Chérie, parchments and quills
Chapter Fourteen – Concealed truths

'The cold winds were determined, he'd give mother nature that,' Harry thought, as he utilized yet another warming charm. Draco and himself, both masked under glamour charms to hide their appearance, knew that Diagon Alley would be packed, but it was brutally chaotic!

"Discourteous, uncouth prats!" Draco sneered as he was bumped into for the hundredth time. He would have been granted a wide berth had his appearance remained the one he had been born with, but it wasn't worth the verbal and physical abuse an ex-Death Eater would be subjected too. Yes, he would have been avoided by most, in fear and disgust, but those that felt justice had not met…

"I'm almost finished here Draco." Harry tried to contain his mirth, unaware of Draco's darkening thoughts. "I just need to pick up Teddy's; I promised Andromeda I'd buy him a new broom."

"Broom?" Asked Draco, his frown framing blue eyes – strange against that foreign complexion, shortened chin, and dark brown hair. "Is he hoping to make the team then?"

They weaved through the crowds of excited, last minute Christmas shoppers as they walked back up the hill to Quality Quidditch Supplies. Chatter, laughter, merchants calling out deals, and frenzied parents running after excited children... all ambient for the week leading up to Christmas.

Draco glared at anyone that dared to come too close to them – the man didn't mind crowds per se, but he hated being touched and knocked into. Harry was in the same frame of mind actually, but he had more tolerance for rambunctious crowds when they didn't know his real identity… Yes, they'd never get anything done if they knew their 'hero' was among them.

"Yeah," nodded Harry, "he wants to try out for the chaser position that will open up after the summer. Mylo Yarwood is a seventh year so he won't be here next year."

They passed a crowd of rosy-cheeked children, pressed up close against the windows of 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' with their gloved covered hands. Their innocent faces stared longingly at the brightly animated products on display in the charmed windows - charmed to snow over the various merchandise within, where the assortment of goods popped, cracked, flashed, bounced, and shrieked. Harry smiled at the ooh's' and 'wow's' and other exclamations of amazement and wonder, but his smile turned sombre as he remembered Fred…

George and Angelina had worked hard to maintain the Wesley business, and it was blooming… literally. They'd stopped in earlier to wish them both a Merry Christmas, and they'd brought a few things for the older Weasley children there too.

"Why not buy it for his birthday then…" Draco's voice tore Harry away from his thoughts, "wasn't he born in April?"

"He was, yeah…" Harry paused as he heard the shrill voice of a frazzled mother, demanding her son come away from the window as they had lots to get done, "…but he wants to practice. Hufflepuff have some great players this year…" Harry had to pause again, to let a herd of giggling girls pass by with their Christmas shopping. He found himself pressed up close to a warm body… Draco's body – unchanged, unlike his glamoured facial features. Draco's hand gripped his shoulder as the man glared at the 'impertinent' females.

Harry's heart wilted as he moved away from the man to continue on up the hill – he really had fallen hopeless in love with Draco Malfoy.

"You were saying?" Draco drawled, still bitter that their conversation had been rudely interrupted. Harry was so jubilant and joyous today despite the crowds, and even though the man hadn't stopped talking up a storm, he rather enjoyed listening to him; It was good to see Harry so frivolous, instead of over worked and stressed. "About Teddy, and that Hufflepuff have good players this year."

"Ah, right, yeah… erm … he's worried that he won't be good enough to get in. Andromeda only had enough to buy him a second-hand broom, so he only has his Nimbus 2000."

"Does he no longer feel the Nimbus 2000 to be satisfactory?" Draco was curious about his cousin – well, first cousin once removed – and he had yet to really speak to Andromeda beyond letters.

"He loves that broom!" Harry exclaimed, defensively. Draco made a note that Harry's relationship with Teddy was obviously close. "He doesn't know I'm getting him a new one," Harry continued, "but the Nimbus modules have been out dated by the Firebolts and the Volant series. You know that."

"Ah, I see." Draco nodded… yes, he did indeed know that. It made sense now that he thought about it; many Brooms had been released since the Nimbus 2000 was made in 1991. Had it already been nearly twenty years since then?

When they reached Quality Quidditch Supplies, Draco opened the door for Harry. The festive wreath rocked as the door moved, and Harry thanked Draco before walking into the warmth of the store. It wasn't the changed in temperature that heated his cheeks though, but the gesture of Draco getting yet another door for him today. He wondered if Draco even realised that he was doing it.

"Teddy never asks for anything," Harry elaborated, "he's a good kid, and he understands that Andromeda only has so much money." They approached the desk to join the queue – only one person in front of them, a blond-haired lady in a fur coat just concluding her sale with the cashier. They were lucky, the shop seemed to be rather full with shoppers.

"He'd never ask for something so expensive," Harry continued, "but we know he'd love to have one from the Volant series. He stares at the models in the windows and talks passionately about them. We thought about getting him a Firebolt or an earlier Volant model, but he deserves a Volant 360 and the latest model will last him longer. I know he'll take good care of it – he does with his Nimbus, and It's not like I can't afford it. We don't usually spend so much on him, but this year Andy gave me the go ahead."

"Volant brooms?" The young male shop assistant asked them when it was their turn to be served. He looked uneasy, and he'd obviously overheard Harry mentioning them.

"Yeah, I placed an order a few weeks back," Harry explained as he moved closed to the checkout, "I've come to collect it if that's okay. It's under the name Teddy Tonks."

"Oh, thank Merlin," the shop assistant visibly relaxed. "You have no idea how many customers I've had to turn away today. All our brooms are out of stock." He pulled out a thick leather book, red, and flipped through the pages. "We only have the brooms that have been pre-ordered left." He flipped another page, running his finger over the names, "Teddy you say? Tonks?"

"Yes, that's right." Harry nodded.

"AH! Here it is!" The young man exclaimed, joyfully; his shoulder-length brown hair flicked back as he lifted his head. "I'll be right back."

Draco couldn't help but smile as he watched Harry; the 'golden boy' rocked on the balls of his feet, smiling happily back at him before browsing the store with his glamoured brown eyes as they waited. His feelings … what were they? Festive contagions simply snaring him up into the wave of sentimentality? A growing fondness? Affection? Endearment? Salazar! He couldn't afford to fall for Potter! No, he could never be with the man that England loved and worshiped and he had Padfoot regardless. He would just have to be aware, deny and refuse to let his feeling grow deeper then that of friendship, and focus on his smitten feelings for Padfoot.

They left the Quidditch shop about twenty minutes later with a new broom, gloves, and a broom care kit. Harry shivered as they stepped into the cold, and Draco reapplied their warming charms.

"Thanks," Harry smiled shyly, quickly continuing on, "right, the last stop is a muggle store called Argos. I need to get Arthur's gift."

"Muggle store?" Draco asked with a deep frown, ignoring Harry's reaction to his magic.

"Yes, he enjoys all things muggles. I thought I'd get him a battery-operated light this year, Oh, and see if I can find him an education book on something muggle related. He already has books on electricity, muggle transport, aeroplanes, appliances, plumbing, and locking mechanism if I remember correctly. Oh, and he has books on famous muggle inventors, and lighting." Harry rambled.

"You completely lost me at battery and ektricity." Draco said, bemused.

It was obvious to Draco, just how much joy it gave Harry to buy gifts for his family and friends. At one point in Draco's life, this would have been an inconceivable concept… giving for the sake of giving and nothing more… but since the war, he had come to appreciate the gesture. It made him wonder, again, if Harry would appreciate the gift that he'd brought from him, a small gift that lay in his desk draw back at Hogwarts. He hoped that it wasn't too personal, hoped that it wouldn't give of the wrong message.

"Come on!" Harry laughed. "I'll show you. Just transfigure your robe into a coat, your trousers and shirt are fine in the muggle world."

Harry took Draco's hand and pulled him toward the brick-wall – a magical wall that would take them back though the Leaky Cauldron and into muggle London. Harry planned to send his current purchases home with Kreacher once they'd entered the pub.

If Draco's heart rate sped up, if his breath hitched and stomach flipped at the contact of Harry hand … he ignored it.

Draco kept frowning down at his dark navy-blue jacket that Harry had transfigured for him in the end, seeing as Draco kept going for trench coats that still resembled robes far too much. Draco was hesitant to admit it, but he rather liked it. Harry claimed that he wore too much black, and honestly… he rather liked the dark blue.

A random desire to wear some colour took him by surprise, he always wore black, white or grey, but he found himself wishing to please Harry. What on earth did that say about his loyalty to Padfoot, wanting to bring a smile to another man's lips … but surely… perhaps… it wouldn't hurt to appease Harry's desire to see him in blue… or any colour out of the normal for him? It was just his choice of apparel; it wasn't like he was choosing to date the man.

"He we are!" Harry exclaimed, making Draco jump. He had visited muggle towns since the war, for curiosities sake, but not enough to grow accustomed to the vehicles and unusual noises. A kid on a skateboard had nearly scared the magic out of him a while ago, speeding past within half an inch of his life, and jumping down the drop curb with a bang.

"Thank Salazar,"Draco sighed, looking up at the blue top section with red letters forming the word 'Argos'.

Draco watched as Harry flipped through a catalogue, chose what he wanted, and went to the queue to pay. Draco couldn't contain his curiosity, he lingered by the catalogues and scanned through all the goods for sale with a bemused interested; Televisions, cameras, phones, headphones, microwaves, vacuum cleaners, fridge freezers, toasters, mixers, blenders, bedding, furniture, lighting, tableware… and then some. He knew what bedding and furniture and tableware was, but… a toilet seat that had multicoloured lights? Wonders never ceased!

"Just have to wait a while for my order to come down." Harry's voice made Draco jump.

Draco looked back down at the catalogue. "Explain to me, why do…" His lips brushed Harry's ear as he whispered, making Harry shiver, "…muggles have multicoloured toilet seats?" He pointed to the image.

Harry laughed out loud, "It's novelty, not so much for practicality but for… decoration, I guess. I guess some people just like their…" It was Harry's turn to whisper, "their genitals to change colour while they… you know." Harry tried to stifle his mirth so that they didn't draw attention to themselves, but Draco's face didn't make it easy. The glamoured blue eyes that looked at him were squinted in disgust, and a wrinkled noes told Harry Draco's opinion on the item. "It probably makes their bathroom look cool too." He shrugged as he chuckled.

Draco had taken a free catalogue from Argos, and he was still turning the pages in curiosity as they walked through London looking for a book store. Harry couldn't help but smile each time Draco asked another question.

"What is solar lightning?" Draco asked as they entered a large book store - Foyles.

"Erm, it is like… Okay, remember what I said about batteries?" Harry asked, looking for a section on technology or human advancement. The store was huge, multi levelled, and dazzled up with festive decorations like everywhere else.

"That they store power somehow?" Draco asked, not understanding how the muggles had managed to do that. He walked into the back of Harry as the man suddenly stopped in front of what looked like metal doors.

"Erm, yeah." Harry frowned in though of how best to explain. "They hold a certain amount of power… like energy. Once it runs out, the battery is useless. Well some batteries can actually be re-charged, which means that… you can fill them with energy again."

Ding!

Those metal doors opened of their own, making Draco jump. Harry walked inside the strange metal box… did he expect him to follow?

"Come on. It's just an elevator. It takes us upstairs." Harry explained, smirking as Draco slowly entered to lift. Harry took his finger off the hold door button, pressed for level three, and went silent as the doors closed.

Draco gasped as the lift moved upwards, but he also noticed how Harry's hands fidgeted, how quiet he had become. "Is it safe?" He asked.

"Yeah! Yeah, it's perfectly safe," Harry said, "We'll be there in a sec."

"Why are you so nervous if it is so safe?" Draco asked.

"I just don't like closed spaces much." Harry said no more on the subject, the lifted 'dinged', the doors opened and Harry sped out and into the non-fiction section of the library.

Draco filed it away in the 'strange things about Harry' section of his mind for later. He knew a lot about Harry – his favourite foods and drinks, his hobbies, his sleeping habits, his tendency to skip meals, the way he rubbed at the back of his neck when embarrassed, and the way he bit the left side of his lip when thinking… but he hadn't known that Harry was claustrophobic. Well, that begged the question… why hadn't they just taken the stairs?

Draco followed Harry, the question regarding solar lightning forgotten, and he watched as Harry browsed the books. He wanted to ask Harry about the elevator, ask him why he didn't take the stairs and instead choose to put himself in an uncomfortable position, but he didn't feel right about asking him here – it wasn't the time or place.

Harry eventually picked up a book that he seemed to like – 'Medicine today', Draco read on the spine. "What's that?" He asked, deciding to forget about the elevator for now.

"It educates the reader on the advancement of medical related tools and practices. Like this," Harry turned the book for Draco to see, "this is what they used to do in the middle ages." Harry pointed to the section that explained the process of cauterization – how they would burn a wound to prevent bleeding and infection.

"That's barbaric Potter!" Draco squealed. "Muggles did that?"

"Shh! And yes. They don't have magic to utilize, so they did what they had to do to stay alive." Harry turned the page where it explained the modern-day practice. "This is what we do now."

Draco hesitated, but he took the book and read on. It wasn't as bad, but then he read the part about stitches and blanched in horror. "They sew people up?"

"It's not that bad Draco, even I've had stitches." Harry chuckled.

"Tell me you're joking Potter!" Draco shuddered.

"Nope. I was…" Harry hesitated, deciding a lie by omission couldn't hurt. "When I was eight, I fell over at school. I was outside, my leg scraped across the steps I was climbing up. The school had to call an ambulance to take me to hospital. I ended up needing four stitches in my left shin, just below my knee. The cut was really deep." Harry finished his story and images of what actually happened flashed into his mind…

"Freak!" Dudley yelled, waddling up behind him as he climbed the three concern stairs to the play ground level of his primary school.

He tried to hurry, to run away from Dudley and his two vicious friends, run, quick, get away… but he hadn't heard them approach him, and they were too close now. He was shoved, forcefully with the force of a small whale, and he fell as he went to take the last step at a hurry.

His shin scraped painfully against the jagged edge of the concrete top step, cutting into his skin and ripping his school uniform. OH! Oh no… Aunt Petunia would be so cross with him for ripping his second-hand, bagging, hand-me-down trousers.

He was about to yell at Dudley, not that it would have helped, but then a foot collided with his stomach and he toppled down the three concrete steps.

"TEACH!" One of Dudley's friends suddenly yelled. They hurried off and left him there silently crying.

"…ry, Harry?" Draco knew that Harry was in one of his mind hazy episodes, but it worried him. What had trigger it this time? Was he just remembering having his leg sewed up? Could it be that 'stitches' were, despite what Harry said, just as horrible as he assumed?

"Sorry Draco, I – I think I'll just get this book for Arthur." Harry said, not wanting to talk about the place his mind had just taken him too. He hurried back to the elevators, tapped the book as he waited for the 'ding', and fidgeted again as they went down.

"Listen Harry, I don't want to pry, but… are you alright?" Draco asked.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm fine." Harry nodded, giving Draco a small smile.

Draco decided to drop the subject for now, Harry obviously didn't want to talk about it, but something was troubling the man. It was another thing to file away in his mind.

Silence feel between them, the Christmas music quietly resumed playing in the background of the book shop as they exited the elevator. They made their way to the queue so Harry could pay for Arthur's gift, and the customers talked as they proceeded to brows the thousands of books on sale, but Harry couldn't help but remember the way his Aunt had sent him to his cupboard when they got home…

Petunia had screeched at him for being so clumsy, because of course, he would have been in worse trouble had he accused Dudley of shoving him. She had only shoved a slice of dry bread at him that evening, a toddler sized cup of water because he walked and behaved liked one, and apart from a single trip to the bathroom before she went up to bed, he was in there until the morning when he had to go to school again.

"How many Weasley's are there?" Draco asked, blinking in disbelief when Harry panicked that he'd forgotten the baby. "What baby?"

"Ginny's baby! Oh Merlin, she'll kill me if I forget Kaison!"

"Harry calm down!" Draco told him. They had just got back to the Harry's private rooms at Hogwarts with all the shopping. "It's only the 22nd, we can go and get something tomorrow."

"I'm on hall duty tomorrow!" Harry paced the room. "Fuck!"

Draco grabbed Harry's arms to stop him from wearing a hole in the carpet, and suddenly he was facing desperate, pleading green eyes. Without the glamours … fuck! Why the fuck did Potter have such attractive eyes!

"Potter, listen. Have a coffee, a whiskey for Merlin's sake! And calm the fuck down! You're a Gryffindor with Slytherin traits for Salazar's sake!" Draco was practically shaking Harry by this point, perhaps annoyed that Potter was getting under his skin and into his heart, but he let go of Harry's arms before he hurt the man. "Just … just sit down and think. Check you haven't missed anyone else and … If Minerva can't let you rush out to buy what you need tomorrow, then … I'll go for you if you're amenable to that. I don't think I have any duties beyond being available for any student that need my assistance… I'm sure I can deflect them to you for a few hours."

Harry eventually slumped into one of the armchairs. "You'd do that for me? You'd go into Diagon Alley and buy a baby gift?"

"You're the one that keeps insisting that friends help each other out… Unless you wish to demote said friendship to simply colleagues I–"

"Fuck no!" Harry blurted out just before a blush darkened his cheeks, "I mean, of course not!"

Draco almost sighed in relief; his feelings for Harry were like weeds, ruthless and persistent, unwanted and difficult to eradicate, they would only strangle Harry: Harry deserved better, and he would remain loyal to Padfoot… Padfoot! Perhaps it would be wise to ask Padfoot to meet him… if his feelings for the mystery man could indeed be true for the real man behind the parchment, then … perhaps his relentless growing feelings for Harry would abate, cease. It would also stop whatever ridiculous feelings Harry had started to develop for him, because Merlin… Harry's reaction to revoking their friendship had been almost passionately decisive, fearful even.

"Draco?" Harry was standing in front of him … When had he stood up? "Draco, don't be an arse, I, fuck!"

Draco watched as Harry removed his glasses and rubbed the space between his eyes. What was going through that mind of his?

"If you'll help me check I have everyone's gifts except Kaison's," said Harry, "I'd really appreciate it. And … if you would pick up something for me tomorrow, I'd owe you one."

Harry said nothing else, he simple walked over to the small kitchenette, and with wandless magic he started boiling some water for the coffee.

"I can do that." Draco nodded. He was glad that Harry had moved on with the conversation, that he'd calmed down and accepted his help, but what was left unsaid was like the dragon in the room; it was unmissable, hot and blazing for notice, and it wouldn't be easily removed.

They had shared an entire day in each other's company, and Salazar … their companionship had been easy, right, and radiant. Harry never judged him, never accused him, never reminded him of the errors of his past… they had just enjoyed each other's presence. Draco couldn't remember the last time he had felt so at peace in anyone's company, he'd almost forgotten who he was – Draco Malfoy, an ex-Death Eater!

"Are you okay, Draco?" Harry suddenly asked.

"Yes, Potter." His answer was a little snappish. Harry raised his eyebrows at the irritated way he'd responded, handing him a cup of coffee all the same. "Thank-you Harry," he amended, "well, you best get some parchment and make that list then. The Weasley's breed like rabbits, I'm surprised you only forgot one gift to be honest."

Harry chuckled; he knew exactly what that translated to: Let's change the subject because this is getting awkward, but I am impressed that you can even remember all of your adoptive family members.

"Twenty-three?" Draco repeated, "Twenty-three?"

"Yes Draco, there are now twenty-three members of my adoptive family." Harry chuckled, "remind me not to try and do all the Weasley's in one day next year."

"Bloody hell Potter, how do you keep up?" Draco shook his head, sipped at his coffee and handed the list back to Harry. "Never mind. What do you wish me to pick up for Kaison tomorrow?"

"I think Bouncing Bantlings have a few quidditch themed baby toys. I remember seeing wooden blocks with moving images of snitches and brooms and the like." Harry paused to think, "I'd avoid clothes, I think Kaison has enough to last him five years. A few books wouldn't hurt, but remember, he is only thirteen-months old."

"So, wooden quidditch blocks, and books for a one-year old?" Draco confirmed.

"Mm hmm," Harry agreed through the last of his coffee. "If you see something else that you think is good then grab that too … you sure this is okay though Draco? I'm sure that–"

"It's fine! I think I can handle a few baby gifts."

"Well, if you're unsure, just ask the shop assistant for help. It might be a good idea to check that everything you pick up is suitable for a thirteen-month old baby regardless… just to be safe you know, and it will be fine if it's for an eighteen-month-old even, he can grow into it, but don't–"

"Potter! You're rambling." Draco interrupted him. "I know what I'm doing."

"Right!" Harry chuckled bashfully, rubbing at the back of his reddening neck.

Draco found himself watching the skin on Harry's neck flush in embarrassment, and his lips tingled with a sudden desire to press into it, to taste and mould into that neck. He wanted it, wanted to do it, but it would be a terrible idea. He had to get out of here to clear his head because… fuck! Potter was beginning to look like a dancing bar of luxurious chocolate, and his heart was in need of a serious scolding for its preposterous behaviour today.

"I best get going Harry," Draco announce as he stood up, "I'll visit Diagon Alley in the morning and catch up with you when I get back."

"Oh, okay then." Harry nodded, but Draco heard the disappointment in his voice. It was only about six o'clock, and he usually stuck around until later in the evening if they weren't overloaded with homework to grade.

"It's about six o'clock Harry, Minerva will wonder where we are if we don't turn up for dinner."

"She gave as the day off remember; I doubt she's expecting us to turn up now." Harry smiled, but he looked away. He wanted to say something…

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow." Draco said, making his way to the door to let himself out.

"Draco!" Harry called to him, catching him in the door way and grabbing his wrist to turn him around. "Why don't you eat here, I'll get Kreacher to–"

"Don't Potter!" Draco pulled back his wrist. "Don't ruin what we have!" His eyes pleaded as they met Harry's begging green ones. "Don't! Nothing can happen between us… I have Padfoot, and you're–"

"What if Padfoot wasn't … what if he didn't exist?" Harry asked.

Screaming, kicking, and blazing with an inferno of obvious, were the words that neither dared speak. The troll in the room, the lump in their throats, the heart beats almost loud enough to hear…

"I-I don't, I don't know Harry." Draco cursed himself for the stutter. "It doesn't matter regardless, because he does exist." Silence… Green eyes that glossed over. "Don't Potter, just don't!"

"Right." Harry nodded, noticing the growing sting of his eyes.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Draco said as moved into the corridor, he turned to say something else but…

"Goodnight Draco."

…and before Draco could respond, Harry had shut the door.

Harry knew he was being ludicrous, Padfoot and himself were the same fucking person, but … he couldn't lie to himself – he'd wanted Draco to choose him, the real him. What was worse, he knew Draco would kill him for not be honest sooner, fuck! What had he done? Draco was infatuated with Padfoot, and he'd rejected him – Harry.

He had to come clean, and soon! It wasn't fair on Draco to believe in a man that didn't exist, and it would be less painful for himself to know where he stood after the truth came out. If Draco didn't asked Padfoot to meet him over Christmas, he would ask him himself in the New Year.