A/N: Thank you guys for being patient with me. Thank you to Fanofbellaandedward for proof-reading this for me!

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters created by J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Five

It took Draco another week before he had completely unpacked everything he'd been able to carry with him from the manor.

He had written his mother back, carefully leaving out the part about Potter being the world's soggiest brat in the process. The last thing he needed was for the Ministry to assume he had been the one to de-age the idiot and send him off to Azkaban. He was a little envious when she had reported that she was growing accustomed already to using a muggle stove. Draco had steadfastly ignored any sort of progress on his part, choosing to either avoid the kitchen until he was called down for a meal, or making sure he was nose-deep in whatever he found in his cousin's library.

However, he knew he couldn't avoid it forever.

There were so many muggle contraptions in the damned house. He knew that, sooner or later, he was going to break something of value without even realising it. Like that evil black thing in the front parlour that had strange moving pictures in it. It reminded Draco of a pensive, but some of the things didn't make sense. What the hell was a McDonald's anyway? And why were people loving it so much?

Other parts of living at Grimmauld place weren't too bad. Sirius was of course busy with baby-Potter, a fact that Draco still found himself uneasy about. After his realisation that Potter would one day grow up again and remember all their fights, Draco had ensured that he interacted as little as possible with the stink-bucket. For now, it worked. Potter was a baby and could barely crawl let alone chase Draco down. The problems would start in a few months when more memories came back to him.

He was not looking forward to that.

The weather was growing gradually hotter outside as the summer intensified. It would have been around this time of year that Draco could go swimming in the pool at the manor within hours of getting off the train at Kings Cross. Here, there was no such luxury. Sirius had spent the morning blowing air into some weird, blue rubbery thing and then filled it with a shallow level of water. He'd sloshed around in it with Potter, earning excitable squeals from the lump, before he'd gotten too tired.

It was one a particularly hot afternoon that Sirius found Draco in the front parlous, lounging in an armchair and doing some casual reading about magical creatures of all things. He'd spent all day keeping away from the windows, not wanting to be in direct sunlight. He was wearing some of his usual, pressed attire but it was becoming unbearable in the heat. The fabric did not breathe against his skin and it left his lungs feeling too hot to sustain air. Sirius cleared his throat, causing Draco to flinch.

"I wondered where you were hiding," he said.

"Well you found me," Draco snipped, closing the book with a glare at his cousin.

Sirius gave him a once-over and frowned. "Are you comfortable in that? What you're wearing?"

Draco glanced down at himself. It was true his black slacks and white pressed shirt weren't the most casual of clothing, however anything else he owned that wasn't winter-wear, was still just as thick as his current outfit. He bristled with humiliation. He should be used to that sting by now.

"Do you want us to go into town and find you something easier to wear?"

"I don't need any hand-outs," he sneered, opening his book back and bowing his head.

"This is hardly a hand-out," Sirius said. "Even I had to change out of my usual clothes today." He paused for a moment, choosing his next words carefully. "It'll only get worse as the summer progresses."

"Thanks but I don't really think a shopping trip is going to cheer me up," Draco sneered bitterly.

"It's hardly a shopping spree," Sirius said. "Just something more weather-appropriate."

"I'm fine as I am."

Even as he said those words the prickly hit rushed over his chest and down his back in a sickly wave. He closed his eyes for a moment and waited for the nausea to subside before refocusing on the words before him.

"Come on," his cousin urged. "Look, let's just grab you some jeans and a few t-shirts. Something loose. You'll feel better."

Draco sighed and rubbed at his temples. He was getting a migraine. "Fine," he sighed, "Whatever gets you to stop whining at me. However, I want you to be aware that I'm doing this under protest."

"Duly noted," Sirius intoned. "Now, get yourself ready. As soon as I get Harry dressed, we can head out!"

As the door to the parlour swung shut, Draco groaned. Why did Potter have to come? Then he kicked himself. The little snot-monster was barely a year old yet, there was no way he could be left alone. Draco did not enjoy the idea of being stuck in a hot, sweaty muggle shop with a bawling brat and his manic cousin. It was a recipe for disaster.

However, a plan had been made and he had no power to sway the matter in his favour.

Resigning himself to his fate, he plucked at the fabric sticking to his skin and wondered out into the hallway to put his shoes on and make himself look presentable. If there were any reporter's from the Daily Prophet about to stalk him around London, then at the very least he didn't want to look too dishevelled and le them think that the world had beaten him at last. Sirius came down the stairs within five minutes, wearing a t-shirt and weird blue trousers instead of his usual collared attired and pressed trousers. Draco wrinkled his nose but bit his tongue. Potter was strapped to his cousins' chest with a weird contraption, a little yellow sunhat sitting neatly on his head.

"Ready?" Sirius asked, slipping his feet into the most hideous, white rubber shoes Draco had ever seen, and pocketing his wand and keys.

"Yes," he bit out.

"Don't be like that," the older man chided. "You'll feel better I promise."

"And if I don't?"

"Then I won't put you in the oven."

Draco blinked at the statement and grumbled. "You know, threatening me with muggle objects will stop working one day."

"Not any time soon if you keep moping around with your books!" Sirius called as he hopped briskly down the steps to the pavement. Draco hesitated before stepping out into the sunlight and pulling the heavy door shut behind him. Charms hummed through the wood, locking and bolting it from the inside. Envy stirred in his gut. He missed being able to do magic. Following Sirius' lead, Draco descended the concrete steps, pausing only briefly before stepping down onto the pavement. He felt the wards shudder as he left the safety of the house. Glancing back over his shoulder, he was both unsurprised and disappointed at losing sight of Number Twelve. He knew it was still there … but still. It left him feeling hollow.

He hastened to catch up with Sirius.

The sun baked him alive through the thick fibres of his sleek white shirt. He felt illuminated, letting all wizards around London know where he was. He was a walking target. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He kept pace with Sirius as much as he could. "So where are we going?" he groused, clasping his hand behind his back.

"We're going into London. We only need a few things for you for now."

The answer was especially vague and irked Draco. He held his tongue. Every time he shot Sirius a look, his eyes would catch on Potter's chubby little face half-hidden under the yellow sun-hat. He was fast sleep right now.

Sirius marched him through numerous streets. They were long, baking in the hot sun and as they moved through them, Draco became aware of more muggles cluttering up the walkway. There was so much tan skin exposed; dark flowing hair, large sunglasses hiding half their faces, and large, bulging bags that looked as though they were about to burst open on the road. Draco felt hot and irritable as tall buildings with glass fronts came into view. Stationary mannequins appeared on display in numerous outfits.

To his utter horror, Sirius took a sharp left into one of the shops.

Draco cast a look up at the sign above the door, the sun in his eyes, and grimaced before reluctantly following inside. The wave of cool air was refreshing as it hit him out of nowhere. He whipped around trying to find the source and failing. He froze in place, a bead of sweat racing down the side of his face.

"Draco?"

He spun around to face Sirius. He swallowed thickly. "S-sorry."

"Just wondered where you'd gone," Sirius motioned for him to follow him towards a sterile white staircase. The sign next to the foot of the stairs read 'MENS' with an arrow pointing up. Sirius waited for him as he mounted the steps. He curled an arm under Potter's chubby little legs and cocked his head to the side. The mannequins were smooth, white, blank figures on podiums. It made Draco feel so uneasy he could barely focus on the clothes until he walked into a rack.

His cheeks heated up.

Sirius smirked but didn't say anything. "So what colours do you like?" he asked instead.

"What?" the blonde frowned.

"To wear," Sirius said. "No offense to you, kid, you can't go around wearing black in the level of heat we're going to get."

"What're you, a seer now?"

"No, I watch the news."

"The what?"

Sirius cocked an eyebrow. "I'll show you later. For now; we need to pick you out some clothes."

Draco picked at the closest thing to him and wrinkled his nose. "The fabric is so cheap!"

"It's thin, which is good for the hot weather," Sirius replied in a neutral tone. "Come on. I'm not doing this all myself."

With a sigh, Draco resigned himself to his fate. He leafed through all the basic tops and tees, feeling his insides cramp with discomfort at the cheap fabric, the gaudy designs and the hideous styles. He wouldn't be caught dead in any of this muggle rubbish. However, he couldn't just make his clothes bearable with a cooling charm, and neither Sirius nor Remus had volunteered. As he browsed through rack to rack, he came across a single faded green t-shirt that had a graphic outline of a snake striking with its fangs extended. Reluctantly, he plucked the hanger up, along with a blue t-shirt with a similar design of a Chinese dragon on it, before craning his neck up to see where Sirius had gotten to.

Unsurprisingly, he'd wandered over to the baby section.

Draco grimaced, his skin feeling hot and itchy in his current attire, as he walked across the glossy white floor to where Sirius was leafing through the pint-sized outfits. As he drew closer he could hear Sirius talking to the brat as he wriggled in the holster strapped to Black's chest.

"Harry you need to choose; blue bunnies or green dinosaurs?"

Whatever Potter did in response, it made the older man chuckle and hang one of the outfits back on the miniature rack.

"Bunnies it is." As he turned, Sirius' eyes landed on Draco. "Ah, there you are. Have you picked some things out?"

Draco indicated the two shirts with a bored expression.

"Great. I grabbed some shorts and cut-off's for you and a few vests, in case we go out somewhere hotter than here."

Draco cocked an eyebrow but didn't comment on the absurdity of the idea.

"Let's get you a changing room so you can try it on."

"W-what?" Draco blanched. "Why do I need to do that here?"

"So we can see what fits you before we buy it?"

"They don't just take your measurements and get the size that fits?"

Sirius had a bemused expression on his face. "No, Draco, they don't. Just try these on. If they don't fit you, let me know and I'll get you a different size."

Draco frowned. Sirius motioned for him to turn and head towards the changing rooms. It felt like he was walking towards his doom. The last time he'd felt so much dread was when his father had called him down because the Dark Lord had wanted his attendance at a meeting during his fifth summer in Hogwarts. A chill ran down his spine, he saw black spots and the heat rushed over him, boiling his blood and making his ears ring.

His foot slipped on the glossed floor and the air rushed past him. He had a moment of panic before something hard gripped his arm. Sirius shot him a concerned look, not the infuriating displeasure he was so used to from his father. Eyes darting around, Draco tried to see how many people had witnessed his idiocy.

No one … No one had noticed.

No one was looking at them, noticed them.

It was like being invisible. For the first time in his life, Draco was close to tears with relief. Not that he'd shed them in public. Drawing in a deep breath, he shook Sirius' grip off his arm, took the items from his cousin and marched the rest of the way towards the changing rooms. He was glad there was a sign directing him otherwise he would've gotten lost.

"How many items?" the bored-looking girl asked at the small counter.

He frowned at her, sweat smeared across his skin. For a moment his mind went blank before she gestured at the items in his arms. "F-five?"

She snatched a coloured tag off the counter and handed it to him. "Men's are down the end and to the left."

Draco barely processed the directions before her attention was dragged elsewhere. If he hadn't been so humiliated at his own foolishness, he would have snapped at her sheer graceless appearance and rude manners. However, he was not in the mood. Swallowing his pride, he stalked down and to the left as instructed.

He found an empty cubicle and went inside, drawing the blue velour curtain shut behind him.

Now that he had a moment alone, he let the emotions wash through him. He huddled over on the narrow seat, his insides cramping as he dropped his head into his hands. What was he doing here in a muggle shop of all places? He needed to be amongst his own kind! He needed other wizards and magic, owls that dropped off letters and his mother asking if he'd like to join her for afternoon tea on the veranda.

This … This was a nightmare.

Choking back against the lump in his throat, he cuffed at his eyes and drew in some long breaths before steeling himself. The mirror glared back at him with red-rimmed eyes and bright pink blotches on his cheek and neck from the heat. There was a cool breeze coming from somewhere in the changing rooms. Forcing himself to his feet, Draco unfastened the buttons of his shirt and trousers and gingerly stepped out of them, folding them and setting them aside on the hard bench.

Standing in a cotton vest and boxer-shorts, he winced at his reflection; it was clear he hadn't eaten properly in months, his knees had always been a little too knobbly for his liking, and his hips and collar bones protruded a little too much. Pursing his lips, he stepped into the shorts and pulled one of the t-shirts on over his head.
He grimaced at his reflection; the fabric felt almost as cheap as it was and –despite not fully understanding muggle-money –it was clear that they over-charged for some of this rubbish. With a sigh, he reached for the next item. Within twenty minutes he was sweating profusely from pulling various items in various fabrics on over his head. That was it, he'd tried them all on and had settled on four of said five. That should shut his cousin up for the time being.

Stepping out of the changing rooms, handing the number tag and rejected item back to the snooty girl, Draco grimaced at the grin on Sirius' face as he bounced Potter in the chest-harness. "What're you grinning at?" he snapped.

"Just wondered what took you so long."

"Whatever," Draco sneered. "Where and how do I pay for this shit?"

"Relax, I'll do it. Why don't you go and wait outside?"

"No thanks," the blonde muttered, falling into step alongside his cousin as they went up to a large white desk.

Sirius handed the items over the counter and the guy behind it used some strange white tool to shine a red light on each price tag. The total flashed in green numbers on a small screen that was eye-level. When the total flashed up as £22.97, Draco had barely started working out the conversion to galleons, before Sirius thrust a bag against his chest and said a loud 'thank you!' to the person who had served them.

.

Back out on the street, Draco swept the damp hair from his face and glowered at the crowds milling by. He clutched the slippery bag in one hand, his knuckles flashing white as Sirius teased the baby snot-rag.

"So where're we going now?" Draco bit out, forcing Sirius' attention back to him for a moment. "I don't fancy getting sunburned just because you have the attention space of a gnat."

"Charming as ever," Sirius commented. "How about a bookshop. That's easy enough, isn't it?"

Draco shot his cousin a glare.

"Of course, none of the books will hand themselves to you, but they won't bite you either so … it's a win-win in some cases." Without another word, Sirius led the way towards a large bookstore. Draco didn't even bother reading the name of the shop, it wouldn't mean anything to him anyway. The air was cool, smelling of paper and ink. It had an instant calming effect on Draco as his eyes landed on the numerous shelves. Sirius nudged him forward and his feet did the rest.

He found himself wandering over to the 'Fantasy' section, intrigued by what muggles termed 'fantasy' in general, and also by how overly designed their bookcovers seemed to be. Unlike in most magical bookshops, their covers didn't move but then he'd expected that. What he hadn't expected was that their covers would be so … graphic. Feeling disturbed at being so intrigued, he bent down so that he could scan the spines. One or two books he'd pluck out, reading the back of it –really? Did muggles need to read a summary of the books they bought? –and examined the covers; some were wildly exaggerated like ones by that Prachett guy, whilst others had awful summaries and even worse cover designs like that 'Twilight' nonsense; why would he read a book about a guy who liked apples and liked blood?

He'd read scarier rhymes when he'd been an infant.

Eventually, Sirius came looking for him. Potter was starting to fuss so clearly that meant it was time to go back to Grimmauld Place. Draco felt his insides twist at the thought; he loathed to admit that he'd liked spending time in the unusually quiet book shop, simply taking his time and not making a total prat of himself. He sighed; the summer was barely beginning. There would be more than enough time to go back to the bookstore if he really wanted to.

.

Once back at the house, the wards activating as soon as they'd stepped through, Sirius flicked his wand at the door. A series of locks slid into place, flooding Draco with the realisation that he was a prisoner in this house, regardless of how he was told to view it. His palm started to sweat again from where he gripped the bag with his new, muggle clothes inside.

Vanishing the chest harness, Sirius balanced baby Potter against his hip before turning to Draco. "Why don't you go up and have a shower, hm? Then change into some fresh clothes, whilst I give Harry some lunch."

Draco nodded mutely.

"Then, if you fancy it, Kreacher can make us something to eat as well."

"Um … I'm not feeling too hungry," Draco averted his gaze. He felt emotionally exhausted and barely had the energy to stand upright as he did, let alone forced down food and make conversation at the same time. "I might just take a nap. Too much sun."

It was lame; so transparent that he knew Sirius didn't believe the words as they tumbled out. However, the older man didn't argue or berate him for his bullshit. He simply adjusted his grip on Potter, who was currently trying to eat his own fist with no teeth, and inclined his head. "Very well," Sirius said. "You know where I am if you need anything later, then."

"I do." He startd to ascend the stairs but stopped halfway to the landing. There was a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his mother snapping at him for forgetting his manners. Gripping the banister, he cleared his throat and said, "Thank you, Sirius. For taking me out today."

Sirius looked up at him, bemused, but gave a tight smile in return. "It's okay, Draco. Try and get some rest. I might have Remus and Teddy over for dinner tonight, so you're welcome to join."

A rejection was on the tip of his tongue, however he stopped himself. Swallowing past his pride Draco simply replied, "I'll think about it. If I feel better I may join you."

"Suit yourself," was Sirius' final word as he turned to go into the kitchen. Potter's wide green eyes peeked over Sirius' shoulder up at the blonde before the door swung closed between them.

Draco stared at the closed door for a while before reanimating and climbing the rest of the way towards one of the bathrooms. He needed to wash the day and humiliation off of him if he was going to attempt to face his cousin again. As the hot shower hit his naked body, Draco shuddered at the thought that one day, a very grown-up Potter would come to him and laugh at him for having nearly fainted in a muggle clothes shop.

He grit his teeth and ducked his head under the stream of water.

He needed to get out of this situation, and fast.

A/N: Who loves baby Harry yet? x