Happy H/D Holidays, oncologisted!
Author: violet_quill
Recipient: oncologisted
Title: More Than Blueberry Scones
Pairings: Harry/Draco, + a spoiler pairing (not Harry or Draco with someone else)
Summary: Draco really hates Teddy Lupin. He even has good reasons for it, not the least of which being the rumors about him and Harry Potter.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Epilogue Compliant? Yes
Word Count: 5,900
Author's Notes: Happy holidays! Here, have some Teddy, and I do hope that you don't mind a touch of farce.
Draco basically hates Teddy Lupin on sight. He doesn't have a particularly good reason for it--not that he ever needs one. And the boy's simple presence is enough, because he's just that, a boy, and no one has the right to look like that in a pair of trousers, especially not with that ridiculous blue hair.
Everyone knows that he's here through pure nepotism. As if a Hufflepuff could get a Ministry job a year out of Hogwarts even if he's little more than a glorified messenger. But throw in a godfather whom everyone treats like the second coming of Merlin…
Speaking of whom, Draco has seen very little of Harry lately… ever since the little blue-haired ponce showed up, actually. Not that he's sure why he cares. It is with some reluctance that he admits to himself that he and Harry have formed a rather gratifying if grudging friendship. And it isn't as if Draco exactly has friends to spare. He's gotten used to trading quips and insults with Harry over lunches in the park outside the Ministry. Lately, though, Harry has been spending his lunch breaks in his office with Teddy and what everyone swears are his brilliant culinary concoctions. Apparently he makes a great cup of tea, too. An excellent quality in a secretary, Draco thinks, but not a man.
Teddy Lupin, as far as Draco is concerned, can jump off a bloody cliff. And land in big pile of his own bloody blueberry scones.
"Tea, Mr. Malfoy?"
… well, he does kind of like watching that perfect little mouth form the words Mr. Malfoy.
"No," Draco says shortly, barely glancing up from what he hopes looks like very important work but is actually just a grocery list he'd been scrawling on a scrap of paper.
"Well, here's your mail, then," Teddy says pleasantly, still unfazed by Draco's disdain even after weeks of an extremely chilly reception. He lays a stack of various sized envelopes on the desk in front of Draco. "This sure beats having those owls flying around the building, yeah? I hear they pay me less than the blokes they had to keep on staff to clean up the mess…"
Everyone else seems to find Teddy's jokes incredibly charming. Draco scowls. "That will be all, Theodore. Some of us have a lot of work to do."
"Of course." Again, oblivious. Idiot. "You must have quite a head for numbers."
Draco just looks at him like he's a complete moron. "Generally that's a job requirement for Minister of Finance, Theodore."
Teddy simply smiles--damn that smile!--and turns to go. Then he looks over his shoulder and adds, "Oh, and once again, you can call me Teddy. Have a great day, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco glares at the door once it's shut.
He's bloody well craving a blueberry scone.
- - -
The weekly senior staff meeting at the Ministry is even more mind-numbing than usual today. Even Hermione looks bored, and she's usually scribbling notes the same way she did back in school.
"New business?" Minister Shacklebolt drums his fingers on the edge of the table, and Draco imagines that he's about ready to bolt as well. Not that Draco blames him; he had been thinking of offing himself if he had to hear more about the old business.
"Well," Percy Weasley chimes in, "there's the issue of the emissary from the magical community in Thailand--"
"I'm sure that Ms. Patil has that well under control."
Draco glances over at Padma, who had obviously tuned out until she heard her name, because now she has that surprised deer look about her. "Thailand, right," she blurts. "Tomorrow morning. I've already got an interpreter lined up."
"And the little issue with the Romanian Quidditch--"
"On it," Lee Jordan says, interrupting Percy. He's sitting beside Draco, who can see the pin-up style drawing of a well-endowed woman straddling a broomstick that's covering the page in front of him. He doesn't look up when he speaks, concentrating on shading the area between her breasts. Draco resists the urge to roll his eyes. How juvenile.
"I also understand that the quarterly reports for--"
Draco is now about ready to reach across the table and strangle Percy Weasley, but luckily the Minister cuts him off before he manages to get any more irritating. "I think that everything is pretty much in hand, Percy. Why don't you write a report about your concerns about have it on my desk by the end of the day?"
Percy looks absolutely pleased, the stupid ponce. He loves reports. Probably wanks over them.
The meeting adjourns shortly after that, and Draco sneaks a glance at Harry, who is deep in conversation with Hermione at the other end of the table. He finds it endlessly funny that she's Harry's boss, and even funnier that her husband is a step below that. He imagines that the whole dynamic makes for some fantastic family gatherings, especially when you throw Percy into the mix--who, though not technically anyone's boss since he's Shacklebolt's Chief of Staff, certainly acts like he's got authority over the lot of them.
Of course, the entire room looks like a school reunion, given the crowd. Along with Lee running the Department of Magical Games and Sports, Padma in International Magical Cooperation, and Hermione in Magical Law Enforcement, there's also Luna Lovegood's husband as the recently-installed head of the magical creatures division. The bloke in charge of the Department of Mysteries had been there for about a hundred years, so no one expected to get any fresh blood in there any time soon, though he rarely bothers to show up for meetings anyway.
After the war, there were a lot of important positions that needed filling, and a lot of war heroes that the general public were eager to see in charge. They all hadn't jumped straight into the big seats, but it hadn't taken long. And everyone loved it, the whole golden age thing. Though frankly, Draco thought it was mostly just the comparison to what had come before--after the terror of Voldemort (who had the Ministry in his pocket for the last few years), a bunch of Blast-Ended Skrewts put in charge would have been an upgrade.
And to top it all off, some clever writer for the Prophet, a Muggle-born geek with a penchant for science fiction in his childhood, had done an article about the regime in which he referred to them as "The New Republic." The name stuck.
Draco, of course, had come on board considerably later. He hadn't exactly been in the group of golden children. But once everyone saw how he managed to turn the Malfoy rags back into riches after his father nearly destroyed the entire family, he'd been a shoe-in for the spot in the Department of Finance. And though he'd kept this fact very much on the down-low (the popular opinion was that he took the job simply because he found a life of leisure dull and craved power), Astoria had managed to get away with a large chunk of that fortune after the divorce and he needed the well-paying job to maintain his extravagant standard of living.
Luckily he only sees the bitch twice a year, for the sake of Scorpius--once at Christmas and once at the train station at the beginning of the school term. He understands that Harry and Ginny have the same basic arrangement.
Draco considers asking Harry if he wants to join him for lunch, but his pride prevents him. Especially in front of Hermione. They might be friends or some such now, but that doesn't mean that Draco should be the one to initiate things. That's not what he does.
So he heads for the door alone, only to catch a snatch of conversation between Lee and Padma, who have paused just outside the door of the conference room. The pair of them are thick as thieves at work, since Lee is dating Padma's sister.
"… more than blueberry scones, if you get my drift," Lee says.
"Really? Are you sure?"
"Just what I've heard. Gossip, sure, but they do spend an awful lot of time together. And how surprising is it, really? I mean, that color-changing hair…"
"But he's so much older!"
"Professor Lupin's probably turning over in his grave."
"Merlin bless him," Padma finishes, shaking her head, and then looks up, a guilty expression crossing her face as she sees Draco there. She clears her throat. "Hullo there, Draco. We were just discussing that tricky issue with the Romanian Quidditch team."
"Right," Draco says neutrally. "Tricky, that one. Good luck with all that."
"Thanks," Lee says, looking sideways at Padma.
Draco nods and heads on his way down the hallway, pondering what he'd just heard. It's no puzzle who they were talking about--if the scones and the hair didn't seal it, the remark about Professor Lupin was evidence enough.
He hears Lee's voice again in his head: He's so much older.
Harry.
Teddy.
More than blueberry scones.
Draco makes it to his office and shuts the door behind him. He's feeling a little sick. However, it has nothing to do with the concept of homosexuality itself or even the age difference--the twenty year old bloke he'd picked up at the Leaky last month could attest to that. But for some reason, the thought of Harry and Teddy…
Maybe it's the godfather thing that's not sitting well. It's just got those weird incestuous undertones.
Or maybe, some small voice inside his head tells him, it's because you figured you'd be the first to know if Harry was queer.
Apparently that's a common secret at the Ministry. After all, Draco had had his suspicions about Teddy (it was the way he wore his trousers, even more than the hair--no one had a right to look that good from behind), but until just now, they were unfounded. And certainly no one knows that Draco had the occasional same sex dalliance. It isn't a big thing; it's something of a Malfoy tradition, truth be told. Astoria had never even suspected, though then again, during the first five or six years of their marriage he'd hardly cheated on her at all since they were actually having sex on a regular basis. Until she turned into a cold fish society wife.
In fact, the only openly gay higher-up in the Ministry is Percy Weasley. Which is, frankly, one of the reasons Draco prefers to stay hushed about his own proclivities. He'd hate for someone to think he had anything in common with that poncy know-it-all. Not to mention that when well-meaning people hear that you're queer (or even part-queer), they immediately try to set you up with the other gay man they happen to know--as if they're all interchangeable or something. And the last thing that Draco wants to do is suffer through any sort of interaction with Percy Weasley.
… except, of course, when he walks down to his office a few minutes later.
Percy glances up from a stack of papers at Draco's knock on the door frame. "Mr. Malfoy," he says. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Just here to pump you for information."
"Funny, I didn't think you were the sort to be pumping me for anything."
That statement hangs in the air for a moment before Draco has an inward shudder and simply takes a seat at the chair in front of Percy's desk. "Well. I am not generally one to listen to idle gossip--"
"A commendable trait."
"However, I couldn't help but overhear something, and I am curious about its veracity."
"I see. And this rumor is about me? Because I can assure you that no matter how amusing some people seem to find the idea, I have never had any inappropriate interactions with a broomstick."
Oh, ew. "It's not about you."
"Very well. I fail to see why you have come to me, then."
"It's about Teddy Lupin."
Percy blinks. "…oh?"
"Yes. Is it true that he's gay?"
Percy coughs. "And you're asking me this because?"
Draco frowns. "Well, because you're--"
"Were you under the impression that we have a clubhouse or some such nonsense? It isn't a secret society, Mr. Malfoy, and I don't know the identity of every queer wizard in England."
He had a point. "I just thought you might know," Draco admits grudgingly.
"So that's the big gossip? That young Lupin is a pouf?"
"Well, not exactly." Draco has no idea why he's perpetuating the rumor, but he's dying to see Percy's reaction. "The rumor is that he's taken up with Harry Potter."
The reaction is definitely worth it. Percy looks as if he's about to swallow his own tongue, sputtering like an idiot. "You - he - Harry Potter?"
It would, however, be funnier if Draco didn't feel similarly. "Yes, I'm sure you know him. Brown hair, green eyes, big sodding scar on his forehead?"
Percy finally composes himself, and takes off is glasses to polish them furiously. "Yes, well, I hadn't heard. But I wouldn't go spreading rumors if I were you."
"Don't worry, our golden boy's reputation is safe with me." Even if the thought of him bending Teddy Lupin over a desk is enough to make him want to vomit.
… okay, no it's not. Actually, it's kind of arousing. Which is why he's trying extremely hard not to conjure up a mental image. Much.
"Will that be all, Mr. Malfoy?" Percy's voice is clipped.
Draco shrugs and pulls himself to his feet. "Later."
Percy says nothing, just starts scribbling furiously on one of the papers in front of him. When he looks down, Draco sees how red the back of his neck is.
- - -
Hermione is sitting in Draco's office when he returns.
"I have a bone to pick with you," she says.
Draco leers at her as he plops into his chair. "Of course you do. What else would you be doing with my bone?"
It's a thing with the two of them--he pretends to be interested and makes ridiculous sexual innuendos and she pretends to be offended and tries not to laugh. Draco just does it to annoy Ron. It works brilliantly.
"I'm not in the mood, Draco," she says, crossing her arms over her chest. "I just got an owl from Rose. Your son has been picking on her."
Draco lifts an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Yes. Apparently he hexed her pajamas to make her oversleep; she missed her first classes for three days until she worked it out!"
Draco's lips twitch. What a clever prank.
"Tell me, Hermione," he says, leaning forward and folding his hands on the desk in front of him. "Does Rose generally wear her pajamas to class?"
Hermione frowns. "Of course not."
"Does she take her pajamas with her in her school bag? Perhaps she has some strange attachment to them?"
"… no."
"Well then perhaps you would care to explain to me how Scorpius, being in Ravenclaw, managed to get past that ornery fat lady of yours and into Gryffindor tower? Let alone the girls' dormitories?"
Hermione bristled. "I'm sure that he could find a way."
"I'll grant you that Scorpius is quite good mates with a Gryffindor boy. Thick as thieves, him and little Albus." Draco is increasingly amused by how annoyed Hermione is getting. "Speaking of which, doesn't it seem more likely that a Gryffindor was the one to do the deed? Someone that dear Rose would trust in her room, with her things? Like, say, her cousin?"
Hermione makes an exasperated noise between her teeth. "Okay, fine. So maybe Albus did the charm, but you can't tell me that it wasn't Scorpius' idea. He probably taught him the hex, too; Albus is pants at charms."
Draco shrugs. "Probably. I'll speak to him."
"See that you do." Hermione gets to her feet, then hesitates. "And I'll speak to Harry as well."
"Boys will be boys."
Hermione rolls her eyes. "Indeed."
Before she can go, Draco says, "Oh, Hermione, ah… speaking of the charming younger members of your family… is Teddy Lupin still dating Bill's daughter?"
"Victoire?" Hermione looks surprised at the question. "Well, no, actually. They broke up about six months ago. The poor dear cried in her room for a week." She narrows her eyes suspiciously. "Why?"
She probably thinks that Draco wants to make a move on the girl. Which is actually a bit insulting; she's barely eighteen. Okay, maybe not that insulting. She is part Veela.
He shrugs. "Just curious. I noticed how popular Teddy is around the Ministry's female employees."
Hermione sighs. "Oh, that's just because he's so cute. He humors them."
"Even you?" Draco smirks.
She swats his arm with the file she's holding. "I am a happily married woman, which it would do you well to remember."
"Mmmhmm, let me just make a note. Granger, H. Happily married." He pretends to scribble a note as she snorts and walks out of his office.
Draco leans back in his chair, thinking that he really ought to speak to Scorpius, just to make a show at some fatherly reprimanding. Of course, the problem isn't the hex--which Draco still thinks was quite clever--but that he hasn't figured out how not to get caught yet. He was probably gloating, if Rose worked out so quickly that he was the one behind it.
He also realizes that now he has a perfect excuse to speak to Harry.
- - -
That night, Draco sits in front of one of the smaller fireplaces in his home and makes a fire call into the Ravenclaw common room, having sent an owl earlier in the day to arrange the meeting with his son.
"Hi dad!" Scorpius grins at him through the embers.
"Hello, Scorpius," Draco says gravely, doing a fairly accurate imitation of his own father.
The boy's face falls. "Oh, bugger. Rose told her mum, didn't she?"
Draco resists the urge to laugh. "She's very upset."
"Well it served her right. Caught her looking off my paper in Potions last week."
That sounds about right. "I'll grant you that it was a clever hex. Did you get Albus to help you?"
Scorpius smiles, obviously pleased by the praise. "Yeah, though it took about a million tries to teach it to him."
Draco would never admit it, but he's always been extremely proud that his son is in Ravenclaw rather than Slytherin--especially since he's by far the smartest wizard in his year, maybe in the whole school. Draco has no idea where he got it from, obviously not from his bint mother. Though it's clear what he inherited from Draco--what makes him clever and sly, rather than a know-it-all like Hermione.
"You should be careful, or everyone will think that you like her. Boys tease the girls you like."
Scorpius makes a face. "Oh, ew, dad. I don't like girls yet. But…" He shrugs. "I do kind of feel bad for her, trying so hard to get good marks."
Draco can understand that. Everyone expects her to be smart like her mum, when really she's more like her dad. Word is that she's going to be quite a Quidditch player, though.
"And what have you learned from this experience?" he adds.
"Not to gloat about it to stupid Begonia Longbottom over breakfast because she's got a big sodding mouth."
"Scorpius, your language."
"Sorry, dad. Oh hey, dad, speaking of big mouths…"
Draco lifts an eyebrow.
"If I knew something interesting about someone you know, would you want me to tell you?"
"Yes," Draco says automatically.
Scorpius looks surprised, but shrugs. Then his face gets a little larger; he's obviously leaning closer to the fire. He lowers his voice and says, "Albus' dad is gay."
Draco's mouth drops open. "Where did you hear that?" And more importantly, how in Merlin's name did his own son know about this before he did?
"Albus overheard his dad talking to Mr. Weasley." That would be Ron. "He was talking about how he has feelings for someone but doesn't know if he should tell him. And Albus is sure it was him."
Draco clears his throat. "And how does Albus feel about this?"
Scorpius shrugs. "He doesn't care. He just wants his dad to be happy, figures it's about time he starts dating after the divorce. It's been almost five years. Apparently Mr. Weasley seemed pretty grossed out, though. He was making a face."
Of course he was. It just figures the git would be homophobic.
"If you say something to him, just don't mention it was Albus who told, yeah?" Scorpius adds, looking worried. "I don't want him to get into trouble."
"Don't worry," Draco assures him. "Secret's safe with me."
His son looks relieved. "Well, um… I guess I'll apologize to Rose."
Smart kid. "Good call."
"Good to see you, dad. I miss you."
"I miss you, too." Draco watches as the fire fizzles out.
So. Not only is Harry shagging Teddy, but the poor sod's gone and fallen in love with him.
- - -
Draco's not exactly in the best mood when he arrives at the Ministry in the morning, and he doesn't seem to be the only one. Ron nearly collides with him in the lobby, giving Draco a dirty look before rushing off without a word (Draco very much wants to call after him, "Hey, it's not my fault your best friend turned out to be a pouf!"). When he stops by Harry's office to ask if he has some time over lunch to discuss their respective son's pranking activities, Harry seems flustered and distant; he's irritatingly dismissive, but at least agrees to lunch. Percy stops by Draco's office personally to hand him a stack of work that needs to be done, and there are bags under his eyes.
Of course, most disturbing of all is when Teddy comes in as usual, but instead of his typical cheerful greeting, he simply holds up a cup and says flatly, "Tea?"
"No," Draco says, watching him carefully.
Teddy just shrugs, which almost seems visibly difficult due to some heavy weight settled over him, and then leaves.
Draco wishes he could get some small amount of pleasure from seeing the kid feeling down, but instead it's just kind of depressing. He wonders if someone has cast some mood-altering spell in the Ministry…
The thing about Teddy is, if he's in a bad mood, the worst that happens is that people don't get their mail and tea. However, Percy's bad mood means that Draco has a stack of invoices on his desk a meter high, and a note saying that he needs to double check them personally. Speaking of which, why had Percy been lugging stacks of papers around himself, when they've got the blue-haired wonder for that?
By the time lunchtime rolls around, Draco has seen a lot of other people grumbling as well, though it seems to be because Percy paid them similar visits.
In fact, Harry is the only one with a clear desk, though he's not exactly sunshine and roses either.
"Oh. Hello, Draco."
It's really weird how Harry's avoiding eye contact. Draco wonders with some degree of trepidation whether he knows that Draco knows. Maybe he's embarrassed. Ashamed at having been caught shagging his godson. Should be, probably.
Draco decides to take the moral high road, and doesn't say anything about it. "Harry."
They stare at each other for about twenty seconds.
Draco clears his throat. "So, this situation with Scorpius and Albus…"
So they hash that out for a while, doing the dad thing, even though Draco can tell that Harry is just as amused as he was by the whole thing, probably secretly impressed that Albus was able to get the charm right. And during the whole conversation Draco's wondering if he should say something to Harry, because, after all, if they're friends… besides, he doesn't want him to think he's homophobic.
What he really wants to say is, look, mate, I am highly in support of you shagging blokes, I just think your taste blows.
Though to be honest, Draco hadn't thought much of Harry's taste when he was straight. Ginny Weasley? Please.
So when there's a lull in the conversation, Draco finds himself blurting, "You know, a few weeks ago I shagged a twenty year old." Well, he's not about to admit he's gay, is he? And he's got to show his tacit approval of the situation somehow.
For a second, Harry looks almost stricken, but it must be the surprise. He does not, however, look relieved--more annoyed. "That's great, Draco." The clipped words remind Draco of Percy, which is never a good thing.
"I just mean, you know, there's nothing wrong with men our age dipping down a little farther in the age pool. It's just a number, right? And wizards live so much longer. When you're a hundred and a hundred twenty, who'd even notice?"
Looking a little flustered, Harry pushes his glasses further up his nose. Draco finds him strangely attractive when he gets like this.
"Actually, I think it's a little inappropriate, Draco."
Draco blinks. "Really?"
"Yes. I do. Especially for someone in your position. There's already an inherent imbalance of power when you're with someone so much younger, and bring an authority figure into it…"
Draco's mouth drops open. "You bloody hypocrite!" he blurts before he can help himself.
Harry's eyebrows shoot up to his scar. "What?"
"It's just… you…" Think, think, think… "What about Ron and Hermione? She's the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he's a lowly Auror…"
Harry frowns. "You're comparing Ron and Hermione, who are the same age and have been married for fifteen years, to you cruising for teenaged girls?"
Girls? Presumptuous git.
"Okay, first of all, I do not cruise--"
"I'm well aware of that now," Harry mutters, and Draco has no sodding idea what he's talking about.
"And second, I didn't say teenaged, I said twenty. There's a big difference between nineteen and twenty. I seem to remember when you were nineteen--"
Harry groans.
"Remember you spent that three months in Africa wearing face paint and communing with nature?" Though to be fair, it did give Harry some interesting taste in art; Draco rather enjoyed all the African artefacts in his office.
"It was a very rewarding experience, Draco. It was--"
"It was selfish. You were just trying to get away from Ginny."
"I was not! I was… okay, I was."
"And then you came back and were twenty instead of nineteen and you--" Draco looks thoughtful for a second. "Actually, this isn't a very good example. You deciding to marry the silly bint wasn't because you were all grown up and responsible, it's because you went right back to letting everyone else tell you what to do."
"Can we please not bring my ex-wife into this? We're talking about you, Draco. You and your new dating habits."
"My…?" Draco feels the back of his neck getting a little hot. In about thirty seconds, he's going to blow. "There's nothing wrong with my dating habits!"
"In that case, you can bloody well stay away from my niece!"
Draco already has a retort on the tip of his tongue, when he hears the word "niece." The complete confusion stops him. "Your what?"
"My niece, Draco." Harry's glaring daggers at him. "Hermione told me you were asking about her. I was going to give you the benefit of the doubt, but then you come in here rubbing my nose in your young conquests…"
Oh.
"Harry, don't be an idiot," Draco snaps. "I have no interest in Victoria."
"Victoire."
"See, I don't even know her name!"
Harry looks scandalized. "And that's supposed to make it better?"
"No interest," Draco repeats irritably. "If you don't believe that I wouldn't go after a teenaged girl, then at least consider this: do you really think I would want a Weasley?" Honestly.
Harry opens his mouth, then closes it again. "Well, she's…"
"Yes, I'm sure she's very hot, Harry," Draco says, rolling his eyes. "Nice that you noticed."
Harry scowls again. "Well, just stay away from her. You're old enough to be her father, for Merlin's sake."
"Oh, please!" Draco's hit his breaking point now. The hypocrisy is stifling, and if he doesn't just say something he's going to end up punching Harry in the teeth. "The only reason I even asked about her in the first place was because of you and your nineteen-year-old!"
Harry looks about as confused as Draco had been a moment ago. "My what?"
"Oh, come off it, Harry. The whole bloody office knows you're shagging Teddy Lupin."
There's a moment of complete silence, and the look of utter shock on Harry's face is priceless.
Then Harry leaps to his feet. "I am not shagging Teddy!"
Somehow, how adamant Harry is doesn't make him seem overcompensating, but sincere. Draco is confused. "… really?"
"Yes, really! Merlin. He's my godson, Draco. Where on earth did you get the idea that there was something inappropriate going on between us?"
Draco suddenly realizes that the answer to that is simply 'because I heard Lee say so' and feels like a bit of a moron. "Well you do spend an awful lot of time with him…" he finally offers lamely.
"Because he's family, Draco. And besides, he's been very kind of talking me through some… personal stuff, lately. But there has never been anything like…" Harry finally sits back down, obviously flustered. "Could you imagine? After Remus named me his godfather… he'd turn over in his grave if I took advantage of the boy!"
Of course, through all of this fervent denial, not a bit of it is "and I'm straight!" which Draco sees as a rather telling omission. Against his better judgment, he finds himself asking, "So if it's not Teddy, then who is it that you've taken up with?"
Harry blinks. "I… no one. I'm not seeing anyone."
Draco wants to call bullshit. But he'd promised Scorpius that he wouldn't give up Albus as the source of his information. So instead, he shifts the entire conversation into something new entirely. Harry is his friend now. Which means that this should be about… sharing, not interrogation.
"The twenty-year-old that I took home," he says after a moment, "was a man, not a woman."
Harry does look surprised, but not overly so. "I… see."
Draco shrugs. "I just thought you should know that, ah, if that had been the issue, it wouldn't bother me."
"Well you were right about something," Harry says.
Draco waits.
"Teddy is gay."
Oh. Right.
"And so am I."
Draco looks up at him. "You are?"
"Well, more or less. The 'less' was while I was married, and the 'more' is now that I've developed feelings for a man."
"But you said you weren't seeing anyone."
"I'm not. It is, as far as I know, unrequited."
Draco rubs the back of his neck, realizing that he still doesn't like the idea of Harry fancying someone, even if it isn't Teddy. "Well have you told him?"
"I'm in the process of doing that right now, actually."
It takes Draco a good five seconds to parse this, and his mouth is hanging open by the time Harry speaks again.
"It's not just because you just told me you're gay," Harry says quickly. "I mean, I might not have gotten up the courage to tell you otherwise, but I've been thinking about it for a while, and between that and the fact that you were so interested in my possible relationship with Teddy…"
Speaking of whom, he has the most impeccably horrendous timing, Draco decides. Because he chooses that very moment to burst into Harry's office, along with Percy Weasley.
"Harry," Teddy blurts. "There's been this horrible misunderstanding--"
Harry's mouth twitches. "Yes, Teddy, we've worked that bit out."
Teddy looks from Harry to Draco, as if he's just noticed him there. "Oh. Good. So you know I'm not…"
"You made quite a mess of things, do you know that?" Percy suddenly scolds, glaring at Draco. "You really shouldn't go about spreading rumors that have no basis in reality."
"What are you doing here?" Draco asks irritably.
Teddy shoves his hands in his pockets. "Well, Percy confronted me about my alleged relationship with Harry."
Harry's eyebrows shoot up. "Where did he…?" Then he glances at Draco, and sighs.
"And of course, this was after leaving me a dear john letter last night," Teddy adds, giving Percy a bit of an admonishing look.
At this point, Draco notices that Percy isn't just standing beside Teddy--his arm is around his waist, and hand resting just low enough that the meaning is quite clear.
"Bloody hell, you're the one shagging him!" Draco points.
Percy rolls his eyes. Even while groping a man half his age, he looks completely fastidious. "Not that it should be anyone's business, but yes. For quite a while now."
Draco doesn't want to break it to him that the secret is apparently out. He re-runs the conversation with Lee and Padma in his head, and feels like an idiot for jumping to conclusions. Still, who would have thought… Percy. He represses a shudder.
"Once we figured things out, I remembered what you told me about thinking that Draco's interested in Victoire," Teddy adds, looking at Harry. "I figured it was part of the misunderstanding, so thought we should, uh… come make sure that you don't punch him or something."
"No, I didn't punch him," Harry says, a smile twitching at his lips as he looks at Draco.
"Actually, you interrupted his confession of love," Draco says matter-of-factly.
All three of them stare at him.
"What? It's true. Right, Harry?"
Harry clears his throat. "Well, that is--"
"And I was just about to grab him by the collar and drag him up to kiss me, but you've all bloody well ruined the moment." Draco crosses his arms over his chest.
Harry's cheeks go slightly pink, Teddy grins like a maniac, and Percy straightens his tie, muttering, "Well, really."
Teddy grabs Percy's hand and tugs. "I think we should leave the two of them alone."
Percy looks at Draco. "I still expect those invoices done by the end of the--" But he's cut off by Teddy dragging him out of the room.
Draco hears Teddy saying, "It's about bloody time, Harry's been agonizing over it for months…"
Alone with Harry now, Draco pushes the door closed with his toe.
"You were saying something about grabbing my collar?" Harry offers weakly.
Draco grins, crosses the room, and sits on the edge of Harry's desk, right in front of him. He leans in, breathing lightly against Harry's neck before he speaks.
"We should have told Teddy to bring us some scones. We might be in here for a while."
Recipient: oncologisted
Title: More Than Blueberry Scones
Pairings: Harry/Draco, + a spoiler pairing (not Harry or Draco with someone else)
Summary: Draco really hates Teddy Lupin. He even has good reasons for it, not the least of which being the rumors about him and Harry Potter.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Epilogue Compliant? Yes
Word Count: 5,900
Author's Notes: Happy holidays! Here, have some Teddy, and I do hope that you don't mind a touch of farce.
Draco basically hates Teddy Lupin on sight. He doesn't have a particularly good reason for it--not that he ever needs one. And the boy's simple presence is enough, because he's just that, a boy, and no one has the right to look like that in a pair of trousers, especially not with that ridiculous blue hair.
Everyone knows that he's here through pure nepotism. As if a Hufflepuff could get a Ministry job a year out of Hogwarts even if he's little more than a glorified messenger. But throw in a godfather whom everyone treats like the second coming of Merlin…
Speaking of whom, Draco has seen very little of Harry lately… ever since the little blue-haired ponce showed up, actually. Not that he's sure why he cares. It is with some reluctance that he admits to himself that he and Harry have formed a rather gratifying if grudging friendship. And it isn't as if Draco exactly has friends to spare. He's gotten used to trading quips and insults with Harry over lunches in the park outside the Ministry. Lately, though, Harry has been spending his lunch breaks in his office with Teddy and what everyone swears are his brilliant culinary concoctions. Apparently he makes a great cup of tea, too. An excellent quality in a secretary, Draco thinks, but not a man.
Teddy Lupin, as far as Draco is concerned, can jump off a bloody cliff. And land in big pile of his own bloody blueberry scones.
"Tea, Mr. Malfoy?"
… well, he does kind of like watching that perfect little mouth form the words Mr. Malfoy.
"No," Draco says shortly, barely glancing up from what he hopes looks like very important work but is actually just a grocery list he'd been scrawling on a scrap of paper.
"Well, here's your mail, then," Teddy says pleasantly, still unfazed by Draco's disdain even after weeks of an extremely chilly reception. He lays a stack of various sized envelopes on the desk in front of Draco. "This sure beats having those owls flying around the building, yeah? I hear they pay me less than the blokes they had to keep on staff to clean up the mess…"
Everyone else seems to find Teddy's jokes incredibly charming. Draco scowls. "That will be all, Theodore. Some of us have a lot of work to do."
"Of course." Again, oblivious. Idiot. "You must have quite a head for numbers."
Draco just looks at him like he's a complete moron. "Generally that's a job requirement for Minister of Finance, Theodore."
Teddy simply smiles--damn that smile!--and turns to go. Then he looks over his shoulder and adds, "Oh, and once again, you can call me Teddy. Have a great day, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco glares at the door once it's shut.
He's bloody well craving a blueberry scone.
- - -
The weekly senior staff meeting at the Ministry is even more mind-numbing than usual today. Even Hermione looks bored, and she's usually scribbling notes the same way she did back in school.
"New business?" Minister Shacklebolt drums his fingers on the edge of the table, and Draco imagines that he's about ready to bolt as well. Not that Draco blames him; he had been thinking of offing himself if he had to hear more about the old business.
"Well," Percy Weasley chimes in, "there's the issue of the emissary from the magical community in Thailand--"
"I'm sure that Ms. Patil has that well under control."
Draco glances over at Padma, who had obviously tuned out until she heard her name, because now she has that surprised deer look about her. "Thailand, right," she blurts. "Tomorrow morning. I've already got an interpreter lined up."
"And the little issue with the Romanian Quidditch--"
"On it," Lee Jordan says, interrupting Percy. He's sitting beside Draco, who can see the pin-up style drawing of a well-endowed woman straddling a broomstick that's covering the page in front of him. He doesn't look up when he speaks, concentrating on shading the area between her breasts. Draco resists the urge to roll his eyes. How juvenile.
"I also understand that the quarterly reports for--"
Draco is now about ready to reach across the table and strangle Percy Weasley, but luckily the Minister cuts him off before he manages to get any more irritating. "I think that everything is pretty much in hand, Percy. Why don't you write a report about your concerns about have it on my desk by the end of the day?"
Percy looks absolutely pleased, the stupid ponce. He loves reports. Probably wanks over them.
The meeting adjourns shortly after that, and Draco sneaks a glance at Harry, who is deep in conversation with Hermione at the other end of the table. He finds it endlessly funny that she's Harry's boss, and even funnier that her husband is a step below that. He imagines that the whole dynamic makes for some fantastic family gatherings, especially when you throw Percy into the mix--who, though not technically anyone's boss since he's Shacklebolt's Chief of Staff, certainly acts like he's got authority over the lot of them.
Of course, the entire room looks like a school reunion, given the crowd. Along with Lee running the Department of Magical Games and Sports, Padma in International Magical Cooperation, and Hermione in Magical Law Enforcement, there's also Luna Lovegood's husband as the recently-installed head of the magical creatures division. The bloke in charge of the Department of Mysteries had been there for about a hundred years, so no one expected to get any fresh blood in there any time soon, though he rarely bothers to show up for meetings anyway.
After the war, there were a lot of important positions that needed filling, and a lot of war heroes that the general public were eager to see in charge. They all hadn't jumped straight into the big seats, but it hadn't taken long. And everyone loved it, the whole golden age thing. Though frankly, Draco thought it was mostly just the comparison to what had come before--after the terror of Voldemort (who had the Ministry in his pocket for the last few years), a bunch of Blast-Ended Skrewts put in charge would have been an upgrade.
And to top it all off, some clever writer for the Prophet, a Muggle-born geek with a penchant for science fiction in his childhood, had done an article about the regime in which he referred to them as "The New Republic." The name stuck.
Draco, of course, had come on board considerably later. He hadn't exactly been in the group of golden children. But once everyone saw how he managed to turn the Malfoy rags back into riches after his father nearly destroyed the entire family, he'd been a shoe-in for the spot in the Department of Finance. And though he'd kept this fact very much on the down-low (the popular opinion was that he took the job simply because he found a life of leisure dull and craved power), Astoria had managed to get away with a large chunk of that fortune after the divorce and he needed the well-paying job to maintain his extravagant standard of living.
Luckily he only sees the bitch twice a year, for the sake of Scorpius--once at Christmas and once at the train station at the beginning of the school term. He understands that Harry and Ginny have the same basic arrangement.
Draco considers asking Harry if he wants to join him for lunch, but his pride prevents him. Especially in front of Hermione. They might be friends or some such now, but that doesn't mean that Draco should be the one to initiate things. That's not what he does.
So he heads for the door alone, only to catch a snatch of conversation between Lee and Padma, who have paused just outside the door of the conference room. The pair of them are thick as thieves at work, since Lee is dating Padma's sister.
"… more than blueberry scones, if you get my drift," Lee says.
"Really? Are you sure?"
"Just what I've heard. Gossip, sure, but they do spend an awful lot of time together. And how surprising is it, really? I mean, that color-changing hair…"
"But he's so much older!"
"Professor Lupin's probably turning over in his grave."
"Merlin bless him," Padma finishes, shaking her head, and then looks up, a guilty expression crossing her face as she sees Draco there. She clears her throat. "Hullo there, Draco. We were just discussing that tricky issue with the Romanian Quidditch team."
"Right," Draco says neutrally. "Tricky, that one. Good luck with all that."
"Thanks," Lee says, looking sideways at Padma.
Draco nods and heads on his way down the hallway, pondering what he'd just heard. It's no puzzle who they were talking about--if the scones and the hair didn't seal it, the remark about Professor Lupin was evidence enough.
He hears Lee's voice again in his head: He's so much older.
Harry.
Teddy.
More than blueberry scones.
Draco makes it to his office and shuts the door behind him. He's feeling a little sick. However, it has nothing to do with the concept of homosexuality itself or even the age difference--the twenty year old bloke he'd picked up at the Leaky last month could attest to that. But for some reason, the thought of Harry and Teddy…
Maybe it's the godfather thing that's not sitting well. It's just got those weird incestuous undertones.
Or maybe, some small voice inside his head tells him, it's because you figured you'd be the first to know if Harry was queer.
Apparently that's a common secret at the Ministry. After all, Draco had had his suspicions about Teddy (it was the way he wore his trousers, even more than the hair--no one had a right to look that good from behind), but until just now, they were unfounded. And certainly no one knows that Draco had the occasional same sex dalliance. It isn't a big thing; it's something of a Malfoy tradition, truth be told. Astoria had never even suspected, though then again, during the first five or six years of their marriage he'd hardly cheated on her at all since they were actually having sex on a regular basis. Until she turned into a cold fish society wife.
In fact, the only openly gay higher-up in the Ministry is Percy Weasley. Which is, frankly, one of the reasons Draco prefers to stay hushed about his own proclivities. He'd hate for someone to think he had anything in common with that poncy know-it-all. Not to mention that when well-meaning people hear that you're queer (or even part-queer), they immediately try to set you up with the other gay man they happen to know--as if they're all interchangeable or something. And the last thing that Draco wants to do is suffer through any sort of interaction with Percy Weasley.
… except, of course, when he walks down to his office a few minutes later.
Percy glances up from a stack of papers at Draco's knock on the door frame. "Mr. Malfoy," he says. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Just here to pump you for information."
"Funny, I didn't think you were the sort to be pumping me for anything."
That statement hangs in the air for a moment before Draco has an inward shudder and simply takes a seat at the chair in front of Percy's desk. "Well. I am not generally one to listen to idle gossip--"
"A commendable trait."
"However, I couldn't help but overhear something, and I am curious about its veracity."
"I see. And this rumor is about me? Because I can assure you that no matter how amusing some people seem to find the idea, I have never had any inappropriate interactions with a broomstick."
Oh, ew. "It's not about you."
"Very well. I fail to see why you have come to me, then."
"It's about Teddy Lupin."
Percy blinks. "…oh?"
"Yes. Is it true that he's gay?"
Percy coughs. "And you're asking me this because?"
Draco frowns. "Well, because you're--"
"Were you under the impression that we have a clubhouse or some such nonsense? It isn't a secret society, Mr. Malfoy, and I don't know the identity of every queer wizard in England."
He had a point. "I just thought you might know," Draco admits grudgingly.
"So that's the big gossip? That young Lupin is a pouf?"
"Well, not exactly." Draco has no idea why he's perpetuating the rumor, but he's dying to see Percy's reaction. "The rumor is that he's taken up with Harry Potter."
The reaction is definitely worth it. Percy looks as if he's about to swallow his own tongue, sputtering like an idiot. "You - he - Harry Potter?"
It would, however, be funnier if Draco didn't feel similarly. "Yes, I'm sure you know him. Brown hair, green eyes, big sodding scar on his forehead?"
Percy finally composes himself, and takes off is glasses to polish them furiously. "Yes, well, I hadn't heard. But I wouldn't go spreading rumors if I were you."
"Don't worry, our golden boy's reputation is safe with me." Even if the thought of him bending Teddy Lupin over a desk is enough to make him want to vomit.
… okay, no it's not. Actually, it's kind of arousing. Which is why he's trying extremely hard not to conjure up a mental image. Much.
"Will that be all, Mr. Malfoy?" Percy's voice is clipped.
Draco shrugs and pulls himself to his feet. "Later."
Percy says nothing, just starts scribbling furiously on one of the papers in front of him. When he looks down, Draco sees how red the back of his neck is.
- - -
Hermione is sitting in Draco's office when he returns.
"I have a bone to pick with you," she says.
Draco leers at her as he plops into his chair. "Of course you do. What else would you be doing with my bone?"
It's a thing with the two of them--he pretends to be interested and makes ridiculous sexual innuendos and she pretends to be offended and tries not to laugh. Draco just does it to annoy Ron. It works brilliantly.
"I'm not in the mood, Draco," she says, crossing her arms over her chest. "I just got an owl from Rose. Your son has been picking on her."
Draco lifts an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Yes. Apparently he hexed her pajamas to make her oversleep; she missed her first classes for three days until she worked it out!"
Draco's lips twitch. What a clever prank.
"Tell me, Hermione," he says, leaning forward and folding his hands on the desk in front of him. "Does Rose generally wear her pajamas to class?"
Hermione frowns. "Of course not."
"Does she take her pajamas with her in her school bag? Perhaps she has some strange attachment to them?"
"… no."
"Well then perhaps you would care to explain to me how Scorpius, being in Ravenclaw, managed to get past that ornery fat lady of yours and into Gryffindor tower? Let alone the girls' dormitories?"
Hermione bristled. "I'm sure that he could find a way."
"I'll grant you that Scorpius is quite good mates with a Gryffindor boy. Thick as thieves, him and little Albus." Draco is increasingly amused by how annoyed Hermione is getting. "Speaking of which, doesn't it seem more likely that a Gryffindor was the one to do the deed? Someone that dear Rose would trust in her room, with her things? Like, say, her cousin?"
Hermione makes an exasperated noise between her teeth. "Okay, fine. So maybe Albus did the charm, but you can't tell me that it wasn't Scorpius' idea. He probably taught him the hex, too; Albus is pants at charms."
Draco shrugs. "Probably. I'll speak to him."
"See that you do." Hermione gets to her feet, then hesitates. "And I'll speak to Harry as well."
"Boys will be boys."
Hermione rolls her eyes. "Indeed."
Before she can go, Draco says, "Oh, Hermione, ah… speaking of the charming younger members of your family… is Teddy Lupin still dating Bill's daughter?"
"Victoire?" Hermione looks surprised at the question. "Well, no, actually. They broke up about six months ago. The poor dear cried in her room for a week." She narrows her eyes suspiciously. "Why?"
She probably thinks that Draco wants to make a move on the girl. Which is actually a bit insulting; she's barely eighteen. Okay, maybe not that insulting. She is part Veela.
He shrugs. "Just curious. I noticed how popular Teddy is around the Ministry's female employees."
Hermione sighs. "Oh, that's just because he's so cute. He humors them."
"Even you?" Draco smirks.
She swats his arm with the file she's holding. "I am a happily married woman, which it would do you well to remember."
"Mmmhmm, let me just make a note. Granger, H. Happily married." He pretends to scribble a note as she snorts and walks out of his office.
Draco leans back in his chair, thinking that he really ought to speak to Scorpius, just to make a show at some fatherly reprimanding. Of course, the problem isn't the hex--which Draco still thinks was quite clever--but that he hasn't figured out how not to get caught yet. He was probably gloating, if Rose worked out so quickly that he was the one behind it.
He also realizes that now he has a perfect excuse to speak to Harry.
- - -
That night, Draco sits in front of one of the smaller fireplaces in his home and makes a fire call into the Ravenclaw common room, having sent an owl earlier in the day to arrange the meeting with his son.
"Hi dad!" Scorpius grins at him through the embers.
"Hello, Scorpius," Draco says gravely, doing a fairly accurate imitation of his own father.
The boy's face falls. "Oh, bugger. Rose told her mum, didn't she?"
Draco resists the urge to laugh. "She's very upset."
"Well it served her right. Caught her looking off my paper in Potions last week."
That sounds about right. "I'll grant you that it was a clever hex. Did you get Albus to help you?"
Scorpius smiles, obviously pleased by the praise. "Yeah, though it took about a million tries to teach it to him."
Draco would never admit it, but he's always been extremely proud that his son is in Ravenclaw rather than Slytherin--especially since he's by far the smartest wizard in his year, maybe in the whole school. Draco has no idea where he got it from, obviously not from his bint mother. Though it's clear what he inherited from Draco--what makes him clever and sly, rather than a know-it-all like Hermione.
"You should be careful, or everyone will think that you like her. Boys tease the girls you like."
Scorpius makes a face. "Oh, ew, dad. I don't like girls yet. But…" He shrugs. "I do kind of feel bad for her, trying so hard to get good marks."
Draco can understand that. Everyone expects her to be smart like her mum, when really she's more like her dad. Word is that she's going to be quite a Quidditch player, though.
"And what have you learned from this experience?" he adds.
"Not to gloat about it to stupid Begonia Longbottom over breakfast because she's got a big sodding mouth."
"Scorpius, your language."
"Sorry, dad. Oh hey, dad, speaking of big mouths…"
Draco lifts an eyebrow.
"If I knew something interesting about someone you know, would you want me to tell you?"
"Yes," Draco says automatically.
Scorpius looks surprised, but shrugs. Then his face gets a little larger; he's obviously leaning closer to the fire. He lowers his voice and says, "Albus' dad is gay."
Draco's mouth drops open. "Where did you hear that?" And more importantly, how in Merlin's name did his own son know about this before he did?
"Albus overheard his dad talking to Mr. Weasley." That would be Ron. "He was talking about how he has feelings for someone but doesn't know if he should tell him. And Albus is sure it was him."
Draco clears his throat. "And how does Albus feel about this?"
Scorpius shrugs. "He doesn't care. He just wants his dad to be happy, figures it's about time he starts dating after the divorce. It's been almost five years. Apparently Mr. Weasley seemed pretty grossed out, though. He was making a face."
Of course he was. It just figures the git would be homophobic.
"If you say something to him, just don't mention it was Albus who told, yeah?" Scorpius adds, looking worried. "I don't want him to get into trouble."
"Don't worry," Draco assures him. "Secret's safe with me."
His son looks relieved. "Well, um… I guess I'll apologize to Rose."
Smart kid. "Good call."
"Good to see you, dad. I miss you."
"I miss you, too." Draco watches as the fire fizzles out.
So. Not only is Harry shagging Teddy, but the poor sod's gone and fallen in love with him.
- - -
Draco's not exactly in the best mood when he arrives at the Ministry in the morning, and he doesn't seem to be the only one. Ron nearly collides with him in the lobby, giving Draco a dirty look before rushing off without a word (Draco very much wants to call after him, "Hey, it's not my fault your best friend turned out to be a pouf!"). When he stops by Harry's office to ask if he has some time over lunch to discuss their respective son's pranking activities, Harry seems flustered and distant; he's irritatingly dismissive, but at least agrees to lunch. Percy stops by Draco's office personally to hand him a stack of work that needs to be done, and there are bags under his eyes.
Of course, most disturbing of all is when Teddy comes in as usual, but instead of his typical cheerful greeting, he simply holds up a cup and says flatly, "Tea?"
"No," Draco says, watching him carefully.
Teddy just shrugs, which almost seems visibly difficult due to some heavy weight settled over him, and then leaves.
Draco wishes he could get some small amount of pleasure from seeing the kid feeling down, but instead it's just kind of depressing. He wonders if someone has cast some mood-altering spell in the Ministry…
The thing about Teddy is, if he's in a bad mood, the worst that happens is that people don't get their mail and tea. However, Percy's bad mood means that Draco has a stack of invoices on his desk a meter high, and a note saying that he needs to double check them personally. Speaking of which, why had Percy been lugging stacks of papers around himself, when they've got the blue-haired wonder for that?
By the time lunchtime rolls around, Draco has seen a lot of other people grumbling as well, though it seems to be because Percy paid them similar visits.
In fact, Harry is the only one with a clear desk, though he's not exactly sunshine and roses either.
"Oh. Hello, Draco."
It's really weird how Harry's avoiding eye contact. Draco wonders with some degree of trepidation whether he knows that Draco knows. Maybe he's embarrassed. Ashamed at having been caught shagging his godson. Should be, probably.
Draco decides to take the moral high road, and doesn't say anything about it. "Harry."
They stare at each other for about twenty seconds.
Draco clears his throat. "So, this situation with Scorpius and Albus…"
So they hash that out for a while, doing the dad thing, even though Draco can tell that Harry is just as amused as he was by the whole thing, probably secretly impressed that Albus was able to get the charm right. And during the whole conversation Draco's wondering if he should say something to Harry, because, after all, if they're friends… besides, he doesn't want him to think he's homophobic.
What he really wants to say is, look, mate, I am highly in support of you shagging blokes, I just think your taste blows.
Though to be honest, Draco hadn't thought much of Harry's taste when he was straight. Ginny Weasley? Please.
So when there's a lull in the conversation, Draco finds himself blurting, "You know, a few weeks ago I shagged a twenty year old." Well, he's not about to admit he's gay, is he? And he's got to show his tacit approval of the situation somehow.
For a second, Harry looks almost stricken, but it must be the surprise. He does not, however, look relieved--more annoyed. "That's great, Draco." The clipped words remind Draco of Percy, which is never a good thing.
"I just mean, you know, there's nothing wrong with men our age dipping down a little farther in the age pool. It's just a number, right? And wizards live so much longer. When you're a hundred and a hundred twenty, who'd even notice?"
Looking a little flustered, Harry pushes his glasses further up his nose. Draco finds him strangely attractive when he gets like this.
"Actually, I think it's a little inappropriate, Draco."
Draco blinks. "Really?"
"Yes. I do. Especially for someone in your position. There's already an inherent imbalance of power when you're with someone so much younger, and bring an authority figure into it…"
Draco's mouth drops open. "You bloody hypocrite!" he blurts before he can help himself.
Harry's eyebrows shoot up to his scar. "What?"
"It's just… you…" Think, think, think… "What about Ron and Hermione? She's the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he's a lowly Auror…"
Harry frowns. "You're comparing Ron and Hermione, who are the same age and have been married for fifteen years, to you cruising for teenaged girls?"
Girls? Presumptuous git.
"Okay, first of all, I do not cruise--"
"I'm well aware of that now," Harry mutters, and Draco has no sodding idea what he's talking about.
"And second, I didn't say teenaged, I said twenty. There's a big difference between nineteen and twenty. I seem to remember when you were nineteen--"
Harry groans.
"Remember you spent that three months in Africa wearing face paint and communing with nature?" Though to be fair, it did give Harry some interesting taste in art; Draco rather enjoyed all the African artefacts in his office.
"It was a very rewarding experience, Draco. It was--"
"It was selfish. You were just trying to get away from Ginny."
"I was not! I was… okay, I was."
"And then you came back and were twenty instead of nineteen and you--" Draco looks thoughtful for a second. "Actually, this isn't a very good example. You deciding to marry the silly bint wasn't because you were all grown up and responsible, it's because you went right back to letting everyone else tell you what to do."
"Can we please not bring my ex-wife into this? We're talking about you, Draco. You and your new dating habits."
"My…?" Draco feels the back of his neck getting a little hot. In about thirty seconds, he's going to blow. "There's nothing wrong with my dating habits!"
"In that case, you can bloody well stay away from my niece!"
Draco already has a retort on the tip of his tongue, when he hears the word "niece." The complete confusion stops him. "Your what?"
"My niece, Draco." Harry's glaring daggers at him. "Hermione told me you were asking about her. I was going to give you the benefit of the doubt, but then you come in here rubbing my nose in your young conquests…"
Oh.
"Harry, don't be an idiot," Draco snaps. "I have no interest in Victoria."
"Victoire."
"See, I don't even know her name!"
Harry looks scandalized. "And that's supposed to make it better?"
"No interest," Draco repeats irritably. "If you don't believe that I wouldn't go after a teenaged girl, then at least consider this: do you really think I would want a Weasley?" Honestly.
Harry opens his mouth, then closes it again. "Well, she's…"
"Yes, I'm sure she's very hot, Harry," Draco says, rolling his eyes. "Nice that you noticed."
Harry scowls again. "Well, just stay away from her. You're old enough to be her father, for Merlin's sake."
"Oh, please!" Draco's hit his breaking point now. The hypocrisy is stifling, and if he doesn't just say something he's going to end up punching Harry in the teeth. "The only reason I even asked about her in the first place was because of you and your nineteen-year-old!"
Harry looks about as confused as Draco had been a moment ago. "My what?"
"Oh, come off it, Harry. The whole bloody office knows you're shagging Teddy Lupin."
There's a moment of complete silence, and the look of utter shock on Harry's face is priceless.
Then Harry leaps to his feet. "I am not shagging Teddy!"
Somehow, how adamant Harry is doesn't make him seem overcompensating, but sincere. Draco is confused. "… really?"
"Yes, really! Merlin. He's my godson, Draco. Where on earth did you get the idea that there was something inappropriate going on between us?"
Draco suddenly realizes that the answer to that is simply 'because I heard Lee say so' and feels like a bit of a moron. "Well you do spend an awful lot of time with him…" he finally offers lamely.
"Because he's family, Draco. And besides, he's been very kind of talking me through some… personal stuff, lately. But there has never been anything like…" Harry finally sits back down, obviously flustered. "Could you imagine? After Remus named me his godfather… he'd turn over in his grave if I took advantage of the boy!"
Of course, through all of this fervent denial, not a bit of it is "and I'm straight!" which Draco sees as a rather telling omission. Against his better judgment, he finds himself asking, "So if it's not Teddy, then who is it that you've taken up with?"
Harry blinks. "I… no one. I'm not seeing anyone."
Draco wants to call bullshit. But he'd promised Scorpius that he wouldn't give up Albus as the source of his information. So instead, he shifts the entire conversation into something new entirely. Harry is his friend now. Which means that this should be about… sharing, not interrogation.
"The twenty-year-old that I took home," he says after a moment, "was a man, not a woman."
Harry does look surprised, but not overly so. "I… see."
Draco shrugs. "I just thought you should know that, ah, if that had been the issue, it wouldn't bother me."
"Well you were right about something," Harry says.
Draco waits.
"Teddy is gay."
Oh. Right.
"And so am I."
Draco looks up at him. "You are?"
"Well, more or less. The 'less' was while I was married, and the 'more' is now that I've developed feelings for a man."
"But you said you weren't seeing anyone."
"I'm not. It is, as far as I know, unrequited."
Draco rubs the back of his neck, realizing that he still doesn't like the idea of Harry fancying someone, even if it isn't Teddy. "Well have you told him?"
"I'm in the process of doing that right now, actually."
It takes Draco a good five seconds to parse this, and his mouth is hanging open by the time Harry speaks again.
"It's not just because you just told me you're gay," Harry says quickly. "I mean, I might not have gotten up the courage to tell you otherwise, but I've been thinking about it for a while, and between that and the fact that you were so interested in my possible relationship with Teddy…"
Speaking of whom, he has the most impeccably horrendous timing, Draco decides. Because he chooses that very moment to burst into Harry's office, along with Percy Weasley.
"Harry," Teddy blurts. "There's been this horrible misunderstanding--"
Harry's mouth twitches. "Yes, Teddy, we've worked that bit out."
Teddy looks from Harry to Draco, as if he's just noticed him there. "Oh. Good. So you know I'm not…"
"You made quite a mess of things, do you know that?" Percy suddenly scolds, glaring at Draco. "You really shouldn't go about spreading rumors that have no basis in reality."
"What are you doing here?" Draco asks irritably.
Teddy shoves his hands in his pockets. "Well, Percy confronted me about my alleged relationship with Harry."
Harry's eyebrows shoot up. "Where did he…?" Then he glances at Draco, and sighs.
"And of course, this was after leaving me a dear john letter last night," Teddy adds, giving Percy a bit of an admonishing look.
At this point, Draco notices that Percy isn't just standing beside Teddy--his arm is around his waist, and hand resting just low enough that the meaning is quite clear.
"Bloody hell, you're the one shagging him!" Draco points.
Percy rolls his eyes. Even while groping a man half his age, he looks completely fastidious. "Not that it should be anyone's business, but yes. For quite a while now."
Draco doesn't want to break it to him that the secret is apparently out. He re-runs the conversation with Lee and Padma in his head, and feels like an idiot for jumping to conclusions. Still, who would have thought… Percy. He represses a shudder.
"Once we figured things out, I remembered what you told me about thinking that Draco's interested in Victoire," Teddy adds, looking at Harry. "I figured it was part of the misunderstanding, so thought we should, uh… come make sure that you don't punch him or something."
"No, I didn't punch him," Harry says, a smile twitching at his lips as he looks at Draco.
"Actually, you interrupted his confession of love," Draco says matter-of-factly.
All three of them stare at him.
"What? It's true. Right, Harry?"
Harry clears his throat. "Well, that is--"
"And I was just about to grab him by the collar and drag him up to kiss me, but you've all bloody well ruined the moment." Draco crosses his arms over his chest.
Harry's cheeks go slightly pink, Teddy grins like a maniac, and Percy straightens his tie, muttering, "Well, really."
Teddy grabs Percy's hand and tugs. "I think we should leave the two of them alone."
Percy looks at Draco. "I still expect those invoices done by the end of the--" But he's cut off by Teddy dragging him out of the room.
Draco hears Teddy saying, "It's about bloody time, Harry's been agonizing over it for months…"
Alone with Harry now, Draco pushes the door closed with his toe.
"You were saying something about grabbing my collar?" Harry offers weakly.
Draco grins, crosses the room, and sits on the edge of Harry's desk, right in front of him. He leans in, breathing lightly against Harry's neck before he speaks.
"We should have told Teddy to bring us some scones. We might be in here for a while."