desire .

Inheritance - Chapter Three

   Draco pretended to gag and Harry swatted him with the oven gloves.

   They had dinner on Harry’s little table at the end of the living room, once Harry had cleared off enough piles of paper to find the place settings that was. He put on some music that Draco didn’t recognise but that was pleasant and unobtrusive as they tucked into his truly scrumptious meal. Draco wasn’t much good at cooking, but Harry obviously took great delight in it, and Draco savoured every bite as they chatted merrily away, slowing working their way through Draco’s wine.

   On Harry’s recommendation, he had read a couple of the books Harry had refrained from spoiling for him on their last lunch meeting (date), and they spent a good hour or so hashing over their merits before the conversation naturally wandered off into other areas. Draco found out Harry’s parents had passed away when he was a baby, and he’d been raised by his godfather (the man in the photo with the dog, so Draco had been close). Draco had been troubled to discover his orphaned status, but Harry seemed resigned to it.

   “I don’t really remember them,” he said with a sigh. “But Sirius and their other friends did a really good job keeping them alive in spirit for me. So, I don’t know, I guess I feel like they’re still here in a way.” He got up and found another photo frame amidst his sea of books, and showed Draco another dark haired man with a red-headed woman holding a small baby.

   “That’s you?” Draco asked, a lump threatening in his throat. He didn’t like to think of Harry being left alone before he was even old enough to walk.

   But Harry leaned over him, resting one hand on Draco’s shoulder and touched the frame with the other. Draco’s breath hitched. “It’s okay,” he said. “I mean, I wish I could have met them, but I know I was loved.”

   Draco gave the photo back, and Harry took the opportunity whilst he was standing to venture back into the kitchen for another bottle of wine and for a cheesecake that helped drag Draco’s thoughts back into a much happier place.

   “I think you’re probably still loved,” Draco said, emboldened by the wine as Harry cut them healthy slices of dessert and doused it with cream. Harry smiled and bit his lip.

   “Well, I consider Sirius my family, and I’ve got a lot of great friends back home in Exeter, but,” he trailed off, shrugging as he began opening the next bottle of wine. “It’s not been easy in London, especially at work. I’m…well a bit of an oddity as I’m sure you noticed.”

   “Why do you think I was drawn to you,” said Draco playfully, holding up his glass for Harry to refill. “We’re both weirdos.” Harry chuckled, a lovely sound over the wine glugging from the bottle. “How did you manage until now though, if it was so lonely?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t pushing too far. “Why not change jobs, move back home?”

   Harry placed the bottle onto the table and regarded Draco from under his coal black lashes. “Come here,” he said with a jerk of his head, picking up his glass and moving to the balcony door, opening it into the night.

   Draco picked up his glass too as they stepped out into the nippy air and leaned side-by-side on the small balcony’s rail. The view didn’t exactly contain any landmarks, but it spilled out for miles and miles, the rambling city streets stretching out until the light twinkling from windows and street lamps blurred with stars visible on this unusually clear evening. “It’s beautiful,” he said.

   “This is why I can’t leave,” said Harry warmly, sipping his wine. “London may be messy and huge and a shambles, but I feel so at home here, it’s like it sings to me.” He raised an eyebrow at Draco, as if daring him to challenge him. “There’s so much history seeped into these bricks, so many stories to be told by so many people in so many tongues, I feel like, even though I’ve been a bit adrift, the shore is there in sight. I just needed a lifeline to pull me back in, and then I’d really be a part of it all.”