On The Wings of A Dragon

9. Regret

Harry made his way to the familiar black doors at the Manor, knocked twice and waited for them to open.  It was Tinkle who welcomed him back, saying it was good to see him again.  Harry smiled at the elf, and said the same.  Tinkle asked him to follow, and they made their way to a tea room, which was a soft lilac in color.  Draco and Narcissa were sitting in armchairs, waiting for their guest to arrive.

He stood in the doorway, just watching them.  Dressed in light blue tight fitting jeans, with black shoes and a belt, and a simple white T shirt, outlining his very muscular chest.  He finished off the look with a black leather jacket, the collar propped up.  He sighed and stepped into the tea room, and when both Malfoys looked up at him, he smiled his famous smile.

"Good morning Narcissa", he said.  He looked at the blond and repeated, "Good morning Draco, it's good to see you both".

They both rose from their chairs, and it was Narcissa that shook his hand first.  "Thank you for coming Harry", she said with a smile.  He made his way towards Draco, and held out his hand, waiting for him to take it.  Only Draco decided that now wasn't the time to play nice.  Looking at Potter's hand, he sneered, "Can you still tell the wrong sort for yourself Potter?".

Harry swallowed, and voiced his thoughts.  "I deserve that".  

"And yes I can, but you don't quite strike me as the wrong sort anymore Draco".  There was a silent interval, Harry with his hand held out, and Draco with both his hands in his pants pockets.  Just before he drew his hand away, Draco took out his hand, shaking Harry's hand with a tight grip.  Letting out a breath that he didn't even know he had been holding in, Harry was grateful.

He took the seat that was offered, and while Narcissa poured them tea, he looked around the room.  It was beautiful, filled with soft colors, the curtains a shade darker than the lilac trimmings, flowers on the table, with scatter cushions on all the couches and chairs.  A plush carpet under his feet, he felt the warmth that the room was providing.  Not the same Manor that he had seen during the war.

An uncomfortable silence ensued, because nobody knew what to say or even how to start the conversation.  How to break the ice.  Sipping his tea slowly, savoring the sweet taste, he turned his attention to Draco.  The man he had come to visit, and perhaps get to know.  

"Harry", said Narcissa, breaking his thoughts.  "I don't mean to be rude, and I don't want you boys to think funny of me, but I will be leaving shortly.  I have been called by a dear friend that needs my help, and I cannot let her cope with this 'thing' of hers alone.  Would it be all right if I joined you two at another time?".

Harry smiled while Draco tensed up wondering if this had been his mother's plan all along.  But when she looked at him, her face was serious, and he knew that there really was a friend who needed her.  He smiled at his mother, and it was him who answered, "Of course mother.  I'm sure Potter and I won't be killing each other today.  No matter how much we want to".

"You and Harry don't want to kill each other Draco, of that I'm sure.  But if you do decide to do that, please do it outside, so there will be less of a mess", she offered with a laugh.

Harry's laugh resounded in their tea room, and Draco loved hearing it.  "We'll be fine Narcissa, truly", he answered.  

She smiled at his laugh and noticed that Draco's demeanor had also changed since the golden boy had arrived.  

"Very well then.  Draco, I will see you later, and Harry, enjoy your visit", she said, rising again, and leaving them to talk alone.  And if truth be told, she  was going to take her time with aiding her friend.

When she had left, it was just the two of them again.  Neither one of them knowing what to say, but Harry knew he had come for a reason.  He took a breath, and just as he was about to tell Draco about his regret at not taking his offered hand in first year, the blond beat him to it.  

He had seen how fast Potter had drunk his tea, and said, "You always drink tea out of a cup Potter, no matter the circumstances".

Harry frowned and looked at him.  He was drinking tea out of a cup.  Draco could see the confusion on his face, and told him, "The other day when you were here, you drank tea out of a mug.  Only barbarians do that.  Not surprising though, you being one and all".

"How do you know I had tea in a mug?", asked Harry ignoring the insult.  Draco knew he had to keep his straight face while he lied to the savior.  "I saw the dirty mug in the kitchen after you had left", he stated.

"Oh", replied Harry.  

Silence settled around them once more, but only for a while, when they both decided to talk at the same time.

"What exactly are you doing here Potter?", asked Draco

"Draco, I have something to tell you", said Harry.

Harry took another deep breath, and waved his hand, telling Draco that he could speak first.  He placed his empty cup and saucer on the tray, and waited for Draco to talk.  Only it seemed that Draco wasn't going to say anything.  So Harry went ahead and answered his question anyway.

"What am I doing here?  Well, I thought that I would come and see how you were doing after the trial.  No offence, but you didn't look like yourself that day, and I mean I can totally understand that you weren't.."

"You don't understand anything Potter.  Get on with it", he spat.  

Harry nodded and continued.

"I wanted to apologize to you.  To tell you that I regret not taking your hand, but you must know that I did it for a reason.  You were being a prat", he said, and when he saw Draco trying to make excuses, he carried on.  "Don't deny it.  You know as well as I do that we were both young and stupid, and that's why I'm here.  To ask you if you would consider starting over.  Accepting my apology and be friends", he finished.

Draco looked at him and swallowed.  He looked away at the intensity of those green eyes, that held so many emotions in them.  Friends.  Did he want to be friends with Potter.  Not sure of how to answer that, he looked back at them, and he thought he saw tears swimming in Potter's eyes.  Maybe he really was sorry.