Notes: Oh, things are getting exciting. :3 This chapter is a little short, but there's a lot going on in it so there's that.
Chapter 12: The Best Day Ever
The following morning, Draco was finally released from St. Mungo's with strict instructions not to do anything strenuous. Which, according to Weasley – the absolute twat, included shagging Harry. Draco had just rolled his eyes, but Harry had gone about ten shades of pink and disappeared for a good hour. To be fair, listening to Hermione ream Ron out like there was no tomorrow had been more than a little amusing.
Draco decided he'd had enough of sitting around feeling sorry for himself, and apparated to Hogsmeade. He had plans to pay a certain ex-transfiguration professor a visit. It was the last week of August, and the term would start soon at Hogwarts, so he had no reason to doubt that Headmistress Minerva McGonagle would there making sure everything was in order. He needed to get his application in to Loxley Hollow before the 25th in order to (hopefully) be accepted before their classes started, or he would have to wait until the next year. To do that, he still needed that bloody letter of recommendation.
He found McGonagle easily enough, sitting in the great hall with Hagrid, Poppy Pomfrey, and professor Neville Longbottom. They were talking about scheduling deadlines, and picking a new head of house for Gryffindor, following the retirement of yet another Defense the Dark Arts teacher. Some things never change, Draco thought to himself and took a seat beside Hagrid. It was still sort of surreal, the fact that people like Hagrid and Ollivander tolerated his presence. Even Longbottom had been civil with him when he needed advice on a past Auror case.
"Mornin' Malfoy," Hagrid said and patted him on the shoulder – the bad one, of course. Draco only just managed not to curse him, verbally and otherwise. His arm was in a sling for fuck's sake. Was he blind? "Good ter see yeh up and about. Harry told me what happened at yer manor."
"Suffice to say, we have some remodeling to do," Draco replied, rubbing his sore shoulder.
"I thought nocturnoxes were just a tall tale," Neville said, stirring his coffee. "It's all anyone's talking about. Did you see the Prophet this morning, by the way?"
Draco shook his head, dread welling up inside him.
"Look, here," Neville told him, pointing to a spot near the end of the front page article about the cleanup of the theater where it had killed ten muggles.
Draco sighed and read it aloud. "'The ministry personally thanks Aurors Potter and Malfoy' – what? ...'Without their dedication to this case, it would not have been solved so quickly and many more would have perished'." He stared at it in disbelief. The Prophet said something positive about Draco fucking Malfoy, without a single mention of his past, or his father. He laid it down on the table and stared at in silence. What were they on about? He hadn't even done anything – aside from get his arse handed to him by it.
"So, I can't imagine you are here to read the news over breakfast with us, Mister Malfoy," Minerva said pointedly. She looked good, Draco thought. She was getting up there in years, but she seemed full of energy and still had her distinctive poise and mannerisms that often reminded him of his mother.
"That's true. I am... Thinking of a career change. I'm not a very good Auror, as it were," Draco explained, and pulled out the paperwork for Loxley Academy that he'd stuffed in his back pocket. "I am applying to study healing at Loxley Academy, but I need a letter of recommendation to be accepted. I was hoping you might assist me with that, Headmistress."
"You'll need more than that to get accepted there, Malfoy. They are very picky with what students they choose to teach," Poppy said, motioning for him to show her his application. He handed it over without replying. "It took me three years to get accepted before I studied there."
"Healing, huh? What made you pick that?" Neville asked while she read over his application. "And is it true that Harry's quitting being an Auror, too?"
"Honestly, Hermione's been badgering me to do it. It doesn't seem like a bad plan," Draco replied. "And yes, he's tired of being a hero, I imagine."
"I'm impressed," Poppy said, and laid his papers on the table in front of her. "You have a relatively solid understanding of the principals of the magic involved, and basic anatomy – going by your answers to the questionnaire. You've studied some of this on your own, then?"
"Not exactly," Draco admitted. "Snape taught me some basic healing spells in the sixth year because of, well, what I got myself dragged into back then. Most of it's actually based on what I've learned reading some muggle medical text books. And, of course, I was always good with potions."
"That's not a bad thing. Muggles have made some very impressive strides in the medical field in recent years, and being able to compare the two will give you another perspective to work with when you're confronted with something unusual," Poppy told him and neatly stored his application back in the envelope. "You should do it, Minerva. By the looks of his application, he has a good foundation to start with. Actually, you and Neville can both sign it. He needs all the help he can get."
For the first time in years, Draco felt like he was doing something right. With the recommendation letter and proof of his NEWT scores in hand, he headed straight the owlry to send the application in with one of the Hogwarts owls. Afterward, he headed home to the manor to rest. He was healing well, but he still didn't have much energy. There was still one thing on his mind, though – If the man the Aurors had caught truly had summoned the nocturnox, why did he try to dispose of the statue? And why had it wound up in a pawn shop that it kept finding its way back to? That and, well, he was bloody pissed he was too busy being nearly dead to help find the wanker. He'd have liked to have cursed his unmentionables off. Either way, Draco was sure they hadn't seen the last of the whole fiasco just yet.
Harry was avoiding him. Draco was fairly certain of that, and the fact that he would come around when he was good and ready. So, he didn't mind sitting alone in the kitchen at Grimmauld place with only Princess for company. He hadn't seen Darkfoot since waking up in St. Mungo's, but he assumed the Grim only would only come around when he was in danger, or if it was called.
"I still think you're a pretentious little twat," Draco drawled, making a face at Princess who was sitting in the chair opposite him. Only her beady yellow eyes and the tips of her ears peeked over the edge of the table. "Mostly because you get to sleep with Harry and I don't."
She mewled balefully and turned her back to him. Business as usual, then. At least he could make light of his awkward tangle of feelings for Harry with no one listening but an obnoxious kneazle. God forbid if Harry had heard that. Draco would kill himself. He took a sip of tea and skimmed over the Prophet. There wasn't anything particularly noteworthy – just some nonsense about Hogwarts' new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher: Blaise Zabini. Draco choked on his tea and nearly fell out of his chair. Blaise? Really? Did McGonagle know that he couldn't duel his way out of a wet paper bag? Draco groaned and tossed the paper away. He wasn't sure if he hoped Blaise would survive more than a year, or that he'd be the next in line to either die or be driven mad. Even after they'd left Hogwarts, no one lasted more than one term teaching that subject. It had to be cursed.
Draco stretched and yawned. It was still early, and he was bored of hanging around the manor. His mother had already repaired most of the damage from the attack, anyway. He hoped he'd get an owl from Loxley some time soon. He'd never have time to get all his school supplies before the term started if it took any longer. More than once he'd caught himself looking out windows in hopes of seeing an owl waiting for him. At least he was mostly healed and didn't have to keep his arm in a sling anymore. It still hurt like a bitch if he wasn't careful about how he moved, or if he slept in an awkward position.
"Come on, he can't work all night and all day," Draco complained to Princess' backside. "He has to come home sometime. What is he even doing? Shoveling out the crup kennels with a teaspoon?"
Harry had officially purchased the deed to Magical Menagerie the day that Draco had been released from St. Mungo's. The store was closed for the time being, while Harry sorted out the finances and helped the previous owner pack what she was taking with her. They hadn't talked much since, and Draco decided he was tired of being ignored. Just as Draco was considering apparating to Diagon Alley to harass him, there was a light tapping at the kitchen window. He opened it wandlessly with a careless flick of his fingers. A huge snowy owl swooped inside and dropped a mint-green colored envelope on the table in front of Draco. It fluttered its wings and perched itself on the back of Princess' chair. She hissed at it, and was rewarded with a stern glare and a soft hoot. Draco wasn't entirely sure what kind of conversation they were having, and didn't want to know. He picked up the envelope, expecting it to be Harry's mail, only to momentarily forget how to breathe when he saw that it was addressed to him from Loxley Hollow. He tore off the familiar forest green wax seal with an ivy leaf on it with shaking hands.
Mister Malfoy,
I have reviewed your application, and it is my great pleasure to inform you that you have been accepted into Loxley Hollow Academy of Healing Arts. Normally there is a secondary interview process before prospective students are officially accepted, however the new term begins on September 5th. In light of this I have decided to make an exception in your case in order to give you time to acquire your uniform and all necessary supplies. You will, however, be required to maintain an E average or above for all of your classes for the first two semesters of this term in lieu of the interview and entry exam.
Please return the second page of this packet with your signature and the date, as proof your intention to attend, and your acceptance of these terms. A list of all required items and texts is included in this letter. You will receive your course schedule and all other assignments on the first day of the new term. Best of luck to you!
Yours Truly,
Healer Sean Lee Martin
Headmaster, Loxley Hollow Academy of Healing Arts
Draco almost tripped over his chair in his haste to rifle through the drawer where he knew Harry kept random odds and ends in search of a quill. The owl waited rather patiently, he thought. He found a bent, ruffled up raven feather quill and a half dried up bottle of green ink. Hastily, he signed the form and stuffed it in a new envelope addressed to Headmaster Martin.
"Thank you for bearing with me," He said to the owl who took the letter in its beak and disappeared through the window. He wasted no time finding the list of supplies, and groaned aloud when he saw it. Most of it he could find in Diagon Alley, but he'd have to make a whole day of it, and some of it he'd have to go to the apothecary in Hogsmeade for. ...Unless he could harass a certain savior of the wizarding world into helping him.
He pocketed the list and apparated to Diagon alley without a second thought.
Draco knocked on the locked door of Magical Menagerie and tapped his foot on the ground impatiently while he waited. Eventually, Harry showed up and opened the door. He looked dead tired, and like he'd worn the same clothes for the past three days.
"You look like shit," Draco commented.
"You look... Happy?" Harry said, raising his eyebrows.
Draco shoved the letter from Loxley's headmaster into his hands and gave him a positively shit eating grin. "I was hoping you might help me go shopping."
When Harry didn't reply as he read over the revoltingly long list of supplies, Draco decided to take a (somewhat) calculated risk. He shut the door of the shop behind him and nearly tackled Harry in a fierce hug. He made a strangled sound like a crup being trodden on and lost his footing, which caused them both to fall against the counter with a soft thud.
"Ugh. That hurt," Draco whinged, dropping his head to Harry's shoulder.
"Of course it did, idiot." Harry shoved him upright, but not away from him, very much to Draco's surprise. "So, uh, what the hell was that about?" He added, extricating himself from Draco's arms.
"Because I'm happy! ...I think. And it's because of you, and Hermione, but none of it would have been possible without you," Draco replied, taking a look around the shop. A pair of tawny kneazles glared at him from their perch on a shelf nearby. A blonde crup was fast asleep in a tatty old chair. A bunch kittens played in a pen, and there was a huge tank full of frogs on the counter beside them. The place needed some cleaning up, that was for sure, but Draco could see why Harry wanted it – it was as chaotic as he was.
"Good, now learn how to cast a damn patronus charm," Harry teased and straightened Draco's shirt collar that had gotten messed up when he tackled him.
"You know, I think I might be able to now," Draco replied and pulled out his wand.
He thought of them laughing together over those stupid Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, the chocolate frog card with Harry's photo on it that he kept tucked in his pocket, and the way his heart felt like it might burst when he read the letter from Loxley Hollow.
"Expecto Patronum!" It wasn't a weak silvery mist this time, but a fully corporeal being. It was not, however, at all what he expected. "A... Skunk?"
Harry nearly fell over laughing. "Yeah, 'cause you stink, Malfoy," He commented, obviously for lack of a better sarcastic reply.
"Shut up, Potter," Draco drawled with a dumb grin on his face. "I actually fucking did it!"
"I know, right?" Harry said, his eyes sparkling. "Wait 'til we tell Hermione!"
"So... Shopping?"
"Can we do it tomorrow? I'm beat."
"Yeah," Draco agreed. "Today's the first; the term doesn't start until the fifth. We've got a little time."
The skunk patronus rubbed itself against Harry's legs, completely unnoticed by him, before it vanished.
"So, are you staying there or...?"
"I don't see why I would, I can apparate there for classes. Besides, I was thinking I would like to stay with you, if you'll let me," Draco replied.
"What about your mother?" Harry asked, leaning on the counter.
"Honestly, I'd rather avoid the manor. In October my father's sentence will over," Draco told him, uncertain of how he really felt about it. "Mother is glad, but I... I think it's time I left that behind. New beginnings and all that drivel. I'm a disgrace to the Malfoy name, after all. And, it's taken some time, but I'm okay with that now."
"If that's what you want, you know you're welcome at my house," Harry told him. "But why not get someplace of your own? I know you can afford it."
"Actually, I'm going to be piss broke after paying for healer training – at least four years of it before I can work in the field outside of an apprenticeship," Draco replied, and took a step closer to Harry so that their noses were almost touching. "Besides, I know you're thick sometimes, but there's no way that you haven't realized that I actually like you by now. You speccy git."
"You... Like me?"
"Yes, Harry." Draco leaned forward a bit, placing his hands on the counter on either side of Harry's hips, effectively trapping him there. Really, could he be any more oblivious? What was he going to have to get the point across? Kiss him? ...Would that be alright, or would Harry run? He really wanted to kiss him, and Draco always got what he wanted one way or another.
"Do you mean...?"
"Fuck it." Draco closed the distance between them with a kiss, tangling his fingers into Harry's ridiculous mop of hair. Harry gasped, but didn't push him away. Draco panicked for a moment, thinking he'd made a mistake, but relief washed over him as Harry placed his hands on his hips and relaxed into the kiss. When they separated from sheer need for air, Draco's head was spinning.
Harry wrapped his arms tightly around Draco's waist and nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck. "That was the best kiss I've ever had," He mumbled. "...Don't tell Ginny that."
"Don't compare me to the Weaselette," Draco breathed and buried his face in Harry's hair.
"...I like you, too." Harry said quietly. "I think I have for a very long time."
Draco was about to reply, but the sound of the bell attached to the shop door ringing interrupted him.
"Harry, I think we have everything we need. Hagrid said the puffskeins like to – Oh!" Hermione gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth. "Should we go?"
"No, it's alright," Draco said in what he hoped was a calm tone and untangled himself from Harry, though he was sure his face was the color of a tomato. Harry just stared at him like a deer caught in headlights. Ron, standing beside Hermione, had a similar expression plastered across his face.
"By the way, I've been accepted into Loxley Hollow."
Hermione squealed, and hugged him so hard he couldn't breathe.
"So much hugging," He whinged, managing to pry her off of him.
"Oh, and he can cast a patronus charm," Harry interjected, grinning like an idiot. "It's a skunk."
"Because I smell, apparently." Draco rolled his eyes.
Ron laughed heartily, and patted one of the kneazles on the head. Draco smiled, and thought he was pretty sure that this was the single best day of his life. I just kissed Harry fucking Potter, he thought to himself, who would have ever seen that coming? ...And no one even hexed me!
Notes: If you're wondering why I chose a skunk for Draco's patronus, it's because it symbolically is almost the total opposite of what he is. From what I understand, a patronus manifests not only based on the wizard's personality, but also as a sign of what they need the most at the time. So, since skunks symbolize a bunch of relevant things: patience, calm, peace, and good judgment - I thought it was a good match. And well, just like nobody really wants to be friends with Draco until they get to know him (instead of judging him by who he appears to be), no one wants to get too close to a skunk, either. TBH, I had a hard time choosing between that and a porcupine. But I wanted to go with something that was more what he is missing than what he is. …Which is also why Harry's is a snake, because it's the perfect representation of everything that Draco is: cunning, confident, charismatic, graceful and supposedly inclined toward healing.
I spent waaaaay too much time reading up on shamanic animal totems and meanings for this fic lmfao. Someone kill me.
