The arrangement

POV Isadora

How to describe the birth of a feeling? This moment when everything rocks in our heart. Is it a succession of small emotions, of affinities which are gradually linked, or is it a unique moment, brutal, irreversible?

A touching neck, one morning, after the shower? A warm smile, a warm smell, a little woody, when we cross in the bathroom? A bed that I redo with pleasure, telling me that he put his head there? A glass he gives me, with complicity, on the terrace, before sitting down to talk?

This feeling, I did not see it coming, not even wished.

But when it appeared to me, in the light of a summer, I knew that it would be useless to fight. Because this man was at the heart of our relationship, for a very long time already. Since forever, no doubt.

oOo oOo

The first time Harry entered our mansion, it was a mystery to me.

A distant legend, a hero who had signed the loss of the Malfoy family long before. A man I wanted to consider as a mere acquaintance, for the occasion. Nobody important.

When Harry entered our Manor that day, he was the father of my son's best friend.

Draco was not happy about his coming, not at all. It did not worry me, Draco did not want to see anyone. Never.

He lived in his "laboratory" with his potions, which he abused regularly, day after day, night after night.

A past that did not pass.

I have long believed that I would heal him, at least help him. In vain.

All my youth, all my strength, all my love have never been enough to keep ghosts away. One of those ghosts was called Harry, I already knew it confusedly, even though I did not suspect his real role in this story. Our history.

This weekend with the Potters did not like Draco, but I did not want to say no to Scorpius, who was finishing his first year at Hogwarts, and wanted to invite his friend Albus. A year that had been difficult for him, I knew it. So when my son looked at me with his big gray eyes on the station platform, I did not have the strength to say no to him. And Ginny was so simple, nice. She too wanted the happiness of her son.

Everything was played out on this station platform, no doubt, when I allowed a ghost to resume flesh and life in our history. But everything was always played on a station platform, between them, I think.

A place that should be forbidden to the nostalgic.

In retrospect, I realize that fate has begun to unfold during this weekend, in spite of us. That we started a play thinking to play another, naively.

Because the infernal machine was put in place, silently, without our knowledge.

The friendship of Scorpius and Albus, who would become a great Love. The hatred of Draco and Harry, who was a great Love.

A dramatic play that Ginny and I have nicely set the scene, thinking well. But the elements of the set were so sparse, at first, that one could not suspect the outcome in the end.

oOo oOo

The first time I had a doubt about the real feelings of my husband and Harry was at dinner that night. When they stammered about the last time they saw each other. Their explanations were confused, and their disorder visible. A disorder that did not look like Draco.

A suspicion that was confirmed when, for the first time in years, Draco stuck against me that night. When his hands rested on me, impatiently, when he kissed me as he had never kissed me before.