Augusts 2, 1995
The late afternoon sun filters through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the grass where Draco and the boy lay, resting after a very productive afternoon. The boy's head rests in Draco's lap, his eyes closed contentedly as Draco's fingers gently comb through his dark hair.
After a comfortable silence, the boy opens his eyes entranced, gazing up at Draco with a soft smile. "You know," he murmurs, "with the sun behind you like that, you look like an angel."
Draco's hand freezes mid-stroke. His heart races as alarm bells ring in his mind. No pureblood would ever say such a thing – Muggle religions are considered blasphemous in his circles. He feels horror turn his stomach to ice.
That would mean he is a… mudbood.
For a moment, Draco feels a flash of disgust, years of ingrained prejudice surging to the surface. He did many intimate acts with a mudblood. It was a travesty, a betrayal to everything he believes in. And the worst part is he enjoyed every second of it. He needs to shove him away before it's too late and he gets caught.
But as he looks down at the boy's open, trusting face, he can't bring himself to pull away. He can feel his feelings for the boy growing stronger with each stolen kiss and confessed secret. The boy already knows more about the real Draco than his friends of fifteen years knew. Soon he worries he won't be able to stay away even if the boy turned into something as disgusting as a vampire.
"You say the oddest things," Draco says, forcing a laugh to cover his unease. He quickly changes the subject. "Tell me more about that levitating lemon bar you were working on."
As the boy launches into an enthusiastic explanation, Draco's thoughts whirl. He knows his father would disapprove – no, he would be furious if he knew Draco is knowingly associating with a Mudblood. But the thought of letting this boy go makes Draco's chest ache in a way he doesn't care to explore.
The scene dissolves, and Draco finds himself walking up the path to his family's summer villa. As he enters, his father's voice cuts through the air. Draco stifles his gasp of surprise as he takes in his fathers stiff frame. He hasn't seen him all summer except on the way in and out of his office followed by the shadows of his schoolmates fathers. Meetings he claimed in a important sounding voice that speaks of grand conquests and winning wars. It worries him because usually when his father gets like this it spells bad news for him, like the aftermath of the Quidditch World Cup. But his father promised that he had nothing to do with that and Draco trusted him more than anyone.
Just not with this.
"Draco. Where have you been?" Lucius asks, his tone sharp with suspicion.
There is something different in his father's demeanor, a dangerous edge that makes Draco's stomach churn with fear. His heart pounds and he is sure that his father can somehow sense the muggle residue that coats his lips from the kiss goodbye he gave the boy minutes ago. But he keeps his face neutral.
"Just exploring the village, Father. There's a rather interesting magical bakery I discovered."
Lucius studies him for a long moment before nodding. "Very well. Don't wander too far in the future. You never know what sort of... undesirable elements you might encounter."
"Of course, Father," Draco replies, relief washing over him as Lucius seems to accept his answer.
As he climbs the stairs to his room, Draco's mind returns to the boy in the park. He knows he is treading dangerous waters, but he can't deny the pull he feels. For the first time in his life, Draco finds himself questioning everything he's been taught to believe.
Draco's eyes snap open and he feels anxiety, his skin practically crawling with unease. Not even the meadow flowers around him can calm him down. He doesn't remember falling for any of his numerous paramours over the years. He barely even remembers their names once he tosses them aside and hunts for a new one. He just can't reconcile the version of him in the vision with who he thought he was during that period of his life.
Which mean these visions must not real, because how could he ever fall in love with someone so below him.
"Why are we in a pet shop?" Draco asks in a derisive voice.
Draco wrinkles his nose as the smell of fear and piss hits his nose. He frowns at all of the garish Christmas decorations and themed toys. He always hated muggle Christmas, any wix worth their salt knows the only real wizard holiday is Yule. He only came with Luna because she insisted that she felt a good feeling about him coming with her to run an errand. Draco hoped that good feeling meant a solution to him being sucked into the story, but no such luck.
"I want to get a bigger fish tank for Francis for Christmas for Mom," Luna says.
"Who is Francis?" he asks already knowing that he is going to regret asking.
"The goldfish father got Mother for Valentine's Day last year," Luna says, examining a row of different shaped glass tanks.
"And she named it Francis?" Draco mutters, sneering at a mini ceramic Christmas tree that Luna places in the cart.
"Green or blue rocks?" Luna asks, ignoring him, as she holds up too bags.
"Green," Draco says in a distracted voice, his eyes wandering over to the cat section, feeling the presence tugging him in that direction.
Luna smiles and puts the green ones in the cart, Draco doesn't notice they are the exact colour of Potter's eyes.
The closer he gets to the cat containers the stronger the presence tugs at him and the louder quieter the cats become. As Draco peers in the cages, he sees that each cats is huddled at the back of their container, their pupils large and their hair standing on end as their bodies quiver in fear. They let out low hisses at him, baring their sharp teeth. A sharp growl breaks his attention on the other cats as he finds himself in front of a cage a little further away from the others. A snowy white cat with strange dark markings on the top of its head and sides of its pelt crouches inside like it's about to pounce at the container door and claw Draco's eyes out. Its lamp-like yellow eyes narrow at Draco as he takes a step closer, noticing that the markings on its pelt almost resemble the distinct shape of owl wings.
"Wow, she really hates you doesn't she?" Luna says coming up behind him.
"How do you know it's a she?" Draco asks in an annoyed voice.
"Her name is Hedwig, it means Female Warrior, she does seem fierce," Luna says pointing at the sign above the cage Draco failed to notice.
"She likes yeh," a familiar voice says from his nightmares behind them as Hedwig lets out another fierce hiss.
Draco turns around to see the giant oaf whose class caused him to get his arm slashed open.
"You call that liking?" Draco asks in an incredulous voice, the oaf is just as crazy in this world as he is in his own.
The oaf wears a dopey grin and says, "She jus a little feisty,"
"That's one way to put it," Draco mutters, taking a step back as Hegwig's paw reaches through the container door with claws out.
"Will yeh be taking her then?" the oaf asks.
He starts to say no before the word yes slips out of his mouth. Luna looks at him with shock while the oaf crows with joy.
"She'll be so happy. We've had the hardest time selling her, I have no idea why."
"Really?," Draco says in a sarcastic voice.
A few minutes later the oaf has the mini harpy locked in a plastic cage, the monster glares at him with hate-filled eyes.
"Oh Draco look at this," Luna says in an excited voice holding up a black leather collar covered in frosted mistletoe and a gold bell.
"Absolutely not,"
They walk out of the store with Luna carrying a deeply unhappy Hedwig in her container, the bell around the cat's collar jingling with her every step.
"Did you buy her for Harry?" Luna asks as they stow the she-beast in the back seat.
"Why would you think that?" Draco growls.
Luna raises an eyebrow at him, "Because the rest of us would be tempted to eat her."
"Maybe I bought it as a snack for later," Draco says defensively.
Luna snorts, "Whatever you need to tell yourself."
Harry wakes up to a rare morning with a quiet house and stumbles out of bed, throwing on a worn sweater that was once Sirius's. Once downstairs he spoils himself with an egg and a piece of toast and starts a load of laundry and marinades chicken breasts for later. Then he grabs a blanket from the closet and a book and heads to the backyard, while he waits for the laundry to finish. He spreads the blanket in the grass and lays down luxuriating in the temperate day with no rain. He is a few pages into The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe when he hears loud hissing and screeching and the sound of a bell. He freezes as he listens to a human-sounding low growl and watches as the brush on the outer edge of the wood shifts and shakes.
"Is someone there?" he asks in a hesitant voice, sitting up with careful movements.
A white cat bursts out of the brush as the words leave his mouth, running straight at him and leaping at his chest. Harry gasps as the heavy warm weight bowls him over and knocks him back down on the blanket. The ball of fur starts purring loudly and cuddles into him and Harry feels something in his chest melt as a gentle smile spreads across his face.
"Hello," Harry murmurs in a soft voice, his hand carefully petting the cat's patterned head.
"You're a pretty kitty, aren't you, darling," Harry coos, and the cat seems to purr louder in response, nipping softly at his fingers, its smug eyes staring at an unknown spot in the trees as if in challenge, "What is your name, precious?"
Harry turns the collar reading the name painted in fancy gold script, "Hedwig? Is that your name, girl?"
The cat meows, rolling around in his lap, making her bell ring.
"A beautiful name for a beautiful cat," Harry compliments, wishing to the bottom of his heart he could keep her, "But I can't keep you,"
For now, he decides to pretend that he can, if only for a little while. He sits back down and opens his book, inviting Hedwig to lie beside him. She curls into his side as he continues to read, his eyes drooping with every page he turns until they fall shut completely.
Draco creeps out of the forest where he watched Potter regard the cat with the same softness he used to witness between Harry and his owl across the Great Hall. He used to be so jealous of their relationship, his eagle owl, Artemis, barely giving him a passing glance. It confused him because he offered Artemis the best treats and the best toys to no avail. He understands why now, he sees how tightly Potter holds onto those he loves, sees the care he puts into his relationships. How Potter treats strangers better than Draco used to treat his friends.
When Draco is a few feet away from the blanket, the cat hisses at him and Draco glares at it putting a finger over his lips.
"Quiet, you mongrel, you are going to wake him up!" he hisses.
Somehow the cat seems to understand him and falls silent as Draco closes the distance between them. He sinks onto the blanket, eyeing the dark circles under Potter's eyes with irritation.
"Why don't you ever take care of yourself, you idiot?" he grumbles as he picks up the book Potter was reading and lies on the edge of the blanket.
At least he is sleeping now, he thinks. Without thinking about the why, he slips his hand into Potter's limp one as the boy mumbles Draco's name and rolls closer to him. Draco feels a weird fizzing energy in his limbs, but he dismisses it as his body's reaction to the cold. He scans the first few pages before he finds himself growing bored. Giving up he blurs to Potter's room and retrieves the book he started last night but was unable to finish due to Theo texting him wondering where he was.
He runs his fingers across the glossy cover, tracing the cursive letters spelling out the words, "Swan Lake by Bathilda Bagshot," It was the author's name that originally caught his attention but the gorgeous graphics that kept it. As did the dedication to Regulus Black- Potter. It embarrasses him, his addiction to a childrens book, but he's made so many concessions to his belief system in this world, what is one more?
Draco flips through the colorful pages full of enchanted forests and old timey castles, absorbing the story of Odette and Odile, secret brothers torn apart at birth. He watches as they both fall in love with Prince Siegfried and Odile works with his father to come up with a plan to get Odile the crown and the prince. Though unbidden his eyes glance to Potter and their intertwined hands when he reads about Von Rothbart, who performs the curse on Odette, trapping him in the form of a swan during the daylight hours. There is that strange twisting in his chest again. He holds his breath as he witnesses Odile's waning faith in his father's plan in the face of Odette's pain and his realization that what they are doing is wrong.
Draco is so absorbed in the book that he doesn't notice when a couple hours have passed, until he hears Potter shiver beside him. He looks up in confusion and sees the sun set low in the sky and feels the air gathering a more biting chill. Or he would if he were human, that is. Instead he just feels the idea of cold against his skin but no discomfort. Potter shivers again and Draco without missing a beat slips out of his jacket and covers him with it.
"Tu vas prendre froid avant que j'aie une chance de te faire en moi-même," he murmurs, tucking the fabric tight around the boy's body.
The cat gives him a suspicious look but lays her head back down, deciding it isn't worth pursuing. Draco lays aside the book still shaken from Odile's unexpected sacrifice despite reading it several times as if through repetition the ending might change. He glances at Hedwig and pokes the cat on the head, causing her to hiss at him again.
"Come on you, we have to get going, back in the cage, he can't take care you right now,"
Hedwig growls at that statement, but with one last reluctant lick to Potter's hand, she stalks back to the edge of the forest. Draco's fingers tremble with anticipation as he reaches out to gently stroke Potter's cheek. A shiver runs through his body as he feels the warmth of Potter's skin under his touch. He can't help but smile as Potter nuzzles into his hand, seeking more of his affection.
"Sweetheart, it's getting too cold for your fragile human body, you need to get up," Draco whispers close to his ear, giving Potter's shoulder a gentle shake.
With a low, groan, Potter's eyes screw shut as he struggles against the pull of waking up. Draco never thought he would envy such a terrible sensation, but after months of not getting to experience it he does. He allows himself to linger for a few more moments, savoring the ability to view Potter up close. Meanwhile, Potter stretches his body out, his eyelids still heavy with sleep. As Draco blurs away, the echo of his name lingers on Potter's lips, muffled and slurred by drowsiness.
The only proof that he was there at all.
Draco smiles like an idiot as he slips what according to Luna is a winning scratch off for three hundred dollars into the monster cat's collar and places her on top of the motorbike seat. She puts up with this indignity about as well as any cat usually does, growling and puffing up her impressive tail when Draco touches her. He likes to think he might be growing on her.
Harry walks into the cafeteria and almost has a heart attack.
Draco is not sitting with his siblings. Harry doesn't care, he really doesn't. It's not like needs to thank Draco for comforting him after his breakdown. Harry decides to spend the meager money he is not spending on Hedwig's care on gas and grabs a soda.
"Oh, Harry I forgot to tell you that Draco asked to sit with us at lunch, I said yes since I know you sit by him in Bio and are his partner in gym class."
Harry almost drops his soda as he stumbles.
"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione asks, looking at him with concern.
He doesn't know how to answer her, because at that moment he sees Draco sitting at their table facing down the stars of both Fred and George. Neville looks awkward and keeps eyeing the door and Astoria looks entertained beyond means. Ron just looks deeply embarrassed like he wishes he could be anywhere else as Draco finishes saying something. Draco spies them and gives them both a little wave. Hermione beams at him and waves back.
"I think I'm going to eat in the library." Harry says feeling even more sick.
"Harry James-Regulus Swan, you will do no such thing. Don't be rude, come sit with us." Hermione says, in her voice.
Harry moves on robot stiff legs dropping into the only seat left at the table which is of course right next to Draco.
"Hermione!" Draco cries with a smile, enveloping Hermione in a hug.
"I thought she was Stanley?" Harry mutters.
"Things changed Swan." Draco says with barely a glance in his direction.
Harry scowls at the back of his head and opens his soda, taking a sip.
"Draco, aren't you going to eat your lunch? Whatever's in that bottle can't be that filling." Hermione says with a frown eyeing the steel water bottle in front of Draco and his full lunch spread that is sitting untouched.
Draco wears a strange expression as he says, "You'd be surprised. It's a protein shake, my siblings and I have a dare going on to see who can last the longest eating only them for lunch. Our mom is unaware of this though and is still packing us lunch. She would disapprove if she knew."
Harry glances at the Cullen table and sure enough each of them has a steel bottle and untouched lunch in front of them as well.
"Your mom still makes your lunches?" Fred asks, in a judgmental tone.
Harry feels something in his chest spark in his chest in jealousy, but he focuses on the anger that Fred's words bring. He interjects,
"Doesn't your mom still do your laundry, Fred?"
Beside him George snickers.
"She's your mother too, you twit," Fred snaps at him.
"Yes, but I do my own laundry," George says sticking his tongue out at him.
Draco raises his eyebrow at Harry's outburst.
Fred turns as red as his hair as he sputters, "Well that's perfectly normal-"
"But having your mom making your lunch isn't?" Harry demands.
Fred scowls at Harry and Harry glares back at him.
"That can't be healthy." Astoria says with a sniff defusing the situation, looking at the water bottle with distaste.
Draco gives her a reassuring smile, and Harry feels something in him bristle remembering what Hermione told him about them dating.
"I agree you should at least eat something solid, I would hate for you to faint during class," Hermione says in a disapproving voice.
"I assure you it is. I read my father's medical journals and it all checked out." Draco says with a small smile.
Across the room, Harry hears Pansy snorts at a joke one of her siblings tells her.
"If you say so," Hermione says in a hesitant voice, "What are you going to do with the food? It's wasteful to throw it away."
Ron perks his head up in interest and Hermione gives him an irritated look.
"Honestly Ronald you are not actually thinking of asking Draco for his food, are you? You have already eaten four pieces of pizza, as it is. If anyone should get Draco's food, it should be Harry. He hasn't eaten anything today,"
"No," Ron mutters looking deflated.
"Swan would never finish my Phaal, it is too spicy for his delicate palate to handle," Draco says.
"You don't know that!" Harry says indignant.
"Do you want to bet?"
"Boys, there's no need for this," Hermione says trying to interrupt them but they both ignore her.
Draco wears a challenging smile, all but daring Harry to run away.
"What do I get if I win?"
"I tell my mother to make whatever you want for as long as I stay in the challenge. Which should be a while, I don't like to lose."
"Neither do I. You're on." Harry says.
Draco gives him a devious grin before he hands him a clear container with dark red sauce and chunks of meat floating in it. Harry takes it, his stomach growling and shoves a mouthful into his mouth. His tongue immediately lights on fire and he starts choking. He forces himself to swallow though he refuses to lose to Draco.
Draco gives him a pleasant smile, "How is it?"
"Delicious." Harry rasps after swallowing a few more mouthfuls.
"It is a spice level six."
Harry tries to smile but he has a feeling it looks more like a grimace.
"Oh I thought it was a one," Harry says in between coughs.
Ten minutes later Harry manages to finish it and keep it down. He is sweating from every pore in his body and his stomach is on fire. It is worth it though to wipe the satisfied smirk off Draco's face.
"Congratulations Swan, what will your first meal be?" Draco hedges looking disappointed.
"Ummm…" Harry tries to think of something he really wants but comes up blank.
"PB&J?"
Draco sighs a long-suffering sigh.
"You are hopeless, Swan."
Mr. Slughorn pulls out a TV on rolling wheels, pushing it in front of the classroom.
"Today we are going to watch a video on the…" Harry tunes him out knowing what is coming next.
The reality of the situation is that Slughorn doesn't want to teach today so he is going to put on some video from the Stone Age and have them watch that instead. Harry puts his head on the desk prepared to face let another class of radio silence from Draco. He figures that lunch was just some strange fluke of the universe that is bound to happen every once and a while. As the light flips off, a strange buzzing sensation bombards his limbs, making them feel stiff in the darkness surrounding him, but he brushes it off as tiredness.
He waits for Slughorn to fall asleep and predictably Slughorn does a few minutes into the opening credits of the 'movie'. He envies him. He hadn't been sleeping as well because of his alternating dreams about Draco and the haunting one of Sirius falling into a strange stone arch. Harry fills out the follow along worksheet in seconds and sets it aside scoffing at how simplistic the answers are. Something pokes Harry in the arm and he glances in the direction in surprise. Draco mirrors his tight position, his sunshine eyes boring into his. On the table between them is a piece of parchment paper with the words,
*Hello
written on it. Harry raises his eyebrow at the paper and almost writes, This is different. Instead, he writes down a quick,
You acted….different at lunch today.
Harry watches Draco give him a mirthful smile as he pulls the paper back and writes,
*I decided if I'm bound for hell I might as well go all in.
Harry frowns at the paper in confusion as Draco pushes it back to him. What the hell does that mean, he wonders.
"I'm not sure what you mean.
Draco continues to wear his smirk as he takes the paperback.
*I know.
*I think your friends are angry with me for stealing your attention.
Harry snorts remembering Ron's angry posturing and Fred and George's jealous looks. Then he looks around in embarrassment wondering if someone heard him. No one looks at him though, their gazes glazed as they stare at the TV.
They'll survive.
*But I may decide to keep you
Something dark and dangerous that craves attention and risk shivers in Harry but he pushes it back where it belongs. Draco's just trying to rile him up. Draco releases a soft laugh.
*Are you worried?
No. Surprised. I thought you were trying to keep your distance.
*I'm giving up.
Giving up?
Harry feels a trace of disappointment. He wonders what it means.
*Yes - I'm just going to do what I want for once, consequences be damned
A strange tightening starts in his chest. He thought Draco wanted to date him and was desperate in fact to do so. Could he have changed his mind? Decided Harry wasn't worth the trouble? Harry already knew that from his string of failed lovers, but a small part of him hoped Draco was different. No one before him had pursued Harry this long or with this much determination. An insidious voice in his head said no one who looks like Draco would ever love him anyway. It makes him wonder if Draco faked it the entire time, just to mess with Harry, but it makes no sense. Why then would Draco now want to be his friend?
I think I'm confused again.
*I always speak my mind with you- it's a real problem.
Harry always thinks he doesn't say enough.
Does it matter when I don't understand any of it?
Draco winks at him.
*I'm hoping you don't
So, in British English, we are friends.
Draco snorts.
*Friends…
Or not…
*Well, we can try. But I'm not the sort of person you take home to meet your parents.
Harry resists the urge to write, it's a good thing I don't have parents then but doesn't want to be too dark.
I have heard that before,
*I imagine you have a history of ignoring it when people say it.
Harry blushes as he reads Draco's words.
I get it. Do you think I'm dumb?
Draco gives him a mere shrug in apology. Harry figures this is the best he will get. Something in his chest loosens knowing that Draco is talking to him again.
So, if I stay dumb, will we try to be friends?
*For now.
A minute passes as Draco stares deep into his eyes, his concentration focused on Harry. Draco turns away sighing in frustration.
*What are you thinking?
Harry shakes off the sensation of getting lost in the gold color of Draco's eyes and doesn't even notice the words he writes down until Draco steals the page.
I'm trying to figure out how you stopped that car.
Draco gives him a patronizing smile and Harry resists the urge to stick his tongue out at him.
*Any good guesses?
Harry makes a face.
No.
Draco gives him a superior look and probes Harry further, his eyes merry.
*Tell me one of your guesses.
Draco's, so I can laugh at them goes unsaid, but Harry hears it all the same. He shakes his head, avoiding Draco's eyes.
I know you will just laugh at me.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Draco scowl at him, his eyes drilling a hole in Harry's head again.
*You frustrate me when you say no.
Harry growls in anger, thrown by Draco's Jekyll and Hyde mood swings and unreasonable asks.
Of course not. It's perfectly understandable why that would be frustrating - having someone constantly withholding their thoughts from you, and making vague comments that steal your sleep at night trying to decode them...why would anyone find that frustrating?
Draco tries to take the paperback, but Harry holds onto it, continuing to write.
Imagine someone who not only saved your life in unprecedented circumstances but also acted strangely towards you the very next day, without ever explaining their behavior despite their promise to do so. That would certainly not be frustrating at all.
*You've thought hard about this, haven't you?
Harry scowls.
I have had a lot of time, with you ignoring me.
Draco gives him an irritated look, as Harry glares at him, daring him to contradict him. Draco's eyes lose focus, and he snickers a nasty sneer on his face.
What?
Draco looks at him with a self-satisfied smirk.
*Your boyfriend believes I'm being rude to you and is unsure if he should intervene in our argument.
Harry doesn't even bother to glance over at Fred.
Fred is not my boyfriend.
*Tell that to him.
There's no way you know what he is thinking anyway.
*Most people wear their thoughts on their faces I find.
Except me, of course.
This seems to frustrate Draco and he gives Harry an imploring look.
*Yes. Except for you.
Harry meets Draco's eyes with a teasing smile, a soft ache in his heart. This feels different. Nice. Maybe being friends won't be so bad.
Will you do something for me?
The lights flash on, directing his stare to the front of the classroom. He was so wrapped up in talking to Draco he didn't even notice that the bell rang and class was over. Draco steals the paperback and pushes it into his bag. He stands up and throws it over his shoulder.
"Gym?" he asks with a taunting smile.
Harry gets up signing, preparing to be beaten at every game by Draco.
Draco stands in the middle of his kitchen, surrounded by pots, pans, and various ingredients.
Pacing back and forth in a frenzy, Draco's mind races with thoughts of failure until Lilly appears in the doorway, a knowing smile playing on her lips. She takes one look at his distressed face and leans against the counter next to him. She doesn't ask him what the problem is, instead, she asks,
"How can I help?"
"I volunteered to make Harry lunch, but I still don't know how to cook,"
Her face softens reminding him so much of his mother that his heart aches.
"Of course, what are we making?"
Draco's expression turns to one of confusion.
"All I know how to do is make tea. I'm not even sure where to start on making human food."
Lily shakes her head, a burst of laughter escaping her lips.
"You never do things by halves do you," she says with a snort.
Draco feels himself tingle with embarrassment as he realizes that he should have planned this better.
"I'm happy to help in any case," she says with a smile, "And I know just the place to start,"
She quickly links her arm with his and leads him towards the garage. As they walk, she explains that humans purchase their food at large shops called 'grocery stores' - similar to the plant shop but for sustenance instead. The stores would be filled with rows upon rows of shelves, stocked with various foods and ingredients. Once purchased, these items are stored in larger versions of the cooling container from the kitchen known as a 'fridge'. The concept is still foreign to Draco, but he can't help but feel intrigued by this muggle way of life.
The drive to the store is short with Lily's driving and they park outside of a large blocky building called 'Forks Outfitters'. The grocery store is a bustling hive of activity, but Lilly navigates the aisles with ease, grabbing a cart like they did at the plant shop.
"So what are we making?" Lily asks.
"Umm… I am not sure," Draco says making that appalling sound that Potter makes when he is unsure of what to say.
"Well, what does he like to eat?" Lily asks.
Draco is about to say he has no idea, but then his perfect vampire memory overrides him, "Treacle tart, Yorkshire pudding…simple food, nothing too spicy,"
"French food," he says thinking of the Hog's Head.
"We can work with that," Lily says with a thoughtful smile.
She goes through various aisles picking up ham, potatoes and Swiss cheese, frozen mixed vegetables, cream, bread crumbs, lemon and butter. He looks at her in confusion as she moves to the 'baking aisle' and adds golden syrup, flour, and sugar to the mix.
"What could we possibly make with these ingredients?" he asks.
Lily winks at him, "Something that has never existed before, but is about to,"
With groceries in tow, they make their way back to the industrial kitchen. Lily immediately sets to work, pulling out pots and pans and directing Draco on how to use them. The rhythmic clanging of metal against metal echoes through the room as he slices potatoes, sautés ham, and vegetables together. Under Lily's watchful eye, he also learns how to knead pie dough for a flaky crust and prepare other dishes.
By the time they are finished, the once-tidy kitchen is transformed into a chaotic mess of food splotches and spills. But standing proudly on the counter are two masterpieces. One is a strange 'mish mash' as Lily calls it between a Monte Cristo and a shepherd's pie. Its golden mashed potato crust is filled with layers of savoury ham, mixed vegetables, and melted Swiss cheese. Beside it sits two dozen mini treacle tartlets, each adorned with a dollop of freshly whipped cream. Lily scolded Draco when he reached for the 'Redi-whip' canister at the store, insisting on using only homemade whipped cream in her kitchen.
"I can't believe we just did that," Draco says in a quiet voice, already knowing what his father would think of him for using so many muggle devices but not finding it in himself to care.
"You did everything. I just directed you," Lily says with a soft smile, "I am really proud of you, Draco"
Draco feels a strange warm glow that usually only his father and on the odd occasion Severus could produce in him.
"Thanks, Mother," Draco finds himself saying before he can even think about it.
Lily wears the most heartbreaking look of hope on her face as she smiles back at him.
"You're welcome, son,"
"Spider-Man is your favorite superhero?" Fred asks Astoria, his face twisted in horror. "But he's so basic,"
Ron groans, rolling his eyes. "She only likes him because she thinks Tobey Maguire as Peter Parker is cute and sensitive,"
Harry watches as Astoria's face clouds over with indignation. He can almost see the steam coming out of her ears.
"I do not like Spider-Man just because I find Toby McGuire attractive," Astoria snaps, her voice dripping with disdain.
"He's more interesting than other heroes. He completely revolutionized the world of comics."
She pauses, taking a deep breath. Harry braces himself for the incoming tirade.
"You only think he's basic because all the others copied Stan Lee's formula," Astoria continues, her words rapid-fire, "Peter is relatable and quick-witted. There was no one else like him at the time!"
George turns his interested gaze to Astoria, intrigued by her passionate defense of Parker.
"She makes a valid point," George says with a wink at Fred.
Fred frowns and looks at Harry.
"Who is your personal favorite, then?" he asks, inviting Harry into the discussion.
Harry, however, is lost in his own thoughts as Draco's cold strong thigh presses against his own under the lunch table. He takes another bite of the surprisingly delicious shepherd's pie and treacle tart, using it as an excuse to buy himself some time. Both dishes are so good, and Harry can't help but wonder if Draco's mother is a skilled cook to have reinvented such a classic English recipe with such success. Leaning closer to Harry, Draco whispers in his ear, causing shivers to run down his spine.
"Fred wants to know who your favorite, superhero is, he is hoping you will agree with him on Iron Man," Draco says, his voice playing over the words Iron Man in a slightly confused tone.
Harry fights back a shiver as Draco's cool breath brushes his ear.
"Magneto," Harry says, saying the first name that comes to his mind.
Fred gives him a leering grin, "That's a villain, Harry,"
Draco gives him a curious look and Harry feels himself heat up, wishing he would have given his answer some more thought before blurting it out.
"I meant to say-"
Hermione sighs in irritation because she knows nothing about superheroes and like Neville hasn't been able to participate in the conversation for a while. In almost a desperate voice she cuts off Harry's defensive reply,
"Is there anything new with you, Harry,"
Harry thinks about it shifting through the useless observations that he collected about Draco, like he wears some shade of green every Friday, that the 'quills' that he writes with are eagle feathers and when Draco is frustrated his eyes turn a shade darker.
He assumes Hermione doesn't want to hear these things.
"I got a cat," he says at last.
Hermione and Neville light up and even Astoria leans in looking interested.
"Do you have any pictures?" she asks.
Harry pulls out his phone and shows them his pictures of Hedwig sitting on his motorcycle with the mini bike helmet he bought her.
"Oh wow she looks like a little badass," Fred exclaims, stealing the phone from the girls.
Draco sneers, "She has a good deal more pure royal blood, than you do Fredrick, even her posture is better than yours,"
"She is very well-behaved," Harry says before Fred can respond to Draco's teasing.
Harry is still not sure what to make of the posturing match that him and Draco seem to be conducting.
"She's clearly a rebel, just look at that glint in her eyes," Ron says, leaning over Fred.
"She's very fiery," Harry says with a smile remembering the way that she shredded apart a white peacock toy he had bought because it reminded him of Draco for some reason.
"What's her name?" Neville asks looking at the cat with awe.
"Hedwig, it was on her collar when I found her," he says.
"You just found her and you didn't take her to the vet? The cat could have diseases," Fred exclaims.
"And when was the last time you went to the vet? You're practically an animal yourself, and I'm sure you are overdue," Draco hisses.
"She didn't look like a stray to me, her fur was clean and she looked well-fed," Harry says trying to diffuse the tension at the table.
"You can never be too careful," Fred says with a glare at Draco.
The next day the same thing happens as yesterday. Mr Slughorn rolls out a TV and slips in the same educational video. When the light turns off the buzzing starts in his muscles again and he hunches down on the lab table. Draco smirks at him as he copies his pose. Then he pulls out the paper from yesterday and passes it to him.
*What do I get in return?
Harry takes the paper reorienting himself into the conversation.
Is everything always transactional with you?
*Yes
Harry sighs.
What do you want?
*Something equal to whatever you ask for.
Nothing huge. I just want a heads-up before you decide to stop talking to me.
Draco laughs under his breath.
*Done
Harry wears a small smile on his face.
Thanks.
*Now it's my turn. I have a request for you.
Harry wonders what Draco could want from him.
Yes.
*Tell me one theory.
Shit, his stupid impulsiveness, Harry thinks, his heart rate speeding up. His handwriting is quick and messy as he writes
I change my mind.
Draco's unmovable face regards him.
*You can't back out of a deal once it is struck.
Harry gives Draco the stink eye.
Like you've never done that.
Draco smirks looking unrepentant.
*We are not talking about the past; this is about now.
Harry reaches forward to crumble the paper in his hands and ignores Draco for the rest of the class. Let's see how he likes the silent treatment, but then Draco's hand settles over his, forcing him to pause. His cool fingers stroke Harry's hot skin.
*Please?
Draco tilts his and looks right into Harry's soul with heat-filled eyes making his insides melt.
Yes?
*Just one answer?
Harry's brain short circuits.
Spider-Man's origin story?
Draco looks thrown by that answer. He raises one of his immaculate eyebrows, the corner of his lip twitching.
*What?
Harry looks at Draco in confusion. Who doesn't know Spider-Man's origin story?
He's from Marvel comics and movies. He was bitten by a radioactive spider.
Draco chuckles at the words as he reads them.
*No.
Given a green ring by a dying alien?
Draco's smile is hard and taunting.
*Not even close.
Hit by cosmic rays while in space?
*No.
Radioactivity?
*None.
Hmm
Draco's soft breathy laugh caresses his ears, filling his senses with the smell of mint and apple.
*Where are you even coming up with these answers?
Harry shrugs.
They are superhero origin stories and you promised not to laugh remember.
Draco shrugs.
I won't stop until I solve your mystery
Draco's expression turns dark.
*You might not like what you discover.
Because…?
*I'm not the hero in one of your made-up stories. I won't save you.
Oh.
*Are you finally getting it?
Harry thinks about it. About all of his interactions with Draco leading up to this one. He could be rude, like when he implied Ron was only Harry's friend for the fame and he could be cruel demonstrated when he froze Harry out. But…there were moments of unmistakable sweetness. The consistency of the apples, comforting him when the gossip about Collin got to be too much, sitting with his friends and talking to them at lunch. Then there was the not-so-small fact that he saved his life. He looks at Draco, taking in the toned lines of his face and the pointiness of his chin.
I think I am. You're trapped in a bad situation outside of your control.
Surprise shows on Draco's face, he tries to hide it, but Harry catches it before he can tuck it away. Draco tries to look unaffected as he writes,
*You don't know anything about me
He wears a wicked grin that draws him in and Harry leans forward as he writes his response.
I don't think you're the villain. Or at least not the biggest one in my life. You are too morally grey and indecisive as if you have yet to decide who you want to be.
Draco sneers at him, his hand clenched in a fist over Harry's.
Any other insights about me, Oh wise, Saviour?
Harry thinks for a moment, wondering if saying what he has been thinking for weeks is worth Draco's possible pushback.
I think the important question to ask isn't if you will decide to save me or not, but whether you can save yourself.
The bell rings again signaling an end to their conversation. Draco stows the paper once again and without a word they walk to the gym, Ron chattering on Harry's other side the entire time.
"I don't want to go to class, we are done with that movie so I can't sleep anymore." Ron groans in annoyance the next day as they sit at their usual lunch table, "At least we have the beach trip to look forward to this weekend."
"I still don't think we have the same concept of beach," Harry says to Ron, "Beaches are supposed to be hot and sunny, not cold and rainy."
"A beach is a beach. You can still swim, surf, and build a sandcastle at this beach, so it is the same as any you are used to." Fred says with a shrug.
Harry shudders thinking about actually getting into the water of this beach.
"Are you sure you don't want to go, Draco?" Hermione asks him, as she flips through her draft of the Daily Fork, incapable of taking a break.
Harry perks his head up with interest. Draco has been uncharacteristically silent today and it has Harry more curious than ever to uncover his secrets. Draco looks at Harry in consideration as he weighs his response. When he seems to decide something, he asks,
"What beach are you going to again?"
"The one down at La Push, The First Beach," Ron answers.
Draco grimaces, his eyes turning darker for a moment as he looks at his hands twisting in his lap.
"I have plans, but thanks for the invitation," he says in a polite voice that is the complete opposite of the one he used on the first day of interacting with his friends.
Sometimes Harry feels whiplash at how different Draco acts from when he first met him. The bell rings signaling the end of the lunch period before Harry can think to ask what his plans are.
"Do you want to skip Harry?" Ron asks as he reluctantly packs away his lunch.
Hermione swats Ron with her copy of the Daily Fork.
"Ronald, today they talk about the blood drive and do blood testing. It's important."
Ron looks relieved.
"Oh right! So, it will be an easy day then,"
Hermione glares at him, "That's not the point, people need this blood. It will save lives."
"I don't know Herm, I think a little skipping now and then is healthy," Draco says, playing with his napkin with disinterested fingers.
Fred looks put out that he has nothing to say against Draco's statement unless he wants to lose his troublemaker image. Draco's coq au vin turns to ashes in Harry's mouth at those words.
"Oh Draco, not you too! You're supposed to be the responsible one out of the boys." Hermione frets.
"You are not going to class?" Harry asks, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.
Draco shrugs his posture relaxed as he sips from his water bottle, his lips-stained blood red.
"I still remember everything from last year, so I don't see the point in doing it all over again," he says.
"Are you coming to gym at least?"
Harry finds it difficult to pinpoint the emotion in Draco's smile.
"No,"
Harry slumps in his chair, checking out of the rest of the conversation as he resigns himself to not seeing Draco for the rest of the day. Hermione's question to Draco breaks through his haze.
"Do you already know your blood type, Draco?" Hermione asks.
Draco shoots Harry an imperceptible glance, his eyes narrowed.
"I do."
As Harry is leaving their lunch table with Ron and Hermione to go to class Draco walks past him slipping a piece of paper in the back of his pocket. Harry watches as Draco pushes open the side door to go out into the courtyard, glancing back with a final wink before disappearing. He pulls the paper out and scans through their previous conversations until he gets to the end. Two words are written at the bottom in Draco's neat script.
You're wrong.
Draco reclines back in the driver's seat of his silver Volvo listening to Love Potion No. 9 by The Clovers float through the car, waiting for the day to end. But his mind is occupied with other thoughts - Potter and him are growing closer each day and it feels like the right time to put his medical plan into action. As much as he tries to push it away, Draco can't ignore the worry that creeps into his mind every time he sees the gaunt lines on Potter's face deepen despite his best efforts.
Suddenly, voices broke through his reverie, accompanied by the familiar scent of Potter. Without hesitation, Draco reaches under his seat for the emergency blanket he had stashed there - just in case of Potter-related emergencies - and steps out of his car to follow the scent. On the sidewalk outside of the school, Weasel Twin Two looms over what appears to be Harry's lifeless body. Panic grips Draco's chest like a vice as he rushes forward.
"What's wrong with him?" Draco demands his voice tight with worry.
The only thing keeping Draco from killing him is the faint sound of pulse beating from Harry's body.
"He just collapsed in the middle of class. I'm not even sure if he pricked his finger." Weasel Twin Two says his face almost as white as Harry's.
Without a word, Draco plants himself in front of Harry and quickly undoes his belt, determined to provide him with some better airflow. He pulls the blanket tightly over Harry's trembling body, tucking it in snugly. In a gentle gesture, he brushes his fingers over Harry's clammy forehead, feeling the beads of cold sweat that have formed there. Harry stirs at the touch, letting out a quiet moan as he weakly opens his eyes.
"Draco?"
"Yes, sweetheart I'm here," Draco whispers in a soft voice.
"Did you just call him, sweetheart? Is that like a nickname or something?" Weasel twin two, demands.
Draco suppresses a growl, with all his concentration on Harry he had forgotten the tosser was here.
"I don't see why that is any of your business. Unless you have a crush on him or something" Draco says in an arch voice.
Weasel twin two sputters, but Draco ignores him and turns his attention back to Harry.
Draco takes in Harry's chapped lips and rough voice and shifts out of his jacket, bunching it up and sliding it under Harry's legs to prop them up.
"Why did you do all of..that?" Weasel twin two with vague movements, his eyes guarded.
Draco narrows his eyes, "The blanket will keep him warm, loosening his belt and raising his legs will increase blood flow."
"Shouldn't we move him?" Weasel Twin Two asks, looking like a lost krup.
Pathetic, Draco thinks with a shake of his head, what are they teaching children in school these days?
"No," He snaps, feeling himself lean further over Harry in a protective fashion, "I don't know how hard he hit his head and if he has a concussion or not. It is not safe to do so until I know for sure."
Weasel Twin Two gives him a dubious look.
"How do you know all of this?"
"My father," Draco growls.
Weasel Twin Two seems to surrender to this and wears a glum but defeated expression. Draco pounces on it.
"Now go to the cafeteria and tell them one of the students passed out. Ask for orange juice, then get Nurse Pomfrey and bring her to us." Draco details to Weasel Twin Two, who surprisingly responds to the commanding tone of his voice and rushes off.
"How are you feeling, Harry?" Draco asks as he scraps the back of his knuckles down Harry's jaw.
Harry turns his head to meet his eyes.
"Don't move your head, idiot." Draco reprimands cupping the side of Harry's head with his hand to force him to be still.
He startles when Harry leans into the touch, his lips brushing Draco's thumb. Harry just grins.
"You have a terrible bedside manner," he mumbles.
"Answer the question, Swan." Draco hisses.
"You called me Harry earlier."
"Swan!"
"I'm fine. Really. I think I can sit up." he says, attempting to shift into a sitting position.
"Damn it, Swan, I will sit on you if I have to." Draco threatens, shoving his other hand on Potter's chest, holding him down with ease.
"I told you I'm fine." Potter cries struggling under him.
"I'll be the one to determine that," Mad-Nurse Pomfrey huffs, placing her worn leather bag on the ground with a thud.
The smell of antiseptic and herbs wafts from it, filling Draco's nose. She reaches inside and pulls out a bottle of cool orange juice, offering it to Draco who takes it gratefully.
Nurse Pomfrey raises an eyebrow at their positions and Draco feels Potter flush under his touch. As he moves back, relieved that Weasel twin two has stayed away, she sits gracefully on the soft grass next to Potter's head. Her fingers gently probe and examine the back of his head as she asks a series of questions that Draco recognizes from the book Severus had given him about concussions. He holds his breath, pleading for Potter to answer no to each one. Finally, he lets out a sigh of relief when Potter does just that.
Draco unscrews the cap of the orange juice bottle and helps to raise Potter's head so he can take a few sips. The cold liquid should soothe Potter's parched throat and give him some much-needed energy. All around them, the sounds of muffled conversations and footsteps fill the air as students and staff continue with their day, oblivious to the drama.
"You seem to only be suffering from low blood pressure, Mr. Swan, but that should wear off in a short time." Nurse Pomfrey says in a brisk voice, "Good thinking on raising his legs, Mr. Cullen, it helped keep him stable until I got here."
Draco nods once in acknowledgement, refusing to take his eyes off his patient until he finishes the bottle. Once he does, he tucks it in his pocket and gently lowers Potter's head.
"I trust you to see him to the office to call his relatives, Mr. Cullen." Nurse Pomfrey says as she gathers her things.
Potter's eyes widen at the mention of his relatives, and he moves to protest, but Draco silences him with a hand on his shoulder.
"I will see that he gets home," Draco promises in a silent message to Potter.
Nurse Pomfrey gives him a satisfied nod before she walks back to the school.
"Do you need help standing?" he asks, offering his hand to Potter.
Potter shrugs him off but turns white when he tries to stand on his own stumbling into Draco.
"Careful," Draco hisses, grabbing hold of Harry's arm.
Harry feels a jolt of electricity at Draco's touch, a mix of irritation and something else he can't quite name. He hates feeling weak, especially in front of Draco. Memories of the Dursleys' sneers whenever he was ill flood his mind, making him want to prove his strength even more.
"I'm fine," Harry huffs, walking forward with a determined look on his white face. His legs feel like jelly, but he'd rather collapse than admit it to Draco.
Draco grumbles, keeping his grip on Harry's arm as they follow him inside. Harry is acutely aware of Draco's cool fingers on his skin, steady and reassuring despite his protests.
"I could just carry you," Draco says as they make slow progress.
Harry's heart skips a beat at the suggestion. Part of him—a part he's not ready to acknowledge—is tempted to say yes, to feel Draco's strong arms around him. But his pride wins out.
"Bridal style? No, thank you." He tries to inject as much sarcasm into his voice as possible, hoping Draco doesn't notice the slight tremor in his words.
Draco snorts, and Harry feels a strange mix of relief and disappointment.
"I was thinking of throwing you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes."
Harry scowls at the mischievous glint in Draco's eye, fighting back a smile. He's starting to enjoy their banter, even if he'd never admit it out loud.
"Absolutely not," he growls, but there's less heat in it than he intends.
He realizes, with a start, that he trusts Draco—trusts him enough to argue, to show weakness, to let him help. It's a foreign feeling, and it both thrills and terrifies him.
"Your loss," Draco says with a shrug.
Once they reach the front office, Draco uses his charm to convince the secretary to let him bring Potter home without involving his relatives. When he returns, he finds Potter sitting on a chair with a nervous expression on his face, looking sicker than Draco remembers leaving him.
"So, do I have to go back to class?" Potter asks with a grimace.
Potter forced him to agree that if he couldn't convince the secretary to let Potter leave by himself, he would tell her he would be returning to class, rather than call his relatives to come get him.
Draco smirks, "Ye of little faith."
Potter's eyes go wide as he stands up, his heart beating rapidly under his frail skin.
"Thank you," Potter says in a hesitant voice.
"Of course. Now let's get you home." Draco says walking out the main door and holding it open for Potter.
"Where are you going?" Potter asks, confused.
"Do you really think I am letting you drive that two-wheel death machine in the state you are right now?"
"I'm fine." Potter grumbles as he follows him through the parking lot, the blanket from Draco's car pulled tight around his shoulders.
He looks a bit like a petulant toddler, with pouty lips and Draco has to resist the urge to laugh. Potter's eyes light up with suspicion as a thought crosses his mind.
"What about my Firebolt? I can't leave it here. I wouldn't be able to get to school the next day." Potter complains.
"I'll get Blaise to drive it back. He has been wanting to take it for a joy ride."
"You're going to let him drive it back? Are you crazy? Is he wild and reckless? He'll crash it for sure." Harry says thinking of all the times Blaise narrowly hit a student in the parking lot on the day it was his turn to drive the Volvo.
"I'll have you know that Blaise possesses impeccable reflexes," Draco says with an amused secretive look.
"Ginny will kill him if gets so much as a scratch on it." Potter huffs.
"Telling him that will probably only encourage him, but I will keep that in mind," Draco says as he opens the door of his silver Volvo for Harry.
It's as clean and polished on the inside as he remembers from the day of the crash. He leans back on the luxurious cushions and breathes in the familiar scent of spearmint and apples. It relaxes him after a long day. Draco gives him an unreadable look, turning the key in the ignition. The car purrs to life and a song from the fifties plays through the speakers.
"We've got to stop meeting like this," Draco says with a sigh as he adjusts the setting on the dashboard, turning on the heated seats and cranking up the heat.
"Like what?" Harry asks, biting back a sigh at the rush of heat.
No matter how long he lives in Forks he doesn't think he will ever get used to the cold wet weather.
"You only get in my car when you've injured yourself," Draco says exasperated.
"Is that a future invitation, then?" he asks then curses himself for how awkward and flirty it sounds.
Draco and him barely maintain the awkward relationship of friendly acquittances, without Harry encouraging him to act like a self-absorbed jerk again. Harry's worries are unfounded though because Draco just smiles.
"Maybe," He says in that mysterious tone of his.
Draco messes with the dials on the radio, ejecting the disc in the player.
"I didn't mind that song," Harry says as he watches Draco pick up the CD.
Draco regards him with an amused expression sets the disk down and presses play, "Have a thing for love potions, do you, Swan?"
Harry feels his cheeks heat up and he looks away.
"Hey it's a good song, my godfather used to play it all the time when I was growing up." Harry protests as the familiar lyrics fill the small space.
"I like it too. Reminds me of simpler times," Draco says in a longing voice.
"I didn't know if it was day or night. I started kissin' everything in sight." he mumble-sings along with the lyrics, watching as the trees speed past the window.
The car hums softly as they drive, the rhythmic swish of windshield wipers keeping time with the pitter patter of rain. Harry watches droplets race down his window, each one distorting the passing scenery into a blur of green and grey. Just when Harry is sure they will spend the entire ride in silence Draco breaks it by asking,
"What was your godfather like?"
Harry smiles as he thinks about Sirius.
"Outgoing, brave, and loyal. A little reckless at times. When he gets excited about something it's hard not to get caught up in his joy and say yes to whatever he wants to do. He can be a bit disorganized and forgetful, so it is for the best that I involve myself in whatever he is doing anyways," Harry pauses thinking for a moment, "He's my best friend and one of the only connections I have left of my parents."
His voice turns sad at the thought of his parents.
"You miss him," Draco says, his face sympathetic.
"Yes," Harry says, aching at how much he means it.
It has been a while since he last called Sirius and he decides to do it tonight. They lapse into silence and Harry decides to turn the question on Draco, but the words stumble in his mouth, unsure how to politely ask what he wants to know.
"Do you still have…um. Are they still…? You know since you are…?" he says feeling wrong-footed after the silence.
Draco's fingers tightened imperceptibly on the steering wheel.
"Do I still talk to my parent because I am adopted?" Draco finishes with a laugh that doesn't reach his eyes.
"Yeah…"
"I'm not sure. I lost contact with them when I came here. For all I know they have been dead for months or even years, I would never know,"
Harry feels a pang in his chest, recognizing the raw pain in Draco's voice.
"But they are your family," Harry says, even though he doesn't quite believe that means much, it just feels like something you are supposed to say.
When he thinks about Dursleys and his father and Sirius's family and the way they treated them, it's hard to see family in a positive light. His own parents are little more than ghosts, so it's hard to use them as a comparison.
"I'm learning that family is more complicated than I previously thought," Draco says in an annoyed voice.
"Were you close?" Harry asks though he guesses from Draco's previous answer that they were not.
"Yes," Draco says and Harry flinches at Draco's harsh voice, "They were my entire world before coming here."
"I'm sorry," Harry says, feeling a strange sense of guilt even though he knows it's not his fault. Draco's eyes flicker to him, sharp and probing as if he agrees where the blame rests, before returning to the road. The silence stretches between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts.
"It's fine," Draco says not seeming to really mean it.
Harry ventures a look at Draco's stone-cold face. He seems lost in his own recollection of the past, his eyes creased with pain and Harry is hit with the urge to pull him out. Harry fidgets with the edge of his blanket, searching for a way to break the tension.
"So, um..." he starts, wincing at his own awkwardness. "Your adoptive parents... what are they like?"
Harry's curiosity mingles with a complex mix of emotions. Draco slowly breaks from his reverie and turns his eyes to meet Harry's. A small smile tugs at the corner of Draco's mouth, as some of the tension eases from his shoulders and softness in his eyes. It makes his breath catch.
"Yes," Draco says, his voice warm. "Lily is a great listener and good at giving advice. She always knows the right thing to say to make you feel better."
He thinks of his own unconventional family history - his two fathers, James and Regulus and then the years with the Dursleys before Sirius came back into his life. He feels a pang in his chest, wondering what it would be like to have a parental figure like that. He loved his parents, but he can't help but wonder how different things would have been if he had been given more time with them.
Draco continues, "Severus is an... intelligent, even though he's not very patient or a great teacher," he says with a grimace that makes Harry chuckle softly.
"But he's supportive of my goals no matter where they lead me. He always tells me the truth and encourages me to think for myself."
Harry absorbs this, struck by how different Draco's experience with adoption seems from his own tumultuous journey through family systems. He feels a complex mix of emotions - happiness for Draco, a twinge of envy, and a deep appreciation for the family he's built with Sirius and Remus, even if it isn't always perfect.
"Sounds like quite the pair."
"They are," Draco agrees, his smile growing.
"You love them," Harry says, summing up all of the emotions on Draco's face.
He tries to keep his voice neutral, but a hint of understanding creeps in. Draco seems to catch this, his gaze sharpening as he studies Harry's face.
"I am very thankful for them," he says, neither agreeing nor denying Harry's statement.
There's a pause, and then Draco adds softly, "It's not always easy, though. Sometimes I feel... guilty like I'm betraying my birth parents by caring for Lily and Severus."
The admission hangs in the air between them, weighty and vulnerable. Harry nods slowly, understanding all too well the complicated emotions that come with found family. He feels proud despite all the turmoil clear on Draco's face. The fact Draco is now able to admit to what he hinted at when he comforted Harry during his… episode is impressive.
"I get that," he says slowly. "After Sirius took me in, I sometimes felt guilty for being happy, like I was dishonoring my dads' memory. But I think... I think they'd want us to find happiness where we can, you know?"
Draco looks at him, surprise and something like gratitude in his eyes. "When did you get so wise, Swan?"
Harry shrugs, a small, bittersweet smile playing on his lips.
"Let's just say I've had some experience with complicated family dynamics. Between my dad and my father, the Dursleys, and now Sirius and Remus... well, I've learned that family comes in all shapes and sizes."
Draco nods, seeming to absorb this. "I suppose we both have, in our own ways."
For a moment, they sit in comfortable silence. Harry feels a newfound connection with Draco, seeing how similar they actually are.
Abruptly Draco changes the subject.
"Why did your uncle marry the w-Remus?"
Harry looks away, from the vulnerability still visible on Draco's face, feeling like he should give him some privacy. He can imagine how hard it must have been to adapt to a completely new environment after tricking yourself into thinking your life would always stay the same.
"They grew up together here in Forks and were inseparable during that time. When my dad, my father and Sirius moved to Phoenix he followed him there. They grew apart though the more reckless Sirius acted and everything blew up when Sirius was falsely accused of killing my parents in the car crash. They got in a huge fight when Remus didn't believe Sirius and Remus ended up walking out of their relationship. I don't know a lot of what happened during the years that Sirius fought and won his case against the court because I was at the Dursleys and Sirius doesn't like to talk about it. All I know is a few months before I came here Sirius got a call from him apologizing for everything. They talked back and forth for a few months until Remus got signed to the Phoenix Werewolves and they started dating. After that everything is history."
"They moved fast," Draco says.
"The attraction and feelings were already there; they just needed to figure out how to communicate again. How to balance the past and the present and build something new."
"You are very mature for your age Harry, are you sure you are only eighteen?" Draco teases.
Harry shakes his head smiling, "Someone has to be the grownup."
Harry is surprised when they stop in front of the Dursleys' house, it feels like he just stepped into the car. Draco looks at him, his expression sad with understanding.
"It shouldn't always have to be you though," Draco says in a heavy voice.
Harry isn't sure what to say to that. A part of him knows that Sirius and his relationship is flipped. That Sirius should be the one taking care of him, but the pattern of care runs so deep in him he doesn't know how to lay down the responsibility. It's why Draco's care feels so special and why he's so thankful for it.
"Thank you, Draco really. It means a lot to me that you drove me here." Harry says feeling his heart clench in his chest.
Draco's smile is soft and gentle as he looks at him.
"Of course Swan, anytime."
Harry feels a stab of guilt go through him and wonders if he is taking too much without giving anything back.
"Let me know if there is any way for me to repay you."
A mischievous look lights up Draco's face Harry notices Draco trying to hide. Harry feels his stomach sink at Draco's next words.
"Well there is one thing, but you'll probably say no."
"What is it?" Harry asks, imagining something horrible like helping Draco with math homework.
"I plan on going to medical school and I've been shadowing my father but I'm not allowed to help him with actual patients because I'm still in high school. So I need a volunteer test subject," Draco says.
"What sort of things would you be doing?" Harry asks, wary.
He's never been a fan of doctors, especially growing up with the Dursleys.
"Just basic check-up stuff. I'm not going to perform surgery on you or anything and I'll pay you for your time of course." Draco says with a chuckle.
"You don't need to pay me." Harry blurts out before he thinks about it.
Draco smirks at him, "At least let me take you out for dinner afterwards then."
"Okay," he says, realizing that without meaning to he has agreed to this strange arrangement.
"Swan," Draco says as he is getting out of the car.
Harry pauses, looking back into those yellow eyes, feeling the strangest thought that they should be grey.
"You seem to be accident-prone," Draco says with a smile, "Try not to fall off any cliffs this weekend,"
Harry scowls and slams the door on Draco's laughing face.