Draco blinked up at his clock with a disapproving frown. Ten minutes late. Teddy had never been this late before, not even last year when he was hexed by an overzealous fourth year and needed crutches for almost two months solid. Then, as if he’d somehow felt the disappointment radiating off of Draco, Teddy burst into his office. His bag was skewed to the side and dangerously close to spilling paper everywhere, and his face was pink with exhaustion.
“Sorry- Professor- I was- meeting- with another- professor.” He panted, slumping down into one of Draco’s office chairs with an uncharacteristic lack of composure. Draco’s frown deepened with concern- he’d always found Teddy’s composure to be a refreshing break Teddy’s overwhelmingly disorderly classmates.
“Another professor’s meeting is more important than being on time for your one-on-one potion lessons?” Draco said slowly, tone somewhere between suspicious and worried. “Not that I don’t respect my colleagues, but surely they’d understand how hard you worked with me and the Headmaster in order to be able to do such a thing in the first place.”
“Oh, yes, of course Professor Malfoy, of course! It’s just- well,” Teddy paused to think, “Ah, I suppose it doesn’t matter now. I’m very sorry I was so late without notice, Professor. I’ll be certain to be early next week.”
“Very well then, Lupin. I look forward to it.” Draco replied curtly, whipping out his wand and summoning forth his personal cauldron from the shelf it was on. He wasn’t one to let late students off without a halfway decent explanation for why, but Teddy was easily his best student. He supposed he could move along just this once. “Let’s get started, shall we? Where did we leave off last week?”
“We brewed some Liquid Luck, I believe. Ah, yes, I took note of it. Are we continuing that today? I’m not sure I’m quite happy with the final product from last week, sir.” Teddy hummed, seemingly already moved on from the earlier debacle. Draco smiled and flipped open his own book, happy to continue with their lesson.
-
Teddy’s odd behavior continued for another two weeks, resulting in a poorly made Jawbind Potion, a horrid Dizziness Draught, and a significantly worse Felix Felicis than from before. Finally, when Teddy arrived nearly twenty minutes late for his lesson three weeks after the first fumble, Draco could hardly handle it.
“Mr. Lupin, are you taking the time I’ve dedicated to these lessons for you for granted? I have several other tasks I would love to take care of if you continue to treat these lessons like some common task. Must I remind you of the two-page letter who had to write to have this opportunity, or perhaps the two-page letter I had to write to the Ministry on your behalf?” Draco said sternly, eyebrows furrowed. “If there is something going on that is impeding your ability to focus on your work, then I strongly advise you tell me now before I’m forced to make my own conclusions.”
Teddy looked stricken. “No, Professor, I didn’t mean for it to come across like I don’t care about these lessons- I’m sorry. I’ve just been so scrambled lately, to tell you the truth. My… friend Jack- erm, Jack Weasley has been acting really annoying lately and now that my godfather is teaching here, I just feel really, really distracted.” He said quickly, waving his hands around loosely. “I actually look froward to these lessons quite a lot. I’m very sorry I’ve been so off my game.”
Draco felt his hackles lower. “Ah, I see. Have you considered telling your godfather about your grievances? I’m more than certain he’d be willing to listen. Keeping it all to yourself will only distract you more, Lupin, and you’re a very good student. If it is affecting your work like this, then I am assuming it is far more stressful to you than you’re letting on.” He replied slowly. “I say this as your concerned teacher, Lupin. Take today off and get your head back on straight. I expect you at your best next week, understand?”
Teddy nodded his head furiously, grabbed his bag, and rushed out of Draco’s office, ears pink with either embarrassment.
-
As promised, Teddy did return to his best the next week, but Draco was left curious about the offhanded comment he made about his godfather. Draco was by no means close personally with Teddy- he kept a very strong distance between himself and students personal lives for obvious reasons- but his comment meant that his godfather was now a colleague of Draco’s. Perhaps it was ridiculous given how far in the semester they were, but he hadn’t the faintest idea of who that could be.
He was a tad out of touch ever since the war ended all those years ago, sure, and the disconnect had done well for him. He’d requested from Professor McGonagall that all his meals be held in his office, even the celebratory ones, in order to give him some semblance of peace. She’d relented, and even now- four years later- he still ate his meals in the peace of his own space and away from the prying eyes of the school. He spent a very little amount of time anywhere that was not the library, the Quidditch pitch or the greenhouses to bother Neville. It seemed impossible that he’d miss the hiring of an entirely new teacher but considering that he’d missed the Grand Feast at start of term and avoided all other professors and staff outside the rogue meeting in the Headmaster’s office, it started to make more sense. In fact, the last real person he cared about being hired was Neville, and that was because they’d been corresponding long before their mutual careers at Hogwarts.
He was curious, but not curious enough to barge into the staff room at lunch and come face to face with the new edition on his own. The students didn’t really whisper about a new professor, but Draco had a strict limit to needless chatter in class, so that was to be expected. Teddy didn’t mention it again in their little lessons, and while it wasn’t on the top of his list of things to get done, it had begun to bother him.
“Neville.” He said finally, sick enough of his own useless toiling, “Who in blazes is the new professor?”
Neville looked up from the pot he was rooting through, face smudged with dirt in the unflattering way it often was. “New professor? There’s another new professor?” he asked, face twisted with confusion.
“No, I mean the new professor this year. I was not aware until just a few weeks ago that there was even a new professor, and now I’m asking you. Who is the new professor?” Draco said, trying to seem less draft than he probably sounded.
Neville blinked at him for a long moment, the color slowly draining from his face. “You- you don’t- you seriously don’t know about the new professor? I thought- Mate, this entire time I thought you were just being decent about the whole thing, I had no idea…”
“Neville, who in Merlin’s name is it?” Draco said, feeling suddenly very cold. He hadn’t heard Neville speak like that in a very long time, much less aimed at him.
Neville looked very much like he’d rather not be the person to break the news to him, whatever the news may be. “Well- erm- when Professor Swan got those two Hufflepuff girls sent to St. Mungo’s, McGonagall had to really… go looking, you know, since that job’s basically cursed. No one would take it, no one but- ah- Harry.”
Draco blinked. “Harry.”
“You know- Harry.” Neville mumbled, avoiding Draco’s gaze. “Since he’s, uh, got so much experience. With Dark Arts. The thing he got hired to teach defense for.”
“You’re telling me,” Draco said quietly, “That Harry Potter has been teaching in this very castle for nearly three months now and I am just now finding out?”
Neville wilted, arms stuck in the pot at an odd angle as he sank back. “I really thought you knew, Draco, seriously. Shocked us all, it did. I haven’t heard from Harry in years and now he’s here, teaching like no time has passed.” He said awkwardly, chancing a glance at Draco. “Actually, to tell you the truth, I haven’t seen him much since the start of term. All my second years say he’s cool but really, really hard to catch outside of class.”
Draco could hardly hear what Neville was saying over the drone of buzzing in his head. Harry Potter was there, at bloody Hogwarts of all places, and had been for a conceivable chunk of time. He felt almost as if he were going to faint. He would have preferred for nearly anyone but Harry to be there, including any of the Weasley clan and that was surely saying something. “Neville, you’re serious?”
Neville got up and started to wash his hands, eyebrows meshed together with concern. “You’ll be alright, won’t you Draco? I haven’t properly caught up with Harry since the semester’s been so busy, but Hermione used to tell us all some stuff sometimes just to let us know he’s alive. Heard he’s been helping godfather that fifth year you dote on- Teddy, right?”
Oh, Draco could not handle this. “Neville, I’m going to go now. It’s been a pleasure.” He said stiffly. Neville’s expression darkened and he fumbled to turn off the faucet, but Draco had already swept out of the greenhouse.
-
Harry fucking Potter, of course. Draco had been pacing in his office for an embarrassing amount of time, long enough to watch his meal pop onto his desk and then vanish without ever stopping to take a bite. Really, he shouldn’t be so bent out of shape about the whole thing considering he’d managed to avoid him for nearly three months now without even trying, but Draco knew his own luck better than that. Potter was bad news, and clearly, by the way Teddy had been acting, Draco was right. Never mind their years of shared history and complex feelings, Draco had spent years, six months house arrest, eight months’ probation, and two Mind Healers to get over that. Becoming the Hogwarts’s potion master was a point of pride for Draco, a step forward towards a future he built for himself, something he’d clawed his way into ever since the opportunity graced his owl’s leg. Harry just showing up, unannounced and seemingly without warning- according to his supposed old friend Neville- was exactly the sort of thing he would do. Handed to him. Easy.
Granted, he hadn’t heard about Harry for several long pleasant years, and by what he recalled of Neville’s flustered recounting, neither had anyone else. Draco, as mentioned priorly, had long refused to stay current with the news, and this had originally sourced from the sickening amount of coverage Potter received at the end of the war. Draco and his family were on their knees, and to add salt that festering wound, a particularly angry Daily Prophet employee had cursed their daily copy to be relentless until read. It would bang on windows, reassemble itself when blasted to pieces, trample plants and worse, harass his already fragile mother. However, after some help from the Auror tasked on checking with them, the Malfoys officially closed themselves off from news of any kind, including everything Potter-related.
He wasn’t sure why Potter would stoop to the level of becoming a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor when there were certainly much more fruitful options out there, like kissing baby’s heads and signing broomsticks. The idea that Potter had been just given the position so easily when Malfoy had to have McGonagall beg the Ministry to allow him to teach only fueled his newfound rage. He’d sucked up every ounce of dignity he’d been building while locked away to accept the help and become a professor at the school after Slughorn’s death, and even then, students were still regularly pulled from his course once parents found an ex-Death Eater was teaching. Like that hadn’t ever happened before, honestly.
Before he could get to wound up in conspiracies, however, the answer of how Potter came to the school came to him faster than he’d expected. The very next day, McGonagall requested tea with him in a very sharp note that left a decline off the table. He marched up to her office feeling a little like he was a snot-nosed student again, and truthfully, her office gave him a cold, empty feeling of a fear long past.
“Good evening, Professor Malfoy.” She said briskly, already sitting at her desk with a tea opposite her just for Draco. He knew how she preferred things to go, and he did admire how prompt she believed in being.
“Good evening, Headmaster.” He said a little darkly, sitting across from her and accepting the tea with cold-tipped hands. “I’m assuming Neville told you about our chat yesterday?”
“Professor Longbottom was quite kind in disclosing to me that you hadn’t heard about our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. I’m going to be honest with you, Malfoy- Potter expressed concern when he came here about your reaction.” She said in a mater-of-fact tone. “I have no doubt that you’ll remain as you’ve proved yourself to be in nature, but I must insist that you keep your head. Neville seemed to believe you were quite upset.”
“You think I’m going to do something to him?” Draco said, almost hurt. Something dark and prickly started to crowd his chest, stopped only by McGonagall’s sudden frown.
“Absolutely not. Good heavens, Malfoy, I believed us to be past this trial of trust. I’m merely concerned about your wellbeing.” She said sharply. “I only mention this to you now as Neville seemed to think you were worried and also as someone who knows of your past relationship with Potter. I have already told Potter this morning to be civil, and I am telling you now as a means to be fair. You both are here to teach the next generation of wizards and I expect you both to remain thoroughly dedicated to it.”
Malfoy wasn’t sure what to do with that information. Did they really think he was worried? That what, Harry might try something? “Right. Headmaster, tell me, how did Potter come to work here in the first place? I can’t imagine Potter’s only option was to come teach here, especially alongside me.” He said, taking a sip of tea.
It wasn’t something he’d usually ask of her, but she seemed to understand that his concern laid outside worries of being attacked in the hallways by a hex from Potter. “Actually, as I understand it, it was.” She said softy. “Malfoy, I’m not sure how much of Potter’s situation you have heard- I myself know very little- but I received a letter about four months ago from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley-Granger’s owl that Mr. Potter was looking to find a job. Any job, even Filch’s position. I, of course, recommend he apply with his own owl and resume for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and two weeks before term I received the necessary information from Mr. Potter to be hired.”
Draco blinked. “Neville said he’d been contacted for the job and was hired straight away.”
“I did contact him, or I suppose I contacted the Weasley-Grangers precisely, but he was not the only applicant I had. I hired him as he was leagues better than the man I’d found originally, but by no means was he simply accepted. There is an order to things, Malfoy, and I shall follow it as long as it holds promise.” She said curtly. “I have not seen much of Potter since he was hired, but the students seem to enjoy him immensely and their marks are far better than with Professor Swan. It seems to me that you and Potter are fair colleagues that continue to shall work together nicely.”
Draco considered this. He’d never known McGonagall to bend the rules for someone before, and even when she had, she’d done so in a way that very much left the rules adjusted to the way she needed them to be. If Potter was hired fairly- according to whatever rules Hogwarts had in place- he wasn’t in much of a place to argue.
He trailed back to his office after a strained good night, feeling somehow bitter and a little like he’d been told off. He didn’t like being wrong, and when it came to Potter, he was famously very wrong very often. Sure, it was nice to know that McGonagall and Neville were concerned for him and his inevitable Potter-induced spiral, but what could that do to soften the blow that he’d received? Not to mention the slightly-more worrying consideration that Teddy, his best student, was the godson of that glorified idiot. No wonder he was so off his game- Draco couldn’t imagine having to hold court with that brainless git for longer than what was necessary, much less most of your life.
By the next morning, he’d talked himself down from a full-scale rage and into a more socially acceptable “crabby mood,” and his poor first years had to take his bottled-up wrath in stride. He was determined to not let Potter ruin another good thing for him, not now, and not ever again.
-
As the Christmas holiday season approached and the grounds became colder, Draco’s mind was thoroughly moved off of Potter and onto the mounds of scrolls he had to sort through and grade. The third years were shaping up to be more competent as a class than the second years and fourth years combined, but the Gryffindors were- unsurprisingly- abysmal. Teddy had really worked hard to pull himself back together and had made one of the best Liquid Luck potions Malfoy had ever seen. He still seemed tense but whatever had ailed him before had long been put aside for his studies. At least, for his potions marks.
The day before all the students were set to leave for the holidays, he gave everyone a small vial of Pepperup Potion and wished them a safe vacation. He summoned garland and tinsel to decorate his blackboard and manifested a little fir tree by the door of the dungeon, much to the surprise of his first-year students. As the last feast of the term ended, he made himself a rare cup of hot chocolate to celebrate the future break and upcoming holidays. It came as a shock to many, but Malfoy- now as a free man- rather enjoyed the holiday festivities.
He hummed some old Muggle carols that Luna had showed him as he made another large vat of Pepperup Potion- the only gift he’d been known to give out for Christmas. It was only when he took a break to get more ingredients from the school’s stores that he paused at the sound of voices.
“Teddy, really, you should go home to Andromeda. She misses you.” A voice said then, familiar but not quite placeable.
“And what, leave you here all alone? Why don’t you go back to the Burrow or go stay with Nan and me? I’m sure people miss you too, Harry.” Snapped Teddy Lupin, voice laced with thick annoyance Draco had never heard before. “Besides, the train is already gone. I’m staying here and that’s that.”
“Teddy, you know I’d go if they’d- If it was something I could do. I’m staying because I’m a little behind on grading.” Said Harry, slightly louder now. Draco pinned himself to the wall of the ingredient closet and whisked out his light, heart hammering in his chest. “You know a train hasn’t stopped you from getting home before, Ted, you speak like that incident you had with Jack wasn’t just last year. Besides, you’re going to be bored out of your mind being here for the holidays.”
This only seemed to rile Teddy up, who huffed and stopped walking. “You know as well as I do that you’re already done with grading. Merlin, you know, I was really thinking you were starting to come around! When Ron said you were coming here to teach, I thought for sure you were going to be- I don’t know- better! All you’ve done is stay hidden away though, just like always! I heard that Professor Malfoy didn’t even know you were here until like last month!” he snapped, voice tight with emotion. “I’m staying because if I don’t, you’ll hide away again! I’m not going to stand here and watch you disappear like you did before!”
There was a heavy moment of silence that hung in the air, broken only by the shift of robes and a loud sniff.
“Oh, Teddy.” Harry said, voice soft. “Ted, I’m sorry you’ve been so worried about me. I’ve been- I’ve been trying. What I’m going through is nothing that you should have to worry about, and while I appreciate that you’ve been concerned for me, you’ve got to give me time and trust me. I promise you I’m staying. I’m never going away ever again, do you understand? I swear it to you.”
“I just- I can’t stand it, Harry.” Teddy said with a clogged voice, muffled by fabric. “Jack said you were wasting away here like you were at- at Grimmauld Place.”
“Oh, what does Jack know?” Harry chided, tone light but voice heavy. “Really, Teddy, I’m here to stay. Even without Hogwarts, I’m here to stay. Promise me you won’t spend too much time worrying for me, won’t you? Hermione and Ron would tell you it’s not worth it. I’m just adjusting, Ted, I promise I’m alright.”
There was nothing more said, but Draco listened closely to the sounds of fading footsteps. He breathed out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding as soon as he couldn’t hear them any longer and lit his wand with half a brain. No wonder Ted had been so distracted- he’d been worrying himself sick about Potter. He couldn’t blame him, really, there was no one more stressful than Potter and no one more reckless. He couldn’t shake the sound of Teddy’s teary voice though, nor Potter’s oddly defeated manner of talking. It sounded as if he’d heard it all before, too practiced, too quick and too prepared to defuse the conversation. It wasn’t that he was also worried for Potter now, no- but he’d be lying if he wasn’t human enough to feel concern echo in his chest.
-
Perhaps it was the holiday fever, or maybe it was the deeply personal conversation he overheard, but whatever it was, something drove Malfoy to break his own seclusion and join the remaining students in the Great Hall for the holiday feast. Neville’s face lit up when he saw Draco descend into the Great Hall, decked out in his own goofy casual Muggle sweater and dirt-stained jeans. Draco had been sensible to stay in his normal dark cloak, feeling right at home with the stiff-necked Headmaster and the nervous first- and second-year students who’d stayed. Flitwick was in a funny little suit and Madame Pomfrey was in a rather modest dress, both chattering to one another like the old friends they were. Hagrid was also there, dressed as horridly as he normally did, and right beside him was a very tired looking man with shoulder length black hair and Teddy Lupin.
Draco sat down beside Neville and refused to look over in Harry’s direction for even a second longer. “Neville.” He started, “Aren’t you pleased to see me?”
“Yeah, I can’t believe you’re actually here. I thought you were allergic to these sorts of things. That’s what Luna said, anyway.” Neville said with a laugh. Draco’s old friends- now mostly just glorified pen pals these days- used to ask what he ever saw in Neville as a friend. He’d say it was a mystery how they could miss it.
“Well, she’s right of course. I’ll probably die this evening from all this exposure. I hope you’re prepared to take care of all my assets, Longbottom.” He said with a dry tone, making Neville only snort in reply.
“Don’t even say such things, Mr. Malfoy!” Madame Pomfrey chirped from her side of the table. “I’m looking forward to a quiet night!”
The feast started not long after that, and Draco allowed himself a short moment to truly look at Potter. He glanced over just as Potter was shoveling potatoes onto his plate and took in his messy head of hair, dark waves punctuated by a streak of grey that he’d tucked behind his ear. His glasses were still round but now they were a thicker gold wire than his ugly ones from before. He couldn’t see those trademark green eyes from his angle, but he did see the delicate signs of age and the deep tiredness that seemed to emanate from his very being. Potter turned to say something to Teddy, and at that exact moment, Teddy caught Draco’s’ eye.
“Oh, hello Professor Malfoy! I didn’t know you were staying too!” he said brightly, familiar in a way that clearly shocked Potter enough to make him drop his spoon. The clatter didn’t seem to bother Teddy though.
“Hello Lupin, what a pleasure.” He replied, hoping that Teddy would drop it.
“Professor, I know we’re on break and all, but do you think I could still borrow the dungeons for a little bit to practice my Draught of Living Death again? I’m just not sure I’m cutting everything up right, and I want to try again before term starts.” He said, plowing forward despite Draco’s wishes.
“Wouldn’t it be better to take a break and enjoy the season? You’re already top of the class and the next class after that.” Draco said, ignoring the Potter’s burning gaze. “However, you know where to find everything if you need it. Please bring anything you make to me though, for storage purposes. You already know the laws and rules, Lupin.”
“Of course, Professor Malfoy.” He said excitedly, before turning to Harry, “Oh, right. Harry- er, Professor Potter, Professor Malfoy believes that I’m going to become the youngest potions master in Wizarding history. I told you I wouldn’t be bored. I have a goal.”
“Oh, is that so?” Harry said, and Draco found himself bracing for something. “I’m not surprised in the least. You’re bloody brilliant, Teddy. Someone in this family ought to be good at Potions.”
“Great at Potions, Potter. Your godson has the makings of a real master.” Draco cut in, and for the first time, he and Harry met eyes. It didn’t hurt as bad as Draco had been expecting.
Harry broke away first, smiling over at Teddy and ruffling his hair, which had shifted from blue to pink during all the compliments. “Enough fawning over Ted, huh? There’s a feast right here and I haven’t even had one bite.”
The rest of the feast went by without injury, and he spent most of it avoiding further interacting with Potter and catching up with Neville. Apparently, Neville and Luna were going on a holiday after second term to visit Ginny, a sentiment that even said out loud was enough to turn Neville pink. Draco hadn’t been strong enough to ask what their convoluted relationship looked like, but he did know enough to tell that the three of them had something very special. He confided in Neville about his plans to sell Malfoy Manor once and for all, a feat that was by no means as easy task. His summer was doomed to be spent just undoing all the dark charms his father laid everywhere in order to make it remotely sellable. By the time they’d finished desert, Malfoy wished them all a goodnight, told Neville to start building his coffin for when they found his dead body in the morning, and made himself one last hot chocolate before bed.
-
The students arrived back just in time for the first real good snowfall of the year, and that wasn’t the only thing causing for a rush of excitement. Something big had happened and the students just knew it, because why else would their reclusive Potions professor and their even more reclusive Defense Against the Dark Arts professor be walking out in the hallways like it was normal? Draco found the students whispering to be sort of funny- except during class- and he took to this rumor with a surprising amount of willingness. Students were openly speculating if there had been a threat or perhaps another Triwizard Tournament, because for those professors to be out, something really had to be going on. Draco found that if he whipped around the corners with a specific kind of coldness, the same that Snape might’ve once used, that really sent the students spiraling.
No, the truth was that Draco was just feeling a little giddy. He couldn’t name why, per se, but he just felt sort of like things, as a whole, were going to be alright. This sensation was a foreign one to him, as most things brought on strong sense of foreboding for him, and he was not one to trust easily. He really didn’t know why, but after the Great Hall holiday feast, he found himself feeling strangely lighthearted. Maybe it was that he and Neville finally got to speak openly, or maybe it was just the act of leaving seclusion for once and it going so well, or maybe it was that he and Potter actually got along despite his initial fears. He wasn’t sure but walking down the corridors now did not feel like the chore it once did.
Evidently, Potter had felt the same way to some degree, because even his most well-mannered students couldn’t help themselves from talking about their latest Potter sighting in class. It wasn’t so great to hear him being buzzed about again, but instead of awe it was usually just confusion to students experiencing their usually elusive professor become more visible.
“Did you see that Professor Potter was down with Hagrid again? In broad daylight? I thought McLagan said he only went down at night!”
“Can you believe I almost knocked over Professor Potter today? Of all professors, him! Mark said I’d have higher chances of meeting a wild werewolf!”
“Professor Longbottom and Potter were chatting in the third-floor corridor- I’m telling you, I really saw it!”
Draco eventually shut them all up, but the whispers did have him smiling to himself in the quiet of his office. He’d always been partial to the rumors about Potter that made it sound as if he were some rare mystical creature and not their professor. Truthfully, it reminded him of simpler times, back when ruining Potter’s day was his only concern outside of his awful Transfiguration marks. He wondered offhandedly how Potter was receiving the rumors now, all these years later. Was he as bothered about it now as he was then? Surely that hothead gene of his couldn’t have faded that much…
“Professor Malfoy? Are you alright?” Teddy asked, jarring him from his thoughts. He’d been so caught up in his thoughts that he’d hardly noticed Teddy come in for their lesson.
“Ah, yes, sorry Lupin. Did you ask me a question?” He said, feeling thoroughly caught off-guard.
Teddy’s expression looked concerned, something Draco found he’d been doing far too often for a boy his age. “No, I just came in. Professor, if I may ask, are you and my godfather having a row? Professor Longbottom and Jack’s dad both told me you both used to fight like dogs when you were younger, and everyone’s been saying how you’re both … acting strangely…” he trailed off, hair wilted into a sort of embarrassed-looking rose color that matched his red-hot ears.
Draco blinked. “Oh, Lupin, do you really believe everything that people tell you so blindly? Me and your godfather are not having a “row.” If it seems that we’re both acting oddly, I insist you consider that it is merely coincidence. I haven’t spoken properly with Professor Potter in several years, and I highly doubt he’d want to start now.”
Something akin to realization crossed Teddy’s face then, and that dreaded sense of foreboding that Draco hadn’t felt all week came back with a swoop. “Professor, I actually think he’d really enjoy speaking properly with you now.” He said then, eyes bright. “He’s been telling me he’s wanting to have tea with you for nearly a week now, and I think it would be pretty, er, cool if you’d meet with him! My godfather isn’t very good at making plans, you know, and I agree with Professor Longbottom that more friends would do him good. Please, Professor, can’t you owl him or something? Maybe talk about my grades or maybe the latest in Potions Weekly or whatever you’re into?”
Draco could hardly believe how the last five minutes had gone or what Teddy had just said to him. “I had no idea Professor Longbottom was being so candid with you about Professor Potter. I appreciate your sentiment, Lupin, but I cannot understate how long it has been- “
“Oh, Professor, Har- er- Professor Potter hasn’t talked to anyone in ages,” he said quickly, “If you knew each other then, I guarantee that you’ll be needing a catch-up with him. Please, Professor, I don’t mean to sound desperate, but I think you’d both get along grandly. It’s true that I don’t understand everything about the past, but If Christmas’ feast was any indication, I think it would be well worth your time.”
“Alright, Lupin, enough of this.” Draco said sharply, swallowing the strange anxiety that had risen in his chest during Teddy’s rushed pleading. “I understand. I’ll consider it, and that is all I shall say on the matter. Now, if you’re finished, may we start with the lesson?”
Teddy nodded and fumbled as he rooted through his bag for his supplies. Draco huffed and flicked his wand, summoning his supplies with more furor than he needed. Truly, he was an idiot to think that he and Potter could just coexist without outside forces trying to make them interact. He understood Teddy’s drive to help his godfather- Draco’s own godfather had been a force to be reckoned with himself- but that wasn’t his problem to solve. If anything, he should be the last person on earth to be dealing with a fragile reclusive Potter. Their interaction at the feast had just been a show of their promised civil behavior in front of several of their peers and students, even if that’s not what Draco had been thinking at the time. Potter was none of his concern.
-
Upon his entry, Draco’s first though was that Potter’s classroom was strangely clean from the mental picture he’d been bracing for. Draco hadn’t really gotten to know the cleaning habits of his former enemy, but for some reason, he’d long assumed that Potter was as messy as his hair. The walls were covered in bright posters titled things like Five Things To Remember If You’ve Encountered A Kappa and Common Anatomy of a Pixie. The desks were all lined up in smart little rows, broken up by the large desk up front that was covered by several little items of interest. Draco walked up and looked at them closer, noting that many of the objects were well labeled with warnings or locked behind glass for safety. He saw a large cage by a propped open window, presumably for an owl that was currently away. He didn’t bother to ask why Potter’s owl wasn’t in the Owlery like the rest of the school’s were- he knew better than to question things like that when it came to him. The answer in truth might infuriate some old, teenaged part of him that hadn’t quite healed.
He hadn’t been in the Defense Against the Dark Arts room since before the war, and while Potter’s décor had helped stifle his initial reaction, the weight was settling in. Draco avoided most of the castle for the painful memories that still plagued him, even if they were weaker now in comparison to when he was a young man still freshly wounded. In the four years that he’d taught there, he had yet to visit most of his old classrooms and refused to ever step foot in the Slytherin common room ever again.
The door opened then, and Potter popped his head out of his office atop the stairs. “Ah, Malfoy. I figured you’d be early. When I told Neville you were going to be by, he said to be ready at least half an hour before the time you’d said.” Potter said, looking awkward. “Um, come in? Or did you want a tour?”
“A tour of the classroom I’d been taught in for almost seven years, Potter?” Draco replied, instinctively waspish. Potter flushed, and Draco realized then that he’d been seriously asking.
“Right. Sorry for asking.” He said, turning away. “Come up whenever, I’ve just made some tea.”
Draco waited a moment to come up, already dreading his rash choice to talk about Teddy’s grades with Potter even after he’d already decided not to. He’d spent almost an entire afternoon in a peaceful state about his decision until Neville came up for their weekly lunch (a thing Neville had insisted on doing now that he was working with a new plant that left half of his greenhouses too dangerous to hang out in). Neville spent half the time complaining about how hard it was to get Potter to do anything now, including popping down to the Three Broomsticks for a butter beer. Draco kept insisting they talk about literally anything else, but Neville was on a roll.
“I mean, I knew it was bad, but it’s like he’s not even the same person anymore, Draco. We’ve all changed a lot since the war and that’s an understatement, I know, but I had no idea.” Neville had said, and Draco couldn’t find a response fitting enough to resolve the tension. Potter might not be any of his business, and he had many other things he could be doing, but Draco could see how Potter’s apparent withdrawal from society had been straining every good thing Draco had in his life once again. If he could make a rough sort of amends with Potter- or at least, come to a proper civil agreement- then perhaps Potter would feel more apt to leave his reclusion more often and quell Neville and Teddy’s worries.
He entered Potter’s office with the same hesitance he entered the classroom with, only to be met with a quaint little office covered in little objects of importance to Potter. His desk was scooted closer to the window so that the little array of plants on its corner could receive full sunlight. A large Harpies poster was plastered on the wall, signed by Ginny Weasley herself. Several dubious shelves lined the opposite wall, all overflowing with knickknacks and bobbles, some whirring and some glittering. The Gryffindor Sword was pinned above the fireplace mantle, and despite the springtime coolness, the fireplace was unlit and gated off. It was exactly the sort of sweet and hand-collected scene that Draco had been dreading.
“I’m sure you’re used to neater offices, so you’ll have to excuse mine.” Potter said, turned away and busy making two cups of tea. “I’m not used to visitors yet, so sorry if the tea isn’t good.”
Draco wasn’t sure why Potter was being so polite, but Neville had said he was not the same person nowadays. “Nonsense, Potter. You forget that Neville teaches here, and his office is literally fatal to wizards at this very moment.” He replied, taking a seat opposite Potter’s desk. “I’ll be honest, your office is far more put together than I thought possible of you.”
Potter came over to him and slid him his cup of tea, mouth quirked in a ghost of a smile. “Right, thank you.” he said with an airy snort. “You said in your note you wanted to discuss Teddy’s grades? I thought he was best of his class.”
Draco had been dreading this part of their little meeting all day. Yes, he’d mentioned Teddy’s grades as the reason for wanting to meet, but really, what could he say? “Yes, he is. I was more interested in discussing with you- since you’re his godfather and all- about his future. I must say Potter, he’s got more skill in Potions that I’ve seen in even some masters I’ve met.”
“That’s Ted for you.” Potter said with a genuine smile. “Well, to tell you the truth, I haven’t the faintest idea of what his future is going to look like. I was planning on letting him tell me.”
Draco barely held back his eyeroll. “Yes, obviously, but that doesn’t mean you can just let him squander such talent by going into a useless field all because neither of you knew what was required. Have you considered what he’ll need to do to earn an apprenticeship, Potter? Surely, you’ve discussed his plans with him?”
The air in the room became charged with something familiar; Draco couldn’t help the shiver that went up his spine as he watched Potter’s eyebrows pinch together. “I’d thought you would help prepare him, seeing as you’re his Potions professor and all.” Potter snapped. “Teddy’s been forging is own path for ages now, and yes, for the record, I have discussed his plans with him. You should see the state he left my kitchen in before the start of the year just practicing his potions. I fail to see why any of this warrants a private meeting to talk about, unless you’re needing me to help with something he’s wanting to do.”
Blast, he thought to himself, I’ll just have to bite the bullet then, I suppose. “You’re right, and during our private lessons I’ve discovered something that might be of interest to you. Honestly, I mentioned his grades in my note as a means to bring something else up with you: Teddy seems to be very concerned about something in his personal life.” Draco said, looking away pointedly. “I’m not one to be concerned with my pupil’s personal lives usually, but it has begun to affect the quality of his work. We’ve discussed it, of course, but he’s been very quiet about the root of his distraction. I know that if I were his godfather, I’d be very interested in knowing that he’s having a hard time.”
Potter paused. Draco knew that he was sort of throwing Teddy under the bus, but it wasn’t like he was lying. Besides, Teddy is the one who came in begging to have his Potions professor meet up with his godfather for the express purpose of making him interact with more people. The method of how was never going to be perfect, especially between Draco and Potter. Speaking of Potter, the man had gone from pissed to deflated in a matter of moments, sinking back into his chair with a look of guilt etched over all of his features.
“I’ve noticed that too.” Potter said after another moment. “He won’t tell me what’s been going on, but he keeps having these outbursts lately, and I think it might have to do with his friend, Jack. Andromeda’s been telling me its just him being a moody teen, but Teddy’s never been like this before. I know we’re not- I know it’s awkward, but could you tell me what he’s said to you about it?”
Draco could hardly believe how dense Potter was. “I can tell you he’s barely mentioned his friend Jack.” He said simply, not quite wanting to believe that Potter wasn’t willing to face the fact that he was the root for Teddy’s stress. Potter couldn’t possibly think that all of Teddy’s drama was purely because of his Weasley friend.
“Really?” Potter said then, looking even more concerned. “Malfoy, listen to me- those boys have been friends for nearly ten years now. They were best friends right up until last year, and Teddy refused to talk about what happened with me or Andromeda. This past year he’s been hellbent on moving on, and from what George has said to me, Jack’s been the same.”
“You really think that he’s been so out of sorts purely because of a lost friendship with Jack Weasley?” Draco deadpanned. “Potter, I am going to say this now because I am a good professor and I care for my best student enough to be frank with you. Teddy is very concerned about your wellbeing.”
Potter narrowed his eyes. “Yes, Malfoy, I’m aware. If I were to spend all my time trying to make the people who care for me less concerned about me, I would be better off never leaving the room I slept in. He’s a good man, and while I’m aware he’s worried on my behalf, I know my godson better than that.” Potter said, voice low. “I’ll bet you that I’m an easier excuse to blame than facing what he’s really dealing with. Losing a friend is no small thing.”
Draco had to admit that he’d been- until this moment- unwilling to feel the weight of Potter’s words. Looking at it all now, while Potter certainly looked worse for wear, even as a schoolboy Draco couldn’t remember a time where Potter put himself first. Truthfully, it was that aspect of Potter’s nature that pissed him off the most. It was easy to assume that Teddy felt the same, or at very least, it was easier to understand that sort of frustration. Watching someone throw themselves away was nothing easy to swallow, and with The Boy Who Lived Twice, you might as well just keep your funeral robes out and ready.
“I see.” Draco said eventually, taking a measured sip of his now cooled tea. “While I agree that Lupin is likely to be struggling with his friendship to Jack Weasley, I ask that you take care of yourself. I won’t have my best student fail because his godfather can’t be bothered to have tea with his old friends. He’s just a boy, Potter.”
Something crossed over Potter’s expression then, and it took a moment before Draco recognized it. Harry wasn’t surprised, no, it looked more like something he’d been thinking had been confirmed. “Harry.” Potter said then, tone strange and lightweight.
“Excuse me?”
“Harry.” He said again, eyes bright. “We’re colleagues now, aren’t we? You’re welcome to call me Harry. Can I call you Draco?”
Draco felt truly caught off-guard. “I- well, I suppose. Not in front of the students, mind you. Mess that up even once and I’ll hex your eyebrows off permanently, you understand?” he replied, feeling some knot deep within his chest come undone all at once.
“Understood.” Harry said, and then he smirked into a particularly grand sip of his tea. “Right. Ma- Sorry, Draco- I hate to invite you and then kick you out, but I really have to head off to the Forbidden Forest if I want to have any chance of catching some Toadstool Pixies for the first-years next lesson.”
“How thrilling.” Draco replied, setting his tea down and standing up, still not sure why he felt so electrified. “Well, have a good evening then, ah, Harry.”
Draco left then without further word, willing himself to forget the image of Potter standing there, smile wide and toothy.
-
While Draco believed Harry’s word, it wasn’t until he saw the genuine proof of Jack and Teddy’s newfound tumultuous relationship that he believed him whole-heartedly. A frightened Hufflepuff second year came to him in a flustered mess, telling him to come quickly. He followed her to the first-floor corridor and rounded the corner, wand drawn, to find Teddy and Jack in a heated spat. A crowd of students had formed around them, and as Draco marched closer, he heard their voices raise.
“Fuck you, Jack!” Teddy shouted, stunning Draco with the ferocity. “How dare you say that! Where were you last month then, if you think I’m such a useless git, huh? Too busy with your head up your arse to even see how- “
“I was looking for you all week, you prick!” Jack shouted, face as red as his hair. “After you bailed on me, I kept looking for you and where were you? Kissing up to Professor Malfoy again, right? Because you’re so much better than me and the rest of us, right? We all know you think it, Ted, don’t need to be shy now.”
“I do not! Not all of us are willing to just fuck around like you do, some of us actually care about our grades!” Teddy snapped, hair shifting from an aggressive green to a burnt red. “Whatever! If you’re going to just sit there and bitch about how much I’m ruining everything for you, then I don’t want to ever speak to you again! I don’t know why I even gave you another chance!”
“Boys, boys!” Draco snapped then, walking in between the teenage boys with a wide gesture of his arms. “Enough of this! Both of you, in my office this instant. If I hear one word out of either of your mouths until I say, it will be an instant ten points from your houses, understand?”
They nodded stiffly- both clearly embarrassed- and the crowd scattered, seemingly no longer interested now that Draco had shown up. He marched them both back to his office and took note of their boiling silence, both of them wound so tightly they looked fit to explode. They sat in chairs opposite the other, Jack even going as far to scoot himself further away. Draco closed the door and looked between them, his frown deep.
“Now, I’m not sure what happened, but surely I could expect a pair of fifth-years to behave better than that.” He said shortly. “Would either of you like to enlighten me on just what caused such a scene?”
They both remained silent, eyes cast away and jaws set with determination not to give first. Malfoy had expected Teddy to give in first given his predisposition to bend to his professor’s demands, but it was Jack who spoke first.
“Professor, your pet here seems to think that his studies are worth more than his friendships.” Jack drawled, eyes boring into Teddy’s head. Teddy bit his lip and turned even more away from Jack, arms crossed. Jack gripped the chair’s arms and continued, “He’s been making us all do his dumb research for him, and he doesn’t seem to get that some of us have better things to do than be his intern.”
Teddy whipped his head around then, expression wild. “You agreed to help me! You promised that you wouldn’t get weird about it, and yet, here you are! It’s not my fault you’re taking it so hard! I don’t know why you keep acting like I’m forcing you to do this anyway. I thought you’d like to help because we’re supposed to be friends!”
“Friends don’t skip hanging out just to look up the same things over and over again, Teddy!” Jack snapped. “Friends give a fuck about each other! You don’t Ted, you never have- You just keep putting your nose into books and forgetting the rest of us exist!”
Teddy stood then, face hot. “You don’t fucking get it! I’m not trying to be better than you, I’m trying to figure out how I can heal him! Your dad is alive, Jack, and mine is dead! The next closest thing I have is Harry, and he’s not doing a damn thing to fix his problem, and neither is anyone else! I thought you’d want to help me, since we’re so close, but I guess I’m wrong about that too!” He shouted, hair fading to a dull purple. “I’m sorry, Professor Malfoy. You can take ten points, or twenty. I’m going now.”
The door slammed behind Teddy, sending Draco’s office back into a relative silence. Jack breathed out and leaned his head back, neck relaxed but hands shaking. Draco hummed.
“Well, that was certainly something.” He muttered. “Mr. Weasley, you can go if you’d like, but if you’re interested, I’m going to make myself a cup of tea. You’re welcome to join me.”
It took a moment before Jack responded, and when he sat up, eyes were wet with quiet tears. “Yes, Professor Malfoy. I’d like a cup.” He said quietly.
-
“Half of your soul.” Draco said without preamble. His shadow cast down long onto Potter in the evening light, and when Potter turned around from surprise, Draco couldn’t find it in himself to be endeared. His heart was pounding.
“What?” he asked, eyebrows pinched. “Why are you…?”
“I just spoke with Jack Weasley after he and Lupin got into a very nasty fight this morning in my very office. It appears that he and Lupin are fighting about a certain research project that Lupin has taken on. Do you know what Mr. Weasley said it was?” Draco said, hands balled up.
Harry’s face remained blank as he blinked up at Draco. “No, I don’t. He hasn’t mentioned anything to me. Is he okay?”
“Yes, of course. Potter- Harry- did you know he is looking into fragmented souls? Torn souls, parted souls, people born with two souls in one body- Jack Weasley seemed to believe it was all just a big project to show off. He said that Lupin believes you are suffering from the affects of having only half a soul and that he was going to find a way to fix you.” Draco said quickly, breathing out through his nose, “Teddy seemed to think that no one was going to help you. Now, Harry, can you enlighten me on what the hell is going on?”
Harry blinked again and then frowned. He opened his mouth only to close it a moment later. “Draco,” he said finally, “I don’t- I’m not sure what Teddy is up to. He’s always been smarter and craftier than I ever give him credit for, and by the sound of it, he’s found a new thing to age himself with. I don’t know if you know this, but when he was a first year, he was more of a troublemaker than Jack ever was.”
“I hardly see what that has to do with you missing half of your soul,” Draco snapped. “Harry, if you’re missing pieces of your soul, you need to get help.”
Harry’s expression turned dark. “No, I’m never going back to St. Mungo’s again. I’ve done my time there, and I’ve done my time trying to fix all that is “wrong” with me.” He replied slowly. He paused to take a deep breath. “Draco, all my life prior to Voldemort dying, I had a piece of his soul within mine. By the time it was burned away, I had gotten comfortable with it as a part of myself. I’m not missing pieces of my soul, I’m just missing his piece.”
“What?” Draco said then, blood turning cold all at once. “That’s- that’s not- “
“It’s true. I don’t know how Teddy found out, but I’m sure he overheard Hermione or Ron at least once before. I spent a lot of time trying to heal from it and trying to cope with that… loss.” Harry muttered, looking away. The fading golden sunlight made him look strangely otherworldly. “No one told me that dying again would mean coming back as new person. Teddy didn’t know the old me, but he seems to think that I’d be happier if I wasn’t who I am now. He’s wrong, but he’s also just a boy. I’d think the same thing if I were him. Its easier to imagine that things can be fixed with a straightforward answer.”
“Harry, that’s insane. A piece… of his soul?” Draco breathed. He shook his head and looked away, unable to truly swallow what Harry had just told him. “Whatever the case, I suppose it doesn’t matter if you’re not in immediate danger. I recommend you tell your godson before he loses all of his friends just because he’s hellbent on solving something that clearly is no longer an issue. The Lupin I saw in my office today was deeply upset, and in turn, so was Mr. Weasley.”
Harry’s somber look lifted slightly, and he huffed a little laugh. “Thank you, Draco. I’m sorry you got caught up in all of this drama with my godson. I’ll talk to him tonight. I do really appreciate all you’ve done for Ted. I can tell you really care about him.” Harry said then, facing Draco properly. Draco met his gaze and felt himself frown instinctively at seeing Harry’s mild expression.
“Of course I care, Harry.” Draco said, voice quiet. He and Harry had gotten along so easily now, and he could see just what Neville was saying before. This Harry, for all his stubbornness and his passion that remained, was different than the man he’d known before all those years ago. He wondered if Harry was serious about being happier now. “I expect him to be in top shape now, do you understand? No more of this nonsense.”
“Understood.” Harry snorted. “Good day, Draco. Let’s meet for tea again soon?”
“Sure, yes. Owl me.” Draco said easily, before turning away. He walked back up into the castle, doing his best to stay calm and collected while he passed through the corridors. When he returned his office he closed the door tightly, taking a moment to breathe before he slid down to his knees. Truly, what was he doing?
-
In his continued fit of uncharacteristic behaviors, Draco cancelled his Friday classes. Most students were thrilled initially, but when he showed them their homework, that joy became very muted and begrudging. It wasn’t that he was worried about grading or anything, and truthfully, he didn’t even need the day off. In all honesty, Draco just wanted to read on the front lawn for several hours without being bothered, and after this last week of getting involved in the Lupin-Weasley-Potter hell that was his life now, he thought he deserved it.
He’d spent a blissful morning out in the spring’s sunrise, just him and the trashy Muggle novel that Luna had introduced him to several months ago. He’d put on enchanted sunscreen and everything in preparation for the bright sunny day, along with some tea, a nice blanket, and some papers to grade if his lust for work acted up. It was peaceful and relaxing, almost to the point of suspicion. The students avoided him naturally, no magic required, and not a single teacher would try and question his clearly unprofessional choice of time usage. Not even Neville disrupted his studious picnic, which actually bothered him. It seemed as if all of Hogwarts was working to ensure absolute serenity that morning.
Until Harry appeared.
“Draco!” he called, walking down the sloping grassy hill with a practiced gait. His open cloak billowed behind him as he marched toward Draco’s spot on the hill, face strangely alight. “Guess what?”
Draco didn’t grace him with a response, only quirking his eyebrow up at the now towering figure of Harry next to him.
“I’ve found out what happened between Ted and Jack.” Harry said grandly, expression brightening tenfold. He looked down at Draco’s blanket and seemed to, for the first time, come to realization that he might be intruding. “Right, sorry. Is this a good time?”
“For you, I suppose this timing is as good as it gets.” Draco replied loftily. He was, begrudgingly, curious about the state of his student’s life. He was too nosy for his own good, but he’d long been aware of that lesser trait.
Harry shrugged and sat down in the grass alongside Draco’s picnic blanket, strangely unwilling to cross that particular line. “Well, like I promised, I had a talk with Ted about his research project. He was embarrassed of course, caught red-handed and all, but we got to really talk about his feelings.” Harry said, sounding way too happy for someone talking about a serious heart-to-heart. “Draco, all this time Teddy hasn’t been mad at Jack, he’s had a crush on him. Can you believe it? All this angst, all for a boy, can you believe it?”
Draco blinked at him. “A crush?” he said slowly. Some deep and thorn-wrapped part of his soul shifted as he looked at Harry’s excited face. Oh, if only he knew.
“It makes sense if you think about it.” Harry said, crossing his arms. “They go into this great big fight last summer, both swearing up and down that they weren’t on speaking terms any longer, and then Ted throws himself into solving a big problem all on his own? I figured he was doing some level of escapism with it, but only love makes you act that irrationally. I told him to go for it, of course. Look where hiding and pretending those feelings don’t exist got him.”
“I hope you didn’t come and disrupt my morning just to tell me all of that.” Draco said, doing all he could to appear untouched by the topic at hand. “That sounds like you’ve just encouraged my student to be even more distracted.”
Harry rolled his eyes, smile unshaken. “Oh, he’ll be distracted all right, but at least he’ll be happier. Apparently, everything went well between them both when they talked it out. I hope George is ready for all of that this summer. No one could’ve prepared me for the conversation me and Ted had about the appropriateness of handholding on a first date.” He said with a knowing laugh. Draco’s stomach clenched.
Draco released the breath he’d been holding. Something dark and petulant unfurled deep in his heart. This topic was far, far too close to home for him. “Harry, do you honestly think it’s appropriate to tell me these things? I understand you are his godfather, but you understand I am Teddy’s professor. Why in Merlin’s name do you think I would need to know any of this in the first place?” he snapped.
It was Harry’s turn to blink stupidly. “You care about him.” He said simply.
“That is true,” Draco said lowly, wishing that he could stop the wave of annoyance that was taking over all of his empathy, “for all of my pupils. Teddy shows extra skill and therefore, I intend to nurture that skill as far as he shows interest in learning more. I care for him as I would a teacher to a student, and yet, you naively seem to believe otherwise.”
Harry’s smile faded. He looked at Draco with a heaviness that left him feeling like a boy again, caught in a lie and too stubborn to give in. Draco stared him down, but paper-thin truth of his sentence made him feel embarrassed to his core. Truthfully, he did care for Teddy. He cared to know about what was bothering him, and worse, he cared about Harry. They were a package deal in his mind, and perhaps that was the scariest part: he wanted more. In another life, Draco would’ve been guard-down excited about this new development. He would’ve teased Teddy, joked about it with Harry during their office hours, and maybe even join Harry and Teddy to a dinner at the Burrow just to see them all happy and together at last.
“Right.” Harry said finally. He stood up and brushed the grass from his cloak, expression unreadable. “Right, yes. Sorry to bother you, Professor Malfoy. I’ll be going.”
Without another word, he marched back up the hill, shoulders tense with a familiar boyish petulance that Draco recognized all too well. For all that Neville swore Harry to be different nowadays, it seemed there were secrets to finding that scrappy golden-hearted Gryffindor that only Draco knew. Calling him by his professional title like it was an insult- what where they, fourteen? Draco felt both rightfully guarded and deeply regretful of his words. By the time that Harry had marched himself into the castle, Draco had come around to admitting fault. Draco stood and packed his picnic with a flick of his wand, now too guilt-ridden to return to his planned day of peaceful relaxation. Not even two months ago he would’ve felt justified in his pettiness. Two months ago, he would’ve shut Harry down before he could even finish his sloppy synopsis of his conversation.
He slumped into his office and locked the door, wishing that he could just stop being so magnetically attracted to Harry. Even when his world was ending, when everything was on the line, he couldn’t stop his bleeding heart. Why did he think now would be any different?
He paced back and forth, fingernail pinched between his teeth. There’d been a time, a short month-long window in sixth year, where he’d convinced himself that loving Harry might actually be something stupid enough to try. Harry wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone, and while he had the literal dark lord breathing down his neck and the task of ten men branded onto him like a lamb for slaughter, he let his delusional fantasies free. Harry was all jaded and moody, caught for the first time looking and acting as haggard as Draco had always claimed him to be. No one could understand the stress they were both under, no one but each other. Teen love, right?
Luckily, Draco’s month of insanity was struck down by Harry himself. The scar was still there, if Draco really went looking for it. Like a cat thrown into the icy ocean, he scrambled to the surface of reality like his life depended on it. He supposed it did. He doubled down on his cowardice, just as Harry doubled down on his role of fated savior. He hadn’t reflected on it in years, but maybe they were both just boys being told what to do after all.
Night fell as Draco continued his pacing, arms now crossed as he faced a new wave of feeling. Loving Harry had always been one of his biggest crosses to bear, and he’d always regarded it as such. He just couldn’t get that stupid idiot out of his head, not once in all of his life. From boyish admiration to a schoolboy rivalry to a real and tangible sense of importance in Harry’s life as an antagonist- Draco had always been hunting for his gaze. He naively thought that, when he was sentenced and felt nothing but coldness for Harry at the trial, he was finally free. He didn’t want anything to do with him any longer, and he’d been just fine not thinking about him or what he’d been doing with his new life as the savior of the Wizarding World. Now, the very thought of Harry made him feel warm all over.
Oh, the way he looked when he was teaching the students was something to marvel. The way his hair fell, the way the streak of grey made those old-soul eyes of his glow even more, the way his laugh still held that familiar cadence all these years later- Draco could feel himself getting light-headed. He leaned against his bookcase, heart hammering. He wanted to be in Harry’s life more than anything. He wanted Harry’s undivided attention again, and for the first time in his life, he was his only barrier stopping him. No dark lords, no war, no overbearing father, no pearl-clenching mother, no nosy godfather, and fuck, not even a bitter rivalry. Harry was right there, albeit probably a little pissed about Draco’s words from earlier, and he was all for the taking.
“Draco?” Harry said, startled. Draco, pink-faced and panting, had just burst into his office without even stopping to knock.
“Harry.” He said gracelessly. “I’m- I need to be honest with you.”
Harry looked thoroughly alarmed. “If this is about earlier- “
“Harry, I care about Teddy, and I care that he finds happiness. I care that he doesn’t get hurt by Jack Weasley because he’s always ready to jump but terribly unprepared for the fall. I care that he’s not stressing out over his godfather, of whom I know to be nearly impossible to keep from danger and harm. I know, because I… I care about you.” Draco said, gesturing wildly, unable to look at Harry. He took a deep breath, chest rattling with nerves. “I care about you more than you could ever know, and I just… I snapped earlier because I couldn’t possibly take you taking about teen love like you could ever know the way it controls you and ruins you and makes you a fool.”
“Draco,” Harry started, but Draco continued his stupid ramble.
“I know that we are colleagues now and that this is massively inappropriate, but I just- there’s not a chance I could make it another year keeping it quiet. I’ve loved you for most of my life, can you believe it? Even when you were laying ugly and pathetic on Aunt Bellatrix’s floor, I loved you, and that’s what drove me to lie on your behalf. Even now I can hardly stand our little friendship because I’m acutely aware of all the things unsaid between us, staring with how I can’t seem to go a day without longing for your attention like some goddamn house cat.” He said heart hammering rabbit fast in his chest. Harry blinked at him, ears pink and eyes wide. Draco released an obnoxious sigh, nauseous and resigned all at once. “Go on, Harry. Tell me I’m insane.”
“You’re insane.” Harry said, but his tone was all wrong. He wasn’t roiling with disgust or throwing books at Draco like he’d been bracing for. Harry stood up from his desk and rounded it carefully, like a child approaching an injured bird. “I can’t believe- I’m just- Draco. Are you serious? Do you… have you really loved me for that long?” he said softly.
Draco looked at him properly for the first time since his dramatic entrance and found his gentle expression to be almost more painful this all the Cruciatus Curses he’s endured combined. “I would never behave this way only to lie about something like that.” Draco conceded. Harry leaned against the front of his desk, close and far all at once. He looked like he’d discovered something important, and worryingly, he looked almost thrilled.
“I know, I just… This is a lot to take in.” he said with a nervous smile. “You know, when Ted first told me he was taking one-on-one lessons with you, I was worried that you might be hard on him because of me. He’s not one to brag about being related to me, but I was just so certain that you wouldn’t be able to stand him even being remotely related to me. When you came to me about him, I was shocked to… you know… see how much you cared. I was stupid to think you’d be any other way.”
Draco felt his hackles lower a little as Harry spoke. Harry laughed awkwardly and then ran a hand through his hair, messing up and making it look tragically handsome. “Truthfully, I’ve had a thing for you for years. I don’t know if crush is right. Hermione and Ron called it an obsession once. Whatever it was, I just couldn’t stop thinking of you. I thought it was because you were someone to be concerned about, but I’m old enough now to realize we were both just fighting someone else’s war the way we knew best. Draco, I’m glad I’ve gotten to know you better now that we’re not trapped anymore. I can see now, without Dumbledore and a war and Voldemort’s soul, that I’ve cared for you all this time.” He said, looking away. “I… I could love you, I think. If you’d let me. I’d like to… spend more time with you.”
Draco blinked at the flushed, embarrassed Harry before him, stunned with the weight of what he’d said. That trust, that golden heart, that iron will- all offered to him without much more than a conversation. Years spent dreaming. Nights spent crying over heartache so strong he once worried it might be medically concerning in nature. Fear so strong that Harry would die right there, in front of him, all because he had to play his role as an obedient little pawn. All for this moment, so careful and honest that it made Draco’s eyes water. He reached out and took Harry’s hand in his, holding back a snort at how horridly sweaty Harry was. Harry looked up at him and Draco allowed his giddy smile to break to the surface.