Drarry - Baby Steps

Ninth Step.

Tom, the Cauldron's landlord doesn't question their early arrival or the unlikely friendship they display. He assigns them a table by the window and disappears to prepare eggs and bacon.

"He used to be more talkative, didn't he?" Harry observes and Draco presses his lips together because yes, the war took a toll on every last person they meet.

Sensing too much of the guilt he's so keen to avoid, Harry jumps to another subject: "It seems like us having breakfast has become a tradition."

"Two times in a row is no tradition" Draco relaxes visibly in his seat, "And don't look at me like it's my fault I stumbled across you a second before you were clubbed to death."

"You're saying it's just a really unlikely coincidence?"

"Of course, lucky for you! What else would it be?" When Harry leans back in a suggestive shrug (where is the confidence coming from? He doesn't know) Draco folds his arms: "Come on. I'm definitely not the stalker type."

"Well what type are you?" Harry asks, eyebrows raised.

"The type to suffer in silence."

His reply stuns Harry for a moment. "Wow. Uh, that doesn't sound like a lot of fun? Which girl made you find out?"

Draco can't believe what he's about to say, but he doesn't want to let the opportunity pass as he might not get another: "I've never felt attracted to girls in that sort of way, really." He watches Harry take in the statement and he's sure he can pinpoint the moment where he goes from "Wait, what?" to "Ohhhhh."

"So you're - "

Tom arrives and places two plates between them. Both thank him briefly, but he doesn't seem to care as he shuffles away wordlessly.

"I'm gay." Draco confirms, his insides tingling no less than every time before he told someone. It does get easier, yet stays just as terrifying as the first time. He waits anxiously for Harry to react, his mask of confidence that he perfected over the years concealing that.

"...How did you, like, know?" Harry asks finally, and out of the need not to sound wrong, he adds: "I mean, how does one know these things?"

Draco, who didn't expect Harry to take such an interest, smiles cautiously. "How do I put this? I definitely never felt the same way about Pansy Parkinson the way I did about Zabini Blaise."

"Oh. Okay." Resignation spreads out over Harry's face, like he understands but can't quite relate. He wants to ask more questions, but holds himself back out of politeness and says instead: "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell this."

"You just told me how you met your godfather in a haunted tree. Now we're even." The tension gone, Draco digs into his breakfast with relief.

No, we're not! Harry thinks, this is big even though Draco doesn't treat it this way. He looks at the bacon on his plate, not sure where to turn with all of his questions.

Once Draco finishes his first forkful of scrambled eggs, he clears his throat. "Back in the Great Hall, if I remember correctly, you pointed your wand at me. What changed you mind regarding the personal abandonment of magic?"

With his mouth half-full, Harry bluntly replies: "You, mostly." Why lie? "Besides, I wasn't going to keep it up forever anyway. I just needed ...a little push." He adds, poking his food.

"It certainly would've exceeded the average Potter-level of stupidity to march into the magical ruins of Hogwarts unarmed. The Red Caps are by far not the most dangerous beings residing there now." Draco comments between two bites.

"Hold on, the what? What's a Potter-level of stupidity?" Harry's indignation puts a playful smile on Draco's lips.

"Don't take it personally. Every time you and your friends rushed off to do something reckless and idiotic, me and my friends sorted it into a list from harmless to average to Merlin's-beardscissors-how-moronic-can-Gryffindors-be?"

"How do I not take this personally?"

"Don't look at me. You're the one who asked." Draco shrugs smugly.

"Fine then. Name one example."

"Let's see. When you saved the little French girl from the lake during the Triwizard Tournament and thereby almost disqualified yourself because it never occurred to you that this global organisation with years of experience has a dozen backup plans in case one of the champions fail, that was slightly above average on the Potter-bar-of-stupidity."

"It was a very stressful situation. I did a heroic thing! But okay, name another."

"Turning yourself into my friends via Polyjuice Potion to find out whether I'm the heir of Slytherin in Second Year, that was almost off the charts. It might be a record-holder for most elaborate and imbecile on the list."

"Wait, you found out about that?"

"Not Crabbe and Goyle, no, but I did. You know, I am capable of putting one and one together. I believe that's when the list started."

"Oh my god. You've been keeping track of my stupidity for six years now. That's terrible!" Harry buries his face in his hands and Draco laughs.

"Trust me, my friends got really sick of hearing about it."

Sitting up, Harry's curls fall into his face and he places his elbows on the table, leaning on them. "Not me. Tell me another one."

So Draco does. Their plates are emptied quickly and by the time they are finished, the sun has fully risen outside and the magical clock above the pub's entrance says it's 11PM.

Harry has never enjoyed listening to someone this much, and neither has Draco ever let his words simply pour out for such a long time. Somehow, he feels lighter now.

"And I thought you were just bitching around, doing homework and giving everyone nasty looks. This sounds like you had a lot of fun at Hogwarts, too." Harry still isn't tired of looking at Draco, who beautifully lost himself in his stories, across the table.

"Don't flatter yourself too much. Some of the credit goes to Blaise as well."

"You never really seemed to be hanging out a lot."

"Well." Draco smiles to himself, "The two of us weren't exactly close, were we? So believe it or not, I actually did have a private life about which you don't know that much."

"Yeah, that's a pity. Maybe you'll tell me sometime." Harry averts his eyes, pushing his cutlery around on his plate.

"Maybe." Draco echoes and realises that he wouldn't mind at all. The part of his mind that screams What the hell are you doing, you can't just let him in like that, what if he's going to hurt you? is barely audible any more.

Until now, they were the only people in the Cauldron. But as Tom cleans up their plates, they hear the sound of apparating right outside the door and footsteps approach. Harry turns to look at the door like Draco does, who's wondering whether Harry would have anything against people seeing them together. He holds his breath as the doorknob turns.