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“Okay, there are three pedals. The gas, the brake, and the clutch. Gas means go, brake means stop, and the clutch changes gears. With me so far?”
“Yes. No. Who’s idea was this?”
“Yours. Don’t worry. It’s easier than it sounds.”
“Well, it sounds bloody impossible,” Draco grumbled, flexing his hands on the steering wheel.
“To start, let’s turn on the car.”
“Right... and how do I do that?”
Harry chuckled, motioning to the key hanging out of the ignition.
“Hold down the clutch and twist the key until the engine starts.”
Draco nodded, a very serious look on his face. He took a deep breath and Harry had to hide his amusement by looking out the other window.
When the old engine sputtered to life, Draco gasped, his head whipping towards Harry.
“Well done!” he praised, patting his knee. Draco pouted.
“Don’t patronize me,” he grumbled, turning forwards.
When Harry had come home a few weeks ago with a car, Draco felt well within his right to be a bit exasperated. What did they need a car for? They were wizards! They could apparate or Floo, or even just hop on a broom. Or, heaven forbid, use the Muggle public transport. But then Harry explained that he and his Muggle cousin had fixed it up together as a way to reconnect after the war, and boy did that make Draco feel like an arse.
Draco had been mostly right, though. They still used the Floo more often than not. Harry only drove the car occasionally, but he always came home in such a great mood after taking the car out that Draco got curious. Was it really that fun? So he asked Harry to teach him to drive. A request he was quickly beginning to regret.
“This is entirely too complicated,” Draco complained, jerking in his seat as he tried to shift into second gear.
Harry had taken the time to explain to him the difference between a manual and an automatic transmission, then, much to Draco’s dismay, announced he’d brought home a manual vehicle. He also explained how a manual transmission worked and it did help Draco understand why he needed to use so many blasted pedals, but it didn’t make actually driving the thing any easier.
To his credit, Harry was remarkably patient with Draco, despite him stalling the car multiple times, jerking through gears, and confusing the gas and the brake more than once. Each time, he calmly explained why it had happened and how he could avoid it.
Sooner than Draco thought wise, Harry decided Draco was good enough to take into Muggle London to do some driving with other people on the road. Draco was very nervous, to say the least.
“Okay, slow down here. Watch out for the zebra crossing.”
“What in Merlin’s name is a zebra?” Draco asked, eyes firmly glued to the road.
“It’s like a stripped horse, I think? They live in Africa.”
“Why in the world are they crossing here?”
“No, that’s just what it’s called. It's a pedestrian crossing.”
“I will never understand Muggles,” Draco muttered, stopping at the black and white stripes on the road, thinly smiling at the group of people cheerily waving at him as they crossed.
They continued to drive around for a while longer, Harry quietly giving directions out of the busy high street and back into the country.
Draco was slowly gaining confidence as the transitions between gear shifts got smoother and smoother, the movements coming a bit more naturally.
Once they reached the country roads proper, Draco even started looking around more, no longer feeling like he had to constantly watch the road. The gentle hills around them were dotted with sheep, a few farmers standing in the fields with them and offering friendly waves as they drove past.
It was while Draco was watching the sheep that Harry suddenly shouted.
“Draco, watch out!”
Draco panicked, taking his feet off the pedals and his hands off the wheel. Harry grabbed it before they went spinning into the ditch and the car gave a concerning lurch, then died, a few lights in the dash blinking angrily. Both of them panting, Harry still leaned over Draco, clutching the wheel, they looked up at a large deer standing in the road, blinking stupidly at them before slowly lumbering off of the road as if it hadn’t almost become a red smear across the hood.
Neither of them said anything for a moment. To Draco, the silence was deafening. He knew from his father, the longer it was quiet, the angrier the person was. And Harry hadn’t said anything yet.
“I’m sorry,” Draco blurted out, hoping to quell the storm before it began. “I wasn’t watching and I forgot the clutch and I completely just let go of everything. I could have ruined your car or gotten you hurt or-”
Harry cut off Draco’s desperate apology with hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look at him.
“Are you alright?” he asked, green eyes shining with worry.
Draco blinked at him, completely taken aback by the concern radiating from Harry. That’s not something an angry person usually asks, and Draco didn’t know what to do, so he just nodded.
Harry let out a heavy breath.
“Thank god,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against Draco’s. “That was so fucking scary.”
Draco let out a slightly manic laugh, the anxiety and fear draining out of him, leaving him shaking. Harry wasn’t mad. Harry was relieved. He’d been so prepared for a verbal lashing, he didn't know what to do with this gentle softness.
“Draco, you’re shaking. Are you sure you’re okay?” Harry asked, grabbing Draco’s hands and rubbing soothing circles into the backs.
“I’m okay,” he muttered.
Because, in truth, he was, for the most part. But how do you verbalize the feeling of anxiety and anticipation one feels after a lifetime of nothing but beration without looking utterly pathetic? How can he explain that his expectation of being shouted at had nothing to do with Harry and everything to do with the image of his father that haunted his every move.
“Switch with me. I’ll drive us home. The sun is starting to set anyway.”
The ride home was quiet. Peaceful. The evening sun lit up the inside of the car a warm gold, and Draco couldn’t help admiring how good Harry looked in its splendor. He was humming a mindless tune and in between shifting gears, his hand would find Draco’s.
He couldn’t help thinking about what could have happened had Harry not stopped them. The car could have gotten destroyed. They could have killed that deer. That deer could have killed them. But strangely, Draco didn’t dwell on the thoughts like he might have in the past. He simply acknowledged the thoughts, then let them go. He felt calm, a deep breath after a long day.
He looked over at Harry, the evening sun highlighting his handsome, boyish face. He felt Draco’s eyes on him, so he looked over, casting him a smile and wink, and Draco felt his heart swell.
“I love you,” he breathed into the air between them, the words feeling bigger than the space in the car allowed.
Harry quickly pulled the car over onto the side of the road, throwing it into park. He turned to Draco, a grin threatening to break free.
“I love you, too,” he said softly, opening his arms.
Draco slid across the bench seat into the embrace, smiling into the kiss Harry pressed reverently into his lips. Draco relished in the closeness, sighing when Harry gently cupped his face.
The car didn’t move again until the sun went down.