Draco was trying to figure out the micro-oven thing when Potter appeared beside him in the kitchen. Naked. Or, well, shirtless. And, Merlin, damn, his legs really were long.
"Morning, how did you s- Shit, mate! No, no, stop!"
Potter cried, his hand flying up to grip onto Draco's wrist, effectively pulling him away from where he was about to press the "on" button he was fairly sure he had seen the other boy use just the day before.
He watched, confused, as Potter flung the door open, with excessive zeal for 9:30 in the fucking morning, and pulled out the mug of instant coffee Draco was attempting to make as if it was a bomb about to explode.
Potter peered into the cup and then back at him with wide eyes, and Draco felt the need to justify himself. "I, uh, was trying to make some coffee…" He trailed off, strangely mesmerised by the swaying of Potter's necklace against his shaking chest. The prat was unsubtly trying to rein in his laughter and Draco could not figure out what was so funny, or shocking, about what he had been about to do.
"You are a menace. Oh my fu - you really are a toddler! Honestly."
Draco dared a glance inside the mug the other boy was still clutching tightly, and huffed, feeling increasingly offended. Sure, it did look kind of pitiful, in perspective, but it was his first attempt. After five minutes of trying in vain to mix the crystals with the water he had given up, the powder still obstinately floating around the cup in a sad heap. It wasn't his fault if Muggle had made their poor excuse for coffee water repellant, but Potter had solved the problem by heating the water just the day before and Draco was nothing if not a quick learner. He glared at the little silver spoon swimming placidly inside the mug in accusation, as if it was all its fault for not mixing things properly.
Potter raised a pointed eyebrow, looking at him with the expectant expression of someone that was sure he had made his point. Draco stared back challengingly, and it came almost as an instinct. His spine straightened, his magic humming nervously under his skin.
Instead of the derisive comment he was half expecting, Potter smiled and it didn't even look mocking. He fished the spoon out of the cup, holding it gently by the tip of the handle, only slightly grimacing at the mess of grains stuck to it. He placed it on the counter and turned back to Draco "You cannot put metal in the microwave. It's not safe and can cause a fire, which we are all too hungover to deal with." He joked, only half serious.
Draco blinked, feeling mortified. "Oh. Shit, I mean, sorry. I didn't know." He felt his face heat, thinking of all the time he had taken the piss out of Potter and other Muggle raised kids while in Hogwarts. He must look like an idiot and the realisation, mixed with guilt, wasn't a pleasant one.
"Hey, no judging. Allie grew up without most technologies for a while too. Look, it's pretty simple." He took the cup and emptied it in the sink before filling it up with fresh water and starting the microwave, all the while explaining patiently the whole process to a still embarrassed Draco.
When the water was boiling hot, Potter stirred a spoon full of coffee powder in it and handed it over.
"It still tastes like dirty water." Draco complained, just out of habit.
The other boy laughed "Posh prat. Come on, I'm gonna teach you to make pancakes. I am not sure how you survived this long, but luckily I am here to be the parental figure you need to guide you through adulthood."
"I am older than you!" Draco countered, without thinking, lost as it was in the new development of their old banter.
"Your passport says you turned 18 last month." Potter said, the same skeptical eyebrow as before raised wonkily. He wasn't really good at it and, with his head tilted to the side like an owl, Draco had the sudden urge to giggle.
"Well, clearly, I meant mentally." He deadpanned, giving the other wizard a brazen smirk.
"I said crack the egg, not squeeze the life out of the poor thing! There are about 70 pieces of shell in there now!"
Potter was clearly blind, as Draco could only spot 7. He was almost tempted to distract the other boy and magic them out, just to show off, when a voice called from behind them.
"Morning. What are you guys doing?" Scott asked, trying to peer over their shoulders.
Merlin's beard, people did not seem to own shirts in this place! He noticed, with a brief but surprising flash of irritation, that Scott had appeared from the direction of Potter's room wearing nothing but orange bright shorts that he recognised as the ones he was offered on the first day. They were slightly too short on him, as the Gryffindork seemed to make a prerogative of his to befriend improbably tall people, and he looked sleepy and disheveled.
"Honey-muffin, darling. Just the man for the job!" Potter cooed, in a syrup sweet parody of the Queen's accent. "I've decided to take dear Dean over here under my wing. The boy is, regretfully, in dire need of guidance."
Draco, who had turned to chase the little slippery pieces of shell out of the bowl using the same coffee coated spoon that had almost gotten their flat on fire, made a vague sound that might have been interpreted as an insult, if one was listening for that kind of thing. Scott took one look at him and snorted "You don't say. I never had coffee flavoured pancakes, but I am sure the gritty texture would give just that extra kick".
"Indeed." Potter agreed, still in that fake tone. They both cackled and Draco glared.
"Don't either of you have work to go to or whatever?"
"Actually," Scott said, taking hold of the bowl and adding the rest of the ingredients in short succession. "I have the day off. I need to be there at 3 am to help with the 4th of July baking, though. So no beating you at Trivial tonight, I am afraid." He wiggled the perfectly halved egg shells in front of Draco with exaggeratedly patronising glee and started whisking.
"I am technically on holiday for the next three days but I said I will be going down to the Hatter to help with tomorrow's chaos. Joy's been covering most of my extra shifts and she needs the rest. Plus her family is American and they are big into the celebrations, whilst I am, you know, the Enemy."
"You are quite enemy-nious looking, with that Queen's English and the whole lot of three chest hair." Scott said, pointing the dripping whisk towards Potter's bare nipples.
"Thank you!" Potter nodded proudly. He turned to Draco, expression shifting to thoughtful. "I know it's a bit overwhelming to be in a new place completely alone, we could show you around today so that you know the neighbourhood a little before I go back to the Cafe. Do you, ehm, swim?"
"Of course I swim. Better than I bake!" He added when the other boy looked like he was about to laugh again. "Change into some, you know, clothing and lead the way."
"Sure." Potter agreed magnamusly, making his way to his own bedroom.
"Hey, wait a minute! What about breakfast, you fuckers!" Scott called after them.
Draco smirked and shut the door to his room, already halfway out of his sleeping tee.
After eating some admittingly fluffy pancakes, they had wandered around the streets for a while, the other boys occasionally complaining that they needed to teach him how to use a bike or, at least, something called roller-skate. Draco had observed a couple skating their way down the promenade and came to the conclusion that it was likely the fastest way for him to break a leg. Or both.
He had agreed confidently with Potter, though, because if the boy could ride a wooden plank balanced on top of four tiny wheels like it was natural, he could definitely learn how to run on some sort of death-trap shoes.
Around 3:30 pm they had ended up at the beach, and it was still too hot to be anywhere but in the water. The red and gold twat had declared himself spent after a while, and was currently engaged in a crosswords puzzle a few feet away.
The top of his back was covered in tiny faint dots, skin still surprisingly rosey despite the months in the sun.
"He doesn't know half of the answers. It's pretty cute." Scott said, digging his fingers in the sand of the shoreline where he was lounging next to Draco.
He ducked his head away, a little embarrassed at being caught looking. "So, are you two, you know. . ." He trailed off, unsure of why exactly he wanted to know.
"Exchanging bodily fluids?"
"Ew, No. Well, that. As well." Shame was now starting to flush his skin, and Draco hoped it could pass for sunburn. He had forgotten the screening charm, as there were not many places to hide a wand when all you were wearing were swimming shorts, so his skin was reddening anyway.
"Occasionally." The other boy admitted. "We are good friends, nothing more. Don't listen to whatever Ellen says and her romantic notion of how life should play out. But we are also horny teenagers, and can you blame me?" He winked, not an ounce of the discomfort Draco was feeling on his open face.
"Allie is the one too watch out for, if you are interested. She is the territorial one." He added after a while, giving Draco a knowing look.
"I'm not." He defended. "He is not my type." He mumbled, glancing over quickly at Potter's expanse of bare skin almost as an impulse.
"What's your type?" Scott leered, with no true intention.
Draco thought about Theo's lean frame, his dark curls and light eyes, wincing. "He looks too much like this boy I used to hate in school." He said instead.
"Was he a terrible bigoted douchebag, the ones that only have the fit thing going on for them?" The other boy asked, nose scrunching in distaste.
No, Draco thought, quite the opposite actually. "He was a bit of a self righteous dick. But turns out I might not have known him as much as I thought." Was all he could say.
"Well, Eve there? He is the good sort. Plus he has an amazing…Personality! I was gonna say personality, I swear!" Scott laughed at Draco's scandalised expression.
"Hey, Sugar-bear, what brought the United States out of isolationism?" Potter shouted, blissfully unaware of the two sets of eyes that had landed on his arse.
Scott had to rush home for an early bedtime around 6, saying his goodbyes in the overly dramatic fashion Draco was getting used to. He and Potter had debated the merit of a healthy dinner before settling on two enormous cones of gelato that they were slowly enjoying perched on the swings of a nearby playground. Draco had never been on one, but it was easy enough to figure out that the other boy hadn't needed to be none the wiser.
He was lazily swinging his legs back and forth, content and delighted by the flavours bursting on his tongue, when Potter interrupted the silence.
"So, what brought you all the way here?"
"I could ask the same. Is that a faint Surrey drawl I can discern, or were you born in Texas?"
"Idiot." Potter smiled. "But mostly accurate. I was actually born somewhere near Devon, but grew up in Surrey. It was never home, though. As I told you, the family that raised me wasn't really the most affectionate. I kept waiting for something to change, something more to come. I guess I had this childish belief that my life was meant for more than what it was. When I grew up enough and realised that no one could give me that, I took it into my own hands. And here I am."
"Sounds lonely." Draco offered, thinking about Lupin's words. That had indeed been Potter's life until he was 11. In reality, he had later gotten his wish, but at what cost?
"It was, a little. I was this really scrawny kid with broken glasses, intelligent enough to not stand out in class, but also not enough to stand out in the good way. I had friends, sometimes, but eventually they were all too scared of my cousin to stick around. At some point I just stopped trying. I think later on I must have been fed the minimum for puberty to kick in because I grew enough for Dudley to leave me alone, but those years are a bit of a jumble of memories and I don't remember much. Allie thinks it's the trauma." He said, shoulders slumping self deprecatingly, clearly not completely believing his own words. "She has a lot of opinions, but you know, she is great. You'll meet her soon."
She is territorial, Scott had said. Draco wondered what it meant.
"I am not sure. But I definitely would like to forget the last couple of years." He admitted, thinking about his own messed up life. California felt like a strange, detached dream he could wake up from at any minute.
"Your dad?"
"Yeah, that as well. He got mixed up in stuff he shouldn't have. He had family, for Merlin's sake. He put all of us in danger!" Draco replied, suddenly angry with his father for choosing power over his own wife and son. "The worst thing is that I believed him perfect for so long. I hanged from his words like a brainless child, shaping my whole personality around him. Now, I am not even sure who I am or if what I think it's truly me."
It felt cathartic, to be able to talk about this with Potter without their shared history to cloud his judgment. For a heartbeat Draco wished he could keep Evan James forever hidden in this sunny corner of California where no one would ever come looking.
"You are here now. This was your decision." the other boy said, an earnest look in his eyes.
Draco looked away, unable to tell him how much he was wrong. "I guess. I just wish I figured it out sooner, not that it would have done much. If you could change one thing about your life, what would it be?"
Potter looked up at the blue sky, a serene expression suddenly morphing his face into something young and breathtaking. He observed the kites dotting his field of vision, bright and colourful. "I can't change the past." He said. "But if I could choose anything I want, actually anything about my life, I wish I could fly."
He had caught tempo on his swing, going higher and higher, and as soon as the words had left his mouth he let go, landing gracefully on the sand ahead.
Draco watched him from behind, the forgotten ice cream dripping on his fingers, his eyes stinging with the sudden urge to cry.
