Confisio Suprema

Chatting with Malfoy isn't just that easy

Harry was thinking of escaping meeting with Malfoy at the last minute. He looked for Ron, but he hurried home to his younger son. Harry couldn't believe it. Was he really willing to spend an evening at Hogsmeade with that arrogant idiot? How could it have happened?

He sat with his long-time enemy at the Three Broomsticks, sipping the wine Malfoy had chosen. Of course, they had nothing to say, overwhelmed by the awkward silence. Harry felt untidy compared to Malfoy; he hadn't even managed to change his clothes after the action with Aurors. He waited for his companion to say something ironic, but Draco also remained silent.

"You wanted to talk about the children," Harry reminded him as the silence became unbearable.

"Yeah, maybe. I was surprised that you came to the teacher-parent meeting. Didn't Ginny have time?"

On the one hand, Harry didn't want to reveal too much of his privacy. On the other hand, the specific question allowed him to say at least something meaningful.

"I have custody of Albus; he decided to live with me after the divorce."

Draco paused.

"Are you alone with Albus? Well, we're both the same way. Astoria died, and I was left alone with Scorpius too."

"I'm sorry," Harry muttered. He didn't wish this on Malfoy either.

"You don't mind that the boys are friends?"

Harry shook his head.

"Maybe I'm a little annoyed that Albus is in Slytherin."

"Your Gryffindor arrogance," Draco snorted. "It's been twenty years. Things have changed!"

"I guess you're right," Harry sighed.

And the silence again. They never get along with Malfoy. Harry preferred to drink again. A few drinks later, he found the situation more tolerable. His tongue was loose, and he was talking about the latest match in Quidditch. Malfoy was listening intently, but he obviously knew nothing about it. This guy is a total ignoramus, he has no insight at all. Harry talked and talked, and after a while, he was babbling nonsense and laughing drunkenly.

"You're drunk, Potter," Draco said in disgust. "What shall I do with you?"

"You got me drunk," Harry said reproachfully.

"That didn't really give me much work."

"And don't call me Potter. My name is Harry."

"Okay, Harry, now listen to me. We will apparate to my place, but you have to hold me tight. I don't want to be responsible for your splinching."

"Do you want to kidnap me to Malfoy Manor?"

"Well, sure. I'd rather leave you here."

"Then why don't you?" Harry teased.

"I'm not the bastard you think I am," Draco whispered. Why does he even care what that loser thinks of him?

He held him tightly in his arms. Harry, slightly shorter than him, rested his head on his shoulder. It completely freaked Draco out. It was too intimate. He didn't want Potter so close. His hair tickled his face. He smelled something strange – maybe a burning? Draco couldn't concentrate on the apparition at all. Merlin, what is he doing? Hugging drunken Potter and smelling his unwashed hair? That's really disgusting... What would his father say to that? The thought of Lucius reliably brought him back to reality. He finally concentrated and moved them both safely to the entrance of Malfoy Manor. He helped Harry stumble into the nearest bedroom.

"Why are you taking care of me?" Harry asked.

"You're the father of a little boy, and I can't just leave you on the street like this."

"You've changed," Harry said seriously.

"Maybe." It warmed Draco's heart that Potter had improved his opinion of him. The remorse for what he did to him and his friends during his studies at Hogwarts would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"Good night," he said, turning to leave.

"Stay here with me." Was he imagining it, or had Potter really said that? A biting remark about impossibly drunk Gryffindors was already on his tongue when his eyes met a misty emerald gaze.

Draco slid into the wide bed and stretched out next to the other man. Harry hiccupped, yawned, and fell asleep in no time.