Drarry - Baby Steps

Third Step.

The breeze outside is cold and Harry tries pulling his jacket shut across Teddy in the sling. Luckily enough, the shop Draco meant is only a short walk away from the apartment. It's tiny and stuffed and a grumpy lady with a bit of a beard is smoking in the back. When she hears the bell ring as they enter, she shuffles behind the counter.

"Whaddaya need?" She asks in a raspy voice.

Draco steps forward confidently. "We'd like some firewhiskey, please."

"I got Jack Daniels if that's what ya mean?"

Confused, Draco turns to Harry, who jumps to his help: "Yes, exactly."

"How many?"

"Two...uh, two bottles please, ma'am."

After eyeing the breathing bundle on Harry's chest judgementally she turns and grabs two bottles of Jack Daniels from the shelf behind her. Draco reaches out to take them, but she pulls back. "Uh-uh. First, I'll need to see some I.D., lads."

Indignantly, Draco stands up taller. "Do you even know who you're talking to, ma'am?!"

She stares him dead in the eyes. "Maybe I would. If the two of you showed me some bloody I.D.!"

Harry pushes himself between her and Draco, who seems to be fuming, and puts a wrinkled ₤50-note on the counter. "We forgot our I.D. at home, but you're uh welcome to keep the change."

For a moment she glares at him, then at the money suspiciously. Draco watches awkwardly, keeping his mouth shut.

Finally, the lady takes the ₤50-note and shakes her head, muttering something about a spoiled generation under her breath. When neither Harry nor Draco move, she makes a shooing motion. "Well, off with you buggers! It's all yours!"

Draco inhales sharply, but before he can speak up Harry grabs both bottles and pulls Draco along towards the door, saying "Have a nice day!" as the shop owner utters something sounding a lot like "Damn gay irresponsible underage drinkers!"

Furiously, Draco spins around, but Harry yanks him back, giving him an intent stare that says "Leave it alone."

Outside of the shop Draco shrugs Harry's hand off. "Why do you let yourself be treated that way? She was just a filthy muggle, she had no place to -" "That's racist." Harry interrupts, his eyes flaring, "And besides, her being disrespectful doesn't mean we have to act the same way, that'd just lead to everyone being mean and offended. She didn't know better. So what? That's not worth ruining everyone's day over."

Even though Harry's shorter than him, Draco feels like he just shrunk to the size of a Niffler, and he keeps silent in spite of his desperate need to lash out in order to come out on top of this conversation. He wants to protest, she was a despicable person, deserving to have a lesson taught, but then he pictures Harry sneering: "But people don't get what they deserve, do they? Do you deserve to be here with me after so many of my friends have died?" Knowing that it's his subconscious talking and that Harry probably wouldn't say such a thing makes him feel no less like he just took a punch to the gut. He can't bear to look up at Harry.

After a moment of oppressive silence, the black-haired boy inhales softly. "It's getting cold and dark. Let's head back."

They get moving lethargically until Harry adds self-consciously: "I didn't mean to scold you."

Still not looking at him, Draco shakes his head. "You were right to, I'm sorry."

"Let's just forget about it, yeah?" Harry offers, wanting nothing more than for the guilt between them to be gone.