Task 2 - Colour War (Write about someone showing their true colours)
Cabin Rule: Blue
Prompt: (song) Colors of the Wind from Pocahontas
WC: 1123
Note: Modern! AU, Businessman! Draco, Nursery Teacher! Harry
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"I don't know…" Harry paused, his arm still trapped in the clinging fabric of his coat, the damp making his skin crawl. The voice of Terry Boot was easily distinguishable amongst the delighted shrieks of the children as they arrived for the morning, even though he was trying to be discreet. "I feel bad for the kid."
Harry froze, his eyes blindly scanning over the carefully printed labels that decorated the wall above the pegs for the children's coats. He knew exactly who they were talking about.
He hadn't expected to see Draco Malfoy again after they left school five years ago, a fact that had settled strangely in his chest at the time and only grown into something unbearable — an ache like a missing tooth he couldn't help but draw into the light of day. The memory of their final day beneath a brilliant blue sky and Draco's hand warm in his in one final handshake replayed in the edges of his dreams in the moments between sleep and waking.
Draco's eyes had reflected the blue of the sky but had been something else lurking just beneath the surface.
Over the course of their time at school, their relationship had matured from the petty squabbles heightened by too much time spent together and the unfamiliarity of their surroundings into something unnameable. Harry's memories were layered with the blue of Draco's eyes and, even now, he found himself gravitating towards that same shade.
"Morning!" Harry called, dragging his coat off and tucking the fabric over his arm, the chill settled into his bones.
"Morning, Harry! Good weekend?" Terry's voice was soft and welcoming and Harry rounded the corner to see him curled into a too small seat, one leg stretched out to the side rather than wedge it beneath the table.
"Not bad." It was a lie, but covered by a thin veneer of the truth. Harry had had worse weekends that he had spent drowning his sorrows after Sirius' death, only stopping so he could stumble into work with a pounding head and a dry mouth but sober.
Harry rocked back to absorb the impact of a small body charging into his legs, compact arms wrapping around his waist in a desperate hug.
"Hi, Mr Harry!"
The current cause of his frustration beamed up at him, his blue eyes the same shade as his father's, the same shade that had plagued Harry's dreams and nightmares for the past five years.
"Hello, Scorpius," Harry said, extracting himself just enough to lean down and return the boy's hug.
His outfit was as impeccable as always, bereft of the mysterious stains that seemed to plague Ron and Hermione's children: a pale grey shirt with a blue floral design on the front, dark denim jeans and neat black boots.
They had barely been parted a second when Scorpius' hand wormed into his and he settled into Harry's side. "Can you come and colour with me?"
"Sure." Harry squeezed Scorpius' hand and was rewarded with a brilliant smile. "Just let me go and put my coat down first, okay?"
Scorpius nodded, and dashed back to the other table. He was soon engrossed in selecting the best crayons, carefully pulling them from the cup in the middle and lining them up next to him.
Harry turned to hang his coat on the pegs inside the cupboard and caught Terry's frown, his gaze locked into Scorpius before he turned back to Lorcan as the boy waved the scissors in the air. Lysander kept Ernie Macmillan busy on his other side with his attempt to claim his brother's scissors as his own and their previous conversation remained interrupted.
Draco Malfoy had a reputation, even in school, as someone who was ruthless, unfeeling and cruel, and that had only followed him into adult life. Harry was busy enough that most of the minutiae of the news slipped past him but George had a habit of keeping up with the business news on a morning, and had stayed over on the nights when Lee was working shifts that Harry had picked up on a few things.
His reputation wasn't unfounded. Draco was merciless in his business dealings and cold in his interactions with the press, so Terry and Ernie's worry had a foundation in which to put down roots.
But, Harry mused, as he stepped out of the cold cupboard and locked the door behind him, Draco had seemed so fragile on Scorpius' first day, his heart visibly breaking when he had to carefully pry the boy's fingers from his pressed trousers and directed him towards Harry. He had hesitated on the first step, a break in his unshakeable armour and Harry had known.
Draco Malfoy loved his son more than anything else, and his cold unfeeling persona was just that. Harry saw the truly vulnerable side to the ruthless businessman in the way Scorpius lit up when he spoke of his dad, in the way the boy ran to him when it was time to go home, and in the careful way Draco inspected everything piece of artwork Scorpius presented to him.
It was getting very difficult for Harry to disguise his crush on the other man, but he persevered. He couldn't afford to let his complicated feelings get in the way, even if Draco's gaze and curiosity of what the other boy had been wanting to say when they graduated and parted ways still haunted him.
"What are you wanting to colour today?" Harry braced himself against the table as he sat down, the crayons rattling with the movement but he stretched out to steady them.
Scorpius had chosen all blues, every shade the child could lay his hands out was laid out on the table, and he had retrieved two pieces of unused scrap paper.
"A dinosaur," Scorpius said, nodding decisively. "Can you draw me the outline?"
"Do you want to draw me an outline too?"
Scorpius' head tipped first to one side and then the other, a larger clumsier version of the slight mannerism Harry remembered Draco performing when they were in school. "Okay. My daddy said that we can go to the history museum after your meeting today. He said that he needs time to try and think what to say because he forgets how to when he's around you."
"Oh?" Harry fought to keep his voice level.
"Yeah, he said that you're really pretty." Scorpius tilted his head once again, inspecting his drawing. "Mr Harry, you're not drawing."
"Sorry." Harry bent his head to focus on the drawing, carefully ignoring the very familiar shade of blue he had chosen.
Children always picked up more than their parents expected, but Harry had never expected that.