Chapter Text
Hélène was waiting outside her building in South Kensington when Draco arrived. He lowered the car window, checked his watch, then looked at her.
"What happened?"
"Good morning to you too."
"You're early."
"Yes."
"Has the time changed?"
Hélène opened the door.
"If you carry on, I'll go back inside and do this properly."
She settled beside him with a bag far too large for a Saturday morning. Draco waited for her to pull her scarf clear of the door before closing it.
"Have you brought luggage?"
"I'm working."
"For how long?"
"I don't know. It depends how many questions you ask."
The driver pulled away.
Hélène regarded him with interest.
"You came to pick me up."
"We were going to the same place."
"You still came to pick me up."
"I can ask him to stop, if you'd prefer."
She settled the bag on her lap.
"No, I'm very happy."
Draco adjusted his cuff. Hélène began looking for something. She took out a pencil case, her phone, two receipts and a small tin of mints.
"You could have chosen a bag you can find things in."
"I can find things perfectly well."
She put the pencil case back. Draco waited.
"What are you looking for?"
"My accreditation."
He indicated the outer pocket, where the end of a lanyard was hanging out. Hélène looked. She retrieved the pass.
"How did you know?"
"It was visible."
She slipped the lanyard over her head and freed the hair caught beneath it.
"Very observant."
Draco turned towards the window.
"Potter's already there," he said.
Hélène looked up.
"Did he text you?"
"He sent the times yesterday."
"Just the times?"
"What else should he have sent?"
She opened the tin.
"Nothing. Want one?"
"No."
"Are you sure? You're a bit..."
"I'm perfectly all right."
Hélène put a mint in her mouth. The silence lasted two streets.
"I met someone interesting this week," she said.
Draco looked at the bag.
"Your pass wasn't lost, Hélène."
"That's not what I meant."
"Do go on."
She settled more comfortably in her seat.
"A researcher. Neville Longbottom."
"Longbottom?"
"Do you know him?"
"The name. I think he works with one of the research teams."
"He does."
"And where did you meet him?"
"At a project meeting."
Hélène had begun speaking to people about compounds found in cannabis and their possible use in treating sports injuries. So far, Draco had received three versions of the idea, two complaints about slow replies and one message asking whether a particular director always wrote like that. He did.
"He knows a great deal about the botanical side," she went on. "And he asked good questions."
"A new experience for you."
"You'd have enjoyed it. We spent fifteen minutes discussing exactly what I meant by one word."
"Which one?"
"'Promising.'"
Draco inclined his head.
"It is a word that invites considerable abuse."
"You'd like him very much."
"I'm beginning to consider it."
Hélène folded her arms.
"But then he made a joke."
Draco waited.
"About roots."
He went on waiting.
"I'm not repeating it."
"You brought it up."
"It was very bad."
"Then why do you remember it?"
Hélène looked out of the window.
"Because he explained it."
Draco smiled.
"And then he did it again," she added.
"The explanation?"
"The joke."
"Perhaps he thought you'd understand it this time."
Hélène gave a short laugh. Draco watched her.
"You laughed."
"It was nerves."
"Naturally."
She picked up her phone.
"Anyway, we're going to speak again."
"About roots?"
"Draco."
He looked out at the street again. For a few minutes, Hélène told him what she wanted to take to the next meeting. Draco listened, asked two questions and was accused of imitating Neville, although he considered both questions relevant. When they arrived, she was still defending an expression he found vague.
✦ ✦ ✦
The warm air of the aquatic centre hit Draco as soon as they stepped through the doors. He stopped. Hélène was already taking off her coat.
"It's hot."
"It's an indoor pool."
"I noticed."
"You can take your coat off."
"I intend to."
She took it before he had finished deciding where to put it.
"I'll leave it with mine."
"Don't crease it."
Hélène looked at him.
"Hélène Marguerite," Draco added.
"Oh. So it's serious."
She folded the coat with conspicuous care. Draco followed her down the corridor, watching people who appeared to know exactly where they were going. Hélène greeted two, stopped to speak to a third and ended up introducing him to a man who shook his hand while looking at his own phone. Draco decided not to like him.
"I need to sort something out first," Hélène said. "You can go up to the stands."
"I can wait."
"I'll be a while."
"How long?"
"I don't know."
He looked down the corridor.
"Where's Potter?"
Hélène smiled. Draco raised an eyebrow.
"It's a perfectly reasonable question."
"He's getting ready."
"I didn't ask what he was doing."
"I can try to find out the exact room, if you like."
Draco held out his hand.
"My ticket."
She gave it to him.
"Don't argue with anyone while I'm gone."
"Your requests cover rather a lot."
✦ ✦ ✦
Draco found an acceptable seat in the stands. He sat down, laid the programme across his knees and surveyed the pool. The view was good. There were too many people, but that appeared to be part of the arrangement. He checked the times.
His phone vibrated.
Are you here?
Draco replied:
Yes.
A few seconds later:
Where?
He looked up.
Harry was on the other side, near a passage leading to the athletes' area. He was wearing a training T-shirt, holding his goggles and searching for something among the spectators. Draco raised a hand.
Harry saw him. He smiled. Then he pointed towards a staircase at the side. Draco hesitated only long enough to establish that no one was watching his decision.
He stood.
✦ ✦ ✦
"You came," Harry said as he approached.
"You invited me."
"I know."
Harry seemed rather pleased with how the system worked. Draco looked at the goggles in his hand.
"Hélène's busy."
"She told me she was coming to work."
"And she's left me on my own."
"You've managed well."
"It's early yet."
Harry laughed. His hair was dry this time, though not much improved. He seemed attentive to several things at once: the conversation, the movement behind Draco, someone passing through the door. A man called him. Harry raised a finger to indicate he was coming.
"I need to get back."
"Of course."
"See you afterwards?"
Draco adjusted his sleeve.
"I imagine so."
Harry looked at him for a moment.
"I'm glad you came."
Draco could hear water, voices, a distant whistle.
"I hope the interview's better this time."
Harry smiled.
"I'll do my best."
He walked away, but looked back before going through the door. Draco stood there for another second. Then he went upstairs.
✦ ✦ ✦
Hélène arrived a few minutes before the race. She sat beside him and sighed.
"There."
Draco handed her the programme.
"Was something wrong?"
"Someone needed an answer yesterday and only thought to ask today."
"A popular practice."
"I should charge for it."
She searched the page for Harry's name.
"Which lane?"
Draco told her.
Hélène looked at him.
"I was reading," he explained.
"I didn't say anything."
She opened a bottle of water. Two men behind them began discussing the swimmers. One confused Harry's name with someone else's. Draco turned his head slightly. Hélène rested a hand on his arm.
"No."
"He's wrong."
"He'll survive."
The man carried on talking. Draco tightened his grip on the programme.
When Harry appeared, the conversation ceased to interest him. He was familiar and, at the same time, slightly different from the man who had occupied Harry's kitchen that morning. Draco watched him adjust his goggles, roll his shoulders and wait. Beside him, Hélène closed the bottle.
The race began.
Draco leaned forward.
For a while, he had a fairly clear sense of who was where. Then the movements seemed too fast, the water obscured important details, and a man two rows down stood up.
"Sit down," Draco said.
Hélène caught his arm.
"He's about to-"
"He's in the way."
The man sat. Hélène leaned forward too. Draco tried to watch Harry and the swimmer beside him at the same time. He couldn't decide whether one was ahead of the other.
"Come on," Hélène said softly.
Draco didn't reply. Near the finish, she tightened her grip on his arm.
"Come on, Harry."
He was perfectly aware that Potter couldn't hear her. He was also aware that he didn't want her to stop. When they finished, both looked up at the results.
Harry had come second. Hélène let go of his arm.
"Good race."
Draco examined the numbers.
"It was close."
"It was."
Behind them, the man with the wrong name offered an opinion. Draco turned. Hélène tugged at his sleeve.
"Don't spoil a good morning."
✦ ✦ ✦
They waited until they could see Harry afterwards.
Hélène had one last thing to sort out, leaving Draco beside a coffee machine he refused to consider an option. Harry appeared with wet hair and a bag over his shoulder.
"Well?"
Draco put his phone away.
"The man behind us should never have been allowed in."
Harry stopped.
"Was it that bad?"
"Your race was good. His analysis wasn't."
Harry smiled.
"Did you like it?"
"You nearly caught the other one at the end."
"Nearly."
"And the time-"
Harry interrupted him with a laugh.
"I meant did you enjoy yourself."
Draco looked at him.
"There were moments."
"Good."
Hélène appeared down the corridor.
"You finished strongly," she told Harry.
"I wish I'd started better."
"You can think about that later. Have you eaten?"
Harry looked at Draco.
"She asks that every time."
"Because every time you say 'in a minute'."
"In a minute," he said.
Hélène folded her arms. Draco considered the conflict with interest.
"Now I understand your assessments of his discipline."
She pointed at Harry.
"He does it to annoy me."
"I was answering."
"You were repeating an answer you already know annoys me."
Harry started laughing. Hélène turned to Draco.
"Don't encourage him."
"I haven't done anything."
"You have an expression."
He adjusted the coat over his arm.
"I would like to eat somewhere with chairs."
Harry lifted his bag.
"So would I."
Hélène started walking.
"Excellent. Settled."
✦ ✦ ✦
They found a table at a nearby restaurant.
Harry sat beside Draco, and Hélène took the chair opposite. She slipped the lanyard over her head, put her pass in her bag and opened the menu.
"I'm not working now."
"So I can order anything?" Harry asked.
She didn't look up.
"Yes."
"Even-"
"Harry, I don't choose your lunch."
Draco looked at him.
"Do you do this often?"
"She gets annoyed every time."
Hélène closed the menu.
"Because it wasn't funny the first time."
Draco remembered Neville. He smiled. She saw him.
"No."
"I haven't said anything."
Harry looked between them.
"What?"
"Hélène's met someone," Draco said.
"Draco."
"A researcher."
"She's interested in a project, Potter. A very promising project."
Hélène stretched her foot beneath the table. Draco moved his leg. Harry smiled.
"What researcher?"
She gave Draco a look before answering.
She spoke about the project for a while, uninterrupted this time. Harry asked different questions from Draco's, closer to the situations Hélène encountered at work, and the conversation changed pace.
Draco listened. She seemed pleased to have something concrete to discuss. When she disagreed with one of Harry's ideas, he wasn't offended; he explained what he had meant, and she thought for a few seconds before answering.
Lunch arrived. Hélène stole a chip from Draco's plate.
"You have chips," he said.
"They're still hot."
Harry pushed his own plate towards the middle.
"You can have some of mine."
Hélène thanked him and took another of Draco's. He looked at them both. Harry started laughing.
"It's a deliberate choice," Draco informed him.
"I know," Hélène said.
Over lunch, Harry told a story about a trip on which she had insisted she knew the way to the hotel.
"I did," Hélène said.
"We ended up at a different one."
"The same chain."
Harry lowered his fork, laughing. Draco looked at her.
"You did that in Paris."
Hélène sighed.
"Once."
"You practically live in Paris when you're in France."
"I don't live in all the hotels."
Harry turned to Draco.
"How did you find it in the end?"
"I asked someone."
"After I suggested it," she said.
Draco stared at her. Hélène drank some water.
✦ ✦ ✦
When lunch was over, Hélène checked her phone and looked pleased. Draco knew that expression.
"What?"
"We've managed to arrange the next meeting."
"With Longbottom?"
"Yes."
Harry picked up his coat.
"The one with the roots?"
Hélène looked at Draco. He spread his hands.
"You told the story over lunch."
"You didn't have to tell the part about the joke."
"It was the best part."
"It was the worst."
Harry was still smiling when he turned to Draco.
"Will you come to the next competition?"
Draco stopped adjusting his cuff.
"That depends on the date."
"I'll send it to you."
"And the time."
"I'll send that too."
Hélène put her phone away.
"Very organised, Harry."
"I'm trying to make it easy."
Draco put on his coat.
"I haven't confirmed anything yet."
"I know," Harry said.
The three of them walked towards the exit. Hélène took Draco's arm while Harry went ahead to hold the door.
"It was a good morning," she said.
Draco looked at Harry, waiting by the street.
Then at his friend.
"Apart from the spectators."
"Obviously."
She squeezed his arm. He didn't pull away.
