31. Violet [Monday, February 7th 2005]
Draco chucked his sterile healing scrubs into the rubbish bin enthusiastically. Reassembling that girl's splintered ribcage had been his last case for the day and he was looking forward to a very hot bath and some Chinese food. Now all that was left was checking his chart to verify that his patients were indeed all transferred to the Healer on duty.
Bright red ink caught his eyes, forming the words 'Priority patient – H. J. Potter' and his stomach dropped. Detailed underneath were his whereabouts and nothing else, which meant that the Welcome Witch hadn't gotten anything out of him.
Draco practically ran down three flights of stairs and yanked open the door of examination room number three, which startled Harry so much he dropped the anatomical model of a heart that he was holding. Since this happened quite often, maintenance had charmed the model to be unbreakable. It bounced and Harry caught it hastily, putting it back on the counter with a guilty look on his face.
"Surprise," he said weakly, a crooked grin on his face.
"What's wrong?" Draco said, drawing his wand. "What did you do this time?"
"Nothing!" Harry waved his hand and the door closed behind Draco. "I just came to see you. And to ask if you'd want to watch a movie?"
Draco stopped scanning Harry's body for injuries, eyes snapping back to his face. He was speechless for a few seconds, heart still racing. "That's the whole reason you're here? To ask me on a date?"
"Well … yeah. It's the seventh. My three weeks ended yesterday. I'm officially recovered, you can ask Padma."
Draco leaned back against the wall and worked on catching his breath. He really needed to do more exercise. And maybe find a man who wasn't in constant peril of getting injured.
What had he done to deserve this? Alright, there was no need to answer that question. Draco was just retroactively thankful that he hadn't cared this much about Harry when there had been a madman actively trying to kill him.
"I don't think I can take another evening with your Muggle friends so soon. Holding all those questions in was exhausting. Do all girls go to school dressed like streetwalkers? How did they not get detention? Do Muggle schools even have detention? Why would they crown someone at a ball? Why would they choose who to crown? That's not how a monarchy works, even I know that."
"Wow, you had a minute or two to think about that, huh?" Harry grinned at him fondly. "The election is just a tradition; it doesn't mean anything. And most girls wear perfectly normal clothes. Movies tend to exaggerate quite a bit."
"Then how am I supposed to know what's accurate?" Draco cried out in frustration, which seemed to amuse Harry immensely.
"Just stick to me." Harry grinned. "And I wasn't asking you to movie night with the others. I'm talking about the real deal – cinema. Just the two of us. I'll even let you choose the movie."
"There's more than one?"
Harry hid his grin behind his Cloak and grabbed his arm. "You're almost as clueless as Arthur. It's adorable. This is going to be so much fun."
~o~
They didn't go to the cinema straight away. Draco was able to persuade Harry to swing by his house so he could shower and get changed. When he came back down, Harry sat on his sofa, Aurelius draped over his lap.
"I ordered Chinese, hope that's okay with you?" Harry asked as soon as he stepped into the kitchen, without even looking up. That man had superhuman hearing.
"Fine by me," Draco said, stifling a yawn. He sank into the armchair opposite Harry, fully intending never to get up again.
"How do you usually order?" Harry asked curiously. "You don't have a telephone."
"I fire-call Muggle Liaisons. They connect me."
Harry nodded thoughtfully and continued tickling Aurelius' favourite spot between the ears. When the bell rang, Draco only sank further into his chair, shooting Harry a pointed look.
"It's your house!" Harry protested, ruffling Aurelius' fur thoroughly, as if to show that he couldn't possibly get up.
Well, neither would Draco. "It's your order," he said coolly.
"Exactly. I took care of that, now it's your turn."
"I'm sorry, Potter. I thought this was supposed to be a date."
Harry grumbled and made a lengthy show of getting up, only getting a move on when the bell rang a second time.
"Coming!" he shouted. Draco could only just see him covering his scar with hair before he vanished into the hallway. At least he was trying.
Aurelius didn't waste any time to join Draco in his armchair, effectively burying him. Draco didn't mind. It felt like being covered with a heavy blanket, warm and comfortable. He closed his eyes and listened to the crackling of the fire Harry had lit.
"Don't fool yourself, we're still going out later," Harry said suddenly, startling him.
Aurelius leapt down to sniff the bag Harry had put on the coffee table.
"I can't move a muscle," Draco lamented. "Today was torture."
"Even more reason to do something fun!" Harry said energetically. Draco just grumbled. "Well," Harry continued. "I guess if you can't move at all, I'll have to eat your food."
"Don't you dare," Draco hissed, flicking his wand in his general direction.
His hand closed around two fortune cookies that came flying, missing a third one he had not anticipated. Harry caught it before it could hit the ground and sat back on his sofa.
"I asked for one extra, to make up for last time," he said incidentally.
Draco looked up at him and said generously, "In that case … I guess you can keep that one."
Harry grinned at him and handed him a magazine with two immensely attractive Muggles on the cover. "Here, this has some shots and information on the movies they are showing. Just pick one."
It was not as easy as 'just picking one'. They spent the entire meal discussing different movies, which meant that Harry was mostly explaining words and phrases that meant nothing to Draco. In the end he just picked the most colourful one, guessing that it would be cheerful and (hopefully) not too complicated.
~o~
Well, Draco had been wrong before. The movie was loud and flashy and also highly confusing. At least the ending was happy, though (according to Harry) that was a given with children's movies. Which this one apparently was. Draco argued that there were hardly any children present at the showing, but Harry blamed that on the time of day. It was almost midnight when the movie ended.
They Apparated to a street a few minutes away from Draco's house, because Harry simply insisted on walking him home. Draco just wished they could have forgone two of the three jumps that Harry deemed necessary for some arbitrary reason. As if his brain hadn't already been in a knot before that.
There had been so much to take in, and separating the real elements from the fictional ones seemed practically impossible. Muggles obviously had those airplane things, but building a robot that big was apparently unrealistic?
Also, contrary to what Harry had told him, the robot did not look like an Imperiused suit of armour, which had Draco pondering what other misinformation Harry might have spread. Maybe he would have to read up on some things. Not that he knew where to look for that kind of information.
Harry had told him that computers could tell you practically everything, but what if that had been a lie too? Also, he would have to read up on how to operate a computer first. And then he would have to find one. Maybe he could ask Granger instead. She certainly wouldn't answer a question incorrectly if she could help it.
"What are you thinking about?" Harry interrupted his thoughts by nudging Draco's shoulder with his own.
"Violet," was the first thing that came to mind. Violet? Where was he supposed to go with that? Good thinking, Draco!
"What about her?"
Time to improvise. "Well, you realise she's practically you?"
Harry missed a beat and then caught up with him again. "I'm afraid I don't see the resemblance," he said with a grin.
"She turns invisible, like, constantly. Also: shield charm."
"She – I'm not – Shut up!" Harry spluttered.
"She has black hair too. Which is always in her face, by the way. Need I go on?"
"An animated teenage girl is not an accurate representation of me!" Harry exclaimed indignantly.
"She wears red, like, most of the time," Draco said incidentally. Which wasn't that hard, because he had only just thought of the comparison.
Harry grabbed him by both arms and spun him around so that Draco's back was touching Mrs. Capitelli's hedge. "If you ever call me Violet, I'll tell everybody to call you Ferret Face again."
"And boy, does she have a temper," Draco said with a smirk, looking pointedly at where Harry's hands were digging into his arms.
"I don't – argh!"
Harry made a frustrated noise and let go of him with a slight shove. Draco, who thought he could be a little dramatic about it, leaned into it. Problem was: Mrs. Capitelli's hedge wasn't as sturdy as he had thought.
Harry seemed to realise what was about to happen and grabbed his arms again, but the damage was done – they tumbled into the shrubs together, and not too quietly.
The lights in several houses had gone on by the time they were able to extract themselves from the hedge and there were voices coming from Mrs Capitelli's.
Draco grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him with him across the street. They almost fell through the front door, which unlocked itself when they drew near. Draco pressed Harry against the wall inside so he could slam the door shut behind them. They looked at each other in the dark, both of them panting (Harry slightly and Draco embarrassingly much).
"There's a twig in your hair," Draco muttered finally, pulling it out. "Really completes the look. You were going for 'bird's nest', right?"
Harry took the twig and just let it fall to the floor, his eyes never leaving Draco's. He took a sudden step forward and Draco backed up against the door automatically. Harry put one hand on Draco's shoulder and the other on his hip and pressed him against the door with his own body. But when they kissed, it was soft and slow and not at all what Draco expected.
Draco's stomach was in an uproar, like a million butterflies had been released all at once. That was probably the reason why he felt light-headed, felt like his feet were just about to leave the ground.
This was the exact opposite of a dementor's kiss. Draco felt like he actually gained a little more soul the longer Harry's lips were on his. He plunged one hand into Harry's hair and placed the other on his back, drawing him closer.
Harry did the one thing Draco didn't want him to do – he withdrew, eyes half-closed, and then leaned his forehead against Draco's. He sounded breathless as he asked, "So, how would you feel about dinner tomorrow?"
Draco just nodded dumbly, not sure if his voice would even work right now. Harry kissed him again for a moment that wasn't nearly long enough and then took a step back. Draco let him go reluctantly. He was all for more contact, not less. Less was a stupid idea.
"Do you want to …" Draco started, but he trailed off when Harry smiled softly and took another step back.
"I'll keep my Floo open for you tomorrow. Come by around six?"
Draco nodded, not really sure what had just happened. He was no expert on dating, but he had a feeling that there was supposed to be a certain amount of sex at the end of it. And it didn't really look like that was where they were headed right now.
Harry smiled again and pulled his Cloak out of an inside pocket. "Good night, Draco."
Then he vanished. An invisible hand took hold of Draco's for a second and then there were soft lips on Draco's for the fraction of a second. The door opened and then he was gone.
But when Draco was lying in bed later, it wasn't sex he was thinking about. He couldn't help but think how nice it had been of Harry not to compare him to the movie's villain in retaliation. The resemblance was certainly there – rejected by the hero and subsequently acting against him because of it. Had Harry really not seen it?
Maybe, just maybe, he could see something else in him? It was rather pretentious to assume Draco had ever been the main antagonist of Harry's life. Maybe Draco really was more like the villain's platinum blonde assistant who changed sides in the end? He liked to think that Harry saw that in him.
