest green robes and looking tired. Draco's gray eyes, so much like his son's, but deeper, flicked to Harry and the fatigue seemed to vanish instantaneously. A sneer began to form as the eyes flicked back and saw him shaking hands with Scorpius.
"I have to go," Scorpius said, dropping Harry's hand like a dung-bomb and racing to where Draco stood about fifteen feet away. "I'll see you tomorrow!" he called over his shoulder and waved.
Harry waved back and then stood before looking back to Draco. Scorpius had already reached him and was holding his hand in preparation for side-apparition. Harry nodded his head curtly in Draco's direction and wondered if he would acknowledge him at all. Draco seemed to pause for a moment and then rolled his eyes, disappearing with Scorpius in the next instant.
He dragged a hand through his hair and finished packing up the remaining equipment. A snort forced its way through his nose as he thought about Scorpius asking Draco's permission to receive extra help. Harry dragged his wand out of his pocket and levitated the trunk over to the broom shed.
Good luck with that, kid. You're braver than I am.