Narissa blinks slowly at him, surprised. “I…Are you sure, Harry?”
No, but he’s beoming more sure as he says it. The deisioles i, omfortable and right. “I am.” Theily adds, “If it’s not too imposing.”
Narissa gives him another smile, and it’s a little relieved, and real. “Nonsense, Harry. We’re the ones imposing.”
The & Harry omes to the Manor, it is a week after Drao was released. Narissa is in Sotnd. There are pahe table, overed with temperature spells, aes ahere is also a note in Narissa’s elegant handwriting, telling him to please help himself.
It is 8 i Drao is already in his wheelhair, eyes staring distantly into the garden.
He is looking fuller now, more alive. His heeks have filled and the bak to his skin. Inexpliably, Harry is suddenly very, very relieved that Drao isn’t indisposed enough that he a. Narissa has told him, through the letters that they have started to exha Drao’s spending more aime preseely.
His hair shihe bright m sun and Harry resists the urge to touh.
&s down on the hair aross Drao ahe weirdhe overall awkwardhe situation sink ihis is the first time he’s here without Narissa to talk to, just him and Drao, who’s urre is off iher world in his head.
Drao Malfoy. From Slytherin.
Who lied to the Death Eaters to save you.
When he loses his eyes, he ahe heat of the fmes of Fiendfyre liking his lothes. Dra “DON’T KILL HIM” a grip that Drao had on his waist as they flew above and out of the inferno.
That wasn’t the grip of someoed to serve Voldemort.
That was just the grip of someoed to stay alive.
&urns away, from Drao’s soft hair and the memories of fire.
He piks up his fork, takes a pahe servis it plop on his own.
“Potter.”
His fork drops in surprise. Flushing, he looks up. “Malfoy.”
“You’re…” Malfoy squints.
Harry shrugs nervously. He feels like he’s just been aught doihi supposed to be doing. He supposes that it is weird to suddenly and have y- time enemy in your house eating your panakes. “Yeah.”
Harry sees the moment that Drao onfirms that he really is indeed Harry Potter.
Drao slowly garden. “Is this the Manor?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
And it’s this oion again and Harry’s tense, ened before will repeat itself. Narissa iso help him anymore and Harry wouldn’t know what to do.
But this time, Drao seems to reo he’s seeing with whatever’s in his head, and he visibly rexes, leaning bak on his wheelhair. “e to observe me ihen?”
And Harry realizes that Drao remembers him, remembers a lot more about him, if he’s going to go bak to old habits and his usual snark. He feels unbearably happy at that.
“No, Malfoy, I’m just here to eat your panakes.”
Drao furrows his eyebrows at him, ahe pahe table. It takes a while for him to respond, but his eyes lear and he says, “Get your filthy fingers off my panakes.”
“Well, you’re hem.”
Drao, as he has always doo the halles a haowards the table. It’s slow, but his palm mao nd on the fork. His fingers shake and Harry uands, ang i it’s probably been a while sine Drao used his limbs.
& think his help will be welome, but it’s better than wathing Drale like this, and Harry looks up, but the words die on his lips when he sees Drao’s gaze is vaant agai moving anymore.
All of a sudden, the now familiar seakes hold of him and makes his fingers old. His eyes are rapidly beoming warm ao keep them at bay. A sushes down the lump in his throat ah eases the pain i a bit.
Drao Malfoy isn’t supposed to look like this.
& supposed to be like this.
With another deep, shaky inhale, Harry steps forward and arranges Drao bak in his hair.
He removes Drao’s hand from the fork, and Drao’s fingers are long and soft to the touh, but they’re old, and Harry rubs them with his the blood bak into them. hat it’s his first time touhing Drao Malfoy’s ha handshake during first year. His hahen. Smooth, like it had never done a day’s work in his life.
His hand’s bigger now, of ourse, but it’s alloused, and the o the edge, or sraped, or whatever it is that Drao did with them ihree months in his ell.
& the untouhed panakes and wonders if Drao will get ahem up for him.
&hem up anyway, beause he wants try.