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‘Harry has wanted a dog for a really long time,’ Cormac explained in his nasally, horrible little voice. In an act of great restraint, Draco did not punch him, and instead shot back the rest of his drink.
It was a Friday night, and Friday nights meant the Curse-Breakers all went out to the Leaky Cauldron together. To Draco’s complete dismay, these nights were optional in theory but mandatory in reality if you wanted to get anywhere as a failed former Death Eater. So he sat there, got horrendously drunk with his boring as fuck colleagues, and tried not to think about how Cormac was practically molesting Harry underneath the table.
To be fair, Harry looked fucking delicious in his white button up and tight jeans . He was just the right side of buff, with broad shoulders and veiny forearms and an arse that haunted Draco’s dreams. Draco ordered another Firewhiskey.
‘Yeah, well,’ Harry sighed, ‘I dunno, dogs need a lot of attention, right? And I’ve been travelling so much the past few years…’
‘Mmm,’ Cormac said, making aggressive eye contact and nodding. ‘But you’re staying in England now?’
‘Yeah,’ Harry grinned, ‘it’s great. Nice to be able to see my mates and Teddy a bit more, you know?’
‘It’s so difficult being away from your loved ones all the time,’ Cormac said, batting his eyelashes. His skin was quite oily, Draco thought. And his hairline was already receding. He’d been more attractive in school. He’d been more attractive when he was chasing after Hermione Granger and not Draco’s future husband.
‘Yeah, I guess,’ Harry shrugged, completely and infuriatingly oblivious. ‘But yeah, maybe now I’ll get a dog. No idea where to get one or how to train them or anything, mind you.’
‘Perhaps you’d need the right person to help you. I just adore dogs, and I am such a good teacher,’ Cormac purred, and Draco was at his fucking limit. He stood up, realised he was nowhere near drunk enough, and went to the bar.
‘Draco?’ Harry called out. Draco pretended not to hear and waved his bag of Galleons at the bartender.
‘How much for the whole bottle?’
…
Sometime later, Draco found himself on Harry Potter’s doorstep, holding a squirming canine of dubious breed that he had rescued from the local pound.
“Rescued”, because “broken into a barricaded facility, stolen the cutest dog he could find, and Obliviated a police officer on the way out” was a bit of a mouthful.
Draco rang the doorbell and turned sternly to the tiny dog, swaying a little.
‘Listen,’ he hissed, ‘be as cute as possible. This is a test for both of us.’ The puppy bit his finger. Draco narrowed his eyes.
The door opened and Harry Potter was there, yawning and fucking shirtless and in grey trackpants that left very little to the imagination.
It suddenly hit Draco, in a moment of clarity, that he was extremely drunk, holding a puppy, at two in the morning, on Harry Potter’s doorstep. Harry’s eyes widened.
‘Draco? Is that...a dog?’
‘Um.’ Draco’s tongue felt very thick and very heavy. There was no way out of this now. He held out the puppy. ‘I found this.’
‘You found...a dog.’
‘Yes.’ Draco’s inebriated mind searched for a not-fucking-insane explanation. ‘Ermmm...just was walking home...and found this dog. Just by the side of the road, you know. And...you said you wanted a dog and all, so I was like, Harry! The Saviour of all beings, including dogs. It’s fate! It’s destiny! And so I am here, presenting you with your new companion, man’s best friend, the most loyal being of them all.’ Draco always got a little poetic when drunk. He tried to rein it in. ‘Erm, here you go.’ He deposited the small creature in Harry’s arms.
‘Hang on.’ Harry looked at the dog, who licked his nose. ‘So...I have a dog now?’
‘Um. Yes. So you don’t need to go and find one. Particularly not with Cormac. What a shame! Anyway, I must go now, enjoy your new pal!’ Draco ran down the steps, round the corner, and threw up into the nearest bush.
…
When Draco woke up the next morning, he had exactly three thoughts: one, he was dying; two, he was never drinking again; and three, there was a slight possibility that while drunk, he had stolen a dog and gifted it to Harry Potter in the early hours of the morning.
Draco moaned and shoved his face back into the pillow.
Of course, a braver man may have gone to Harry’s house, apologised for being so fucking unhinged, and then offered to take back the dog. Draco did not do that. Draco lay in bed for the entirety of Saturday, ordered Chinese food, and watched Supernanny.
On Sunday, he was woken up by the sound of his door chiming. Grumbling, he padded into his living room, unlocked the entry wards, and was faced with a bright-eyed Harry Potter and his illegally acquired puppy in a new red collar and leash. A large truck passed by behind them and Draco briefly considered throwing himself in front of it.
‘Hi,’ Harry said, grinning. ‘I just wanted to…’
‘Oh, fucking Merlin and Morgana.’ Draco pushed his palms into his eye sockets. ‘Potter, I am so, so sorry.’
‘Don’t be! I mean, it was a bit of a surprise at all - being that it was two in the morning and you were quite drunk - but it’s really fine. Wally and I are already best friends.’ The dog gave Harry an enthusiastic lick in assent.
Draco sighed and looked at him. ‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah. Happy accidents, I guess?’
Yes. Accident. Definitely an accident.
‘Okay well, I’m pleased, although I am dreadfully sorry and--’
‘Don’t be!’ Harry inhaled deeply. ‘You see, I was thinking about what Cormac said on Friday, about how hard it’s been being away for the past few years and how I really want to settle down here, now. Like, being around the people I love, and doing things like getting a dog, and putting down roots. And being brave.’
Draco swallowed. ‘Brave how?’
‘Brave like...telling the person I like that I like them.’ Draco’s heart fucking soared. ‘Letting someone close.’ Harry stepped closer, inhaling, about to say more, and then out of nowhere--
‘Harry? Are you quite done?’ Cormac appeared from behind Harry, sauntering down Draco’s front lawn, and Draco’s entire stomach dropped. Of course. Of course. Of course Harry was talking about Cormac, not him. ‘Hello, Draco, heard you freaked out a bit with this one-’ he flicked Wally’s ear ‘-but awfully good luck Harry had me, you see, my aunt bred Crups, so I’m quite familiar with canines and have been teaching Harry all there is to know.’
‘Right. Well. That’s great.’ Draco gritted his teeth. ‘I’m so glad he has you.’
‘Me too.’ Cormac threw an arm around Harry’s shoulder. ‘Walk, Harry? We need to practise Wally’s leash training.’
‘Erm, yeah, sure Cormac, I was just--’
‘It’s fine,’ Draco cut him off, and Harry gazed at him with wide green eyes. God fucking damn those eyes. ‘I get it. I’m really happy for you two.’ He slammed the door shut.
…
Did Draco briefly consider quitting his job and leaving Britain permanently? Yes. Did he book a Portkey to South America, just in case? Yes. Was he incredibly brave and did he go into work on Monday anyway? Yes.
‘Draco: one. Cowardice: zero,’ he muttered to himself as he Flooed into the Ministry.
Fortunately, Draco had finished quite a large job the previous week, and was able to hide behind a mound of paperwork for most of the morning. Unfortunately, the goddamn Boy-Who-Could-Leave-Fuck-All-Alone came to find him.
‘Hey, Draco.’ Harry’s voice jolted Draco out of his paperwork trance and he cursed this stupid open plan office. ‘Can we talk?’ Harry slid into the chair opposite him without waiting for an answer.
‘Certainly,’ Draco said, settling his features into something neutral. ‘I’m just quite busy, so--’
‘I think you got the wrong end of the stick yesterday,’ Harry said. Boy, did I ever, Draco thought.
‘It’s really fine, Potter, no need to check on me.’
‘No, but--’
‘It’s wonderful that you have someone to help with Wally, and Cormac is a very--’ Draco searched for a positive adjective ‘--determined person. I’m sure he’ll make you very happy.’
‘Draco, listen.’ Harry looked genuinely exasperated. ‘I don’t - fuck, I want someone who is kind, and doesn’t throw themselves at me, and who I wouldn’t embarrassed to take home to my friends, you know?’
Fucking ouch.
‘Well,’ Draco said stiffly, ‘that’s all fair enough, I suppose. It’s not like I’m in lo--look, what happened on Friday was truly embarrassing, and perhaps, yes, I thought yesterday...but it doesn’t matter, and I wouldn’t say I’ve thrown myself at you, and perhaps, yes, Wally was less than properly acquired, but I just thought--I will leave you alone now, alright?’ Draco went to get up with a vague plan of cry-in-an-empty-bathroom, but Harry let out a groan and grabbed his arm.
‘For someone so fucking smart, Draco, you really are an idiot.’ Draco let out a yelp of indignation before Harry took hold of his other arm, tugged him in, and kissed him in the middle of their office.
Oh, thought Draco.
…
Draco loved Friday nights.
Perhaps it was because Harry always came to pick him up from his desk, usually with a very excited Wally in tow, and they all went to the pub together. Perhaps it was because Harry had started inviting his friends, who all seemed to just accept Draco now. Perhaps it was because Harry let his hand rest on Draco’s thigh while he chatted with Ron or Dean or whoever was there, with Wally squirming beneath their legs.
Perhaps it was because Cormac watched all of this happening with a sullen glare that felt an awful lot like victory.
‘I cannot believe he’s still pulling the same shit,’ Hermione sighed, as Cormac left the pub with a busty intern in tow, shooting Harry and Draco’s table a pointed look. ‘He’s just as bad as he was in school.’
‘Hmm.’ Draco tried not to be smug and failed as he gave Cormac an exaggerated wave. Hermione laughed.
‘So glad we got stuck with you instead, even if you’re slightly insane.’
Draco mock gasped. ‘Lies and slander, Granger.’
‘Oh yeah? Tell us how you really acquired Wally.’
Draco smirked and leant down to give the mutt an ear scratch. Wally’s coat had grown out into black curls and he was getting bigger every day. He nestled further into Draco’s shins, and Draco looked up to see Harry smiling softly at him.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Draco murmured, as Harry placed a kiss on his temple. ‘I was very drunk, you know. Maybe one day I’ll remember.’