The owls did enjoy the break, it turned out. They were certainly more affectionate with Draco now they weren't constantly off on their errands answering his mother's letters or Draco's meetings with his manager. In fact the damn thing started liking Draco so much it started appearing outside his window.
He knew he never should have started giving it treats.
"You can't stay in here," He told it for the fifth time, carrying it on his arm all the way back to its perch downstairs. "That's my room, and you've lived here long enough it's never been available to you before."
The owl stared blankly at him, no doubt planning to fly back to his room as soon as he turned his back. Which it did. Again and again it did until Draco was too tired to take it back and merely left it tapping at his window.
It tried again the next day. Then the next. Quite frankly Draco was happy when the summons came to go back to work since it meant he wasn't reduced to arguing with an owl for something to do during the day.
It felt good to be back on the pitch. Freeing. He hadn't realised just how tightly wound he'd been until he was being whacked in the head with a bludger.
"Ow," he held the ice pack up to let the mediwitch do her thing. Then promptly accepted the laps around the pitch for not having his attention on the pitch.
It was a grueling three months after that. He trained, he went home, he slept, he woke up in pain and thought maybe to have a bath but never did before turning up to the pitch again for another round of training.
But he wasn't sorry for it. Not at all.
Not when he went home and found his face staring up at him from the Prophet alongside his teammates as the spring season was finally announced. Not when he got his first letter from Teddy with words that he definitely had aunt Andromeda help him with telling Draco he was a 'superstar'. Not when he finally was able to sleep at night because he was too exhausted to do anything else.
This was good. Better than he ever hoped for.
The season kicked off alright. They were starting from scratch which meant no one was riding on their victories. Or, his team wasn't. He felt a little more comfortable this time around too, sitting on the reserves as everyone did their jobs. Comfortable enough to actually listen to Wood when he started on his own Christmas in between commentary about the match.
"It was a little sad. I mean, there were still a load of empty chairs. But it was better than last year- oh come on! Foul! Get him ref!"
Empty chairs. "I quite liked how small our Christmas was. My aunt had us around and I watched telly all day. It was good."
Wood's head whipped around along with several other people. "Your aunt?" One of them muttered.
Oh. "No. Andromeda. My- my mother has two sisters." Damn. "Er, her daughter was married to that Lupin fellow. He taught at Hogwarts?"
Wood seemed to have been present for that year since he nodded, relaxing a little. "Thought you meant…"
Yeah. Draco knew exactly who he meant. "No. She never would have had a telly."
His joke fell flat with everyone.
It took a good couple of minutes before attention was back on the game, the rest of their time in the box spent in pure silence.
As if to prove to themselves, too, that Draco had been telling the truth, he saw a few people linger outside of the changing rooms as Draco's mother and aunt came down to get him. He saw the way they tensed, how they noticed Andromeda's resemblance to… but they also saw the differences too, one by one all of them heading in.
His mother seemed to have noticed the attention, giving him a forced smile as she hugged him, "Everything alright?"
He gripped his broom a little tighter, "Fine. We were just talking about Christmas."
Her smile fell, her hand rubbing up one of his arms, "It's going to take a while," she offered, she, at least, probably knowing about the empty chairs nearly everyone had these days at big gatherings.
He gripped his broom so tight his hand started hurting, his thoughts going blank for a moment before sorting themselves out again. "Can we go?"
She nodded, leading him over to where Teddy was trying to sit himself in a wet puddle.
The second game of the season went a bit better. Everyone had time in training to get over the fact he was a former Death Eater. Again. Or they at least thought winning was more important since they didn't treat him with outright hostility. Not like some of the other teams still did. Things were amiable in the reserves box once more.
Until the fourth game of the season rolled around.
All Draco heard from the moment he walked into practice that last morning before the match up until actual kick off the next day were "Did you hear?" "I can't believe it!" "He's actually coming to one of our matches." "I trained him myself you know." "We should try and scout him before he goes back to school, invite him to a training session."
Potter.
He should have known at some point Potter would be at a Quidditch match. He'd just rather hoped it wasn't one of his. Or, at least, he didn't know until after the game was over and they both could pretend that neither one of them knew the other was there.
He felt like he was in school all over again as he heard people make up wild imagined stories about Potter. About how he'd taken on a basilisk and defeated it in under a minute in second year. Partly true, just, Draco highly doubted it took under a minute. How Potter was one of the greatest wizards to ever live despite the fact Draco knew he was subpar at everything that wasn't defence and even with his extensive knowledge of defence had only three spells on his duelling rota. How Potter was so great. So handsome. It got to the point Draco literally couldn't stand to be around his teammates and spent the entire match leaning against the crowd box to drown out their talking.
When the match was over, and Puddlemere won, since of course they did, Draco wasn't playing, he'd never been happier in his life to trudge to the training rooms. Dinner couldn't come quick enough.
Except then he walked out, and as was his luck Potter was standing just there .
It was a trial and a half not to let his lip curl up. This was the man who had cut his Christmas nap short. Who had also saved his life and Draco wasn't one to forget things like that. Or the fact he was currently still carrying a wand that could very well have still been in Potter's possession if the man had willed it.
If he were honest with himself, he wasn't even all that bothered about seeing Potter. It was more he was bothered about Potter seeing him. Draco didn't have it in him to fight anymore. He didn't want trouble, he'd finally gotten something out of his life he could work with. He didn't need Potter stirring all that up with a few misplaced words.
So when Draco walked out and saw Potter, he made an effort not to interact. He just sidestepped around him and walked off to where he saw his mother. She hugged him tight as soon as he was in reach, seeming to drag him away as fast as she could. He didn't fight it.
"What was he even doing there?" Draco wondered later as he struggled through a steak. "I thought he was finishing school."
His mother levelled him with a look, "It's easter sweetheart."
Right. He remembered going home for easter a few times. Still, "That doesn't explain why he was at the match." It wasn't even a big match. No finals or semi finals. What was Potter doing there?
"Maybe he supports Puddlemere," his mother suggested.
Draco shook his head, "Don't think so." Somewhere that didn't click right. He vaguely remembered Potter and Weasley always sporting orange colours whenever it came to Quidditch season. "I think they're Cannon fans."
"Then I honestly don't know."
Except Wood did. At next practice Wood told everyone he'd sent the tickets out as an incentive to Harry to maybe come and see what being professional would be like. "I mean we got Malfoy, we may as well try and get Potter too. Then we'd be unstoppable," the man finished, a dreamy look in his eye.
"Except then I'd probably be sacked," Draco huffed. "There's no way anyone's putting Potter as anything less than a Seeker."
Wood didn't look too disappointed. Neither did the others who were listening in. Except with Wood that was because, "We'll just bump you up to chaser then. You're a versatile player Malfoy. It's one of the reasons you got this job."
Which he supposed had some truth in it. He was put in for chaser during training just as much as seeker, the only problem was when it came to games the chasers got knocked out more than the seeker. If Draco had been on reserve for chaser he definitely would have been playing more by now.
"So is he coming then?" Scott asked. "Potter? You asked him to the training session right?"
"I did indeed," Wood gloated. "And he is indeed. He should be here around nine. I said he could watch for a little bit, talk to Peters, see if he wants to join in then we'll have a friendly this afternoon."
Joy.
There was no time to brace himself however since as soon as Wood finished speaking Peters was out and telling them to warm up. Draco didn't argue with that.
He was on his eighth lap when he spied someone new in the stadium. It didn't take a genius to figure it was Potter. He was standing to the side, sure enough talking with Peters. He put a bit more oomph into his strides after that, he wasn't going to be shown up. He'd worked hard for this. He wasn't going to let Potter bump him out, no matter what Wood said about him being versatile.
He put his all into warming up, which meant he was well and truly exhausted before they even got on their brooms. Luckily he was used to working through it, so he hung back a little higher than the others and rested his poor body long enough for him to do his drills flawlessly.
When they touched down for lunch he'd never eaten so fast so he could spend the rest of it lying on one of the benches feeling sorry for himself. Dramatic maybe but he'd just done a hundred push ups in under two minutes and his arms were hurting. He deserved a break.
The afternoon went much like the morning. He was forced to do physical exercise until he wanted to cry, then he was put on a broom and told to do one maneuver or another until he could do it in his sleep.
Only when there was no way any player had any energy left did Peters announce a game, and just as Draco knew this day would go, bright eyed and rested Potter was playing seeker. If Peters wasn't promising Draco's resignation in favour of getting Potter to sign by the end of the match he'd be surprised.
As it was, he rested his head in his hands and willed himself to pay attention. He could do this. He wasn't even playing seeker, so he could definitely do- "Oi Peters! Why don't we put Malfoy on seeker? Make it a bit more familiar to Potte-"
He got Wood in the chest with his elbow. "Shut up!" He'd play chaser. He'd happily play chaser. Then at least Peters had nothing to compare him to. He hadn't been at Hogwarts with them after all.
Yet the damage had been done. Peters had heard Wood, which meant after a small conversation with Potter, and a grin Draco had to force himself not to punch off that damn scarhead, he was facing Potter twenty feet off the ground and waiting for the whistle to blow.
He refused to look Potter's way. He'd been trained not to after all, and instead concentrated on the game starting below him. Potter didn't feel the same way however, "No insults?" he asked.
"No." Draco wasn't rising to it. His freaking job was on the line here.
"Shame," Potter sighed, "It would really feel like Hogwarts then."
His hands tightened on his broom, Draco seeing a jerk from Potter's way before he concentrated once more on the game.
A good thing too since Potter zoomed off a few moments later, Draco closing his eyes before following on.
Idiot.
He blocked Potter every chance he could, always one eye on the game and the other on the snitch. It was hard going, Potter really was a prodigy. But, he was used to school Quidditch, meaning he didn't know the points to winning ratio. Draco did, and while he could have just let Potter go off and catch the snitch and tell everyone later he made a strategic decision that would have still ended up with his team winning, he didn't. Like he said, his job was on the line here.
So he blocked Potter. He damn well stalked him across the pitch, pulling up the idiots dives short and maybe attempting to lead him into a bludger.
Only when Draco heard the fifty points for his own team be called off did he block Potter one more time and make his own go at the snitch.
It was a little surreal what happened next. He honestly didn't remember most of it now he was on the other end. All he knew was that he had a little golden ball fluttering in his palm and his team were cheering. Potter looked a little shocked too, the pair of them slowly landing.
Naturally Draco's win wasn't the talk of the day however. He won, but it was Potter's flying that had drew everyone's attention. "Those dives, those turns!" Peters gushed, leading Potter away with words like 'contract', and 'after Hogwarts' echoing back to him.
Draco's back was slapped, the snitch falling from his hands. Ruby caught it, stuffing it next to the bludgers. "Nice flying," she said. "Can't believe you actually won."
"Me neither," he choked out. He'd always dreamed of it happening, but actually being on the reality side of things was rather unnerving.
His hair got ruffled at one point, something that certainly wouldn't have happened had he not been having an out of body experience. Regardless, his team was happy, and after almost breaking down in the showers Draco was sort of happy too.
He'd kept his pride. He'd shown he was good. If he was asked to leave then he was sure he could get a few good references from this job that he wasn't trapped in the manor again.
Everything would work out.
It had to.
He laced his boots up, stopping short when a pair of scuffed up trainers came into view. "Potter," he mumbled, finishing his knot before looking up.
Potter, in all his windswept glory, nodded down at him, "Malfoy," he greeted.
Draco stood, he wouldn't be quivering under Potter for this. Potter, for his part, shuffled back a few steps, his hands twitching against each other. "Wood's somewhere over there if you're looking for him," Draco said, pretty sure he'd seen Wood dancing towards the showers as he fetched his shirt.
"Okay," Potter nodded, still not moving. Then, "I er, actually wanted to talk to you. We didn't really get a chance to at Christmas."
Ah. "She's my mother's sister Potter. I can't control where she goes or who she associates with. But I'll endeavor to shun her calls if that's what you want." Merlin knows he'd be asking Potter to stay away if the tables were reversed. It would be alright if it were just Andromeda, but Teddy was involved now too.
Yet, "No. That's not- I'm not here about that I just- are you okay?"
Draco tried to catch up with the conversation, but a lot had happened today. Enough that he didn't quite understand Potter when "You're asking if I'm okay?"
Potter swallowed visibly, "It's just- I heard what some of the people were saying yesterday. Are you alright? They're not bothering you are they?" any more than verbal jeering was Potter's definition of that.
Draco couldn't help rolling his eyes, "I'm used to their name calling, at this point it's odd if they don't. And no, they aren't bothering me. I'm pretty sure they're afraid I'm going to break into their houses and murder them if they dare to try." Something he was hoping would hold long enough for this whole thing to blow over. Merlin help him if they actually discovered he was as helpless as a pygmy puff.
There was a snort, Potter's lips upturned when Draco looked. "Okay," he said.
"Is that all?" Draco asked, he wanted to get out of here before Peters called him aside for a talk. He could probably still come to work if he had plausible deniability on his side.
"Huh?" Potter blinked a few times before remembering, "Oh, right, yeah, you er, you flew good out there. Much better than at school."
That Draco had to snort at, "That's because I do this twenty four seven now. I'm sure you'd have broken out of any of those blocks had you received the same training." Hell without it he was slippery. God help the team going against Potter in the coming years. "Some word of advice however, you're supposed to wait for your team to get at least fifty points before making for the snitch. How many points you win by could be what helps you to victory or defeat."
Potter nodded, "Thanks. But er, I don't think Quidditch is in my future. It's a good hobby but… yeah, not for me."
"Right." Looks like the rumours were true that he was going into the auror field then. Well, that was alright for Draco, it meant he could keep his job.
"And er, about Teddy?" Potter tacked on, "he really likes you. Andromeda's always writing to tell me about your visits and… yeah I er, I wanted to thank you for doing that. I know it probably wasn't easy for you."
Draco reared, "Why?"
Potter blinked a few times at him before edging out, "Because of the whole werewolf thing-"
"Fuck that he's two!" He wasn't getting into this. Not with Potter. "I have to go," before he did or said something that would definitely make him lose his job.
He fell into bed as soon as he got home, not even thinking about dinner until his mother knocked on his door asking if he was hungry.
He wasn't, and turned onto his other side before drifting off until morning.