Draco's POV
"Come on, Malfoy," Harry whined; he'd been begging me to tell him what McGonagall and I had talked about all afternoon, "you're killing me with the suspense." He sighed dramatically.
I'd been expertly avoiding the conversation, using Teddy's cries for attention, or the washing-up from dinner, or the weird creaking noise the cupboard made that needed fixing as excuses to be whisked away when he asked again and again. I knew that eventually he'd stop asking, he'd eventually get the hint that I didn't want to talk about it, and he had been pretty much perfect when it came to respecting my boundaries, but that wouldn't mean that he would be okay with not knowing. He'd still be irritated, just silently.
"Whatever it is, you can work it out," he started, sensing my unease, "you're the smartest person I know. You'll figure it out."
In real time, I watched him realise what he said, be suitably horrified, and then panic-whisper, "Don't tell 'Mione I said that you are smarter than her,"
That made me smile, and I stage-whispered back, "You know she isn't here, don't you?"
My attention was immediately drawn away by the brawl happening on the living room floor. Paul McCatney, now much bigger than when I had first got him, had decided that Teddy was the most fun that a playmate could ever be and similarly, Paul's claws had not dissuaded Teddy's attempts at cradling the cat in his little arms.
"Teddy, he'll hurt you!" I chastised, and swept him up and onto my hip, checking him over for and cuts or scratches. When I decided he was okay, I set him up at his little table with colouring books and pens so as to give Paul some peace and quiet for a little bit. It was a pointless endeavour, the cat immediately darted back over to the boy to terrorise him some more. I simply sighed.
Harry laughed and drew me towards him in one fluid motion, far too graceful for the man I'd come to know and love.
"You're so tightly wound," he observed, massaging my neck with his forehead rested against mine. Our height difference wasn't anything to wrote home about, only an inch or so, but Harry always found increasingly creative ways to bring me down to eye level.
"I'm always tightly wound, Potter," I smiled thinly, unable to release the tension built up in me.
"More than usual then," he wasn't having any of my rubbish today, it would seem, "I know how to make you relax." The grin spreading across his face was mischievous, but not lude, so I allowed myself to be curious.
"You'd better not be canoodling on company time, you two," the harrowing voice of my aunt called from the hallway as she peered through the open door at us. I was immediately embarrassed.
"Hey," Harry said, jovial as ever, "so it's not just Connie that says 'canoodling'!"
"I was more concerned about the 'company time' part," I attempted at a jibe, "should we expect a payslip from you, Andy?"
She laughed as she kissed us both hello, and immediately heading for the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. I followed her through while Harry stayed with Teddy and the cat.
"You're back early," I prompted.
"Yes, well, I'm getting on a bit now dear. Can't stay out boogie-ing like I used to,"
I laughed at her choice of words, so very on brand for her but completely inaccurate given the fact that I was sure she absolutely could go out boogie-ing all night if she so chose to.
"So what's got your wand in a knot, my dear?" She hadn't given any indication that she knew I was bottling things up, but she'd clocked on anyway.
Knowing that resistance was futile, I gave in immediately, "I think I know what I'm going to do, now."
YOU ARE READING
Cheers, Potter.
FanfictionAfter the Second Wizarding War, Malfoy found himself alienated from the majority of the school; his old friends just irritated him, all of Hogwarts' students (besides a few salty Slytherins) hated and feared him, and the school he'd once called home...