Chapter Text
Harry returned from the pool with damp hair and a paper bag beneath his arm. Draco sat at the kitchen table in a light shirt, sleeves rolled, reading the newspaper. There was a cup before him and another at Harry's place.
"You bought food," he observed over the page.
"Very good observation. I brought a few things for you to practise on."
Harry left the bag on the table and removed his coat. Draco folded the paper.
"From that bakery?"
"Good morning to you too."
"Good morning. From that bakery?"
Harry took out two loaves, a smaller parcel and a box. Draco watched closely.
"Their bread has excessive crust."
"You ate four slices yesterday."
"I was hungry."
Harry opened the box. Inside were two almond croissants. Draco looked at them, then Harry.
"Those are acceptable."
"What a relief."
Harry put one on his plate and fetched a knife. On his return, Draco was carefully removing a flaked almond from his shirtsleeve.
"You haven't started and you're already covered."
"The bakery has an adhesion problem."
Harry sat, smiling. The cup Draco had left for him contained coffee. Milk stood beside it in a small jug Harry didn't remember owning before that week. He helped himself without comment.
"Has Ron called?" Draco asked.
"Not yet."
"He must be reviewing the proposal."
"He's probably asleep."
"Five months with a ring in a drawer. I wouldn't rule out an evaluation meeting."
Harry laughed with his mouth full, and Draco pushed a napkin towards him. The phone rang before Harry reached it. Draco checked his own display.
"Finally."
He answered looking prepared to receive good news and explain why it was late.
"Yes?"
Harry buttered his bread.
"Today?"
The knife paused. Draco leaned back.
"Have all the fittings been checked?"
A pause.
"Including the bathroom?"
Harry looked up.
"The main one," Draco clarified, giving him a stern look although Harry hadn't spoken.
He listened a few more seconds.
"And the finish by the sitting-room window?"
Harry put down his knife.
"Right. Yes. Eleven."
Draco ended the call and set the phone beside his plate. He picked up his cup.
"The flat's ready."
"Great."
"So they say."
"You don't believe them?"
"The construction industry allows remarkably generous interpretations of 'ready'."
Harry checked the kitchen clock.
"Would you like me to come?"
Draco looked up.
"Didn't you have something to do?"
"Later."
"You don't need to."
"I know."
Draco sipped his tea. Harry waited.
"A second person might be useful," Draco conceded. "To check they haven't missed anything."
"You want me to find something wrong with the flat?"
"Potter."
"I can start with the main bathroom."
"Do you know anything about finishes?"
"I know when a wall's there."
Draco looked at him for two seconds. Then pulled his croissant plate a little closer.
✦ ✦ ✦
Hélène arrived at ten twenty, a bag on her shoulder and a small parcel in her hand. Harry opened the door.
"Is he ready?"
"He's choosing a coat."
"So he isn't."
She came in, kissed Harry's cheek and handed him the parcel.
"Your bowl."
Harry opened a corner of the paper. It was the bowl in which he had taken something to dinner at her flat.
"You didn't need to bring it."
"I did. It spent three days in my car. Yesterday it started making me feel dishonest."
Draco appeared in the hall. Hélène looked at his coat.
"That one."
Draco stopped.
"I didn't ask for an opinion."
"I've saved fifteen minutes."
She wore dark-blue trousers and a plum wool jumper. Her hair was carelessly pinned, a long strand loose beside her face. As she removed her scarf, an earring caught in it.
"Shit."
Harry reached out, but Draco was already beside her.
"Keep still."
"I am."
"You're pulling."
"Because I'm being strangled by an accessory."
Draco freed the earring, unwound the scarf and returned it.
"There."
Hélène touched her ear.
"Thank you. You could have done that without looking like a disappointed surgeon."
"You could have dressed without having an accident."
She smiled and went to the kitchen. Harry followed them.
"Coffee?"
"Yes."
"She hasn't time," Draco said.
Hélène sat in the chair he had just vacated.
"I have time for coffee."
Draco checked the clock. So did she.
"It's ten twenty-three."
"We need to be in Mayfair at eleven."
"Your flat isn't going anywhere."
Harry fetched a third cup. Hélène found the box on the table and lifted the lid. Half a croissant remained.
"Whose?"
"Mine," Draco said.
She broke off a piece.
"Ours now."
"Hélène Marguerite."
"Oh, no. The full name over three almonds."
Harry turned towards the cupboard. Draco saw his shoulders move.
"Laugh away, Potter. She'll steal your lunch when she's finished my breakfast."
"I returned a bowl," Hélène protested. "I came on a mission of restitution."
Harry set her coffee down. Hélène looked at Draco's cup, the milk jug, the two plates.
"You had breakfast together?"
"We're in the same house," Draco replied.
"An extraordinary geographical coincidence."
Harry sat on the worktop.
"The flat's ready."
"I know. I received a six-minute phone call about it."
Draco straightened his sleeve.
"Four."
"It felt like six."
Hélène sipped the coffee and grimaced. Harry reached for her cup.
"Is it bad?"
"Hot."
"You just watched me pour it."
"I was busy."
Draco pushed the rest of the croissant towards her. Hélène took another piece without asking. For a moment, all three remained in the kitchen: Harry against the worktop, Draco standing by the table, Hélène blowing on her coffee with the determination of someone expecting to defeat temperature. Her phone vibrated in her bag. She found it after removing a diary, a pencil case and a crumpled receipt. She read the message. Her smile arrived before she finished. Draco tilted his head.
"Longbottom?"
"Yes."
"What happened?"
"Nothing."
He held out his hand. Hélène moved the phone away.
"Have you lost your mind?"
"I asked what happened."
"And I answered."
Harry took the empty box to the bin. Hélène typed with both thumbs, deleted it and began again. Draco watched.
"For someone with time for coffee, you're very busy."
"I'm confirming a time."
"With such complex punctuation?"
She looked up.
"Draco, eat an almond."
Harry laughed. Hélène finished the message and put her phone away.
"I'm having lunch with him afterwards."
"Research?" Harry asked.
"That too."
Draco looked at her. She drank more coffee.
"Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"As though you've just discovered an irregularity in an acquisition."
"I was only going to ask whether you'd chosen somewhere with chairs."
Hélène narrowed her eyes. Harry was immediately interested.
"Why?"
"Neville suggested a walk through a garden before lunch," she explained.
"And she rang to complain," Draco added.
"I didn't complain. I asked what shoes I should wear."
"For nine minutes."
Hélène put down her cup.
"You pay a lot of attention to the length of my calls."
"I've been suffering through them for years."
She took the last piece of croissant and stood. Passing Draco, she smoothed a fold in his coat collar, a quick gesture that didn't interrupt her speech.
"Let's see your marble, then. I need to be free by noon."
Draco looked at the collar she had adjusted.
"You need to cross the city by then."
"So you have an hour to suffer."
✦ ✦ ✦
The Mayfair flat was immaculate. From the start, this was an obstacle. The man overseeing the work opened the door and led them through the sitting room. Light entered through tall windows; the furniture was back in place; the surfaces were free of dust. Draco ran a hand along a shelf. His finger came away clean. Harry stayed near the window, looking at the street. Hélène left her bag on an armchair and surveyed the room.
"It looks lovely."
"Thank you," the man said before Draco could answer.
They inspected the bathroom. The tap worked. The water drained. There was no fault in the finish by the window. Harry crouched to examine a joint Draco had indicated.
"The wall's still there."
Hélène turned away very quickly. Draco waited for her to recover.
"I'd like to check the hot water."
The man turned on the tap. Shortly afterwards, Draco put his fingers in the stream. It was hot. Hélène rested a shoulder against the doorframe.
"My condolences."
Draco gave her a look. The man pretended not to hear. Once they finished, he explained the final details, handed over documents and left. The door closed behind him. Hélène crossed the room, picked up her bag and checked her wristwatch.
"I have to go."
"You've only just arrived," Draco said.
"I arrived forty minutes ago."
Harry looked at her.
"Where are you meeting Neville?"
Hélène named the garden and added:
"If it rains, I'll make him appreciate plants from inside a restaurant."
"Sounds fair."
She adjusted her bag and looked around once more.
"It really is beautiful, Draco."
He followed her gaze.
"Yes."
Hélène came close, briefly touched his arm and lowered her voice.
"You don't need to decide everything today."
Draco looked at her.
"I know."
"Good."
She moved away before he had to add anything. At the door, she kissed Harry's cheek.
"Look after him. He's suffering from a successful renovation."
"Is it serious?"
"For the patient, very."
"I am here," Draco said.
"I know, darling. That's what makes it so convenient."
✦ ✦ ✦
Neville stood by the garden entrance when Hélène arrived. His dark coat was open despite the wind. Seeing her, he slipped something into his pocket and smiled. She kissed him on the mouth. Neville kept a hand at her waist for a moment.
"The flat?"
"Ready."
"Did he like it?"
"He's still looking for a way not to."
Neville laughed. Hélène looked at the pocket where he had put the object.
"What was that?"
"The map."
"You've studied the route already?"
"A little."
She held out her hand. Neville passed it over. There were two pen marks and an arrow. Hélène looked up.
"You planned a walk."
"You said you needed to be back early."
She looked at the map again.
"That's very thoughtful."
Neville looked pleased.
"I also wanted to avoid passing the same flowerbed three times."
Hélène folded the paper and returned it.
"You nearly managed to accept the compliment."
"I can try again."
"It's artificial now."
He took her hand. They walked a few yards before Neville said:
"I thought of something about the samples."
Hélène turned, interested. He began explaining. She asked a question, then another, and interrupted his answer to disagree. Neville stopped beside a flowerbed.
"That isn't what I said."
"It was almost what you said."
"The 'almost' is doing quite a lot of work in that sentence."
Hélène opened her mouth, closed it and looked at him. Neville waited.
"All right," she conceded. "Explain it again."
He did. This time, Hélène listened to the end, then squeezed his fingers.
"Yes. That could work."
Neville smiled.
"Are you surprised?"
"Don't spoil it."
He drew her a little closer as they walked. Hélène didn't check her watch.
✦ ✦ ✦
Draco stood in the middle of the sitting room when Harry returned from the kitchen.
"Your fridge is switched off."
"I know."
"I thought you might want water."
Draco looked at the windows. A faint sound reached them from the street, muffled by the glass. Everything else was silent. Harry came closer.
"Will you bring your things today?"
"Perhaps some."
"I can help."
Draco surveyed the room.
"There aren't many."
Harry knew the two suitcases, coats, shoes and objects that had gradually appeared in Fulham.
"Right."
Draco looked at him.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You made a face."
"I'm trying to work out whether I can carry a suitcase that's light because it only contains essentials."
Draco took another step closer.
"You're very funny today."
Harry smiled.
"So are you."
Draco's gaze dropped to his mouth. Harry kissed him before he found an answer. It didn't last long. Draco caught the front of his coat, and Harry's hand remained behind his neck even after they parted.
"Dinner with me tomorrow?" he asked.
Draco raised an eyebrow.
"We've been having dinner together."
"I want to take you to dinner."
Draco went quiet. Harry gave him time to understand.
"Out," he added, simply for the pleasure of his reaction.
"I'm familiar with the concept of a restaurant, Potter."
"Good. So?"
"Where?"
Harry laughed.
"You can say yes first."
Draco straightened Harry's collar, though nothing was wrong with it.
"Yes."
Harry's smile made dignity harder to maintain. Draco released the fabric.
"But I would like to know where."
"I'm choosing."
"You've only just invited me and you're already being difficult."
"Tomorrow at eight."
"Harry."
"I'll pick you up."
Draco looked around, then back at him.
"That would be rather laborious."
"Why?"
"I'll still be in Fulham."
Harry made no attempt to disguise his smile.
"Then we'll leave together."
Draco picked up the documents and went to the door.
"And you can tell me the name on the way."
Harry followed.
"I can."
Draco stopped with his hand on the handle.
"Can, or will?"
Harry kissed him again. The folder was trapped between them. Draco made a small protesting noise, switched it to his other hand and pulled Harry back when he tried to move away.