Work Text:
Draco was nervous and he didn't like it. As he approached his destination, he slowed down long enough to look at himself in a shop window. He ran a critical eye over his body, searching for anything out of place that he could attend to if only to delay the inevitable a little longer. But his clothing and hair looked as immaculate as it had when he initially left the office, and so there was nothing for him to do but continue on. Which he did, even if it was with a degree of apprehension that most people would not have believed that Draco Malfoy would be capable of.
His stomach tightened as he paused out in front of the house and looked up at it. Like everyone else who had not been keyed to the wards nor personally invited inside, all he could see was a quaint, picturesque home with a well-tended garden. No matter who was outside or what they were doing, neither Draco nor any other enterprising journalist who just happened to be wandering by would be able to see them. That was high level spell work, but he could honestly expect nothing less from Harry Potter.
There was a faint shimmer - evidence of the wards being modified, Draco belatedly realized - and then the man himself appeared at the gate.
"Good morning, Malfoy," Potter said, smiling. "You're early."
"I am actually right on time," Draco said indignantly. He may or may not have done a couple of test runs from his office to Potter's house just so that he could be sure he would not, in fact, be early or late.
Potter's smile widened. "So you are. My mistake. Come in, won't you?" He stepped back and the gate magically detached itself, swinging open to allow Draco entry. As Draco obligingly moved forward, he felt the tingle of wards passing over his skin and mentally catalogued the ones he recognized: a ward against poison, a ward against curses, a ward against potions, and a ward to recognize ill-intent, among others. All of the wards allowed Draco to pass without issue.
Potter led the way into the house. It was the first time that Draco had seen the Potter household in person, though of course he had seen pictures over the years. It looked much the same as he remembered. The entry was bright and open and led directly to the sitting room, which was equally spacious, and he could see a glimpse of the kitchen through another hallway. Potter walked over to one of the chairs and sat, inviting Draco to sit as well with a wave of his hand. Draco quickly moved over to the nearest sofa and sat.
"Tea?" Potter asked. Without waiting for Draco to respond, he murmured something under his breath. A tray with tea and scones popped up on the coffee table.
"A house elf?" Draco said, surprised. "I'm surprised Granger is okay with that."
"I treat my house elves very well," Potter replied, though there was a hint of an edge to his voice that made Draco think that house elves were still a point of contention with Granger.
"Right. Thank you." That was all he opted to say as he accepted the cup of tea that Potter was holding out to him. Tempting though it was to pick at the cracks in the infamous Golden Trio, however minute those cracks may be, Draco refrained. He was here for the scoop of the year and he didn't want anything to ruin that.
Potter looked at him thoughtfully. "I have to admit I was surprised to hear you became a journalist."
"Really? You're surprised that I enjoy ferreting out secrets?" Draco said dryly. It was one of the comments he'd heard the most over the years, and so it no longer stung as much as it had at first. But Potter was nothing if not clever when it came to caustic comments, so Draco wanted to get in the pre-emptive strike.
"It just didn't seem like the sort of field you would enjoy," Potter said mildly. "But I'm glad I was wrong. You're a very good journalist. I read all of your articles."
"You do?" Draco said, startled. He set his tea down, untouched.
"Oh yes. You're one of the few journalists that I can stomach. You don't use overly flowery language, but you also don't go out of your way to try and shock or sicken your readers. I appreciate the fact that you can walk that thin line by reporting true facts, but being kind where it's necessary," Potter said, taking a calm sip of his tea like he hadn't just complimented Draco Malfoy.
It left Draco feeling wrong-footed. He and Potter hadn’t spoken much since they’d left school. Potter had vouched for him and his mother during the trial, but Draco had never known how to say thank you and so he’d never said anything at all. He had instead convinced himself that the best thing he could do for Harry Potter was keeping his distance and pretend like the two of them didn’t know each other at all.
“Right,” Draco said faintly, realizing that the silence had turned a little awkward. “That’s… okay. Well.” He bent down and scrabbled around in his bag until he found his book and his quill. Then he straightened up and opened his book to a fresh page, balancing it on his knee.
“You’re right, I suppose we should get down to business,” Potter said when Draco looked up.
Draco nodded. “Everyone in the wizarding world is very curious to hear why you and Mrs. Potter are breaking up.” He paused. “Or is that Ms. Weasley now?”
Potter shook his head. “No. Ginny is keeping the name Potter. It’s easier on everyone if she still has the same name as our children, and honestly… I like the thought of having as many Potters around as possible.” He smiled faintly.
“Okay.” Draco made a note of that in his book. He felt a little better now that they’d shifted to the interview. This was familiar territory. He might not have interviewed Potter before, but he’d interviewed hundreds of other people. Many of them had been considerably more famous than Potter since Potter had been doing his best to stay out of the limelight for the last several years, so this was more familiar territory.
“Before you ask anything else, I’d like to keep the kids out of this as much as possible,” Potter said.
“Of course,” Draco said. “So… care to tell me why you and Mrs. Potter have decided to end things?” He looked up at Potter expectantly, hoping that his racing heart wasn’t reflected in his expression. This was what literally everyone wanted to know.
The wizarding world as a whole had been rocked to the core when news that Harry and Ginny Potter were separating hit the stands. At first, a lot of people hadn’t believed it – Draco included. He’d thought for sure that it had to be fake. He might have kept his distance from Potter, but that hadn’t stopped him from learning everything he could from that distance.
Everyone had been trying to figure how and why, but up until now the Potters hadn’t said a word. Nor had either of them accepted any interview offers. They’d been depressingly tight-lipped about the whole affair. So it had shocked the hell out of Draco when, under pressure from his editor, he had reached out to Potter for an interview and Potter had accepted. His editor had cried literal tears of joy when she got the news, and she’d told Draco about six times not to come back until he found out the truth.
Potter just looked at him for a moment, and then he said, “I know what everyone is saying. I’ve heard all about the rumors. I’d like to state, for the record that Ginny never cheated on me, and I’ve never cheated on her.”
“Right,” Draco said, writing that down word for word. He’d sort of expected that was going to be the case, but it was still a relief to hear Potter confirm it.
“I say that because I know what it’s going to sound like when I tell you that Ginny fell in love with someone else,” Potter added.
Draco froze, quill just barely touching the parchment. “I’m sorry?”
“You heard me,” Potter said, still smiling. “Have you ever heard of aromanticism or asexuality?”
For a moment, Draco just sat there and blinked. He had heard of those words before, but somehow, he had never expected that Potter would have. He looked down at his book, and then he made a decision and closed it. Somehow, it seemed like this conversation was going to delve into more intimate territory than he could have imagined. His editor would’ve strangled him, but suddenly listening seemed to matter more.
“Yes, I have,” Draco said cautiously when he realized that Potter was waiting for an answer. “It’s people who don’t fall in love or have sex.”
“Close. You’re right about the former, not so much about the latter. I assure you asexual people can and do have sex.” Potter grinned. “We’re just not sexually attracted to people.”
“Oh… right.” Draco’s throat was very, very dry when he watched that smile on Harry Potter’s face. He reached out and picked up his cup, taking a sip of his tea. Then he made a startled sound.
“Did I get it right?” Potter asked, looking as concerned as though him having got it wrong would ruin the remainder of his day.
“My tea? Yes. How did you –” Draco licked his lips and looked down at his cup. He enjoyed his tea with a generous teaspoon of sugar, but only in the privacy of his own home. His father had made it clear from a young age that men drank their tea plain.
“I remembered from Hogwarts and guessed that you took it the same,” Potter said softly.
Draco didn’t know what to say to that. There was too much wrapped up in that one sentence to even begin to parse through. He just watched Potter with a shocked expression.
Potter merely smiled at him again and said, “Now, where were we? Oh yes. Asexuality isn’t so much about whether someone will have sex. Plenty of asexual people, myself included, have sex. It is, after all, a pleasurable activity.” His smile widened. “Before you ask, all of my children were conceived naturally and not through potions or charms.”
“I wasn’t going to ask,” Draco said, though the question had formed in the back of his mind.
“Right,” Potter said, a twinkle in his eyes. “Well, you know that Ginny and I dated for a while at Hogwarts. When the war was over, it took me a long time to figure myself out. It was really the first time I’d ever had the chance to think of myself as a person, not just a weapon.” His smile faded. “A lot of people were harassing me at the time. Everyone wanted a piece of the hero.”
“I remember,” Draco said quietly. He didn’t like talking about the days immediately following the war, when he and his parents had been imprisoned in Azkaban pending a trial. His father had died there; Potter’s influence had eventually set Draco and his mother free. Narcissa had immediately moved to France, and she remained there to this day.
“It was hard. I still hadn’t figured things out, but people wouldn’t leave me alone. So one night… Well, Ginny and I had a very long chat and the next morning we announced our engagement,” Potter said. “She loved me, and I loved her, and we decided that we could build a good life together.”
“I thought you said she fell in love with someone else,” Draco said, confused.
Potter nodded. “She did. I don’t fault her for that. I know she loves me, but she’s not in love with me anymore, and I think that’s a good thing because I can’t love her back the way she always wanted me to. I expect she’ll be very happy with Luna.”
“Lovegood?” Draco’s head shot up and he looked at Potter in shock.
Potter laughed at his reaction. “Ginny is bisexual. She always has been. Oh, but I’d appreciate if you left that out of your article. Neither of us want Luna’s name to be dragged through the mud.”
“Oh, right.” The article. Draco looked down at his closed book, realizing that he hadn’t written down most of what Potter had just said. This was exactly the kind of dirt that his editor had wanted him to find, but he wasn’t so sure that he felt comfortable writing it. Surely Potter wouldn’t want such private information out in the open for everyone to know about.
But then why would Potter have told him all of this otherwise?
“As for the children,” Potter went on, “we plan to split custody 50/50. They’ll stay with me for now until Ginny and Luna find their own place, but then we’ll figure out what works for us. It’s all going to be very amicable. Ginny’s going to keep her access to the Potter family vaults, and I’ll still be invited to Sunday dinner at the Weasley’s.”
“That sounds… fair,” Draco said slowly. It honestly didn’t, but he knew that Potter didn’t value galleons the way that most people did. To Potter, a family was valued far more highly than anything else.
“Sorry. I’m sure you were hoping for a more interesting story,” Potter said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “An amicable split isn’t what your readers will want.” Yet he was watching Draco with an expectant look.
Again, Draco looked down at the closed book. The few notes he’d written certainly didn’t form the basis of the kind of article his editor wanted. People wanted rumors. They wanted mystery. They want intrigue. They didn’t want the calm sort of conversations that Potter and his soon-to-be-ex-wife would’ve been having. An article like that would only stir the waters more and make the general public even more convinced that there was something nefarious going on behind the scenes.
“I’ll come up with something and run it by you before I turn it in,” Draco said at last. He wasn’t sure what that ‘something’ would be: something that was interesting enough to satisfy people but that also respected the Potter family’s privacy was a tall order.
“We could discuss it over dinner, if you like,” Potter offered, so brightly that for a moment Draco wasn’t sure he’d heard the other wizard properly.
“Did you just… ask me on a date?” Draco said, blinking.
Potter shrugged. “Well, I’m trying to. I recognize that I’m not divorced yet, but my wife is out with her girlfriend tonight so…” He smiled again and Draco swallowed.
“Um… that’s…” Draco didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t often that he was at a loss for words, but Potter seemed to have that sort of unfair effect on him.
“It’s your decision. I won’t pressure you either way,” Potter said.
Draco thought about that for a very long moment. He glanced down at the teacup he was still holding and thought about the fact that Potter still knew how he liked his tea even after all this time. He thought about how much trust it must have taken Potter to invite him here in the first place, given their history. And then he thought about how potentially sticky this situation could become, but also that he might get everything he’d wanted since he was about fourteen.
And then he said yes.