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TWELVE HOURS
“What?!” Harry asks in mock-surprise.
“Yes! I saw her doing it!”
“Did you?” Harry looks at the six-year-old’s shiny eyes and raises an eyebrow playfully.
“She didn’t even look at the card, just took the frog and threw away the rest!”
Harry and Teddy are taking a less-than-leisurely stroll through Diagon Alley. Teddy is on a mission.
He has shoulder-length brown hair today, which is usually his default. Harry had always assumed it was his way to match Andromeda’s hair colour.
“Spying, were we?” Harry says, as they turned the corner. Teddy made the wise choice of staying silent.
Fortescue’s was finally within view. Harry watches Teddy. He loves seeing his eyes light up at the sight of his favourite ice cream place. Harry is not disappointed- Teddy starts jittering excitedly and lets go of Harry’s hand to run into the store. His godson’s excitement about sugary treats has never failed to amuse Harry.
Ten minutes of serious deliberation later, Harry orders for them both and allows Teddy to sit at the table outside of the parlour so he could start eating his caramel-chocolate and hazelnut-raspberry scoops without delay. Harry is happy to see some treacle tart ice cream and waits patiently as the teenage employee scoops some up into a cone for him.
“Two Galleons and fifteen Knuts, please.”
Harry reaches into his jeans pocket, surprised to find it empty. He checks his other pockets. Nothing. Oh no. Not again. He always forgets to leave the house with money, no matter how much he tries to remind himself.
“Hey, I’m really sorry. I’ve forgotten my money at home, can I pay you back at the end of the day?” Harry asks apologetically, feeling immensely uncomfortable.
The teenager looks at him suspiciously before focusing on his face. His eyes widen for a second, and suddenly Harry knows what is coming. And he’ll hate it. Especially with so many people around.
“Of course, Mr. Potter, sir! That’s okay.”
“Thanks, I’ll be back! I’m sorry!” He calls as he hurries out the door, wanting to get outside so he doesn’t leave Teddy outside by himself for too long. After his day out with Teddy, he’ll come back here and pay. And make sure this never happens again.
Harry steps into the sunlight and sees Teddy sitting outside on a nearby table with... Draco?
Harry is rooted to the spot, watching the pair of them. He can hear Teddy talking animatedly about Andromeda and her chocolate eating habits. Draco has a small smile on his face but looks slightly uncomfortable.
Harry and Draco have been seeing each other often in the past year or so, but he has not usually seen him outside the context of Andromeda’s home. Harry felt very weird about it at first, a sentiment echoed by the Weasleys that came to visit occasionally, but he had gotten used to Draco being around once far quicker than he expected. As time went on, they began awkwardly speaking to each other. They hadn’t considered each other to be enemies for a long time; they were adults after all, but it was awkward, nonetheless. Harry was glad Andromeda had managed to persuade Draco that she wanted him in her life, that she wanted to get to know him better despite the events that transpired during the war that ended over six years ago. They were family after all, Andromeda had said.
A few months ago Andromeda had insisted that they start calling each other by their first names. She had said they sounded like schoolboys and Harry secretly agreed. Recently, Harry began feeling things...
Draco finally looks around him and eyes Harry, cheeks flushing. Harry quickly regains his composure and walks up to the table to put a hand on Teddy’s shoulder.
“Draco was just walking by on the street!” Teddy exclaims excitedly. “I haven’t seen him in so long!!” he adds, his mouth full of ice cream that was beginning to dribble onto his chin.
“Yeah, I see that… Hi, Draco.” He smiles, feeling heat rising up in his cheeks again.
“Hello, Harry.” Draco raises an eyebrow, looking at Harry in amusement.
He is wearing a set of burgundy robes, looking stylish and elegant – something Harry had never been able to master. His hair is long enough to slightly fall into his eyes. It looks so soft.
Harry had already found Draco to be extremely attractive, but seeing him in direct sunlight makes every beautiful feature about him even more pronounced. His impeccable posture makes him look confident despite the colour in his cheeks that betrayed his embarrassment, and oh how Harry relishes in it. Something about Draco blushing gives Harry just a little too much joy.
“I like it better when you don’t say Potter and… Malfee.” Teddy says. He looks between them with big eyes, before returning to his task of eating his ice cream with renewed fervor.
Harry holds back a laugh. “Malfoy, yes,” he corrects. “Yeah, me too.”
He tries his best to look down at Teddy without dripping any of his own ice cream, which was melting faster than he anticipated. He licks the side of his cone when the sound of a chair scraping makes him look up and see Draco’s slender figure rising from his chair.
“Sorry, Teddy, but I should be on my way.”
“Can you stay for ice cream with me and Harry?! I missed you.”
Draco glances at Harry, unsure and a little bit frightened. Harry nods behind the little boy’s head and smiles.
“Well, I do have some time, actually,” Draco retracts, jumping slightly at Teddy’s sudden cry of delight. “I can go buy my potion ingredients later on."
“Sounds boring anyways!” Teddy laughs.
Draco raises an eyebrow, a smile playing on his face. “Can’t argue with that.”
****
Harry didn’t know what he expected from his Saturday afternoon, but it certainly wasn’t this.
Draco ends up staying for much longer than just ice cream, which he also went back and paid for.
Harry told Andromeda he’d take Teddy back-to-school shopping in Hogsmeade today, and Draco came along at Teddy’s insistence. He gives his opinion on the different quills and schoolbags when Teddy asks (which is often), and Teddy’s overflowing warmth and excitement towards Draco makes Harry and Draco feel more comfortable around each other too. He couldn’t help but be surprised at Draco’s patience with Teddy. It charmed him, as pathetic as that might sound. He is more than happy to be an observer on this shopping trip, seeing as Teddy was clearly excited to have Draco around. And anyways, Harry wasn’t able to concentrate very well. He was mostly too busy staring.
His daydreams of Draco as a dad have to be paused when Teddy needs advice or wants to ask him a question.
“Right, Harry?” Teddy asks, skipping over to Harry.
“What, sorry?”
Draco smiles and shakes his head at him. “He was saying that he doesn’t care what Hogwarts House he’ll be in when he’s older.”
“And it doesn’t even matter what House I’m in, right, Harry? They’re all good?”
Harry holds his hand out for Teddy to take. “Of course, Teddy. They’re all good Houses, and it doesn’t make a difference to me which one you’ll be in. The hat will put you in the House that suits you best. I can’t be against that, can I, Teddy bear?”
A few hours later, the three of them step out of Borgin and Burke’s, their last stop for the day. Harry loses focus once more, looking at Draco and Teddy holding hands and talking animatedly with each other about something or other a little further along the street.
“Harry?”
“…hmm?”
“Shall we…get going? Didn’t you say we had to bring him back in time for dinner?” Draco says, raising that damn eyebrow at him, embarrassing him for having drifted off into daydreams about his stupid, dreamy self. Harry’s a mess.
Teddy puts a hand over his mouth to unsuccessfully stifle laughter, looking up at Draco. Harry blushes spectacularly; he’s sure he is.
When the three of them had reached an agreement that they purchased everything Teddy needed, they floo’d back to Andromeda’s from the Leaky Cauldron. Draco came along, no questions asked.
Andromeda does not look surprised to see Draco accompanying Harry.
“Nice to see you two! Come in and have some tea. Draco, I haven’t seen you in weeks!”
“Thank you, Andromeda.” Harry can tell he still isn’t entirely comfortable calling her by her first name. “Yes, I had so much to do for my potion trial. Are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding?”
“Of course not! Don’t be silly. Come, come. Sit down, both of you.” She ushers them into the cozy living room where they sit on opposite sofas.
Harry always felt so welcome in Andromeda and Teddy’s home. And he could not imagine his life without the presence of an excitable, talkative Teddy.
As they all sat down with their mugs of tea, Andromeda asks, “Draco, dear, how is your research going?”
Draco straightens up slightly. “Quite well, actually. You remember I told you about that anti-anxiety potion I was working on?” he inquires. At Andromeda’s nod, he continues: “Well, I managed to isolate a chemical I wanted from a muggle SSRI, an antidepressant.”
“Oh.” Andromeda looks surprised.
“Yes, the muggle drug was quite helpful. The anxiety potions currently being given in magical hospitals do not do a good job because they sedate more than anything else.” Draco looks over at him again with a searching gaze, probably knowing Harry would understand. “They’re not very useful in small doses, and even then, it has a sedation effect that is undesirable for long-term treatment, to put it lightly.”
“Yeah,” Harry exclaimed. “A while back I had to administer this potion to a child who was having tantrums so strong that she was a danger to her family. Things were thrown around the room and such. But giving her that potion was the most horrible part of it all. It was like taking her fear away, but also her ability to talk to us properly. So it was nearly impossible to get to the root of her problem. Anyway, it was terrible.” Harry hated remembering this; it always made him feel so guilty.
“Yes, exactly.” He looks over at Harry, his brow furrowed. “Now I have to figure out how to incorporate it into my potion. The aim is to make a potion that can eliminate the overwhelming fear without making the patient sleepy and unfocused as it does with muggle drugs or sedated like the potions we use now. So it’s a bit of…” Draco looks over at Andromeda for a moment before returning his glance to Harry. “…taking the best elements of both worlds and making something new with more benefits and little to no drawbacks.”
Harry gives him a small smile and Draco returns it, flushing ever so slightly. God, he’s beautiful, Harry thinks. He can’t help but be charmed by the way Draco’s eyebrows raise when he explains something he cares about, his careful optimism, his determination to improve his potions. It makes his heart grow a little bit bigger in his chest. It hurts, just a little.
Harry sees Andromeda looking between the two of them with an amused expression. She can probably see Harry’s feelings all over his face. He just hopes Draco doesn’t.
“What about that Ministry representative you told me about?” Andromeda asks.
Draco sighs. “Convincing the Ministry is not going as well as I had hoped. The ministry is so narrow-minded, telling me I shouldn’t even be looking at any kind of muggle chemistry. Rather ignorant, really. But I must continue, regardless of what happens with the Ministry. They will eventually accept my work, if I can provide enough evidence that the potion is perfectly safe and a significant improvement to any current alternatives.”
“Good luck, dear. I believe you’ll do well, as I always do,” Andromeda supplies kindly, reaching over to gently pat Draco’s hand. He gives her a small, shy smile in return. “And you, Harry? How’s work been treating you?”
“A five-year-old patient is nearly done with her treatment for a rare blood condition, and it looks like she’s going to make a full recovery. It has been exhausting for everyone involved, though,” he chuckles.
Draco and Andromeda give him understanding smiles and Harry can suddenly see the striking familial resemblance in their faces.
“GRANDMAAAA!!!!” Teddy yells while running into the sitting room, looking frantic.
“Yes, Teddy?” Andromeda says evenly. She’s used to Teddy’s dramatics. Harry catches Draco’s startled expression at the commotion as it changes into an amused and fond look he gives the panting little boy. Harry couldn’t determine which of them was cuter.
“WHAT HAPPEN– “Andromeda fixes Teddy with a stern look. “Sorry!” he whispers. “What happens if I break my quill in the middle of class? Do I bring another one? What if my socks get wet? Will I have enough room in my bag to bring more? I-“
Andromeda looks at him seriously and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Teddy, sweetheart. It’s going to be alright, let’s go look over the things Harry bought you for school, alright?” She gets up and follows a nervous Teddy into the hallway to his bedroom. She glances back at her guests and gives them an apologetic smile. Harry smiles back and looks after them fondly.
Draco clears his throat theatrically from the opposite side of the room and Harry glances back at him, amused.
“Yes?” he asks, finally his turn to raise an eyebrow. Draco is not the only one with eyebrow-raising privileges, after all.
“The things you bought Teddy, was it?” Draco drawls.
Harry freezes, instantly embarrassed. As much as he hated dealing with money, he feels even worse at the prospect of owing people money. But Draco smiles widely at him and Harry knows he isn’t angry. A flash of playful challenge flashes in Draco’s eyes. Oh no.
“It seems we must level the playing field.” Draco smirks. “I think you owe me a drink, Potter.”
****
Harry looks over his closet for the fifth time. They had agreed to meet at eight o’clock at a bar Draco picked out and Harry had never heard of before. He has a whole hour to take a shower and decide what to wear, yet he can do nothing but stare at his closet and ponder over the fact that he probably does not own a single item of clothing that would look cool enough to compete with even Draco’s pyjamas.
Oh, no. Now Harry was imagining Draco in his pyjamas.
“Ughhhh,” Harry murmurs into his hands, heat flushing his face.
The bar Draco chose was a muggle one. It was loud and happy, with historical memorabilia lining the walls. Harry was too nervous in the first couple of minutes of being there to notice that it was a 1920’s-themed bar, and that Draco Malfoy was a goddamn nerd.
Draco, of course, arrives a few minutes late looking absolutely gorgeous. He is wearing black tight-fitting jeans and a simple white t-shirt underneath a lightweight black jacket which he rolled up to his elbows, showing off his strong pale arms. He wears a long silver necklace that Harry had never seen before. Oh god. Draco is wearing a necklace. How he wants to touch it.
Harry is sure he looked a mess-- his red button-up shirt and brown jeans must look ridiculous to Draco. His hair is still damp from the shower, since he had forgotten to dry it in his haste to leave the house. Slightly self-conscious, he follows Draco to a pretty outdoor patio bar seat in the garden where it was a bit quieter. Harry couldn’t help but feel that Draco was amused at something.
It is three drinks and a shot later when Harry decides it would be an absolutely fantastic moment to ask Draco something he had wanted to know for a while now. He wants to know everything about Draco, really. But this would do for now.
“What made you interested in making potions for a living? I mean, I know you’ve always been good at it and all…”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because I want to know. Because I care about your life.” He blushes profusely. He can’t believe he just said that. Fuck.
“Oh,” Draco almost whispers, and Harry thinks he would not have been able to hear it at all if he hadn’t been staring at Draco’s mouth.
Draco’s eyes flicker down to Harry's lips and it’s clear to Harry that Draco knew he was watching his in turn.
“Well... at first I thought it would be the only thing I could be halfway decent at. And it turned out that when I actually went to study it at the academy, it started being intriguing to me not just as a science but also as an art. I didn’t know there were so many…. possibilities out there. I realised I never thought about how much goes into it, or how many areas you can use them for-- anything from gardening to medicine.”
“Huh.” Harry contemplates this and realizes, as he does often these days, that he never really thought about it that way.
“I started taking a medicinal course, the hardest one I had ever taken. The professor was teaching us about psychoactive potions and mental health and suddenly I kind of…understood. Some things about myself, I mean.”
“Like what?”
“Sorry?” Draco exclaims, his brow furrowed. He was now leaning closer towards Harry and putting a hand on his arm across the small bar table between them. Oh god. He was so close. Harry wanted to speak quietly so that Draco might have to do that again.
“Like what?” Harry repeats close to his ear, suddenly serious.
“Oh, well… mostly things I was feeling after the war and was still feeling when I was going to the academy. I had difficulties breathing sometimes, and more rarely– flashbacks that came back so strongly I couldn’t do anything for days.” Draco looks down at his hands and shakes his head shortly. “That professor, she… completely changed my view on those things.”
Draco releases a breath and eyes the ceiling, looking as if a physical weight has been lifted from his shoulders.
“Wow, that’s amazing. Did it help you get better?”
Draco looks at Harry with a relieved expression. “Yes, actually. It made me want to know more about myself, if anything. There was a lot of shit under my gorgeous outer shell, just so you know.”
Harry laughs. Giggles, really. Because he is utterly ridiculous, as he’s come to find out.
“But it seems like you’ve really come into your own, Malfoy.” Harry smiles in a way he hopes is soft. “I hope you don’t get flashbacks anymore– I know what those are like. Absolute fucking hell.”
Draco nods sympathetically.
“You’re pretty great, Malfoy. All things considered.”
Draco maintains eye contact but doesn’t laugh.
“Thank you for listening to me all evening. All of this…I don’t really talk about it with anyone anymore. People usually just get silent and change the subject. And then I feel like I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Harry suddenly feels thankful for the long process he had gone through after the war that made it possible for him to have conversations like this at all. And with Draco Malfoy, his renowned former enemy, no less.
“I thought this evening was just beginning, Malfoy.”
*****
“Did you really believe what you told Teddy about the Hogwarts houses?”
They were now a few shots more drunk. Harry honestly can’t remember how many. They’ve been talking for hours.
“What, that I don’t mind where he gets sorted? ‘Course I don’t mind.”
“No. I mean, when you said the hat will put him in the House he needs to be in.”
“I mean...I guess...don’t you think so?”
Draco looks at him, slightly bewildered. “You’ve really never given this any thought?”
“No,” Harry replies quietly, opting to maintain eye contact despite how uncomfortable he now was. “But you’re making me feel as if I ought to have.”
Draco is the one to look away first, shaky fingers brushing through messy blonde hair.
“I was put in Slytherin because I…because my whole family has always been in Slytherin. It’s what was expected of me, it’s what I expected of myself…and it is just what happened. Had I been sorted into another house; my parents would have thought there was something wrong with me.”
One of Draco’s hands starts to twitch, and he glances down at it, annoyed. He closes the offending hand into a tight fist before letting go again.
“They might have even tried to force Dumbledore to change the hat’s decision. I was…taught how to emulate the traits that come with being sorted in Slytherin. It was imperative that I did. I didn’t have a choice. I think the hat knew that.”
“That… makes sense.” Harry hurts for him, and feels helplessly speechless. He really hasn’t given the sorting process more than a passing thought. He opts for honesty. “It’s…I’m really sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”
Draco looks at Harry for a short second and nods. “That’s alright. It’s a lot. We don’t have to talk about it now.”
“Draco, I...”
“Don’t worry about it,” Draco murmurs, eyeing the empty glass in front of him. “What is it with all this deep talk tonight?” He looks back up and smirks at Harry, eyes twinkling.
It seems like the bastard is not nearly as drunk as he should be after the drinks they’ve had. Fucking hot arsehole. He feels like a right knob next to him.
“Does there ever come a point in... which you aren’t so fucking….elegant?” He puts his face in his hands.
“Elegant, Potter?”
“Yes. I’m all drunk and you’re all….Malfoy-ish–“
Draco laughs. It’s a magnificent sound. And it makes Harry lift his head again.
“Really, Potter, I am adequately tipsy, I assure you.”
Harry snorts. “Yeah, ‘course you are.”
Draco eyes the full shot-glass sitting in front of him, giving Harry a mischievous look that is so hot that Harry thinks he might pass out. Draco Malfoy makes everything look sexy, the absolute bastard.
As if hearing his thoughts, Draco dips a finger into his shot-glass and sucks his finger while maintaining eye contact with Harry. Fuck. This man was too much.
“I must check what kind of ghastly shot you ordered for us before I ingest it.”
“You’re all talk, Malfoy.”
Harry suspects that Draco and him had kept inadvertently challenging each other with how much they could drink. Harry is finding out quite quickly that he cannot hold his liquor nearly as good as Draco can.
Draco raises an eyebrow as he downs the shot.
It’s well after two in the morning when they attempt to shuffle their way out of the bar. Draco walks into someone’s chair on their way out and has to lean on Harry for balance. Being quite tipsy himself, Harry struggled to hold onto him and shot an arm out to Draco’s waist to keep him upright, feeling a strip of bare skin where his t-shirt had ridden up. Draco regained his bearings after a few moments- too quickly for Harry's liking.
“Sorry,” Draco mumbles, but giggles at Harry as he sways while exiting the bar a few steps in front of him. Maybe he was wrong about Draco’s liquor-holding skills.
They walk out onto the quiet street, the air abuzz with crickets and muffled music.
“No worries, Malfoy.”
Draco stops in his tracks and whips around violently. “We’ve been calling each other Potter and Malfee all evening, haven’t we?”
Harry laughs loudly. “Yes, I guess we have been…”
“Why’s that, Potter?”
“Old habits, I guess?” Harry smiles.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Draco drawls, something new surfacing beneath the surface of his tone.
“No?”
“No,” Draco declares, taking a few steps in Harry's direction. Harry steps back instinctively and realises his back is already against the bar’s brick wall. His head darts to the side instinctively, and when he turns his head back, Draco’s face is even closer.
Harry takes a slow, deep breath and tries to steady himself despite feeling as if his whole world is shaking. He can’t believe this is happening
“Harry Potter?” Draco whispers. So close.
“Yes?”
“I want to kiss you right now. So badly …”
Harry swallows, hardly believing his ears.
“Would you like that?”
Harry feels like collapsing. Draco’s is waiting for a reaction with darkening eyes. Darkening for him. Oh, fuck.
Oh fuck, yes.
Yes, yes, yes, yes.
Harry can’t tear his eyes from Draco’s lips. He nods ever so slightly.
Draco lets out a breath as if he’s been holding it. Puts both hands on either side of Harry’s head against the wall and inches closer so slowly that Harry thinks he might’ve gone cross-eyed.
Draco brings their lips together achingly slowly.
And Harry feels like he has left his body entirely. Draco’s lips are soft as they part open.
He’s lost.
He feels Draco’s tongue wanting to enter his slightly parted lips, and he grants Draco entrance with enthusiasm. Draco moans softly, and the sound, however welcome, brings Harry painfully to his senses. He puts his hands on Draco’s cheeks, pushing him away gently.
“What is it? Did I do something wrong?” Draco steps back and removes his arms from Harry's waist, looking concerned.
“Are you kissing me because you’re– because we’re drunk?”
Draco fixes him with a steady, sobering gaze, and it’s the most serious he’s seen him all evening. He shakes his head resolutely.
“Okay,” Harry whispers, his fear subsiding. He smiles shyly at Draco, his breath catching as Draco comes closer again in one swift movement.
After a few moments Harry feels his thoughts running. Anxiety bubbles up again so he takes Draco’s face into his hands once more.
“I–and are you…are you kissing me because of what you said earlier? Because I listen to you? Because I can’t–”
Draco looks in his eyes as if searching for something and takes a deep breath. “It only made me want to kiss you more than usual,” he manages, looking at the ground. Harry’s heart begins racing again. This was probably more than he had intended to admit. It was too dark for Harry to see if Draco was blushing, although he didn’t need proof to know that he was.
“Really?” Harry whispers and tilts Draco’s face up to him gently.
“Really, Potter,” Draco says in a hushed drawl, his tone not nearly as menacing as he might think it was.
Laughing with relief and pure delight, Harry rakes his hands back through Draco’s silky hair until they reach the nape of his neck, where the feathery touches of his fingertips on tiny hairs makes them rise. He takes these seconds to observe Draco’s face, which he had not been able to appreciate so closely until now. Draco looks at him, barely moving. Harry tears his eyes away from his to appreciate Draco’s sharp jawline, parted pink lips, expressive eyebrows, upturned nose and eyes that sparkled in the darkness. His expression was so open and unguarded, and Harry wanted to cry. But this was not the time for that.
Harry pulls Draco towards him by the nape of his neck in one swift movement, pressing Draco’s mouth onto his, relishing in the way their tongues seem to know what to do on their own. Harry feels his pulse racing even when something deep inside him settles becomes calm. Draco wants him too.
The soft lips pressing against his are the only thing he can feel. Kissing is the only thing he can do. He never wants to stop. Any thoughts remaining in his head turn to mush with every soft moan, every time their tongues intertwine, every time Draco rakes his fingers into Harry’s much-too-long hair.
He has no idea how long they’ve been at it.
Suddenly, Draco pulls on his hair accidentally as his fingers graze his scalp, and he softly mumbles “Sorry, Potter” against Harry’s lips before continuing the kiss with a growing hunger. For the life of him, Harry can’t understand why that makes him want Draco even more than he thought was humanly possible.
It’s so ridiculous that Harry has to laugh, breaking the kiss. Draco looks at him with the goofiest smile Harry had ever thought he would see on a Malfoy and with eyes that are drunk in more ways than one.
“I know, right?”