Chérie, parchments and quills

Chapter Five - Faults of alliance

"Potter?" Draco frowned at Harry across the small, two-people dining table. Harry's eyes snapped into focus, meeting two questioning coin-grey ones.

He'd asked Draco how he was keeping, what had made him move to France and then come back to England? Draco had explained; the animosity and hatred both he and his mother had faced - after the war, was the most deciding factor in them leaving the country. Harry understood that, but then Draco had mentioned the night Albus dumbledore was murdered; whatever Draco had said after that fell upon deaf ears - Harry was lost thinking about that night.

Harry thought about sixteen-year-old Draco Malfoy, and the fear on his face back then as he lowered his wand and refused to kill the headmaster - about to accept protection. He thought about the way Draco was now as a thirty-year-old adult.

Having temporarily forgot that Draco was still in the room sharing a coffee with him, he remembered how Draco had looked on his broom the other day for comparison to that awful night. Draco's hair was no longer suffocated under oils or gel, and his platinum-blond hair hung freely - perfectly even, and it almost glowed under the bright sunshine. Harry thought, it made his messy black hair look atrocious in comparison.

"Sorry Malfoy. I was just thinking about something." Harry lifted the last of his lukewarm coffee, drinking the strong liquid to hide his embarrassment. A part of himself was now very conscious of his own messy black hair, and he ignored the itch to try, hopelessly, to flatten it.

"Do you do that a lot?" Draco asked, mild concern flickered in his eyes over his coffee.

"No." Harry shook his head, putting the mug back down. "It usually only happens once or twice a month, if that. I don't know what's up with me lately." Harry chuckled – trying to play it off as unimportant, but then he sighed and looked slightly troubled. His brow frowned and his eyes unfocused as he thought about the increase in his episodes. He tilted his head and scratched at his hairline.

"Do you want me to leave?" Draco asked, placing his own mug down on the table.

"NO!" Harry almost shouted, the words blurting out before he'd even had a chance to consider Draco's question. He didn't have time to wonder why he felt so strongly about that, because he was already trying to fix his mistake. "I mean, n-no you're fine. This is nice. I mean, it's strange that we're here sharing coffee and not about to hex each other, but ... it's pleasant." Harry gesticulated and then held his breath, offering a small smile and hoping the blond wouldn't run off.

They hadn't shared much: bits and pieces of trivial things, exchanged apologies, and reviewed how prepared they were for the new school year, but ... Harry honestly found it nice to have someone other than Neville to talk to.

Neville was the current Herbology teacher, and the only other teacher that was below sixty-years-old, so it could be nice to have another like aged wizard around. Draco was quiet, seemed unsure and guarded, but only twenty minutes into their coffee and the company was almost comfortable between them. It was bizarre.

"Yes, I must say I'm rather surprised that I have been able to tolerate your company for this long." Draco's lips twitched into a small split-second grin, assuring Harry that Draco was indeed joking. "Are you sure that teaching defence against the dark arts is safe. What happens if one of your first-year students hits another with a nasty hex while you are in a mind haze episode?" Draco asked, pouring himself a fresh coffee.

Harry didn't know how to take that sudden question. He felt his walls stacking rapidly, his mind suddenly on guard. Draco had better not try and cause trouble for him - he enjoyed his work as a teacher. The Auror department had forced him to see a mind healer during his training eleven years ago, it was for that reason that he was declared unfit medically to become an auror. They gave him the all clear to teach at Hogwarts though, and the 'mind haze episodes' as Draco had just labelled them, had been occurring less and less every year. If Draco started to cause issues for him now, he would not be happy.