Chapter Text
It was the most golden of mornings, sunlight gently making its lazy mark through open windows. A small coffee shop at the edge of the town, away from tall skyscrapers, took in every last ray of sun. Tall windows that cast the glow onto every surface in a dazzling haze. There was something so magical about the hushed atmosphere of murmuring customers and hissing of espresso machines.
Though the place was Muggle-run, Harry still found his legs leading him towards this shop every single morning. With a copy of the morning paper under one arm and his empty briefcase in the other, he would rush into the coffee house with a ready smile. Somehow within the years, he became a morning person, for the sole reason of soaking up the pre-noon sun in quaint places like this one.
He found comfort sinking into one of the plush armchairs and not having a single person in the shop recognize him. Here no one knew who he was or what his true identity was. This place was a few blocks away from the Ministry’s HQ, but he wasn’t worried.
He was more afraid of the screaming fanboys who drooled after his monthly centrefold spreads. His celebrity status peaked when he became the Wizarding world’s biggest playboy, finding his way through with his shirt off most of the time. His businessman disguise for these kinds of mornings helped lingering eyes not stay on him too long.
The baristas here knew him enough to not bat an eye at his Surprise Me! every single day. They loved how excited he became watching them craft his drinks with care and always added new spins to them. Sometimes if he liked a drink to the point of going up for seconds, he’d end up ordering it the rest of the week.
Today he asked for something stronger and was given a triple shot juniper latte. There was a sweet bitterness to it as the prickly sweet scent of juniper mixed in with the sharp espresso and milk. Carefully carrying his drink to his usual spot, he froze when he noticed someone else already there. It was rare, but not a surprise since he didn’t exactly own the chair.
Maybe it was more surprising to see Draco Malfoy sitting there, one leg crossed over the other, blowing gently on his drink. His eyes glanced up at Harry and the expression on his face quickly shifted to amusement. With a slight chuckle, Draco leaned forward to place the drink down on the tiny table in front of the seat.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Draco smiled and motioned at the armchair next to him.
“You’re one to talk, Malfoy,” Harry set his drink down next to Draco’s, knowing he’d spill it with one wrong turn.
Shaking his head, Draco waved a hand at Harry, “Oh, please, just Draco is fine. We aren’t crazy kids anymore. I’ve told plenty of old classmates to drop formalities. I think once you’ve spent eight years together, you can.”
“Well, we weren’t exactly spending time together those eight years,” Harry said and sunk down into the chair.
Mornings weren’t usually eventful for him, but seeing someone like Draco after almost ten years of not, was bizarre, to say the least. Harry eyed the proper wealthy coats and shirts Draco had on, down to the polished shoes. The way he held himself, relaxed yet with a proper posture, was mesmerizing. His hair was fuller and fell back in soft blond waves. Picking up his drink with poise and taking the smallest of sips, Harry was fascinated by who he’d become in the lost time. It was definitely Draco by looks, but not the attitude.
Of course, to be fair, they were both in their 30s now.
“Which means we can get to know each other now. Though this is rather sudden and I do apologize if I spooked you,” Draco raised a brow, “but I found this place by recommendation.”
“I don’t mind,” Harry reached for his latte.
Draco watched him, “This does feel like a dream though. After not seeing you in person for years and suddenly here you are… You look all the same, maybe a little grizzly, and certainly more handsome than back in school.”
“Are you implying I wasn’t handsome before?” Harry tried not to laugh while holding the hot cup.
“I mean you were that skinny kid with bedhead hair and wide owl eyes. What do you want me to say to that? I was the same. We both had the nastiest of attitudes too. Me especially,” Draco said.
“Oh, did you now?”
Draco came forward to gently slap Harry’s knee, before leaning back into his chair with a small smile. Looking at him now, his eyes were a little sadder than what Harry remembered. The eye bags under them told me he possibly worked for the Ministry as well, possibly late nights every so often. But his smile was genuine. No ill intentions, no mocking scowls, no words of malice.
Maybe not seeing each other for ten years did the trick. Brushed away all awkwardness and pushed aside all negative emotions toward each other. It was such a huge gap that they didn’t have to go over the war that happened in the 7th year and didn’t have to juggle the ‘how is so and so’ of classmates. Yet, Harry was curious if Draco was married now or who he stayed in contact with.
“Are you with anyone right now? Married?” Harry spoke and immediately realized how off the question sounded coming out. Was this too forward this early on?
“Not wasting a second, I see,” Draco sipped his drink, eyeing Harry over it.
Harry cleared his throat, “It was bound to come up. Everyone I know now is either married or having kids.”
“Are you married or having kids?” Draco asked.
“Unfortunately not.”
A confused look from Draco, “Why is that unfortunate? I’m not married either. Perfectly content with my bachelor life.”
From the way Draco surrounded himself with most of the Slytherin girls in their 8th year, Harry was sure he’d end up with one of them. He’d been especially peachy with Astoria, they constantly stay glued by the hip and caught on occasion with blushing faces. But it was best not to poke that bear in case the breakup wasn’t the best.
“Well, isn’t that great,” Harry said.
The first awkward silence between them struck and Harry took the time to indulge more in his latte. Humming quietly to himself as he let the hot sips warm his body. Next to him, Draco was pulling two tea bags out of what looked to be a London Fog. Hurried to the nearest garbage can and back.
When Draco was back, comfortable in his chair, his eyes strayed to Harry. The look in his eyes was fascination, but thinking hard about something. Harry wondered what thoughts Draco harboured about him now. Were there really no hard feelings from all those years back?
“So, I’m assuming you became an Auror?” Draco asked.
And came the sudden expectations. Harry felt his hands wrap a little tighter around his mug, feeling almost guilty. He got that question so much over the years, that he just lied and agreed. The faces he used to get were horror and disgust when he told people his real job: a model for the gaudy Wizarding playboy magazine. Of course, he was also known for his extravagant parties and drinking habits, which usually led him down strange adventures at 2am.
Harry nodded nervously, “No surprise there, eh? I am taking a well-deserved break at the moment, only coming into work to check up on the department. Yourself?”
“Guess.”
It had to be the Ministry, right? Unless Draco found something much grander and higher up. Harry recognized the brand of the clothes he wore, they weren’t exactly affordable to just anyone. However, it was best not to judge. Not yet.
“One of the Ministry Departments?” Harry asked slowly and watched amusement cross Draco’s face.
“You and everyone else assumes so,” Draco smiled, “but no. I run the new wand shop in Diagon Alley.”
“I didn’t expect that,” Harry said and tried to imagine Draco selling and picking out wands for curious first years. He also felt like a complete arse for assuming a Ministry position for Draco, when he hated how others did the same for him.
Suddenly filled with energy, Draco scooted to the edge of his seat, “You want to see?”
“Now?”
“Why not? You’re off, I’m off too. Be a little more adventurous, Harry,” Draco stood up with a wink.
It was there on what started off as a peaceful Tuesday morning that Harry never imagined this. When Draco took his hand to lead him through busy London streets, he felt electric. Nothing would make him believe he was hurrying through crowds of people towards Diagon Alley with his old school rival.
When the wind blew in their direction, the scent of Draco’s cologne whafted in his face as they walked on. It was something earthy yet sweet, a nostalgic scent as if Harry knew this before. Something about it smelled that of when you opened a wand box for the first time.
He was quite surprised that Draco took the Leaky Cauldron route to the Alley, tapping against the bricks faster than anything Harry's seen. It was even more surprising to witness the packed and bustling street. The school year was well underway, yet student robes were scurrying all over. Walking high over them, eyeing the excited faces brought a strange melancholy to Harry.
It had been years since he’d been here, the last time was for an actual Auror reason funny enough. He’d been dating one of the highest ranking Aurors at the time and Harry tagged along to a case.
It was to deal with a cursed dark object harboured in Flourish and Blotts. It fed on the happiness of students and passersby, devouring any positive emotions and tarnishing the shop’s atmosphere. The case was a darker one and went far deeper than any of the Aurors imagined, but after that case, Harry never regretted not becoming an Auror. He felt much better posing for cameras and dancing the night away.
Draco led them in the direction of Ollivanders. Harry found himself looking all around as if it was his first time. This route brought forth all shops meant for Hogwarts students and filling up their school checklists. Seeing how nothing’s changed over the years made him a little emotional. The splendour of the street, down to the cobblestones under his feet, made him want to slow down. To take it in a little more. Even seeing kids gawk and gasp at the new broom models in the window of Broomstix caused him to smile like no tomorrow. It was a feeling he knew too well.
The old Ollivander shop was cleaned up but kept up the previous storefront aesthetics. A new paint job, a new sign and several potted plants sat in front. Yet there was still something nostalgic about the feel of it. This was a feeling you really couldn’t take away from the shop. No matter how many new paint jobs.
“Draco’s Wand Parlour,” Harry read aloud.
“I’m not the best with names,” Draco said, “tried to go with Whimsical Wand Emporium, but there’s a Whimsical something a few shops down.”
Draco reached into his pockets and pulled out a little golden key tied to a red string. He unlocked the door and ushered Harry in.
The place was just as Harry remembered. Towering shelves of wands stretched deeper and deeper towards the end of the shop. The same musky smell reminded Harry of a library, yet it brought in an old incomparable wistfulness. The large oak counter was still up at the front with the same silver desk bell. A sleeping grey owl was perched in the corner, its face tucked underneath its wing.
“This place is incredible. Brings back so many memories,” Harry gasped, stepping further in.
Draco smiled, “I decided to keep the authenticity.”
He led Harry through the shop, showing off the wand shelves and going on about what it’s been like to run the place. The shop was beautiful and different in all the best ways. Something about the space showed that Draco didn’t live alone, as Harry noticed two mugs on the back counter. Or the two chairs at the little table, both pushed out.
Maybe Draco was really a bachelor and found someone new to date. Harry didn’t want to pry and hoped Draco didn’t find out about his secret life. When he pictured what Draco’s reaction would be seeing him in his little golden speedo… His whole face blushed an embarrassed pink. Their lives were so vastly different and somehow they found each other in the same coffee shop.
“You’re looking a little warm,” Draco reached a hand up and pressed it to Harry’s forehead. The cool rings on his hands brought in a little bit of relief.
Suddenly the loud ring of a Muggle phone broke them apart and Harry dove into his pocket for it. A lot of wizards in his line of work carried around phones to make it easier for communication. Owls weren’t always the best for instant responses.
Draco eyed the device intensely, watching Harry answer and mumble a few words into it. When Harry hung up, Draco looked very surprised.
“I’ve seen a few wizards with one of those, but still don’t understand how they work,” Draco said.
“I can show you the next time,” Harry smiled, “I do have to run off now. Thought my day was free, but work called.”
Draco looked confused, "Didn't know Aurors use those things…"
Feeling like he would be found out any moment now, Harry muttered a flurry of goodbyes and rushed out the door.
There was no way Draco could ever know.
As his day progressed, Harry couldn't stop thinking about him. All through his summertime photoshoot with the other models. All through his long shower to wash off the glitter and makeup. When the afterparty rolled in, he couldn't shake Draco off his mind.
Suddenly all the men who were coming onto him weren't as interesting. Normally Harry would let them take over his body, and ravish him till ultimate gratification. His nights always reached the climax in the arms of others or popping champagne bottles in the center of the dancefloor. Always loud, always colourful, always leaving him breathless.
Almost every night was a party and he lived and loved all the attention he got from them. Everyone wanted him and everyone wanted to be him.
But tonight, something about the quiet sunny coffeeshop with Draco kept slipping into his mind. He felt that his mind wandered more to the newly refurbished Ollivanders and how Draco pulled him through between the shelves.
So no one would ask any questions about why he was zoning out, Harry found the nearest jock and pulled him into the crowd. There was no one point in daydreaming about all that when the hottest celebrities of the Wizarding world were in this room. And Harry could easily pick any of them off to play with. Making out with some random hunk might pique the interest of others more.
He craved and breathed the attention. More people to notice him, watch him and talk about him. If he made the tabloids and papers the next morning, he did something right.
Except tonight as his lips found another, as he downed shot after another, he didn’t feel as fulfilled as usual. He wished he could find Draco and sit down with him for whatever reason. Something about that peacefulness felt more exhilarating to him than this party. The music was far too long and the alcohol was hitting him in all the wrong ways.
He said his goodbyes to a few people, before leaving the party in a hurry. The streets outside were chilly and he was getting hungry. None of the nearby diners or pubs appealed to him, since walking in meant dealing with possible fangirling.
His legs led him towards a little grocery store on the corner and he stumbled inside. Under the sharp fluorescent lights, he squinted down at his clothes. A thin and loosened tank top and jeans covered with far too much glitter. A glittery handprint sat on his thigh and he smiled a little at the hunk whose lap he sat in that night. There was probably a similar one on his ass.
When he turned towards the produce section, he noticed a head of pearly blond hair. Freezing in his tracks, Harry carefully peered over the tower of apples.
It was Draco.
In his arms was a kid, fast asleep with their head propped on Draco’s shoulder. Draco pulled a cart along, sighing aloud. The kid shuffled around a bit and Draco made a small shushing noise and patted the child’s back.
Harry leaned in a little too much and a few of the apples toppled over. Cursing under his breath, he knelt to pick them up and just as he came back up, a very confused Draco stared right at him.
“Harry? What are you—” Draco raised a brow to Harry’s outfit and eyed the pants.
“Perfectly content with your bachelor life?” Harry chuckled, walking over and eyeing the kid.
Draco sighed, “And I assume you aren’t really an Auror? You can’t be looking like… that.”
“No, I’m something far less, how do I put this, frightening?” Harry smiled nervously.
The judgemental look from Draco said enough. He didn’t think it was the best idea to reveal what he did yet. But seeing how Draco also lied about his own life, maybe it was alright to say something?
“You reek of alcohol and sweat and you have a handprint on your… thigh,” Draco gulped and hugged his child closer, “I guess we both have some explaining to do.”
“Your place or mine?” Harry grinned.
Tutting loud, Draco reached over to shove him lightly, “My son is here mind you. But my place is fine. Get that stench off you. Just help me finish shopping first.”
Without another word, Harry took the cart and followed Draco through the supermarket aisles. It was pretty dead, aside from a few elderly folks, Harry didn’t see much life. When Draco stopped to reach for something, Harry hurried to stand over him and bring it down in a swipe. Flustered, Draco kept his head down and hurried along.
Not many words were exchanged through the whole ordeal. They finished the shopping and as a sign of showing off, Harry carried all the bags. Letting his muscles flex through the tank top. They walked through the dark streets and Harry wondered how Draco expected to get through with all the bags and his small son. Who Harry placed to be a toddler and a very quiet one. Not once did he wake up or stir. Snored peacefully on his dad’s shoulder.
Diagon Alley at night was a whole different place. Something a little more haunting and unsettling than the cheery liveliness of the day. People who passed by, stared as they walked along and Harry made a note to walk on Draco’s left. Away from any prying eyes.
At the wand shop, Draco took Harry through a side door leading upstairs to an apartment. It was a beautiful place, minimal in windows but made up for in decor. Plants and books took up the space with a few interesting trinkets scattered about. One of the windows was a large circular one, looking out into the Alley and a few glass charms hung in front of it.
“I’m going to put Scorpius to bed and be right back,” Draco whispered and hurried into the hall.
Harry nodded and went over to the shelf to eye a few wands. Why Draco kept so many up here was interesting. Upon closer inspection, they were a little more intricate with designs engraved into them. When Harry picked up one he turned it over to see an assortment of flowers etched into the wood. In his hands, the wand felt warm and a little melancholic. Something didn’t feel right with it.
Each wand box had names on them and before Harry could pick up another he heard Draco approaching. Carefully put the box down and hurried to sit on the couch.
Draco appeared with a bottle and two wine glasses.
“I know you probably drank a lot tonight, but you can just hold it for the company,” Draco said and fell back onto the couch with a sigh.
“I don’t mind another drink,” Harry took the glass, “you look like you need it.”
“Every time I put Scorpius to bed I wonder if I’m giving him the best life I can,” Draco poured them both some of the alcohol.
Sniffing it, Harry nodded along, “Care to explain the whole child situation? Why lie about being a bachelor?”
“Well,” Draco took a careful sip, “I was married to someone almost out of Hogwarts and thought it would turn out all perfect. All I wanted was a happy family and a happy life. We had a baby together and I was realizing who I really was. Before I knew it, I was a divorced man with a baby to raise on my own. The mother stormed out on me, wanting nothing to do with us.”
“Well, that’s serious. Never imagined you of all people to be divorced before hitting 30. Who did you end up marrying that couldn't accept you for you and stormed out on their kid? I only remember you hanging out with two girls ever,” Harry almost chugged half his glass.
Frowning into his wine, Draco took another sip, “Evil incarnate that’s who. She nearly burned my shop down for what I did. Never marry someone till you really, really know who they are. I mean it. You think that just because you’re good friends, you’ll be great married.”
“Who was it? Greengrass? Parkinson?” Harry mused aloud and Draco’s frown deepened.
His response was downing the rest of his alcohol and twirling the glass in his hands.
“Women,” Draco groaned with a roll of his eyes.
“Okay, then tell me what caused the breakup?” Harry scooted a little closer.
All that came from the room was the ticking of the clock and time almost stopped when Draco glanced up at Harry. Both were leaned against the couch pillows, sunken into them and each other’s eyes too. Something about the gaze broke apart the peaceful barrier they set down for each other. Something about the way that Draco reached a hand up to caress Harry’s cheek brought a new comfort and feeling to sprout between them.
Harry hadn’t felt something so delicate in ages. The touch of Draco was tender and made so much sense. They were no longer schoolboys with pent-up anger. No longer awkward twenty year olds. When Draco's hand moved up the side of his face, tucking a curl behind his ear, Harry made the chance to move in.
Their lips met with more ferocity than Harry thought, a tender touch turned into a needing want for something both longed for. When Draco placed his glass down to climb over to Harry, letting his hands pull at Harry’s tank top, Harry wasn’t sure if a sober Draco would do the same.
When they plunged into another kiss, it was quickly stopped by the crying of Scorpius in the other room. Draco didn’t waste a second and hurried off Harry without another word. Poor Harry sat there with wide eyes, an empty wine glass and far too turned on to leave.
“Oh, Merlin, have mercy on me…” he groaned and pressed both palms into his eyes.
He didn’t expect this at all.