Chapter 59
Just stay out of trouble. It should be easy. All the trouble left with the king, so it would take a special kind of talent to dredge up more. Then again, the very talented George, Ginny and Charlie were giving Draco peculiar looks. Everyone else were also staring. Draco shifted his weight and wrapped both his arms across his chest defensively.
Thankfully, it was Percy and Audrey who approached him first. “That looked intense, Draco.” Audrey gently acknowledged. “Are you alright?”
Draco hunched further and shrugged. “It’s nothing,” he tried to brush the question off. Audrey’s forehead furrowed at the brushoff. She was always careful not to show when she was hurt by others. Draco sighed out his frustration and forced himself to say more. “Truly, I’m fine. He was just upset.”
“Upset?” Audrey questioned. Her eyes were still searching Draco for something more.
Draco pursed his lips and looked away, looking for steadier support from Percy. Even the normally stoic Percy looked a bit perplexed. “He didn’t look upset,” Percy directly said.
Draco winced to hear it. The king had been upset, hadn’t he? He’d started off upset. Then Draco got upset. Then, instead of both of them exploding at each other, the king had… been kind. Draco had let him. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. “It’s nothing. It’s fine. He just came over to ask me to keep everyone out of trouble tonight,” Draco insisted.
Audrey didn’t understand what he meant, but Percy grew even more serious than normal at Draco’s words. While Percy understood the need to lay low tonight, he still was stuck on what he’d seen occur. Draco watched Percy’s face contort itself for a moment before settling into a worried expression. Finally he asked, nearly hesitating, “Draco, are you… ‘getting into trouble’?” Draco could almost hear the quotation marks signaling Percy’s attempts at a euphemism.
Draco froze under his scrutiny. He was intensely aware that Percy and Audrey weren’t the only ones watching him. They weren’t the only ones who’d seen whatever his conversation with the king had been. Although, Draco had an idea what it had been. Some glimpse of intimacy they’d only ever shared before in private or when concealed behind masks. It was the fact that Draco liked it that felt like trouble. The fact that Colton could tell, and had left angry. He wanted to tell Percy that, since Colton’s mood may matter, but he didn’t want everyone else to wonder over it. So Draco stood wide eyed waiting for words to come to him that could convincingly dismiss Percy’s question when in reality his heart pounded in his chest.
It was George who saw Draco freeze and came to his rescue. He strolled up to Draco with the same carefree snark he’d used on the king and draped an arm around his friend. “Can’t believe you even asked that, Percy. Draco is the picture of innocence,” he declared.
Draco shrunk in a bit more under the weight of George’s zealousness. “Please tone it down a notch.”
“I will not! We’re two innocent men and I won’t stand for any implication otherwise.”
“Oh god,” Draco said, literally hiding his face behind a hand. “Don’t lump me in with you.”
“Did you really light his room on fire?” It was Ginny asking, suddenly nearly close enough to touch herself. Draco peeked out from behind his hand to see her grinning at her brother.
George was shaking his head, “Of course not. The fire was there, I just gave it a little bump. Purely accidental.”
“Wicked,” Ginny said just as Percy scolded, “That’s so irresponsible.”
Charlie had wandered back over as well. “What were you even doing there?”
“You know, I can’t remember,” George lied with such sincerity, but every family member rolled their eyes in contempt. George adopted another over exaggerated pout. “You see what I put up with, Draco? I don’t have one person who believes in me.” He ignored the jeers, instead patting Draco on the chest twice before releasing him all together to step forward between Draco and everyone else, presumably to snatch the not-yet-empty wine bottle from Charlie and take a direct swig. Everyone’s eyes were on George’s antics.
Except for Draco’s. Draco was looking down at his breast pocket, where George had somehow tucked in a perfectly folded handkerchief. Around him, the siblings were stirring up chaos, but Draco finally felt calm. His breath came easier and his body relaxed. The world might be wild, but he wasn’t in it alone. That gave him confidence beyond what he’d mustered up when he’d had nothing but his pride and a need to prove himself.
“Stop picking fights, George,” you could hear Draco’s smile in his voice, “just for tonight.”
George broke off his squabbles to turn his pout to Draco, but the pout faded fast into a smile to match Draco’s own. A quick sign that he was game for whatever Draco needed. For show, he raised both hands in surrender, “Alright, alright, no trouble,” he groused merrily.
“Seriously?” Ginny pushed. She looked between George and Draco. George only smirked at her. She turned her ire to Draco. “Are you ensorcering him or something?”
Draco scoffed but otherwise didn’t dignify it with an answer. Instead he said, “I’m sure we’re all capable of being responsible adults for exactly one night, if we really commit ourselves.” He stared hard at Ginny as he said it.
She glared in response. “If you think I’m going to do anything to help Harry get engaged to that know it all piece of s-”
“Oh come off it,” Draco interrupted. “A fire didn’t stop them completing the paperwork, I think they’re pretty committed to pulling that off. I’m just asking, as a personal favor, that you not make things any harder than they have to be.”
“Why would I do you a favor?” Ginny snapped right back.
Draco narrowed his gaze at her, making sure to stare long and hard until he made her sweat. When he saw her start to crack he spoke. “Don’t you think you owe me the tiniest favor?”
She scowled through her guilt. “It’s not my fault you and Harry got into a fight in his bed chamber-”
“What were you doing in the king’s bedchamber?”
Everyone froze in place. They had been so caught up in bickering with themselves they hadn’t realized just how much attention everyone else was paying to their conversation or how close everyone had come. They were surrounded. Not just Bill and Fleur, but the giant Hagrid, Molly, and of course, Draco’s own mother, who had just questioned him about his visit to another man’s room.
Draco tried not to flinch and failed miserably. “Oh, it’s not like how it sounds, mother.” His protest only made sure everyone was considering exactly how it sounded.
Narcissa was nearly at Draco’s elbow. Decades of court life had taught her to conceal her thoughts, but still her eyes were pinned on her son. Draco could see her unspoken questions in the tilt of her lips. She wouldn’t give voice to them here. Not in front of everyone else.
Molly had no such qualms. “I hadn’t realized you and Harry were quite so friendly.” She did not sound like she approved.
“Oh, we’re not,” Draco squeaked out.
“Draco was there to help me, mother,” Percy chimed in, loyally.
Ginny obviously knew Percy had lied, but she had a sibling's loyalty when concocting an alibi in front of a parent. “Right, Draco and Percy were there. They were talking about…”
“Accounts,” Percy supplied. Ginny nodded vigorously. Absolutely no one bought it, but Molly couldn’t bring herself to accuse both children of lying. “And they were fighting about… math.”
“Math.” Molly repeated skeptically.
Draco laughed at the absurdity. “I really have no interest in listening to the king and Percy talk math,” he said with enough conviction that the story instantly felt more plausible to everyone. It felt like maybe they’d sold it.
“I don’ know ‘bout yer math figh’, but I though’ Harry seemed to like yeh,” said the giant out of nowhere. Everyone looked at Draco, noticeably not agreeing but also not contradicting Hagrid. Then, all eyes shifted back to the large man, Draco’s with them, because when a crash was coming you simply couldn’t look away. Sure enough, Hagrid continued, “I don’ think he liked tha’ Colton feller. I don’ know why he’s botherin’ ter marry him.”
The silence was not comfortable. Several Weasleys looked at each other, exchanging thoughts by look alone.
It was Fleur who breezily said, “It’s the money, no?” More than one family member winced at hearing it aloud.
Hagrid grunted. “Money’s no’ a good reason ter get married.”
Again, too much silence. Draco’s awkward laugh broke it, uncaring for the attention it would draw. “It’s not much worse than being forced to marry so your godson will be legally recognized.”
Hagrid nodded solemnly. “True. I didn’ vote for tha’.” Draco blinked in surprise, taking another look at the giant in his layers of leather, wondering exactly what vote he had.
“I can’t handle this conversation on an empty stomach,” Charlie cut in, abruptly changing topic. “Who knows where they’re serving dinner?” That was the break everyone had been waiting for. A rambling chorus went up with conflicting ideas of where the food was, with general agreement that they needed to move on and dinner was the way to do it.
Narcissa stepped up closer to Draco, taking his arm to walk with him out of the room. It brought her close enough that she could murmur in his ear. “Are you alright, Draco?”
Draco smiled thinly. “Quite alright.”
She paused a moment, then charged forward. “You and the king…”
“It’s nothing,” Draco insisted.
Draco could feel the tension in his mother’s arm. “It did not look like nothing,” she put words to what Draco wanted to pretend hadn’t happened. Narcissa watched Draco close himself off from her inquiry. She charged ahead again. “Whatever it is, you can’t continue it. Did you see Colton’s face? He could tell, Draco.”
The advice was well meant but it landed brutally. Draco struggled to keep his face passive as he answered. “Nothing is happening, Mother.” His strained voice betrayed his lie.
“Draco,” she chided.
He had to clear his throat so he could call out, “Audrey! Audrey, could you come tell mother about the girls’ lessons? She wanted to know how they were getting on with French.”
Narcissa gripped him tight. Draco didn’t meet her disappointed stare. “Be careful,” she whispered as she kissed Draco’s cheek. Then she allowed herself to be taken away by his flimsy excuse for space.
Draco stopped walking so he fell behind everyone else on their journey to dinner. He heaved in air, feeling unsteady despite his efforts. Everyone could see something had happened, and they wouldn’t let him forget it was true. Draco just didn’t know what it meant. He had no way of knowing, until the king’s vague promise of after.
After what? After Draco spent an evening insisting it was nothing? After Draco’s friends lied on his behalf? After Draco called in every favor he could to deliver on the king’s request to keep things calm and steady? It felt like so easy an ask to deliver on. Something he should be able to do, a part he could play for the greater good of a kingdom that needed his help. Draco shouldn’t be panicking over any piece of this.
The crowd turned a corner, leaving Draco out of sight. He sagged in relief of finally having solitude. He buried his face in both hands and shuddered out a strained gasp of air.
Be careful, his mother had asked. When had he ever been careful? Never, with King Harry. Not when his life was on the line, and not now when his thumping heart felt much more at risk than his life ever had.
The king promised him nothing. No, it was worse. The king promised heartache. He promised payment to a different man to take the king’s hand in marriage. The most King Harry could offer was masquerade romance and frantic, guilty kisses. Draco wanted neither. Not anymore. His heart couldn’t take wondering which friends were real. Not now, when he knew he didn’t have to settle for less than real. He wasn’t alone anymore. He didn’t need to be alone.
Only, it wasn’t Draco imagining things. Everyone who had watched had wondered. Hagrid had put words to their thoughts - the king had acted affectionate. In front of everyone. Draco feared it meant something because he didn’t know what it could mean and he didn’t want to be wrong. He hated his fear, because he didn’t think it even should have mattered. He didn’t need the king to be happy. He didn’t even know if he liked the king, beyond the physical attraction and time spent caring for Teddy.
Draco hated the king’s temper, and how he closed down when he felt vulnerable. He hated how his life had been defined by the king’s justice. He bore the king’s scars on his body, and the deeper scars that came from withstanding cruelty. Draco hated that there were too many moments to count where the king hated him back.
It hurt more how he hated how free the king had acted with him, when King Harry thought Draco didn’t know who he was. It was too close to Draco’s own unfettered anonymity. He hated how hard they both had to work to be free of the baggage holding them down.
Somehow some part of that struggle and yearning had gotten out and everyone had seen it. The king had let everyone see. Colton had seen. Draco still felt Colton’s angry glare. It rattled him.
The wise thing would be to let it go. Draco could still catch up to the crowd, join everyone for dinner. He could make up with his mother, be polite to Molly. He could reassure everyone it truly was nothing. He could wait for whatever came after.
Draco had warned the king, though, how he couldn’t even rein himself in from causing trouble. His feet knew the path before he had to think of it. He knew where they’d be, King Harry was predictable in many ways. It was easy to walk from the yellow room to the Hogsmeade Chamber.
It was just as well Draco had chosen to do so, because it brought him there at just the right time. He heard the door opening with just enough notice to duck to the side and hide, which let him stay out of the way as Colton exited. Draco peaked out from behind a large vase to watch. It let him see Colton’s serene mask fall off to reveal an underlying fury. While he could have been on a trip to the privy or to join everyone for dinner, Colton didn’t turn towards either of those things. He stormed in the opposite direction.
Draco, of course, was drawn to trouble. So he followed.