1000 Days of Harry Potter

Day 792

Draco knocks on the door to Grimmauld Place before promptly letting himself in. "Harry? Teddy?"

There's no sign of them anywhere in the house, and no food preparation going on in the kitchen, which is strange since Harry is usually busy putting the finishing touches on dinner when Draco arrives on Sundays.

A shout from outside finally gives him an indication as to where they might be.

"That was excellent, Teddy! The way you feinted to the right and then threw it through the middle? I almost didn't see it coming!"

The garden behind Grimmauld Place isn't very big, but Harry has clearly magically expanded it for their Quidditch practice this afternoon, as well as Warded it against prying eyes. He's also Conjured a set of Quidditch hoops, and is on his old Firebolt, diving to fetch the falling Quaffle.

"Next time," he flies back up to pass the ball back to Teddy, "keep your eyes focused on the right hoop until the very last second before you throw. The Keeper won't know what hit 'em!"

Teddy is on his own broom, beaming and looking at Harry with admiration, basking in his praise and gentle coaching. Draco's heart warms at the sight. He leans against the door frame and watches them, unnoticed, until Harry tells Teddy they'd better get some water and go inside.

They land, reaching for the water bottles next to the case of Quidditch balls, tossing their brooms aside. Harry puts away the Quaffle, ignoring the Bludgers fighting against their restraints, and the innocent-looking golden Snitch. He closes the case and opens his water bottle, tugging his sweaty tee shirt over his head to wipe at his face, squirting water into his mouth and then unscrewing the top and pouring the rest over his head, shaking his black curls out like a dog, aiming for his godson.

"DAD!" Teddy laughs and holds up his hands defensively as droplets of water hit him.

Harry grins and does it again, just to make Teddy screech.

His back is to Draco. The first thing he notices is how much better Harry's recent injury looks. The scar curves around his side, bright pink and slightly raised against his copper skin, but mostly healed.

And then, inevitably, his eyes are drawn to the black dragon tattoo that covers most of his back. It's bigger than Draco expected, and, like Ginny had said, absolutely beautiful. It stands out against Harry's skin and moves elegantly as he watches, shifting from an alert position to curl up, spanning from shoulder-to-shoulder when it does, and apparently, fall asleep, blowing puffs of smoke from its nostrils as it does.

"Hey," Draco says, his voice coming out hoarse and strange.

Harry jumps. "Draco! When did you get here? It's not—wait, what time is it?"

"Nearly six," Draco laughs.

"Oh, Merlin, I didn't wear my watch," Harry runs a nervous hand through his wet hair and Draco watches his bicep flex, the way the water runs down his bare chest... "I'm so sorry! I completely lost track of time," Harry says. "I'll go order some takeaway and then Teddy and I had better each take a shower before dinner."

"That's fine," Draco manages, forcing his gaze away from Harry's body. Teddy is watching him closely. Too closely.

"Go put your broom away," Harry tells Teddy. "And then go take a shower while I place the order. What do you want for dinner?"

"Chinese!" Teddy takes his broom upstairs with him and after a few seconds they hear the shower turn on.

They make their way inside, Harry tucking the case and his broom into a closet off the kitchen, and then he places the order for their food by Owl while Draco continues, and fails spectacularly, to avert his eyes from the tattoo on his back.

The dragon wakes and blinks at him with yellow eyes, stretching her wings and settling into an upright position.

"I um, I like your tattoo," Draco blurts.

"Oh," Harry turns, a blush rising high on his cheeks. "Er, thanks. Ginny made me get it. I lost a bet with her."

Draco decides not to tell him that Ginny already told him all about it. "Knowing Ginny, I'm surprised she didn't make you get something embarrassing."

"Me too, honestly," Harry laughs.

Draco lets Harry tell the story of the "dragon tattoo" rumor from Sixth Year from his point of view, which pretty much aligns with what Ginny had said, but with the addition of her joke about Ron having a Pygmy Puff on his person that has Draco clutching his stomach, gasping for breath as he laughs.

"That's amazing," he wheezes as Harry laughs along with him. "Merlin, she's hilarious. I can only imagine the shade of red on Ron's face...was he puce? I bet he was puce. Please tell me he was puce."

"Probably," Harry chuckles. "Now that the food's ordered, I'd better go shower, too. You okay alone down here for a few minutes? I'm sure Teddy will be down soon."

"'Course," Draco says, still fighting to breathe. "I'll be fine."

He watches Harry's back until he disappears from view to go upstairs before collapsing into one of the kitchen chairs and covering his face with his hands.

Circe.

That bloody tattoo is going to be the death of him, he's sure of it.

* * *

"I got through the first round of applications for the Healer Program at St. Mungo's," Harry says as he passes a glass of wine over and sits beside Draco.

"Not surprising," Draco grins. "I'm sure they were thrilled to get your application."

Harry grimaces. "Probably. I still have to pass the entrance exams, though. I'm not sure that I can..."

Draco raises a skeptical eyebrow. "Are you joking? You'll do fine. You've been an Auror for the past few years. A relatively competent one, as far as I know," he teases, and Harry rolls his eyes at him. "Which subjects do the exams cover?"

"Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, and..." Harry swallows hard. "Potions." He sighs and takes a large gulp of wine. "You're right, though. I'm not too worried about Transfiguration or Charms. I used them a lot as an Auror. And I just need to study up on Herbology, I did okay there in school. But you know I've always been pants at Potions." His gaze drops to his lap.

"Have you?" Draco asks pointedly, inclining his head.

Harry flushes bright red all the way to the tips of his ears. "Sixth Year doesn't count, I was cheating—"

"I'm not sure you were."

"What do you mean? I was using Snape's old Potions book, I was following different instructions—"

"Did you ever notice that Snape never had us work from our books?" Draco cuts him off.

"I...what?"

"We never worked from our books until Slughorn took over. Before that, we only ever used them for research for our essays. In class, Snape always put the instructions on the blackboard. Technically, you had access to Snape's special instructions for five years before you ever used his old school book..."

Harry stares at him, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging slightly open.

"So, what made the biggest difference in Sixth Year?" Draco asks thoughtfully. "Was it easier for you to follow the instructions when they were in the book on the table beside you, as opposed to on a blackboard in a muggy classroom that probably fogged up your glasses and made it hard to see? Or was it having an instructor who wasn't hellbent on making you look and feel like an idiot at every turn? A combination of the two, I'd imagine."

"I...I hadn't...I'd never thought about it that way," Harry shakes his head in disbelief. "I don't know."

"Snape was a complete git to you," Draco says carefully. "No professor should ever treat a student that way. I thought it was hilarious at the time, but looking back...I shouldn't have. I'm sorry, it wasn't funny."

Harry shrugs and brushes the apology aside. "It's okay. We're past that now."

"I'll help you practice before your exams. I'm sure you're better than you think," Draco says gently, watching as Harry's expression transforms from concern to pure relief.

Harry gives him a grateful smile. "Thanks, Draco."