1000 Days of Harry Potter

Day 854

Two weeks later, Draco is stocking the shelves in the Apothecary. His hand shakes, clinking a few of the bottles together, and he stops and forces himself to take a slow, deep breath. It's Sunday morning and the shop is closed, allowing him to work in solitude.

It's for the best, he tells himself. Teddy is undoubtedly having fun with his grandmother, and Draco himself has been in a foul mood for days. Being alone for a few hours is definitely a good thing for him. Unfortunately, that also means being alone with his tumultuous thoughts, with no distractions to numb the pain.

Harry has been avoiding him. In fact, he hasn't seen Harry once since Ginny's birthday. He'd owled over the last two Sundays, excusing himself from Sunday dinners with Draco and Teddy without explanation. He showed up in the papers with Derek the next day each time, however, so it wasn't hard to figure out where he'd been. If Harry had been out to make a point, he'd made it.

But Harry hasn't said anything about not being able to come this evening yet, and Draco is starting to hope he might actually show up. If he doesn't, there's only one more week before it'll be his turn with Teddy, and Harry will have to come over, at least for dinner.

Draco thinks vindictively that it'll be much harder for Harry and Derek to shag every night for the next month while Harry has Teddy, and then chides himself for the childish thought. So Harry has decided to be a stubborn, selfish prick; that doesn't mean Draco has to stoop to his level.

Still, even as he thinks it, Draco feels a pang of longing that infuriates him. Because even though he's frustrated and angry with him, above all he just misses Harry. He misses their conversations, and the casual way Harry touches him, and how easy it had been between them for so long. And part of Draco hates himself for mucking that up, even though all he'd done was speak a truth that Harry hadn't wanted to hear. It all feels so unfair, and he wants to scream. But instead he continues his work carefully stocking potions ingredients and trying not to fret about seeing Harry later that night.

* * *

When he's finished, Draco stops to eat lunch at a local Bistro on Vertic Alley and tries not to think about the fact that it's one of Harry's favorite places. He knows he's brooding as he sits at a table in the corner and glares down at his food as if it has personally offended him, but he can't seem to stop, so he just embraces the anger for the time being.

On the plus side, it keeps anyone who might have approached him or spat the words 'Death Eater' at him under their breath away, so part of Draco is grateful.

One person, however, doesn't seem to have been intimidated by Draco's scowl. The man stops at the end of the small two-person table and asks, "Can I sit?"

Draco looks up in surprise. He's attractive, this person. He's older than Draco, although it's difficult to tell by how much. He's clearly fit, and well dressed, and his face is lined in the right places: the corners of his eyes, around his mouth. His eyes are bright blue and smiling. His jawline is sharp, and his hair is grey at the temples, but otherwise full and dark.

"Draco Malfoy, right?" The man asks, smiling gently when Draco tenses. "No, I didn't mean...I just recognized you. I um, I knew your mother. At school. Has anyone told you that you look like her?"

"Rarely," Draco says warily. "I'm usually told I'm the spitting image of my father."

The man tilts his head to one side, looking closely at Draco's features. "I suppose I do see a lot of Lucius. You have his coloring, his hair, his nose, his eye color, his chin...but Narcissa is there, too. In the more subtle details of your face—the set of your eyes, and you most certainly have her mouth. I imagine if you smiled it would be an exact replica of hers."