Taking Actions.
Two weeks had passed since the talk with the Malfoy, Harry had finished renovating most of the house - only the rooms reserved for Narcissa and Draco weren’t done - with the help of Ron and Hermione. Andromeda had come with him to choose the wallpaper and the furniture she wanted in her bedroom, but she still hadn’t seen Teddy’s. Harry had been working on it since he knew they would come live here, and he had refused any help. He wanted to make this room himself, he wanted it to be special. He wanted Teddy to have the bedroom he had dreamed of when he was younger, locked in his cupboard.
Andromeda was supposed to come by the end of the week, Harry had proposed to help her move, but she had insisted that it wouldn’t be useful, she would only pack what was needed for now and she could always go back if she wanted something, after all, her house will stay hers.
As for Ron and Hermione, the three of them had met a few times and had made a lot of progress; their rooms were full and they had started to disperse some of their belongings in the common rooms. Hermione was the only one of them that chose to go back to Hogwarts, the eight years were allowed to go home on the weekends so she will stay with Harry on them. Ron was in Auror training, he still lives at the Burrow but from what he told Harry, he will probably crash at Grimmauld Place quite often, he only had half of the school breaks so they had decided to pass this half at the Burrow, to maintain the tradition, and the other half will be at Harry house.
Right at the moment Harry was applying charms on the walls of Teddy’s room, on his door, and finally, his ceiling. The first one was supposed to make the luminosity of the paintings change depending on the time of the day, the second one would allow the figures painted to move across the room, and the last one would make the color of the door change, if Teddy ever was distressed. Maybe it was a bit overbearing - absolutely - but Harry wants, needs to be sure that whatever Teddy needs he will have, and even more. He wants to be able to know whenever Teddy needs help or comfort or simply wants someone, because Harry never receives any of this growing up and he won’t survive imagining his godson growing up this way.
He would never be able to forgive himself if anything ever happens to Teddy.
----
Two hours later, Harry is standing in an white marble floored office, he has been in it for the last thirty minutes, learning about the Sacred Twenty-Eight - the truly pure blood families - they didn’t hold as much power now, after all most of those family were known Death Eaters but they still were a big part of the Wizarding Society, while learning how to dance properly. Apparently as a member of the high society, he will be invited to balls and it was considered disrespectful to not dance at least once, and of course it will be more than humiliating for the Malfoy to be associated with someone who “can’t dance to save his life.”
And really why do both at the same time? Because Harry doesn't really get how he is supposed to be learning twenty eight last names as well as the colors of their House, who is at their heads at the moment and what Malfoy calls the basic knowledge of each of their histories - but that Harry would call a whole biography- while dancing alone with the sharp and cold voice of his white haired teacher as music.
“Keep your elbows bent, for the love of Morgana it is called a dance frame not a circle Potter.” He waited for Harry to correct his position before starting again. “Now back to what I was saying, your family is not counted in the Twenty-Eight because your ancestors liked the Muggles a little too much to be sure that there isn’t some Half-blood among them.”
“But there isn't any proof? From what I know I am the only remaining Potter, as well as the only Half-blood one.”
“By Salazar, watch your feet Potter, you’re not supposed to make as much noise as an ogre. You might be the last Wizard Potter, but Muggles also have that name and there is no way to prove that they aren’t coming from Squib rather than Half-blood marriage.”
“So my family isn’t as worthy as yours simply because of unproven suspicions?”
“Wasn’t. Now your family is pretty much more worthy than all of the Twenty-Eight combined.”
“It is just as unfair, most of the new Heads of family were forced to be Death Eaters, the actions that were forced upon you shouldn’t impact the action you are doing now.”
“Life is not fair, Potter. You know that better than anyone else…”
“Yeah ok you're not wrong about that.”
“I am never wrong Potter, I always tell the truth.”
“No you don’t. You said that Muggleborn were less powerful but Hermione is one of the most powerful witches of our generation.”
“There is more than one truth, you believe in one, I was raised into believing in the other. Everyone believes in what they think to be the truth but is it really?”
“Are you implying that there is more than one truth?”
“Exactly.”
Not knowing what to say, Harry shut his mouth and started to dance once again, Draco was watching him closely, the left side of his mouth ticking almost constantly when Harry would make a mistake. After ten minutes of watching him failed an enchaînement again and again, he stood up from his big office armchair.
“Stop. I’m going to lead you, feel my step and learn.”
“What do you mean, feel your step?”
Harry barely manages to finish his sentence before the taller boy steps into his space taking hold of one of his hands and encircling his lower back by a cold hand slightly bigger than his own, somehow maintaining a distance between their bodies.
“Put your left hand on my shoulder. Obviously you will have to reduce the space between you and your partenaire. Now, relax your body, keep your chin up and follow my steps.”
At the same time Malfoy raised his right foot to start the dance a slow music started and without even realizing it Harry danced, he never stepped onto his cavalier toes, didn’t miss a step or lost his balance in the middle of a turn.
It is only when the music stopped and Draco backed away from him, still holding Harry’s hand in his own hand, he raised it to his lips and put them lightly on the second row of his knuckles, that Harry realized their body had naturally got closer to the point where one of Malfog legs had been tucked between his thighs.
“Well I guess you're simply a terrible leader. I fear you will have to wait for someone to ask you in a dance if you don’t want to ridiculise yourself.”
“Does that mean I can’t dance with women?”
“Yes and no, usually the leader is the man but in all truthness it can be a woman if she is the one offering.”
----
And two days later, Harry comes back for a new lesson, handing over the twenty-eight pages of his homework - twelve inches of parchment, one for each family - to a smirking Draco, sitting in a black leather armchair, almost too big for him.
And to be honest, Harry, did, really thought about not doing it, what will Malfoy even do? And it is realizing that he didn’t know what Malfoy will do, that convinces him to do it.
Malfoy might be the only one in this world you wouldn’t treat him differently, he was the only one who didn’t think twice before roughening him as much as he pleased -a little bit harder than anyone else perhaps- but it had always been like that between them, it was their way of communicating, pushing the limits of the other again and again, until it was borderline masochist, because every time the both of them would ended up hurt by what was said, implied, done, but they never really couldn’t hold it against the other for that, it was -pretty much- their own faults for coming back every time.
Because even though they pretend to everyone, and themselves, that hate was the motivator it wasn’t , coming at each other's throats simply allowed them to let go, to say what they really think without having to put on a filter - a mask - like they had to the rest of the time, to meet the expectations.
But they are adults now, they don’t have to watch their words to please people, they can talk and act as them. So it is what Harry will do, he will talk and be himself, he will do his best and have a great relationship with Draco because there is no reason not to.
“So what torture do you have for me today?”
“Sit and read this, I have to check your homework.”
“Gonna give me a mark, professor?”
“Is it too difficult for you to form complete sentences? And do not call me professor.”
“Might be. Why, it is simply a proof of my respect, Sir?”
“I am Lord Malfoy, if you wanted to respect me, you would use this title, no other. Now, sit down, shut up and read.”
“Yes my Lord.”
Executing the least graceful reverence Draco was ever given the chance to witness in eighteen years of life, Harry sat down, clearly amused and start reading the roll of parchment set in front of him, feeling the cold gaze of the older man on him for a few seconds before hearing him sigh and Harry could draw with closed eyes, the roll, full of annoyance, that Draco grayish blue eyes did before he started reading Harry’s notes on their previous lesson, most likely with the expectation of having to correct and start again, all over.
“This is weird.” The words that came out of the blond mouths were just loud enough for Harry to catch them in between to sentences of the strangely not so boring information of the organization and distribution of the power in the Wizard’s Society.
“What is?”
“You actually got it right.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m not as dumb as you think I am.”
“You were pretty average at Hogwarts, didn’t think you would have got everything on the first go.”
“Oh. Well I learn better when hearing, being active also helps, don’t really know why.”
“You’re joking right?”
“No, why would I?”
“Because it’s dumb, Harry! You’re here telling me that you can, actually, learn two things at a time, without any issues simply because you heard it. Most Pureblood childs have to actually put in the effort to learn that, even while experiencing and hearing people talking about it everyday of their life.”
“What do you want me to do?! Do you expect me to be excited about the way I learn?”
“How does it even work? How do you manage to just memorize what you hear?”
“I don’t know, I just do it, most of the time I don’t realize it until I actually have to use the information you know, pretty much like an automatism.”
“That is…so strange…and weirdly astonishing.”
“You don’t do that?”
“No I don’t. I just read again and again until I can write it without having to think about it.”
“Well that sounds like a bother. Always thought you were some sort of genius that doesn’t have to try to learn.”
At that Draco scoff. “Wish I was.”
— —