Chapter Text
June 15, 2001
Harry could hear light footsteps coming down the stairs. Step-step, step-step in quick succession, staircase gently sighing under his weight. He suppressed the urge to smile – when he rushed down 10 minutes prior, the stairs creaked under his feet every second step, but naturally, even on the brink of morning, the other man managed to be elegant and graceful.
Bare feet smacked against the hardwood of the ground floor. Harry heard them coming closer but refused to turn around and look. Instead, he continued slicing the tomato, hands already covered in its juice. A pair of arms gently sneaked around his waist; long fingers entwined on his abdomen. Exhale that was not his own tickled him behind his right ear. It brought goose bumps to his skin and he quickly pressed his bottom lip between his teeth to stop himself from grinning like an idiot.
The knife penetrated the skin of the tomato, juice spurting on his loose T-shirt and the hands of the other man.
“You’re fucking disgusting,” Draco whispered to his ear, disentangling himself from Harry’s body and lazily touching the wand he had in his pocket.
His T-shirt and Draco’s hands were suddenly clean. Harry laughed quietly and dropped the knife, watching the tomato slice itself in the matter of seconds. Then he finally, finally, he turned to face Draco, who was not hugging him anymore but still stood very close, dressed in black slacks and black shirt, white-blond hair carefully styled (but not over-styled), and face sporting his usual morning scowl.
Draco’s ‘morning scowl’ was very similar to his ‘unhappy but resigned’ scowl and it was Harry’s job to get rid of it as soon as possible. If he managed to do so, he could get 25 whole minutes of smiling and soft Draco before his ‘time to go to work’ scowl appeared.
Harry looked into Draco’s eyes and, never closing them, pecked Draco on the lips two times. When he saw Draco’s eyes close and his lips turn up in a smile, he knew the mission was accomplished, so he could slide his fingers around the other man’s cheekbones and give him a proper ‘morning before work’ kiss – not long, not passionate, but still full of meaning.
“Sometimes I forget I’m a wizard,” Harry joked as he turned his head back to the counter to watch the tomato slices fly into the salad mix by themselves.
“Good you have me here to remind you.”
Then, Draco grabbed his shoulders and in a grave tone proclaimed: “Yer a wizard, Harry!”
Every-time Draco felt comfortable enough to do one of his weirdly good impersonations, Harry’s brain had to deal with the astonishment and an especially strong wave of affection before reacting in any way. That was the reason why he just stared at Draco for about two seconds before falling into a fit of laugher. He told Draco the story of how he discovered he’s a wizard a long time ago. He wasn’t particularly surprised the other man remember its details, but the thing is, he surely didn’t tell Draco how Hagrid had said it. Yet, the blond nailed it.
Harry took the bowl of salad in his hands while Draco levitated the tea-set and both of them relocated to a big round dining table that stood in the corner of the kitchen.
“Will you be here to remind me this evening, as well?” he asked, remnants of the laugher still in his tone.
“I don’t see why not.”
Draco poured the tea into two white teacups before adding, “If you insist on sleep depriving yourself by waking up at 4.30 just to have breakfast with me, I obviously have to see to you getting to bed before midnight.”
Harry breathed in deeply the smell of tea mixed with the early summer morning. It was so nice, being cared for. It was so nice, waking up, all bleary-eyed and drowsy if you did so for a person who makes sure you’re not hurting yourself by doing it.
Smiling into his cup of tea (prepared exactly as he liked it most), he whispered,
“Sounds great.”