Harry and Ron made the double apparition into Paris in record time, arriving in a strictly wizarding district not all that different from Diagon Alley, so that they needn't worry about being overseen by muggles. From there they entered a public floo and came out of an ornate gilded fireplace in a secret back room at the Louvre, open only to the wizarding public on the last Wednesday of each month. Despite being a little used backroom, most of the beige stone of the walls was covered by intricate molding along the top and ancient tapestries on the walls. The wooden floors were freshly polished and shined everywhere but in the well-traveled path between the door and the fireplace. The room had the feel of the centuries old palace to which it belonged and it had the moist smell of the Seine River, to which it was adjacent.
They expected Draco, Leo, and Hermione to be there waiting for them, but the only ones there were Hermione and an unfamiliar family waiting for them to move out of the way, so that they could use the floo. Harry stepped to the side to allow the family fireplace access. Ron instantly scooped his girlfriend up in a tight embrace, lifting her off of the floor and spinning around with her once. She let out a squeal of surprised delight and then motioned to be set back down, just as the last of the family stepped into the fireplace.
A wizard came hurrying into the room then, headed straight for the fireplace, so the trio quickly moved out of the way, towards a less trafficked corner of the room. It was a good thing too, because before this latest wizard reached the fireplace, the floo roared to life and four giggling young witches came out, one after another. The witches gathered in front of the fireplace, excitement evident in their eager voices as they chatted away in Spanish about where to go first.
"Excuse me! Do you mind?" the wizard in a hurry asked, motioning for the four new arrivals to move out of his way.
The witches moved to the side, but continued their ceaseless chatter, while the impatient wizard exited through the floo. Soon they too left the room, headed into the museum proper. While Harry, Ron, and Hermione were there, the room continued to see a flurry of back and forth traffic, although it never contained more than a dozen people at any one point in time.
Harry figured Draco and Leo were probably out in the hall, captivated by paintings or something. Peeking out the door, he was disappointed to see the tapestry covered walls of back palace corridors, which were not open to the muggle public. Thus if Draco was off lost in the art, the wizard wasn't just out of sight. Unless Draco had a penchant for archaic tapestries Harry didn't know about.
"Where are Draco and Leo?" Harry asked, turning away from the door and back towards his friends, who were just breaking off a quick snog.
"At the hotel. We were here this morning, but they went back for a nap," Hermione answered, slightly out of breath.
"Why?" Harry asked. The whole point of this trip was to expose Draco to a bit of muggle culture, so he had arranged for a limousine for transport at a few specific times. If they had made an extra trip back to the hotel, then they had done it by floo, defeating the purpose. "I thought there was a nursery here for Leo to nap. It's supposed to have an area for breastfeeding too." That was one of the features he'd looked into before deciding on this museum as an appropriate destination; after Hermione suggested it of course. On a normal day, the place would be crawling with muggles and Draco wouldn't be able to use the nursery to nurse their son, but today the place was closed to muggles, so there was no potential for the male breastfeeding to be discovered. Instead it was swarming with witches and wizards, both emerging from and disappearing into the one fireplace connected to the floo.
"There is and we did stop by there for Draco to feed Leo once. We spent more time at the first aid station the next room over though," Hermione revealed.
"First aid? What happened?" Harry asked, adrenaline pumping into his system as he began to imagine the worst.
"Bloody Malfoy. He can't get through one trip into muggle Paris without getting a booboo?" Ron asked exasperated. He'd been looking forward to this double date, because Hermione would be leaving for Hogwarts in less than a week. He wanted to have an enjoyable time with his girlfriend, not deal with Malfoy's melodrama.
"Ronald!" Hermione scolded, before turning to Harry. She kept her voice calm, trying to reassure her friend that there was nothing seriously wrong. "They're fine. Draco had a dizzy spell, is all. He was examined by a healer they have on staff for the day and she said he'd be good as new with a good meal and some rest."
"What happened though?" Harry asked, unsatisfied with the short version of the story.
"Everything was fine until we started walking through the large gallery with the impressionist pieces. We portkeyed to the Parisian Ministry without a hitch, flooed over to the hotel and checked in, and even navigated the limo without a problem. Luckily they sent a driver who knew how to install that carseat, because when I tried, I couldn't figure out how to secure it sufficiently without magic. We were dropped off right out front and walked through this amazing glass pyramid they have for an entry room.
"But then we barely made it into the second gallery when he went up to a painting of blurry flowers. You know how those impressionist paint, don't you? It's more about the feel and the vibrant colors than actually capturing the shape?" Hermione asked as she continued. Harry nodded. Ron didn't know, but nor did he care; he simply motioned with his hands for her to get on with it. "Well he seemed drawn to one. He went straight to it, ignoring the rest of the pieces on the walls, and said something about there being a spell on it. He said he could feel it. He could sense the magic in it somehow. It really is quite amazing how some wizards can sense magic like a sixth sense. Harry, you said Dumbledore could do that, didn't you?" Being able to sense magic was something she had yet to experience and like all things, she wanted to master it.
"Yes, but what happened?" Harry asked, wanting to speed Hermione along. He still didn't know what had caused the dizzy spell and sent Draco to the first aid station. If there was an enchanted painting involved, then it could be serious. It certainly wasn't sounding like a drop of blood from a paper cut had caused it.
"I am getting to that." Hermione took a deep breath, refocusing on the tale, before saying, "He raised his wand and I was telling him that he couldn't use magic in the museum, but before I could stop him, he cast a Finite on the piece. Of course that had the security guards come running in, because their alarms were going off. Like I said, it is forbidden to cast a spell on any of the paintings or works of art."
Ron chuckled and replied, "Only Malfoy would cast a spell on a painting. I suppose he just wanted to bring it to life, like wizarding paintings."
"No Ronald, it was a Finite he cast on it. There was already a spell in place on the painting. The moment he took it off, the flowers started spinning into a rapid tornado of color. It was a bit much and I could see how someone could become dizzy looking at it," Hermione corrected.
"Is that what happened then? The spinning painting made him dizzy?" Harry asked, hoping that was all.
"Mostly. The guards came barging in. One of them put a freezing spell back on the painting, while another started questioning Draco. It was clear then that Draco was disoriented. He said he was fine, just a bit overwhelmed, but the guard and I insisted we stop by the first aid station and have him checked out," Hermione continued.
"Good, I'm glad you did. Did they find out what's wrong?" Harry asked overprotectively.
"Yes. Like I said, there was nothing serious, but a number of little things add up," Hermione began. "First off, there is the fact that he is nursing. Breastfeeding a baby puts strain on any woman's body. With a man, there is even more strain, because their bodies are not designed for it; less fat deposits to draw on and he's on the slender side as it is. Switching time zones and changing eating schedules does not help. To top things off, Dromeda doesn't have a house elf and he has absolutely no idea how to get food into his mouth without one! Purebloods, I swear, they would starve to death without their elves." The passion rose in her voice as she began talking about elves and it was clear she was close to going on another SPEW rant.
"But he has his own elf, doesn't he? Harry, you said he brought an elf with him to help with the baby," Ron said, trying to divert Hermione's attention away from SPEW.
"He does, but she only helps with Leo. She doesn't cook," Harry clarified to Ron, before looking again to Hermione. "But what does that matter? Surely Dromeda fed him this morning and I know she fed him last night."
"She did, but he couldn't sleep last night, so he was up for hours without a meal. All he had was water during the night. Between the portkey, the activity of checking into the hotel, not being able to cast an Aguamenti in the limo with the muggle driver potentially watching, and walking through the museum carrying a baby, he became a touch dehydrated. They forced liquids on him, made him eat an extra meal, and told him to take a nap and he'd be fine. His vitals were already looking loads better when we went back to the hotel," Hermione explained. "You really need to teach him how to fetch a snack on his own, Harry. It's the least he needs to know how to do. And limousines come with complimentary beverages; all he had to do was ask the driver for one, but he didn't even know it!"
"Alright, we'll work on it. There is a lot he needs to learn about how to survive in the muggle world," Harry agreed.
"Wait, what happened with the painting? Why is a spinning wizard painting of flowers under a freezing charm in a muggle museum?" Ron asked curiously, clearly more interested in that part of the story than he was in Draco.
"The guard explained that to us at the first aid station while Draco was eating. It was painted by a muggle ages ago. Shortly after, a wizard came into the gallery where it was for sell and thought that it was simply out of focus. He brought the painting to life, to see if that would help clear it up. But the muggle had been high on some muggle drug when he painted it. It wasn't just the flowers that he painted, but the drug-induced trip. That is why the flowers are out of focus and why the painting spins when it is brought to life. Not wanting to buy a spinning tornado of color, the wizard cast a freezing charm on it and walked away. The muggle painter later became famous and the painting was donated to the Louvre. It's been in the impressionist collection for years and wizards do regularly recognize that it is under a freezing charm and unfreeze it. Apparently it's not a big deal to recast the freezing charm and set it to right, but they still do not want us casting spells on the paintings," Hermione explained.
"Makes sense. How long do you suppose it will be before Draco wakes up?" Harry asked, turning the subject back in the direction he was most interested in.
"I'm not sure. It could be another hour or more," Hermione answered.
"I don't know about you Harry, but I'd prefer not to stand around here all day waiting for Sleeping Beauty to wake from his nap. What is the plan Hermione? Can we start the museum without him?" Ron asked impatiently. He'd spent a good part of his summer with Hermione, becoming indoctrinated into muggle culture. Disney movies were on the list of things she and her parents had shown him.
"Oh yes; I have been looking at the most wonderful paintings and statues all day. You just have to come see. I have my mobile phone and left instructions on how to use it with the hotel desk. Draco knows to ask them to contact me when he and Leo are ready to return," Hermione explained. She'd gotten the newfangled and highly expensive gadget in order to be able to communicate with her parents. Her phone didn't work most everywhere in the wizarding world, due to interference from all of the magic. Typically her parents ended up leaving her messages, which she would check and return as soon as her signal returned. But the Louvre was a muggle establishment, so it should work here without a problem.
With that, the three friends finally set about exploring the ancient palace turned art museum. There were marble rooms filled with marble statues, gilded rooms with painted ceilings, and corridor after corridor of painting upon painting. They had only explored a small section of the vast complex when Hermione's mobile phone rang, indicating that Draco was ready to return.
Ron and Hermione continued on through the museum, eager for a bit of romantic time on their own; this was their only chance at it, since they were scheduled to babysit Leo this Evening. Harry, on the other hand, journeyed straight back towards the rear room with the fireplace. Draco and Leo beat him there and were waiting outside the door, Leo in Draco's arms.
"Where's the pram?" Harry asked, taking Leo from Draco and placing a kiss on first his boyfriend's cheek and then on top of his son's mop of black hair.
"It was too difficult to bring through the fireplace," Draco explained.
"Do you want me to go back for it?" Harry offered, but Draco shook his head.
"Leo didn't think it was his job to sit still in the thing this morning. It was a hindrance having it with us."
"Alright, where to first?"
"I didn't have a chance to finish looking at the paintings. Although, Napoleon's chambers really are magnificent and if you have not had a look at them yet, we really must start there," Draco answered, taking Harry's free hand and leading them back towards the museum proper. Harry's other arm was wrapped around Leo, holding the curious child face out, so that their son could see.
"I did with Hermione and Ron. They are a bit much, even for a dictator like Napoleon, don't you think?"
"No, not at all. His chambers are not all that different from some of the rooms we have back at the Manor. The Manor is older though."
"Of course it is, Draco. You grew up in a palace like this one then?"
"No, this place has a cold, unused feel to it. The Manor has always been first and foremost a home. It has been continuously inhabited and has a feel of warmth and love that this place in lacking," Draco answered, taking a turn that let them out into another marble room. This one contained a giant marble statue of Cupid reviving his lover, Psyche. "Have you seen this statue? It's a beautiful muggle-made depiction of one of my ancestor's greatest works."
Having reached the fireplace room through a different corridor, Harry had not seen this statue before. It seemed to be of a nude woman lying in the arms of a winged man. It was beautiful and captivating, but he didn't quite know what Draco was referring to. "No, but it's lovely. Your ancestor's greatest work?" he asked, hoping for clarification.
"From Lucius Malfoy the First, on his mother's side. My father is the second Lucius Malfoy, you know."
Harry shook his head, to indicate that he didn't know. Lucius' father had not been named Lucius and no one had ever referred to a previous Lucius before. Harry had no idea who the first Lucius was.
"Well he is. The first Lucius lived in the sixteenth century, back before the International Statute of Secrecy. His mother was of Roman stalk, from the Apuleius family. The oldest known record we have of the Apuleius family was a wizard who wrote a famous story about a wizard name Lucius. This scene with Cupid and his lover comes from that ancient Roman book. Lucius Malfoy the First was named after both the character in the book and after the Roman dictator, Lucius Cornelius Sulla, also known as Nero. My father was named after the first Lucius Malfoy, because my father possessed my paternal grandmother's pale blond hair and Lucius also means light," Draco explained, as they gazed at the statue of the lovers.
"I thought Malfoys were always blond."
"Mostly blond, yes, but this shade of blond is unusually pale. Grandfather Abraxas had golden blond hair, back when he had hair, that is. Leo here isn't the first raven-haired Malfoy. The first Lucius is depicted as more darkly complexioned, but those genes have long been washed out by our family's general tendency to marry fair-skinned towheaded spouses."
"Luckily, you do not seem to suffer from that affliction," Harry teased. Not only was his hair dark, but so was Dane's.
"No, but you do. I certainly hope you have not passed that on to our son; I've always feared grandchildren so pale they are mistaken for vampires," Draco teased back.
Leo started fussing to be put down. There were so many things the baby could crawl to and get into and being stuck in Harry's arms was growing dull.
"Come on, let's go or we will never see all of the paintings I want to before we need to leave," Draco said, once again leading them through the museum.
They passed through many corridors, ignoring a myriad of beautiful artwork, before they reached a gallery of oil paintings.
"I think the Mona Lisa is around here somewhere. Hermione was telling me it was here," Harry said, glancing at paintings he didn't recognize.
"She already showed me, but it's nothing special. Not quite right, that one, but these," here Draco motioned both arms in wide sweeping arcs, indicating all of the paintings surrounding him, "these are masterpieces. It's a shame they were done by muggles and never finished. I should like to bring each and every one of them to life…only the ones in this room though; those blurry ones in the impressionist wing can stay unfinished. Why ever they thought painting while out of their mind on opium was a good idea, is beyond me."
Harry didn't know much about art, nor did he seem to have the appreciation for it that Draco had. He stood back and looked, saying things like, "Oh Leo, look at this one," and pointing for the baby to look.
Sometimes Leo would look, but most of the time the baby would continue his squirming, wanting to be put down. Harry's glasses were the first casualty, knocked to the ground by Leo's elbow as the baby struggled. When Harry summoned his glasses with his wand and put them back on, they caught the light and the gleam caught Leo's attention. Leo then pulled the glasses off, smudging the lenses with little fingers, before trying to eat them.
Draco, on the other hand, stared at one painting for several long minutes, taking in one detail, slanting his head to take in the same detail from another angle. Then he kneeled down and looked up at the same exact spot, as if he were examining the brush work or something. It seemed he was capable of looking at the same painting all day and at that rate, they wouldn't make it out of this gallery before it was time for dinner.
Bored, Harry eventually put Leo on the floor, but kept hold of both tiny little hands. Leo took the hint and pulled himself up onto his expensive Italian leather loafer clad feet, lurching around the gallery while using Harry's hands for support. When the pair of them reached the baby's target, there would be fussing as Leo tried to escape in order to pick something up off of the floor or touch something hanging on the walls. That was when Harry had to improvise and encourage Leo to turn around and walk back the other way through the gallery.
At one point Leo sat on his bum and attempted to pull his shoes off. When Harry stopped him, he left them on, but leaned down and began to gnaw on the leather covering his big toe. Knowing that the shoes were an expensive gift from one of Draco's friends or relatives and that Leo's teeth were sharp, Harry couldn't in good conscience stand back and watch the shoes be chewed up. Harry was tempted though, because he needed the break that allowing Leo to destroy the baby shoes would give him. Ultimately, he plucked Leo up and got the baby walking again.
It was on one of these trips back and forth with Leo that Harry spotted a map of the museum and discovered that they were only a short distance away from something called Jardin des Tuileries, which appeared to be an outdoor garden. He thought Leo might enjoy the outdoors more, but waffled back and forth about leaving Draco alone. This was supposed to be a date and so far they weren't spending too much of it together, thanks to their active son.
Then Harry glanced at his watch and realized that they'd been in the same part of the museum for three quarters of an hour. He looked over to Draco, who was only on the third painting from the entrance and decided that he and Leo didn't need to hang around while Draco studied these paintings all day.
"Erm, Draco, is it alright if I take Leo out into the garden?" Harry asked, coming up behind Draco with Leo. "He's rather restless."
Draco startled at the sound of Harry's voice, having become lost in the art. He shook his head and said, "Yes, alright, that should be fine. But Jardin des Tuileries is rather large, so do me a favor and stay on this side of it. Or, em, be back on this side when it's time for us to go."
"Will do. Thanks," Harry said, leaning in to give Draco a quick peck on the cheek. "You will be staying here the whole time then?" Draco nodded and turned back to the painting he'd been studying. "Come on Leo, let's go explore the garden."
The garden contained a large expanse of lawn in addition to statues, water fountains, hedges, benches, and even some flowers. Leo permitted Harry to carry him for a walk around the perimeter, eager to see what there was to see. After making the full circuit, Harry found an open patch of grass far away from view of the fountains and set Leo down. The baby crawled a few feet away and sat fascinated looking at the blades of grass for a few moments, before grabbing up a fist of them, which went straight to his little mouth.
"Ah no! No you don't, Leo. Father will be very cross with me if you eat the grass," Harry exclaimed as he ran over and forcefully pulled the little hand away from the open mouth. Then he uncurled his son's fingers and brushed the green blades and small clump of dirt out of the tiny palm, before casting a cleansing spell to boot.
Upset that his fun was taken from him, Leo started crying. Harry scooped the baby up, positioning Leo on his shoulder and patting comfortingly. He started bouncing and walking aimlessly as he murmured into the little ear, "Come now baby, you didn't think you could eat it just because Father isn't here, did you? You know he doesn't let you eat plants and he said he just fed you, so you can't be hungry."
Leo calmed down and ceased his crying. Moments later, he reached out his chubby arm in the direction of a little brown bird. "Ugh!" he exclaimed, lunging in the direction he wanted to go.
Harry fumbled as Leo lurched, but caught his son before the baby could fall. "You want to see the birdie, do you?" Harry asked and Leo nodded. "Alright, let's go see."
Unfortunately, the bird flew away before they reached it. They followed after it, turning in whatever random direction the animal went. It was a meandering path that soon led them to an old witch, sitting on a bench with a loaf of stale bread and a flock of pigeons at her feet. There were a few of the little brown birds in the mix, darting after breadcrumbs as the witch threw them. Leo squealed loudly in delight at the sight, smiled widely showing his teeth, and clapped his little hands.
Making a mental note to bring bread with them the next time they go to something as dull as a museum, Harry asked the witch if they could join her. She agreed, but her English was poor and Harry's French was worse, so there was no chance of a conversation. That was fine, because she continued to toss out little bits of bread and the birds continued to dart after them, which pleased Leo immensely.
Leo watched happily for several long minutes, before wanting down, in order to chase the birds. Luckily, the birds were quick and smart enough to stay out of the child's grasp, darting backwards as Leo crawled forwards. The baby would turn towards another group of birds, while the first resettled, landing to peck at the bread crumbs in the grass. Leo thought it was great fun, so that was how they spent the rest of their afternoon.
At five, they met back up with Draco, who was still lost in the oil paintings. When Draco looked up and saw them, his eyes were sparkling and his smile wide. He hadn't gotten through examining all of the oil paintings in this gallery. Given the amount of time he spent looking at each piece, he clearly had a fondness for it.
"You must really like art," Harry commented.
Leo reached out for Draco, babbling happily. Draco reached back and Harry passed the baby over.
"Yes, seeing all of these unfinished paintings in one place is pretty amazing. It's easier to study the technique when they are frozen like this." Draco glanced back to the closest painting and his gaze became stuck, as he took in one more fascinating detail.
"The technique? Do you paint then?"
"I did. I do miss it terribly. Father never much cared for art, but Mother and I have a studio back at the Manor. Looking at all of these makes me yearn to be back there and pick up my paintbrush. So much inspiration! I had to give it up when I became pregnant though; the potions aren't good for unborn babies. Nor are they approved for breastfeeding wizards…" Draco's voice turned from excited to longing.
"What sort of potions? Can't you buy them?"
"I could, but I would still need to use them to prepare the canvas, clean my paintbrushes, and the like. The oil paints themselves are toxic, so even if I had someone helping me there is no way to avoid it," Draco explained.
"There aren't any non-toxic paints?"
"Not this kind, no. I suppose I could switch mediums. There are non-toxic water colors, I believe, and I can always draw, if I had the time. Leo would never give me enough time to work on something like that."
"When he's older, he will. Is that what you want to do? Be an artist or a painter?" Harry asked curiously.
"Maybe. I do love it, but my father doesn't think it's a worthy occupation for a Malfoy. You heard him, he'd rather I go into politics."
"I don't care what your father says. If you're any good and you like doing it, you should paint. I'd like to see some of your artwork sometime. Is it all at the Manor?" Harry was thinking that that would be a good date, once the Manor was returned and the Aurors cleared out.
Draco nodded. "I have a few pieces I'm proud of."
"What of?" Harry asked curiously.
"Landscapes, mostly. My mother does beautiful portraits. When the Aurors give the Manor back, there is one she did of Leo and me I'd like to show you."
"I'd like to see that. I suppose you have it hanging up like these are, in gilded frames in grandiose rooms?"
"Not that one, no. That one is in my bedroom. Some of the others are hanging up on display around the house; both mine and my mother's; pieces that are worthy of hanging on walls like these. The muggles have excellent painters; it is such a shame they don't know how to do the final step and bring these masterpieces to life. I wonder what these portraits will have to say if ever they are woken. It's been centuries since some of them were painted," Draco said, snuggling Leo to his chest and rubbing a cheek against his son's mop of black hair.
"I doubt any of them will ever be woken. Come now, we have a limo to meet," Harry urged.
Draco nodded and the three of them headed towards the front entrance. "Thank you for bringing me here and for watching Leo. I enjoyed it."
"I'm glad. Leo liked the birds, but let's not bring him back to a museum for a long time," Harry replied. After being on baby detail for two hours, he was exhausted and certainly ready to go and never come back. Maybe when Leo and Teddy were older, very much older, they could come back and appreciate the art. But taking a baby to the Louvre in Paris was not one of Harry's better ideas as far as he was concerned. The only thing that made the day worth it was seeing how much Draco enjoyed it.
"Maybe next time we can arrange a sitter and leave him back in Britain," Draco agreed.
They exited the glass pyramid at the front of the museum and met up with the limousine. Upon entering the vehicle for ride back to the hotel, Harry sighed in relief as he strapped Leo into the child safety seat. If there was one thing the muggles had right, it was restrictive safety seats with lots of straps. No matter how Leo fussed and wiggled, there was no breaking free, and that made Harry happy.
Harry then took the seat next to Draco. Remembering Draco's earlier bout of dehydration, he asked, "Do you want something to drink?" and opened up the mini-fridge. Not only were there bottles of water and cans of soda, but also bottles of wine and champagne.
"Yes. What is that thing?" Draco asked, eyeing the fridge and its strange contents.
Harry then explained the concept of the refrigerator, while extracting a few cans of soda. He opened them one at a time and handed them to Draco to taste. Since Draco had never heard of soda, Harry then had to explain the exotic muggle beverages. Draco said the soda tasted alright, but assumed that the bubbles meant the drinks were alcoholic. Harry tried to explain that they were not, but eventually handed over a bottle of water instead.
The limo ride was short and they were soon back at the hotel. There they set to getting ready for their date. That included a shower for Harry, breastfeeding Leo for Draco, and the pair of them changing into muggle evening wear. When Ron and Hermione returned from the museum, they picked up Leo. Harry's friends would have a night in watching the baby while he and Draco had their night out on the town.
They were finally free and clear to go, but they weren't finished getting ready. Harry struggled with getting a comb through his hair, but Draco took mercy on him with a combing spell. Draco also fussed with Harry's tie, redoing that with a spell too. When it came time for Draco to put his own muggle suit on, it was Harry's turn to help.
"Why can't I wear my dress robes instead of this bloody muggle contraption?" Draco asked, motioning to the dress shirt he was wearing. It didn't seem to fit right in the chest; it was tight in the breast area, with the material pulling apart at the buttons, despite the fact that Draco had just fed Leo.
"Because we are taking a muggle limo there and after the meal we planned on sight-seeing along the river, through a muggle inhabited city," Harry explained. "Can't you use a spell to adjust it?"
"I tried. I made it bigger, but then the entire thing was bigger and I was swimming in it. Then I made just the one area bigger and it made me look like a witch. It's not cut right and I can't seem to figure out how to adjust it to look right," Draco complained.
"Well what if you put one of your vests over it? That should cover the problem."
"But I am already supposed to wear the matching jacket over it and it might be cold tonight. I cannot wear a vest, a jacket, and a cloak."
The weather had been growing colder again, with more gloomy days than bright sunny ones, despite the fact that it was still August. This summer seemed content to slip past with only a few hot days, which meant there was a chance the temperature might drop lower as the night wore on.
"You can't wear a cloak around muggles, full stop. I have a pair of Molly's sweaters for us to wear if it gets chilly," Harry said and Draco eyed him, as if to ask if he was serious. "For now, a vest and the jacket will be fine."
Draco grumbled as he went in search of a vest that would match his tie. When he was finally dressed to Harry's specifications, he presented himself in front of Harry and asked, "Is this alright?"
"It's brilliant. Let's go," Harry replied, rising from his seat on the sofa. They had had plenty of time, but Draco took so long getting ready that they were now running late for their reservation. The limo was already downstairs waiting, but if they didn't get to the restaurant on time, their table might be given away.
The restaurant was another ancient gilded Parisian affair with painted ceilings and large framed portraits on the walls. It looked like it would fit in perfectly in Napoleon's time and the menu was written in French to boot. Harry knew only the bare minimum of French, not having any exposure to foreign languages, besides Latin, Gobbledygook, and Mermish, since primary school. Draco helped Harry navigate the menu and steered him away from the snail and frog legs, towards the much safer chicken choices, which Harry was grateful for. When it came time to order, Draco ordered for them, in French with a flawless accent.
"You speak French too?" Harry asked, as the waiter walked away with their menus.
"Yes, French, German, and Latin. Mother and Father were insistent that I learn and all of the vacations to the cottage in Austria and the villa in France helped.
"I thought you spoke Austrian."
"German is the official language of Austria. They speak it with an accent, is all," Draco explained.
A waiter dropped off a basket of croissants and butter then. Draco took one instantly and began a careful process of slicing it open and buttering the inside.
"I thought they would serve us French bread in a French restaurant," Harry commented, as he took a croissant for himself.
"They do, but I asked for croissants instead. French bread is good if you're in the mood for a good cheese, but there is something criminal about a trip to Paris without a croissant," Draco replied, returning the knife and butter to the plate under the basket of pastries.
"I've only been to Paris with the Aurors. It was all business with no croissants," Harry replied, as he added a dab of butter to his own croissant. He moaned in delight as he bit into the warm, delicious, buttery, flakey, piece of perfection. "This is good."
Draco nodded and helped himself to a second and then a third croissant. "Where did your family take you for holidays, if not to France?"
"Nowhere, if they could avoid it. Mostly I got left with the squib down the street while they went on day trips to the shore."
"They sound dreadfully poor. I believe even the Weasleys went on the occasional trip out of the country."
"They did; Egypt and Romania, because that is where their oldest two sons moved. Ron told me that the lot of them usually spent a week off somewhere or another every summer. I believe he's been to Paris a few times before. But then I suppose traveling is easier and cheaper for wizards. That's one of the reasons I wanted to hire the car; so that you could see how long it takes muggles to get from one place to another and how they do it," Harry explained.
"I have ridden in an automobile before, you know. Not often and not lately, but apparently that is to change. Hermione has ordered a car to take us across the English Channel in the morning."
"But I thought you were going to take the portkey back. Was it canceled or something?"
"No, but apparently too many portkey trips is a short period of time can cause dizziness. The healer was being a bit overly cautious, but once Hermione latches onto something, she doesn't let go. She decided that we will floo to the Channel where we will meet a hired car to take us across. Then we will floo home," Draco explained.
"Why can't you floo across the Channel?"
"Because the floo connection through the Channel is already jammed pack with international fire-call connections. It's not wide enough to accommodate people too."
Their meals arrived then and their attention shifted towards the mouth-watering food on their plates. Despite the croissants, Harry was starving from all of the walking around the museum and Draco seemed just as famished. Harry paused in devouring his chicken dish only to ask Draco if the wizard wanted a taste. Draco accepted and offered a bit of his steak in return. Both were good and neither was the type of thing they could get back in England.
When Draco finished eating, he put down his knife and fork, wiped his face, and looked up at Harry with wide expectant eyes. "Dance with me," he requested.
"Here? Now?" Harry asked, looking around nervously. The restaurant was full of witches and wizards who would see. They would notice his bumbling around the dance floor. Someone was sure to recognize him, even though they were in a foreign country, and then it would end up in the papers. France was not nearly far enough to be safe. Besides, classical music was playing and he had absolutely no idea how to dance to that type of music, evidenced by his performance at the Yule Ball back in forth year. At least then he had the excuse that he was fourteen.
"Yes, here and now. Do you have a problem with that?" Draco's tone was inquisitive and amused.
"Yes," Harry hissed, leaning over the table so that only Draco would hear his admission. "I can't dance. I'll make a fool of myself and it will end up in the papers."
"No you won't, I won't let you. You will be fine with me leading."
"No Draco, I'm serious. I really can't dance. You remember the Yule Ball, don't you? I'm still that bad."
"I remember Pansy Bloody Parkinson snuggling up to me all night and trying to kiss me. Uck. If I'd known what I was getting myself into when I asked her, I wouldn't have bothered. It would have been better to come out of the closet and ask a bloke. I seem to remember you sitting the entire thing out with your Weasley friend. I thought maybe you were in the same situation, only brave enough to blow off whichever bird you'd come with."
"I did blow her off, but not before making an arse out of myself first. I'm telling you: I really can't dance."
"And I am telling you that it does not matter; not with me leading you. You will be fine. We can put up a privacy screen if you want. You know, the charm that makes an area all blurry and impossible for anyone else to focus on?"
Harry did want to be in Draco's arms. He remembered then the photo in the paper of Draco dancing with Dane and how envious he'd been to see it. He also remembered the time they'd danced together in Grimmauld Place and how easy it had been to fall into step when it was Draco he was following. And then there was the memory of the feel of Draco's lithe body against his, which had his face flushing and his blood rushing south. Sufficiently cajoled, he agreed.
When they stepped out onto the dance floor, Draco not only cast a privacy screen, but also requested a change of song. The music switched from classical music to a modern love song as Draco took Harry's hands and closed the distance between them. Their bodies pressed tightly against each other as Draco began to move, leading them in graceful circles over the dance floor.
At first Harry had to concentrate on not stepping on Draco's feet or stumbling, but halfway through the song he became accustomed to the rhythm and movement. Then he started gliding along with Draco, feeling the magic of being in Draco's arms. Draco was just a bit taller, so Harry had to tilt his head up to gaze into Draco's pale grey eyes, which burned back into his. The fresh clean scent of Draco's cologne and the feel of Draco's hard body pressed into his, had Harry rock hard. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done for it in this very public place, even with the privacy screen up.
"Next time, I want to take you to one of the clubs. I want to feel your body rocking against mine and for you to hear me rocking out on stage," Draco whispered into Harry's ear as they moved as one.
"You sing?" That was a stupid question and Harry knew it. He'd heard Draco sing and he knew Draco was good at it too. Only he'd only heard children's songs and lullabies. "I mean, you sing in public?"
"Yes. I had a bit of a band going. We used to perform in the Slytherin common room. I don't suppose the Gryffindor common room had its own band?" Harry shook his head and Draco continued, "No? Of course not. Slytherin is the superior house, after all. Our house parties were the talk of the school. Blaise plays the guitar and there was a pair of older boys who we'd get to play the drums and bass. There was a witch in the year below us who was pretty decent with the piano and a boy two years under us who sang back up. Vince and Greg used to beg us to join the band, but they were terrible. Couldn't master a lick of music, the pair of them."
"You seriously started a band at Hogwarts?" Harry asked amused. Part of him could see Draco rocking out in the Slytherin dorms, but the other part didn't think Draco had the guts.
"Actually, I didn't start it. I joined a pre-existing band as a backup singer first year. Professor Snape said it'd been going for years and that he'd tolerate it, as long as we kept the racket down and didn't invite the other houses in. We just put up Silencing charms to keep him from hearing and were selective with who we invited over. It wasn't until fifth year that most of the rest of the band had graduated and I finally had my chance at being the lead singer. Blaise wasn't allowed on the guitar until then either, but I hear he was the lead guitarist last year. I gave it up along with Quidditch in my sixth year. Without me, the younger boy took over the Sonorous charm and a new backup singer was chosen."
That was slightly more believable. Harry could easily see a young Draco waiting on the sidelines for his chance at center stage. He nodded and the song ended. "You didn't join the school chorus though."
"No, I'd never consider it, not with Flitwick in charge. That was the geek squad, that was. Thank you for this dance. I will expect them regularly, now that we are seeing each other. I hope you are prepared for that," Draco said, pulling away and leading them back to their table.
"Not entirely, no. But if you insist, I will give it a go," Harry replied, holding out Draco's chair for the wizard. Draco sat and Harry retook his own seat across the small table.
As soon he sat down, Draco picked up the dessert menu. "The Crème Brûlée is excellent here and so is the lemon tart. Do you want to order one of each and split them?" he offered, jumping straight to the point. He had a sweet tooth and expected dessert.
"No, I don't want to get either. I want to take you sight-seeing and find someplace along the river to get dessert. I hear there are Crêpe stands and gelato shops all over the place."
"Do you mean one of those muggle carts selling food along the side of the river?" Draco asked pointedly.
"Yeah, is there a problem with that?"
"Yes. My mother says they are not safe to eat from."
Harry thought the carts were safe enough, but he didn't particularly want to get into an argument about it. He didn't want to spoil their first real date and he had heard stories about people getting sick from eating spoiled food served off of street carts. Out of everything the purebloods had wrong about muggles, a wariness of street venders was the least of his concerns. "What about the gelato shops? There are plenty in regular buildings."
"I guess I could be talked into having a gelato. Let's go," Draco conceded. He had been hoping for Crème Brûlée, but he liked gelato too.
Harry settled the tab. They walked outside and he led them towards the river.
"Where is the limousine?" Draco asked, looking around confused. He was unsure how to get around muggle Paris without one. They could hardly pull out brooms and fly.
"Gone. We are walking to the river; it's only a block away," Harry answered. Although now he wished he had requested it to take them the short distance, since his feet hurt from all of the walking at the museum.
"I take it you don't wish to see all of the city then. I will not be able to walk far," Draco warned, taking Harry's hand in his. His feet were sore too.
Harry smirked, but kept his surprise to himself. As they silently walked to the river, he leaned in to Draco's warm body. It slowed their pace, but made the trip more enjoyable.
They reached the river's edge and Harry spotted the dock for the riverboat tours. He was leading Draco towards it, when the wizard pulled back, protesting.
"Harry, I would prefer not to take one of those muggle boats," Draco said, planting his feet and refusing to move a step further.
"Why? They are safe and it's a great way to see the city. We're just going up to the Eiffel Tower then back to the hotel," Harry countered.
"Boats make me sick and I don't have any potion for it on me."
"Oh…Oh! Are you still worried about your dizzy spell from earlier?"
"No, but nor do I wish to end this date puking on your shoes. I've never done well on boats, especially not without a potion first. Can't you call a hired car again?"
"No, but we can take a tour bus instead," Harry compromised. "I want to show you the city the muggle way. Only the richest of muggles travel around Paris in a hired limousine." He turned back in the direction they'd come and was glad when Draco followed again.
"If you haven't noticed by now, my family is quite well off," Draco teased with a smirk.
"Which is why taking a bus will be an experience for you. Have you ever taken the Knight Bus before?"
"No, but I have heard of it. My parents warned me away from it."
"Well that I can understand. The Knight Bus is a bit much, but muggle buses aren't nearly as death defying."
They soon reached the stop for the tour bus and sat down on a bench to wait. There was a muggle couple, a young man and woman, already sitting on the bench. Draco sat on the edge of the bench, as far from the muggles as he could get, but to Harry's surprise, he leaned in front of Harry to speak to the muggles in French. Harry waited patiently, pleased that Draco was bothering to interact with muggles, despite the fact that it was in a language Harry didn't understand. Harry did understand the gestures the woman began to make, pointing up the river as she said one thing and then down the river as she continued. It seemed likely that Draco was getting directions.
The conversation continued until the tour bus arrived, at which point Harry handed the Euros over for Draco to pay, because the wizard spoke the language and he didn't.
"What is this? I don't know how to use muggle currency," Draco protested, pushing the money away and back into Harry's hands, crumpling the paper bills in the process.
"But I don't speak French. Don't worry, just explain to him that we're British and use British Pounds. They'll help you figure out the Euros," Harry explained, pushing the money back towards Draco.
At that moment, the tour bus driver exited the vehicle and asked them something in French. Harry raised his eyebrow at Draco, indicating that he was useless with French and that Draco would have to do it. That forced Draco to answer the muggle and eventually he also presented the unfamiliar paper currency out for inspection. The muggle took a bill, gave them change and a pair of ticket stubs, and motioned them to take a seat on the bus with a few additional words in French.
Draco led the way, choosing a seat as far away from the other couples as possible.
Harry snuggled in next to his boyfriend and asked, "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
Draco made a noncommittal shrug and answered, "I've no clue if he was ripping us off or not. He might have just charged us a hundred galleons for a short bus ride…. Come to think of it, I have no idea how much he should be charging us for a bus ride. They must be cheap if commoners do it."
"Judging from the amount he took, he did charge a good amount, but it's not just for the one bus ride. We keep the ticket stubs and then we can get on and off the bus as much as we want all night."
"That's a relief, because that muggle I was talking to said the best place to get dessert is about halfway between here and the Tower. We can get off there, then?"
"Yes, if you can locate it, that is. I'm not much good with directions in French and I've no clue where she told you to go."
Draco nodded and replied, "Not to worry; if sweets are involved, I can find it. It would help if I had a map though."
Spotting a stash of maps towards the front of the bus, Harry rose to retrieve one. He was about to pick up one that was clearly written in French, when he spotted an English one. Odds were that the bus driver also spoke some or possibly fluent English, but he didn't bother mentioning that to Draco. Instead he returned to his seat and handed over the map.
Draco studied the map and paid close attention to the street signs they passed. Soon he was rising and leading Harry off of the bus. They walked down a street lined with shops, many of which were already closed for the night.
When they came to a bakery, Harry stopped and suggested, "Suppose we buy some croissants to take home with us. We are leaving in the morning and we can't let Leo's first trip to Paris pass without letting him taste his first croissant, can we?"
Draco smiled and nodded in agreement with the idea. The shop also sold Crème Brûlée, and they ordered a few to take home with them as well. There were enough delicious looking pastries that Harry's mouth started to water and he almost suggested they stop there for dessert. But Draco was already handing over the large sack of goodies and holding open the door for them to continue on. The gelato shop was just a few shops up. It was the best Harry had ever had, so he overdid it eating an extra-large scoop on top of the delicious French dinner. Draco had the same, but unlike Harry, he didn't feel uncomfortably full afterwards.
After they finished their gelatos, Draco led them on, insisting that they were closer to the next bus stop and might as well go on than turn back. Again they had to wait for a bus, but there was a gift shop there on the corner, so they stopped inside to buy souvenirs. Draco said they needed something to thank Ron and Hermione for babysitting, picking out a rather expensive miniature statue of the Eiffel Tower. Harry decided to buy trinkets for several of his friends, including Molly and Arthur, because they were expected at the Burrow for dinner soon.
They had to hurry up and pay when they saw their bus coming and were soon on their way to the Eiffel Tower. They took a lift up to a viewing platform, where they looked out on all of the ancient, bustling city and the accompanying river. There were boats going up and down the river, despite how late it was getting. It was already dark, but the stars were drowned out by the city lights. There were lights everywhere, surrounding them from all sides and outlining the shape of the city. Paris at night was a beautiful sight to see.
With the light of the moon overhead, Harry leaned in and pressed his lips to Draco's. Draco leaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Harry as he deepened the kiss. It turned into a frantic, passionate snog. Harry rocked his body into Draco's, eager for a bit of friction to relieve the pressure in his hard bits. Harry could feel the considerable bulge in Draco's trousers and the sound of Draco's moans in his ear urged him on. If it weren't for the fact that they were in a crowded muggle location, they might have gotten carried away with it. As it was, Draco pulled back first, pushing Harry back. They stood in silence, with only the sound of their panting breaths between them for several minutes.
Harry's heartbeat pounded in his ears at first, but as he calmed down, it receded. "This is beautiful, isn't it? I could stay here like this all night," he said, wrapping his arms back around Draco. He was more careful this time, keeping his groin from touching Draco's body, in order to keep himself restrained.
"It is lovely, but I need to get back to feed Leo. We've been gone too long already," Draco replied.
"But you left Hermione with a bottle of milk, just in case, didn't you?" Harry protested, wanting to prolong their night together.
"I did, but my breasts are starting to hurt. I need to do something about it soon or I will start leaking. I don't know how you plan on explaining that to all of the muggles around."
Harry suggested taking care of the problem in a muggle loo, which Draco thought was disgusting. Eventually they ended up ducking into the loo and apparating back to the hotel. They had a joined suite that shared a living room, but separate bedrooms. Draco ducked into his bedroom, locking the door behind him, to take care of his problem. Harry took care of his own extremely different problem in the loo of his own bedroom, before retrieving a sleeping Leo from Ron and Hermione.
Author's Note: Up next will be the Sunday dinner with the Weasleys and possibly Lucius and Narcissa returning to the Manor. Any ideas for how Draco might respond to being trapped in the Weasley Burrow, surrounded by red-heads?
The issue of how Dane and Kingsley are taking the canceled engagement will likely come up soon. A few people have mentioned that Kingsley should be upset over it. I'm not so sure though. How do we know Kingsley was for the relationship in the first place? Having his nephew marry into the Malfoy family doesn't seem particularly high up on Kingsley's priorities to me. Kingsley just sort of let his nephew do what Dane wanted to do. Since Kingsley doesn't have any children of his own and his sister's husband is dead, I see him partially playing the role of surrogate father to those kids. But as the uncle and as an easy-going bloke, I don't see him bothering to get involved with arranging marriage contracts and what not. Dane and Draco were only together for about a month, so I really can't see Kingsley as invested in the relationship. Plus, Harry and Kingsley get along well with each other. What do the rest of you think about it? Should Kingsley be upset or okay with it?
And what did you think of their date? After all of this time, I hope it lived up to your expectations.
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