Blackberry Jam (A Drarry FanFiction)

Chapter Thirteen

   "Why don't you pop the oven on?" Mrs Figg suggested at the kettle began to boil. She gave Harry a nudge and a wink, snapping him from his brief melancholy. "Let's get those scones nice and warm, so they make the butter soft."

Harry's eyes widened in excitement, delighted they had one whole pot of jam saved for this special occasion, just like he had wanted earlier. He nodded eagerly, and over the next several minutes the two of them focused on getting the tea and scones arranged on Mrs Figg's best crockery.

"And this is Harry's kitten, isn't it Harry?" Draco announced as they came back into the room with a loaded tray each. Draco had both their pets on his lap, where they were pawing clumsily at each other.

"His name is Treacle," Harry told Mrs Malfoy proudly, happy to come back and be included in the conversation.

"He is a delight," Mrs Malfoy assured him, stroking the ginger fur carefully. "Now you and Mrs Figg-"

"Arabella," Mrs Figg interrupted, and Harry took a moment to realise she was telling Mrs Malfoy her first name. He frowned. He wasn't sure even he had known that.

"Arabella," Mrs Malfoy amended with a nod. "You must both now sit, and I shall serve." Mrs Figg looked like she might protest, but Mrs Malfoy held up a finger. "I shan't tolerate any objections," she said firmly. "You allowed me to catch up with Draco whilst you prepared us our lunch, now we are all together and I have reclaimed some feeling in my fingers, I shall make myself useful."

Mrs Figg looked liked she might still have more to say, but Harry dropped down next to Draco so their legs were pressed together, and scooped up his kitten. "Thank you Mrs Malfoy," he said, putting the matter to rest.

Mrs Figg sighed, and finally sat down too, cane propped up by the side of her armchair. "So Draco," she said. "Did you have no idea your mother would be popping down today?"

"None!" he enthused. "What a good surprise hey?"

"Are you going to stay long?" Harry asked, trying to stop himself bouncing up and down as Mrs Malfoy finished with the cups of tea, and began to prepare the sliced up scones. His mouth was positively watering as he watched the golden butter melt.

She gave her son a knowing smile, but he just looked back, wide-eyed and hopeful. "I'm to stay a month," she announced. "All the way until the new year."

Draco jolted so violently he almost dislodged Shelley. "Are you serious!" he cried, throwing his arms around her, making her laugh.

"Yes sweetheart," she said, patting his back. "I'm staying at the bed and breakfast, Father paid for it as my Christmas present."

Draco twisted violently and flung his arms around a rather surprised Harry. "I'll have almost all my whole family here for Christmas!" he practically shouted in his ear, and Harry laughed and hugged him back.

A warm feeling flared through his insides. Did that mean Draco thought of him and Mrs Figg as family too? The idea brought a lump to his throat it was so nice. "That's brilliant," he said enthusiastically.

"Not just me though," Mrs Malfoy said to Draco. "You'll have your own room too at the hotel, with your own bed!" She pinched her son's cheek fondly. "You've both been such troopers sharing like you have, you can both enjoy a little extra space for a few weeks."

"I am sorry about that-" Mrs Figg began, but Mrs Malfoy was quick to interrupt.

"Oh no my dear," she said anxiously. "I would never mean to slight the arrangement you have here, if I've been reading Draco's letters correctly I feel both the boys see it as a marvellous bit of fun." Harry nodded cautiously. This was skirting dangerously close to their 'not talking about the bed' rule. "The selfish truth is that I've missed my son dreadfully – last Christmas in particular was quite horrid, being all alone. So I'd just like to make up for a bit of lost time."

Mrs Figg picked up her cup of tea. "That sounds perfectly reasonable to me," she said before taking a sip. "And that way both boys can snore to their hearts content and not wake the other up for a change."

"I don't snore!" they both cried in chorus, but Mrs Figg grinned and winked at them.

"Anyway," said Harry, deciding if Mrs Figg had gone for her tea, he could help himself to a scone. It was still warm in his hand, and he moaned a little when he bit into it. "We'll still see each other at school every day," he mumbled around the crumbs.

Mrs Figg scowled. "Manners Mr Potter," she grumbled, but by that point Draco had already snatched up his own scone, dripping with butter and jam, and both of them were fluttering their eyelids and groaning in contentment, so the admonishment was quite lost on both of them.