Love on the Line

Harry sat at the dinner table in Ron and Hermione’s cozy home, the smell of roast chicken and fresh bread filling the air. Ron was piling his plate high, and Hermione was pouring glasses of pumpkin juice for everyone. Harry couldn’t help but feel at home here, surrounded by his best friends and the familiar warmth of their presence.

“So, Harry,” Hermione began, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and concern, “how have those dates been going? Any luck finding someone you click with?”

Harry sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Honestly, Hermione, it’s been pretty awful. Every date feels like a forced interview. I’m starting to think I just hate the whole process.”

Ron chuckled, his mouth full of chicken. “Yeah, mate, it sounds like you’ve had a rough go of it. Maybe Ginny’s matchmaking skills aren’t as great as she thinks.”

Hermione playfully swatted Ron’s arm. “She is trying her best too! It’s not our fault if the girls aren’t a good match. Harry’s just...particular.”

“I wouldn’t say particular,” Harry replied, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Just...not interested in anyone I’ve met so far. It’s like they all have this idea of who I’m supposed to be, and they’re more interested in that than actually getting to know me.”

Ron nodded sympathetically. “I get that. It’s gotta be tough having everyone see you as the ‘Chosen One’ instead of just Harry.”

“Exactly,” Harry said, grateful for Ron’s understanding. “I just want to find someone who sees me for who I am, not who they think I should be.”

Hermione smiled gently. “You will, Harry. It just might take some time.”

Harry gave a small nod, appreciating her optimism even if he didn’t fully share it. They continued to eat, the conversation shifting to lighter topics, and Harry found himself relaxing and enjoying the evening despite the frustrations he’d just expressed.

After dinner, Harry helped Hermione clear the table while Ron entertained their daughter, Rose, with a story about one of their Hogwarts adventures. As he gathered his things to leave, Hermione gave him a quick hug.

“Hang in there, Harry. You’ll find the right person eventually.”

“Thanks, Hermione,” Harry said, smiling. “I appreciate it.”

As Harry walked out into the cool night air, he felt a sudden impulse. He remembered Draco briefly mentioning on Monday morning that he would be at Andromeda’s the whole weekend. The thought of seeing them brought a smile to his face. Maybe surprising them would be just the thing to lift his spirits.

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Early the next morning, Harry arrived at Andromeda’s house with a mission in mind. He wanted to do something special for Draco and Teddy, to repay them for the joy and warmth they had given him. Armed with bags of groceries, he quietly let himself in, determined not to wake anyone. The house was still and silent, the first light of dawn just beginning to filter through the windows.

Harry moved as quietly as possible, setting his bags down on the kitchen counter and unpacking the ingredients. He planned to make a hearty breakfast: pancakes, eggs, bacon, and fresh fruit. As he started to prepare the food, he couldn’t help but feel a warm sense of satisfaction. This was something he could do for them, a small gesture of appreciation.
He was in the middle of whisking pancake batter when he heard a soft sound behind him. He turned quickly, almost dropping the bowl, to find Draco standing in the doorway, looking startled and confused.

“Harry?” Draco’s voice was a mix of surprise and bewilderment. “What are you doing here?”

Harry smiled sheepishly, setting the bowl down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I wanted to surprise you and Teddy with breakfast.”

Draco’s initial confusion melted into a soft smile, though he still looked slightly perplexed. “You’re here... to make us breakfast?”

Harry nodded, feeling a bit awkward under Draco’s gaze. “Yeah. I thought it would be a nice way to start the day. I hope you don’t mind.”

Draco’s expression softened further, and he stepped into the kitchen, his movements still a bit sleepy. He was wearing a t-shirt that looked 10 times his size and his golden locks were mused and unkempt but Harry couldn’t help but notice the way the early morning light highlighted Draco’s delicate features. “I don’t mind at all. It’s just... I wasn’t expecting to find you here at this hour.”

Harry chuckled. “I wanted it to be a surprise. Guess I’m not as quiet as I thought.”

Draco shook his head, a fond smile playing on his lips. “No, it’s a wonderful surprise, Harry. Thank you.”

There was a brief moment of silence, filled only with the sounds of Harry returning to his cooking and Draco watching him. Harry tried to focus on the pancakes, but he kept stealing glances at Draco, marveling at how effortlessly attractive he looked even just out of bed. Then Draco moved closer, standing on his tippy toes to peer over Harry’s shoulder at the batter. “Do you need any help?”

“Sure,” Harry said, grateful for the company. “You can help with the fruit. There’s a bowl of strawberries and blueberries over there that need to be washed.”

Draco nodded and set to work, his movements graceful and precise. As they worked side by side, the kitchen began to fill with the delicious aromas of cooking breakfast. Draco occasionally glanced at Harry, a soft smile lingering on his lips.

“So,” Draco said after a while, his tone light and curious, “what prompted this early morning culinary adventure?”

Harry shrugged, keeping his eyes on the pancakes sizzling in the pan. “I just wanted to do something nice for you and Teddy. You’ve both been so welcoming and kind, and I wanted to show my appreciation.”

Draco’s smile widened, and he gave Harry a warm look. “That’s very sweet of you, Harry. We really appreciate it.”

As they continued to cook, the conversation flowed easily, filled with light teasing and shared laughter. By the time Teddy came stumbling into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes, the table was laden with a feast.

“Wow, Uncle Harry! Did you make all this?” Teddy exclaimed, his eyes wide with delight.

“Yep,” Harry said, ruffling Teddy’s hair. “With a little help from Uncle Draco.”

Teddy beamed and quickly took a seat at the table, eagerly reaching for a pancake. “This is the best breakfast ever!”

Andromeda joined them shortly after, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she took in the scene. “What a lovely surprise, Harry. Thank you.”

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Draco woke up abruptly, the unsettling remnants of a bad dream clinging to his mind. He blinked, disoriented in the soft light of early morning that streamed faintly through the curtains. The guest room at Andromeda’s house was still, the air thick with quiet, but something felt off. He sat up, his head still foggy, and for a moment, he was sure it was just the remnants of the nightmare. But then he heard it—a soft clatter of pans from the kitchen, followed by muffled cursing.

Draco’s brow furrowed as he slipped out of bed, pulling on a robe before quietly making his way down the hall. The noise grew louder, more distinct, and he recognized the voice—Harry Potter’s voice. What in Merlin’s name was he doing?

When Draco reached the kitchen, he stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he took in the sight before him. There was Harry, towering over the counter, his broad back turned as he fumbled with a pan of eggs. His movements were slightly awkward but purposeful, his large hands working clumsily to flip the food.

Harry was no longer the scrawny boy Draco had known at Hogwarts. He was big now—muscular, tall, his presence filling the room in a way that felt... commanding. His broad shoulders strained against the fabric of his shirt, and every movement was a reminder of just how physically powerful he’d become. But there was a softness to him too, in the way his hair fell messily over his forehead, the way he muttered under his breath as he tried—and failed—to get breakfast right.

Draco felt an unexpected pang in his chest, watching Harry struggle with something so simple. Potter, the great war hero, an absolute menace in battle, utterly useless in the kitchen. It was almost endearing—almost. He had to bite back a smile as Harry burned a piece of toast and muttered another curse under his breath, yanking it out of the toaster like it had personally offended him.

Draco stayed still, watching silently. He was supposed to be annoyed, supposed to mock Potter for his ineptitude. But he couldn’t. There was something strangely captivating about seeing Harry like this. The way he stood there, big and manly but so thoroughly out of his element, determined to make something as simple as breakfast for Teddy, Andromeda—and Draco himself.

And that’s what made Draco’s heart twist. This wasn’t just Harry being clumsy in the kitchen. He was trying—trying for them. Trying for Draco.

Draco let out a quiet breath, leaning a little more against the doorway as he took it all in. Harry was humming to himself now, low and soft, oblivious to the fact that Draco was standing there. Draco’s eyes trailed down Harry’s frame—the solid line of his back, the broadness of his shoulders, the powerful arms that were now holding a spatula with far too much intensity for something as mundane as eggs.

How could someone be so... infuriatingly attractive without even realizing it?

Draco hated it. Hated the way his heart raced a little faster every time he was near Harry, hated how his mind kept drifting back to moments like this—moments where Harry wasn’t doing anything heroic or impressive but was just... being himself. It was dangerous, the way Harry had slipped under his skin, the way he was making Draco question everything he thought he knew.

He closed his eyes for a moment, steadying himself. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything for Potter, let alone this strange mix of admiration, frustration, and something dangerously close to affection.

When he opened his eyes again, Harry was still muttering to himself, now poking at some bacon sizzling in a pan. The smell filled the kitchen, but Draco barely noticed. All he could focus on was the man in front of him—this ridiculous, overgrown Gryffindor who had somehow managed to become more than just an annoyance.

Harry turned suddenly, clearly not expecting anyone to be awake, and nearly jumped when he saw Draco standing in the doorway. His eyes widened, surprise flashing across his face before he quickly tried to play it off with an awkward laugh.

“Harry? What are you doing here?” Draco said, trying to break the awkward silence.

“Uh… Sorry,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck, clearly flustered. His voice was low, rough from sleep, and Draco couldn’t help but notice how it suited him. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I wanted to surprise you and Teddy with breakfast.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, pushing off the door frame and walking further into the kitchen. His eyes never left Harry’s face, but his expression was unreadable. He didn’t trust himself to speak just yet, not when his mind was so filled with conflicting emotions.

“You’re here... to make us breakfast” he finally murmured, his voice softer than usual, lacking its typical sharpness. He couldn’t bring himself to mock Harry, not when he was standing there looking so utterly sincere, so... hopeful.

Harry blinked at him, clearly thrown off by the lack of sarcasm, and Draco had to turn away before his resolve completely crumbled. He moved to the table, glancing over the mess of burnt toast, slightly undercooked eggs, and lopsided bacon. It was a disaster, but somehow, Draco couldn’t bring himself to care.

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Later that afternoon, Draco found himself needing to go into town for groceries, a task he wasn’t particularly fond of, but one that had to be done. He stood by the door, adjusting the sleeves of his long, flowy shirt, his pale, slender fingers pulling at the soft fabric. His hair, silver-blond, fell in gentle waves, slightly tousled from the day. He had an ethereal quality about him, almost delicate in the way he moved, though there was always that underlying edge of sharpness. Pretty, almost too pretty for someone like him, Draco thought with a sigh.

“Mind if I come with you?” Harry asked, leaning against the wall with a casualness that Draco found both irritating and endearing.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “You’re offering to help me shop for groceries, Potter? Since when are you a domestic type?”

Harry grinned, tugging on his jacket. “Since I decided you’d probably buy all the wrong things.”

Draco huffed, trying to suppress the slight amusement that threatened to show. “Fine. Just don’t touch anything.”

As they arrived at the grocery store, Draco found himself wandering down the aisles with Harry trailing close behind. He could feel Harry’s presence as they moved together, close but not quite touching, and something about it felt strangely comforting.

At one point, Harry veered off, insisting he’d grab the milk they needed while Draco stayed by the produce section. Alone for a moment, Draco scanned the vegetables, his fingers trailing over a few of the fresh herbs when he sensed someone approaching. A man, tall and overly confident, sidled up to him with an easy smile.

“Hey there,” the guy said, eyes glinting as he looked Draco up and down. “You look a little lost—need help finding anything?”

Draco raised an eyebrow, immediately aware of the flirtatious tone. The man was clearly admiring him—his delicate frame, the way his clothes flowed effortlessly, and the soft features that often garnered attention. Draco might have been flattered, but instead, a flicker of annoyance rose within him.

“I’m fine,” Draco replied curtly, not bothering to look at the man again. He hated this. The way people thought they could just approach him like this, mistaking his appearance for fragility, for weakness.

But the man didn’t take the hint. He leaned in slightly, smiling even wider. “Are you sure? Someone as gorgeous as you shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

Before Draco could respond, he saw Harry walking back, the carton of milk in one hand, his eyes narrowing the second he noticed the stranger standing too close to Draco.
Harry’s jaw tightened, and something inside him flared—something possessive, something protective. Without thinking twice, he strode over and smoothly slid an arm around Draco’s waist, pulling him in close. Draco stiffened for a second, shocked by the sudden contact, but Harry was already playing the part.

“Hey, babe,” Harry said casually, turning to the man with a falsely sweet smile. “Sorry I left you for a second. You alright?”

The stranger blinked, confusion and disappointment flickering across his face as he glanced between Draco and Harry. “Oh, uh... sorry, man, I didn’t realize—”

“No harm done,” Harry said quickly, tightening his hold on Draco just slightly. “But we’re kind of in a rush, so…”

The man took the hint this time, muttering an awkward apology before walking off, leaving Draco and Harry standing there, still pressed together. Draco felt the warmth of Harry’s arm around him, the solid weight of Harry’s body beside his more slender frame, and for a moment, all he could do was stare at him.

When the man was out of earshot, Draco pulled away slightly, glancing up at Harry with a sharp look.

“What the hell was that, Potter?” Draco hissed, though there was a touch of amusement in his eyes. “Did you just pretend we’re a couple?”

Harry flushed slightly but tried to keep his composure. “Well, he was flirting with you. I had to do something.”

Draco rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Jealous, were you?”

Harry cleared his throat, avoiding Draco’s gaze as he put the milk in the cart. “I wouldn’t say jealous. Just... protective.”

“Right.” Draco shook his head, turning back to the vegetables. “Protective. Sure.”

For the remainder of the shopping trip, Harry found himself lingering closer to Draco than before, his actions subtle but undeniably more physical. It wasn’t that he was thinking about it—at least not consciously—but something had shifted after the interaction with the stranger. That possessive flicker he’d felt earlier hadn’t quite dimmed, and now, every time Draco reached for something or turned down an aisle, Harry seemed to be right there, closer than necessary.

Draco, for his part, noticed the change almost immediately. Harry’s hand would brush his shoulder or graze his back as they walked through the store, a light, casual touch that didn’t seem accidental. At first, Draco didn’t comment, though he felt a strange warmth building in his chest every time Harry’s fingers ghosted over him. It was a strange dynamic—one he wasn’t sure how to react to, but he didn’t pull away either.

As they turned down the snack aisle, Harry reached around Draco to grab something off a high shelf, his chest pressing against Draco’s back for just a second longer than needed. Draco froze for a moment, his breath catching slightly as he felt the solid warmth of Harry behind him. Harry didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he did, but he acted like nothing was unusual as he casually dropped the item into the cart.

“So, anything else we need?” Harry asked, his voice light, though there was a tension in the air that hadn’t been there before.

Draco blinked, trying to pull himself together. “No, I think that’s it,” he replied, his voice a little quieter than usual.

They moved on, but the small, almost intimate touches didn’t stop. When they passed through the crowded checkout area, Harry’s hand found the small of Draco’s back, guiding him forward, and Draco swore he felt a shiver run down his spine. He glanced up at Harry, but Harry just smiled down at him, casual as ever, like he hadn’t just sent Draco’s pulse racing.

As they left the store, bags in hand, Harry walked even closer than before, their shoulders brushing with every step. Draco found himself acutely aware of Harry’s presence—his size, his strength, the way his movements were so effortless but somehow protective at the same time. It was... unnerving in a way that Draco wasn’t used to, and yet, he didn’t mind.

“You’ve been oddly... touchy today,” Draco finally commented as they walked back to the car, trying to sound indifferent, though his voice wavered slightly.
Harry looked at him, and for a moment, Draco thought he might deny it or brush it off with a laugh. But instead, Harry just shrugged, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes.
“Just looking out for you,” he said simply, his voice softer than usual.

Draco didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. Instead, he just nodded and kept walking, his heart beating a little faster than before.

As they reached the car, Draco felt an unusual tension settle between them. Harry opened the trunk and started packing the bags, his movements slower, as if he were giving Draco a chance to speak. But Draco remained silent, unsure of what to say, though the weight of the earlier moments hung between them.

Once the bags were in and they were settled into the car, Draco could still feel the phantom touches lingering on his skin. Harry’s earlier statement—“just looking out for you”—echoed in his mind, confusing him, sending a warm rush through him that he couldn’t quite explain. Why was Harry being like this? Was it just the aftermath of seeing someone flirt with him? Or was there more to it?

Harry seemed focused as he drove, one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily on the armrest. The streets passed by in a blur, and Draco found his eyes wandering to Harry’s hands—the same ones that had brushed against his back, his shoulder. He hated the way his pulse quickened, the way his thoughts kept circling back to the Auror beside him. Why was Harry affecting him so much today? And why did it feel like something had shifted between them?

Draco glanced out of the window, trying to steady his thoughts. But Harry’s voice broke the silence.

“Do you, uh... mind what happened earlier? The guy at the store, I mean.” Harry’s voice was low, casual, but Draco detected a hint of something underneath. Jealousy? No, that didn’t make sense. Why would Harry be jealous?

Draco bit his lip, turning his head slightly. “Mind? No. Why should I?” he said, trying to keep his tone light.

Harry’s grip tightened slightly on the wheel. “Just checking.”

Draco watched him for a moment, studying the way Harry’s jaw tensed, the way his brows knitted in thought. He wasn’t used to seeing Harry so... guarded.

“And you? Did it bother you?” Draco asked, his voice softer now, curiosity lacing his words.

Harry hesitated. “I didn’t like it,” he finally admitted, his voice quieter. “I guess it just... got to me.”

Draco’s heart skipped a beat at Harry’s admission, and he tried to keep his voice steady. “Got to you how?”

Harry glanced at him, his eyes flicking away almost immediately as if he hadn’t meant to look. “I don’t know,” he muttered, shifting in his seat. “It just did.”

Draco didn’t know how to respond. The air between them had shifted yet again, growing heavier with unspoken words and tension neither of them seemed ready to face.
When they finally pulled into Andromeda’s driveway, Harry turned off the engine but didn’t move to get out. Draco didn’t either. For a moment, they just sat there, the silence hanging between them, both waiting for the other to break it.

Harry finally sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, Draco, I—"

Before he could finish, Teddy burst out of the house, calling out to them with excitement. The tension between them snapped in an instant, and Harry was out of the car, his face softening as he scooped Teddy up into a playful hug. Draco watched from the side, feeling a strange mixture of relief and frustration.

As they made their way inside, Draco couldn’t help but glance at Harry again, the earlier tension still simmering under the surface. He couldn’t deny the way his heart beat faster around him, the way every casual touch left him more confused than before.

And now, as they sat around the dinner table with Teddy and Andromeda, Draco found his mind wandering back to the store—to Harry’s protective touches, to the way he’d pretended to be Draco’s boyfriend without a second thought. And Draco wasn’t sure if it was the warmth of the house or the lingering feeling of Harry’s presence beside him, but for the first time, Draco let himself wonder—did Harry feel the same pull between them?