The sun is already starting to set by the time Luna is satisfied she has found all the treasures the shops have to offer. She was still full of energy and she couldn't wait to find someone to show her new finds off too. But Harry and Draco had run out of fuel hours ago, and all that had kept them going was Luna's excitement. Now that they're back on the estate, they're both about to keel over and pass out though.

"I'm freezing!" Harry blows into his hands, his fingers numb by now and his toes… well, he stopped feeling those hours ago. "How about a drink to get warmed up? The bar should be open by now."

"Oh," Draco chuckles a little uncomfortably, and Harry immediately regrets asking. Of course he's not interested in having a drink with him, why would he be? "I don't drink."

"A coffee, then? Or a hot chocolate?"

Harry kicks himself for asking, because hadn't Draco been drinking last night during dinner? Or had he? Now that he thinks about it, he doesn't actually remember.

"A hot chocolate would be nice." Draco nods, his nose by now having turned dark red.

It makes him look adorable, Harry thinks. Although he quickly shakes off the thought, because there is nothing adorable about Draco Malfoy, and this just proves that he could really do with a hot drink, because the cold must have already gotten to his brain if he can think something like that.

They go into the main building, and where this morning they had had to make do with coffee and tea from a machine, this time the bar is open. Harry had spotted the Christmas drinks menu this morning already, but it still takes him forever to decide what he wants.

"Too much choice, huh?" Draco smiles knowingly. "Want me to pick one for you?"

The offer makes Harry feel oddly uncomfortable, so he quickly decides on the peppermint coffee, while Draco orders an orange hot chocolate.

"Why don't you sit down? I'll wait," Harry offers, more so they don't have to stand there awkwardly waiting together than anything, and he's relieved when Draco walks off to find them a table by the window.

Harry adds a few Christmas cookies and slices of cake to their order, as he's not sure about Draco, but he sure is starting to feel hungry, as it's been a few hours since they had lunch. He can feel his cheeks grow warm when he sees that the cookies are heart-shaped, but he's sure that Draco will understand that he simply picked the Christmas flavours, and that he didn't actually buy him heart-shaped cookies on purpose.

Draco chuckles when he sees them though, but he's polite enough not to say anything but a thank you.

"So… you and Luna?" Harry asks as he picks up a cookie. He nearly chokes on it when he sees Draco's face though.

"Luna and I?" Draco laughs. "Please tell me you aren't suggesting what I think you are."

"I wasn't!" Harry quickly says. "I just… it seemed like you were friends, but Luna never mentioned seeing you, so…"

"I hadn't seen her until yesterday," Draco explains, shivering when he wraps his cold hands around the mug of hot chocolate. "So there is no… Luna and I," he chuckles, shaking his head. "I haven't seen the Weasleys, or your friends since… well, you were there."

Harry remembers last seeing Draco, back when they were just teenagers, and he remembers how ashamed and small the young man had looked. Harry had almost felt sorry for him. Almost, until he remembered all the horrible things he had done, the things he had said. That day they had all been emotional, and he wasn't willing to accept that Draco was a victim too. So they had parted, Harry feeling nothing but hate for him. Of course over the years his feelings had changed, and he could start to put things in perspective, but he didn't think he could do this; spend the day shopping with the man, or have a chat over coffee.

"Where do you live nowadays?"

"London," Draco laughs. "Muggle London. I hardly ever use magic nowadays, and I worked… work in a bakery."

"Wow," Harry laughs, shocked to hear just how much Draco changed. Giving up magic and living like a Muggle? Who would have thought.

"I quite like it," Draco admits. "It's nice. It's anonymous."

Harry can see the softness on Draco's face, and it makes him wonder what exactly brought on this huge change. He feels like it's too personal to ask though, but when Draco starts telling, he is all ears.

"After I lost my parents, I was angry," Draco explains. "I hated my father, I even hated my mother for staying with him and wasting her life…" He shrugs, before taking a sip of his chocolate. His cheeks flushing as he wipes the whipped cream off his nose. "I decided to move to London and start over. I didn't want to end up like my parents."

"And how did you get into baking?"

"Well, my flat is above the bakery, so when I moved in and I saw they were hiring, I told them I'd been baking all my life."

"And they believed you?" Harry laughs, before grabbing another cookie.

"They did. I practiced every night in my little kitchen, and I think I managed to get away with it." Draco takes another sip, a warm and satisfied smile on his face as he clearly enjoys the drink. "I enjoy it, you know? Out there they don't know who I am, or…" He shrugs again, the 'What I've done' lingering in the air. "Anyway, what do you do nowadays?"

"I'm a writer," Harry says, his heart skipping a beat. It still makes him nervous to say this out loud, and it had taken him years to tell his friends.

"Of… novels?"

Harry gives a nod, quickly shoving the rest of the cookie in his mouth to give him some time to try and calm his nerves down. "It was easiest, with us moving around a lot for Ginny's work, and then with me looking after the kids…"

"I don't remember hearing about any of your novels," Draco points out, a confused look on his face. Because surely if the Harry Potter had released a novel, everyone would know about it, wouldn't they?

"I didn't use my own name," Harry admits.

"Makes sense. So, would I have read anything that you have written?"

"I doubt it." Harry shrugs, "They weren't very good," he quickly adds, hoping that that will be the end of it. To tell Draco that he is a writer already makes him so embarrassed and nervous that he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. To tell him what novels are his, and possibly have him have read them? He doubts he would ever be able to face him again.

"I always assumed you would end up teaching," Draco admits, clearly sensing how uncomfortable Harry is talking about his writing and being gracious enough to move on to another subject.

"Really?"

"Is that so odd?"

"I'm not sure," Harry says, feeling his face go warm, but not sure why. Perhaps because this man whom he hasn't seen for years guessed his dream job, whereas his own wife had no idea, and even brushed off the idea when he had brought it up.

Draco picks up one of the slices of cake, and he quietly picks at it - that same, soft smile on his face that he had earlier. Harry can't stop watching him, trying to hide behind his mug as much as he can - his eyes glued to the other man. He had always found him so cold and so harsh, but this man makes him feel warm inside. He feels an affection for him which he can't quite explain. Part of him still feels sorry for him because of everything he was put through as a child, but this feels different. This is a feeling that goes deeper, and he can feel it in every fibre of his being. He felt it when he saw him running around in the snow with Albus and Scorpius' pup, when he saw him huddled up in his big crimson sweater, when he found him having tea this morning. He can't put his finger on it, or put a word to it, but after spending so many years with Ginny - after spending the last years trying to fight for a love that was no longer there - he has to admit that he feels good when he's around Draco. He feels awkward, and nervous to say the wrong thing, but it only reminds him of when he first started dating Ginny, and something about the feeling makes him want to spend more time with the man to find out just why he is making him feel this way.

Something about this feeling almost makes him wish things between them had been different when they were younger. That they had spent time together like this after the war, getting to know each other. Who knows what would have come of it?