Chapter 4
The next day, he had been allowed to lie in, and was awoken by Remus standing outside, telling him he could wear his ‘city clothes’ because they were going to the saint Dunstan’s celebrations. He slides on his most casual jeans and a t-shirt with the logo of his school on that he had intended to use as a pyjama t-shirt, but after his visit to the village yesterday he was aware that his normal clothes would still make him look out of place, so he used the least-posh clothes he could find.
He wore his walking boots anyway, mainly because the village was surrounded by countryside and he wouldn't be surprised if the celebrations took place in one of the surrounding fields rather than the village square.
Remus then led him out to the land rover where Harry and Hermione, who must have stayed the night, were standing waiting. Sirius was nowhere in sight, and Draco suspected that the day yesterday had affected whatever medical affliction he had too much for him to be able to come out today.
Draco sat up front with Remus. He was somewhat surprised that Harry hadn't wanted that seat, but instead Harry and Hermione sat in the back, chatting quietly whilst Draco talked to Remus, who was rapidly becoming his favourite person. His no-nonsense yet friendly demeanour made Draco feel safe.
In the few short hours since Draco had been there yesterday, the village had been adorned with bunting in cheery pinks and yellows and blues, and once again Draco feels like he’s wandered into an Enid Blyton book. This England is miles away from the London mansion and private school and skyscrapers he’s used to, and it’s jarring. He feels almost as if he’s in a foreign country.
They made their way to the village square, where many tables and chairs had been set up, with people dotted around. Ribbons adorned the front of the village hall, and its two front doors were wide open. Draco’s eyes alighted on Ron’s mum, Molly, setting up a table laden with cakes and confectionery of all sorts. There were scones, and shortbread, and battenberg and a victoria sponge and a banana loaf, and a chocolate cake and a lemon drizzle and blueberry muffins and brownies and flapjacks and Draco could feel his mouth watering the more he looked. Ron, his brothers, a girl who must be his sister and a man who must be his dad were there already, and their little group made their way over, led by Remus. They were then joined maybe fifteen minutes later by Hermione’s parents.
Before he could even find a seat, a flapjack was shoved into his hand. Everyone was nattering and chattering around him, and he stood awkwardly on realising there were no seats left around their little table. Hermione, his saviour, noticed and scrambled into Harry’s lap whilst beckoning for Draco to take her chair. He smiled at her, before abruptly closing his mouth, worried that there were flapjack oats stuck in his teeth, and took the seat gratefully.
He assumed their closeness indicated that perhaps Harry and Hermione were dating, and whilst none of the adults paid any heed, Draco noticed both Ron and Ginny glare somewhat at the two. Interesting.
The one benefit of no one other than Remus, who was currently engaged with Molly, talking to him was that Draco was left to observe the little world he had stumbled into, and he was noticing more and more discord with every passing day. If he had been at school, he would have filed away this information to later use against them. Private boy’s schools were more cutthroat than given credit for, however despite the clear undercurrents of stress and pain and conflict, this world was peaceful on the whole, and Draco was loath to bring that discord to the surface.
He desperately disliked the person he had been at school and the longer he was here the more he could begrudgingly admit that his mother was right. This was a chance for him to have a completely clean slate and decide what kind of person he wanted to be.
Ron and Ginny near immediately went back to their other conversation, and no one but Draco seemed to notice their reaction to Harry and Hermione’s closeness. Harry wraps his muscled forearms around Hermione’s middle and leans his head on her shoulder. At this, Draco notices Ginny looking again, her face hard, but Ron resolutely looked away.
Soon though, Draco gets swept up into conversation with Bill, the brother from the day before, and forgets all about his little spy mission to learn more about the people around him. He spoke to Bill about how he was finding the farm, and even though he had barely spent a week there, Bill seemed genuinely interested in his opinions and thoughts, which made a refreshing change from Harry and Ron.
Speaking of, Harry and Ron had wandered around the square and were currently chatting to an elderly woman who was sat knitting and surrounded by little kids munching on what looked to be cucumber sandwiches. As Draco ‘observed’ (spied) he saw a tall, lanky, brown haired boy who looked somewhat greasy slink up behind Harry and Ron, placing his hand on Harry’s forearm. Draco saw Harry and Ron stiffen, and Ron stepped up closer behind Harry, his height making him look surprisingly threatening.
Intrigued, Draco stood and made his way over to a table nearby, similar to Molly’s but laden with savoury party foods like finger sandwiches and cheese scones and other very British things. Draco bought himself some cheese scones, and when he looked up again to get closer and overhear the conversation, he saw Remus doing the same, a look of concern on his face. Draco was noticing that Remus always seemed to look quite concerned about those around him, specifically Sirius and Harry.
“Go away, Bryn” Draco heard Ron say, voice low and menacing. The lanky boy- Bryn- tightened his grip on Harry’s arm and turned his saccharine sweet smile to Ron.
“Does this ginger dog speak for you now, Harry?” Bryn asked with a slight welsh valley accent and even Draco felt offended on Ron’s behalf. He pushed down the little voice in the back of his head that told him that was exactly how he used to speak at school, but he couldn't quite push down the shame that arose with it.
“You know I also want you t’bugger off, Bryn, '' Harry said, prying Bryn’s hand off of his arm. Bryn’s expression dropped imperceptibly before that awful smile was pasted back across his face. Harry started shifting on his feet and looked clearly uncomfortable. Ron stepped even closer, draping a freckled arm over Harry’s shoulder.
“Oh, are youse two shagging now?” Bryn said, eyeing them lasciviously.
“Fuck off, Bryn” Harry sighed, closing his eyes briefly.
“It's a shame, Harry. We would work so much better together” Bryn said, winking and drawing a finger down Harry’s chest.
“Did your mam never teach you consent, Bryn?” Remus said, stepping up behind them. Draco saw Bryn blanch before he turned around.
“I think our Harry told you to leave him and Ron alone” he continued. Bryn turned his back on Remus, and said to Harry,
“At least I had a mam to teach me things”, he grinned meanly.
Draco gasped, and received a weird look from the woman manning the sandwich table. He blushed and hastily walked away. He saw Ron reach for Bryn. Harry grabbed Ron by the bicep and pulled him away, followed by Remus. Bryn looked right at Draco and Draco tripped over his feet in an effort to turn around and make it look like he hadn't been watching the whole exchange.
Bryn’s parting remark was another tidbit for Draco to file away, about Harry’s lack of a mother, possibly implying that he had one, but lost her. Bryn’s blatant flirtation seemed to rule out the mark being homophobic in origin.
Bryn’s comments had also heavily implied that Harry was gay… or at least not straight. And surely, if he was dating Hermione, he would have said so. Draco tried to suppress the little flip of his stomach when he realised that Harry was attainable to him as a man, and possibly single. He knew Harry would never go for him anyway, so there’s no point in hoping.
He wandered around the other tables, some of which just held groups of people talking, but some held arts-and-crafty things; hand painted postcards, friendship bracelets and the like. He bought a postcard to send to his mum, and a friendship bracelet to send to Pansy, who had been a childhood friend since birth. He hadn't expected to miss her as much as he did.
Draco then returned to Ron’s family and Hermione, and the latter immediately engaged him in conversation about a book they had both read recently. He got caught up in talking to Hermione who was a challenging conversation partner. She constantly questioned his opinions, confronting him with how many of his opinions on literary works were borne out of classism and his assumed superiority he had developed due to his race and class. He came out of the other end of the interaction thoroughly chastened and questioning his entire upbringing. That was the point of a gap year, he supposed.
Swept up in his debate with Hermione he didn’t notice the hours passing until he saw that it was dusk and everyone was packing up around him. Ron and Harry had returned at some point, Harry looked calmer than Draco expected him to be given the way Bryn had talked to him, but there was a tension in his body that belied his true emotional state.
He returned to the car with Harry, Hermione and Remus, and they drove home in tired yet companionable silence. When they arrived back at the farm, Sirius was talking to the Weasley matriarch as Charlie and Ron carried out the big bench from the kitchen into the stretch of grassy lawn between the big farmhouse and Draco’s little cottage. Once it was set down and Bill and one of the twins- Draco was hard pressed to tell them apart- had brought out the benches, Molly ushered Sirius into a seat and the others all piled in around him as Harry and Remus went off into one of the many barns, and Hermione and Ron disappeared back into the kitchen.
Hermione and Ron returned with armfuls of chipped glazed clay mugs, and passed them out around everyone, and Harry and Remus followed not five minutes after with big stone jars that they lined up on the table, before pouring for everyone. Draco lifted the mug to his lips and the scent of spiced apple enveloped him. He took a tentative sip and cool apple cider filled his mouth. It was possibly the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. He closed his eyes in bliss as he drank, revelling in the cooling late-spring air against his skin. The moment was so nice he almost forgot he was surrounded by strangers, miles from a home he had never felt fully comfortable in.
He opened his eyes again, and the twins drew him into a conversation that felt mocking but wasn't overtly cruel. Draco couldn't quite place his finger on it but it definitely felt a bit like they were making fun of him. Sirius then rescued him by calling down the table if he liked the cider, and when Draco voiced his affirmation, Sirius described how it was homemade by them on the farm.
“There’s a copse of apple trees at the very outskirts, and the recipe is a Lupin family recipe passed down for generations. I love Remus purely because he introduced me to this, and gave me permission to make it myself, on the condition it is kept for us and ours, and never sold for profit.”
Remus blushed a tiny bit as Sirius slung his arm over his shoulder, and Draco marvelled again at how in love the two were. He imagined Harry doing the same to him, but tried to ignore it. It was so hard though, with Harry sitting just diagonally opposite him, skin glowing in the dying light, Adam's apple bobbing seductively as he drank, his large hands almost covering the mug entirely. Looking around the table, Draco caught Ginny staring too, and wondered what the story was there.
His little mental mind-map of the people around him was growing steadily. He felt as if he were surrounded by a mystery, and he was desperate to solve it, both for personal satisfaction but also because he thought that understanding of the little world around him would come hand in hand with his full acceptance into the people around him, who all seemed to know and love each other so richly.
Someone- he missed who but he was fairly sure they were ginger- kept refilling his mug, and before he knew it he was well on the way to being drunk. The air was getting chillier, reminding Draco that for all the heat of the day, it was May and not July, and that he should have had the foresight to bring out a jumper.
Luckily, just as the cold was beginning to get hard to bear, people started getting up and turning in. Hermione and her parents piled into their little mini and drove off into the night, followed by the vast amount of Weasley’s. Draco took the upheaval of guests as cover to make his exit, and he silently made his way back to his little house that was slowly growing on him, despite its small size.
Upon entering, he was enveloped by warmth and up until then he hadn't even noticed he was shivering. He glanced out the window to see Remus and Sirius walking back to the farm house, Sirius leaning on Remus, supposedly in lieu of his cane. Behind them, a Weasley boy and Harry were carrying the table back in, and they came back out for the benches. Draco had never before felt like such an intruder, but that small family tableau of the two older men followed by the two younger reminded him how much of an outsider he was there. He sighed, and pulled the curtains before readying himself for bed.