Chapter Text
By twenty to six, Draco was dressed. By ten to six, he no longer was. Hélène, settled in an armchair in the Mayfair sitting room, heard a door open and close for the third time. She went on leafing through the magazine she had found on the table. When he reappeared, she looked over the page.
"I preferred the other one."
Draco stopped.
"You haven't even seen the other one."
"I saw it when I went to the bathroom."
"You said you were in a hurry."
"I am. You're the one who asked me to wait."
He glanced at the clock. Dinner was still two hours away. Hélène followed his gaze and smiled. Draco adjusted a cuff.
"This shirt was hanging in the wrong wardrobe."
"What a terrible experience."
"They haven't put everything back in order yet."
"I'd sue someone."
He ignored her and went to the mirror above the fireplace. Hélène turned a page. She had dropped in to return a folder Draco had left at her flat and give an opinion on the position of two armchairs. The armchairs were still where they had been. Draco, meanwhile, seemed determined to change everything else.
"Do you know the restaurant?" he asked.
Hélène looked up.
"Which one?"
Draco told her.
"I do."
"And?"
"They serve food."
He turned.
"Hélène."
"Good food, Draco. You'll survive."
She returned to the magazine. Draco stayed in front of the mirror for a few more seconds.
"I'm not worried."
"Good."
"I only asked whether you knew it."
"And I answered."
He ran his fingers through his hair. Hélène slowly lowered the magazine.
"Touch it any more and you'll have to wash it again."
Draco took his hand away.
"Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Yes. Which is why I'm waiting for you to give me my earring back."
He looked at the table beside the mirror. On it lay two small earrings, a box and the scarf she had taken off when she arrived. Draco picked up one of the earrings.
"This one."
"It took you fifteen minutes to decide?"
"I was doing other things."
Hélène got up to collect it. She wore a dark green dress beneath her open coat, with boots reaching just below her knees. Her hair hung loose over her shoulders. Draco looked at her more closely.
"Where are you going?"
"His place."
He raised an eyebrow. Hélène fastened the first earring.
"You can lower that."
"I haven't said anything."
"Your face has no discretion whatsoever."
She tilted her head to put on the other one. Draco studied the dress.
"Is it new?"
"No."
"I haven't seen it."
"You don't keep an inventory of my clothes."
He opened his mouth. Hélène pointed at him.
"Don't answer that."
Draco smiled. She checked her earrings in the mirror, picked up her bag and looked at his shirt again.
"That one's good."
"I know."
Hélène smoothed the lapel of the coat he had left on a chair.
"Harry will think so too."
Draco took the coat from her hands.
"You're very sure of yourself."
"I'm hungry. There's a difference."
He walked her to the door. Before leaving, Hélène turned and adjusted a lock of his hair with two fingers. Draco drew his head away.
"You've just told me to stop touching it."
"I know what I'm doing."
"A statement that preceded some of the worst incidents of my adolescence."
She laughed, kissed his cheek and opened the door.
"Have fun."
"You too."
Hélène was already in the corridor when he added:
"And call if you need anything."
She looked back.
"All right."
Then she smiled.
"You too."
✦ ✦ ✦
Harry opened the door in Fulham wearing a dark blue shirt. Draco took a second longer than he would have liked to greet him. Harry noticed that second.
"Hi."
"Hi."
Draco stepped inside and took off his gloves. Harry's coat lay over the arm of the sofa. There was a small pile of post on the table, with a glass of water beside it. Everything else looked excessively tidy. Draco looked towards the kitchen.
"Have you cleaned?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Harry picked up his coat.
"Because it was dirty."
Draco looked at him again. The shirt fitted his shoulders very well.
"You could have told me," Harry said. "I'd have picked you up in Mayfair."
"I had to come and collect a few things."
Harry looked at his empty hands. Draco put his gloves in his pocket.
"Later."
Harry smiled and switched off the sitting-room light.
✦ ✦ ✦
Neville opened the door with a tea towel over his shoulder. Hélène looked at the towel. Then at him.
"Are you cooking?"
"Yes."
"I could have brought something."
"You brought wine."
"Because you told me to."
"It worked very well."
She came in, handed him the bottle and took off her coat. Neville hung it by the door. When he turned back, Hélène caught the front of his shirt and kissed him. The towel fell. Neither of them immediately tried to retrieve it.
"Will dinner burn?" she asked, still close to his mouth.
Neville glanced towards the kitchen.
"Not yet."
"A worrying answer."
He bent to pick up the towel, took her hand and led her in. The flat had full bookshelves, a wooden table by the window and plants in places Hélène would have reserved for other things. Two pans stood on the hob. It smelt good. She stopped in front of the sideboard. On it sat a ceramic frog the size of a small watermelon. It was green and yellow. It was smiling. It wore a crown. Hélène stared. Neville opened a drawer.
"Would you like some water before the wine?"
"I'd like to understand the frog."
He followed her gaze.
"Ah."
"'Ah' doesn't help."
Neville took a corkscrew from the drawer.
"My gran gave it to me."
Hélène looked at the creature again.
"Does she like you?"
Neville laughed.
"Very much."
"All right."
She moved a little closer. Small red stones were glued to the crown.
"He used to be in her garden," Neville explained. "When I moved, she thought I needed something for the house."
"And chose the monarch of the amphibians."
"Exactly."
Hélène touched the crown with one finger. One of the stones was crooked.
"You do know he's hideous."
"Yes."
She turned her head.
"And you've left him here?"
"I like seeing him when I come home."
Hélène looked at him for a moment. Then back at the frog.
"I'm going to need wine."
Neville put two glasses on the table.
"He's frightened other people before."
Hélène turned quickly.
"Which people?"
Neville paused with the corkscrew in his hand. She waited. He began to smile.
"My aunt."
Hélène picked up an empty glass.
"Good. A sensible woman."
✦ ✦ ✦
At the restaurant, Harry gave his name and the maître d' led them to a table by the window. Draco surveyed the room as they walked. The lighting was good. The tables were sufficiently far apart. There was no loud music. Harry pulled out a chair and sat down after him. Draco opened the menu. Harry opened his own. For a few seconds, they read in silence. Draco looked up. Harry was already watching him.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Are you waiting for an assessment?"
Harry rested his menu on the table.
"Maybe."
Draco looked round once more.
"You chose well."
Harry smiled. Draco returned to his menu before the smile caused him any further difficulty. When the waiter arrived, Harry ordered the wine. When the bottle was presented, he checked the label carefully and tasted the small amount poured into his glass. Draco watched it all. Harry nodded to the waiter. Then, when they were alone, he let out a breath. Draco put down his menu.
"Were you nervous?"
"A bit."
"About the wine?"
Harry ran his thumb along the stem of his glass.
"About you watching the wine."
Draco blinked. Then laughed. So did Harry.
"I wasn't going to set you an exam."
"You asked about the finish on my bread this morning."
"The crust is an objective matter."
"Of course."
Draco took a sip. It was good. This was becoming an irritating habit. They ordered their food. Harry talked about training, about a teammate who had forgotten his goggles and tried to blame three different people, including one who wasn't in the country. Draco wanted to know which of the three defences had been most convincing.
"The man in Australia."
"A commonplace alibi, but effective."
Harry laughed and began another story. Draco listened. Harry talked with his hands more than he had noticed before. When he grew enthusiastic, he leaned closer to the table; sometimes he interrupted himself to remember a name, screwing up his whole face with the effort. At one point, he took a piece of bread while still talking and dropped a crumb on his own sleeve. Draco brushed it off. Harry looked at his fingers.
"Thank you."
"You need supervision."
"Apparently."
Draco left his hand near Harry's for a moment before drawing it back. When the food arrived, Harry waited for his first reaction. Draco tasted it. Harry watched his expression.
"It's good," Draco said.
"You sound surprised."
"I'm beginning to think you prepared for this."
Harry lowered his eyes to his plate.
"I asked a few things."
Draco put down his cutlery.
"Who?"
Harry hesitated. Draco stared at him.
"Hélène?"
"She's known you longer."
"What did you ask?"
"Whether there was anything you didn't eat."
Draco waited. Harry smiled.
"She said, 'In a restaurant? Very little. In your kitchen, he'll say everything.'"
Draco closed his eyes for a second.
"I'm going to ring her."
"Now?"
He picked up his glass.
"Tomorrow."
Harry went back to eating, still smiling.
✦ ✦ ✦
Hélène found the plates without opening more than two cupboards. Neville, at the hob, glanced over his shoulder.
"You can leave those. I'll get them."
"I've got them already."
"Then the cutlery's in the first drawer."
She opened it. The cutlery was sorted into small compartments. Hélène looked at the worktop. A set of kitchen scales stood beside a bowl, and there were three containers of prepared ingredients.
"Do you cook the way you work?"
Neville stirred the pan.
"What do you mean?"
"You look as though you're going to record the results."
"Only if it turns out very badly."
She took two knives.
"I'd have started before weighing everything."
"I thought you might."
Hélène looked up.
"Why?"
Neville turned off one of the burners.
"You'd have decided an amount looked sufficient."
"It often is."
"Often."
She carried the plates to the table. Neville followed with the serving dish and stood beside her as she moved a small plant pot to make room.
"That can go on the windowsill."
Hélène picked it up. Neville held out a hand.
"Careful. It's wet underneath."
Too late. She looked at the small stain on her palm. Neville offered her the towel. Hélène wiped her hand.
"You could have warned me sooner."
"You could have waited for me to finish the sentence."
She stared at him. Neville held her gaze, smiling a little. Hélène handed back the towel.
"Your frog's watching."
"He agrees with me."
"Naturally. An authoritarian regime."
Neville laughed and pulled out her chair. Dinner was good. Hélène said so twice, the second time towards the end. Neville looked pleased on both occasions. When he got up to clear the plates, she caught his wrist.
"Leave them a minute."
He looked at her hand. Then at her. He sat down again. Hélène ran her thumb along the inside of his wrist.
"Were you going to ask what I wanted for dessert?"
"I was."
"Good."
Neville leaned towards her. She kissed him before he could ask.
✦ ✦ ✦
Harry and Draco shared a dessert because Draco had said he didn't want one. The sharing was unequal. Harry made no comment until he lost the last piece. Draco put down his spoon.
"You could have said you wanted some."
"I ordered it."
"I thought you were taking the initiative on behalf of the table."
Harry laughed. The waiter took the plate away. Draco finished his wine, and Harry ordered coffee. When they were alone again, Harry leaned back and looked at him.
"Was it good?"
Draco tilted his head.
"Dinner?"
"Yes."
"Yes."
Harry nodded, satisfied. Draco ran a finger round the foot of his glass. There was an easier answer. He could comment on the dessert, make an observation about the service, ask where Harry had learnt to choose wine. Harry looked towards the window. Draco spoke before he turned back.
"I've been looking forward to this."
Harry looked at him again.
"To dinner?"
Draco paused briefly.
"That too."
Harry didn't smile immediately. He watched him with an attention that made Draco miss the menu, the waiter and any object behind which he might occupy himself for five seconds. Then Harry put his hand on the table, near Draco's.
"So have I."
Draco looked at the hand. He touched two fingers to Harry's. Harry held them. The coffee arrived, and they both had to move back a little to make room for the cup. Draco thanked the waiter with impeccable seriousness. Harry waited until he had gone.
"Want to share?"
Draco looked at the cup.
"The coffee?"
"I'm trying to establish that beforehand."
Draco laughed. This time, Harry looked rather proud of himself.
✦ ✦ ✦
When Hélène got up from the sofa to fetch some water, she noticed that Neville hadn't finished opening his post. The envelopes lay on a tray beside the frog. She looked at the crown. Then at the bookcase.
"Have you never thought of putting that somewhere else?"
Neville, still on the sofa, followed her gaze.
"I have."
"And?"
"He looks good here."
Hélène picked up the glass.
"We have very different criteria for that expression."
Neville held out his hand when she returned. She took it and sat down close to him.
"You're keeping the frog."
"Yes."
Hélène sighed. Neville put his arm round her shoulders.
"You don't have to look at him."
She tucked her legs up on the sofa.
"From here, he's looking at me."
Neville looked. The frog did, in fact, seem to be watching the entire room. He got up, crossed to the sideboard and turned it a quarter turn. Hélène began to laugh. Neville came back to the sofa.
"Better?"
She put her glass on the table and pulled him towards her by his shirt.
"Much."
✦ ✦ ✦
Harry opened the door in Fulham a little after eleven. Draco went in first and took off his coat. Harry switched on the hall light. The suitcases were still in the spare room. Draco's book lay on the arm of the sofa, a piece of paper marking his page. In the kitchen, the milk jug was still beside the sink. Harry hung up his coat and turned. Draco was still near the door.
"What is it?"
Draco looked down the hall.
"Nothing."
Harry came closer.
"You look as though you're thinking about something."
"It's a habit of mine."
"I've noticed."
Draco caught his shirtsleeve. Harry stopped close enough for their shoes to touch.
"I enjoyed tonight," he said.
"So did I."
Harry smiled. Draco tugged gently at his sleeve. The kiss began slowly. Harry rested a hand against his face; Draco spread his fingers over Harry's arm and brought him closer. When they drew apart, Harry kept his forehead against Draco's.
"Have you left anything in Mayfair?"
Draco thought of the silent sitting room, the tall windows, the unplugged fridge.
"Nothing I need right now."
Harry ran his thumb over his cheek. Draco kissed him again.