We Open at the Close (Drarry)

The Nature of Hawthorn

As May faded into early June, Draco thumped downstairs to start preparing breakfast. He paused mid-step when he saw Andromeda and Teddy dressed and ready to go out somewhere.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"London," she said, pushing the stroller towards the front door.

"London?" asked Draco confused. "You never said anything about going out. I'm not ready yet."

"You're not invited," she quipped, then rolled her eyes at Draco's affronted expression. "We can't have you accompany us if we're shopping for your birthday present, can we?"

"Oh," said Draco, feeling embarrassed. "You don't have to do that."

"I want to," she assured him. "There's not much for you to do today— housework's done, dinners in the fridge. We won't be back 'til late, so just have a nice day relaxing. That's an order."

"Okay," said Draco surprised. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she huffed pushing the pram out of the front door and marching down to the bottom of the garden, Draco following suit.

"You're not Apparating with Teddy, are you?" he asked, a jab of panic rising in his chest.

"Don't be ridiculous!" scoffed Andromeda. She pulled the front gate shut in front of Draco raising then her wand into the air. There was a loud bang and the triple-decker knight bus screeched to a halt at her feet. The sliding door creaked open and the conductor stepped off to help Andromeda with the pram.

"Leaky Cauldron, please," she said.

Andromeda waved goodbye to Draco before the bus pulled off just as suddenly as it had appeared. Draco stood at the bottom of the garden in nothing but his boxers, unsure of what to do with himself. Just then there was a loud popping sound, and Harry appeared at the Apparition point. He stared at Draco, mouth slightly ajar before Draco realised he was standing practically naked in the garden. He felt naked under Harry's intense scrutiny, and something warm and tight blossomed in the pit of his stomach. He crossed his arms over his bare chest nervously, doing little to cover himself.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" he demanded.

Harry seemed to snap out of his trance then and stuttered, "Uhh, breakfast." He raised his hands, brandishing a large, brown paper bag. "I have breakfast. For us."

Draco smirked. "Good, I'm bloody starving. I suppose you better come in."

He turned and marched confidently up the garden path with the air of a man who often wandered around his front garden in a state of undress. Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from the firm arse clad in tight, black boxers as Draco rolled his hips as he walked up the garden path.

Surely that wasn't deliberate , thought Harry, chasing after him.

"Go in the kitchen. The kettle's just boiled," said Draco before heading upstairs, Harry's eyes following him until he disappeared out of sight.

Harry felt something hot flutter in his stomach, and embarrassingly, further south. He hurried into the kitchen and began concentrating very hard on brewing cups of tea for everyone and plating up their breakfast. By the time Draco returned, Harry had composed himself again and had three cups of tea sitting on the table along with a selection of pastries and sandwiches. Draco was clothed this time, wearing grey sweatpants and a black tank top. He plopped down in his seat and took a cup of tea.

"Cheers," said Draco.

He took a sip of tea, but Harry kept staring at him. Perhaps stranger than seeing Draco practically naked was seeing the perpetually immaculate Draco in such casual attire. The tank top showed off Draco's athletic build, and the sweatpants sat low enough on his hips that a sliver of pale skin from his toned belly was on show. Harry began to wonder why he was taking notice of these minor details when he realised that Draco was looking at him inquisitively.