Draco took a deep breath as he stepped outside of the aquarium. Potter had made a hurried excuse and left halfway through the last exhibit. Draco had felt relieved, for the most part. It gave him some distance from the look Potter had given him in front of the jellyfish. He ignored the faint sense of disappointment in the back of his mind.

It had been a while since Draco had visited central London. He wasn't a fan of crowds in general, and crowds full of obnoxious tourists were the worst combination of two exceptionally shitty things. He followed the pathway along the river next to the aquarium, glancing between the river and the massive Eye of London, the small carriages seeming so precarious and small. Draco wasn't afraid of heights, he had flown much higher than that, but he felt like he might find those little capsules unnerving.

A raven flew down, landed on the river wall and croaked at him. Draco hesitated and then saw that the bird had something tied to one leg. As he approached, the bird leaned down, untied the string from its own leg and took off before he reached it.

Draco picked up the little bundle, a piece of lined yellow notepaper wrapped around a plastic baggy. Inside the bag was the little metal pull tab from the top of a can of fizzy drink.

Draco didn't recognize the handwriting.

Do you want to hang out?

It was signed, Jasmine.

Added onto the bottom Jasmine had written, I sent a portkey in the bag, so don't throw it out. There was a gap and then added to that, like an additional afterthought, it comes to my Mum's house, nowhere sketch.

Draco's brow furrowed in confusion. He looked at the plastic bag, turning it over in his hand. He didn't know why Jasmine would want to see him, but he was intrigued enough to find out.

Draco stopped by Samuel's flat first, leaving a snarky note on his door to let him know Draco had survived the aquarium. Then he went back to the wheely bins and opened the plastic bag, grabbing the tiny piece of metal inside.

The pull of magic was surprisingly smooth, a gliding twist through space that dropped him lightly in the scrubby back garden of a small two-story house. It was painted a pale yellow that was in need of a refresh, built tight to its neighbouring houses.

"what the fuck?" Draco said under his breath, wondering where he even was.

The door opened, and there was Jasmine, wearing loose black joggers and a bright yellow tank top.

"You showed," Jasmine said, sounding surprised.

"You did ask me to come," Draco said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually show," Jasmine said, "We didn't exactly get off on the right foot."

"Then why-?" Draco asked.

Jasmine rolled her eyes, "Who else was I going to ask? The doc is obnoxious-"

Draco frowned faintly.

"-yeah, fine, you can like her if you want. And the other two are-" Jasmine's brown furrowed, "...They weren't there; they don't get it."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I thought I was, what did you call me, one of the hitler youth?"

"That was-," Jasmine sighed, crossing her arms over her chest, "-look, I didn't understand all the facts, did I? From what I saw at school, you seemed all in on the pure-blood shite."

"Yes, well, I reserved my crying for the second-floor girl's bathroom," Draco said flatly.

Jasmine snorted in amusement.

"Not a joke," Draco said, "Unfortunately."

Jasmine raised her eyebrows.

"So?" Draco said, looking around the small back garden, "What did you want help with?"

"Who said I wanted help?" Jasmine asked. "Maybe I just wanted to chat."

"Alright then," Draco said, sarcasm lacing his tone, "What did you want to chat about then? And do we have to chat in your garden, or can we go somewhere?"

Jasmine stared at him for a second too long, then opened the door and stepped inside, "Come in, then. My mum isn't here, so it should be fine."

Draco had to roll his eyes, "Brilliant. Love being someone's dirty secret."

"Shut up, it's not that," Jasmine said.

"Sure," Draco said, stepping inside and looking around.

"She's the type to think every bloke I bring over is someone I'm shagging no matter what I say," Jasmine said. "It drives me mad."

"I can always turn up the-" Draco flipped his wrist with an exaggerated air.

"She'd probably miss that as well. Mum is not the perceptive sort," Jasmine said. "Come on, my room's upstairs."

Jasmine led the way up a narrow staircase to a door, the wood painted a pale pink at some point and now scratched and chipped with faded and half peeled stickers dotting the surface.

Jasmine sat on the edge of a twin bed pressed into the corner of the small room, the ceiling sloping so she'd hit her head if she leaned back.

There was a feeling about the room that it hadn't changed since Jasmine was in school. A purple chair was set in front of a matching desk stacked with old school books and piles of parchment marked up by their old professors. There were a few band posters stuck up on the pink walls. Some old stuffed animals were set on the back of the dresser that had a few small piles of books, ranging from middle chapter books to teen romance.

The touches of Jasmine that seemed current were laid atop her younger self. Clothes were scattered across the floor and draped and piled on the chair. Some makeup was squeezed onto a crowded bedside table next to an iridescent unicorn lamp. The bed was the only part that really looked lived in, the sheets wrinkled and twisted, heavy grey and white quilt on top rumpled like it had just been pushed back by someone just waking up.

Jasmine grabbed the pile of clothes on the chair and dumped it onto the end of the bed.

"That portkey was impressive," Draco said, sitting delicately on the edge of the proffered chair, "Those are tricky to make."

"I got a bit obsessed with them during fifth and sixth year, not that I ever got them to slip through the Hogwarts wards," Jasmine said, "They work everywhere else I've tried them, though."

"Hogwarts has the strongest wards in the UK," Draco said, "No one's ever breached them."

Jasmine gave him a pointed look.

"I didn't make the vanishing cabinets," Draco said stiffly, "I don't want credit for any- any of that."

"It's sort of impressive. On its own, without all the-" Jasmine waved her hand, "other stuff."

"Oh, well, that's alright then," Draco said sarcastically.

Jasmine snickered.

"So..." Draco said.

"Soooo?" Jasmine said.

Draco sighed, "Why am I here?"

"To hang out," Jasmine said.

Draco stared at her flatly.

"Never had anyone over to my parent's house, have I?" Jasmine said.

"Is this meant to be your homework assignment?" Draco said incredulously.

"Technically-"

"Technically?!" Draco laughed. "Technically, this is shit!"

"Shit? Is not!" Jasmine said, leaning forward.

"You're supposed to do something you've always wanted to do. I can't imagine you wanting to have me over to your house," Draco said.

"Oh, shut it," Jasmine said. She swept her locks behind her shoulder. "What did you do then? If it's so much better."

"I went to the aquarium," Draco said.

Jasmine snorted.

"I've never been to an aquarium. Or a zoo, for that matter," Draco said, feeling a bit smug, "And I've been curious about them."

Jasmine wrinkled her nose, "What? Really? Is that some sort of pure-blood shite?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "I don't know about all pure-bloods, but my family certainly had plenty of stupid ideas about the muggle world."

"Well, unfortunately, I've already been to the aquarium and zoo and all that. My stepdad was big on weekend trips when we were little," Jasmine said.

"And you don't have any other ideas about things you've always wanted to do?" Draco asked.

Jasmine shrugged one shoulder, crossing her arms a bit defensively, "No. I want to sleep. And I can't fucking do that, can I?"

"What are your other hobbies?" Draco asked.

Jasmine shrugged again.

"Reading?" Draco asked, pointing to the pile on the dresser.

"Nah. Most of those were gifts," Jasmine said.

"Makeup?" Draco tried, looking around the room for other clues.

"I mostly use some light glamours. I only use the makeup when we all go out so my stepdad won't nag at me."

"Why...?" Draco asked in confusion.

"He's muggle. He doesn't like us to use magic out in 'the real world'," Jasmine finger quoted aggressively, rolling her eyes just in case Draco hadn't fully caught her meaning.

"That seems a bit much," Draco said.

"He's intense about stuff like that," Jasmine said. "When Mum told him she was a witch, before they got married, he read all about the statute of secrecy, and he takes it very seriously. Like crazy serious. It drives us all a bit nuts. But Mum says he means well."

Draco wasn't sure he understood Jasmine's animosity towards her step-father. He seemed nice enough to Draco, but perhaps there was something he didn't understand.

"Right," Draco said, frowning in thought. "What about in Hogwarts? Was there something you liked to do?"

"Mess about, chat with my friends," Jasmine said, "Studying was a bitch. That took up most of my time."

Draco narrowed his eyes, "You are not helping."

Jasmine threw up her hands, "You think I didn't think about all this? Cause I already thought about it."

"Did you do anything fun before you were eleven?" Draco asked.

Jasmine snickered at him.

Draco glared at him again.

"This isn't your problem, mate!" Jasmine laughed. "It's nice of you to help, I guess, but you did enough just coming over. You don't owe me anything."

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I? I might as well do something," Draco said, annoyed.

"Are you always this prickly?" Jasmine asked.

Draco sniffed with faux snobbishness, "My time is valuable, you know."

"Sure it is," Jasmine said.

Draco wasn't sure she had picked up on his joking tone and was about to point it out when the door shut loudly downstairs, followed by a woman's voice calling loudly, "Jasmine! Come help me with the groceries!"

Jasmine sighed and slowly stood up.

"Jasmine!"

"Coming!" Jasmine shouted back impatiently.

Draco winced.

"Come on, then. I've got to put away the groceries. I'll see you out," Jasmine said.

Draco followed her down the stairs and through a narrow hall into a cosy kitchen smelling of unfamiliar spices. A black woman, her skin so dark it could have canvassed the stars in the night sky, was setting bags heavy with groceries onto the counter.

"Jasmine!" Jasmine's Mum said, "You didn't tell me you had someone over!" Her voice had an accent Draco couldn't place.

"Hello," Draco said, "I'm from Jasmine's therapy group; we were working on her assignment."

Jasmine's Mum gasped, "You didn't tell me you had work to do!"

Jasmine shot a glare at Draco, then said flippantly, "I forgot."

"You have a beautiful accent," Draco said, "May I ask-"

"My family is from Tanzania; we came here when I was a girl," She said with a smile, "I'm Zahra."

"Draco. A pleasure to meet you," Draco shook her proffered hand. "Then did you happen to learn wandless magic?" he asked.

Zahra laughed, "You English wizards always ask me about that, you know!"

"That's because it's wonderful," Draco said, "They really ought to teach it here."

"I can do a bit, here and there," Zahra said. She pursed her lips and then waved her arm in long sweeping movements much like a wand. The items in the grocery bags began to move one by one, putting themselves away in the cupboards and fridge. "It's much harder to do. I like using a wand better."

Jasmine whispered, "nice."

Draco gave her a look that he hoped conveyed, I didn't do it for you.

"What are you doing for your group? Can I help with anything?" Zahra asked.

"No-" Jasmine started.

"Jasmine called me over to help her find a hobby or experience, something-"

"Draco," Jasmine hissed, roughly bumping his shoulder.

"-Something new that she might like to do," Draco went on, louder and more stubbornly than before.

"That sounds wonderful," Zahra said, folding up her shopping bags, "You could use more hobbies."

"Thanks, Mum," Jasmine said flatly.

"We were having trouble thinking of something she might try, that Jasmine would like," Draco said.

Jasmine sighed dramatically.

"Why don't you do something in the garden?" Zahra said. "You remember when we grew those tomato plants, you liked that, didn't you?"

"I was five," Jasmine said.

"I remember you liking it," Zahra said.

"And they died," Jasmine said.

"Not all of them. There was one plant who made three little tomatoes, and you were so happy when you picked them. You didn't even like tomatoes, but you insisted on eating them anyway," Zahra said.

"...they were sweeter than the ones you buy in the shops. So I didn't mind them," Jasmine said.

"And you like tomatoes now! So it's perfect!" Zahra said, "No one is using the back garden for anything, so you can grow whatever you like."

Zahra patted her pockets and pulled out a vivid blue leather wallet, "Here, here," She took out a few paper notes and pushed them into Jasmine's hands, "To get you started."

"Thanks, Mum," Jasmine said without an ounce of enthusiasm. She walked back down the hallway and out the front door without another word.

When Draco shut the door behind them, Jasmine groaned loudly, "I hope you're happy."

"Is it such a bad idea?" Draco asked.

"I don't like digging around in the dirt. I hated Herbology," Jasmine said.

"We can use magic for the planting, and I'm fairly certain tomato plants don't try to kill you, so there is that," Draco said.

Jasmine snorted, "Yeah. There is that."

"So?" Draco asked.

"So?" Jasmine mimicked irritably. Then she sighed and relaxed by inches, "Alright, I guess. I know a shop that might have some plants we could buy."

"We?" Draco said.

"You got me into this," Jasmine said, "And you said you wanted to help."

"I didn't particularly like Herbology either," Draco said.

"Tough shit," Jasmine said. "Come on, let's go."

"Alright, alright," Draco said, following her down the lane.

Draco sighed as he apparated back into Potter's flat. He was tired and somehow, despite their best charms, still sweaty and dirty.

He had hated Herbology, hated being dirty and cold and then working up a sweat in the heavy winter robes they wore out to the greenhouses. The memory felt bittersweet now, and he wished he could have enjoyed that time more. If he had just been able to let down his guard, joked around more, fooled around more, laughed more. He had been so worried about how others saw him and how he reflected back on his father.

Draco squeezed his eyes shut at the ache in his chest. He took a deep breath and tried to shake the feeling off.

At least it hadn't been all bad. Zahra had insisted Draco stay for dinner after they finished planting in the garden. The food was amazing, and Draco met Jasmine's stepfather, a quiet, unassuming man with square glasses who wore sweaters with patches on the elbows.

Draco headed to the bath, navigating Potter's flat in the dark, feeling for the doorframe and then turning on the light as he stepped inside.

He kicked off his shoes and pulled his t-shirt over his head. He dropped his clothing into a pile on the floor and walked across cool tiles to the shower. Draco took his time washing his hair and scrubbing his skin clean, feeling lighter as the last of the soapy bubbles washed down the drain.

Draco could have probably stayed under the warm water for another hour, but a noise prompted him to turn off the water. He started to reach for his wand, sitting next to the shampoo bottles but stopped when he recognized Potter's voice.

"Malfoy?" Potter called. "Malfoy, are you here?" He came closer, his footsteps heavier and more uneven than normal.

"Yes?" Draco said uncertainly.

Potter sounded strange, and it took a second before Draco remembered that Potter had said he was going out drinking.

"Malfoy," Potter said again, and Draco could hear the faint slur in his voice. "You're here?"

"Yes?" Draco said, faintly amused. He slid open the shower stall door.

"You're never here," Potter said, sounding like he was leaning on the other side of the door.

"Well, I am now," Draco said dryly.

The door frame creaked, "I always look for you, but then you're gone."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Are you even listening to me?"

"I'm- I'm listening-!" Potter said hurriedly. There was a click, and then the bathroom door suddenly fell open, Potter falling with it.

Potter tried to catch himself on the doorknob, which only made the door swing open faster, slipped off, twisted around and landed on the floor on his back.

Draco jumped, pressing his back to the shower tiles.

"Mm okaaay!" Potter said faintly.

"Merlin fuck, Potter!" Draco said.

Potter huffed and pushed himself up onto his elbow, and his eyes widened. "You're naked."

"I was in the shower," Draco said. He shivered, but it wasn't because of the cold; it was because of the way Potter was looking at him.

Draco grabbed the towel hanging in the hook beside the shower and tied it around his waist.

Potter groaned, collapsing onto his back. "I don't get it. I just don't get it. I think about you all the time. I can't stop. An' when we were at school, it made sense, right? You were my enemy, and I had- I watched you, and you were a death eater and doing things and-"

Potter sighed faintly, "So I thought, I thought when I saw you again at Soho, I thought I couldn't stop thinking about you must have meant something, meant you were up to something again. But it wasn't- I wasn't right. I was wrong. ...and stupid." He tried to rub his face, forgetting about his glasses and nearly knocking them off his face.

"So why can't I stop thinking about you?"

"Oh..." Draco said, puzzle pieces falling together in his mind. He stepped out of the shower, combing his wet hair back with his fingers. He walked over to Potter, leaning back against the edge of the sink. "Well, that isn't that great of a mystery, is it?"

Potter straightened his glasses back onto his nose and blinked up at Draco in confusion.

"You find me attractive," Draco said.

"What?" Potter said.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "A lot of people find me attractive; it isn't that surprising."

"But, I don't- I like girls," Potter said blankly.

"I hadn't noticed," Draco said sarcastically. He smiled faintly, "You're allowed to like blokes as well. Along with, well, anyone you like, really."

"I- I know that," Potter said defensively, "I just- I've never thought about yo-"

Draco stepped over Potter, holding onto the edge of the sink as he lowered himself down to straddle Potter's hips.

Potter sucked in a breath.

The fabric of Potter's jeans was rough against Draco's thighs. Some of his hair fell loose in front of his face, a drop of water slipping down the white blond strands.

"And you don't have to like someone to be attracted to them." Draco let his hands slide down the front of Potter's t-shirt, the fabric soft, faded to a pale sherbet orange. Attraction was something he understood. Simple wanting. Desire.

"Malfoy," Potter said.

Draco stopped at the bottom hem, running the little fold of fabric between his fingers, his knuckles brushing against the sensitive skin above Potter's belt. He could feel Potter's stomach jump at his touch.

"Malfoy," Potter said again, his voice closer.

And when Draco looked up, Potter was right there.

"No," Draco said, putting his hand up, hovering over Potter's mouth before it could reach him.

"But I thought-" Potter said, his words warm against Draco's fingertips.

"You're drunk," Draco said. "It doesn't mean anything when you're drunk. It isn't real."

Potter stared at him, his eyes almost too green this close. "I want to."

"I-"

"I want to kiss you," Potter leaned forward, brushing his lips against Draco's fingers, making him shiver.

Draco's breath caught his throat, his traitorous body wavering, trying to fall into Potter and bridge the distance between them.

"Malfoy," Potter said.

"Don't. Don't say my name like that," Draco said.

"Like what?"

"Like you- Like-" Draco bit his lip. "One condition. I'll kiss you on one condition."

"Whatever you want," Potter said.

"After tonight, once you've sobered up, you have to kiss me again," Draco said.

Potter nodded, "I will."

Draco's smile was bitter.

"I mean it," Potter insisted.

"I'm sure you do," right now, Draco thought. But he couldn't help himself, not when what he wanted was right in front of him.

Draco let his hand slide off Potter's mouth, tracing the line of his jaw and feeling Potter's rough stubble against his skin. He tilted Potter's head, brushing his thumb across Potter's bottom lip before kissing him. He could taste the lingering flavours of lager and cigarettes on Potter's lips. Draco moved slow, trying to make the moment last in case it was the last.

When he pulled back, he could see Potter's half-lidded eyes, green framed by thick black lashes, his pupils blown wide with desire.

Potter only paused for a breath before trying to lean in for another kiss. Draco grabbed his arm and pulled one of Potter's elbows out from under him, dropping Potter back onto his back with a startled swear.

"Only one," Draco said.

Potter sighed. He pulled something out of the pile of clothes under his head, "What is this anyway?"

"My pants," Draco said flatly.

Potter made a face.

Draco took the boxer-briefs from Potter's hand and stood, pulling them on under the towel. "You ought to be more grateful. Those pants kept you from cracking your head open."

Potter sat up, rubbing the back of his head.

"Get up," Draco said, holding out his hand, "You need to go to bed."

Potter let Draco pull him up, stumbling against his shoulder. Draco put an arm around Potter's back, leading him out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. Draco pulled back the duvet, Potter dropping onto the bed heavily, kicking off his shoes before collapsing onto the pillow.

"You're a mess," Draco said absently.

"Says you," Potter said.

"Says me," Draco laughed, "So you know it's bad."

He went to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. Potter had managed to shrug off his jeans and jumper and cover himself with the duvet when he came back. Draco wondered if Potter had managed to strip down entirely since he preferred to sleep in the nude.

"Drink this," Draco said, setting the glass down on the bedside table.

Potter kept his eyes closed.

"Fine. Don't, then. Enjoy your hangover," Draco said, turning to leave.

"That's what potions are for," Potter said.

Potions. Draco sighed. He had forgotten about potions.

The bed creaked. When Draco turned around, Potter raised himself up, drained the glass, and settled back into bed.

Draco smiled faintly. "Goodnight then."

"Night," Potter muttered.

Draco paused, having the silliest inclination that he might run his fingers through Potter's hair, but stopped himself. He didn't quite talk himself out of picking up Potter's jumper as he left the room, pulling it on before heading to bed himself.