Chapter 31
Harry took a deep breath and tried to steady himself. He smoothed the suit jacket as he admired himself in the mirror. He wasn’t sure about the suit when he first tried it on but now with it fitted he thought he couldn’t have done better. It was a dark navy color that tapered and fell just perfectly at his mid wrist and ankles. The starched white shirt he left undone at the top two buttons. Thanks to Deena his face was handsome, with a sharp jawline and a short trimmed beard.
With another nervous breath he grabbed the tarts and plant. He held them out away from himself so he wouldn’t get dirty by accident. As he climbed the stairs his mind whirled.
This is the man you kiss and sleep next to, you can just go to dinner. It’s no big deal. Harry attempted to bolster himself, but the intrusive thoughts snuck back in. But what if he doesn’t like it? What if he decides he doesn’t like you? Or worse what if he decides he does and then he wants to do something in the bed besides sleep!
Harry swallowed hard and shook his head. With a trembling hand he knocked on the suite door and waited. He heard the doorknob click, Well there’s no going back now.
Draco pulled open the door and Harry walked in without looking up. When he finally turned to face Malfoy, there was a strange look on his face.
“Here.” Harry stuck out his hands. “These are for you.”
“I don’t understand.” Draco said, looking between the gifts and Harry.
“Well it’s customary isn’t it, to bring your date flowers… but I also know you like these tarts and I still can’t remember if you got to eat them the last time I tried to get them so I got them again.” Harry rambled uncontrollably.
“Okay.” Draco said, taking them from Harry. He smelled the Feverfew and then set it on his desk before he spoke again. “I have a confession.”
“What?”
“I’ve never been on a date before. Like a proper one, where he picks you up and brings you flowers and takes you out.” Draco looked as if this was shameful.
“Well I’m happy to be the first then.” Harry smiled and suddenly he felt some relief from his nerves. Draco would have nothing to measure him against and while Harry was sad that no one had ever asked the other man out, he was happy not to compete with anyone either.
“Come on, let’s not be late.” Draco slid his arms into a gray suit jacket. They walked down the stairs and out the front door to where a car was waiting for them.
In the back seat Draco sat leaning away from Harry. His hands fidgeted nervously with his tie and he picked imaginary lint from his gray pants. When the driver hit a turn too hard Draco’s hand shot out reflexively to hold onto Harry’s wrist. Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing. When the car stopped in front of the restaurant Draco was out the door before Harry could even lift his hand to grab the handle.
“I’ll never get used to that.” Draco said, almost annoyed.
“I’ll make a note to take the train next time.” Harry said as he opened the restaurant door.
Inside a lovely woman showed them their table. Harry sat, pushing his legs beneath the long white tablecloth. There was a single cut fresh flower in a tall skinny vase. Its bushy golden top stood proudly between two skinny white candles that were not lit. Another woman approached the table. She had long brown hair done in a tight bun and the same square line black dress as the hostess.
“Would you care to select a wine?” The waiter asked after she read out the set menu from Hors d'oeuvres to dessert.
“You choose.” Harry offered when Draco looked at him expectantly. He hoped he sounded congenial instead of nervous. Draco selected something from the tiny card stock list she provided. A different person brought the bottle and two wide glasses to the table.
“I thought you liked white wine.” Harry said when the drinks were poured and they were once again alone.
“We’re having lamb tonight.” Draco said matter of factly.
“Right.” Harry managed. Just then their waitress returned with their first course, sparring Harry from the conversation. Draco started eating right away but Harry just sat politely, sipping his wine.
“What’s wrong?” Draco asked.
“I don’t like snails.” Harry admitted. “Would you like them?”
He passed the tiny plate over to Draco who finished it quietly. The second plate arrived and Harry once again didn’t eat.
“You don’t like sardines either.” It wasn’t a question but Harry still sheepishly smiled and shook his head no.
“Why are we here if you don’t like the menu?” Draco raised his eyebrow.
“Well I thought if the menu was set then I wouldn’t embarrass myself… or you… by not knowing what to order.”
“You think that you embarrass me?”
“Well sometimes I’m sure I do,” Harry laughed awkwardly.
“How could you-“ Draco stopped talking as the waitress laid down the main course. He thanked her curtly as she left.
“Of all the things you are to me, Harry, you are NOT an embarrassment.” Draco finished his previous thought before taking a bite. “Frankly you’re dumber than I thought, if you really think that. How can you believe that you’re the embarrassing one? Look at you, the pinnacle of perfection, the literal savior of the world, the chosen one… and then look at me-“
“I am,” Harry cut in. “And I see someone so spectacularly out of my league that it must be a goddamn fucking joke that he’d agree to go out on a date with me.”
They both sat in silence for a moment before breaking into laughter. They drew stares from other patrons and tried to stop. Harry leaned on the table with his elbow and covered his mouth with his hand.
“We’re quite a pair.” Draco said, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry, I’m so nervous.” Harry ran his hand through his hair.
“You shouldn’t be… you’ve already gotten me into bed.” Draco joked.
“What if you realize I’m fine to be with in private but in public I’m-“
“You’re what? Painfully handsome in a suit that’s making every woman in here stretch their necks to check your ringer finger? Or maybe you’re worried that I’ll realize how annoying it is that I can’t help but be jealous of all the people who think you are available.” Draco scowled.
“Am I?” Harry asked. They had never said aloud what was happening between them.
“Are you what?”
“Available.” Harry waited as Draco considered the question.
“No.” Draco decided. Harry smiled, that was just fine by him.
When the meal was finished they walked down the street towards the theater. It wouldn’t be a short walk but Draco insisted he’d rather have sore feet than ride in another car. Harry reached for his hand as they went but Draco tucked his hands into his pockets.
“Is there a reason I’m not allowed to hold your hand?” Harry tried not to sound as put out as he really was. Draco didn’t answer him and they kept walking. They stopped to wait for the light.
“You quit your job.”
“Huh?” Harry couldn’t understand Draco’s outburst.
“Remember when you quit your job and I told you it felt like you were telling me something?” Draco looked at the ground as he spoke.
“I think you called it a declaration.” Harry corrected.
“There’s no reason to hold someone’s hand unless… I mean it’s…” Draco looked up before he spoke again. “I feel like… when I hold your hand…”
A man shoved between them. They hadn’t noticed the light change and instead of finishing the thought Draco walked across the road. Harry followed him quietly. The theater came into view and Harry decided to drop the subject.
“Do you want a drink?” Harry asked once they were inside. Draco shook his head no, so Harry found an usher to show them their seats. The theater was sparsely seated, most people were in the que for drinks or the restroom.
“I hope you like it.” Harry said, trying to fill the silence. The minutes slipped by until at last the lights dimmed and rose again signaling the impending start of the show. Suddenly Draco grabbed Harry’s hand and interlaced their fingers. He held their hands up between their faces.
“This means something to me.” Draco’s eyes were full of emotion and seriousness at the same time. “It might seem stupid but doing this in front of anyone, in front of everyone…it means that whatever is happening isn’t ‘kid stuff’ it isn’t a ‘drunk mishap’ it isn’t ‘some nothing’… do you know what I mean?”
Harry didn’t answer. He couldn’t fathom how hand holding could be so significant. Didn’t he hold hands with his best friend during a scary movie? Hold some crush’s hand on the stairs as they walked to class? Then Harry remembered that he probably hadn’t. In fact, Harry couldn’t remember Draco ever really touching anyone.
Draco dropped their hands into his lap but didn’t let go of Harry’s. He had tried to tell Harry earlier on the street but Harry hadn’t understood. Holding Harry’s hand, being out with him in public, it was Draco’s declaration. Harry watched as Draco stroked the back of his hand with his thumb.
This means something to me, The words played in Harry’s head. He meant something to Draco. Of course Harry had always had his crush, his silly little feelings, but now hearing that Draco felt something back he couldn’t lie to himself any longer.
His feelings had never been little, never been silly. Not really. They had been deep, and heavy, and hard to bear. That’s why it had always been so hard to act on them. He knew if he ever let them out he could never bottle them back up. Suddenly his feelings were all there, consuming him in a way he never allowed.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” Draco whispered sadly when Harry had gone too long without answering.
“I think I’m in love with you.” Harry blurted.
Draco’s eyes went wide but the lights fell and music filled the room. Harry looked down at his playbill and read the title.
Mamma Mia is right. Harry thought.