Drarry - Baby Steps

First Step.

Doorbells. It's been three days since Harry last heard those, a week since he's answered them. It had been Hermione with an armful of diapers and a homemade cake in the depths of her handbag. He'd even invited her in over a cup of tea, but You know I would love to stay longer. There are just so many placed that need working on right now, everyone's in pieces. Are you sure you can handle this by yourself? Because I'll be there if you reach out. You look like you haven't been sleeping either. None of us have. A whirlwind of miserable looks and knitted baby presents. He doesn't remember for how long they talked at his door, only that Ron wanted to come, too. But it's a lot for all of them right now. I'm sure he'll be around.

And as he gets up, the small bundle that had fallen asleep on his chest now in his arms, he dares to hope for just a second that maybe his best friend has found his way here. But the silhouette he sees through the blurred glass isn't tall enough to be Ron, and not nearly ginger enough.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, exposed to the cold once the door is open.

The pale man facing him straightens his coat's collar in an uncharacteristically self-conscious demeanour. "I was nearby."

"Nearby? There are no wizards in this part of London." Harry attempts to keep his voice free from reproach and fails. He clenches his jaw.

"There are wizards in every part of London."

The only reason Harry doesn't smash his opponent's nose in for showing up, for not looking the way he feels, for trying to converse, is the sleeping baby on his arm. With his throat as dry as sandpaper he replies: "There used to be."

Seeing the pang of guilt on Draco Malfoy's face before he overplays it isn't nearly as satisfying as Harry thought it would be. Draco looks down at the small brown-haired being in Harry's arms. "This must be-" "Teddy." Not a muscle twitches in Harry's body as he keeps his stare fixed on Malfoy. Malfoy, who doesn't have the right to pronounce his godson's name.

"He looks a lot like you."

"I think he's just adapting, because for now I'm all he has. He was much paler when he was born." Why am I telling this, Harry bites his lip, to him of all people?

"You're right. There even is a hint of your scar on his forehead. See?" Draco takes a hand out of his coat's pocket and Harry intuitively pulls away, shielding Teddy with his own body.

The look on Malfoy's face is piercing and reproachful for a second - You think this badly of me? - and filled with unsatisfying guilt, even shame in the next.

"I didn't mean to..." Harry's words stumble and fade as he realises, no. He hadn't noticed the faint copy of his scar on Teddy's smooth, olive forehead. He hadn't noticed how much the baby resembled him. Because every time he looked at his godson, he saw them. Remus. Tonks. Fred. Sirius. Those who hadn't made it home. Those who'd left a child behind for him to take care of. His reaction to Malfoy's harmless gesture now seems insulting and harsh. Harry wishes he could undo that split second, is there a charm for that?

"He's probably getting cold" Draco remarks with a glance at the baby, "You've been letting the breeze in for a while now."

"Yeah, yeah, you're - you're right. I should..." Harry pulls Teddy tighter against his chest, stroking his fragile head. Why didn't I think of that? Why are the most obvious actions so overwhelming all of a sudden? "On another note, do you want to come inside?" He interrupts himself. Draco looks startled, but hurries to nod. "Yes, sure. Thanks." And of course he was expecting to be invited in when he rang the doorbell, but that doesn't stop a wave of - is it relief? - going through him as he steps across the threshold and shuts the door behind him. "Neat apartment." He says. The hallway is mostly empty and its walls are bleached white, not seeming unfinished but rather finite in some way.

"You want tea?"

"Please don't bother because of me."

But Harry's already on his way into the kitchen to put on the kettle. Again, Draco stands in the doorframe while Harry waits with Teddy in his arms, his expression empty. Draco tries to get a good look at him without making his staring too obvious.

"Go ahead, then." Harry straightens his back, eyeing Malfoy.

"Excuse me?"

"Go ahead and mock me. The chosen one's looking like an overworked single dad living in the most boring, muggle-ridden neighbourhood. He can barely take care of himself. Should he be supervising a some-months-old child? I know that's what everyone who's come here thinks." The kettle splashes out hot boiling water onto the kitchen counter. Teddy blinks his small, green eyes. Harry stares at Malfoy across the room with tired eyes.

Then he turns to open a cupboard and single-handedly lift two mugs out while holding a yawning baby with his other arm. When he nudges the cupboard door closed with his head, Draco takes a quick step forward: "Let me help." "I'm fine." "Just tell me where the teabags are."

"... On your left."

Draco opens the drawer next to him to retrieve two and place them in the mugs, then filling them with hot water.

"That's not the point of me offering you tea." Harry remarks dryly. Teddy squeals amusedly.

"I never meant to intrude." Both mugs in his hands, Draco brings some distance between him and Harry, who reproachfully inquires: "Then what did you mean to do, Malfoy?"

The harsh pronunciation of his last name throws him back to Hogwarts and the countless hours spent scheming and slandering, all because of the person standing in front of him now.

"I want to help." Malfoy answers truthfully.

But Harry scoffs and walks past him, leading the way into his living room. "I've got friends if I wanted help; friends who aren't racists who stay in my company solely thanks to my family's reputation." He sinks down in an armchair, placing a protective hand on Teddy's head. Draco takes a seat opposite Harry on a grey couch.

"Touché. Let me rephrase it, this is a peace offering."

"A peace offering was me pulling you from the flames in the Room of Requirement. Also, you throwing me a wand. You've got your peace, even tea..." Harry nods at the mugs Draco placed on the coffee table, "I'd say that's about the most you can get."

Silence spreads out in the room, Harry's disappointed glare still focused on Malfoy.

Who was fiddling with his hands. Who still had his coat on.

"When will Miss-Weasley-future-Potter be home?" Draco manages to sound lighthearted. As soon as he looks up again, he realises this must've been the wrong thing to ask. "Don't answer that. I didn't mean to -"

"She is home. It's not here." Harry interrupts, pushing his round glasses further up his nose and tousling his already tousled hair, "Because when you've got a brilliant, beautiful girlfriend who just this once needs you to be there for her after her family was ripped apart in a war you're responsible for, you tell her you can't have her around." His lips form a thin line and he swallows hard.

"First of all, you are in no way responsible for the - " Draco starts, yet again to be interrupted.

"I shouldn't have told you. It's none of your business."

Maybe it would've been easier on both of them had Harry just snapped. Instead, his silent resentfulness clogs the room like a poisonous fog. Draco breathes it in cautiously.

"Harry..." Saying his first name has a strange, exotic taste, "You do know you're allowed, you're entitled to give yourself a break and put yourself first for once."

"Yeah, okay." Even though Harry's voice is barely more than a whisper, the sarcasm within speaks for itself.

"You're taking care of a baby, running a muggle household all on your own..."

"Don't tell me what I'm doing." Harry mumbles.

"Fine. Tell me what to do instead." Draco sits up straighter.

LEAVE, Harry thinks about answering. Is that really what he wants? "Your, uh, tea's getting cold." Embarrassed by his final reply, he stares out the window, missing how Draco looks at him with - ... is it bafflement? - and takes one of the mugs.