It was only when, the next morning, Draco let his magic loose in the empty flat that he realised that the previous day he hadn't thought of Scott as a Muggle at all. So much for the cultural shock Lupin had been certain he would experience. Muggle were simply a technologically adapted version of wizards, with the only difference that they had to try harder when they wanted something cleaned.
He was just waving his wand around to straighten the cushions on the sofa, with a worrying amount of pride for such a task, when the significance of his train of thoughts finally hit him like a bludger. He blinked, wand still in mid air.
Blinked again.
Cat Ron rubbed against his bare ankles, meowling softly, and Draco absentmindedly adjusted his skewed collar with a flick of his wrist. Only when the cat yelped in surprise he eventually snapped out of his reverie.
"Shit!" He said, locking eyes with the pet in an attempt to convey how huge this step really was, for someone like him.
The tabby tilted his head to one side, definitely unimpressed and Draco laughed.
"I am a wizard, you silly thing. And yet, you haven't looked at me any different. Because I am just like them, am I not? I didn't get it, for a long time I really didn't. Now, if only you could tell me how to use the fucking telly we could watch one of Potter's many vhs to celebrate this truly earth-shattering discovery!" He said, a little pleased at remembering the Muggle term.
Ron meowled louder and Draco crouched down to stroke him behind the ears. The cat purred in contentment.
"You know, if my father could see me now, talking to animals and using my magic for cleaning spells like a domestic elf, I doubt he would share the sentiment. And the best thing is that I don't really care."
He let the cat climb onto his lap, adjusting his position until he was comfortably sitting with his back against the sofa. Yellow eyes blinked up at him, irritated at being jolted around.
"Don't give me that look. If you had met me even a couple of months ago you'd understand why this is huge for me. I told Potter, yeah your Evan, I know. But he is my- he is Potter for me. Anyway, I told him just yesterday that I wasn't sure of who I was anymore, but I think that maybe I am starting to figure it out. Hey, ouch!"
Draco sucked the thumb the cat had nibbled on and glared as the tabby jumped nonchalantly on the sofa and curled up on one of the cushions.
"You are a shitty listener, by the way. When has Potter said he will be back? Well, in the meanwhile, let's figure this thing out."
He got up and started looking through his flatmate's collection of films, quite surprised by how many of the synopsis contained things about magic. He couldn't find the snow-chick with the seven dwarves one, so he settled on another portraying a bunch of lions on the cover. The Lion King. Might as well cater to Cat Ron's tastes, he reasoned.
Taking out the Sword In The Stone turned out easier than expected. The vhs was still wedged inside the player from the last time he and Potter had watched it together, but it only took pressing a couple of buttons, a bit warily after the experience with the microwave, for the film to pop out with a clunk. Draco studied the way the vhs had been inserted before changing it for the new one, pretty confident he got it the right way around, if that mattered at all.
Nothing happened.
He pressed play, glad that the Muggles had helpfully labeled the correct control.
The telly remained blank.
Draco cursed and started searching for more buttons to push, relieved that the infernal thing only seemed to have a few in comparison to what Potter had called "the remote". It took five minutes of fidgeting but finally the screen came to life.
"Ah-ha! Take this, Ron Weasley's improved version. I am not useless, after all." The Cat was sadly sleeping but Draco plopped down on the sofa next to him, eager to enjoy his success.
Weirdly, the film started halfway through a scene. A little cub stood, eyes wide, in the middle of a dirt path. He seemed frozen in fear by the fast approaching group of galloping beasts coming his way and Draco wanted to shout at him to move, you idiot. He watched, horrified, as the cub finally started running, still not fast enough. He was going to be trodden on. Simba, the other lion said, the one with the scar, urging the one with the red mane on. Both looked as worried as Draco felt and he watched in captivated tension until. . .
"What the fuck?" He cried as the bigger lion fell to his death, eyes still linked in shock with the one who had betrayed him. Draco felt just as shaken, unconsciously curling up on himself on the sofa. His left hand reached out to pet Ron's long, sleek tail but his focus remained fully trained on the screen.
He was so entranced that when, suddenly, a weird loud ringing started blaring from the kitchen he was so startled he almost jumped out of his skin. His wand went flying out of his lap and rolled under the tv cabinet but Draco paid it no mind, alarmed by the continuous sound. The cat, who had been awoken more by Draco's reaction than the noise, meowed loudly at him and retreated to the kitchen.
Draco followed to find that the sound originated from a strange device hanging from the wall. With a hazy recollection of something Lupin had said about phones, he picked up the mobile part of it and held it warily in front of his face.
There was a buzzing noise coming from it and something that sounded like distant voices. Draco almost dropped it, catching it last minute by the cord. He swallowed and brought it closer to his ear.
"Hello! Hello?" A voice said more clearly then and, despite his ex Professor's lecture on the mechanics of this particular Muggle invention, Draco still found himself looking around the room for the face of the boy who had spoken.
"Potter?" He asked, voice just above a whisper.
"Ye-No! What? Who's Potter? It's me, Evan." Potter clarified, clearing his throat.
Draco scanned the kitchen one more time, amazed. "Clearly, of course! Hey, hello!" He said, trying to recover.
"Were you sleeping?" The other boy laughed, amusement laced in his tone.
"No. Of course not. I was watching telly, if you really want to know." Draco replied, adjusting the device against his ear. "I figured out how to work the vhs player."
He omitted the part where it had taken him several minutes and Potter laughed again, clear and twinkling as if he was standing next to Draco.
"Hey, well done! I knew you had it in you." He managed, sounding only slightly teasing "Did you find the breakfast we left behind?"
Draco nodded, thinking about the pastries he had found on the table, next to a hastily scribbled note warning him to stay away from the microwave.
"Uhm, hello?" Potter asked after a beat and Draco realised belatedly that the other boy could not see him.
"Yeah, I did. Thank you. I didn't try making that vile coffee again but I had some of the orange juice from the fridge. I didn't fancy the idea of burning the flat down without you here to save me." He replied, already cringing at his own words. What the fuck was that about. Stop me, he meant stop me.
"Awww." Potter cooed, "Waiting for me to gear up in a fire department uniform and carry you out bridal style, were you?"
Draco did not know what to say to that, and not only because he did not understand half of it.
"As if you could carry me!" He offered, weakly.
"Dunno, you are kinda bony! Uh-what- yes, I'm going to tell him, now yeah." The other boy started to sound distant and muffled and Draco pressed the receiver more firmly against his ear, startling when the voice came back loud and clear. "Sorry about that, but I've been reminded of the reason why I am calling. Seeing as you are a fire hazard and I am not there to rescue your bony arse, I-we, we were wondering if you would like to have lunch at the cafè instead of eating cereal out of the box. We have potato salad and the grill is going at the back. It's quite busy but you can eat in the staff kitchen if you don't mind. Since I'm not technically on shift I'm clocking off at 1 and then I could show you how blue, red and white this country can really get."
"Well, you know just how to charm a boy into your kitchen, don't you?" Draco drawled, relieved that he didn't have to find a way to spend the day completely by himself. He couldn't explain why but, despite growing up in a huge and mostly empty manor, he had never gotten used to the feeling of solitude. There was something unnerving about being left alone with his thoughts.
"Is that a yes?" Potter prodded happily.
"Not like I have a choice if I want this bony arse to get some shape, do I?"
Potter choked on his breath and Draco smirked, satisfied.
Refusing to deal with the buses, Draco had charmed his ring to point him in the right direction and had embarked on the half an hour walk to the "Mad Hatter". Potter had convinced him to buy a few shorts when they went shopping for groceries the day before and, with hindsight, it had been a wise decision.
The breeze carried the scent of the sea and Draco thought that, maybe, when it was all over he'd like to move closer to the water. The idea was bittersweet and he felt irrationally disgusted with himself for even thinking about the after.
People swished past him in blurs and he paid special attention to the ones on boards, bending their bodies like he would on a broom, commanding a piece of wood to their whims. He could see why Potter had taken to the thing. He had probably been a natural. Draco wondered if perhaps he could ask to be taught how. Potter could show him how to be a Muggle, how to find the simple joys in this particular world Draco suddenly wanted so badly to understand. Something to keep with him before…
Before.
He kicked some gravel with the toe of his trainers, sending pebbles flying in front of him. People went past without a glance and he asked himself if there was really an actual need to be so secretive in front of Muggles. They all seemed set on minding their own business, almost forcefully avoiding eye contact. No one had seemed to care about this pale boy glancing at his flashing hand every so often. Maybe because there were so many of them. The feeling of anonymity was new, but not in a bad way.
The Hatter was decked with little flags and banners in a way that even his older, more tolerant self could not find in himself to appreciate.
The door jingled when he pushed it and his eyes immediately zeroed on Potter. The boy in question was balancing three trays full of dirty dishes on his arms and, as soon as he met Draco's stare, his eyes narrowed.
Draco stifled a laugh.
"Not a word!" Potter said as he approached, the dishes and cups rattling ominously. "Now, if you want to follow me to the kitchen."
"Are you wearing makeup?" He couldn't help asking after the other wizard rid himself of the trays. Potter was dressed, well, interestingly. He was wearing black, form fitting jeans like some of the other servers and dark red trainers that were well kept compared to his standards. Draco dragged his eyes up and snorted again. On top of a pale gold shirt with short sleeves, Potter's torso was wrapped in a burgundy waistcoat with four metal buttons at the middle and that terminated in an inverted V at the back. Draco peeked at it with curiosity before looking at Potter in the face again. The other boy's reddening cheeks darkened the blush already artificially created by the make up. The front of his hair was dyed with a tuft of white powder.
"Be glad I don't have a black button nose and ears!" Potter muttered darkly.
"What's up with the pocket watch?" He asked, tilting his chin towards the gold watch and chain pinned to Potter's waistcoat.
"He is always late, you silly!" Symone swooped in, giggling. She herself was wearing a pink and purple striped dress and cat ears, dark lids shadowed in glittering violet. "You should see him on his Hatter days, he gets to wear green high waisted breeches, suspenders and eyeliner." She gushed, dreamingly.
Potter blushed harder, rolling his eyes. "I still don't get why the white rabbit needs to have red cheeks. White!" He repeated, stressing the word. "Anyway, direct him to the kitchen please, will you? I have just noticed table 7 has run out of syrup."
"The. Breeches." Symone told him as Potter left and Draco quenched the impulse to ask more.
"So, has Evan told you how this place came about?" Ellen asked after she had fed him enough grilled chicken for two.
"Ehrm, no." Draco replied, wiping his sticky fingers on a paper napkin.
"I used to be a Coroner, you know. It wasn't pretty, but I liked the job enough. I was in my late thirties when I found out I was pregnant. A daughter, Alice. A bit of a shock really, I was so busy. But she was perfect, you know. Ten little fingers, ten little toes, blonde just like you are." He swallowed when her voice suddenly went quieter. "Alice, she was- she was different, she. . . She didn't communicate the same way as the other kids did, but it was okay. We learnt, together we found our voice. I wasn't perfect, and sometimes it was frustrating, but Alice was always patient with me. She showed me how to be her mother and I will always be forever grateful for the way she changed me."
She looked up then, eyes shining and Draco could only stare back. She was such a happy woman, but he already knew what would come next. "Then work got hectic one day. Very, a big case. I went to pick her up from her grandma and when we crossed the road to get to the car she tried to tell me. She was moaning and pulling at my hand, but I was on the phone. I was on the phone. . ." Her voice trembled and broke. "She had this little white bunny, you know. She would not go anywhere without it, Alice In Wonderland was her favorite story. My little Alice. . . She had dropped it and she was trying to tell me but I was on the goddamn phone."
Draco's breath stopped.
"When I realised she had slipped away from my grasp it was too late. Hey, no, none of that." She hushed, resting her hand gently on Draco's arm when she noticed he was scrambling for words.
"I didn't tell you all that for you to feel uncomfortable or because I wanted you to feel sad for me. But I know a haunted look when I see one, and that first day you entered this place you looked so lost. Just like another boy did a year or so ago. He went through a lot, that boy, but something tells me that you might have just as well."
"I-" Draco stammered, at loss for a coherent reply.
"Please, no need to share. I won't pry. I just hope you boys can find a good friend in each other, that's all. Now, enough with the gloom. I think that menace is almost finished with his shift. . . Honestly, I could have handled it! Let's go and relieve him from his burden."
"So, what did you think? They really do know how to make a show." Potter said later, once they were back at their flat.
"Mhm" Draco agreed, only half listening. He had been lost in thoughts all afternoon, trying in vain to be distracted by the fourth of July celebrations Potter and some of his friends had dragged him to. To be fair the fireworks display had been almost as grand as the one the Weasley twins had ended his last term of fifth year with, but his heart just hadn't been in it.
He glanced at the other boy, who was brushing the remaining chalk powder off his hair with his fingers, head bent down. He had lost his silly clothes as soon as his shift ended and his now black t-shirt was stained white. He looked so damn young.
He's like a son to me, Ellen had said.
Just how many people was Draco going to hurt?
"This place looks so tidy!" Potter whistled, impressed. He had given up on his hair and he was looking around at Draco's morning handiwork. It was all very neat, almost suspiciously so.
He would have to tone it down, he reflected, just only then remembering about his wand that was still lost under the tv cabinet.
"What time did you wake exactly?" The other boy asked, toeing off his shoes by the front door. All the clutter that used to be on the little desk wedged between the entrance and the wall was now organised according to Draco's wealthy brat standards. They both dropped their respective sets of keys in the little glass bowl, Potter still observing the place in awe.
The wonders of cleaning charms, Draco thought, a bit more lightheartedly. "Not at five thirty, like you said you would, but I am an early riser." He lied.
"You didn't have to spend the morning cleaning! Oh, I see Miss Pérez has been around to feed Ron." The other boy said, pleased. "No need to let the ungrateful git starve, after all."
"He bit me this morning while we were watching the telly." Draco remembered, looking at where the tv seemed now stuck on a grey, flickering display.
"I wonder where you found the time to watch anything" Potter mused, only just noticing the state of the device. Draco briefly panicked that he might have broken it.
"Just remember to switch it off, next time, you jerk. The other boy said, reaching for the remote. "What were you watching, by the way?"
"The Lion King." Draco replied "And, what the fuck?" Because, really.
Potter laughed. "Have you gotten to the part where Mufasa dies? No, actually, I don't want to know. I always stop it before any of that happens, I only ever watch it for the first couple of songs. Disney has a thing about parents, or lack thereof."
"You'd fit right in." Draco said, without thinking. He brought a hand to his mouth, horrified, but to his surprise the other boy didn't look angry.
"Yeah, don't worry. I've heard that before. My friends are still debating if I am more of an Arthur or a Cinderella."
When he saw that Draco still looked chagrin he repeated "Don't worry. It's the truth anyway, no sense in circling around it. I used to think that my upbringing was something not to be discussed, but what is the point of being ashamed of something I had no control over? Putting up a strong facade was only fooling myself. Come on, let's watch something. I know I only have cartoons but we could skim the channels and see if we can find something."
Draco wanted to ask more about Harry's childhood, the slice of him he had assumed so many wrongs about. He wanted to be able to share the parts of himself that to this boy would make no sense, but that Ellen rightfully thought they had in common. More than anything, though, he wanted to get rid of the one secret he could not tell about regardless.
He wanted to tell Harry why he was really there. Promise that he had changed, he had. But this thing, this one thing, was too big.
Tell him that, despite all his growth and all the work he had put into himself, Draco Malfoy would still eventually hurt Harry Potter. And he didn't want to, not anymore. It had taken him less than a week to reach this conclusion, and there were four more to go.
He squirmed, shivering despite the heat. "Could we watch Alice in Wonderland?" He requested, voice little.
"Oh." Harry said, green big eyes understanding "She told you. Of course, get on the sofa and let me grab two tubs of ice cream. That explains a lot about today." He muttered, turning towards the kitchen.
When he came back and chose to sit close, their calves pressing along one another, Draco was partly grateful and partly heartbroken. He wanted to sink right next to the other boy, sink with him, in him and drown.
Still, the urge to run was there.
