Chapter Text
Draco was just enjoying a lapdance at his favourite muggle strip club when he saw someone walk in. Usually, he was too preoccupied with the guy on his lap to even notice anything else, but his senses had been tuned to that hair, that walk, that posture. He had spent six years of his life obsessing over them and then some. So he was pretty sure Harry Potter had just walked into a gay strip club. The saviour of the wizarding world looked around. It was him. No doubt. It had been a few years since Draco had seen him last, on the platform of the Hogwarts express. Ever since then, they’d avoided each other. Even though their sons were best friends, it wasn’t that hard. Draco just dropped Scorpius off as early as possible, since he knew any family with Weasley in them would not arrive any earlier than absolutely necessary. Except for the Granger-Weasley family of course, but it was neither Granger nor Weasley Draco was avoiding so he didn’t mind running into them and having small talk. Harry Potter, on the other hand, was a completely different matter. Harry Potter was dangerous. And right now, Harry Potter seemed extraordinarily drunk. Draco didn’t even notice his lapdance had ended and the stripper had gone on to somebody else. His eyes were transfixed on the boy who lived. The man who almost stumbled into a couple that was making out quite graphically near the door. It just seemed so surreal. Of all the wizards who could have walked into this particular gay club in London, it had to be Harry fucking Potter. He hadn’t noticed Draco yet and Draco wasn’t sure whether he wanted to be noticed. For now, he decided to observe. Potter was looking around with a puzzled look that Draco would have rather expected on Weasley’s face. He had a little scruff, which made him look rugged and wore a sweatshirt Draco wouldn’t have been caught dead in. And he was still unfairly handsome, of course. He staggered towards the bar. Draco felt a little silly hiding behind a pillar and spying on Potter. He hadn’t done that in years. The golden boy sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. The bartender said something, probably about all the alcohol Potter had already consumed, but Potter made a dismissive gesture. When he had his drink, he leaned against the bar and let his eyes wander again. He looked like he was scanning the crowd. What was he scanning for? Then, Potter’s eyes met those of a muggle on the other end of the room. The guy smirked. Draco hated him. Potter smirked back. Draco’s blood froze in his veins. Before he could even fathom what he was doing, he made his way to Potter, always keeping an eye on the stranger. He had to reach Potter before that man. And he did.
“Now”, he purred into Potter’s ear. “What is the hero of wizardkind doing in an establishment such as this?”
Potter jumped and almost spilled his drink over himself. “Holy fucking hell! Malfoy!”
“Such words out of the mouth of the chosen one!”, Draco said. He couldn’t help the grin on his face. Potter scowled at him.
“Fuck off.”
He started to look around, but Draco said: “If you are looking for the… gentleman who was approaching you before, I am pretty sure he was scared off.”
“Gee, thanks!”, Potter said sarcastically.
Draco leaned next to him on the bar, signalling that he wasn’t leaving any time soon.
“So what are you doing here? Finally decided to live out your bisexual tendencies?” Draco really hoped he wouldn’t push Potter too far.
“Decided is one word for it.”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “Someone forced you to come here?”
“Don’t you read the prophet?”
“Why would I? They only have dreadful things to say about me and my family. And everything else is lies.”
“Well, Ginny is leaving me for Luna.”
That did indeed surprise Draco. Not that the youngest Weasley had turned out to be interested in women, no. But that she had chosen an airhead like Luna Lovegood over Harry Potter.
“And then she said she feels like I never got a chance to ‘explore’ this side of me since we got married just after the war and now I’m here.”
“Exploring”, Draco said.
“And anyway, what are you doing here, Malfoy? As far as I know, you are still happily married.”
Draco couldn’t help but laugh. “Potter, I know you had a lot to do with all your Saviour duties, but me being gay has pretty much been an open secret since our Hogwarts days. The marriage between Astoria and me is nothing more than the means to produce a Malfoy heir and get our parents off our backs.”
He had really missed that dumbstruck look on Potter’s face. It was delightful.
“So let me get this straight”, Potter said and Draco failed not to chuckle about his choice of words. “You’re gay?”
“Yes. Gay as Grindelwald.”
“Grindelwald was gay?”
“Potter, did you pay any attention in history of magic?”
“Of course not, Binns was our worst teacher.”
“We had Umbridge, Lockhart and literal death eaters as teachers and you call Binns the worst?”
Potter shrugged and mumbled: “His class was boring.”
Draco laughed again. Who would have thought Potter could be funny?
They leaned next to each other in comfortable silence. Well, as much silence as there could be in a strip club. Suddenly, the loud music bothered Draco. He looked at Potter, who seemed more relaxed than before. Less disoriented and drunk.
“This will sound very weird, but if you would like to continue having a conversation, would you be opposed to moving it somewhere else?”
“Are you asking me out, Malfoy?”
“If I was, you’d know. Trust me”, Draco deadpanned.
“It is pretty loud in here. Have anything in mind?”
Draco nodded and, on instinct, took Potter’s hand. Potter, to Draco’s surprise, didn’t pull it away. And so Draco walked through a gay strip club in London. Hand in hand with Harry Potter. Would the wonders ever cease?
When they reached their destination, Draco reluctantly let go of Potter’s hand. He felt the warmth linger.
They were at the shore of the Thames, a spot where one could see the lights of Muggle London. Most importantly, there was a bench that Draco had enchanted to be warm. Now in September, as the evenings were starting to grow cold again, this was a nice feature. He made a sweeping gesture. “Welcome to the viewpoint of undisturbed conversation.”
Now it was Potter’s turn to raise an eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he sat down on the bench. “Why is it warm?”, he asked.
“We are wizards, you know.”
Potter rolled his eyes. Draco had to stop thinking every single thing he did was endearing. But it was hard.
They sat down and Draco wrecked his brain about what to say. There were a thousand things he could say, but at least half of them would ruin the evening. Fortunately, Potter saved him.
“How… how did you know? That you’re gay I mean.”
Draco shrugged. “I’ve never been interested in girls and that didn’t change as I grew older. I was, however, interested in guys.”
Potter seemed to contemplate something. The tiniest part of Draco was afraid Potter would add up two and two, but then again, logic had never been Potter’s strong suit. Still, he had to be careful with what he said. His long-lasting crush was a secret he would take to his grave. Well. It wasn’t really a secret. Pretty much the whole house of Slytherin knew. And his parents at least suspected something. But still. It was important that Potter didn’t know. Never found out.
“So you never had a crush on any girl?”
“No.”
“What about Pansy?”
“Lesbian.”
“What?”
“Yes. And she showed more courage than me. She actually went against her parent’s wishes and married not only a woman but also a muggle. Her wife truly is lovely.”
“You know, Ginny accused me of being ‘heteronormative’ and I’m starting to see what she means.”
Draco shrugged. “Most people are. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“That’s what she said”, Potter said and then chuckled. “That’s what she said”, he mumbled once more and Draco didn’t know if he was skirting over into hysterical territory.
Potter seemed to read his mind because he said: “Don’t worry, it’s a muggle joke.”
Draco nodded. Silence stretched out again, real silence this time. It surprised Draco how not terrible this was. It actually felt kind of natural. Sitting with Potter on the shore of the Thames. Looking over London. Talking about sexuality.
“What lead your ex-wife to think you might not be as straight as you thought?”, Draco asked after a while.
Potter shrugged. “She’s pretty sure I had a crush on Bill. Her oldest brother.”
“And? Did you?”
Again, a shrug. “I mean, he's very handsome. And I know I always felt a little flustered around him back then. But it didn’t feel like it did with Ginny. Or Cho for that matter.”
“Well”, Draco said. “My bisexual friend told me that for her, there was a difference between crushes on girls and crushes on guys. She wasn’t making a lot of sense, because she was drunk off her ass, but still. Maybe that’s a bi thing?”
Potter put his thinking face on and Draco really wanted to take his hand again. Or stroke his arm. Or kiss him. Mostly he wanted to kiss him.
“You could be right.”
“Can you imagine what your fourteen-year-old self would think if someone told him I of all people helped you figure out your sexuality?”, Draco joked.
Potter actually laughed. “He would definitely not think it would go like this. Most probably he’d think we had an angry make-out session and that made me realise I didn’t only like girls but guys too.”
Angry make-out session . Harry Potter had just voiced one of Draco’s schoolday fantasies. It wasn’t confined to his schooldays. He had often imagined how, during one of their many fights, he’d just push Potter against the wall and make out with him. Sometimes it was Potter doing the pushing.
Draco realised he was sitting there, staring at Potter in shock. He quickly closed his mouth and cleared his throat. Great. Not at all suspicious.
“Well”, he said. And nothing else. His mind was blank. All he could think about was Harry Potter saying “angry make-out session”. Harry Potter had just said Draco could have been his gay awakening. With an angry make-out session. Harry Potter. Angry make-out session.
“What would your fourteen-year-old self say? If you told him you helped me figure out my sexuality?”, Potter asked as if Draco wasn’t just making a complete fool of himself.
Draco’s mouth went dry and he felt himself blush. It had been ages since he’d last blushed. He couldn’t even remember the last time his face heated up uncomfortably.
“I assure you, my fourteen-year-old self wouldn’t be inclined to believe me. But if he did, he would come to similar conclusions as you.”
Fourteen. They had been in year four. The Triwizard tournament. “Potter stinks” buttons. He had been turned into a ferret by Barty Crouch Jr.
“I’m sorry”, Draco said, because this seemed as good a time as any and he had to say it. “I know sorry doesn’t quite cut it. I was not a good kid. And I am sorry I made your life at Hogwarts harder than it had to be.”
“You weren’t the only thing making my time at school hard”, Potter said.
Draco rolled his eyes. “I know. On the grand scale, I was probably nothing more than a small hindrance or annoyance, at least the first few years.”
“No, you actually were pretty high on my list of enemies. Second just after Voldemort.”
Draco flinched when he heard that name, but waved off Potter’s concerned look.
“But”, Potter carried on with a careful look at Draco. “You were something I could deal with. Yes, you made my life harder, but I had Hermione and Ron and all the Weasleys, the other Gryffindors. Often the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs too. And with time, most of what you did just seems petty.”
Draco huffed. “That’s one way to put it.”
He couldn’t help but feel that he was being let off easy. It had been his mission back then to make Potter’s life at Hogwarts as miserable as possible after he had refused to shake Draco’s hand in front of the whole year.
“Did you know we suspected that you were the heir of Slytherin in year two?”, Harry asked.
“What?”, Draco laughed.
“Yes. I was sure you were the one controlling the basilisk. We even infiltrated the common room and interrogated you. Used polyjuice potion.”
“In year two?”
Draco was impressed. Even he wouldn’t have dared to touch that potion when he was 12, least of all brew it.
“Yes. Hermione made it, of course. Ironically, she got the short end of the stick. She got a hair from Pansy’s cat, not Pansy herself.”
“Wait”, Draco said. “Was that the week Granger was mysteriously ill and everyone was speculating she'd been turned to stone as well, but no one said anything?”
Potter nodded.
“One day, Potter, you will have to tell me what else you suspected me off.”
He shrugged. “Pretty much everything. Except in year six. I had a rough year and you were the least of my problems.”
Draco nodded. He could sympathise. Not fully, their situations had been quite different. But a little. It hadn’t been his best year. It also hadn’t been the worst year. Year seven had been worse. Absentmindedly, Draco stroked over his left wrist.
“I think it's time for you to call me Harry”, Potter said.
Draco looked at him. He had a small smile, a look that told Draco this was an apology for reopening old wounds. Potter- Harry. Harry wasn’t the one who should be apologising.
Nevertheless, Draco smiled. “Well, then you should call me Draco.”
He stretched out his hand and this time, Harry shook it.