started maybe writing a drarry fic but it’s just a culmination of a bunch of fluffy, sad ideas at the moment, but here’s a cute little scene
Wedged in between an abandoned ice cream parlor and a post office was a small brick storefront, framed by climbing roses and showcasing various mis-matched, antique objects through the front windows.
All Draco saw was a warm light and a shield from the oncoming storm– then all he saw was Teddy Lupin, peeking up from behind that old wooden countertop and surrounded by millions of antiques covered in years of dust.
It took a second, of course, for Draco to fully register the fact that those gray-blue eyes were an exact replica of his own, and he blinked a few times when, for hardly a millisecond, the curls on the top of that small head flashed platinum before returning to their natural turquoise hue.
Draco finally steps inside after a moment, his brow furrowing as he hesitantly watches the small boy scramble off of whatever stool he had currently been perched upon. His eyes widen slowly as Teddy, quite determinedly, walks right up to him.
He’s dressed in a blue and green striped sweater with denim overalls; there’s a bright blue pin on the front pocket that says “Assistant Manager” and mismatched socks peeking from the top of the worn muggle sneakers on his small feet.
The boy gestures to their right, drawing Draco’s attention to a shelf full of antique decanters in a myriad of different colors, “These a-are new— Haz says they’re hand-ade,” Teddy says informatively, staring up at Draco with bright eyes, and if Draco weren’t overwhelmed by the sheer volume of things in this enclosed space and the presence of his estranged cousin in a muggle resale shop, he’d find Teddy’s breathless stutter dreadfully endearing.
“Ah— handmade, you say?” Draco asks after a few awkward moments, finding himself at a loss and just barely stopping himself from running right back out the door.
The second he’d laid eyes on the boy, the first feeling to wash over him was pure shock— the second was pure shame.
His mother spoke of her sister, Andromeda, often. Never in front of his grandparents or Lucius, but when they were by the fire, just the two of them, late at night. His mother would stare off into the fire and he would ask— he always asks what’s wrong.
She would smile, so, so sadly, and tell him stories about Andromeda. Once, with a wave of her hand, she conjured the night sky, moving her hand over the Andromeda Galaxy with reverence. How bright, how damned beautiful was her sister? So encompassing and lovely, was her sister.
He’d never met Andromeda, nor her daughter, but he had met Remus Lupin. He’d met Remus Lupin and he’d said horrible things about the werewolf; about Teddy’s father. Teddy Lupin, his own blood, left without parents because they died so that he and the rest of the world could continue on.
Teddy’s parents who would undoubtedly hate Draco, who wouldn’t want any part of his life touching Teddy’s, because Draco Malfoy was— is— an entitled, bigoted Death Eater, and hadn’t spared a thought for Andromeda nor her orphaned grandson after the war.
The shame soaked through him deeper than the downpour did, but he found himself stuck in place.
He’s learned something new, today; it’s quite difficult to turn down the conversation of a bright, happy Teddy Lupin while he beams up at you, straightening his spine and puffing out his chest pridefully at the opportunity to inform you about antique muggle decanters.
Teddy nods enthusiastically, grinning wide, “Yes! Haz says they’re from the eight-teeth century, and not to touch them because when I touch glass things the-ey break, so I don’t touch them— but I think he would let you! I don’t think you break things yo-ou touch.”
And, wow, wasn’t that just a punch to the gut he wasn’t expecting this morning.
“I’m afraid we have the same habit of breaking things,” Draco says dejectedly, flashing Teddy a small smile before actually getting a good look at his surroundings.
The store, while seeming rather small from the outside, is full to the brim with all sorts of objects. The walls are lined with bookcases, chipped wardrobes and various posters, signs and paintings. There are shelves sticking out from the walls and the odd piece of furniture, creating a haphazard maze, of sorts, that seems to extend so far back that Draco isn’t sure exactly where it ends— if it ends. He suspects some sort of (illegal) extension charm and his brows furrow further.
There are tea sets and glass lamps and VHS tapes and muggle cameras and clothes. Draco isn’t exactly sure how anyone could ever manage to navigate this mess— it doesn’t matter, though, because he isn’t planning on staying long, really; only until the rain stops it’s assault on London.
Teddy seems to be able to navigate the mess just fine as he takes Draco’s hand, leading him further and further into the maze.
They stop in front of what Draco gathers is one of those muggle record players— Granger has one in her small cottage, and Draco had gotten several lectures on how delicate the black discs are, having been on the receiving end of many “don’t touch the needle!”s and “you’re as bad as a toddler!”s every time he attempted to use the damned thing.
Teddy picks up a record from one of the surrounding crates and holds it up to Draco with a grin.
“Two fo-or one sale!” He says brightly, and Draco hesitantly takes the object from the boy, straightening up to give it a good once over.
While every other record seemed to be covered in dust and packed tightly away, this one was smooth to the touch as Draco ran his fingers over the image on the cover. A man, standing in front of a brick building at night. There was a sign above his head reading “K. West”, and in the upper-left corner it read: The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars.
“I’m not sure I understand…”
Draco’s squinting, rereading the words in the hopes that they’d change into a sentence he was able to even begin to understand.
Teddy snatches it from his hands, walking over to the record player with a little hop in his step, smiling excitedly over at Draco before he removes the black disc from its sheath with an impressive amount of care for a toddler.
“This was daddy’s fa-avorite, Haz says,” Teddy tells him softly, and Draco’s heart seizes and stutters and the least he can do is stand there like a dolt and listen to Ziggy Stardust.
He watches with barely suppressed intrigue as Teddy gently eases the needle onto the disc.
He steps back as a calm piano plays through the cluttered store, filling up the space with an easy tune, a strong voice and a steady beat.
He’d never heard music quite like this before, not even at Granger’s, and there’s something overwhelming tugging at him as he looks over at Teddy, watching him drum his little fingers against his overalls. He can’t help but smile a little when Teddy lifts his gaze, grinning up at Draco and bobbing his head encouragingly.
The band was all together
The song went on forever”
Draco concedes to the boy's silent encouragement, bobbing his head along with Teddy, prompting a sudden giggle out of his small cousin.
Teddy starts mouthing the words around his grin.
When they asked if I knew his name,”
They both jumped at the distant call, and Teddy quickly scrambled to stop the record before whoever called for him rounded the corner.
“I’m no-ot supposed to play the records when Harry’s not here,” Teddy whispers, shooting a wide eyed, guilty look Draco’s way— as if they were both in trouble.
haven’t attempted really writing a drarry fic because good god the amount of feelings jam packed into these things is crazy and i’m gonna have to do my best to sort through it all 🫡
