sports life
For the time being, Draco and Remus sat in the library, basking in the calm atmosphere. After getting the chocolate, the teenager set it aside, anyway, likely considering his meal finished. However, Remus pushed the plate of vegetables towards him in response.
At first, Draco made a face, but a simple raised eyebrow from the man was enough to make him reach for a pepper slice. He nibbled on it contemplatively.
His hands itched to take out his phone and send at least a quick " I'm safe " message to his friends. That would suffice; however, he was still too hesitant to do so, not wanting to risk losing his only means of contact with the outside world in case he had misread the situation. It also felt impolite, even though Lupin had suggested it himself in the first place.
So instead, Draco opted to reach for a slice of cucumber this time, as it turned out, he was indeed hungry. His stomach demanded more food now that it’s got reminded of the fact that his body needed the nutrients to function properly.
He slowly chewed, pretending to still ponder the idea, even as his mind simply just screamed. He needed to carefully consider and plan what he would do next, still unsure of his place.
Meanwhile, Remus pretended to read a book, still humming to himself.
In reality, he kept a close watch on the blond, noticing the boy becoming increasingly even more guarded. The only positive was that Draco's hand still occasionally reached for the plate, even if absently, and he slowly began munching on the vegetables; that was progress.
Once Remus finished his own bowl of soup, he closed the book and stood up, his movements a bit strained. His bones weren’t necceserily too great at handling themselves properly, ever since he could remember, resulting in irritating chronic pains and aches.
Draco looked up at him abruptly, even though the profesor was sure his movements were slower than a sloth's. The blond's fingers were now picking at his lips, no longer focused on eating, which prompted Remus to hand him one of the fruit pouches without a second thought.
Draco reached for the pouch almost involuntarily, his steely eyes never leaving the older man. Remus, in turn, simply shifted his attention to their empty bowls.
"I'll go put the dishes away and be back in a moment," he said softly, not missing how Draco's hand instantly began fidgeting with the fruit pouch instead. "Feel free to choose a book or text your friends - I don't want you to die of boredom." Lupin smiled and left, though opening the door with his elbow took a bit of effort. Draco didn't offer to help, though, lacking both the courage and desire to do so.
Honestly, fuck being polite; that trait in the man was clearly too strong, as he had left on purpose, just to, god forbid, not make Draco uncomfortable by accident.
Draco huffed. Damn Lupin and his attentiveness in picking up on others' discomfort.
Once alone, the blond allowed his leg to bounce nervously. It took him a few minutes to calm his nerves enough to replace the fruit pouch with his phone. Another moments passed as his fingers hovered over the group chat, before hastily sending a message:
" I'm alive, you idiots, don't worry “
(That was his own way of expressing care, and his friends would surely appreciate the touch of normalcy.)
He then quickly turned off his phone and buried it deep in his pocket, pretending as if nothing happened.
Apparently, he chosen just the perfect moment because closely enough Lupin returned, spooking the teenager by knocking on the door to a room that belonged to him nonetheless.
"Oświeci Cię myśl jak pochodnia," the man quietly sang to himself, perfectly in sync with the record player, as if he had been in the room the entire time. "Że dni to konfetti dla ognia."
Draco glanced up at him nervously, his hands sweating and his expression that of a guilty child who had just been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to do. That was how he always felt - like an intruder awaiting his verdict.
However, Lupin didn't seem to mind. He simply bopped his head to the beat, drawling out the words of the song.
The tune was momentarily muffled by Draco's phone buzzing with an incoming call.
Thank goodness he always kept it on silent, though he had failed to set the do not disturb mode ( fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck ).
With hasty movements, he pulled it out, clicking every possible button at once just to make it shut up.
The one and only time it had rung while he and father were dining, the device had ended up smashed against the wall. That was why he rarely took it out of his room these days, anyway, so why now, why now, why now.
"I can step out again if you want to take it," Lupin spoke up calmly, earning him a wide-eyed frown from the teenager.
"I don't mind," the professor added.
Draco was just about to shake his head, assure him that it wouldn’t happen again, he wouldn’t—
But then his phone rang once more, damn it.
Lupin looked at him with an arched brow, and Draco made up his mind. He rejected the call and quickly sent another message to the group chat: " can’t speak now " and " don’t call ".
That was a signal they all knew well enough, which meant promptly what it said; shut up if you want to see me still breathing tommorow.
Whether it came from him or Theo, they all understood to instantly pretend the others didn't exist. Even if those moments could be absolutely terrifying.
"I mean it," Lupin spoke up softly again, settling back in his chair. "As long as it's what you want, I'll be glad to see you reconnecting with them too. And you're free to leave if that would make you more comfortable. That's my top priority."
Lupin was unbearably ridiculous and so, so confusing.
Draco's face flushed again as he pathetically fiddled with his phone, till the man encouragingly nodded at him once more. Only then the blond allowed himself to get showered by frantic messages again.
Remus returned his attention to his book, giving the boy at least a bit of privacy to contact the other teenagers in peace. Yet he continued to observe as Draco's posture gradually became less tense, even if the boy seemed to be deliberately avoiding leaning back into the sofa, maybe due to ingrained manners or some sort of pain. Texting one-handed didn't appear to give him any trouble, fortunately, though the blond seemed equally content just reading the incoming notifications.
He would glance upwards from time to time, initially still a bit nervous, but eventually a silent gratitude mixed with relief shone in his brightening eyes.
Remus smiled at him, and Draco's lips twitched in response.
Once Draco stopped picking at his nails after every message he sent, Remus allowed himself to get lost in the book and the music fully.
Draco had to physically restrain himself from tapping his feet to the beat as well. ( And he definitely wasn't smiling! )
That was, until the record player's otherwise soft tune was interrupted by what could only be described as a demonic screeching, coming from outside through the ajar window.
"Ah," Remus glanced up from his book, sighing idly. "That must be Harry," he said flatly.
Draco's head snapped up at that, and the comfortable atmosphere in the room suddenly shattered.
Cramped on the back seat between Ron on one side of himself and a pile of really random shit on the other, Harry could somehow feel the smell of sweat and his aching joints a lot more than he would probably prefer.
Still, he was grateful whenever Ron offered him a ride home after practice, and today was no different.
"You alright?" Ron huffed, glancing over as he struggled with the manual lever to crank open the car window.
Harry sighed. “Yeah, ‘m fine, mate,”
Practice had been pure hell, leaving him feeling as if he'd at least got dragged along the pavement they rode on. Fred’s driving felt that way anyway, though, making Harry feel like they might fall off the road at any given moment.
Ron cursed loudly in frustration before giving up on the window and slumping back into his seat, which appeared to be missing a chunk, with a loud huf.
"Hey, watch the language, Ronnie," George called out from the front, leaning over to peer back at them in the rearview mirror.
"Oi, sod off," Fred swatted his twin away, thank god, the rickety car rattling and shaking beneath them.
"Yeah, fuck you," Ron retorted, earning another huff from George, yet who quickly became engrossed in the music blasting from the speakers - a song only he and Fred seemed to enjoy.
Harry snorted, but his best friend’s attention was quickly back on him, clearly eager to continue the interrogation.
“It’s about that wanker, huh?”
Harry opened his mouth to respond, yet Fred beat him to it.
"Who?" He called out from the driver's seat, daring to spare them a glance with a smirk.
"No one's talking to you!" Ron snapped defensively, to which Fred simply rolled his eyes ( nearly causing them to swerve and hit a trash can on the sidewalk ).
“I mean, it’s not like he can do anything to me, right? Except being annoying, but, bloody hell, I do not want him in my house,” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant toddler, but what more was there to do in that moment?
Everything reminded him of Malfoy the whole day; that’s partly why he opted to stay in school longer, just for the sake of not seeing the blond git’s face.
“Mate, just fuck him. Besides, it’s not like they’ll suddenly change their minds and fall in love with him.” Ron tried to assure, but Harry only fixed him with an unimpressed glare.
"Told you Sirius has been on about him nonstop. He’s got him wrapped around his finger already," Harry muttered, his lips jutting out in a small pout.
Even if Harry much more preferred to pretend that Malfoy didn’t exist and wasn’t just upstairs as they ate dinner the day before, his godfather kept fusing and worrying, as if the snake was made of glass or something like that.
"Lucky git, whoever that is," George mused, prompting a loud groan from Harry.
"Could you please stop hitting on Sirius?"
"Uh-uh, he wouldn’t want you anyway, buddy. He’s got Prof Lupin, and he’s a hundred percent better than you," Fred said, giving his twin a good-natured pat on the shoulder.
George playfully punched his brother’s arm, making the whole car sway dangerously. Harry eyed the piles of junk and discarded clothing around him, praying nothing would come crashing down on his head.
It must have been that Fred was doing it on purpose, because no one sane would give a driving license to someone who drove like that. Even the trips with Sirius on his motorcycle, which Remus strongly disapproved of, weren’t as bad!
"You both are weirdos," Ron muttered, dragging a hand down his face.
"I'm filing a restraining order against you," Harry shuddered in disgust. "Just drop me off here - there's no way I'm letting you anywhere near my house."
The older boys whined and laughed, before launching into an unbearably screechy rendition of the song which was currently playing, as if it wasn’t bad enough already.
As overwhelming and irritating as they could be, though, Harry couldn't help but crack a smile. Even if Ron wasn’t equally fond of it, perhaps already gone crazy after spending his whole life with them, mouthed the words silently.
After a few more minutes, the car came to an abrupt, screeching halt.
"Hey, Harry, isn't that your house?" George asked in mock surprise, his face practically glued to the window.
Harry blinked and, sure enough, they had arrived at Grimmauld.
"Yes, it is, but you're not setting foot out of this car," he sighed, ushering Ron to move so they could both get out.
"Aw, man," the twins whined as Ron grabbed the door handle, only to find it locked. When Fred finally deigned to let them out, Harry scrambled out after his best friend, realizing just how loud the music had been blaring.
Ron walked around to retrieve his backpack and sports bag from the trunk, slamming it shut a bit harder than necessary.
"Y’know mum wouldn’t mind if you slept over for the time bein’?" The ginger asked.
Harry scoffed. "So, like, forever?" He took his belongings from the other teenager. "Thanks, mate."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh c’mon, they’re going to get enough of him sooner or later, when they get to really know him. Even daddy dearest got tired of him, huh?"
Harry shot him a glare.
"Don't say that," he muttered, adjusting his glasses.
Despite everything, he wouldn't wish that situation on even his worst enemy ( which Malfoy theoretically was ) - being bounced around the foster system, treated like a bargain rather than a child, failed by those who were supposed to care.
Ron shrugged. "Whatever you say, dude. Good luck, then."
With a final pat on Harry's shoulder, the teenager turned and tried to get back in the car, only to find it locked again. Harry snorted as his friend finally managed to climb in, the twins bidding their farewells before speeding off, likely earning themselves a speeding ticket.
Harry sighed, running a hand through his sweaty hair. He was in a desperate need for a shower, but the thought of going inside made his body burn with desperate envy.
He recognized this feeling now, thanks to the few years of therapy. It was a painful ache he'd known since childhood, the same feeling that stabbed him, while watching Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon shower Dudley with pure affection and love; something Harry wished to have, eavesdropping from underneath the stairs.
Now, he finally found it in the best and closest people he had to parents; Remus and Sirius were irreplaceable, they were his family, they were his.
The awful feeling came back, burning.
Despite knowing Malfoy didn't deserve the abuse he'd endured, of course, Harry couldn't help the bitterness that welled up.
Why did that spoiled brat so easily gain the one and only thing Harry held most dear?
It wasn't fair.
To this day, Malfoy got everything he ever demanded, while Harry could only wish for that kind of unconditional acceptance for most of his life. Even after all these years, that gnawing for something of his own still lingered.
As much as he tried, he couldn't shake the envy he felt towards the blond. It burned within him. Because Malfoy seemed to have been gifted things without ever truly appreciating them.
With a pout on his lips, the teenager stomped into the house, messily kicking off his shoes as he looked around for someone who could just make his head shut up.
He easily found his godfather sitting at the kitchen table, his dinner nearly finished. Harry was relieved not to see Malfoy anywhere, but Remus was also absent, which could only mean one thing.
"Hey, Prongslet," Sirius greeted with a smile, glancing up from his phone. Harry just groaned in response. "Woah, okay. What's up?"
The teenager didn't answer, instead throwing his belongings aside and plopping down across from the man, sulking.
Sirius raised an eyebrow, prompting Harry to speak. "Hm?"
Harry's face only scrunched up further, and he propped his elbow on the table, resting his head in his hand.
Teenagers, Sirius thought, and seeing that he wouldn't get an answer from his godson, stood up with a gentle sigh. He grabbed a bowl of soup meant for Harry and walked over to the microwave.
As he busied himself without a word, which was unusual for him, the teenager's expression softened slightly.
"...Where's Remus?" He asked grumpily.
"Ah, so that's what's bothering you," Sirius huffed, leaning against the counter. "He's upstairs checking on Draco."
Harry let out a loud groan. "Draco," he spat venomously. "Of course Remus’ playing babysitter to him."
"Hey," Sirius said, a mere warning, though there was no real bite behind it.
“You know that git couldn’t care less about him, right?” Harry asked, because Remus was good, and kind, and his. Malfoy surely wouldn’t appreciate him enough.
Sirius sighed, tossing his hair back. "Cub, we’ve been through this before. I know you and Draco have a... complicated history, but he's been through a lot. Try to have a little empathy, yeah?”
"Empathy? Are you serious?" Harry scoffed.
Sirius gave him a deadpan look, to which his godson shook his head with another groan.
"He's just a prat. And now he's just waltzing in here, expecting us to take care of him?"
"He's not expecting anything," his godfather said calmly. "He's been through," he licked his lips, "a lot, you know that. The least we can do is try to make him feel welcome."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Welcome? Why should we make him feel welcome? He sure as hell never made me feel welcome at school..."
Before Sirius could respond, the microwave beeped, and he took out the meal, setting it in front of Harry and reclaiming his own seat.
The teenager immediately began picking at the soup with his spoon, drawing another sigh from his godfather.
"Alright, then. How was school today?" Sirius asked, hoping to change the subject and ease the tension.
Normally, brightening his godson's mood came as easily to him as the sun. Yet in that moment, Sirius felt miserable and utterly exhausted himself.
"It sucked," Harry mumbled, offering nothing more.
Sirius clicked his tongue. "And practice?"
"Sucked," was the only response.
That was true.
Normally, football was his escape. When he was on the field, he could completely clear his head, feel the wind in his hair, and just get lost in the game.
However, today, he had managed to mess it up and couldn't seem to focus on what he was doing.
The season was coming to an end, so all of his teammates, along with Coach Hooch, were extremely focused. Well, maybe with the exception of Harry and one Blaise Zabini, who had managed to lose the ball even more times than Harry. At least the coach's wrath wasn't completely directed at him, then.
Zabini seemed distracted the whole practice, glancing at the irritating onlookers - Nott and Parkinson - even more often than usual. Their coach normally allowed such students to sit in the bleachers and watch, but the last straw seemed to be when those two started screaming, causing Zabini to lose count of the team drills they were doing.
Harry was relieved when Ms. Hooch shooed the pair away and finally pulled his teammate aside. But their hushed yells were definitely about one and only Draco Malfoy, which only served to rile the brunette up further.
Harry wasn't fond of the fact that when Zabini returned, he was all smiles, simply collected his water bottle, and left as quickly as he had come. Even their coach didn't look angry anymore.
Don't get Harry wrong, Zabini wasn't a particularly bad guy - in fact, he was probably the best of his group of friends, actually. Yet the team couldn't afford for him to be distracted at the most important time of the season, damn it!
And just as they left, Coach Hooch was on Harry again, along with his teammates, and the thought that even bloody Malfoy would probably play better than him, even if just after coming out of the hospital, only added to his frustration.
"Okay, this is about Draco," Sirius stated, because as always, it seemed as if he could read his godson's mind.
"Yes, because he's - ugh," Harry groaned, crossing his arms over his chest again.
"He's what, exactly?" Sirius probed.
Harry didn't respond, stubbornly turning his head away.
Sirius took a deep breath. This was Harry, not Draco, not James or anyone else. He knew how to interact with the boy without becoming a bundle of nerves like he did with the other teenager, and actually taking the role a stable adult he could rely on. He just needed to put that knowledge into practice.
"Alright," Sirius said softly, nodding to himself. "I'm listening, Bambi. Whenever you're ready."
Even though he wanted to bombard the brunette with questions, he refrained. It was Harry's choice to open up.
The teenager looked at him reluctantly, his green eyes burning with anger. But Sirius remained patient, waiting.
"I don't-," Harry started, then shook his head with a sigh. "It's stupid. Nevermind."
"I'm sure it isn't. You know the kinds of things I worry about, right? Nothing could be more ridiculous than that. I'm sure we'll manage whatever's on your mind," Sirius chuckled, and even Harry's expression softened.
"Yeah, yeah," the boy sighed, reluctantly taking a sip of soup. "It's just... I don't know. I was having a rough day at school, and now I have to deal with this too."
Sirius hummed.
Harry hesitated for a moment, then blurted out,
"I'm worried that if Malfoy moves in for good, you and Remus won't love me as much anymore, okay?"
There, he said it.
Because, why wouldn't they?
Malfoy was now a poor, vulnerable boy in their eyes. When Harry had seen him the day before, the other teenager had looked lifeless, as if the hospital had drained the life from him, indeed.
And Harry knew what that was like.
He too had been neglected and abused by the Dursleys. He could still recall the sting of Aunt Petunia's wooden spoon against his bottom when her temper flared, or the searing pain of Uncle Vernon's belt lashing against his back when his anger reached a boiling point.
Most of the time, though, they had simply ignored him. As long as he did his chores and stayed in his room when told, he was fine. It had left him a bit scratched from the flower beds he was ordered to weed, or burned from the stove he was just learning to use, or skinny as a twig, like the doctors observed when they first had a look at him.
But he had healed. His ribs stopped sticking out, he got used to sleeping in a normal bed, not having a dozen of chores and simply enjoying his free time, without flinching whenever someone passed by. Sirius and Remus made sure of that, these golden two.
That’s why they will surely pay more attention to Malfoy now, yeah? Harry wasn’t needed there anymore.
He turned his gaze away, while Sirius was momentarily astonished.
He was so, so proud of his kid, of the progress Harry had made, that he was no longer afraid to speak up about what was bothering him.
Though hearing it voiced aloud hurt.
"Harry, listen to me," Sirius said, his voice soft but firm.
"You could never, ever, be replaced in our family. You are ours, and that's final. Draco isn't here to take your place, he's here because he needs us, just like you did all those years ago.” he took a deep breath. “He's going through a difficult time, and he needs our support, but that doesn't mean you're any less important to us. Just because that's a different type of needing, doesn't mean you'll magically stop mattering, yeah?"
Harry looked at him, uncertain. Sirius reached across the table to squeeze his hand.
"But what if I do?" Harry asked quietly, intertwining their fingers.
"Harry," Sirius started again. "We both love you dearly. And I've told you before, our attention will be split now, but whenever you need us, we'll still be there. I know having someone suddenly arrive in your house isn't ideal, and I know how much it sucks at first, and maybe will suck for a while more, but I also know you'll both find your common ground eventually."
The teenager looked back at him, half shrugging, half nodding.
Sirius stood up from the table, walking around it, and before Harry knew it, he was pulled into his chest, his godfather’s embrace warm and strong. He huffed, burying his face in Sirius' shoulder and wrapping his arms around him.
But the envy crept back; the wonder of whether Sirius would, or already had, hugged Malfoy like this.
What if—
"You should certainly start using the showers at school, y’know?" Sirius said, throwing his head back comically, away from the brunette.
Harry rolled his eyes.
Yet he knew that Sirius and Remus wouldn’t leave, even if it would take him a while to get used the prospect of Malfoy staying, too.