Ghosts of What We Used to Want (A Drarry Fic)

Part 7

Draco woke up in his bed with something pressed against him. This was not the usual way his mornings went and so it was with great trepidation that he opened his eyes to take in his surroundings. It only took a glimpse of messy black hair before Draco remembered everything from last night. Draco must have fallen asleep before Potter had.

With a jolt, Draco remembered their sting operation. He grabbed Potter's wand and cast a few spells to determine where his feather and the suspect were. Still at the tent in that damnable forest. Well, that was good at least. A tempus charm told him it was only nine in the morning. That would give him some time before Luna's to go into the office and ask for another team to take over surveillance. And time for a good breakfast. He probably shouldn't let baby Potter subsist on junk food.

He slipped out of bed, carefully disentangling himself from Potter's fist. Then he set about cooking a full English. It was a bit much for Draco, but he looked forward to surprising baby Potter with so much food. He was almost done cooking when the door opened and Potter came into the kitchen.

"Mr. Ghost?" he asked hesitantly.

It was a ridiculous nickname and Draco felt equally ridiculous for already feeling fond about it. "Morning, Potter," he said, turning to give the child a smile. "I've got breakfast cooking and we'll be able to eat soon."

"Okay, what do you want me to do?"

Draco, who was coming to learn that most things baby Potter said needed more context, asked, "How do you mean?"

"What should I do to help cook?" Potter asked, again with a this-should-be-obvious look.

Draco sighed. "In this dream you don't help cook. Do you want orange juice?" He probably shouldn't offer tea, at least at the strength Draco brewed it. "Er, chocolate milk?"

Potter's eyes lit up and Draco had his answer. Draco set the trappings for chocolate milk in motion as he dished up everything else on a plate for Potter. Potter stared at it with big eyes as Draco put the plate together.

"This is for me?" Potter asked in awe when Draco said as much.

Draco nodded and directed him to the table. It was extremely gratifying to watch Potter just savoring the sight of his plate piled high. Then Potter went straight for shoving the steaming sausage into his mouth.

"Wait wait," Draco said. He also almost bit his tongue off at the forlorn look Potter gave him. "You'll burn your tongue," he said by way of explanation. "Maybe start on the beans and toast until it cools."

Potter stopped looking like he was going to cry and Draco turned back to the kitchen with relief. He had made an absurd amount of breakfast. It was partly in response to Potter's near-worship of food. The other reason was that he was hoping to bribe Luna, Pansy, and Greg's goodwill when they visited later that morning.

Draco served himself a little of the food and then floated it over to the table along with his and Potter's drinks.

Potter was systematically making his way through the food like a starving man. Which wasn't even a simile at this point, Draco supposed.

"There is plenty of food," Draco told the boy. "And we'll eat again with Luna in less than two hours. You can have as much of the food as you want."

Potter glanced between Draco and the overloaded stovetop and nodded.

Hopeful that Potter would stop acting like his food was going to disappear, Draco tucked into his own breakfast. It didn't take long before Potter had inhaled all of his food and was looking uncertainly over towards the food in the kitchen. Draco had piled Potter's plate pretty high and was rather surprised that Potter had been able to eat even that much food. There couldn't be any more room in Potter's stomach, no matter how big his appetite was. Draco nudged the chocolate milk towards him instead.