Chapter 13
The doorbell rang whilst Draco had his head in the oven, checking his vegetables. He sighed in frustration and went to straighten up when he heard Harry shout “I’ll get it!” and the patter of socked feet over his old wooden floors.
“Hello?” he heard Maryam’s confused voice. She had never seen anyone else in his house before.
“You must be Maryam. I’m Harry, a friend of Draco’s.” came Harry’s voice, formal and polite in a way Draco had never heard before. It really made him sound like an adult, even though they both barely counted as adults in their early twenties.
“Oh, what a lovely surprise. It’s lovely to meet you, Harry. Say hello, Zara.” Maryam’s gentle voice came in return, and Draco heard them enter the kitchen. He shut the oven and re-adjusted his timer before turning and giving Maryam and Zara a hug.
“Hey Zara, I think Scorp is playing up in his room if you want to join him? Would you like some juice to take up?” Draco asked, crouching down to her level and smiling when she nodded so hard her curls bounced. He poured two cups with juice and sent her upstairs, before preparing a drink for Zara.
“Right, well. Introductions. Maryam, this is Harry, the doctor I went to school with who I told you about. Harry, this is Maryam, my best friend and my rock.” Draco felt distinctly uncomfortable standing in between them. He had told Maryam in the vaguest terms about his animosity with Harry, so she knew they had a past, and Harry didn’t know she knew. Then his oven timer went off and he didn’t have time to panic about it, instead turning back to his dinner.
He called the children down to eat, and the five of them passed a pleasant, if slightly awkward, dinner. Maryam didn’t even hint at knowing the past between Draco and Harry, but Draco could feel it underlying everything, as well as the new… tension that was growing between them, fuelled by their knees knocking under the table; their hands brushing as they both reached for the salt.
At the end of dinner, Draco tasked Harry with occupying the children whilst he and Maryam tidied up.
“What a handsome man you’ve found for yourself there, Draco.” Maryam teased, up to her elbows in soap suds.
“You’re getting ahead of yourself, love.” Draco responded dryly, passing her plates. “I don’t even know if we’re friends, I mean. We’ve only been on civil terms these past few months.”
“I can see the way he looks at you when you speak, Drake. It's like you hung the moon. I think he seems lovely.”
Draco could feel himself blushing, both at the implication that Harry was looking at him but also in Maryam’s blessing. She had become like a mother as well as a best friend to him, and to hear her approve of Harry affected Draco deeper than he expected it too. He nudged her shoulder affectionately and she laughed, and they finished up cleaning chatting about their children.
****
Harry sat on Draco’s sofa and listened to Draco say goodbye to his friend and her daughter. Dinner had been- incredible. Harry had never known that Draco could cook, and the food had been mind-blowing. Seeing Draco interact with the children had affected Harry in ways he didn’t even want to think about, and seeing his easy affection with Maryam had warmed something inside Harry that he hadn’t even known had gone cold since Ginny.
Draco was- stunning, and kind, and funny, and serious and polite and amazing and so utterly unavailable. After the night before Harry had hoped for- he wasn’t sure, casual touches, longing looks. Instead, he had just stared at Draco like a love sick puppy all evening, desperately trying to get closer, to stand in his way, just to feel a brush of his body heat and Draco had studiously avoided that happening all evening.
“Right then.” Draco said from the doorway, surprising Harry, who hadn’t even heard him approach.
“Please tell me you have sorted out a mindhealer for my son so I can bathe in peace again.”
Harry tried- and failed- not to imagine Draco in the bath whilst he fished in his pockets for the parchment on which he’d written down everything he needed.
“Right. Her name is Imogen, and she’s the kindest woman I’ve ever met. She’s worked with war orphans, so is well versed in complex childhood trauma. Scorpius’ first appointment with her is tomorrow afternoon, at 4 pm. The floo co-ordinates are on this piece of parchment. She runs her practice from the bottom floor of her home, so you’ll be floo-ing into a cosy, homely living room designed to make children feel safe.” Harry explained, trying not to stare at Draco as he lingered in the doorway. His feet were bare and his linen shirt was unbuttoned at the neck and the pale curves of his collar bones were tantalisingly visible. He looked so.. At home, and comfortable, and tired, and soft, and Harry just wanted to bundle him up into his arms and watch him rest.
“Thanks, Harry. Really, thank you. I am so sorry for bringing you back into the orbit of my insane family. I thought I had escaped my name, but I’m not sure I ever will.” Draco said, finally pushing off the doorjamb he was leaning against and padding into the room, lowering himself onto the sofa next to Harry. He sighed and leant his head back to rest against the sofa cushions and Harry swallowed, trying and failing to pull his eyes away from the column of Draco’s throat.