Chapter Text
“Luna, why is it that you’re so familiar with Muggle London?”
Most wizards or students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would have no business in Muggle London, of all places. Loud traffic, blaring horns, soaked people running about with comically large umbrellas, seeking shelter in warm coffee shops and local bookstores. Not exactly an ideal location for a wizard rendezvous.
Though there they were, Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood, stood within the pools of Muggles.
Luna was taking the lead in their promenade across the bustling street, Harry barely keeping sight of her blonde hair in the monotone crowd. She turned around to face Harry with an extended eyebrow. All whilst walking straight without bumping into anybody.
“I believe I’ve always been quite fascinated when it comes to Muggles. My mother definitely harbored an affinity towards Muggle chemisty, as they call it. It was when she went to a muggle bookstore where she returned home bearing a book for tourists in Muggle London.” She smiled lightly at the thought of her mother.
Harry could only smile back, barely having the heart to correct her on her pronunciation of chemistry. Luna stopped at a red traffic light and tugged on Harry’s overcoat, pulling him a bit closer to avoid separation.
The pair had been sent to London for their Muggle Studies course, more specifically to admire the post-war serenity it offered. The Death Eaters had been exterminated out of the wizarding society following the defeat of Voldemort. This granted many wizards, especially students, the opportunity to safely traverse the busy streets and shops.
It had been Hermione who made the original suggestion to integrate some form of independent roaming in a Muggle-dominated area, to practice their communication using non-wizarding terms. She claimed it was a way to improve their vocabulary, though others just interpreted it as her wanting a little excursion. Nonetheless, they were given a clear set of instructions: Purchase an item at any shop, take part in a tour or touristic activity, use public transportation, and order something at a sit-down cafe of sorts.
Halfway through the list of objectives Harry noticed a different blond in the cesspool of humans. A male with a familiar smirk and noble posture. One who had taken notice of the brunette not far from him, staring.
His dull eyes met Harry’s, and all he could do in response was stare for a brief moment before looking away.
They hadn’t spoken much this year. Perhaps a word or two exchanged in Potions when borrowing ingredients. Harry didn’t expect any interaction from him, though. He had this innate feeling that Malfoy had changed somehow. He still heard the snarky comments he spewed towards his friends, but something took the edge off his otherwise vile word choice.
Draco scoffed and turned to face Blaise, who was working on locating something on the small map he had in his hands. Blaise looked up in confusion, he didn’t make much of Malfoy’s sudden behavior. The two walked south whilst Harry and Luna walked northwards.
“You could talk to him, Harry.” Luna’s gentle voice interrupted Harry’s train of thoughts. “I’ve seen him look at you before. It’s different from the last few years. His eyes lack the vengeful hate they once had.” Her observations slowly correlated with his own.
Speaking to Malfoy, or even acknowledging their mutual friends felt foreign. The concept itself was rather unfamiliar for Harry, who hadn’t had a full interaction with the pureblood since the war. Some wounds simply shouldn’t be reopened.
Though, others could be.
Harry took a moment to think about the odd situation at hand whilst stepping inside the tube, lightly holding onto Luna’s arm as not to lose her. He could speak with Malfoy, he could clear the air. No, it was unnecessary. He didn’t need to speak to Malfoy, nor did Malfoy need to speak with him.
The idea lingered as he and Luna approached Ron and Hermione at the meeting point. Behind them stood a tall figure staring at what felt like Harry’s direction. Harry didn’t dare steal a glance, but he felt those cold eyes burning his skin as they stayed put.
~
The second day in London had a similar list of objectives. They were required to observe tourist attractions and write a report on Muggle behavior. Luna had already a quill in her hand when they neared Big Ben, looking at all the tourists taking pictures and posing in silly formations for the camera. It felt bittersweet, seeing them put on their best smiles to perfectly preserve the memories.
By the time Harry had produced a full-length page detailing the extent of Muggle photography, he had felt quite tired due to a lack of sleep. Sleep was hard to come by nowadays.
“I saw a cafe earlier. They offer a drink adjacent to Butterbeer. If you’d like, we could try it. The cafe shouldn’t be too far away.” Luna’s gentle voice now breaks his train of thoughts. Harry displayed a small smile in response before they made their way to said cafe.
It was around 2pm. The afternoons in London were most pleasant. Rush hour prevailed at 5 to 6, so Harry and Luna weren’t completely drowning in crowds of people.
“I think I’d like to order a croissant. Narcissa used to bake them for us children before my mother passed away.” The blonde spoke without looking at Harry, almost as if she weren’t directly speaking with him at all.
“It was after her death where my father became immensely upset whenever I mentioned visiting the Malfoys again. Then I saw the person who Draco had become at Hogwarts and suddenly I lost my appetite for croissants.” She tucked a lock of platinum hair behind her ear and smiled before continuing. “I think it’s okay to embrace this craving though.”
Harry had always harbored admiration for Luna. Her ability to perfectly articulate her thoughts felt so complicated to come by, since he had always struggled with emotional expression. Luna didn’t neglect her emotions. She embraced them, she smiled when she was happy and told stories from her soul when upset. Yet, despite acknowledging her emotions, she never showed any visible distress. Because she didn’t see the need to. That was truly admirable to him.
When walking along the pavement, Harry felt a pair of eyes on him. To the surprise of nobody, Malfoy stood on the opposite side of the road, aggressively walking, shoes clacking against the ground as he looked straight at Harry. Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes before dramatically turning his head away, trying to communicate his disinterest in instigating this time.
This did not go well by Malfoy.
Just as Harry wanted to alert Luna of the situation, he heard a shrill voice from across the street, blaring in his direction.
“Oi, Potter, you pretentious prick, why the long face?” Malfoy cackled.
“Piss off, Malfoy. Go complain to your father. Oh, that’s right, he’s in jail. For genocide.” Harry barked back at the blond, not caring about the bystanders staring at them.
“Watch your mouth you bastard. I’ll have you in detention with McGonagall for the rest of your career, you hear me?”
“I’d like to see you try, you’re a real scumbag, you know that right? What happened Malfoy, nobody wants to follow your orders anymore? Why, I’m surprised. You’re just so likeable, it must be impossible not to.”
“One more word from that nasty mouth of yours, Potter, and I will have at you. Watch your words, you blithering idiot.”
“Yeah, well how about you stop staring at me in public, you creep. I’ll have you know we wouldn’t be having this conversation if you hadn’t stared at me with those wide eyes. Watch yourself, infantile dickwad.”
A small intermission had been forcefully implemented by Luna, who now cleared her throat. Harry noticed a small group of people staring in shock, among them a mother with a flabbergasted expression who held her hands to her small child’s ears.
“Oh.”
“Are you quite well, Harry?” Luna giggled.
“Quite, actually.”
“I figured.”
Then came the voice again.
“Are we finished consulting with our babysitter now? Or shall I give you two an additional half-hour to discuss your punishment later?” The boy snickered and all Blaise, who walked beside him, could do was roll his eyes and put his hand on his face.
“You’re mad as a hatter, trying to scream across the road with all these Mug- people watching. Bugger off, Malfoy.”
“Oh, teeny-weeny Potter has grown a backbone now, it seems. Anything for the Golden Boy, we wouldn’t want to be punished for defying his ever-lasting glory.” He now made odd hand motions while smirking.
“Bloody hell, Malfoy. Piss off. You’re embarrassing.”
“You first, Potter!”
“Go to hell.”
“Only if you do!”
~
Harry sat in a booth at the cafe, enjoying his drink while Luna just looked at him, completely appalled. He noticed.
“It wasn’t that bad, Lunes.”
“A family asked me if it was a skit for a theater promotion.”
“And you said it wasn’t?”
“In my rightest mind, I did.”
“Merlin, Luna. You heard the wanker. He’s simply a fool, spewing insults on a busy street like that. Can’t believe that is the singular individual receiving the Black and Malfoy fortune.”
“You did the same thing, and you’re the heir to the Potter and Black fortune.” Luna’s response brought things into perspective for Harry, and he had a realization.
“I’m in massive trouble when we’re back, aren’t I?”
“Perhaps”
~
“Such immaturity is absolutely ridiculous, you boys are grown now. I simply cannot believe that such childish topics arised once more and landed in my office. Boys, it has been well over seven years, a war has passed, your headmaster has been replaced, what on Merlin’s earth will it take to get you two in order?” McGonagall now looked at both the boys, a sour expression painted on her face.
“And you, Potter, mentioning the unfortunate circumstance of Mr. Malfoy’s incarceration, right before a group of clueless Muggles. I’m not sure what you were thinking, but genocide was certainly the worst word to have used.”
Draco looked to the side, Harry, who sat beside him, looked straight at their headmaster.
“Headmaster, with all due respect, Malfoy has a sickly habit of provoking people for his own humor’s benefit. I believe he finds it rather satisfying to rile up poor victims to paint himself as a superior being.” Harry wasn’t sure himself what any of that had meant, but if it gets that idiot off his back, then he’d be quite satisfied.
“While we are aware of that situation, what brought you to verbally assault him on a busy street and thus violate the peace of an entire family, to the point where an officer from the Ministry contacted us and questioned the assignment you were given?”
Draco now interrupted. “Professor-”
“Headmaster.”
“Headmaster, we are most sorry for this unfortunate situation, I do admit to having provoked Potter and am deeply sorry. I regret my actions and we will not allow this to happen again. I am willing to meet the appropriate punishment in detention.”
McGonagall laughed and looked at him, who looked rather confused.
“Although I believe that you’re being genuine, I’m afraid we’ll have to resort to other measures. You may continue touring with your preferred groups for the week, but you two will have to produce the report in the form of an essay together for your final credits of the project. This means you two will be meeting all of next week to complete a draft and edited version of the paper.”
Not even the most talented writer the world had to offer could replicate the expressions of pure shock and frank disgust on Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy’s faces in words.
“Surely, Headmaster-” Harry began to speak.
“No.” McGonagall smiled.
“No excuses, boys.”
~
The tension between the pair of students was considerably high by the time they left the office. Harry, in particular, was most unsatisfied with the situation at hand.
“Was it worth it, Malfoy? Two minutes of ridicule and now we have to produce this bloody paper together over an entire week. Despite your marks, you are seriously stupid.”
“Mind shutting up for once, Potter? You’re such a prick. No amount of insults you throw at me will change the situation we’re in. So kindly refrain from approaching me over the course of this week. I’ll see your pathetic arse next Monday in Muggle Studies.”
“Piss off, Malfoy.”
“You first, Potter.”
So they went their separate ways.
Never in his life did Harry want to strangle somebody more than he did right now.