Sippin on Polyjuice and Champagne
Draco wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he knew Nott would eventually catch on to his tail. Especially since Draco wasn’t really hiding that he was following Nott.
Draco knew that the Notts had dinner with Ginevra and Blaise that evening – which Draco planned to attend. He hadn’t decided if he was going to disillusion himself or if he was going the Polyjuice route, though.
Potter thought he was being overly paranoid. Nott had been back and forth between Gringotts, his personal solicitor’s office, and the Ministry, multiple times throughout the last week. To Draco, the behavior screamed that he was preparing to run.
His mother’s funeral arrangements were practically finalized at this point, so his visuals to the Department of Magical Afterlife Planning had stopped.
Draco supposed he could have been working, though, upon further review of internal records, Nott had not punched in. He had not even transferred his job over from MACUSA. Draco knew Granger was due back to start working at the Ministry any day now.
It seemed that Nott had been visiting the Department of Mysteries – for what, Draco was unsure.
Draco, back aching, had been hovering in a bush for several hours, just outside of the wards at Nott Manor, waiting for evidence that the Notts would take their leave. Nott, and Grangers, Draco attempted to correct himself. He wasn’t entirely sure about Hermione Granger’s marital status, though, when he looked her up in the Ministry’s records, she was still listed as unmarried — despite Theo alluding to having a wife in the first letter he sent to Draco.
Draco wasn’t entirely sure how he planned to get into the Manor. He thought about calling on one of the Nott house elves. When they were young, the wards had been opened to a friend of Theo’s. Draco knew that he had been able to pass through previously.
He had to assume that the title of friend didn’t apply to him anymore.
Draco wondered if Parkinson would be able to do so without triggering an alarm. He conjured his Patronus and sent it to Pansy with a message: Are you able to pass the Nott wards?
Pansy’s fox replied, Previously, yes. Don’t do anything rash. I’ll be there in an hour.
Draco suddenly realized that he would have no idea what time Nott and the two Grangers would actually leave. They likely wouldn’t apparate, as it would be harder on Hermione and Nott to side along with a three year old. They would need the floo, if the little one was going with them.
Draco sighed, resting against the prickly bush. He tried not to think of all the tiny little pinpricks in his back. He was sure if he looked in a mirror, he would look worse for wear. The bags under his eyes were dark and puffy. Draco couldn’t recall the last time he slept through the night. His hair was lacking its usual shine, refusing to go where it needed to when Draco poked and prodded at it. If Potter was around, there would be
Before long, Pansy was kicking at Draco’s feet. Her dark heeled boots slammed into his shin, jolting him out of his slumber. “Some Auror you are,” Pansy smirked. “Sleeping on the job outside of your mark’s home.” Pansy flicked her hand towards the boundary of the wards. She touched the intangible curtain, her arm passing through easily. She waited for a moment, “Trixie?” Pansy called.
A small house elf dressed in a pink dress appeared. “Mistress Potter?”
“I will never get used to that,” Draco winced, picking himself off the ground. “I’m exhausted, Parkinson. Don’t you know it's quite unwise to wake a sleeping dragon?”
Pansy rolled her eyes. “It’s Potter! Trixie, we are here to see Miss Granger. Do you mind taking us to her drawing room?”
“Mistress is not here,” The house elf said, eyeing the two of them warily. “Master Nott is also not here.”
“We are prepared to wait.” Pansy said, pulling a gift bag out of thin air. “We brought them a gift for the young miss.”
The elf still looked dubious. “Miss Granger told me that Willa didn’t have one of these silk jackets for her daughter when we had tea,” Pansy tried.
“Trixie must ask Gimbly if it is okay for you to wait in the study.”
With a crack, another house elf, also dressed impeccably, appeared. “Trixie summoned?” He asked, his baritone voice surprisingly deep.
“Mistress Potter and Master Malfoy are seeking entrance to Mistress’s study.”
Gimbly turned and bowed deeply to Pansy and Draco. “We must,” Gimbly exclaimed. “These two families are from the most ancient and noble houses. Ancient wizarding families! Master Nott would be highly displeased to find that we asked them to wait outside in the cold for them to return.”
Draco frowned. He had hoped the elf wouldn’t recognize him, at least. Maybe mistake him for Saint Potter, since he was here with Pansy.
Still unconvinced, Trixie led Draco and Pansy into the study. “Tea?” The little elf asked.
“No thank you, Trixie.” Pansy replied, “though, I wonder if you might show me to Master Nott’s washroom. It has been some time since I have been here.”
The little elf looked at Draco dubiously, yet silently led Pansy towards the washroom. Draco took his opportunity to rummage through the desk in the corner, checking the drawers and shook books loose to see if anything would come out.
Nothing.
He wondered if he had time to go anywhere else in the house, but as he had suspected, he had been warded into the study.
Pansy returned a few moments later. “Actually, we will leave this present with you, Trixie. My husband has called me to return home.” She handed the bag to the elf, “Thank you for your help, Trixie. Could you please help us to the floo?”
“Floo? Trixie could not!” The elf exclaimed, “Trixie cannot take you to Master Nott’s bedroom!”
“Is that the only working Floo?” Pansy asked, dropping low to comfort the elf. “Unfortunately, I cannot apparte from the grounds, Trixie. I don’t feel well.”
Trixie wailed, “I should not!” She started to pound on the floor, dropping to the ground. The puddle of tears grew larger by the moment.
“Gimbly?” Pansy called.
The more stable elf returned. “Might you take us to the floo, please? I understand that it is Master Nott’s bedroom floo that works. It would be nothing I haven’t seen before –,”
The elf went pale in the face. Wordlessly, he walked them to the Floo.
Draco looked towards the bed. It was made, the duvet was meticulously adhered to the bed. Draco looked at the bedside table. There was a book. He didn’t even glance at the cover before he wandlessly shrunk it and summoned it. He popped it into his pocket.
Pansy called out Grimmauld Place. Against his better judgement, Draco followed her back to the Potter family residence.
“Where are you going now?” Pansy asked.
“Dinner at the Ned.”
“I love the Ned.” Pansy had a glint in her eye. “I would love to accompany you, since you seem to be struggling with the most basic of Auror tasks today.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “What do you expect me to Polyjuice myself into Potter?” After a moment, he let out a sigh. “I don’t know why I even bother with my hairbrain schemes, I might as well just deputize you.”
Pansy smirked, eyes wild, “Let’s go find some of Harry’s hair.”
Draco choked, “Can I at least have some firewhiskey first? And do you even have a reservation for tonight?”
“I don’t, but it gives me a great reason to put on that new dress.” Pansy conjured a patronus. “Darling, I am going to dinner with Draco. Please keep the children at the Burrow for a few hours more. I would hate for them to get confused when they see double daddy running around town.”
Her fox trotted off, leaving a wispy smoke trail in its wake.
Draco hated the feeling of being Harry Potter. There were no perks to being this short, nor, being the husband of one Pansy Parkinson. Pansy Potter, he supposed.
People smiled at him, stopped him, thanked him for his service in the war. People asked after the children – Draco was lucky he was close enough with the Potters to be in the childrens’ lives and to have real answers to these questions.
Pansy, as usual, was overdressed for the occasion – as all good Slytherins were. Draco, not wanting to deal with Harry’s clothes, transfigured his own robes into a proper suit.
He was terrified for when he might have to go to the washroom - being in Potter's body did not mean he wanted to perceive his body. Draco probably should have gone before he drank the Polyjuice potion. He cursed his lack of hindsight.
Draco needed to sleep, desperately.
The Potters strolled into the restaurant, Pansy, as skillful as ever, had purposefully not used Draco’s Muggle telephone to call and make a reservation. “Zabinis!” She called, stepping gracefully through the crowd of Muggles waiting for seats. “How are you doing?” She said, smiling. “Granger, Little Granger.” She turned to Hermione, who was holding Willa.
From Draco’s vantage, Hermione looked nervously between Pansy and himself. He realized he might be behaving strange to Harry Potter’s best friend.
“Hermione,” Draco said, gruffly.
Hermione stood, handing Willa to Theo, “Harry.” She said, pulling him in for a hug.
Draco’s stomach was tight as he pulled her in, the smell of vanilla overwhelmed him. He held onto her for a moment too long. She shifted uncomfortably, sitting back down. She made no move to take her daughter from Nott, he noticed.
“Join us,” Blaise said, gesturing to the empty space near them. The table next to them had just opened up. Blaise smoothly spoke to the waiter, arranging for the Potters to skip the queue and to sit with them instead. He slipped muggle currency out of his wallet and passed it to the man.
“The Slytherin way,” Theo said casually, “what can a bribe not do?”
Draco forced himself to chuckle, “We Gryffindors have too much honor, right Hermione?”
Hermione raised a brow, “I don’t doubt we would have bribed people during the war if we had the funds to do so.”
"Harry" cast a glance at Theo. One pair of green eyes met another. “What do you reckon the little tyke will be? No doubt a Slytherin, like her father.”
Theo’s eyes narrowed, “She could be a Ravenclaw. Though, I suspect her mother’s genes out-weigh her father’s. She will probably be a Gryffindor.” After a moment, Theo said. “Assuming we let her go to Hogwarts.”
Draco made eye contact with Hermione, “Why wouldn’t she go to Hogwarts?”
“Harry,” Hermione sighed. "I feel like you never listen-,"
The waiter returned with a round of drinks and appetizers, interrupting the conversation. “Can I get you all anything else?”
“A bottle of champagne,” The She-Weasel said. “Six glasses?” Ginny gestured around the table.
“None for me,” Pansy said.
Draco gave her an inquisitive look.
“Darling,” Pansy caressed Draco/Harry’s arm. “Don’t you remember, we are trying for another?”
Nott laughed, “Another? Trying to out-do the Weasley brood?” Nott flushed, “No offence, Ginevra.”
“None taken,” Ginny replied, “that was not the life for me.”
Pansy smiled and winked at Nott, “Trying for another little one of your own, then?”
Theo’s eyes were cool, calculating – no trace of embarrassment on his face. “Magical pregnancies are difficult. I wouldn’t ask Hermione to go through another one, after watching her go through the first. Even though this little thing in my arms is the best reward one could ask for.”
Hermione sipped awkwardly at her cocktail. Draco was surprised by her silence on the matter. He wondered what she was thinking.
After another moment, Hermione said, “I would have another, but I would want to be married.”
Ginny smiled, “I told you it was nice to wear a big fat rock on your hand.”
Hermione ignored her comment, “Really, I would love for Willa to have a sibling. I think she would be happy with one. My childhood was…quite lonely. I loved my parents, they did the best they could. The only thing I can say is that I would wish her to have more love. More company.”
Draco’s stomach dropped. He knew the feeling well. The ever-present wish for a little brother or sister. When Draco was old enough to understand Narcissa nearly died when trying to deliver him, he stopped asking. “I know how lonely it was,” Draco said, glad he was in Potter’s body. He knew from years of getting to know Harry that his childhood upbringing had been similar – though his abuse had been worse than Draco could fathom.
“Hogwarts was lonely for a time, too,” Nott replied. “Though it wouldn’t have been, if Hermione had said yes to me in fourth year.” He winked, lightening the mood.
Draco couldn't hold back the urge to relieve himself any longer - and he would need another dose of Polyjuice before long. He excused himself from the table. When he entered the washroom, he immediately took a sip from the thin leather-coated flask in his trouser pocket. Polyjuice was vile – even when it didn’t have Potter hair in it.
He stepped into a stall to relieve himself, eyes on the ceiling tiles.
"Harry" was washing his hands in the sink when Nott stepped out of the other stall, eyeing him. “Malfoy,” He said, staring at the Malfoy signet ring that was sitting on "Harry's" right hand. Shit. “I don’t know what games you are playing with Potter and his wife, but stay away from Hermione. You’ve been sloppy –is this the kind of Auror that you are? No wonder arrests have been down lately.”
Draco held back a snarl, trying not to confirm to Theo that he was Polyjuiced.
“Potter’s oldest?” Theo mused. Draco saw his eyes change in the mirror, fading into darkness. “Is that your son, too? He has an odd air of Malfoy bastard all over him.”
Draco couldn’t stop himself. His gaze was red, and suddenly the washroom floor was, too. Draco’s fist slammed into Theo’s nose, over and over until Draco was certain he couldn’t breathe. “How dare you insult the House of Malfoy? I will always do the right thing.”
“Tell Hermione that, you bloody coward.” Theo said, spitting through his split lips. “While you watched her get carved up by your looney aunt and then what? Let her go? The worst mistake you ever made was trying to take what was mine – she is mine. ”
Draco shoved Theo back, back pressing into the wall. “She will never be wholly yours.” He whispered. “Hermione Granger belongs to the whole wizarding world. Trapping her away in that manor of yours like your father did to your wild mother will kill her. Besides, if that boy was my son, I wouldn't have been able to father my daughter.” Draco stepped back, preparing to apparate away, “Give the table my sincerest apologies.”
He landed sharply on the grounds of Malfoy Manor, sending a Patronus to Potter – He knows something.
Draco poured himself three fingers worth of firewhiskey and Reverse Polyjuice Potion before stripping, pulling himself directly into bed. He had no evidence that Nott was up to no good, but he would find whatever the wizard was concealing. And he would figure out the reason why he kept antagonizing Draco. He had to. For his daughter’s sake.