Where The Sun Drops | drarry post-war

eighteen | confessions

Draco titled his head to one side, considering. "I could leave," he mused. "I do have a life outside of you-"

"A death outside of me."

"Alright, just for that, I'm staying," the ghost snarled. "Vile fucking brat. I've half a mind to kick off and make you look like even more of a fucking lunatic than you already are. They'll have you sectioned and on the psych ward by 2pm, you can forget about my mother."

"Don't!" Harry responded too quickly, and inwardly kicked himself for the note of desperation that he knew rang loudly through the word. He softened slightly, forced himself to sound calm. "Please."

Draco, ignoring him, drifted to the side of his bed. With one lazy sweep, the vase of chrysanthemums on the bedside table collided with the ground and shattered into a thousand fragments of glass and petals.

"Temper, Potter," Draco tutted. "Temper, temper."

A second vase, empty this time, followed suit, and then a picture frame crashed to the floor with an identical tinkle of glass.

"Malfoy!"

"Keep saying my name like that and watch what happens."

And just like that the door flew open, and there, like a fresh breath of spring air, was Narcissa.

"Harry!" she said, hurrying to the bedside. She didn't kiss his cheek, but looked as though she might like to. "I am checking you out this minute, I came as soon as I could!"

"Literally now?" Harry frowned, glancing again at the clock, which was now on the floor.

"Time is money, darling," Narcissa shrugged. "Why waste the former when you've got lots of the latter?"

She followed his gaze; Harry watched her take in the rest of the room's damage. Without asking any questions, as if she had done it a hundred times before, she reached into her purse and pulled out a significant amount of money to lay on the table.

"That should cover it," she said simply.

***

By the time they had gathered Harry's things and got back to the Manor, Harry noticed that Draco's whole demeanour had changed.

Instead of aggravating Harry and staying right in his face the way he normally did, the boy was reserved, quiet, with an odd expression on his face that Harry didn't quite understand.

As Narcissa served him tea (with a shot of Firewhiskey to get his strength up) and biscuits and sandwiches, Harry found himself unable to enjoy her company the way he usually did, and instead kept glancing at the clock, desperate for the time to come where it would be least weird for him to slope off for a rest on his own.

Luckily, Narcissa herself was the one who suggested Harry go and get some rest.

"Your body had a terrible shock today, sweetheart," she said, and a maternal expression that was almost painful to look at settled into her face.

"I've made up Draco's room for you this time."

Harry's eyes widened at that. "Really, Narcissa, that's not necessary-" he started, but she was already shaking her head.