Chapter 2

The real art of conversation is not only to say the right thing at the right place but to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment. — Dorothy Nevill

Harry sat down in Scooter's Coffee and Used Bookstore with his tea and biscuits. The quaint cafe was just down the street from the hospital, and his small round table was nestled into a bay window, allowing Harry to watch the cold, rainy Sunday afternoon traffic and take in the smell of old books and freshly-brewed drinks. He'd just finished taking Teddy to see his grandmother at St Mungo's, but after Mrs Malfoy had arrived, Teddy's attention had been diverted to his Auntie Cissy who always seemed to have fun toys for him in her bags. Harry'd had two years to get used to Andromeda's sister's presence, but he still found himself surprised she was so easy with Teddy.

He took a sip of his tea and watched the rain drip down the window, willing himself to relax. It'd been ten days since Andromeda had been admitted to the hospital, which meant ten days of passing Teddy back and forth like a tennis ball between Malfoy Manor, Grimmauld Place, and the Burrow. The poor kid was starting to show the weariness the lack of routine was causing, but overall, he seemed to be enjoying the extra attention he was getting from everyone.

Harry, on the other hand, was finding himself restless. He was on light duty at work, and he was unused to so much downtime. Teddy was in bed before nine most evenings when he was home, and Harry was missing the distraction a difficult case usually offered him. So here he sat, loathe to return home to an empty house. Ron and Hermione weren't an option these days, either, as they'd just returned from their honeymoon and he didn't want to intrude on their newly-married bliss. They needed their space, and he was trying to give it to them, even if they hadn't asked.

The bell on the door to the cafe rang and Harry noticed someone step into his peripheral vision, dripping water and looking miserable. Harry looked back out at the rain, returning to his thoughts and tea.

"Harry."

He looked up, surprised.

"Draco!" It'd taken a few days, but the name came easier to him now, though the man in front of him was barely recognisable as the man he'd been trading Teddy with all week. "What happened to you?"

"Rain, Potter. Rain happened to me. May I sit with you?"

"Uh, of course." Harry moved his chair slightly, making room for the other man as he took the seat across from him. "Can I get you some tea?"

"I've just ordered, thank you. They promised to bring it over. How these Muggles get around without magic will never cease to amaze me. It's miserable out there, and I figured an Impervious Charm would be too obvious. You don't suppose I could pop back to the loo and get away with a quick-drying charm, could I?"

Harry laughed. "Hardly. Give it a few minutes then try it on your clothes, but not your hair. No one should notice then."

Draco nodded and sighed as his tea was delivered to the table. "Thank you." He glanced at the waitress and gave her a grateful smile.

She giggled. "Of course. Is there, ah, anything else I can get you?" She tucked her hair behind her ear and waited with a hopeful look.

The man didn't seem to notice the attempt at flirting and dismissed her with a quiet word of dissent.

"She likes you."

Draco grunted. "Not interested."

"Why, because she's Muggle?" Harry asked quietly, wincing at the sound of accusation in his voice.

Steel grey eyes shot him a level look. "No, Harry, she's a woman, and as such, I'm. Not. Interested." The look had turned into a glare. "Do you think I still have a problem with Muggles?" He sneered. "Are you afraid I'll teach your godson to be—"

"No!" Harry cut him off before he could continue, and felt guilty. "I'm sorry, but not having a problem with and wanting to date are two entirely different things."

Draco stared at him, then nodded. "Yes, they are, and for what it's worth, I don't think I could date a Muggle. But not because they don't have magic, but because we'd be too different, and I just don't think we'd understand each other all that well."

Harry felt slightly chastened, but also surprisingly pleased. "So what changed?"

They sat in silence for several minutes, and Harry assumed that Draco was done discussing it. They both sipped their drinks and watched the rain.

Finally, Draco spoke. "I did some travelling before I started my advanced studies. I spent several months in different cities throughout the continent, and I stayed mostly in Muggle youth hostels. I just wanted to lose myself, forget where I had come from, what I had done, and it was the easiest way. I kept to myself mostly, but I met a few people that I considered friends for a while. It opened my eyes, I suppose you could say, to experiences outside what I'd previously known."

Harry felt a flicker of jealousy, but he wasn't sure what he was jealous of. Was it the ability to travel? To be anonymous? To be Draco's friend? He nodded, though, and smiled.

"That sounds lovely. I've not ever had the opportunity to do something like that. I'm glad you did."

Draco met his eyes, grey meeting emerald green, and held them. "So am I," he said quietly, then moved his eyes back to the rain. "But that doesn't mean I didn't miss the convenience of magic." He cleared his throat and sat up straight, glancing back to Harry. "Anyway, I'm glad I caught you. My mother said she'd recommended this place and suggested I might find you here. Do you mind if we switch nights this week with Teddy? I have a late work meeting on Tuesday, so if I could take him tomorrow evening and you take him Tuesday, that'd be ideal."

Harry shrugged. "Works for me. Do you want me to drop him with Narcissa early Tuesday morning, then?"

Long fingers tapped the table as Draco seemed to consider the schedule. "It might be easiest if I pick him up and bring him home late Monday night. I'll be done around nine. I can come to get him then."

Harry shook his head. "Nah, I'll just bring him over to the Manor and help put him to bed. I've gotten quite skilled at travelling by Floo while he sleeps, and he'll likely be out by then. Nine o'clock, then?"

"Perfect. Thank you, Harry, for being flexible."

He laughed. "No reason not to be. It's not a problem, really." Harry stood and smiled. "Well, I'm done here, I think. The rain seems to have let up, so I'll be off before it starts again."

Draco stood as well and followed him to the door, wrapping his still wet coat around him. "Tomorrow, then, Potter. Good evening."

"Good evening, Draco."

Harry walked down the pavement, avoiding puddles and losing himself in thoughts. Draco Malfoy had spent time backpacking through Muggle Europe. Who the hell would have imagined that? And why the hell did Harry find that so interesting?

Harry sat next to the bathtub, periodically vanishing the water that suddenly splashed onto the floor in front of him. Teddy squealed and used his toy submarine to crash once more into the Hippogriff he had floating on the surface of the water. Bubbles and water flew in all directions, and Harry laughed.

"Teddy, mate, you need to keep the water in the tub."

"Okay, Uncle Harry, but Draco says that making a big mess in the tub means you get cleaner and have more fun. He says it's nothing magic can't clean up. Is that true?"

"Uh, I guess," Harry said with a laugh, unsure of what to make of that statement. It certainly didn't sound like something he'd expect Malfoy to say. Not Malfoy, Draco, he reminded himself. Maybe that made the difference. He wasn't really Malfoy now, was he? They'd both changed a lot since school, and everyone deserved a chance to be different than they once were, to grow up.

And Draco had definitely grown up. He was quite attractive now, actually, though if Harry were to be completely honest with himself, he had to admit that Draco had always been good-looking. His attitude and behaviour had repulsed Harry from any attraction he might have felt when they were young—not that he'd admitted to himself back then that he also liked men—but he'd always noticed Malfoy. Always. Hmph.

Harry stood and began cleaning up the bathroom, then picked up the towel to help Teddy out of his bath. The boy's hair was black and messy at the moment, and Harry smiled to himself. Teddy didn't generally morph much unless he was really trying, but his hair was the exception and often reflected his thoughts or mood. Harry thought back to Tonk's pink hair and felt a small pang of sadness. Pushing it away, he towelled the black hair as the child chatted about his toys, Bill and Fleur's daughter Victoire, and brooms. The conversation was mostly one-sided, so Harry made the appropriate noises and let the little boy wear himself out, slowly moving them both to the bedroom to put on pyjamas.

"Uncle Harry, you said I was sleeping at Draco's and Auntie Cissy's tonight. Why am I putting on my 'jamas now?"

"Because Draco won't be home until after you're already asleep. I'm going to take you over and put you in your bed there when he gets home. Does that sound all right?"

"Mm-hmm. I like my room there. It's fun.

Lifting the boy up onto Harry's enormous bed, Harry hesitated. "Do you want your own room here? I have plenty of them, buddy."

Teddy shook his head vehemently. "No way. It's okay over there, but I like sleeping in your bed, Uncle Harry. You're the best Auror ever, and I feel super safe when I sleep with you. And you hug me when I get bad dreams, and I like that."

Harry's throat clenched at that statement, so innocent and so perfectly what he needed to hear. He sat down next to his godson and picked up the picture book they'd picked out. "I like that, too, Teddy Bear. If you ever change your mind, you just tell me, okay?" He waited for the boy to nod, then opened the story. "Now, are you sure you want this book again?"

"Yes! The boy is just like me. Rawwwr!"

"All right, then, settle down. Are you comfortable? Yes? Here goes. 'The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind or another…'"

Harry carried a sleeping Teddy through the Floo into Narcissa's sitting room, having made this same trip several times now. Instead of Narcissa, however, Draco greeted him. His robes had been discarded, and his button-up shirt was open at the neck, sleeves rolled up. He clearly hadn't been home long, but he'd obviously attempted to make himself more comfortable.

"Harry," he greeted in hushed tones. "Do you know where his room is?"

Harry shook his head, then followed Draco as he turned and ushered him out of the room. They walked to the grand stairs, and remembering his earlier musings, he tried not to notice Draco's extremely fit rear end as he climbed the steps before him. Adjusting Teddy into a more comfortable position, Harry continued to stare as they ascended, hardly aware that Draco was speaking to him until they'd stopped mid-climb.

Draco turned and cocked an eyebrow. "Hello?" His tone was dry and seemingly amused. "I asked if you wanted to stay for a drink after we put him to bed, but you appear to be too busy staring at my arse to hear me."

Harry blushed and shrugged. "And a fine arse it is, perfectly shaped and toned. Though you're the one who chose to climb in front of me instead of beside me, so I figured you were showing it off." Harry gave him a grin. "And yes, a drink would be appreciated, thank you."

He received an eye roll in return, then a smirk as they resumed their ascent, Draco still in front. He seemed to be adding a bit of a clench to each step now, making Harry laugh. Who would have guessed Malfoy had such a sense of humour about such things?

At the top of the stairs, they made their way down a large corridor lined with family portraits, most sleeping. The third door on the left was opened, and Draco led Harry into a room clearly meant for a child. There was a low light glowing next to the bed, and shelves of books and toys lining the wall.

Harry crossed the room to the large bed and waited as Draco pulled back the coverlet, allowing Harry to lay Teddy down. He tucked him in, then ran his hand through the tousled hair, now the boy's natural brown. He stood staring for a moment, then stepped back, surprised to see Draco watching him.

Harry smiled. "He looks so big sometimes, then I see him like this, in this large bed, sound asleep, and I remember how small he still is, and how much he still has to grow. It's an amazing thing."

Draco stared at him, and he felt self-conscious at his ruminations. Attempting to change the subject, he looked around. "Was this your room as a child? It's beautiful."

Finally breaking the stare, the other man looked around and gave a nod. "Yes, until I was eight and father felt it was time I move to the Heir's Suite." He hesitated, then looked at Harry again. "But some of my best childhood memories are in this room." He turned for the door. "Come on, let's get that drink."

They ended up in a library of sorts, though Harry assumed it was likely a personal office. He'd never understand why these rich manors had so many names for the same damned room. Either way, it was comfortable, with a plush, deep-burgundy rug and a warm fire burning. Draco gestured to a pair of chairs by the fire.

"What can I get you? I'm having a glass of Cabernet, but I have anything you might like."

"The Cabernet sounds wonderful, thank you." Harry looked around. "So how many libraries do you have here? Your mother's sitting room practically counts as one, and I know I've seen at least one other. That's a lot of books."

Draco chuckled, but it didn't sound sarcastic as Harry had expected. "Yes, a lot of books. My family are collectors and have been for generations. This is my office," Harry gave himself a mental high-five for getting that right, "and I mostly keep books I use regularly here. There are some of my favourite novels, my Potions and Herbology texts, as well as other items I'd like easily accessible."

Harry stood and walked to the bookshelf, perusing some of the titles. "These all seem very, uh, well…" He couldn't find the word he wanted without offending.

"Light?" Draco asked with a sardonic tone.

He shrugged. "Well, yeah. I expected to see at least some of the books that I inherited with Grimmauld Place."

"Yes, well, those would be in the family's private library." He gave Harry a challenging look. "Are you going to ask to see them?"

"If it's private, why would I ask to see them?" Harry asked, slightly confused at the challenge.

"Well, Auror Potter, to see if I have anything dark?"

Harry felt his confusion turn to hurt, then to irritation, then spike into fury within a moment. "You think that I would come into your home with my godchild, accept a drink from you as your guest, then spy to see if you had something dark that I could turn in?" He set his glass down hard onto the table, spilling a bit, and stood. "Fuck you. If that's what you think of me, then I can see that I was sorely mistaken in what I thought might be a new friendship. If you'll excuse me, I'll leave so you can be sure I'm not here to search your fucking house."

Harry stalked across the room and Malfoy stood in silence, but when he reached for the door, the handle wouldn't turn. Spinning around, Harry nearly reached for his wand in his anger. Malfoy's hands were out in front of him, showing he was unarmed, so Harry dropped his arm cautiously.

"Let. Me. Out." He could hear the menace in his own voice and didn't care.

"Potter—Harry." Malfoy said quietly. "I apologise. I don't really think that's why you accepted the drink. I don't know what came over me." He raised his chin and turned to look out the window. "I guess I'm still somewhat caught up in our past. There was a time when you'd do exactly that and come here to find information."

Harry deflated nearly as fast as his anger had grown. Draco was right. There was a time when he would have done that; when he did do that. Memories of his sixth year flashed through his mind, and he tried to smile, though he was pretty sure he'd missed the mark a bit.

"You're right. I'm sorry I got so angry." Harry took a deep breath. "Shall we start again? Maybe you missed the part where I said I had some of those darker tomes in my own library?"

Draco nodded. "I suppose I did. I'm surprised."

"Why? Magic is magic, right?" Harry sat back down and picked up his abandoned drink. "Look, I know Dumbledore was all about the light, but for me, the light is your intent. I never understood dark magic or light magic. You can kill just as easily with a levitation charm as you can with an AK. Easier, in fact, as it takes a lot less magic."

Draco stared at him in astonishment.

"What?"

"It's just not what I expected to hear from the Gryffindor golden boy."

"Yeah, well, that golden boy hadn't been an Auror and seen what supposedly good people could do and try to explain away as okay, simply because the spell wasn't dark." Harry brushed away the memories that tried to surface, as he always did. "The world isn't black and white, is it?"

Draco sat down again with his wine. "No, it's not."

Harry looked at his own glass. "Do you have something slightly stronger?"

"Yes, I believe I do," Draco said with a small smile, then got up to walk to his liquor cabinet. "So, tell me about being an Auror."

Harry sat back and began to talk about his day.