Chapter Text
It started four years after the war.
Ok, let's be real, it started when they were eleven.
However, this story didn't start until four years after the war, when they were twenty-two. Let's catch you up.
After May 1998 Draco spent four months in Azkaban and then eight months at Hogwarts. The day after graduation he left for France and spent most of his time making potions, reading, and seducing pretty French boys.
Really, it was his mother's fault that everything changed. During the last three months of the war Narcissa had reconnected with her sister Andromeda. Consequently, Draco had started receiving mail from Andromeda and Teddy Lupin. It had taken no time at all for Draco to bond with Andromeda, who understood the heartbreak of loving a family that has hurt you. He found himself writing her twice a week just like he did for his own mother.
Teddy on the other hand, had endeared himself to Draco to such a high level that he received far more than letters. Teddy's drawings and pictures were framed and hung the day Draco received them. His letters were kept in a small chest that was warded to protect the contents against fire, and water. Draco sent Teddy two letters a week, several photos of France, toys, books, and a slew of muggle items that fascinated him. Namely, stickers.
So when Narcissa and Andromeda were sick of waiting for Draco to move back home they used Teddy against him. The owl arrived on March 10th, one month before Teddy's birthday.
Along with the invitation Narcissa had sent an advertisement for a potions assistant in Diagon Alley. On its own this wouldn't have been enough to persuade him to return to England, it was the note on the back of the invitation that had secured his presence.
Draco,
I've already informed Teddy that you'll be there.
Yours, Aunt Andromeda
❣️~~~~~~~~~💕~~~~~~~~~❣️
Draco takes all of his things to Pansy's flat when he gets to England. Being back is one thing, going to the manor is something else entirely. She has agreed to let him stay there if he pays the rent, and Draco has already purchased the flat from her landlord. He is Malfoy, he's not going to do anything so plebeian as pay rent. He has his lawyer draw up the documents to sign the property over to Pansy but he doesn't tell her right away because he knows that she will think he's gone soft and accused him of being a Hufflepuff™.
He’s been in England for less than 24 hours before stepping into the foyer of Grimmauld place, careful not to disturb the curtains covering Great Aunt Walburga's portrait. He knew Potter signed over this place to Andromeda while Draco was still in lockdown. Potter told her that he wanted her to have a nice place to raise Teddy and had spent the summer remodeling the ancestral home for them.
At least the birthday party is held on somewhat neutral ground because Draco knows the Golden Trio will be in attendance, along with a pack of Weasley’s. Even with the apprehension, he’s masking he knows he’s made the right decision about coming back home when Teddy insists on showing Draco every single toy in his room, sharing cake with him, and eventually, crashing from the sugar, in Draco’s arms on the plush sofa in the drawing-room.
Most of the guests have gone home. Narcissa, Andromeda, and Molly are still in the kitchen drinking tea and discussing the new changes in the Ministry of Magic policy for muggle trade and Draco finds himself drifting off to sleep with Teddy snug against his chest.
And this, this is the moment when everything starts to change.
“Malfoy.”
Draco opens his eyes to find Potter standing above him, hands stuffed into the pockets of loose-fitting denims, Puddlemore shirt stretched across broad shoulders. Merlin, he’s filled out nicely. Draco attempts to squash that thought and summon his anger but it won’t come. Not that he was expecting it, honestly. He isn’t interested in hating anyone anymore, not after the war, and Azkaban. Instead, he’s left with the underlying pulse of attraction he’s felt for Potter since 5th year and the lack of balance makes his heart beat too fast.
“Potter,” Draco replies with the same even tone.
Potter shifts and pulls his face from a grimace to something that he must think looks more neutral while looking at something just over Draco's shoulder. “Molly, Andromeda, and Nar-” he glances at Draco, blinks, and continues, “and your mother believe that we should make an effort to get along.” He motions to the four-year-old in my lap.
“I’m sure we can be cordial when it’s necessary,” Draco says.
He looks at Draco then, those exceptional green eyes pierce through some of Draco’s resolve, and seals the deal with a soft smile. Something that Draco has never been on the receiving end of from Potter.
“I tried that already but you’re welcome to have the argument with them,” Potter says with a wave towards the kitchen, “if you think you can get further than I did.”
Of course, Draco is not foolish enough to think he would stand a chance against two of the Black sisters and the woman who took out Aunt Bella. In the interest of self-preservation, and that is the only reason he allows himself, he opts to take his chances with Potter instead.
“All right,” Draco says, “what did they have in mind?”
“There’s a cafe down the street. They suggested we grab coffee.”
Draco is thrown by the suggestion at first until his mother practically materializes into the room and swiftly lifts Teddy from his lap. She smiles knowingly and Draco and says, “I will take him to his room. You can come to see him again tomorrow, he’s expecting you to be here in the afternoon.” Her eyes flick to Potter then back to Draco, “Have fun tonight.” With that, she sweeps from the room, Teddy, still sporting the Malfoy hair color, in her arms.
Draco stands, spelling his grey trousers and black button-down free of wrinkles. “All right Potter, lead the way.”
When they step out to the street and start to walk Potter says, “It’s a muggle place.” He says it like a challenge and openly examines Draco for a reaction.
Draco gives him an easy smile. "Then I reckon you're buying because I don't have any Euro on me." It seems like the right thing to say because Potter relaxes and asks Draco about France.
Three hours and a shared order of fish and chips later the waiter approaches with the bill. He's tall and slim with a sly smile and hungry eyes, and he's been flirting with Draco since they arrived. If this were any other night, or if he was in anyone else's company, Draco would certainly take him home. Maybe share him with Pansy. But it's not any other night, and he's with Potter. Potter, who bristles every time the waiter approaches, who speaks to him with a tight smile and glaring green eyes.
Draco is fascinated by the exchange. He doesn't think he's ever felt so thrilled by someone else's jealousy. When the waiter leaves the bill in his hands Draco waits until he leaves to open it. Sure enough there is a phone number written on the paper and a messy 'text me' beside it. Draco's been hit on this way before but Potter clearly hasn't.
"I just can't believe that someone so disrespectful still has a job," Potter says, yanking the bill from Draco's hand to smash in several bills of various color.
Draco's amusement has to be wrangled down and locked away before he can casually lift a brow at Potter and ask, "Disrespectful?"
"I mean he clearly knows you're bent-"
"Bi, actually," Draco quickly cuts in.
Potter goes on speaking as if Draco hasn't interrupted. "but you're with another guy. What if this was a date?"
"Is it?" Draco asks. He knows it's not, he just wants to see Potter squirm a bit. They've had a better time than he ever would have thought possible, but at no point was this a date.
Potter huffs a forced laugh, "I'm just saying if it was that guy would have ruined your chances."
Draco leans back against the cheaply made booth he's been sat in for their time together and looks at Potter. He lets his eyes drop to linger on Potter's pouting lips for a heartbeat before saying, "Has he?"
Potter seems to have lost their thread of conversation because he doesn't say anything at first. He blinks twice before replying, "Has he what?"
Draco feels his mouth curve into a familiar smirk, "Has he ruined my chances?"
They Apparate directly into the living room of Potter's flat and Draco doesn't give him the chance to ruin anything by talking. He grabs the collar of Potter's worn leather jacket and tugs him in for a kiss. Potter is a very good kisser. He walks Draco back until he's pressed against the wall for support. Every fantasy Draco has had over the years is cast aside as second rate when compared to the real thing. Potter's kiss is heated and greedy, and his hands roam over Draco's body, hot as a brand, as though he can't decide where he wants to touch more.
"When did you get so bloody fit?" Potter asks, fumbling with the buttons on Draco's shirt.
"I've always been pretty Potter, you're just oblivious." Draco wants the words to come out mocking but his breath catches at the end when Potter's hand makes direct contact with the skin on his abdomen.
"I think your mother knows," Potter says when he grinds his erection against Draco's thigh. "I think she caught me checking you out."
Merlin.
Draco hooks a finger under Potter's chin and tips his face up so Potter's looking up at him. "Shut up, Potter."
Then Draco drops to his knees and takes Potter into his mouth, worshipping his cock until the only words Potter can say are 'yes' 'fuck' and 'Draco.'