‘I’m not ashamed.’ He tried. He wasn’t really, he knew Harry loved him and that was all that mattered. He just couldn’t help the way he seized up and couldn’t think properly. There were too many noises and too many people and he kept forgetting his potions because time wasn’t working right. He knew it was work. The stress was bringing on his attacks too often and he couldn’t keep making his potions quick enough.
He’d zoned out again for too long and Harry had had enough. He disapparated and left Draco outside in the rain. He hadn’t even noticed it was raining.
Draco sucked in great lungfuls of air as he stumbled away from the pensieve. His heart was pounding, and his body was shaking. He realised now, now that he was getting better and he’d had time to come to terms with himself, that he hadn’t been protecting Harry from anything. He’d been lying.
Draco had justified not telling Harry the truth with the idea that Harry couldn’t love him as much as Draco loved Harry, but all he’d done was make Harry think Draco didn’t love him at all. He’d pushed him away, he’d made Harry feel like Draco didn’t want to be with him. Harry thought Draco acted strangely when they went out because Draco was ashamed of him. That couldn’t have been further from the truth.
What did it matter now though? Draco was still the same person. Sure, he didn’t have attacks nearly as often, and he didn’t have an overwhelming need to stay inside all the time, but those issues hadn’t changed. If anything, it would be worse for Draco to tell Harry now. Harry would never let him look after Teddy on his own if he knew how much of a mess Draco was. Not that he’d ever had an episode whilst Teddy was around. No, it absolutely wouldn’t do to go back on things that were done and dusted.
He’d still have to go to France.
Chapter 6
Once they got clearance, Harry asked Draco to go with him to the clinic to scope the place out. They were both going to Polyjuice; Harry going undercover as a patient, while Draco went for ‘moral support’. Draco wasn’t convinced that it would work but Harry seemed completely confident. Draco had to remind himself that Harry had more than likely done this a hundred times before and Draco had been none the wiser. That wasn’t a pretty thought.
Draco felt a little queasy as he looked at his altered appearance in the mirror. He’d Polyjuiced as one of the interns; a dark-haired, brown-eyed seventeen-year-old with non- existent cheekbones and an odd scar to the left of his mouth.
Harry wasn’t faring much better. He’d ended up Polyjuicing as one of the guys down at human resources. Some twenty-one-year-old acne prone brainless wonder. Draco hoped whoever brewed the Polyjuice did it to Draco’s standard because he would not be happy if Harry’s flawless face was ruined by this idiot.
He was waiting in the reception area of the private wizarding clinic in Harley Street. The whole building was under muggle repellent charms which acted much like disillusionment charms except they didn’t deceive witches and wizards.
He was trying his best to cast his wards as subtly as possible without withdrawing his wand from his sleeve, which was proving to be quite difficult since he couldn’t make the right wand movements very well. He prided himself on being proficient at wandless and wordless magic, but spells such as these he would admit were beyond him. His father taught him many such spells, most of which had been born from dark curses purebloods would cast on their possessions to ensure only members of the own family could possess them or use them. Of course, eventually people worked out counter-curses and such forth, but even those stayed within families.
For the first few minutes, Draco wasn’t picking up anything untoward. He was even beginning to think all their theories and leads had come to nothing when he felt a pull from an old anti-stasis charm he’d learned from the Black family archives. He felt an odd shift in the wards of the clinic which would’ve been imperceptible to pretty much anyone except himself, who knew what to look for. It was obvious to Draco that someone was keeping something here that they shouldn’t.
He was relieved to see Polyjuiced Harry leave the waiting room of Healer Matthews, the chief healer of the practice. Fake-Harry shook hands with the healer and Draco noticed a small bottle in his hand which looked like it contained small red pills. Draco was glad Harry was done, because they only had warrant for an hour’s worth of Polyjuice and they’d been inside the building for forty-five minutes already. Harry turned to Draco and shot him a dazzling smile which Draco knew was all Harry. He might be wearing a different face, but Polyjuice could only change so much.
They strolled casually out of the main doors and Draco was glad of the fresh air. He wasn’t fond of the way private clinics always tried to make it look like it wasn’t a medical facility. There were far too many scatter cushions and ‘accent walls’. It wasn’t a magazine HQ for crying out loud. They were careful of passing muggles; many wizards had been caught short leaving magically hidden buildings, forgetting that muggles weren’t accustomed to seeing people randomly appear in the middle of the street.
They made it a couple of blocks away, a distance they’d pre-agreed would be far enough for them to apparate back into Harry’s office without being too conspicuous. Harry offered Draco his arm, and apparated them both directly into his office, seeing as the wards only allowed for Harry to apparate in and out.
What Draco had failed to remember was, that occasionally if one was to apparate close to the end of the dosage of a potion, such as Polyjuice, it could sometimes trigger a reaction. So, when he and Harry landed in the office, Draco was no longer accompanying the smarmy git from HR, but the heroic git that is Harry Potter. Without thinking about it twice, which with hindsight is what Draco really should’ve done, he grabbed Harry by the collar, shoved him against his office wall, and kissed him.
Again, Harry tasted like chocolate. He must’ve had pain au chocolat for breakfast—he always was fond of sweets. Strangely enough, Harry seemed prepared for this kind of reaction, and met his kiss instantly. Unlike their previous kiss, there were no teeth and just the right amount of tongue. Draco re-mapped the inside of Harry’s mouth as if searching for the last drop of rain in a drought. Harry brought his hands up to cup Draco’s cheeks and he could feel the callouses from years of quidditch playing. Draco had always had a strange fascination with Harry’s hands.
Draco could feel the stubble Harry had regrown catching on his chin as their jaws worked. It sent a strange thrill up his spine for a reason he couldn’t identify and despite the strange circumstances, he felt like he was coming home. Harry’s lips were always warm and comforting, and this time when he pulled on Draco’s bottom lip, Draco did nothing to stop him.
The scents of cedar and grapefruit assaulted Draco’s senses again and left him feeling dizzy. His grip on the front of Harry’s robes tightened and Harry let out a strangled kind of whine as he was pulled even closer to Draco’s chest. Draco never wanted the feeling of Harry’s lips moving against his own to stop, and he especially didn’t want to have to confront whatever it was he thought he was doing, but he was quickly running out of air. Eventually he was forced to pull away, the both of them flushed and panting slightly.
‘Draco,’ Harry said breathlessly, ‘what—’
‘Don’t. You. Dare. Wear. Another. Man’s. Face. When. You’re. With. Me.’ He said as he beat Harry’s chest with his fists. His voice cracked on the last word and gave way to a tidal wave of emotion Draco himself hadn’t expected.
‘Wait, Draco…stop. What’s going on?’ Harry said, grabbing hold of Draco’s wrists. Draco couldn’t event explain because he had no idea. He was fine before they left for the clinic, albeit a little reserved out of sheer nervousness at being alone with Harry in such a foreign context. He was fine whilst he was inside the clinic, he could focus on his charms and counter-curses. Yet seeing Harry’s face again when they landed broke something in Draco and he was feeling completely overwhelmed.
Of course, he couldn’t find the words to explain any of this to Harry, so instead he let out a choked sob and collapsed against him. Harry didn’t even hesitate to wrap his arms around him and let him cry against his shoulder. Ironically, the tears beaded against Harry’s robes and rolled straight off—all Ministry approved robes were complete with permanent impervius charms. Draco felt Harry’s hand on the back of his head as he held him to his chest and the tiny gesture, something Harry had done all the time when they’d been together, nearly broke Draco.
‘Shh, shh. I’m here, it’s me. You’re ok.’ Harry whispered in his ear as Draco tried too hard to regain control of himself. He was gasping in breaths too quickly and he was at a high risk of hyperventilating, but Harry stayed whispering in his ear, acting like an anchor for him to hold onto.
‘Harry,’ he whimpered pathetically. He shouldn’t have taken this job. Not when he was so set on leaving. He couldn’t be around Harry for more than a few minutes without wishing with every fibre of his being that things could be different.
‘I know, I know, you don’t have to explain.’ Harry told him quietly and for once, Draco was inclined to believe him.
Of course, Harry sent Draco home early that day. Shame faced and apologetic, Draco let himself be nearly pushed through the floo by a wrung out looking Harry without passing on any of the information he’d discovered whilst at the clinic. Draco trusted that Harry wouldn’t get him into trouble, considering that technically Harry was Draco’s supervisor, but still; Draco felt like a prized idiot and a total failure.
He didn’t even have the energy to make it to his bed as he stumbled out of the fireplace in his dingy flat. He’d cried away his energy for the day and his eyes were so raw it was painful just to blink. He curled up on the beat up old sofa he’d bought cheap at an auction and pulled the thick woollen throw over himself. Curling into the fetal position as closely and the small sofa would allow, his mind wandered back to the kiss he’d all but attacked Harry with earlier.
He was finding it difficult to regret it. He knew it made him sound like a lovesick teenager, but he’d missed Harry. He still missed Harry. He was starting to wonder whether moving to Paris was a coward’s way out. Even so, just because they’d kissed a couple of times, it didn’t mean they were going to try anything. Surely once you’ve been married, been so close to someone, it’s only natural that you’d still feel a connection with them? He couldn’t be the only divorcee who’d ever felt this way, and hadn’t his attacks been better since the divorce? He didn’t know. He could think himself around in circles.
He drifted off into a fitful sleep, not caring that it was only four in the afternoon. He was more than done with the day.
He felt like he’d only been asleep for a few minutes when the floo flared and through his blurry vision he could make out messy dark hair and round glasses.
‘Harry,’ he mumbled, not quite awake and not quite asleep.
‘It’s me,’ Harry said quietly. Draco sensed him kneel in front of Draco on the sofa, but he was too tired to open his eyes again. ‘What are you doing sleeping here, hm? You should’ve gone to bed hours ago.’ He was jostled as Harry lifted him up from the sofa and started carrying him towards his bedroom. Show off. Auror training looked good on him, Draco thought idly as he swayed a little in Harry’s arms. Draco used to laugh at him because he was forever forgetting he was a wizard. Most wizards with Harry’s kind of raw power wouldn’t even hesitate to levitate Draco to his bed, but not Harry. Draco would laugh now but he was far too tired and he was quite enjoying Harry’s warmth.
‘Wha’ time s’it?’ He muttered almost incoherently as Harry put him down gently on the bed.
‘It’s just gone eleven. I would’ve been here to see you sooner, but I got caught up. One of the Aurors got injured on a raid and I had paperwork up to my ears.’ He should’ve sounded annoyed, but Draco could tell even with his eyes closed by the lilt of his voice, Harry was smiling as he said it. He felt him smooth a loose strand of hair away from Draco’s face. He’d been wearing it longer than he used to, and it was just long enough to hang in his eyes if he didn’t style it.
‘S’ok. Didn’t know you were coming.’ Draco yawned.
‘Do you need anything?’ Harry asked him. Draco paused for a second but decided he’d deal with the consequences later.
‘Yellow potion. Bathroom. Middle shelf.’ Harry padded quietly down the hall and Draco unconsciously held his breath.
‘What the hell Draco, there are hundreds of these—you know what, never mind. Now isn’t the time.’ He propped Draco up enough that he could down the potion and Draco flopped boneless back onto the bed. He felt the potion run through him and it almost made him feel a little drunk.
‘Thanks.’ He mumbled. He heard Harry turn to leave and he reached out with an arm that felt too heavy and a bit fuzzy. ‘Stay,’ he said. Harry paused, and Draco didn’t dare try to open his eyes.
‘Maybe another time, yeah?’ He said gently and as Draco drifted back off to sleep, he could’ve sworn he felt Harry press a kiss to his forehead.
The following day was a Friday, and Draco kept his head down at work and tried his best to avoid Harry at all costs. He didn’t want to play with Harry’s emotions any more than he already had done. The only thing getting him through the day was the thought of having Teddy for the weekend.
He figured he’d go to Harry’s to pick Teddy up this time. They’d just about been getting on at work and Draco was starting to feel guilty for the number of times Andromeda had been stuck at home waiting with Teddy while Draco and Harry made a cowardly attempt to co-parent. Draco thought that if Teddy were there, Harry wouldn’t bring up the topic of yesterday’s mishap, so it wouldn’t matter if Draco picked up Teddy from Andromeda’s or the house. Harry’s birthday had taken the edge off and Draco was finally coming to terms with seeing the house without living there anymore.
The case was actually going well. Draco knew it would take him a few weeks to analyse the pills Harry had been given at the clinic. He’d said that Healer Matthews had all but thrown them into his hands and told him they fix almost anything. Draco was certain that these were the pills that had caused the problem, but he’d need to use muggle techniques to analyse their contents and whilst he had some knowledge of the subject, he would have to be much more careful. Muggles didn’t get instantaneous results, so Draco would have to wait a while before he knew exactly what he was dealing with.
Draco knew he was clock watching. Every five minutes felt like some kind of purgatory and he was sure he’d read the same set of results three times and he still had no idea what they meant. He’d sent a couple of the pills down to the labs because apparently there was a muggleborn downstairs who’d had proper muggle lab experience. Draco had to admit he was relieved. It wasn’t that he wasn’t capable of doing it himself, but he’d been in complete turmoil over his behaviour with Harry and he really couldn’t focus on anything.
Thankfully, he’d managed to pass the final two hours of his working day prepping the file to be sent to Macmillan when all the results came through. Although Harry was the lead Auror on the case, the less significant details were being dealt with by Macmillan since Harry already had a lot of other responsibilities. It turned out Draco hadn’t needed to go to such lengths to stay in his office and avoid Harry, as the auror who’d been injured in a raid was Ron, and he hadn’t exactly been following protocol at the time. That meant Harry was more than preoccupied and hadn’t been seen all day. Draco was under the impression Ronald wasn’t really enjoying his role in the auror force, and Draco wouldn’t be surprised if he heard that he’d be leaving soon.
He headed home to get changed before he went to pick up Teddy. Normally Harry fed Teddy before he went to Draco’s since Draco used to work late on a Friday, which no one hated more than him. Ok, Harry probably hated it more, but that wasn’t exactly a surprise.
Draco fumbled around in his wardrobe and pulled out a random white shirt and some jeans. Why was it that all of Draco’s casual clothes were ones Harry had bought him? He must look so pathetic constantly showing up in clothes he wasn’t even capable of buying for himself. He’d grown up always being forced to wear the height of wizarding fashion at all times. He was proud of his heritage, not so much the dark arts, but he was proud of being one of the few remaining descendants of the Black family, and the only remaining descendent of the Malfoy family. Which actually probably didn’t even exist anymore considering he was actually a Potter. Either way, casual clothing had never been his strong suit. It worked well really; Harry bought him casual muggle clothes, and Draco bought Harry formal wizard robes. It was a great system.
He was nervous as he got ready to go to Harry’s. He knew now he was able to apparate in and out, but it didn’t feel quite right to do so. It wasn’t his home anymore and his mother always told him it was rude to apparate into other people’s homes.
