Canary Creams and New Yellow Paint - (DRARRY)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sometime in the early evening, Granger pushes her work away from her and sighs. The fire is cracking brightly, but it's the only energy in the room.

"Well, I'm done for the day," she says, stretching her arms over her head. "Anybody else?"

"I thought you didn't take breaks," Parvati replies.

"We've been at this for days. Weeks, really. We'll work better if we take some time to relax."

"Couldn't agree more. Suppose we could get some dinner out of Kreacher?" Parvati asks Harry.

"It's doubtful."

Ever since Harry picked him up, the elf has been making himself scarce.

"We can make do on our own, I should think," Granger says primly.

They all crowd into Harry's small kitchen and begin exploring. Weasley puts the kettle on, Teddy unearths a few tins of peaches, and Rolf goes digging in a cabinet under the sink.

There's a clanging of pots and pans as the others get to work on dinner. Draco helps Granger chop vegetables while Blaise experiments with roasting dry spaghetti noodles directly over the hob, and Scorpius tries gallantly to stop him.

Lavender and Parvati are on their own mission. They giggle amongst themselves as they cream together butter and sugar and crack eggs against the bowl. Parvati swipes a finger covered in batter across Lavender's nose and Lavender breaks out into a smile so bright her face practically glows.

Luna hums to herself as she adds spices to everything, seemingly at random. She shakes a bit of pepper over Rolf's head, and when he spins around in surprise, she smiles daintily.

He sneezes.

Harry, for his part, is watching all this with restrained amusement. His eye sparkles as it follows his friends around the room. Draco doesn't blame him. He wonders why he hasn't bothered getting to know half these people before.

Maybe things couldn't have been the same then, though. Maybe these people needed to grow just as much as he did.

Draco turns back to chopping, but it's not long before he feels Harry's presence behind him. He doesn't turn. "Planning to benefit off our free labour, Potter?"

"Maybe." His voice is closer than Draco expected, right next to his ear.

Draco stalls. He tries to think of anything to say, but can't.

As Granger squeezes past them to dump her vegetables into a pot, Harry steps even closer to get out of her way, and he uses the opportunity to peer over Draco's shoulder, his hand coming up to rest on the counter beside Draco's own.

"That potion talent must come in handy, huh?" The heat from Harry's body radiates onto his back.

"Mm."

Draco turns so that they're chest to chest, and then he slips around Harry towards the other end of the kitchen. When Scorpius leaves to help Teddy find some skewers — for whatever mysterious purpose — Blaise nudges him in the arm.

"What?"

"Nothing. You looked cosy. Glad to see you're making open-minded acquaintances. There are very few wizards who would try to dry hump you in a kitchen full of their friends."

Draco chokes on a laugh.

When everyone has finished their projects, they clatter back to the sitting room. Weasley stokes the fire, keeping it burning brightly and casting warm shadows over everyone.

Granger sighs, pleased with herself.

Draco takes another one of the horrendous kebabs Scorpius and Teddy created. They skewered peach slices in between bits of the cake Lavender and Parvati made and, surprisingly, they're the most appetising thing in front of him.

He takes a distracted sip of his tea and winces. Weasley clearly allowed Harry to help. It tastes very strongly of lemon and smoke, and he's fairly sure the milk inside has curdled.

Behind him, the portraits are having some kind of argument. One threatens to curse another until they fall out of their frame. It's all very impassioned.

He watches Lavender and Parvati move a magnetised button back and forth across Harry's squid container. The squids chase it eagerly, and Lavender and Parvati laugh.

Rolf is talking with Scorpius, telling him all about the books he's written, and how he made his discoveries, and, honestly, Draco's rarely seen his son so enthralled.

When Blaise finally conks out on the sofa — snoring enthusiastically — and Luna is slung over the back of the chaise longue with the ends of her hair brushing the ground, and Granger and Weasley have resorted to whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears, he decides he'd better head to bed.

Harry looks up as Draco passes, and Draco thinks of their moment in the library, when Harry had called for Kreacher. Had he known before then that the elf would be able to help them out? If he had, what made him stay with Draco?

"Goodnight, Potter."

"Night."