Day 184

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Harry's breath is coming out in white puffs in the chilly November air as they exit the Muggle car.

"Wait here. We'll just be a few minutes," Harry says, handing the driver a wad of paper Muggle money.

"Yes, sir," the man says.

Draco is trying not to let his eyes linger on the other man too long. Hermione was obviously involved in preparing him for the outing; he has what can only be Sleekeazy's Hair Potion in his hair, transforming his unruly raven curls into something softer and shinier, falling over his forehead in a way that looks intentional. He's also dressed extremely formally in dark grey slacks, shiny shoes, and a wool coat that does nothing to hide the fit body Draco knows is underneath. He wonders idly if Harry, with his leather gloves and dark green scarf topping off the look, has any earthly idea just how good he looks. From the way he's fidgeting as they stop in front of the door, Draco doesn't think he does.

"Ready?" Draco asks, reaching out with a gloved hand of his own and knocking on the door. Harry nods, eyes flickering with fear behind his glasses. Draco reaches out and gives his arm a squeeze. "It'll be okay, Harry."

There's movement inside the house, and then the door creaks open and a pair of wide blue eyes peer up at them. "Hello?"

Harry's whole demeanor softens at the sight of the child, and he crouches down to her level. "Hello, I'm Harry. I'm here to see your dad. Is he home?"

A nod.

"Violet? Who's at the door?"

A woman around their age comes into view. She has chestnut brown hair curled into ringlets and warm brown eyes that light up her round face. "Oh! Hello. You must be Harry, Dudley told us you were stopping by tonight. Come in, I'll send Violet to go and fetch him." She smiled politely and ushered them inside. "Go get your dad, sugarplum."

"Yes, Mum."

The child disappears up the stairs, and the woman turns to smile at them again. "Tea?"

Harry shifts uncomfortably. "Oh, er..."

"Thank you for the kind offer, but we can't stay," Draco says politely, and Harry shoots him a grateful look.

"Let's wait for Dudley in the parlor, I'm sure he's just getting your parent's things. There are a few boxes."

Harry glances at the locked cupboard door under the stairs as they pass on their way to the parlor, a strange, sickly expression on his face that he quickly suppresses, forcing a polite smile.

"So, you grew up here, too?" Dudley's wife asks Harry. "Please, sit down." She sits on the smaller loveseat, leaving Harry and Draco to sit on the sofa.

"I did," Harry says. "Until I was seventeen."

"Ah yes, quite the wild teen you must have been running away like that. But look at you now, you've turned out alright, haven't you?"

Harry coughs uncomfortably. "Right. Yeah. So you're Dudley's...?"

"Oh! I'm sorry, I forgot introductions. I'm Charlotte, well Lottie really, no one calls me Charlotte. Dudley and I got married about five years ago. And of course you met our little Violet, she's three."

"That's great. This is my friend, Draco." Harry's smile was still forced, but Lottie didn't seem to notice as she reached out to shake Draco's hand. They heard Violet's high-pitched voice and footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Ah, that'll be Dudley. So, Harry, which bedroom was yours?"

Harry goes very still beside him, and Draco abruptly remembers the look on Harry's face as the walked past the cupboard, horror flooding through him as he makes the connection. He gasps softly, eyes going wide as Harry turns to look at him. "No," Draco whispers.

Harry shakes his head subtly, not to disagree, but to silently plead with Draco not to say anything. It's infuriatingly clear that Lottie has no idea how he was treated. She's been imagining him and Dudley growing up as brothers with equally happy childhoods. Draco wants to smash that image to smithereens, but the fearful, pleading look in Harry's eyes prevents him.

"Harry was in the first bedroom on the left when you go upstairs, Lot," a deep voice said from the doorway. "The one we've converted into my office."

Dudley Dursley came into view, or as much as he could with three boxes in his arms.

Lottie smiles again, and Draco wants to scream at her about just how wrong she is, but the shattered look in Harry's eyes, the only evidence in his expression that anything is amiss, forces Draco to hold his tongue.

"Well, I suppose that makes sense. It's a bit smaller, and I imagine you've always been a bit smaller than Dudley, haven't you?" Lottie continues in her friendly voice, blissfully ignorant.

Dudley sets the boxes down, and Draco gets his first look at Harry's cousin. The man is enormous, but well-built, as if he spends a fair amount of time at the gym. His blonde hair is smooth and starting to thin on top, his blue eyes intent on his cousin. He's watching Harry nervously, waiting for him to ruin whatever story he and his parents have concocted to keep his wife from running away screaming in revulsion. But Harry doesn't, he just stands and holds his hand out for his cousin to shake.

"You look good, Dudley."

"Er, you too." Dudley shifts nervously from foot to foot. "So, these have been in the attic. Mum and Dad never said a word, but I imagine they arrived around the same time you did."

"Right," Harry nods and stands. "Well, thanks. We'd better be going, then."

"Right."

"Oh, are you sure you can't stay for tea?" Lottie says, "we were just getting to know each other."

Draco wonders how Dudley Dursley ever won over such a sweet, naïve woman. He has to force the politeness back into his voice.

"I'm afraid we have another engagement this evening," he says smoothly, and Dudley's eyes land on him for the first time, widening in surprise. "Draco Malfoy," Draco stands and reaches out to offer his hand to shake, fully aware that his smile doesn't reach his eyes.

"Dudley Dursley," Dudley says. "So you're Harry's..."

"His friend, yes," Draco responds curtly, pulling Harry up by the hand. He knows exactly how the situation is being interpreted, but he can't bring himself to care. "Grab a box, Harry. The car is waiting."

"Right," Harry lifts the top two boxes, his eyebrows lifting in surprise when Draco picks up the third. "I can come back for that one."

"You're not stepping back inside this house again for the rest of your life if I can help it," Draco whispers.

Harry swallows hard in response and whispers back, "thanks, Draco." Then louder: "Thanks for these, Dudley. Bye Lottie, it was nice to meet you," he glances up at the child peeking around the corner at the top of the staircase, "and you, Violet."

"Goodbye, Harry."

The car ride home is silent. As soon as they make it through the door to Grimmauld Place, Harry sets the boxes down and drops to his knees, violent sobs wracking his entire body. Draco kneels too, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him against his chest, hoping that holding Harry while he cries will help ease the aching there, too.

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