Chocolate & Pastry (Drarry)

Epilogue

The sound of excited children screaming surrounded them, piercing Draco's ear drums. He climbed over the waist-high barrier separating the Quidditch pitch from the stands and crossed the field to where Harry was waiting.

"Are you sure these hoops are low enough?" Draco asked, looking at the highest hoop which stood at eye level.

His face twisted into apprehension, but then Harry leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead, and the tension faded away.

"There are cushioning charms all around the hoops," Harry explained, draping an arm of Draco's shoulder and pulling him in close. "Two metres is the maximum height these brooms go to, so you can be utterly certain these kids are going to fly that high anyway."

Draco glanced over at the crowd of eight years olds huddling excitedly in the centre. One of them had got their hands on a spare broom and was already trying to levitate it. His red curls whipped around his face in the wind, and his cheeks almost matched his hair with the exertion of how hard he was trying to make the broom jump into his hands.

"You have a point," he said drily.

"Did you want to stay for the kick off?" Harry asked, smiling up at him. "Or is this just a quick visit?"

Warmth bloomed in Draco's chest, curling slowly through his whole body. "I can stay."

Harry led the way over to the centre of the pitch. The grass crunched beneath their feet; it smelled as if it had been recently cut, and the scent mingled with the rich scent of hot food that carried over from where the mums and dads were hovering in the stands.

As they drew near, Draco fell back to the edge of the crowd, smiling at the few children that looked his way. Most of them only had eyes for Harry—bright, eager, reverent eyes.

"Right!" Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around at the small crowd of children at his feet. There were around fifteen of them.

His entire demeanor had changed. His voice was gentle, filled with laughter even when he wasn't joking. The children gazed up at him, and despite a few giggles and whispered conversations, they listened. Pretty impressive considering the ages ranged from around six to ten.

"We've got a few new faces today," Harry said, smiling down at them all. "So we might start back at the basics. Who here has ridden a kid's broom before?"

Several hands shot in the air while one or two voices piped up that they'd ridden a real broom.

"Who can tell me the first safety rule on a broom?"

"Tuck your feet in!" one kid yelled.

"Don't aim for anyone!" added another.

"Don't whack anyone with it!"

Draco watched Harry fight back a laugh.

"An excellent point, though I'm a little worried it was even an option. Yes, you're right—the first rule is not to fly straight at anyone. The charms are strong and the ground is soft, but it's not a good habit to get into. What you want to do is fly alongside someone. Always try to come up next to them. We'll have a few accidents—we always do—but that's all right because what are we doing?"

"Trying our best!" The kids yelled back.

Draco could spot the new faces in the crowd. They were mostly quiet, trying to follow along with the answers a beat behind everyone else. One little girl looked like she was about to be sick.

The crowd surged to their feet, and Draco took his cue to go back and join the parents waiting on the side lines. One mother was standing on her own, her hands clutched around a steaming cup of coffee, so Draco stood with her.