Drarry One Shots

3. Stubborn Fools

Draco stood at the window in the spare room staring out at the storm that raged in the night. After another two weeks, the heatwave had finally broken and was now replaced by severe thunderstorms that were pushing north across the country, accompanied by flash flooding on the lower lands where rivers were bursting their banks. Outside, the trees were fighting with the gusting winds and Draco regretted ever cursing the hottest and sunniest July on record for the UK. The blustering noise rattled the windows violently and Draco was sure he wouldn't sleep that night despite his fatigue.

There was enough ambient light to see a huge chestnut tree surrender to the gales with a huge splintering crack. It seemed to lift impossibly in the wind before creaking abnormally as it pitched across the high orchard wall, felling Victorian red bricks beneath its weight with catastrophic finality. The thunderous soul-shaking noise could have stirred the devil in the depths of hell and Draco was sure the foundations of the Manor shook.

In the large bed to his left, Harry flinched in his sedated sleep.

Draco turned to his patient, ignoring the sinking feeling that his morning would require searching every meagre money pot he had to find the cash for the repairs. Instead, his gaze drew over the sleeping man. As it was, Harry remained undisturbed.

It had been a fight to get Harry to agree to sedation after the operation, but with the storms, Draco couldn't risk him leaping out of bed again, ready to defend the world from the will of the gods. After seven years of living with the injury, Harry's body had adjusted somewhat incorrectly so Draco had carefully vanished the patella but he'd also had to meticulously reposition and hold the quadriceps tendon and patellar ligament before the Skelegro started its magical regrowth of the bones. That part of the operation had been a success. However, this next stage was far more precarious and Harry's leg was in a splint because the kneecap had to regrow and set in the correct position, which meant absolutely no leaping out of bed and putting weight on the leg. And then weeks of precise physiotherapy would follow to ensure Harry's leg muscles supported the new kneecap correctly.

The wind howled beneath the eaves as the bedroom door creaked open slowly and Scorpius stood on the threshold looking scared. He ran to his dad and threw his arms around his waist.

'What was that?' he whispered.

'A tree falling in the storm,' Draco said in as carefree a voice as he could manage. 'Look, you can just see its silhouette in the darkness. It's fallen across the orchard wall, that's why it was so loud.'

He wondered if the rest of the household had stirred too. The House-Elves or his mother. She sometimes took Dreamless Sleep Potion—a lasting aftermath of the war and then losing her husband after nursing him through his decline.

Minerva McGonagall had left a few days earlier. She still visited every day with Poppy, but she had commitments up at the school preparing for the new academic year and had to go back to Scotland.

'Did it wake Harry?' Scorpius asked in hushed voice.

'No, he's slept through. He flinched a bit but didn't stir beyond that.'

'Do you think he gets scared too?'

Draco snorted softly. 'It's probably overridden by his innate need to protect people and keep them safe.'

'He makes me feel safe...' Scorpius said quietly. 'Even in the storms. Is it the same for you, dad?'

Draco didn't respond but thought that yes, there was something about Harry's presence in the Manor that was distinctly reassuring. He put it down to having company after years of loneliness in Paris and then back in Wiltshire but Draco knew, deep down, it was more than that.