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Harry Potter and the Black King	By : Phoenixstrike Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 10586 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Harry Potter and all characters and situations are created and owned by JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Warner Bros. No money is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Chapter four: Malfoy’s Muggle Mayhem

It was a couple of days after Harry and Draco had agreed to try friendship when Draco suggested they both try and get out of Grimmauld Place for the day. Harry stared at him, incredulous.

“Draco, what planet are you living on exactly? I’ve got important stuff I need to be getting on with, and Voldemort and all the Death Eaters will be looking for us! We can’t exactly just take a day trip to Diagon Alley, or have a leisurely stroll through Hogsmeade” Harry had reasoned. Draco had pouted and sulked when Harry had said this which caused the darker boy to sigh in exasperation.

“Potter, I’m bored! There’s nothing to do, your books are all crap and I’m fed up! There must be something we can do. Please?”

“Why don’t you go and have a lovely talk about the good old days your great aunt again?” Harry chortled whilst Draco scowled. Harry was referring to the incident the previous day when Remus had shut the door too loudly on his way out and woke Walburga Black up. The portrait was in the middle of her usual screeching and condemning of all ‘filthy blood traitors and mudbloods’ when she spotted Draco and her expression had changed.

“Dragon!” she had called, the delight evident in her voice. “My ickle Drakey poo! Is that really you? My my haven’t you grown? Come and talk with your favourite auntie for a while!” Harry had turned away, shoulders shaking in poorly disguised laughter, as Draco’s face went from neutral, to confused, and finally settled on horrified realisation all in the space of ten seconds. His cheeks flushed and his eyes widened. He turned to face Harry.

“Harry” he had snarled under his breath, “Why the fuck is your house the Black residence and what is she doing on your wall?”

“Sirius left Grimmauld Place to me” he had replied, still chuckling. “That’s Sirius’ mum. Your mum’s auntie I think. Only just recognised the house have you? You’ve been here a week.”

“I was asleep for three days of that, and besides, it looks different now to when I was here as a child. Also I was only five years old when I last visited and came here with mother who nursed Great Aunt Walburga whilst the old Bat was dying. She always called me… well you heard what she called me”. Draco blushed a deep shade of scarlet and Harry had to force back another grin. “But why is she still on your wall?”

“Permanent sticking charm. Can’t get her down. I think she wants to talk to you. Catch up on Black family gossip. It’s rude to keep a lady waiting you know” before turning for the kitchen, laughing all the way. Draco hadn’t managed to escape for two hours and when he finally emerged in the kitchen and Harry had gazed up from his copy of Quidditch Weekly when Draco entered the look on his face had instantly convinced Harry that it was best to keep his mouth shut.

Draco shuddered at the memory. “I’m not talking to that senile old woman again” he said in a disgusted tone. Harry smiled at him. Maybe he could have just one day off his research for Horcrux locations.

“There is one possibility, but you probably won’t like it” he said. Draco cocked his head to indicate he was listening. “We go out for the day. In muggle London”.

Draco narrowed his eyes and glared at Harry. “Absolutely not” he replied icily.

“Why not? We’re not likely to have a bunch of death eaters tailing us for one thing, and it will be something new. You might even have fun” Harry teased.

“I’m not going to spend a day with bloody muggles doing stupid muggle things” Draco replied stubbornly.

“That’s fine” said Harry, perfectly cheerfully. “I guess we’ll just have to find something to do around here after all then. Shall we go and look at the library again? We might be able to find some books published after the 1950s if we look hard enough.” He opened the drawing room door for Draco. “After you, Drakey Poo”.

Draco stood to the spot. Harry could almost see the cogs whirring in Draco’s mind, the conflicting parts of his brain battling for the victory. The whole scene greatly amused Harry. Eventually the part of Draco that really, really just wanted to get out of the house before he suffered cabin fever triumphed over the anti-muggle part. He threw his arms into the air in a submissive gesture.

“Fine!” he yelled. “Tomorrow then”. Then he stormed out of the room. Harry’s eyes followed him out of the room and up the stairs, whilst his lips curled at the sides. He felt quite proud that at that moment he had behaved just as Slytherin as his former nemesis, and came out on top.

*****

“I can’t go out in public wearing this”.

“Why not?”

“Cos I look fucking stupid”

“You look fine”

“You would say that. You have the worst dress sense in the world and seem to dress in the first items your hands touch in the morning”

“Then use a charm to improve them if you don’t like them”

“They’ll still be awful. You can’t polish a turd, Potter”

“Fine. Then wear big floaty wizarding robes in Muggle London, which won’t get you stared at at all. See if I care. It’s my muggle clothes or your wizarding robes. Take your pick.”

“Ok you win you git. I’ll wear them. But we’re going clothes shopping as soon as we get there and I’m going to buy some decent muggle clothes”.

“Whatever Malfoy. Can we just go now? You vain sod”

“Piss off Potter”

Harry grinned. He whipped out his wand and cast a shrinking charm on the jeans Draco had borrowed from him. They clung more tightly to his trim figure. Much better, Harry thought, his eyes staring appraisingly, before herding Draco out of the door before he could find something else to complain about.

*****

Harry and Draco apparated under Harry’s invisibility cloak (in case any death eaters were watching the house) to Holloway Road tube station, which was right near Grimmauld Place, before removing the cloak and heading into the station. Draco had moaned about having to use “muggle transport” and asked why they couldn’t just apparate to where they were going. Harry had informed him, rather sarcastically, that they were having a proper “muggle day” (much to Draco’s chagrin) and that when Londoners went into central London they used the tube, not apparition, floo or broomsticks. Draco stood in the, what he considered to be, filthy Underground station feeling rather scared about travelling in a muggle vehicle that went under the ground, whilst Harry bought the tickets from the clerk. Litter was scattered over the floor from an overflowing rubbish bin just outside the station. A sticky white substance Harry had told him was muggle confectionary that was chewed then discarded had attached itself to the sole of Draco’s shoe when he accidentally trod in it; a discreet tergeo had removed it but he was still revolted. He noticed a man in an official-looking suit staring at him. Draco stared back, slightly looking down his nose at the man. Then Harry returned with their tickets, and he subtly showed Draco how to insert the ticket into the machine to make the gate open.

The next thing Draco was made wary of was the moving metal staircase. The moving staircases in Hogwarts were one thing, but this was muggle-made and therefore obviously potentially lethal. He gingerly stepped onto one of the steps and held on to the bannister in a death-grip, staring at the advertisements for various musicals in the West End which followed the metal stairs’ descent.

“What’s he doing?” He asked Harry, indicating a man playing a violin as they stepped off the escalator.

“He’s busking” Harry replied, then, in response to Draco’s blank expression, added, “he’s playing for money. He plays, and people throw coins into his violin case”. Draco thought the music-playing muggle should go and get a real job but didn’t say this to Harry. Instead he grabbed Harry’s forearm tightly in fear as a loud roaring noise filled his ears and a gust of wind blew past him. Frightened grey eyes met the amused green of Harry’s. Harry laughed at him.

“It’s just the train coming into one of the platforms, get a grip you bloody pillock. People are staring”.

They stepped onto the platform labelled “southbound” where a sign with lights told him the next train was in two minutes. He read a poster for a product called Coca Cola, which was something that was apparently supposed to be drunk, and another for a musical band, which was now ‘out on CD’, whatever ‘ CD’ meant. Then Draco jumped once more when a bodiless voice, that sounded as if it had been spoken through a sonorous charm, informed him to ‘Mind the Gap’ repeatedly. He looked around wildly for the speaker but couldn’t see one.

A distant rumble could be heard, and the wind picked up. The rumble got louder and louder then suddenly a train that looked nothing like the Hogwarts express shot out of the tunnel and filled the entire platform. Draco felt Harry grab his wrist and they moved to the doors.

Draco glared at three muggles who had dared to brush against him as he stepped onto the train and furiously scrubbed at his clothes with his hands where they touched as if to remove some kind of invisible slime they had left behind on him. There were no seats free so he was forced to stand, pushed close against Harry as more people were shovelled onto the train like cattle. Harry had an odd expression on his face at this, but he didn’t seem displeased.

As the train continued to hurtle them through London Draco thought it was noisy, smelly and being in such close contact with strangers was severely unhealthy. Uncivilised disgusting beasts he thought inwardly, scowling at a teenage girl who had been smiling at him and trying to catch his eye.

After a quick tube change and another scary ride up on the metal moving stairs Harry and Draco arrived in Oxford Street, where, Harry had told him, Draco would be able to buy himself some decent muggle clothing. Draco thought he had earned a few minutes’ peace to compose himself after his harrowing Underground experience, but the thousands of muggles pouring out of the station and herding him towards the exit had other ideas. I really, really fucking hate muggle transport he thought, and considered sulking for an hour. At least it would make him feel better.

*****

Harry thought Draco had coped quite well so far. Well, he could have been worse. He’d not had any outbursts about ‘muggles behaving like feral animals’ yet anyway. Harry was leading them towards Selfridges and was highly amused by Draco’s behaviour. Buses, black cabs, the large amount of muggles- Draco’s face evidently showed he found distaste in them all.

When they entered Selfridges Harry suddenly realised something. He turned to Draco.

“How are you going to pay for all your clothes?” he asked. “I have about Fifty pounds in muggle currency on me but that’s not going to get us a lot, especially as I know you’ll probably want the clothes that cost a bloody fortune”.

“I have a special card that’s linked to Gringotts” Draco told Harry quietly, to make sure no passing shoppers could overhear. “The goblins issue them to wizards and witches for shopping and stuff in the muggle world, especially as so many of us don’t understand the muggle currency. My parents got me one linked to the Malfoy vault just in case of an emergency and I found myself in the muggle world. They’re created to work on muggle card readers like their credit cards and look just like theirs, even made out of that vile plastic they use. We simply hand over the card to pay, the goblins calculate the galleon- pound exchange rate and the money is debited from our vaults. The goblins then pay the people we owe the money to in muggle currency. It’s actually quite simple really”.

Harry had to agree with this idea, and was impressed. It was one of the more logical solutions he’d seen wizards come up with for mingling in muggle society.

Draco cheered up immensely once he was looking at clothes. He’d selected a few items, and had even insisted on buying some new jeans and tops for Harry, which Harry had happily let Draco pick out. Then Draco picked up a pair of leather trousers.

“What is the leather made from?” Draco asked him, hold the trousers against himself and looking in the mirror.

“Cow hide, normally” Harry replied.

“Dragon hide is so much better” Draco snorted. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Yes, but muggles don’t exactly have access to an abundance of Dragon skin, do they? Are you getting them or not?”

“Don’t know. I’ll need to try them on. You can tell me what you think”. And he pulled Harry towards the changing rooms.

Several minutes later Draco emerged, clad in skin-tight black leather trousers and a white tight-fitting t shirt. His grey eyes were alive and sparkling and his silvery blond hair was slightly rustled from where he’d pulled the t shirt over his head giving him a ‘just shagged’ look. Harry’s eyes widened and he felt the blood rush to his cheeks. He was just thankful it wasn’t rushing anywhere else- because he decided that the sight in front of him was beautiful and bordering on obscene. Harry tried to banish the thought from his mind. It didn’t work.

“What do you think then?” Draco asked, although Harry knew Draco knew he looked good. No, not good. Fucking awesome. Draco had just come out in the clothes to show off. He nodded his head and tried to control the images his brain was conjuring at that moment. This is Malfoy a small voice somewhere in his mind said. What the bloody hell are you doing eyeing him of all people up? Harry snapped out of his thoughts and swallowed hard.

“They… er… um, look really good” he stammered, willing himself not to blush. Draco smirked.

“I’ll get these as well then. They make my arse look good.” He looked Harry in the eye when he said this and Harry realised he was gaping like a guppy out of water.

As Draco went to get changed, Harry couldn’t help but think Hogwarts robes were very good at hiding the human body, and, if they weren’t, maybe he’d have worked out he was gay a lot sooner than he actually had. He’d thought he’d been in love with Ginny, but something had never felt quite right. He did end things with her for her own protection, that was partly the truth- but as soon as they had got together Harry just felt that something wasn’t clicking between them. And the time they’d attempted to have sex… well, Harry tried not to focus on that particular disaster for any length of time. It had been one night, about a week before Dumbledore had died, when it clicked. He was dreaming, and in the dream he was with another man in a very sexual way, and… well, Harry woke in a state that Ginny had certainly never managed to get him in and it was many minutes before he could move with any dignity.

But just don’t fall for fucking Malfoy the voice insisted. Harry thought it was advice worth listening to.

*****

“That’s a total of four hundred and thirty-three pounds then please sir” said the cashier. Harry did a quick calculation and mouthed, “about ninety galleons” to Draco when the cashier wasn’t looking, who nodded to show his thanks. Draco handed over the Gringott’s card, and the cashier took it. Suddenly he snorted.

“Is there a problem?” Draco asked cordially, but the cashier shook his head.

“My apologies sir. I just saw your name on your card. It’s very unusual. I’ve never come across the name ‘Draco’ before. It means Dragon doesn’t it? Your parents must have been hippies or something. And I remember French from school- Malfoy means bad faith doesn’t it”.

Harry groaned aloud. Whilst he was confident that Draco had no idea what a ‘hippy’ was so couldn’t be upset by that particular reference he knew Draco was sensitive about his forename and fiercely proud of his surname. He looked into Draco’s face and cringed when he found a Malfoy mask- the haughtiest and most arrogant one- plastered into place.

“I’ll have you know” Draco began in an icy tone, “That I come from a wealthy, aristocratic line of noble pure stock. The name Malfoy- as does my family’s home and estate- stretches back generations. My mother’s side of the family frequently name their children after celestial bodies. I’m named after the constellation Draco. Better than one of your common names. What is your name anyway?” Both Draco’s and Harry’s eyes travelled to a name badge displaying the name ‘Wayne King, happy to serve you’. Harry coughed back his own laughter whilst Draco snorted in contempt.

“Do you really think you have the right to cast judgements upon anyone else’s name, when you yourself have the most ridiculous name I’ve ever come across? Is your name a self-fulfilling prophecy, you bloody great tosser? My parents named me after stars; yours, however, chose masturbation. Then again, I don’t know why I’d expect some sense of intelligence given they’re just a pair of great idiotic mug-”

“DRACO” yelled Harry, and not a second too soon. “Just pay and we can go and grab lunch, ok?”

Thankfully Draco ended his little ‘chat’ then, and simply waited for the red-faced, close-to-tears cashier to close the sale. Then he took his purchases without saying thank you, and swept out of the shop. Harry turned to offer a small apologetic smile to Wayne King before following him out.

“Well, that was amusing” Harry said sarcastically once they were back on Oxford Street. “Let’s go and get lunch before you manage to get the magical law enforcement onto us for actually breaking the statute of secrecy. Prick”. He dragged Draco across the busy street and into the first place he came across, which happened to be a McDonalds.

“Sit there. I’ll get you something to eat” Harry commanded. For once Draco did as he was told. Harry went up to the counter and returned a few minutes later with burgers, fries and cokes for them both.

“Coca Cola!” Draco cried excitedly when Harry relayed the food items to him. “I saw a poster about this on the tube!” he clearly didn’t notice the ten or so people now staring openly at him. Draco lowered his mouth to the straw and sucked in a mouthful. His eyes widened in surprise and he choked on it.

“Harry” he spluttered “why is my drink effervescing like a bloody potion?”

“It’s carbonated. It has a gas called carbon dioxide in it. It’s supposed to do that” Harry replied patiently. “Muggles call it a ‘fizzy drink’. Now eat your burger”.

“Where’s the cutlery?”

“Pick it up with your hands”.

Harry was sure he caught the words “uncivilised,” “supposed to be a restaurant” and “no better than animals” spewing from Draco but ignored him. He picked up his burger and began to eat.

Draco removed his own burger from its cardboard packaging, and examined it as a jeweller might examine a Fabergé egg when trying to spot forgeries. He took an experimental bite, and Harry was relieved to see that this, apparently, passed the Malfoy test without further comment. In fact Draco ate the entire thing, before taking another slurp of his “weird muggle drink thing”.

Of course, the fries were next to face appraisal. By this point Harry wondered if the people staring might think Draco may be on drugs- Draco had picked up a long chip, held it between the thumb and forefinger of both hands, and held it to the light, twirling it between his fingers, before asking what they were made of. Harry ignored him, concentrating on his own food. Giving up, Draco ate the chip, but these failed the exam.

“Eugh. Salty, greasy vile things” he said, pushing them away.

Ten minutes later Harry and Draco emerged once more onto Oxford Street and Harry had to laugh. He wondered what Slytherin House would say if they knew Harry Potter had just taken Draco Malfoy out to eat in a muggle burger chain. He couldn’t wait to tell Snape when they got home.

*****

“So, muggles get pierced? And wear jewellery through their body parts?”

“Yup. C’mon, let’s go”.

“No. I want something pierced. Ooh, look, tongue! I’m getting that!”

Harry sighed. He wondered if it was the sugar from the coke, or the colourings in it which weren’t present in any wizarding products affecting his behaviour, or indeed Draco was actually enjoying his muggle day now, but he was bitterly regretting taking a rather hyped-up Draco through Soho on the way to Leicester Square now. They’d already passed a few sex shops with suggestive and erotic merchandise in the windows (which hadn’t helped with Harry’s Inappropriate Draco Thoughts one single iota) which Draco had stopped and gaped at, and now Draco wanted a tongue piercing. He very reluctantly followed Draco into the piercing studio.

“So, muggles can have all these different things pierced” Draco said as he read the price list. “Eyebrows, lips, nose, tongue, nipples, and, oh… Harry, what’s a Prince Albert?”

Harry’s cheeks burned and he put his head in his hands. “It’s a piercing a man gets on his… you know” he said, and looked up at Draco, gesturing with his hands where exactly the piercing was. Draco’s eyebrows are almost in his hair.

“On their… but why? Why would anyone get their dick pierced?”

Harry was spared answering as Draco was then called through to the piercing room. He emerged fifteen minutes later looking close to tears, a small trickle of blood on his lower lip. Stands up to Voldemort’s torture with the bravery of a Gryffindor but can’t cope with a small piercing Harry mused to himself with a snort of amusement. Draco paid and they left.

“Does it hurt?” Harry asked. Draco just nodded sadly. Harry bit back the chuckle once more. “Do you want me to fix it?” More enthusiastic nodding. “Right. Come down here then”. Harry guided Draco down an alley behind the shops, quickly checked for any muggles, and pulled out his wand. “Open your mouth”. He pointed his wand at Draco’s swollen and bleeding tongue and quietly muttered, “Episkey”. Straight away Draco’s tongue was healed and back to its normal size. Harry tried to ignore the fact that the piercing looked incredibly… sexy. Before he could stop himself he reached to Draco’s lower lip and wiped the blood away with his thumb. Draco closed his eyes at the contact.

“How does that feel now?” Harry asked him softly.

“Thanks” Draco murmured, “completely better. C’mon, we’d better get going.” Then the pair of them left the alley. “Where are we going now anyway?”

“You’re going to learn to bowl” said Harry.

“To what?” Draco asked in genuine confusion.

“You’ll see”.

*****

The first thing Draco noticed about the bowling alley was the intense bright lights. The second was the overbearingly loud music blaring out from wherever muggle music blared from. And within a few seconds of observing he had worked out what bowling was, not that he could see the point in it from what he could see. ‘Pick up a ball and throw it at some white stick things in order to knock as many over as you can’ didn’t sound that fun. But, he reminded himself, it was still better than sitting alone and bored shitless in Grimmauld Place.

“What’s the name of this place again?” Draco asked Harry.

“Trocadero” Harry replied. “And after we’re done bowling we’ll go up the escalator and watch a film”. Draco paled. Not another stupid muggle metal moving stairs thing. Draco hated those.

“I’ve got us a lane, just the one game” Harry said. “Take your shoes off”. Draco looked scandalised.

“Why, in the name of Merlin, do I need to take my shoes off?” He asked. Harry indicated all the other bowlers.

“Look at their shoes Draco” he said. Draco paled and his eyes widened in realisation.

“No. Potter, NO. I’m not wearing a pair of shoes that other people- sweaty, disgusting muggles!- have worn thousands of times before!” Harry folded his arms and calmly stood his ground. Eventually Draco gave an impatient sigh and removed his shoes. He handed them over to the troglodyte behind the counter with a small whimper.

“What size shoes?” The Troglodyte asked. Draco didn’t know. Wizards’ clothing didn’t work the same way as muggles- it was all made large them custom-shrunk to fit. Including shoes. Draco was slightly panicking when Harry saved the day.

“He’s from Europe, their shoe sizes are different to ours so he’s a bit confused. He looks like he’s about a size bigger than me. So a pair of 8s and a pair of 9s please”. If the Troglodyte was suspicious he didn’t show it. He slammed the shoes in front of Draco, which he found rather rude, then Draco picked them off the counter and walked over to a seat to put them on. Draco had to admit Harry had done a good job, the shoes fitted fine. He just found the idea of putting his feet into a pair of shoes someone else had worn utterly repulsive.

Harry entered their names into the computer thingy, and Draco saw Harry was bowling first. Harry picked up the 10lb ball and bowled it beautifully down the centre of the lane, taking eight pins (Harry had given him the correct name for them) with it. With his second ball he knocked the remaining two down.

“How did you get so good at this?” Draco demanded. Harry smiled.

“I guess I’m good at sports that involve balls” he replied. Draco smirked at him and Harry blushed at the stupid unintended double entendre his innocent words had carried. Draco stood up and picked up the same ball Harry had used. He took aim, and bowled. Instantly it rolled into the gutter. Harry laughed. Draco scowled, but drew his wand out of his pocket and slid it up the arm of the long sleeved top he was wearing. He picked the bowling ball up one more time. This time he discreetly aimed his wand at the ball and muttered, “locomotor bowling ball”. He swung his arm back and let go of the ball, delighted that he was about to get a spare, or whatever it was Harry had called it, when he heard Harry whisper “finite incantatem” and once more Draco’s ball ended up in the gutter, much to Harry’s laughter.

“Try not to cheat next go Draco” he said between giggles. “It’s very Slytherin of you and all that, but it’s far more rewarding to actually play the game.”

“How did you know I was doing that?” Draco asked, surprised and grudgingly impressed.

“I didn’t” Harry replied. “I have, however, spent six years beating you in every game we’ve played so figured you would try something like this to try and get the win. I cast the finite on the off chance, and I was right”.

The game progressed and, to Draco’s surprise, when he actually tried rather than just use magic he wasn’t too bad. Of course Harry still won, and by quite a margin, but at least Draco managed to hit some pins. He even managed to congratulate Harry, much to Harry’s surprise.

They had a while before the film started so Harry decided to show Draco the arcades. They each had a few turns on various games before Draco spotted a toy grabber.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“You put coins in the slot and then use these levers to try and grab a toy” Harry replied. Draco thought that sounded ridiculously easy. He took some of the coins Harry had given him to play with in the arcade and studied them carefully until he found the one marked ‘20p’ and inserted it in the slot. Then he manoeuvred the levers, positioning them perfectly over a soft bear. The grabber dropped, and picked up a toy. Draco was about the revel in his victory when the grabber suddenly opened its grip and dropped the toy back into the pile of cuddly teddies. Draco frowned.

“That’s broken” he said. “It picked it up then released it again”.

“That’s part of the game” Harry explained. “Those things always do that. They’re really hard to win on”.

“And muggles know this, yet they still put money in them?” Draco asked, and Harry nodded. Draco couldn’t contemplate that. Who would voluntarily waste their money? The Malfoy fortune came from careful investments and respecting money, not as good as throwing it away. It was things like this that made wizards better than muggles. Muggles really were stupid.

“Well, I want a teddy. I paid my money, I deserve the prize”.

He took out his wand and tapped the toy grabber, uttering “reparo”. Harry rolled his eyes but looked on in amusement, as Draco inserted another coin, and once more picked up the teddy. This time the grabber did not let go until it was hovered over the chute, and Draco yelled triumphantly as he picked up a garish blue teddy bear wearing a frilly tutu and holding a sign that said something that wasn’t even in English. Still, he had won it, earned it, and therefore it was his. Maybe he’d give it to Harry later.

“I need the loo” he announced to Harry. He returned a couple of minutes later holding a small box.

“What have you got there?” Harry asked. Draco handed Harry the box and once more Harry turned scarlet.

“Why, in the same of all that is Holy, have you bought these?” Harry asked him, handing the box back.

“What do you mean? There was another game in the toilets. I had to put in some coins, pull a lever and I won these” Draco replied. Harry was toyed between huge embarrassment, amusement and complete and utter exasperation at Draco’s ignorance of anything muggle.

“Draco, you’ve won nothing. That wasn’t a game. It was a condom machine”.

“And what are condoms?”

“They’re… oh for fuck’s sake Draco do you know nothing about muggles at all? A condom is something a man wears on his… you know… to stop a woman getting pregnant or diseases getting spread around when he has sex. And you’re walking around waving the box in the air like some kind of moron”.

Draco instantly flushed and shoved the box inside his robes.

“Let’s just go and watch your film” he said quietly.

*****

Draco stepped off the escalator with relief and followed Harry into the cinema.

“What’s the name of the film we’re watching?” he asked.

“Titanic” Harry replied.

“And what’s it about?”

“It’s about The Titanic” Harry said dryly.

“And is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“Yes it’s… oh bloody hell. Right. This is a film, and a lot of it is fictional, but it’s based on a real historical event. The Titanic was a ship that was sailing from England to America in 1912 but it hit an iceberg in the Atlantic and sunk and about fifteen hundred people died”.

Draco bought the tickets thanks to his Gringott’s card and then he and Harry bought drinks and snacks. Draco stared at the popcorn wondering if he should eat it or use it for packing material, whilst gazing suspiciously at the hot dog Harry handed him. He was pleased to see Harry had bought more coke. He could get used to that. They walked into the cinema and found good seats, and the pair of them settled down to watch the film.

*****

“Are you okay, Draco?”

“Mmmmmmhhhhhhhhhhmmmmm”. Sniff.

“Are you sure?”

“C-can w-we g-go home now?”

“Of course. I think I’ve inflicted enough muggle stuff on you for one day. Come on, let’s apparate”. Draco gave a watery smile at this, and Harry checked for muggles before throwing his cloak over them. Then he gripped Draco tightly and turned on the spot.

“Harry, can we talk?” Draco said as soon as the front door to Grimmuald Place was shut. Harry nodded, pausing only to inform Snape of their return. He led Draco up to his room.

“Are you okay?” he asked, genuinely concerned. Draco nodded.

“Yeah, I am, it’s just, I, I mean- all those people Harry. All dead. We could have cast levitation charms to keep us out of the water, or warming charms, or just not have had to have travelled on the bloody ship in the first place, but the muggles couldn’t save themselves could they. They must have been terrified”. Harry smiled kindly at Draco.

“It was only a film Draco” he said.

“But it wasn’t, was it? You told me it really happened, that people really died in that. I watched it, and I didn’t see muggles. I saw people. It reminded me of the ones V…Voldemort killed the night you rescued me. Harry, I may not ever understand muggles. I may not even like them very much. But, fuck, they don’t deserve to be treated badly. They’re not stupid, are they? They just can’t do what we do because they don’t have magic”.

Harry couldn’t believe his ears. Draco Malfoy, showing compassion and care for muggles? And speaking Voldemort’s name? He reached out and touched Draco on the shoulder.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. And other purebloods. For years really. Muggles are not stupid. In fact, many are incredibly intelligent. They’ve achieved so much without magic, things they have to work incredibly hard to create, rather than just point a wand and say some words in Latin. They build a craft called a space shuttle that actually took people to the moon. Wizards have never managed to leave the planet. Look at computers, muggle medicine! All created through intelligence”.

He paused, wondering if this would rock the friendship he and Draco had secured today, before deciding it needed to be said.

“Draco, it’s the purebloods who are uneducated and ignorant. Not the muggles, not the muggleborns. Honestly, at Hogwarts you’re one of the best students. You’re clever, and articulate, and incredibly academic. But today you have acted like a complete and utter idiot at times, over incredibly normal, everyday things. You may understand wizarding customs and laws perfectly, but you’re exceptionally ignorant about a huge portion of the world. Not even knowing about things like the Titanic, for example! You need to educate yourself.”

“We can’t let Voldemort win” Draco said quietly. “He’s going to kill as many of them as he can”.

“Draco” Harry continued, very softly, “in the 1930s and 40s there was this fucked-up megalomaniac called Hitler who decided that only one particular type of person deserved to be treated like a human being. He did- unspeakable- things to millions of people. If you weren’t the right race, creed, religion, sexuality, then he executed you. The whole world went to war to try and stop him, and millions and millions of people were killed. But we stopped him. He didn’t win. Tyrants cannot be allowed to win. Voldemort is nothing but another Hitler, but in the wizarding world instead of the muggle. I’m going to stop him, Draco. I’m not going to let him destroy the muggles, and the muggleborns, and even some of the halfbloods. He is going to be defeated. I am going to win”.

Draco stared at him, wide-eyed. The, to Harry’s surprise, he threw his arms around him.

“Thank you” he whispered into Harry’s neck. “For saving me, for having outstanding courage that I can’t even begin to understand. For risking it all to bring him down. Hell, even thank you for today”. He smiled.

“I’m going to bed. Today was… a real experience”. He whipped out the garish teddy and offered it to Harry. Harry chuckled.

“Thanks. I’ll treasure it always. Goodnight Draco”

*****

Harry’s thoughts were loud and obnoxious that night. He was trying to sleep, but they wouldn’t let him. They kept showing him images of Draco in leather trousers, Draco poking his pierced tongue out at him. They showed him Draco defending muggles, speaking Voldemort’s name aloud. His hand reached out and stroked the teddy.

“Oh fuck” he said into the dark. I did warn you the voice in his head offered unhelpfully, as Harry finally managed to fall asleep
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Harry Potter and the Black King