In the week Draco had spent away from London, travelling, Potter had managed to break three bones in the fingers on his right hand. Andromeda had called him over- Potter had taken a week's leave from his Auror duties. Draco couldn't quite find the reason Potter hadn't just recovered magically, but he would wager it had something to do with Teddy.

Of course, upon his return, Andromeda requested immediately for Draco to visit, and on his third night back, he was on his way for just that. It had been a week since he'd thought about Potter- about their conversation back at Andromeda's. Buttoning on his shirt, slipping on his duster, Draco did just that.

'Malfoy.' Potter had been standing right by the door of the lawn, apparently waiting for Draco to head inside. 'What's wrong?' Draco had asked, not quite liking the uncharacteristically somber tone Potter had used. 'We've got to talk about our arrangements.'

'Arrangements?' Draco had echoed, mind wandering around so many incessantly wonderful ideas. Potter then licked his lips, let out a breath, and said, ' We're both going to have custody- of Teddy. It's sort of basic that we live together. Andromeda and I discussed this when I arrived- we thought it'd be good spending a week together. By that, I do mean living together. I'm not sure about… about you, but I'm ready to put anything in, for Teddy. I do love him. he's like a son- a son I'm never going to have.' Potter talked distantly, Draco had noticed. 'A son you'd never have? What's that supposed to mean, Potter?' Draco was soft when he asked. Potter just shook his head.

'I'd do anything for Teddy too; we're on the same footing here,' he smiled just as Potter did, 'For the moment. Will it be your house or mine? I'd prefer-

'Yours?' Potter interrupted. 'I'm good with anything.' Draco had scowled, saying, 'I'd prefer we avoid the manor, and my flat. I'd go with your place,' because Draco needed the warmth he'd felt back at Potter's, so many months ago.

'Alright. When will you be free?'

'I'm off to Nice for the next week. I've got some business with some relatives there. I'll owl you when I get back- we'll see.'

Potter had nodded, staring at Teddy change his hair into what I had figured was Lupin's brown.

Draco slipped on into his shoes and socks, brushed back his hair with his fingers, getting most of it artfully into a bun. He gave himself a final look in the mirror, and Apparated.

Andromeda wouldn't be home for another half hour, she'd said, so he'd thought he'd play around with Teddy till then. He reached the foyer, walking down into Teddy's room. He opened the door slowly, asking, 'Teddy?'

Potter was sitting on the edge of Teddy's bed, stroking Teddy's forehead and singing softly. Potter looked up to him, smiled sort of weakly, waved the bandaged hand at him- attention-loving prat- and continued on, singing and stroking Teddy's head and hair with his other hand. Draco walked in, hesitant and quiet, and sat next to Potter, unable to stop himself smiling at Teddy. His hair was black- Draco couldn't see his eyes, but had been willing to wager they'd be grey. Draco's. Potter looked up at Draco while singing, and Potter's voice wasn't nearly as loud and attention-demanding as it was usually- it was low and sweet, sharp notes to his beautiful, airy tuning. His breath caught quickly, Draco noted, but his voice was pleasant nevertheless. Not as good as Draco's. But it was fine, smooth in a way Draco's wasn't. it was low- quiet.

A few minutes into Potter's singing, Teddy stopped shifting. Potter carried out the verse he was on, then stopped. He hummed for a bit, but he and Draco both caught on on how unnatural it sounded, so Potter shut up.

'You have a fine singing voice, Potter.' Potter's head shifted upward a little as he smiled, and his hair stopped covering as much of his cheeks. He'd grown the ghost of a beard- he hadn't shaved. It was on most of his cheeks through his chin but not over his upper lip, nevertheless, it was fetching. Draco averted his gaze, and then looked back. It suited him.

'Yours is better, Malfoy.' Potter and he looked at the other at the same second and it was- it was- eye contact wasn't supposed to be this blazing. In a sweetly crisp way.

'I've heard you at several parties- Parkinson's ball last month?'

'I didn't see you.' Draco had.

'You did. We talked, sort of.'

They had nodded at each other.

Draco shrugged. Potter Summoned two cups of tea- Earl Grey.

Draco loved Earl Grey. 'That's not my type,' he lied. Potter frowned. 'I'd like a coffee.'

Potter did just that.

They sipped in silence, and Draco noticed each one of Potter's quick glances. Draco had started stroking at Teddy's uncovered ankle by then, somewhat absent.

'Draco?' Potter asked tentatively.

'Yes?' this was almost unprecedented.

'We've yet to talk about shifting in.' of course Draco hadn't forgotten. Shared custody of Teddy.

'Do go on, Potter.'

'My flat, then? You've got to tell me when you'll be free. You'll have to dedicate an entire week for this, so I understand if you're too busy and have to call it off…,' he trailed off. Merlin, like Draco would do that. He hated how Potter was going about acting like he could manage Teddy all by himself. Draco was the better parent.

Of course he was. He had parents to learn from- to be, to not be.

And Draco shifted uncomfortably for letting the savage thought seep him as he said, 'This is Teddy, Potter. I'd like to make it very clear- he comes first. He's been a life changer. I'm free any day you ask of me,' and Potter smiled.

'He's been that for me as well.' Both he and potter were quiet. Teddy's hair changed again.

'That happens when he's dreaming,' Potter explained. Draco didn't know.

'I know, Potter. I'm better at this.'

'Alright.'

Potter did that smile again- Draco had to shift. He'd be sporting a hard-on any second now.

'Malfoy?' he looked up at Potter, but Potter was staring out the small window. 'Potter,' was all he said.

'Care for a game?' Potter gestured casually toward the lawn. 'Small bit of space but…'

'I'm not going to take you on without practice, Potter.'

'That's because I'm better,' was Potter's reply.

'It's because I only want to give you my best,' and Draco squirmed. Potter laughed.

'Why haven't you been dating anyone?'

And Draco had to look at Potter because Merlin, that was abrupt. 'You've been keeping up?' Potter shifted. 'Not really, I just haven't seen you out with a woman on your arm since…' Potter looked at Draco, and Draco flushed. 'Since fourth year, actually.' Potter grinned.

'No one's eligible enough, Potter. Ask yourself why I disappear off to France every once in a while.'

'You have family there,' came Potter's vexed response. Draco smirked. Draco hated himself for being every bit of the liar Potter thought he was.

'Yes. Family,' and Potters eyes widened. 'You're not telling me you're married?'

Draco rolled his eyes and finished his coffee. Potter refrained from asking again. 'I'll ask Narcissa.'

Potter looked smug. And confused. And his cheeks were pink.

'You do just that.' Draco exhaled slowly. 'Aren't you married to Weasley?' He wasn't.

'Weasley's married to Granger. And I don't think you marry your best mate, Malfoy.'

Potter had tensed up, as if approaching a sensitive subject. Draco had to venture, of course, so he prodded again. 'I meant the female Weasley.' Potter's brows creased, forehead creased. He ran an idle finger over the side of his unshaved cheek. 'Why would I date the female-'

Potter tensed.

Draco had the sense to let it go. 'Anyway,' he said, 'can you cook?'

Potter grinned.

After Andromeda had assured the pair she and Teddy would do fine another week or so, Potter Apparated Draco to his flat. Which, Draco was told, was also in Muggle London. And when they landed on the front steps, Draco could see his own building on the adjacent block.

Potter, upon questioning, shrugged and told Draco Granger thought he should invest in property, and had thus bought several houses and flats around the country. And one in Germany.

'Germany?'

'I've a distant relative there,' he shrugged. 'Family.' And Draco had to laugh.

Potter brought him inside, and Draco felt giddy. He pushed it down. 'I'm nauseated,' he informed Potter, who promptly put a spell on him- Potter's wand was beside Draco on the couch, not anywhere near Potter-and got him a blanket. When Potter asked Draco if he knew what TVs were, Draco scowled. Potter looked indignant. He put on a film, a noir, and made Draco spaghetti. They'd sat on Potter's couch, eating, watching, talking. After a glass or firewhiskey or two, it was comfortable. Draco couldn't thank merlin enough he had a blanket over him because when Potter leaned in to whisper a dirty joke about the actor, Draco was hard. Granite.

Draco learned over the hours eight to one that Potter was religious ("Everyone needs something to fall back on, Malfoy") and had used up his ever growing gold to buy a church, ("Really, Potter, it's just like you to stick out your arse every chance you get for showing off" followed by "I'd actually rather get the arse, if you know what I mean" which made Draco almost spit his meatball) and that Potter hadn't got an Apparition license. Potter also had a ferret- Draco had to scowl- named Blondie who, despite his name, was brown. Potter loved to cook, loved to pamper, loved to care for- he was a giver. And he had an unreasonable fear of pigeons, he'd divulged to Draco.

He went ballistic when Draco mentioned Malfoy family traditions.

He'd asked Draco so many questions, Draco had to turn the TV off to give his head a rest- and Potter poured him tea and offered to pull up a bed for him. he'd let out a gasp when he mentioned his parent's wedding rites and Malfoy inheritance rites. He'd let out the most genuine smile when Draco told him he'd gotten his first tattoo at age twelve, a narcissus. For his mother. When Potter asked where, Draco took off his shirt and Potter laughed- Draco joined in. and Potter stopped laughing when he'd actually seen it. He didn't believe Draco had designed it. He didn't believe Draco liked drawing or painting.

And then he'd apologized for not believing.

Potter made him talk about himself a lot. Where he'd go. How he was handling his family's name. how he was, how his mother was, how he felt being responsible for Teddy. They talked about Teddy almost half through dinner. And when they'd approached the subject of the life debt Draco owed Potter, Draco couldn't stop himself asking Potter why he'd saved them.

Potter's eyes had never looked so green.

'I couldn't not. I never hated you, not after sectumsempra, not after I saw you the night Dumbledore was killed. I didn't think you deserved it. I don't think anyone deserves that. It was an instinct, I don't know. I just did. It was necessary, it was- right.'

Draco almost fell into Potter lap while excusing himself to use the bathroom. Potter had scented candles around his bath.

Draco couldn't believe Potter.

It was a quarter hour past one when Draco finally left. On his door, Potter told Draco he thought they wouldn't have nearly as many problems as he'd thought earlier about living together.

Draco waved to him, and Apparated.

He didn't sleep that night.

When Draco woke- of course he'd slept at least an hour- Potter had sent an owl. Draco had forgotten his scarf. Draco took the scarf and the letter, fed the owl and burned the letter without reading it. The owl screeched at him and Draco shooed it away.

He didn't need to explain himself.

He left for the Ministry post lunch- late- and immediately went to the Minister- State Affairs- and then back to his flat. When he caught himself walking to the window that faced Potter's flat, he didn't stop himself.

Draco needed another Potter fix, he'd decided.

Draco Apparated to his flat. Potter wasn't there, and Draco stayed. Ate Potter's food. Used Potter's dish towels. Wrote a note.

We should do this again,

DM.

He didn't+ burn Potter's next letter.