Draco's had a rough weekend. He's not particularly pleased with having his comfortable world flipped on its axis and turned upside down. In fact, if he could do it all over again, he'd have a time turner in his hand immediately. Unfortunately for Draco, Harry Potter tends to make gigantic, mental leaps of faith. Off cliffs.
Let's tell Hermione, he'd say in the most ridiculous, optimistically flouncy Harry Potter voice he can muster. She'll understand. She's very understanding and clever and beautiful and wonderful and Gryffindor.
Urgh. Why he had to go and fall in love with Boy Wonder is well beyond his comprehension. And then, even worse, he feels it when he's near her, too. This thud, thud, thud in his chest that reminds him that he's not quite as heartless as he's always meant to be. With Harry, he's alive but with Hermione, he feels. It's the most annoying load of bullshit Draco's ever known.
But he doesn't want to live without it. He's well acquainted with knowing grandeur and riches; no man wants to give them up once they have a taste. The same can be said for Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.
Of course, all of this came out of nowhere. All he'd done to earn these two in his life was quite literally walk into a bar intent on drinking himself into the most deplorable stupor imaginable. And a year later, he's rewarded with a gorgeous auror for a boyfriend and a pending, soon-to-be relationship with Goodie Two Shoes Granger. His luck is amazing.
"Draco?" Harry glances into the room. "Figured I'd find you here."
Draco's sitting by the fireplace in the den, a glass of whisky in one hand and a book in the other. He doesn't even look up as Potter enters the room with one of his big smiles and his knowing, sparkling eyes. Draco raises an eyebrow as he watches him cross the room and sit in the seat across from him. Neither of them break the silence and so Draco pretends to read his book.
No need to let Harry know just how much of Draco's attention he actually has at any given moment.
Without even lifting his gaze, Draco can feel Harry's antsy energy. He can hear the way his hands drag across his trousers and the soft squeak of his boot on the ground as his leg bounces. It's almost cruel that he allows Harry to sweat it out, but Draco is nothing if not patient. He'll wait a century before he gives Harry an easy-in to the conversation he knows is coming.
Finally, Harry breathes loudly and it's the most adorably annoyed sound Draco's ever heard. So impatient and such a Gryffindor move that Draco almost rolls his eyes.
"I wasn't the one walking around the house in a shirt that doesn't belong to him."
It's not exactly what Draco's expecting. The words immediately pull Draco's eyes from the book and they pin Harry to the spot. He's waiting for more.
Harry pushes his hair off his forehead and then shakes his head. His lips aren't turned down anymore and instead carry a smirk that seems to hold a private joke. Draco lifts a brow.
"She's… mostly on board," he says finally, losing most of his confidence the more he speaks. "She thinks I'm cheating on you with her and I couldn't… I'm not, am I?"
Draco sets his book down gently on the table beside him, careful not to let the page he'd been reading get lost. He sips from his tumbler and sets the glass down next to the book, and then he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. He considers the man in front of him, the way he genuinely worries about his feelings and actually cares if they survive what they're planning. Draco can't imagine losing Harry, not after everything and not when his magic feels so powerful inside him whenever they're close.
But Granger presents an unknown variable. He doesn't like not knowing almost as much as he hates swallowing all of his former beliefs and seeing a constant reminder of them in his bed every single day.
He steeples his fingers and rests his chin on top. Harry's still fidgety and Draco lets him stew for another moment.
"The point of polyamory is precisely so that you're not cheating on me with Granger." He watches Harry's neck constrict around a swallow and then quirks his lips. "Do you feel guilty, Potter?"
"After everything?" Harry shakes his head. "No. I know what we are to each other. And I know that I'll have to face the same when…"
Harry trails off and Draco follows his eyes as they roam the room. It's something he notices Potter does when he's searching for words, almost as if his surroundings can provide him the correct things to say. So different from Draco's direct approach, and he finds it fascinating. To have moments where you're not ready with a response, to be so ill prepared for any eventuality, it's not a luxury Draco has ever been afforded.
"You don't say much about her," Harry finally decides on and Draco can tell he's trying to be delicate.
"Does it matter what I have to say about her?" He's edging closer to Harry and is perched precariously on the chair. "You've loved her for ages, haven't you?"
The blush that spreads across Harry's cheeks warms even Draco's heart. Harry nods one short, single jut of his chin.
"In one way or another, since first year." Harry stands, like it's a matter of highest urgency, and he approaches Draco with the softest of expressions. "But that doesn't mean that we have to, I mean, she'll always be my best friend regardless."
"It would always be less than." Draco stares up at Harry. He can see the war behind his wizard's eyes and he wants to stop it, but he knows that the only person who can do that is… her. "You need her. Without her, you're missing an essential part of your magic."
"But you-"
Draco stands and he takes Harry's hand in his. Their fingers twine together. "I… am working on it. I put out the advert, didn't I?"
"A ten thousand galleon signing bonus?" Harry's eyebrows are high on his head. "We said two thousand."
"She wasn't going to work for me, of all people, for two thousand galleons. That's ridiculous. I wouldn't have even thought she'd go for ten, but it would have looked suspicious if I would have offered fourteen thousand."
Harry's thumb is caressing the back of his hand and every nerve in his body is alive. Merlin, if he'd known about magical influence years ago, maybe his life would have turned out so differently. Or, not, because there was still a murderous sociopath trying to take over Britain and his father's stringent requirements for the Malfoy family. He never stood a chance. But, at least he would have had something to look forward to.
Harry opens his mouth to argue, but Draco cuts him off.
"It worked. She's out of the Ministry, away from Weasley, she's independent, she's happy here. That's what you wanted, right?"
"Yeah." Harry bites his lip and glances down at their hands. "She's going to be furious when she finds out what we've done."
"Undoubtedly," Draco agrees and then tips Harry's chin up so that their eyes meet. "So you better make it worth it to her, Potter. If we've gone through all of this, it better be fucking worth it."
Harry didn't stay over as he's wont to do these days. The kids have been asking questions and they're not ready to hear the truth yet, not until everything is cemented with Granger. Draco runs a hand through his hair, trying to tidy it into a professional style, as he stares himself down in the mirror. Granger. No fucking way is she going to fall in love with him quickly. Potter's too much of an idealist. Quite honestly he's amazed they didn't set fire to each other in the kitchen this weekend.
When she arrives with her children, he says a quick goodbye and then he's gone. He doesn't want to stay and end up in a long conversation about his relationship with Harry and, Merlin forbid, if he's mad about their kiss. She's Granger, she'll want to talk it to death. She's already kept Harry for hours over the weekend to simply talk about it. It's bad enough he's had to go through the play-by-play with Harry, too.
Dwelling on the titles and definitions isn't going to do anything except frustrate them. And Granger's one for policies and procedures; not a spontaneous bone in her body. It's part of what took them so long to create the atmosphere for Harry to make his move. At least a month ahead of schedule because Potter, entirely the opposite of Granger, is too spontaneous and doesn't think anything through.
"Morning, Mr. Malfoy!" A brunette with legs for days greets him with a large cup of tea and a smile. "Your father left a howler, your mother left an apology, and Harry Potter sent a request from the Auror's office that's marked urgent."
"Just run into battle with the stunners and don't think twice about who you hit?" Draco smirks around the lip of his cup and winks at his assistant. She follows him to his tidy corner office with the click of her heels.
"Sorry, Draco," she says as she pulls the curtains open and sheds light into the room. "Parvati is the gentle twin. I've been told I'm like a goblin-wrought hammer to the face."
He laughs; this is why he likes Padma, despite what he'll allow her to believe. She's so honest that he thinks her incapable of lying by her very nature and that makes her the best asset he has at Malfoy Consulting.
"Has my father been in the office today?" He holds the howler between his thumb and forefinger and drops it carefully onto his desk. "What tradition of prejudice do you think I've managed to destroy this time?"
Padma shrugs. "We did seal the deal to stop that elf breeder last week. But I swear, our books are so clean, there's no way he can find it."
Draco considers the howler. He knows he can't ignore it, can't set it ablaze, can't direct it to anyone else. There's really only one way forward and so he motions for Padma to close his door. Of course she keeps herself inside the room.
"DRACO, YOU ARE EXPECTED FOR CHRISTMAS DINNER AT THE MANOR AT PRECISELY SIX O'CLOCK OR SALAZAR HELP ME I WILL REMOVE ALL FUNDING FROM YOUR DEPARTMENT."
It burst into shreds of red paper. Draco stares at the space that the howler floated seconds before and tugs at his collar.
"How many times did you decline?" Padma asks, hiding a laugh behind her hand.
"Every Christmas since Astoria and I were married." Draco brushes the torn paper into the bin at the side of his desk. Padma is staring at him like he's mad. "It began innocent enough and then the howlers started. Now it's tradition."
"That's terrible," she's still giggling, despite her tone. "Your poor mum."
"Oh. Mother spends Christmas at my home with Scorpius and I." Draco can't help the little lift of his lips. "She also enjoys the tradition."
"Speaking of, then," Padma hands Draco the parchment from his mother with a small frown. "She sends her apologies that she won't be able to make it to Christmas dinner this year, but that you still might enjoy declining your father's invitation."
"In that case…" Draco pulls out a fresh piece of parchment, dips his quill in the inkwell, and writes a response to his father with Padma standing over his shoulder.
Dear Father,
I'm afraid I'm disinclined to accept your cordial invitation to the manor for Christmas dinner. Mother has provided her full support for Scorpius and I to enjoy our first year alone on Christmas. She advises you to speak with her should you have any questions regarding my departmental funding, as she is in control of the finances by terms of your probation.
With kindest regards,
D.M.
"You're wicked." Padma slaps his on the shoulder and accepts the rolled parchment he hands her a moment later. "What should I tell Harry, then? Something equally witty?"
Draco smiles. "I'll deal with Potter. You work on the Unspeakable budget for Magical Influence. It's our new focus - off books. Thanks, Patil."
She walks out of his office with a precise swagger in her hips and Draco watches every step. Padma's a smart girl, he decides, though far from his mind in the way she wants to be. Still, he's been sans a woman for a very long time and can still enjoy the shapely curves hidden behind just about any fashion choice.
When his door closes with Padma on the other side, Draco stands and turns to his personal floo grate and tosses a handful of soot to the floor. He calls to Harry's home and smiles at the way he answers; disheveled hair, no shirt, barefoot. Undone, that's how he likes Harry best. Harry smiles as Draco's eyes rake over his body and Draco can't help the immediate reaction that's pulled from him. He wants nothing more than to step through the fireplace and really make Harry come undone under his touch.
"Malfoy." Harry juts his chin and crosses his arms over his chest. "What do you want now?"
Draco sighs. Sure, they hadn't left each other on the best note. Harry's still upset at the direct way Draco wants to approach the Granger situation and Draco is annoyed by Harry's idealistic expectations. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor can work – they're proof of it – but, this particular Gryffindor Princess is not exactly an easy sell where unconventional lifestyles are concerned. Hell, it'd taken them ages to even get her to realize how terrible her marriage was.
"Could you please just stop with the attitude, Potter?" Draco rolls his eyes. "Mother confirmed she'll be at Andromeda's for Christmas. Father's furious. Dinner at mine on Christmas Day, uninterrupted and with the children?"
Harry finally smiles, just a little thing that curls the corner of his lips. Draco likes this Harry, too. "Brilliant, yeah. Ginny has a match, so me and the boys will be there – a sleepover, perhaps?"
"Done." Draco nods. "Any idea what Granger is up to? Does she have Rose and Hugo or will they all travel to the Burrow as usual?"
Harry shakes his head. "I'm not sure, actually. Ron's been… worse than normal."
Draco knows. He remembers the dull brown of her eyes when she came over to cook dinner with him. The way that her voice struggled to find purchase at first. It warmed him to her, the way she seemed to perk up when he flirted with her, the way her eyes began to sparkle again. He likes that, too. It's what makes him think this can work if they do it right.
"Ever thought of just hexing the bastard, Harry?" Draco doesn't like Weasley, never has. He's suggested worse than hexing in the past. Harry, however, still holds firm that somewhere deep down, Ron is still a good friend, a best mate. Draco disagrees, has done since the beginning.
"Draco…" he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. If he's trying to make it tidy, Draco thinks he'll always fail. The ends still stick up all over the place. "It's not my place. Hermione needs to stand up for herself. She's not weak."
The way he says it, like a firm, final point. Draco wants to argue but the hardness in Harry's eyes stops him. He doesn't want to fight over it, not like they've done before. So, he ducks his chin, allows Harry to win this round, and changes the subject.
"Right. Dinner tomorrow night, half six, don't be late." He considers Harry's pale face in the fire. "Ask her to drinks on Christmas Eve. Take her to our pub."
All he receives in return is Harry's stupid, winning smile and then the floo is cut off. Draco sits back down in his chair and folds his hands together on top of his desk. He believes the entire situation is one that could have been avoided had they just been honest with Granger at the beginning. The web of lies is so thick now, Draco's not even sure how Harry's going to dig himself out of the hole once she realizes everything they've done. He's mad sometimes, because he already has such a deficit in his relationship with Granger, and it'll take far less for Harry to earn her forgiveness.
The best he can do is keep building their friendship. It's all he has while Harry warms her to the idea of the life they want to have together.
"Patil," Draco hits a buzzer on his office com. A little inspired piece of magic that Padma suggested. Genius. "When you go to the Ministry today, grab History of Magical Influence, will you?"
His com buzzes as he reaches for a quill. "Is it necessary for the budget? Because I'm sort of in the middle of a crisis of maths, Mister Malfoy."
Draco chuckles at the com and can sort of hear his laughter outside of his office door. "A crisis of maths will never stand a chance against you, Padma. I need the book today."
"Aye, aye, boss," she answers.
When Draco tries to hit the com again to say thank you, he notices that there's blue light from a spell hovering over the little button and full out laughs. Of course she's also developed a way to keep him from bothering her when she's involved in a project. Cheeky Ravenclaw witch. He hired her for a reason and sometimes it's to his own detriment. Definitely the right choice.
Later that evening, with History of Magical Influence tucked under his arm, Draco is back at home and silently watching the way that Hermione spends time with the children. He likes to watch her softness with them, so opposite of his own mannerisms. He believes children need firm boundaries, but she seems to want the children to push past them. It's fascinating how much their personalities go into their parenting styles. Even Harry is somewhere in between their two extremes, somehow managing to balance his two boys between respectable young gentleman and absolute heathens.
He leans against the door frame with his ankles crossed, mesmerized. Scorpius is pushed right against her shoulder, Rose is across from her, and Hugo is next to Scorpius. They're using color quills to create some type of drawing. He can't really tell exactly what it is, but he's sure he's never seen anything like it before. He smiles as he clears his throat.
"Sorry I'm late," he announces to the room. Scorpius' reaction is immediate and Draco's heart swells as his little boy runs to him with open arms. Draco ruffles the platinum hair on top of his son's head and smiles at Hermione, who turns her head to see him.
She's lying on the ground, pushed up on her elbows and her chin rests on her shoulder as she looks him over. He can tell she's nervous, chewing on her lip and a delicate pink stain on the tip of her cheek bones.
"How was it today?" Draco leads Scorpius back to the others and sits on his settee. Granger pushes herself up from the floor and sits cross legged with her eyes on his.
"We had fun," she says after several quiet seconds. He really wants to know what's going on inside of her head, but she's so closed off. Timid, almost. "I bought some magical coloring quills from one of the mail-away shops in Kent. The children have been creating moving artwork most of the afternoon."
She holds up a picture with what appears to be a stick-figure dragon and ferocious fire billowing out of its snout. He's never seen anything like it. He takes the paper from her and stares at its moving elements. A dragon trainer walks onto the paper and holds a sword out at the dragon.
"What… is this?" He quirks an eyebrow, fascinated at the magic. "It's like a photograph, but drawn by… Scorpius?"
"Oh yes," she finally smiles and she gestures to the children. "They've been recreating some of my stories and drawing the most fantastic depictions. Aren't they brilliant, Draco?"
The look on her face is like she wants him to understand something, something that seems to be going right over his head. His eyes are wide as he takes in this new, strange facet of magical photographs, and then finds her eyes again. He shakes his head, just a little bit, saying 'I don't know what you're asking of me here' without actually speaking.
She speaks slowly, as if it's obvious and he's too thick to catch on. It takes all of his willpower not to say something extremely smarmy.
"I said… isn't the artwork that your son has worked on all afternoon incredible?" Her eyebrows are so high and arched over her eyes and her head moves just a tiny bit forward as if that's going to –
Oh! It hits him, what she's trying to say, and he turns to Scorpius with a still sort of confused, but wide smile on his face. He jumps up and looks to Scorpius. "Scorpius! It's brilliant, mate. Excellent, yes. Miss Hermione is right, you've done a terrific job capturing the moment."
He can see Hermione's smile out of the corner of his eye and it does something to his insides. Creates a warm, fuzzy feeling that envelopes him so fully. He likes it and just like the last few times he's been in her company, he finds that he doesn't want to let the feeling go.
Scorpius is proud of himself, large grin as he rips the paper from Draco's hands and runs out of the room. Rose and Hugo follow, both carrying their own drawings with them as well. He'll never get over how well they get along. As if they'd been friends for their entire lives already.
"You've never colored with magical quills?" Hermione asks him after she watches the kids turn a corner and leave the room. "Never?"
Draco shakes his head. His hair falls over one eye and he pushes it back to no avail. He loosens his tie as it's feeling particularly tight around his neck. "My parents weren't very encouraging of activities that don't enhance the, er… elite lifestyle."
He tries to be delicate when he talks of his upbringing. It's privileged, he knows, and the things he was forced to take part in were so expensive and so ingrained in the childhoods of the elite Sacred Twenty Eight, that he feels like a gigantic twat bringing it up.
"That's incredibly sad," she says and it's the last thing he expects to hear from her. His eyes are stuck on hers and she lifts her lips at his shocked expression. "You may have gotten to learn to play the piano and how to waltz, but you've never colored? Draco, that's tantamount to child abuse."
The little smile on her lips teases him and he can't help but let a relieved chuckle fall from his lips. "You'll have to show me the intricacies of coloring one day then, Granger. Perhaps I'll pay you for lessons."
She laughs and he finds that the sound is something he wants to hear forever. It's strange, how long he's gone without her as part of his life, but how much he realizes he misses her being part of it. Is it possible to miss someone that hasn't ever really been in your life before? He knows for certain that the answer is yes.
"Granger, do you want to stay for dinner tonight?" The request is out of him before he can stop it and he ignores the faint roil of impending rejection in his stomach. He's doing this for Harry, he tells himself, but he knows that it's not the complete truth. He's come to like this witch.
Hermione considers him for a moment, her eyes darting between his. She glances around and he wonders what she expects to see.
"Just you and I and the kids?" She bites her lip and he wants to pull it from between her teeth with his thumb, just like he does to Harry. "Just… us?"
A soft smile planted on his face, Draco nods. "Just us and the children. What do you say?"
"Okay." Her voice is gentle as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and lowers her lashes.
Merlin, has she always been this coy and pretty? Surely he'd have noticed it before. He stands, trying to ignore the feelings that are coalescing inside of him. He's starting to understand Harry a little better now. How there's room for two and what it means to want the things that Harry is asking for. Draco holds out a hand to Hermione to help her off the ground and as soon as they touch, he's done for.
"I brought you a gift." He swallows around a dry patch in his throat as his magic thrums inside of him. If his heart beats any harder, he'll need to be resuscitated. "Harry tells me that you know of the breakthrough we've had with magical influence?"
She takes the book that he offers her. She's voracious about it, opening it immediately and skimming through pages. He almost laughs, because of course this is how Hermione Granger accepts books.
"I do, yes," she mumbles between mouthing words of the table of contents. "Speaking of, Draco, I'm sorry but I need to know…"
God, there's her lip between her teeth again and his knees are weak with the desire to pluck it free. He juts his chin out and breathes sharply to try and gain control of his thoughts.
"Harry and I…" She's redder now and her eyes fall onto the book in her hands. He watches the pretty blush on her face and the way her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks. "That doesn't bother you?"
Draco glances to where the kids ran off to and then back to Hermione. He steps closer to her leaving only a small space there. He's taller than her by nearly a full head and when his eyes meet hers, something in his chest growls. Like he'll protect her from everything in the entire world if she'll allow it. He feels mighty next to her, and the pulse of magic between them promises power and strength and it's nothing he's ever quite known before. It's everything that's ever been missing from him and he didn't even know it until he knew it.
"He told you about our relationship and about our magical influence?" His voice is quiet so that she leans forward to hear him, putting them closer still. He feels dizzy in the most delightful way.
She nods and he doesn't like it when her gaze drops from his and meets their feet. He uses his finger to tip her chin up, forcing her to look at him.
"Do you imagine that this open relationship we have only works one way?" A small smile lifts his lips, conspiratorial in nature as his finger drops from her chin and he pins her with his stare.
The gasp from her lips hits him right in the gut and it's glorious. Draco likes that he's taken her by surprise.
"But I –" Her gaze drops for only a solitary beat of a second and then it's back in his, like she's drawn to it and can't look away. "I can't believe that you're both okay with this."
"Polyamory isn't quite so taboo in the wizarding world, Granger." It's barely a whisper, so delicate the way that he eased her into the idea. "It's not exclusive to wizards, either. Witches, many before you, have taken to multiple wizards."
She's absolutely radiant with blush and he drinks it in, lets it wash over him. He'll never tire of seeing that stain on her cheeks or the little breaths of air that fall from her lips while she considers exactly what he's trying to tell her.
"It's all in this book." He taps the cover, just shy of where her fingers are digging into it. "Magical influence has never been studied by the Unspeakables before, but that doesn't mean it didn't exist before now. I think you'll be surprised by what you find."
A heavy breath warms his neck. He almost closes his eyes to catalogue the sensation but doesn't want to miss a moment of this.
"So, you don't care that Harry kissed me?"
"No."
"And Harry doesn't care if you kiss… someone else?"
He can feel the precipice that they're on and he's enjoying the way the world tilts as she figures it out. Like gravity is pulling her to him and he's staying just out of reach until she's ready. Don't push her too quickly, let her understand on her own, let her own the decision that comes next because it would massacre him if she regrets it later.
"Harry doesn't care if I kiss you."
He refuses to take his eyes from her now. Their gazes are tangled, intense, unrelenting. He can feel the heat pouring off her and it's causing the most delicious feeling inside of him, a mighty strum pounding up and down his nerves.
The silence between them drags on. In the distance, he can hear Hugo giggling and Rose telling both boys off, but he doesn't let it take his focus off of the witch in front of him. He refuses to say anything now, the quaffle belongs to her, it's her move. He's merely watching every small action she takes; deep breath, flared nostrils, wetting her lips, jutted hip, fingers curling further into the cover of the book, feet shuffling. Merlin, she has so many tells and loves how expressive she is without meaning to be.
"I…" she takes a step back and hugs the book close to her chest. "I'm not going to kiss you."
It's decisive. It's final. He doesn't want to argue but a pang of disappointment douses all of the frantic pulses that were running amok inside him only seconds ago. He nods his head, a small gesture, but will respect her decision.
"Will you still stay for dinner?" Draco does his best to keep his tone neutral and his expression guarded. He doesn't want her to see how it affects him, the way she so easily turns him down.
"Of course," she says through a husky laugh. "Did you think I'd want to run away just because you want to kiss me? It takes a lot more than that to scare me away."
"Indeed." He can't stop the smirk that curls his lip. "That's good information to have in my back pocket, Granger."
