Chapter Summary: Harry explores and settles in, and even makes a friend or two in the process.

AN: Hello again! I would like to thank every one of you who has given this story a shot so far. I've appreciated your comments so much! I hope that you continue to enjoy the ride. P.S. I'm apartment hunting right now, and wow is it an actual nightmare. Wouldn't wish the struggle on any of you!

With You My Tides will Ebb and Flow
Chapter 2: Sweet Tooth

Waning Gibbous Moon in Leo: February 3rd, 1988

Draco winced as he awoke. Every bone in his body ached like it had been crushed and reformed a thousand times over. The transformation had been painful, awful, and wretched. He couldn't remember a single thing after that, other than the despair and agony he had felt. Everything hurt. And he was freezing atop the stone, his clothes shredded all around him. It had only gotten worse from the last time.

The manacles around his ankles and wrists chafed at his delicate skin, digging further into the already angry wounds. He flinched away from them, escaping to nowhere, hissing as the metal scorched him even further.

This was his future. Locked up like a filthy beast in a cell. Draco stared out between the bars and into the manor's cold stony dungeons. He used to play down here. Pretend the chambers were holding criminals and terrifying monsters that he'd caught and fought against in battle. Now he was the monster. And it wasn't so fun anymore.

He heard the sound of heels clacking against stone and turned his head to the side, watching as a shadowy form approached the cell and unlocked it. They entered and came near, bending low to wrap a soft blanket over his form.

"Mother," Draco breathed.

She was unlocking the manacles, and the relief he felt as each hunk of metal fell away from his skin was unreal. The only chains that held him through the transformation were coated liberally with aconite pollen. With nothing to counteract the poison's effects, they burned. Like fire upon his skin. His wrists and ankles were a bloody mess and they hardly responded to his mother's hastily whispered healing spells. He watched her work, wincing occasionally as his skin struggled to stitch itself back together.

"Mother, I'm sorry," he eventually whispered.

She halted, her wand faltering in her grip for a moment. "For what my darling?" Her voice was carefully controlled, but he could hear the slight tremble she'd worked hard to mask.

His eyes burned, and he felt his lip shake as he stuttered, "F-for being a monster."

"Oh my darling, no." His mother looked up at him, finally allowing Draco's wrists to fall limply to his sides. "No, you're not a monster," she assured him. Her fingers lifted, brushing the sweat soaked strands of hair away from his brow.

"Father won't even look at me," Draco muttered.

His mother breathed in quickly and clenched her fingers before cupping the side of his face. She looked into his eyes best she could, despite his insistence on staring down at the blood soaked stone beneath his legs. "He's…he's just been busy Draco. He's looking for a cure. A way to help you. Because he loves you."

"Because I'm a monster," he cried.

"No, oh Draco, no," she hushed, finally reaching out to pull him into her arms. He clung to her, tears falling in streams down his face as he gripped at her back. She reassured him endlessly. But every word spoken was a lie. He knew what he was. And he could see it in the eyes of his father every day. In the way he watched him warily and from a distance, in the way he whispered about his 'condition' heatedly to his mother when they believed he could not hear. In the way he never came to see him after his transformations, never helped to chain him up before they began.

He could picture the disappointment his father's expression would be laced with if he saw him now. Like Draco was a disgrace to the Malfoy name. As he sobbed over his mother's shoulder he wondered how long it would be until his parents eventually gave up on him and cast him aside like a stray dog.

Waxing Gibbous Moon in Virgo: May 17th, 2005

Harry's first day in town was…interesting, to say the least. Everyone he encountered was entirely unsurprised by his presence, and made a point of greeting him and introducing themselves as he walked by. Unlike the day prior, he was offered food and treats, invited to family gatherings, and pulled into long winded conversations on his way towards the…shops. He used the term lightly, because it didn't look like anything was actually for sale. People worked, and seemingly offered up their goods for free. Some of the storefronts even appeared shared by multiple people. A few were closed, but obviously not permanently, or open only at specific hours during the day. Allegedly, the entire island was supplied and sustained on the back of trade and internal resources. Every individual contributed in whatever way they could, whether big or small.

One of the shop keeps explained that a few of the residents even took turns manning storefronts in some of the communities they traveled to at sea. There they could sell their more arts and craft based wares. Any profits went back into supporting the community as a whole.

It was different. Very different. But Harry liked the idea of everyone doing their part. Of using their personal strengths and picking up the slack when someone else was sick or unable to help. It was rather like a remote little utopia out in the middle of the ocean.

Suddenly Harry's evening in the tavern made more sense. He felt somewhat bad for indulging in so much food for little more than a couple hours of clearing tables and rinsing dishes. He'd have to make up for it in the days ahead. He was already taking note of the ways he might be able to pitch in around town to earn his keep. Perhaps in the gardens scattered throughout, very well maintained and artfully arranged. He knew how to tend to most plants and rather enjoyed doing so after finding solace in the act during his summers spent at the Dursley's. He wasn't very physically strong, or at least not in the way he'd need to be to help at the docks, heaving heavy supplies to and fro and tethering ships as they arrived. But he'd seen people collecting food along the water's edge. Berries from the bushes that lined the cliffside, and sap from the trees at the outskirts of the forests.

If only he could use magic, he'd be able to help out more. But from what he could tell, the place was entirely muggle. He walked about carefully, making a point of not pulling his wand out to take care of the simple things he'd become accustomed to using it for without a second thought. Like tying his shoelace if it came undone, or scourgifying his clothes when he stumbled into a puddle, or casting reparo on a broken down cart. It was surprisingly difficult. He hadn't realized just how dependent he'd become.

It had taken him the entire morning of awkwardly dithering around with his wand tucked up his sleeve before someone took pity on him and let him know it was in fact a magical town, and that he didn't have to hide that he was a wizard, they already knew. And all at once things clicked into place. He'd seen flames alight suddenly beneath pots, akin to incendio, and water dancing and falling in mysterious waves. Plants he was certain had been just small sprouts at dawn were fully grown by noon, yielding fruits and vegetables to feed the masses with ease. A man had even sculpted a fox and rabbit from ice in a decorative fountain to entertain some children, and that hardly made sense at all considering the comfortable spring temperature. The buildings reminded him of the strange off kilter structures that wizards and witches were so fond of. Tilted peculiarly, and clearly constructed not entirely by hand. The pathways held all the unusual foliage and whimsical designs that he'd come to love from wizarding communities.

Even so, it was odd. He hadn't seen a single wand. He'd seen all the signs of the existence of magic without any evidence of it actually occurring. He knew there were places in the world where the wizard folk didn't need wands, schools that trained their students to cast wandlessly from a young age, but this felt different. He hadn't really seen anyone casting spells, wandless or otherwise. In fact, he had heard no incantations at all.

No lumos to light the way. Instead the townsfolk were quite reliant on candlelight. And they hand washed their dishes, Harry should know, he'd done his fair share of them at the tavern the night prior. There were no house elves doing the cooking and cleaning, no charms working to refresh laundry or carry goods. And no brooms for flying. The villagers travelled exclusively by boat. If he hadn't known, if he hadn't already believed in magic, felt the threads of it in the air around him, then the village would have easily masqueraded as a muggle town. A strange town. But muggle none the less.

Now that he knew, he could sense it all around him. His surroundings were filled with magic, but in a subtle way. It was incredibly interesting to witness.

And the people…well they were an entirely different sort of interesting.

Harry had seen so many new faces and heard so many new names in the span of just a few hours that he was having difficulty keeping up. But there were a few that stuck with him for one reason or another.

Zel, who managed the tavern and inn, was a reserved and intimidating woman. Harry couldn't get a good read on her, on what she was thinking or feeling, but he felt comfortable enough in her presence now after surviving his first night at the inn and eating a wide variety of her cooked meals. She had not broken free of her rather standoffish and daring countenance except once, very briefly, when a strawberry blond woman with an enchanting pixie cut had approached the bar and ordered a drink. She became even quieter if possible, and somehow softer, gaze not straying away from the one who captured every inch of her attention for those few moments in time. Harry had half a mind to tease her for the display, but they hardly knew each other, and quite frankly, she terrified him enough to put him off the idea entirely. It really was none of his business.

Then there was Aster. An almost wraith like man with long hair nearly as dark as Harry's, though lightened with the occasional streak of brown. He was tall. Nearly as tall as Draco. And he moved quietly, in the shadows, and Harry practically felt his life source jump right out of his body when he'd turned around once and found himself face to face with the man's searching gaze. He'd been all kinds of confusing. Talking in circles, endlessly, without ever saying much at all. He reminded Harry of Luna in a way. Just as mystifying, just as wise. Though he hadn't mentioned nargles or wrackspurts once, so Harry could only assume they didn't share that particularly unusual trait. Harry noticed Aster spent quite a bit of his time with Draco. They sat together on the docks and ate their lunches, then parted ways when Draco returned to whatever work he was helping with.

That was another thing that frustrated Harry. Despite his best efforts, more often than not he found himself drawn to the singular familiar face in the area. Draco Malfoy. Nothing about Harry's observations of him since arriving were in line with his previous notions. Draco was not at all like the man he remembered from the trials, or the war, or at school. He was friendly with the locals, and always willing to help. He interacted with everyone he passed, whether it was to say hello or stop for a longer chat. Even though his face was more often than not devoid of expression, this willingness to listen to others was unusual for Draco. Harry even saw him smile once or twice at some of the children running in the streets. He was acting…kind.

He had trouble connecting Draco to this place. With no abundance of wealth, or political status, or any of the things he'd grown to believe Draco and his family valued above all. How, had he become so at ease in a place like this, amongst these people? It was as though he'd found his place in the world, whereas Harry was still floundering about looking for anything at all that made sense.

He felt rather…envious of him. And that perturbed Harry more than he cared to admit.

When a slightly older man approached him, early afternoon, Harry braced himself for yet another introduction. He wondered what he could expect this time. The man was large in stature, with a thick but well-kept short beard. His hair was somewhat golden, catching the light of the sun, with streaks of grey sprinkled in here and there. He moved in a relaxed manner, as though without a care in the world. Almost at once his body language put Harry completely at ease.

"Hello," he began, voice low, soft, and soothing. "We have not yet had the chance to properly meet." Harry eyed him, surprised at his apparent gentle nature. He looked as though he could be an intimidating figure, if he chose to, but Harry had a feeling people did not often cause him enough trouble that he felt the need. "My name is Conri." He held out his hand in greeting, and though his palm practically encased Harry's fingers, his grip was warm and welcoming.

"Harry."

Conri leaned up against the fence Harry had settled against, back to the water as he turned his head in Harry's direction. "What brings you here, to the island?" Conri asked.

Harry clasped his hands together and looked away. He dangled his arms across the fence, looking down at the docks with wandering eyes. "I…I'm not really sure how I ended up here, to be honest," Harry muttered.

"Hmm, well, magic works in mysterious ways." Harry smiled faintly. It certainly did. His gaze caught sight of Draco's distinctive head of blond hair, and he watched him stand up on top of a piling to reach out for a rope. Draco's muscles strained as he hoisted a fishing boat into place, hurrying to tie it off before he grabbed hold of the boat to steady it. "I won't take up too much of your time, you seem…quite preoccupied," Conri uttered teasingly.

Harry flushed deeply and turned away from the water as well, scratching at the side of his head. "Oh, no, I'm not doing anything important."

Conri hummed quietly in response, and Harry tried not to fidget while he stood awkwardly against the fence. When he looked up the other man was watching him with a pleased smile. "I did want to let you know that should you need anything at all during your stay, I am always here to help," he offered.

A few townsfolk strolled past then, greeting Conri in a rather formal way before continuing on. "You're…like a Mayor?" Harry asked as he watched them make their way towards the hills beyond. He was surprised when Conri laughed, deep and hearty.

"Something like that," he commented. "I prefer to think of everyone here as my family. They call me by name, or as Elder Talamh in a more official capacity."

Ah. Elder. That's what the villagers had said. He'd heard the word used on more than one occasion in his morning travels, in reference to other members of the community. Harry tilted his head to the side and asked, "How many Elders are there?"

"Five of us." He shifted then, hoisted himself easily up on the fence to sit atop the sturdy wood. "The community will nominate candidates to become elders, based on our skills and assets, and then we vote when the need presents itself, if there is any disagreement. Elected Elders take a vow to look after this community and all those who live in it, to the best of our abilities." He looked down at Harry and grinned. "That includes you."

Harry nodded and considered him before turning to look out at the water again, unable to keep his eyes away for long. He tried to avoid the docks, but inevitably ended up finding Draco among the workers again, this time coiling some spare rope to drape it over his shoulders.

"You and Draco are…friends from school?" Conri asked, and Harry practically snorted.

"Not friends," he admitted. "But yes, we did go to school together." To be honest, Harry wasn't even sure how he would classify Draco. He'd considered him an enemy once, briefly. But that felt so far away now. Enemy was far too strong a word. Voldemort was an enemy. Umbridge was an enemy. The Ministry was becoming one. But Draco…he was never really an enemy. They'd been rivals for a time. That was probably more accurate. But not at present. He didn't know the slightest thing about Draco now. That was becoming more and more apparent the longer he studied him from afar.

"I see." Conri twisted sideways, sitting astride the fence as he joined Harry in looking at the various fishermen and boats gliding along the shore. "A complicated history then."

"Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Well, I hope you don't let it get in the way of your stay,"

Harry grinned broadly. "Wouldn't dream of it." He opted to join Conri, climbing atop the fence to sit astride it as well. The view was somehow better that way, despite the minute change in perspective. It was more than just the better view that left him relaxed and content, however. It was the comfortable camaraderie between him and this near stranger. The way sitting there so casually aside Conri made him feel more welcome among these people. Like he was just another one of the villagers spending his day around town.

He sat there with Conri for the bulk of the afternoon. Sometimes in complete silence, watching birds fly over the water, and blinking at the reflections of sunlight on the rippling waves. Occasionally they'd talk, sharing the odd story, or commenting on the goings on about them. Harry wasn't sure what exactly made him want to open up to this man, but he did so with ease, and before long he'd managed to blabber on about his friends, and school, and the war, and everything in between.

It was nearly sunset when Conri eased himself down from the fence. He stretched out his neck and arms and put his hands on his hips, looking out at the sun as it touched the edge of the horizon. He offered Harry a simple nod in farewell and said, "Don't be a stranger Harry." before walking away.

Harry breathed in the evening air, and let it back out in a long sigh. He hadn't felt so relaxed in such a long time. He'd spent his day doing almost nothing, and yet, didn't regret a single second. And on top of that, it felt like he'd made a lasting friend.

Long days at the docks never particularly bothered Draco, but they did leave him feeling a distinct exhaustion throughout the entirety of his body. The endless afternoons of sun soaking into his skin and the effects of heavy lifting were never more apparent than in those first few moments after he'd sat down for the first time in hours.

Draco stretched out his lengthy legs beneath a wobbly table in Very Berry Bakery as the setting sun's rays beamed in through one of the windows. The suncatchers reflected a myriad of colours across him and the woman sitting across from him as they sipped at drinks and nibbled on the various desserts left behind before close. It wasn't particularly windy, but a few chimes still rang out occasionally as they knocked against each other just outside.

"He's cute," Cal commented, and she shoved a rather large forkful of strawberry pie into her mouth before closing her eyes in bliss. She let out a low moan, and leaned back in her chair, clearly enjoying the flavours to the fullest.

Draco sipped at his tea carefully before nodding in approval. She was getting better at brewing it, though it had taken time. No one here had the knack for that particular art, at least not until Draco had insisted they learn. Nothing beat a good cup of tea in the evening after a hard day's work. "Who?" he asked, turning to look out the windows, but there was no one there.

She set her fork down on her empty plate with a clink and said, "You're little green eyed lion of course."

Draco's face fell and turned to glare at her annoying smirk. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Oh-ho, sensitive much."

"Piss off."

"I do so love getting under your skin," she teased.

"You and Aster both."

Draco took another sip of his tea, and glanced up at her through the steam. Her fiery red hair was akin to a Weasley's though perhaps even more vivid in colour, closer to that of ripened raspberries. It swirled around her in long waves, wild like weeds, and she didn't bother to tame it in the least. There was flour streaked throughout it, and bits of jam just beneath her ear. Typical. He held his tongue despite his instinct to do otherwise. She wouldn't have cared a lick for his criticisms anyway. It would just be wasted energy.

"For real though, what's this I hear about you being old school buddies?" she pried, and Draco pursed his lips.

"We aren't buddies," Draco sneered. She raised an eyebrow and Draco narrowed his eyes in response.

"Ex-Lovers perhaps?"

Draco spat out his tea, coughing as much of the liquid got stuck somewhere between his lungs and throat en route. He smacked at his chest repeatedly, Cal laughing at him all the way. He was just dabbing at his shirt when the bell over the door chimed and Harry Potter of all people walked in.

"Fucking hell," Draco hissed under his breath. He coughed discreetly a few more times and scrutinized Harry out of the corner of his eye as the shorter man looked around. The exact moment Harry spotted them sitting at the table in the corner was obvious, as he flinched and immediately turned away. He glanced towards the door, clearly considering leaving entirely, then towards the counter, at which no one stood. Of course. Since the bakery was Cal's and she was sitting right across from Draco.

Draco had never hated living in a small village as much as in that moment. He simply couldn't get away from the guy.

"Hey! It's Harry, right?" Cal spoke up, and Draco tensed, his fingers squeezing at the napkin he held.

"Cal, don't," he hissed under his breath, but she ignored him ruthlessly.

"Come here," she beckoned, waving Harry over eagerly with aggressive hand motions that were impossible to ignore. Harry looked at her, then at Draco, and back again before he took a hesitant step in their direction. Cal kicked out the chair between her and Draco and Harry sat atop it gingerly. "Have some tarts, fresh made this morning," she offered, already scooping several onto an empty plate.

Harry watched her pile it up with more and more treats, eyes widening as the large stack was slid across in front of him atop the table. "Oh, are you sure?"

"'Course."

She watched him avidly as he took his first bite, and then beamed when his entire face lit up in surprise and he exclaimed, "Wow! It's delicious!" Crumbs fell out of his mouth and he struggled to catch them in his palm, muttering an apology under his breath. Draco's eye twitched at the display. Something about it jogged a memory. A winter's day at noon, in the Great Hall for lunch as students arrived and left at will. Harry, sat by himself, munching away on treacle tart, and treating it like an absolute delicacy. He always had loved sweets. Even back then. Not that Draco had been looking.

"My name's Calista, but everyone calls me Cal," she introduced herself and Harry blinked at her curiously as he finished his first tart. She was a lot, if you didn't know her. She was also eight months pregnant, expecting twins, and sporting the belly to show for it. Her hand rubbed over it as if soothing the children.

"H-Harry."

Since when did Harry stutter like that? Draco's eyes narrowed and he took an angry bite of his scone. He sipped at his tea to wash it down and hid his probing gaze behind the china cup best he could. Cal grinned mischievously at him and Draco pointedly ignored it to return to his much more essential study of one Harry Potter. It hadn't been as apparent the night prior, in the low lighting of the tavern, but right then, in the light of the setting sun, he couldn't help but think Harry looked awfully tired. The circles beneath his eyes were prominent. And he was thin too, judging by delicate nature of his wrists. Almost as thin as he had been in the middle of the war. But then, Potter had always been on the slim side, showing up after summer holidays looking half-starved and withered around the edges. But he would have expected different now. Had he not been living his best life in the wake of the war? With all his loving and adoring fans. His devoted friends. His more than likely well-paying job at the DMLE.

"Do you run the bakery then?" Harry asked, finally taking a break from fawning over the baked goods. Draco glared at the pastries left on his plate and willed him to eat more. He clearly needed it.

"Bit of a shared experience, but yeah, it's mine mostly." Cal sighed and stared at the interior of the shop happily. "I love baking," she admitted.

"Ah, me too. Always found it relaxing," Harry gushed. He lowered his head and smiled a bit, tucking his hands between his legs almost shyly. Draco wanted to scream.

"Oh? Really! That's great!" Cal shifted in her chair and patted her belly gently. "I'm about to burst you see, and won't be able to bake for a while. It'd be great to have someone who could stand in for me for a bit. Can't let the townsfolk go without their treats and sweets after all." She tilted her head to the side and brushed some of her messy hair away before adding, "I could show you the ropes. There's not much to it. I usually just make whatever feels right in the moment. If you're interested that is."

Harry looked bewildered by the request, which for once, Draco completely identified with. He gaped at Cal in disbelief and fought against the urge throw his napkin in her face. What on earth was she thinking? "Oh, well…sure if I'm still here I suppose I could," Harry spoke quietly. At that Draco whipped his head back in his direction. He watched as Harry wiped his hands on his trousers and fought against the newer even more powerful urge to sneer in disgust.

Cal grinned a bit manically, and then leaned forward, pressing her palm atop the table. "Hey, we're having a pub night tomorrow," she started. "You should swing by The Blue Moon. Sort of a tradition on Wednesdays."

"Don't you mean every day," Draco shot. She kicked him beneath the table and Draco let out a pained grunt at the impact. Curse her steel-toed boots.

Harry watched them like they were a riveting Quidditch match, gaze flitting back and forth between the two of them avidly. "Are you two…," he began and both Draco and Cal stared at him aghast.

"Oh gods no!" Cal burst out. "He's gay as they come!" She laughed then and spluttered, "And can you imagine, me, with this hoity-toity, stiff as they come, overly proper highborn boy?"

"Hey!" Draco snapped. "Don't be uncouth. I'm sitting right here you know. And I'm not stiff." He pouted and made a point of uncrossing his legs and sprawling them outwards after he said it. Harry turned a brilliant shade of red that Draco was positive he'd never seen on him before, and he found himself doing the same just moments later when he realized why. The Malfoy family's second best kept secret, left in the tender loving care of the Saviour of the Wizarding World. Bollocks.

"O-oh, s-sorry," Harry stuttered.

"Don't apologize, best laugh I've had in a while," Cal jeered, and then she punched Draco teasingly in the arm. "Relax Draco. You're so easy to bother. I'm sure there's someone out there who's perfect for you." She stared at him for a touch longer than necessary, before sitting back in her chair and addressing Harry. "So, you'll come won't you? Everyone will be there. My actual m-er…partner too." Draco cringed at her near slipup and busied himself with pouring another cuppa.

Harry's gaze flicked between the two of them then lowered. He stared down at his plate for a moment, twisting one of the pastries around between his fingers.

"Might do," Harry nearly whispered. He took another bite, of something rich and chocolaty, and Draco tried not to obsess over the way he beamed at the flavour. There was just a hint of sun still sprinkling in through the windows now, casting the bakery in a multitude of cooler purples and blues. Draco was somewhat fixated on the way Harry's eyes sparkled like jewels beneath his glasses, and he tried and failed to keep himself from studying them for the rest of the evening. He breathed in through his nose and caught the faint scent of cinnamon and autumn leaves on the air. Very strange for the end of spring. He tried not to think too much about what it might mean.

AN: Hope you enjoyed chapter 2! Thanks so much for reading! Once again, the next chapter is already completed, so I'll have it up next week :).