CHAPTER TWELVE
Harry spent the weekend manually cleaning every corner of the house, hoping the physical effort would help clear his mind, knowing it wouldn't make much difference. He couldn't decide whether or not to continue his Draco-abstinence regime, as his days seemed terribly empty without the blond; yet, at the same time, he knew well what he'd have to give up to be with him, and it seemed only reasonable to find out the extent of the sacrifice of being on his own.
He wasn't quite ready to discuss his failed experiment, but as Monday rose and he left for the foundation, he found himself eager to talk about life with Mr. Moore again. As such, he was disappointed - and worried, of course - to find the flu which had gotten the old veteran had turned into pneumonia, at which point he was taken to the hospital, where he was expected to stay for the remainder of the week.
Sure, he always had pleasant conversations with all the veterans, but he'd developed a special bond with Mr. Moore. He felt the old man was the father figure he'd longed for most of his life and had so often lost. Someone more experienced in life matters with whom he could talk freely and be advised on the matters pressing his mind without the burden of his name to weigh down the relationship.
When the weekend came around again, he decided to give clubs another try, this time choosing one aimed almost exclusively at the male audience. It was a lot more like he remembered clubs being, with loud music, an excess of half-dressed people dancing close together, and a more varied public age-wise than he'd anticipated.
This time it was easy to lose himself in the music, and he wasn't the only one interested exclusively in dancing. Despite being hit on by some particularly attractive men, he still didn't feel ready to engage with anyone, and politely declined them.
They were far more accepting than the ladies had been the week before.
Dawn was breaking by the time Harry walked through his front door, and a quick shower to wash away the sweat was all he had energy for before crashing on his bed, exhausted but satisfied.
Over the next couple of weeks, he found other ways to entertain himself, and though he often wished he could share the experiences with Draco, he was surprised to learn he could enjoy himself freely without needing anyone else's company. He was just falling into a routine when June came to an end and it was time for the kids to come home.
Even if it wasn't his home.
Harry was unsure how to go about things, be it with the kids who didn't want his company, be it with Draco, to whom he hadn't talked in over a month. But he didn't have to ponder over the matter for long, because the day the day after the Hogwarts Express arrived in London, he received a formal invitation to have dinner at the manor the upcoming weekend.
"Harry. It's been a long time." Astoria said with a smile as he stepped out of the fireplace. "How have you been?"
"Good, thanks." He smiled and the two started towards the dining room. "And you?"
"Oh, a bit busy, but just fine."
The brunet hesitated for a moment. "And Draco?"
"Very busy." She smiled at him. "He's been working a lot more lately. But otherwise he's fine."
"That's, er... That's good." He replied, his cheeks acquiring a faint shade of pink. He glanced sideways at her, and for a moment he was under the impression she wanted to say something else, but then they arrived in the room already occupied by the rest of the house residents, and she dropped it.
Whatever was being said prior to their arrival was interrupted as five sets of eyes turned to the brunet, and he stood still at the doorway for a few moments, uncomfortable, before being ushered to take a seat.
"Hello, Potter." Draco said with excessive politesse, his eyes meeting Harry's for only a moment before being averted to his plate.
"Hi, Draco." He replied quietly before sitting down and looking around the table. "Hey guys."
He still struggled to accept James's hair, but looking past it, even though he didn't know them very well, he was still able to notice the changes a semester had made: the oldest boy had grown another two inches, maybe three; Scorpius was also taller, and unlike it had always been between him and Draco, Albus didn't seem to be keeping up; and Lily was beginning to catch up height-wise, and look more like a teenager than a child, not the least because of her new haircut, longer and more serious than he remembered.
Conversation was tense for most of the meal, never veering away from the standard topics, school, work, Quidditch. James was still clearly mad at him, keeping his eyes on his food most of the time, but the months away seemed to have warmed the others to him, even of only marginally.
It was clear they were making an effort to be actively nice to him, rather than strictly polite, especially Lily, whose extensive reading provided her with plenty of ammunition for interesting conversations, even if she'd rather discuss whatever it was with Draco and Astoria rather than Harry. Still, the brunet was weirdly hopeful and satisfied when he returned home at the end of the night.
And when he received a letter from his youngest child later that week, he thought his heart might burst with joy.
The little redhead was evidently hesitant to get in touch with him, which made him sad and guilty, and stressed more than enough times that it was only a suggestion and he shouldn't feel obligated at all to comply, but asked him, should he have the time to spare, to help her practice for the Quidditch tryouts come September. She knew the boys would help all throughout summer, still she felt maybe a different perspective might be beneficial.
It only took Harry a split second to make up his mind, and though he couldn't help wondering if the idea had really come from Lily or from her parents, he immediately dashed down a note agreeing and asking about her weekend plans so they could schedule their training sessions.
Once again Harry would be at the manor on a weekly basis.
The first session was awkward for both of them, all the more so because all the boys refused to take part. Much like her biological parents, Draco, and Scorpius, she wanted to be a seeker, making Harry's knowledge and expertise all the more valuable. They went through a series of exercises he used to do back in the day, before repeatedly performing the most common moves - feigns, dives and the such - in order to perfect them, and concluding with a long session competing for the practice Snitch. By the end, they were both beat but smiling from ear to ear, and that alone was enough to make the brunet want to return the following week.
Though he was invited to stay for dinner, not wanting to impose, he declined and returned to Grimmauld Place, still replaying the hours he spent in company of his daughter. It was only after he was home that he started thinking about Ginny, who could've just as easily been the one he was practicing with, and what had been a near-perfect day ended in a helplessly sad note.
"So, how was it?" James asked his little sister, leaning sideways against the door frame.
"Fine. Fun. He's alright, you know."
The blond made a face, walking in and taking a seat by the bed. "Why are you doing this?"
"Ravenclaw's taking the Cup this year." She replied with a confident smile, and he laughed. "I thought mom and dad would like me to give him a chance." She continued with a shrug.
"So you're doing this for mom and dad, then?"
"I thought so, but I think I kinda like him. He's really trying, and you can't blame him for that."
"He doesn't have the right to try. He abandoned us, Lily."
The girl sighed at the repeated argument. "I know that's how it feels like to you, Jamie. Merlin knows you've said it enough times. But I don't feel that way. I have no memory of him; he's just this guy I happen to be related to and who wants to get to know me, now that he can. And I'm okay with that."
They sustained the look for a long time, but he didn't reply. He respected his sister's right to have her own opinions, but it seemed so clear to him how poisonous Harry was to their family that letting him in, little as it might be, was unthinkable.
"I don't like him, Lil. Be careful." He said at last, getting up to leave.
"You might, if you gave him a chance." She said, watching his back disappear out the door.
When Harry returned the following week, Lily was eagerly waiting for him by the fireplace, dressed for practice and bouncing on the balls of her feet. They followed in silence to the backyard, and after a quick warm up, they moved on to the exercises which would become routine for them.
Towards the end of practice, Harry noticed Albus and Scorpius watching them from the ground and, after the distraction cost him the snitch, he flew over and invited the boys to join them. They looked at each other for a few moments before simultaneously declining, and Harry returned to the girl with a shrug. They were around and that was progress.
Some progress indeed, he'd discover the following week when Scorpius, under Albus's watchful eye, decided to join them, and the new dynamics allowed for some new exercises to vary what was quickly becoming their routine. And the week after that, there were four people on brooms on Saturday afternoons in the manor.
When he was done trying to be polite, dinner with the Malfoys entered his routine as well, and time dissipated the tension among them noticeably. By the end of the month, Harry could already consider himself a family friend, and the three youngest didn't oppose to spending time with him - provided, of course, that it wasn't time the redhead reserved for her books or the boys for... whatever it was that consumed most of their time. He wasn't a parental figure to them - and the longer he spent with them, the stronger was the feeling he never would be - that they'd never want him to be -, but he was perhaps the cool uncle, and it was a title he could live with.
Only James didn't seem willing to give him a chance, and though he understood and respected it, it still made him infinitely sad, and he wondered if there was anything he could do to get through to him. If the boy would ever let him.
Things between him and Draco, on the other hand, only got more critical as time went by. Somehow, the tension remained in manageable levels around the children, and they never allowed conversation to last after the meal was over, but during the few moments they were alone - usually when the host walked his guest to the fireplace, or they waited for the children to get cleaned up for dinner -, the sparkles were almost visible. They daren't exchange too many words, or stay too close together - and anything less than several feet was too close -, for fear of losing control.
Every time green eyes rested on the blond, Harry wanted desperately to pull him closer, never to let go again. Take his mouth passionately, claim his body, his mind, his heart for himself and no one else. To put his pride aside, and apologize, and whisper all the romantic and clichéd and borderline pathetic things he could think of, and promise he'd be his forever. And then Astoria would walk in, or something else would distract them, and his fantasies would be dispelled and be substituted by the harsh reality of their choices, their lives.
And he would want to run away and never look back, to find out just how many miles were necessary to make the pain subside, how many years and how many people.
But he'd stay, and put himself through that torture every week, for his children, and for himself, and for those rare moments Draco let his guard down and he'd see the hurricane of feelings reflected in the silver eyes.
Two weeks away from the kids' return to school, the blond man organized to take them all to the Quidditch World Cup match happening in Wales, and invited Harry along. Though the brunet wondered about the other man's motives, the proposition was tempting, and maybe that would be the push his relationship with James needed.
And that was how he found himself helping Draco set up three tents on the camping site set up for those attending the game, as it was scheduled to start at 8pm and would probably end late at night. James was the only one of the four who'd brought friends along (who'd been a little star-struck to meet Harry, much to the boy's dismay), and seemed more than glad to have legitimate excuses not to interact with the brunet.
They'd arrived a few hours ahead and, once they were set up, all kids but Lily were off to explore and look at the souvenirs being sold to tourists, and the three adults found themselves sitting together in uncomfortable silence, around the small bonfire they got started.
"How's your work going, Harry?" Astoria asked as she did every week over dinner.
"Fine. One of the guys suggested I get some muggle certificate so they can hire me properly."
"Oh, that's interesting. Are you considering it?"
"I don't know. It's true they're always short of staff, but they need the money more than me." He smiled at her. "And I don't fancy the idea of going back to school." He added as an afterthought.
She nodded with a smile and they fell quiet again.
"How's business going?" The brunet asked after several minutes.
"Well, as expected." Came the brief reply.
"Maybe I should get dinner started?" Astoria suggested, getting up.
"I'll help you." Harry offered, jumping up and following her into one of the tents.
They worked in silence for a while, the brunet mostly helping to wash and chop the ingredients than really cooking.
"I didn't know you could cook." He commented, and they smiled at each other.
"I always liked the idea of turning simple ingredients into complex dishes. It's probably why I did well in Potions." She smiled, looking over her shoulder at him for a moment before turning back around. "The elves do most of the cooking now, but I like to get my hands dirty on occasion."
"I did some basic cooking for the Dursleys, but I was never any good. And was almost disastrous at Potions." They laughed before falling back into silence.
"You know, Harry," she started a few minutes later, "whatever happened between you and Draco won't get solved unless you talk. I don't know what it was, but I can see the toll it's taking on both of you, and it's terrible to witness."
He nodded and pondered over the reply for a while. "I'm sorry the burden is falling onto you, I never meant for it to happen." He said at last.
She shook her head with a smile, turning around to face him. "Don't worry about it. It's just not healthy for either of you, that's why I worry."
"The truth is, even if we tried to talk, I wouldn't know what to say, everything feels like the wrong thing, and I can't even organize my thoughts, let alone voice them."
"Maybe you should try nonetheless. I'm sure he's going though the same dilemmas, and it just might be that you have the same things in mind."
He nodded. "Thanks. Maybe I will."
She smiled at him and they finished dinner in silence.
Elated with the excitement over the game, all children stayed up late, and Harry only had a chance to approach Draco very late at night, when the two of them were left alone watching the bonfire. The night was warm, with the slightest breeze, and finally most of the people around had gone to bed, leaving the crackling of the fire and the distant sound of voices the only sounds to disturb them.
For several minutes, Harry would look at Draco, wondering how to approach him, what to say, just to lose his nerve and give up on the idea. Then he'd think another chance like it might not appear for a long time, and if he didn't say anything soon, the blond too would go to bed, and he'd miss his opportunity. Which would lead him right to the beginning of his problem.
"Just say it, Potter. Whatever it is. It's extremely annoying to have you staring at me like that." Draco complained eventually, and the other man could feel his cheeks reddening.
"I'm not sure what to say." He admitted after a few beats.
"You were never any good with words anyway. Or thinking, either." He mocked, but didn't even smile at his own remark, keeping his eyes focused on the dancing flames.
"Yeah, well." Harry agreed before taking a few long breaths to buy himself some time. "The truth is, I can't decide what to choose. I want to be with you desperately, and it's been killing me to stay away. But I can't imagine having to share you with anyone else, I don't think I can do it again."
"You know my terms, Potter." He replied quietly.
"Yeah, but that's all very easy for you, isn't it? You get to dictate the terms and may the others conform to them. It's like you're not willing to compromise anything to make this work, that I have to be the only one to sacrifice so you can have everything."
"It's not true. I've put much more into this relationship than you know, but I just can't do what you're asking me to. I won't leave my family to be in an exclusive relationship with you, and if the price to pay for that is losing you, it's a price I'm willing to pay."
"So how can you ask me to compromise so much of my own life when you're clearly not willing to do the same?" He asked, frustrated, running a hand through his hair.
"Don't you think this is easy for me either, Potter. Being away from you is one of the hardest things I've ever been through, and being around you and not being allowed to be with you is ten, a hundred, a thousand times worst. But if enduring that pain is what it takes to see you at all, even if only from a distance, then I'm willing to soldier on and be your friend. So don't say I'm not invested in this, and that I don't make sacrifices, because I do."
"It also kills me to be away from you. Why can't we just be together, then?"
"Don't go there again. I won't give up my family for you, and don't say you'd do it for me, because you know you wouldn't. If you still had Weasley and the kids, you'd do whatever it took to keep them, even give me up."
"No, I wouldn't." He mumbled quietly, but a voice in his head reminded him that he would never know for sure.
"Yeah, you would. Actually, you probably wouldn't even have time to think about such nonsense, and things would be just as they were."
"But they can't be like they were. We've both changed, and the circumstances have changed."
"Yes, and my circumstances won't allow me to be your little boyfriend, Potter."
They remained in silence for several minutes, the dying fire in front of them growing quieter. Both men kept their eyes on the ground, and when the air became too suffocating for them to stand it, Draco got up and put out the bonfire with a silent spell. The brunet was surprise to be suddenly in the dark, and looked up to the other man.
"I'm going to bed." He announced casually and turned to leave, just to be held back by the arm.
Feeling suddenly brave at the other man's words, Harry had gotten up to stop him from leaving, and before he had the chance to think it through, he'd pulled the blond strongly against himself, their lips meeting as if they'd never parted in the first place, their tongues rediscovering the mouths they already knew so well.
The kiss was tainted with desperation, too eager and too rough, the kind of kiss that usually puts people off and can even determine the fate of a relationship, but for them, none of it mattered. The need for each other was the same, and they wanted to take as much as they could in case it turned out to be their last.
When they emerged again a few minutes later, they were both panting hard and their eyes, darkened with lust, met for only a second before their lips followed. Maybe they would've stayed there all night consuming each other, maybe they would've gotten into another argument, or maybe they would've simply parted and each gone his own way, but they would never find out as they were very unceremoniously interrupted.
"So that's why you want us to be close to him? So you can fuck him without anyone suspecting it?"
"James!" They both exclaimed, though in very different tones, turning to the blond boy.
"I knew he was trouble, I always knew it. And now he's gonna tear our family apart, like he hasn't done enough damage already." He continued bitterly, his hands clenched into fists on his sides.
"It's not like that, James." Harry hurriedly tried to explain, gaining himself a very angry look. "I'm not breaking anyone up, you don't have to worry about it. Draco wouldn't leave his wife, not for me." He couldn't help the bitter tone that permeated his last words.
"Not now, Potter." The blond man whispered angrily. "Nobody is breaking up with anybody, Jamie. We're still a family, your family, and will always be."
"So what, you're just gonna cheat on mom like that? Don't expect me to keep your secret, 'cause I won't."
"I'm not cheating on her."
"No?" His eyebrow rose in mockery. "What do you call this, then? A friendly time which just happens to involve you sticking your tongue down his throat?"
"James!" Draco said loudly, angry. "You will cease to use that language immediately, you hear me, young man?"
The boy shrugged. "I'm just calling as I see it."
"Look, it's, er, it's more complicated than that, James." The brunet interfered, sounding noticeably calmer than the other two. "And I know it must be a shock to you, but I promise you nothing will change in your life. You mom and dad will still be together, and you'll still be a family."
"Like you're one to talk." He smirked. "You just showed up in our lives one day causing havoc, but surely a few nice words will be enough to make everything right again, won't it?"
"Don't you talk to him like that, James." Draco said in a warning tone.
"Whatever. You know what, I won't care anymore. Do whatever you want." He said angrily, turning to Harry. "But stay the hell out of my life." He threatened the brunet before turning around and walking towards his tent.
"James! Get back here at once!" The blond man called out, but was ignored. "James!"
"Leave him, Draco. Give him some time."
"His behavior was inadmissible, Harry." He replied, tired, sitting back down with a sigh.
"It must've been quite a shock to him to see us like that. I'm sure you can excuse his behavior." The brunet said with a weak smile, resting one hand on the other man's shoulder.
"I suppose." He mumbled, and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "What are we going to do now?"
"We hadn't sorted that out even before that little interruption." Harry joked weakly, but the blond didn't bulge. "I don't know. Maybe I should stay away for a while." He said with a shrug.
Draco shook his head. "He doesn't have the right to keep you away from the others too, just because he doesn't like you."
"Well, it's just two days anyway, and then they're off to school again. I'll miss them, of course, but you need to make things right between you without me around to complicate things."
"Maybe we can work something out between us after they leave."
"Yeah, maybe." Harry smiled, and this time the blond corresponded. "Come on. Off to bed with you, we have a lot to do in the morning." Draco raised an eyebrow. "Oh, get over yourself. I'm not sleeping with you, not after that. You go to your bed and I'll go to mine."
"I never thought I'd hear you say that, Potter." He joked, accepting the hand the other was offering to help him stand.
"Good night, Malfoy." Harry said with a smile, disappearing into the tent.
" 'Night, Potter." Draco replied quietly, eyes fixed where the other man had been seconds ago. Moments later, he followed, but sleep didn't come easy that night. Or at all.