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Vernon Dursley is a creature of habit and he cannot function without a proper cup of tea.
Each morning, his first cup is taken whilst reading the newspaper and frowning at any article that seems out of the ordinary. His wife, Petunia, knows not to ask what’s wrong if he rips the newspaper in frustration, eyes twitching at the utter nonsense he has just read.
His secretary has his second cup ready as soon as he walks through the office door. As usual, he doesn’t greet her, but rather grabs the cup and sits down at his desk, turning the computer on to start another dull day at Grunnings.
By the time he has finished his third cup, Vernon has already yelled on the phone for at least an hour and it’s time for his first break. He’s in a very good mood after securing a deal, so he walks down to the nearest coffee shop, which used to be a bakery, for his regular cup and a bun.
The whole affair should not take any more than fifteen minutes. Today, however, the queue is held up by a blond man who is taking far too long to choose a cup of coffee.
“Come on!” Vernon mutters under his breath, but the blond man is still asking the barista many questions about the different types of coffee beans. The barista smiles at the blond man, talking in low tones, and glancing at him from under her eyelashes as a red blush appears on her cheeks.
After the third giggle that escapes from her mouth, Vernon's had enough. “For Christ’s sake, stop flirting! Can’t you see there's a long queue?” he shouts at the barista. “Open another register!”
The blond man slowly turns around and he's nothing like Vernon has ever seen before. Vernon understands why the barista was flirting with this man, someone who is handsome enough to charm all the people around him. The blond man’s pale eyebrow is arched into a precise point judging him, his pale pink lips are smirking at him, and his grey eyes are wide in amusement. His dark blue suit screams money, and power, and high society. Vernon won’t admit it, but he feels inadequate standing next to this man.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the blond man says mockingly, “I am unaware that three people behind me constitutes as a long queue. By all means, as I am still undecided, I will allow the two women behind you to place their order because they are not rude. Perhaps by the time they are done, I will have decided what I want, and you can order after me. If you don’t want that to happen, then you can wait.” He turns around before Vernon can say anything, but the two women behind Vernon start laughing.
Vernon stands there fuming. How dare he imply that he, Vernon, is rude? The nerve of the man to suggest that he would purposely make him wait! By the time he is working himself up to a proper response, the blond man is ready to place his order.
“I’ve changed my mind about the coffee. Instead, I’ll have a cup of Darjeeling, please. Add an éclair as well,” the man says. The barista rings up his order and asks for a name.
“Draco,” he says and spells it out for her before moving away from the counter.
Draco, Vernon thinks, with a scowl on his face. I should have known that he would have a stupid name. What were his parents thinking? Too rich for their own good!
The barista’s smile dims as Vernon approaches the counter, but she still asks politely, “What will it be for you today, sir?”
“The usual,” he barks, as if they don’t already know his order, “And make it quick! Some of us have to return to our real jobs!” He slides his card in the machine, signing the screen aggressively. When he turns around to wait for his order, he sees Draco staring at him with a calculated look.
Immediately, he freezes. Vernon swears that in that moment, those grey eyes are seeing right through him, reading his mind and looking at all the thoughts he’s ever had.
Vernon can’t look away; deep down he knows that something terrible will happen if he breaks eye contact. However, instead of seeing Draco’s grey eyes, images flash in Vernon’s head, but nothing he can actually focus on. His heart beats faster, and little beads of sweat begin to dot his forehead, which Vernon wipes away with a shaky hand. A full minute into the staring contest and he’s gasping, taking huge gulps of breath, but it doesn’t seem to be working because he can’t breathe, and the oxygen can’t get to his brain, and black dots are appearing in his vision…
Just as he’s about to faint, Vernon hears the barista call out “Tea for Vernon!” and Draco finally looks away. Vernon grabs his tea and avoids Draco’s gaze, too afraid that whatever just occurred will happen again. Vernon flees the shop as fast as he can.
Outside in the sunlight and fresh air, surrounded by people on the pavement, Vernon tries to rationalize the experience. It must be Draco, because Vernon had been feeling perfectly all right until they had locked eyes. Now that he thinks about it, the man is not handsome, but rather too pale and death-like. Long, skeletal fingers that are probably cold to the touch, and paper-thin skin that looks like it would fade into nothingness. Not to mention the fact that he seems able to read minds.
A soft cough shakes him out of his thoughts. And even though there are people walking all around him, Vernon knows it’s the bloke from the coffee shop.
Despite his better judgement, he turns around to find Draco walking behind him.
Vernon avoids the blond man’s gaze as a prickle of unease settles in his stomach. Is Draco following him? Is he some sort of deranged stalker? The last time Vernon had felt this way was about ten years ago when the boy had finally left Privet Drive for good. For an entire year, his family had been placed in protective custody and cut off from the entire world. Even after the Dursleys had been released, there had been several times that Vernon couldn’t shake off the thought that any single oddity was the result of those people returning to ruin his life once again.
Still, Vernon hasn’t heard from his nephew in a decade. Perhaps this was his way of checking up on him?
Vernon walks a little faster, bearing in mind that his doctor told him on his last visit that it’s not good for his heart to be so stressed. As soon as he sees the entrance to Grunnings, a sense of calm washes over him. He’s almost safe in his office. If Draco decides to follow him in, security can detain Draco at the door and, if Vernon’s lucky, arrest him.
Except that Draco strides past him and holds open the door.
“After you,” Draco says, waving him forward with an exaggerated flourish. Vernon absolutely does not acknowledge him, instead going straight to the lifts. Before the doors close, he sees Draco checking in at the front desk.
For the first time since seeing Draco, Vernon smiles. If Draco is here for an interview, then there's no way in hell that he will get hired. Vernon will absolutely make sure to let Human Resources know what an absolute creep the man is. He exhales and takes a sip of tea.
All thoughts of that unpleasant encounter are pushed from his mind as the lift goes up. His thoughts flutter from how it’s almost Petunia’s birthday and the holiday he is overdue to take. He’s planning a nice trip to Barcelona when the lift suddenly stops. He’s the only one inside, so he jabs at the button, frowning. Miraculously, the door opens and he steps outside.
“I’m sorry, Vernon,” Tim from Accounting says when Vernon exits the lift, “the lift has been giving us trouble all day. At least you didn’t have to climb all those stairs.”
As Vernon walks the last two flights of stairs, he thinks angrily about whom he will call and yell at to fix the bloody lift. Some of us have delicate heart conditions to think about. He slams his office door shut after instructing his secretary not to disturb him for the rest of the day.
“About time you arrived, Vernon,” a voice greets him.
Vernon chokes on air, spilling the remainder of his tea on his hands. He yells and curses loudly, waving his hands to try to cool them faster. “Who are you? How did you get in here?”
Draco is sitting behind his desk, holding a framed photo. He puts it down and raises an eyebrow. “Normally, I’d be polite and say you have a lovely family, but that would be a lie.”
Vernon twists the knob furiously, only to find that it will not turn. He starts pounding on the door, but hears Draco sigh behind him. When he turns around, Draco is staring lazily at him, a stick grasped in his hand.
“You can continue screaming, if you like, but it won’t to you any good. I’ve put up several spells so that no one can disturb us.”
“You can’t use magic!” Vernon says, remembering a hazy conversation he had with his nephew years ago. “You’ll get a letter from your Ministry. You’ll get arrested and go to Azakabam.”
“You think I’ll join my father in Azkaban?” Draco laughs. “For what crime? There are two main reasons you get an Improper Use of Magic letter. One is for underage magic. I’m clearly not underage, thank Merlin, and I haven’t done any improper magic.”
“You’ve read my mind!” Vernon says, twisting the doorknob again.
“What I found did not impress me,” Draco says. “Pity you’re not a Muggle who’s more like Granger.”
There was that word again. Muggle. “Who’s Granger? Is he joining you here too?”
“She is the brightest witch of our age and the future Minister for Magic. But she doesn’t know I’m here. It’s your back luck that no one knows I’m here.”
Draco swishes his stick and Vernon’s eyes follow it against his will. “So you really are a w-w-wizard?” he whispers. Even after all this time, he cannot bring himself to say the word.
“Yes, I’m a Hit-Wizard. My specialty is bringing in Dark wizards, especially the Death Eaters still on the loose. Do you remember Voldemort?”
If possible, Vernon’s face turns even whiter. “He’s alive?”
“No, he’s still dead,” Draco says. He flicks his stick to move the chair in front of Vernon’s desk back a few feet. “Have a seat, I’m not here to harm you. In fact, I’m here to ask you a simple question.”
Vernon reluctantly sits down. “What do you want? I’ve told your kind to leave us alone!”
“I’m not interested in you,” Draco says, rolling his eyes. “I’m here because of Harry.”
Vernon’s eyes bulge out. “Harry? You’re here for the boy?”
Draco’s grey eyes flash in anger. “He is not a boy. He’s one of the most powerful wizards in our world.”
“My family does not have any association with Harry Potter. He’s a freak. Our lives were almost ruined because of him!”
As soon as Vernon finishes speaking, Draco is standing right in front of him with his stick, his wand jabbed against the many jowls of Vernon’s chin.
“You’re alive, as am I, because of him. You owe him so much more, but lucky for you, he doesn’t feel necessary to collect any debts. I, on the other hand,” Draco pauses, “am not that noble.”
Vernon struggles to speak. “What do you want?”
“Family means everything to Harry and since you’re the only ones he has left, I thought it would be proper to ask you for his hand in marriage.”
“You want to marry him?”
“Of course. If he’ll have me.”
“I always knew he was a freak,” Vernon says, voice trembling with rage. “His magic made him unnatural and now this!”
Vernon knows he’s said the wrong thing when he feels the room become eerily quiet. He can’t hear himself breathe and the room’s temperature drops a few degrees. He shrinks back in fear as Draco lowers his wand and points it against Vernon’s heart.
“No, I’ve read your mind” Draco says, his voice cold. “The way you treated him, like he was no better than a servant, was unnatural. You never even tried to love him and instead made him feel like he was no one. All he wanted was the love and approval of his family. I thought my father was awful, but you are much worse.”
Draco taps his wand against Vernon’s heart, whispering a few words that causes a jet of purple light to sink into his skin. For a few tense seconds, Vernon waits for the pain to hit him, but nothing happens. Still, he doesn’t trust that the purple light is completely harmless.
“What did you do to me?” Vernon whispers.
“Just a spell that causes your heart to stop beating for a few seconds every time you even think about Harry. Considering the state of your heart, I think it’s a fair price to pay for all the things you’ve done to him.”
“That’s not legal! I’ll tell your Ministry!”
Draco smirks. “Well, you can try, but no one will believe you. Besides, where did you think I learned that spell? It’s untraceable; one of the perks of the job.”
“You won’t get away with this!”
Draco shrugs. “I don’t think it’s a wise choice for you. I know where you live. If you try to run, I'll find you. Remember the last time you tried to escape magic by traveling all over England so Harry couldn't get his Hogwarts letter? You never succeeded.”
With a flick of his wand, Draco sets the photo frame on Vernon’s desk on fire and disappears.
When Draco opens his eyes, he sees Harry at the hob stirring spices into the pot. The new Weird Sisters song is playing on the Wireless and Harry sways his hips and sings along, slightly off-key. Here is proof that there is no way in hell Harry can be related to a family such as the Dursleys.
Draco whistles as soon as the song is over. The wooden spoon clatters on the countertop as Harry rushes over and greets him with a kiss.
“Draco, you’re home! Ron said you were on assignment and I didn’t expect you to be home this early.”
Draco smiles, holding Harry against him, brushing away a smudge of spice of his cheeks. “I am. The assignment was far easier than I thought. How was your day?”
“Perfectly normal,” Harry says, smiling. “You were on assignment dressed like that? I didn’t know the Hit-Wizard uniform had changed.”
Draco hits him lightly on the shoulder. “You’re not funny, Harry. I look fabulous in Muggle clothing. Besides, it turned out to be quite boring. The good thing is that it’s over now.” Well, for Draco at least. He hadn’t been telling the truth when he had cast the spell on Vernon Dursley, but the fool didn’t need to know that. Vernon would have severe heartburn for the rest of his life, enough to question if he was having a heart attack, if he ever thought about Harry.
“I’m glad. I was a bit worried,” Harry says, and Draco frowns. “Don’t look at me like that. I know you can take care of yourself, but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry.”
“I’m glad that you do because I know it shows that you care,” Draco says, lifting Harry’s chin up. Harry’s green eyes stare at him with love that he’d never thought he’d find. While Harry may have been denied love while he was a child, Draco intends to make sure that Harry never forgets how many people love him now.
“I love you, Harry,” Draco says, kissing him deeply. They only pull away when the smell of burnt spices sets off an alarm.
“I think the dinner’s a lost cause. Let’s order takeaway,” Harry suggests, Scourifying the pot and putting the dishes to wash.
“Deal. You choose the dinner and I’ll try my best to pair it off with a nice bottle of wine.”
“Sounds perfect!”