Home Is Where The Heart Is (A Drarry FanFiction)

Chapter One

   Draco knew he was dawdling, but he couldn't muster up the energy to feel guilty about it. He'd already stopped off for a coffee from one of the many Starbucks along the walk between the tube and his destination, and then he'd purposefully taken the long way round because he told himself the weather was beautiful and it would be a shame to waste the scenic route.

But now, here he was, empty coffee cup in hand as he stared up at his aunt's foreboding four story town house in Clapham, trying to think if there was anything he could do to get himself out of this.

That, finally, prompted a guilty conscience at how selfish and unfair he was being. It wasn't that he begrudged Aunt Andy for her broken leg, far from it. He was actually quite fond of his mother's oldest sister (but to be fair, anyone was better than Bellatrix). He just wasn't used to coming to visit her on his own, let alone taking care of her whilst she was under orders for strict bed rest as she recovered.

But that wasn't the real reason he was hovering on the first step that led up to the front door. The real reason was he was scared.

He sighed, and rolled his shoulders. "Honestly Malfoy," he grumbled to himself as he trotted up and fished out his key. "What's the worst you really think can happen?" He cringed and chose not to answer himself.

He let himself through the second interior door and into the lobby. To his left was the sitting room and then the dining room, but he couldn't ever remember a time where either room had been used. Instead he headed towards the stairs on his right that lead both up and down, his heels clicking on the polished marble as he reached for the banister and made to ascend to his aunt's bedroom on the next floor.

But then a clatter came from downstairs that made him pause. "Hello?" he called.

The clattering stilled, but now he was paying attention, Draco could just make out the faint sound of music travelling upwards, as well as a couple of other indefinable noises. "Hello?" a man's voice drifted up to greet him, and Draco was instantly on alert.

He marched back along the entrance hall and jogged down the stairs into the lowest level of the house, which had a couple of storage rooms, but mainly boasted the open plan kitchen and rec-room that led through French doors into a hundred foot long garden.

What it did not normally contain was a dark haired man wearing glasses and holding a spatula up like he wasn't afraid to use it. "Who are you?" Draco snapped, wishing he had something to hand other than an empty coffee cup. As it was, all he could offer was to stand and threaten the man with a good telling off if he was robbing his aunt's house.

"Who are you?" the guy demanded right back, which Draco thought was a little presumptuous.

Either man was spared answering though as thundering footsteps met their ears, and Draco turned just in time to see the blur hit him before he had a rambunctious three year old attach himself to his leg.

"Dwaco!" the bundle yelled at an excitable pitch. "Nanny didn't say you were coming, are you staying for dinner, Hawy's making nuggets, he's the bestest cook ever and he doesn't even make me eat the bwoccoli, oh Dwaco I'm so happy you're here!"

Draco looked down in astonishment at his second cousin, the earlier fear he had been trying to quell threatening to bubble up. He never had any idea what to do with this flurry of hyper-activeness that, for some reason, always insisted on attaching itself to his leg. He usually relied on his mother to peel the child off at this point and work her magic, but with her being in the Cayman Islands he guessed it was down to him.

"Uh," he said, and didn't move.

His rescue came in the unlikely form of the dark haired man, who was apparently perfectly fine diving down and scooping up the boy into his arms. "Is this Prince Draco!" he cried, settling the child on his hip, a goofy, overenthusiastic look on his face as he feigned reverence. "The one I've heard so much about?"

Draco winced, embarrassed that his pet name had been divulged to this admittedly very handsome stranger.

Teddy nodded, practically using his whole body to do so. "Pwince Dwaco and Auntie Sissy help Nanny with her leg and Auntie Sissy gives me baths and weads me stories and Prince Dwaco works in an office with computers and art and is weally clever."

Draco wasn't sure his lowly position at an advertising agency qualified him as being really clever, but he felt a flare of warmth towards the boy all the same. He didn't seem so scary if there was someone else around who knew what they were doing.

The other guy looked about the same age as him, early twenties at most, but he was familiar with Teddy in a way that suggested he knew exactly how to handle the three-year-old. "Is that right?" he gasped. Teddy nodded again, and stuck two fingers in his mouth. Draco's mum was always trying to stop him doing that, but Draco himself didn't really see the problem. He'd grow out of it eventually, and when he was sucking on his fingers it meant he wasn't jabbering nonsense that left Draco flailing to figure out its meaning.

"And, er," he said, not used to addressing the child directly. "Who's this? Another Prince?"

"No!" giggled Teddy and swatted at Draco even if he was too far away to reach him. "This is Hawy."

That, apparently, was enough of an explanation as far as the toddler was concerned.