Moments

30. Draco's Moment of Realisation

(1000 words)

It makes sense, when I think about his awful relatives, that Potter would take in Pansy without a second thought. There aren't even enough bedrooms. He just gives Pansy his room and moves into the Kneazlery, claiming that it's his space anyway.

Pansy hides in the bedroom for two days, only allowing Hermione in. Eventually she emerges with her head held high and declares she's keeping the twins.

'I need to get a job and pay my way,' she announces.

And just like that, Pansy comes back from Diagon with the promise of a new job at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes; she's simply asked George. I roll my eyes; some people don't know they're born.

George comes for tea that night. He doesn't often come around. It depends on how the mood grabs him. Seeing George in one of his slumps is when I hit a new level of guilt over the fucking war, so when he comes around and is happy and joking and nearly the old George again, it's like taking a gasp of cold fresh air on a winter's morning and finding it both burns your chest and makes you want to whoop joyfully.

Pansy had told him she's four-months pregnant with twins, and George's eyes shine as he watches her.

'You can't stay here forever,' he comments. 'Harry'll want his bedroom back eventually.'

'No hurry,' Potter says from behind the magazine he's reading.

'Why don't you move into the other flat above the shop? We'll call it part of the employment package. It needs clearing out...'

'We'll help, won't we, Potter?' I say. He won't say no.

'Course. Saturday?'

'We'll be in the shop...' Pansy says dismissively.

'That's fine. We'll crack on without you,' Potter answers. 'Is it furnished?'

'There's odd bits, quite a nice bed...'

'You can have my spare furniture,' I offer.

Come Saturday, I find myself with Potter clearing out the dusty flat. It's mostly old stock, a few bits of dumped furniture, a lot of grime, and a shit load of Doxies. George is right, there's a nice white, iron-framed bed.

We deal with the Doxies and some intensive deep-Scourifying reveals it's in a better state than supposed. The kitchen and bathroom are immaculate.

'We should do the rest up properly,' Potter says. 'I'm sure George won't mind.'

I contemplate the sitting room area and think of my L-shaped cream sofa and white side-tables. 'What about creams and greys? I've seen a really nice oversized footstool which would be more child-friendly for when the twins arrive.'

'I trust you,' Potter smiles softly and I can see the truth of it in his sparking eyes. I ignore that my heart thumps slightly faster than usual.

We make a mad dash to the shops and, when we return, we set to, changing the wall colours, re-sizing my furniture, and arranging the room.

I glance across at Potter just as he's stripping off his hoodie; his t-shirt has been caught up to reveal defined olive-skinned abs and a line of dark naval hair.

And, oh!

I gulp.

Realisation hits me hard. Of course, I've seen Potter naked before, more than once in the corps changing rooms, I know he's lean and fit but somehow this is different. It's...

Attractive... a small unhelpful voice provides.

No!

Hot?

Merlin. I turn away, trying to get a grip on these sudden feelings. I'm stern with myself, perhaps I'm coming down with the flu or something because it's just Potter. He's no different to how he was yesterday, or the day before. I return to hanging the white frames I've brought for above the sofa. I think that Pansy can fill them with photos of the twins as they grow up. I try to distract myself this way, wondering what gender they might be, and what she might call them. I'm not at all wondering what Potter's tensed abs might feel like under my fingertips.

'Bedroom?' Potter says behind me.

'What!' my voice is a little higher than usual at his unexpected proposal.

'What do you want to do in the bedroom?'

'What!' I yelp in a most unmanly fashion, my thoughts immediately turning to peeling off Potter's t-shirt for him.

'You okay, Malfoy?'

I turn around and, Shit! I want my bestfriend, badly.

'You look a bit flushed,' he touches my forehead and I flinch.

I just need a shag, I think. It's been a while, a long while. That's probably it... Just not with Potter.

'I-I'm fine.' I curse myself.

I wonder how long its been for Potter. As far as I know there's been no one since Ginny. They'd tried again after the war but he'd said it didn't last more than few weeks. I suddenly find myself consumed with jealousy at the thoughts of her touching him.

Shit!

I sit down suddenly.

He disappears off to the kitchen area and comes back with a glass of water.

He sits close beside me and I'm overwhelmed by the smell of his aftershave, those woody tones he'd questioned when we were tied... and Merlin, I'm fucking aroused at the thought of being tied to a fucking chair with Potter. And then I'm flooded with memories of us just doing 'mates stuff', out and about but always together, always close, always catching each other's eyes, always seeking each other out, unconsciously touching, slightly flirtatious.

Fuck!

I run a slightly shaky hand through my hair and look at him. He's watching me closely with concern in those expressive green eyes. Colour of fucking forests, I think. Merlin, I want to push him back onto the sofa and fucking mount him.

And I think of that connection he has with me and I really want it to mean something. Then I panic, again. What if he's doing Legilimens now? What if he picks up that I have urges for my bestmate? For my very straight bestmate.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

I stand up with determination. I can get over this.

'Bedroom?' he says. It could be taken as sultry.

'Absolutely...'

'What colours?'

Fuck!

*****