Cassiopeia Lily Malfoy (Harry X Draco)

Chapter 12

The next few months were the happiest Harry had been since those brief, shining weeks with Ginny in sixth year. He, Cassie and Draco went on trips on the weekends, visiting strange, remote parts of England that Draco informed them were historically significant: ancient pagan barrows, medieval battle fields, crumbling manor houses where pivotal betrayals had taken place. Cassie would run wild, eagerly telling Harry half-false facts she had learnt in her homeschooling with Draco, who would gently correct her.

In the week, they all ate dinner together every day. Draco slowly began to relax around Harry. Most of the time, he was funny and agreeable, and only sometimes did a subject arise that caused him to close off. Blaise visited often, although Pansy did not. She and Draco went out by themselves, because she still didn't like to be around Harry. Ron and Hermione came over as well.. Draco got on so well with Hermione that it barely mattered that he and Ron still eyed each other warily, like feral cats in an alleyway deciding whether to fight.

"It seems to be going well," said Hermione, one evening, after Cassie was in bed. Draco was having drinks with Stanislaus, which Harry tried not to think about too hard. It was difficult, because he had by now met Stanislaus, and knew how handsome he was.

"Yeah," he said. "I really think Draco is starting to settle. He seems happier, most of the time. I'd still like him to quit his job, but he doesn't want to feel dependent, which makes sense. But we've been having a lot of fun together."

"...I meant, the plan," said Hermione. "The press. They seem to have believe that it's a real marriage."

"Oh," said Harry. "Yeah. Yeah, I reckon you're right."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other,

"What?" asked Harry.

"Are you sure you're not falling for him, Harry?" asked Hermione.

Harry sighed and called Cassie's name. There was no answer. He cast a muffliato, just in case. He and Draco had both developed the habit of checking for her before they spoke about anything important.

"Yeah, maybe a bit," he said, once he was sure she couldn't be listening. He hoped it was a believable understatement.

"You should be careful," said Hermione. "You can't just casually date him, Harry. Think how complicated a break up would be. And you're not very nice to him when you sleep with him."

"I was eighteen! I was working through war trauma! Obviously I wouldn't bring up his father during sex now."

"Look, Malfoy's all right, yeah?" said Ron. "And you and he and Cassie have a good thing going.

You just don't want to mess it up for a quick shag, you know?"

"Unless you're serious about him," said Hermione.

Harry didn't answer. That was the thing he avoided thinking about at all costs: how serious was he? How serious was Draco?

It came up again, a few days later. Harry had continued with his daily gifts, although they varied wildly in how expensive they were. Not that this seemed to make any difference to Draco, who glowed with pleasure just as much when Harry brought him flowers as he did when Harry gave him a racing broom. It was Saturday, and because it was the first warm evening they'd had all winter, Cassie and Draco set up tables in the back garden. Cassie was doing a water colour portrait of Blaise, and kept
chiding him for talking.

"Mouths are very hard to get right!" she said.

Draco was writing Goyle a letter. Harry nudged his shoulder playfully.

"Do you want your gift?"

Draco put down his pen, frowning.

"This has got to stop sometime," he said.