Despite what Potter had said, Draco assumed nothing would come of his impulsive invitation.

Potter didn't say anything more about it that night. And Draco didn't see Potter for more than a few minutes the next day. He was called away by a patronus who spoke in an unfamiliar, impatient voice before Potter had even started breakfast. This was especially unfortunate because Draco rather liked it when Potter made him breakfast. Potter came back so late; Draco was actually asleep and didn't see him.

Draco woke up in a morning that was verging on noon. The kitchen looked untouched and quiet. He made tea and toaster waffles and left. He spent a few hours chatting with Elle in her flat and found his missing pack of cigarettes under her dresser. She had to go to a doctor's appointment, and Draco was about to look for someone else to talk to when an owl landed on the railing in front of Draco.

Draco carefully untied the small roll of paper from the owl's leg.

In Potter's scratchy handwriting, it read:

I didn't know how else to get ahold of you, so if you're not busy, meet me in front of Sea Life in an hour, and we'll go, alright? Send a message back if you can't make it.

Draco wet his lips, a little thrill of excitement making him smile unconsciously as he read the message again.

He brushed the back of his finger across the owl's soft feathery chest, "No return message," he told the owl, "and I'm afraid I don't have any treats for you. I haven't received an owl in a long time."

The owl hooted mournfully and flew off. Draco hurried down the stairs. At the bottom, he found Samuel staring up at the sky, shading his eyes against the glare.

"Hello," Draco said.

"Was that an owl?" Samuel asked, bewildered.

"Yes," Draco said.

"In London?" Samuel said.

"That is where we are," Draco said blandly.

"That's wild," Samuel said, looking down at Draco. "I've never seen an owl around here. You must've seen it up close, up there."

"I did. They're quite beautiful," Draco said.

"That is the bloody astonishing," Samuel said with a faint laugh.

"I need to go-" Draco hesitated, "Would you know where the Sea Life aquarium is?"

Samuel nodded, clearly still distracted, "Yeah. It's right in the thick of things, next to the Westminster bridge, across the river from the ruddy big clock."

Draco smirked, "Big Ben?"

"Like there's any other I could be talking about?" Samuel said.

"I'm fairly certain there are other large clo-"

"You knew which one I was talking about," Samuel said with a pointed look. "Anyway. Easy. Just take the tube, District line. It's a quick ride; you'll be there in twenty, thirty minutes."

Draco nodded. He had hoped it was somewhere he could apparate, but central London had very few safe apparition locations. Unless he wanted to apparate to the Ministry. And he very much did not.

"I'll walk to the tube with you," Samuel said.

"Do you have work?" Draco asked.

"In a few hours," Samuel said.

"You don't have to come-"

"Nah," Samuel waved his offer off before Draco even managed to say it. "I was gonna head out anyway."

Samuel took the lead. He was close in height to Draco, but his stride was smooth and long in a way that Draco had trouble matching to his own.

"Out of curiosity," Draco said, "I have noticed that you often leave well before you have to work."

Samuel nodded silently.

"Might I ask, what do you do?" Draco asked.

Samuel was starting to smile and hid it behind his hand.

"What?" Draco asked.

"Just when you get all posh," Samuel said.

"It's not funny," Draco said.

Samuel gave up trying to hide his grin, "If you say so, mate."

Draco sighed hugely and rolled his eyes. "If that's your way of cleverly avoiding the question, then you should know it didn't work."

"Damn," Samuel said jokingly. "Well, it's nothing exciting. I just like to walk around."

"No destinations?" Draco asked.

"There are some routes I like to take. I got a couple favourites," Samuel said. "I'll walk to work sometimes, if the mood strikes me."

"That's miles!" Draco said.

Samuel nodded.

Draco wasn't sure what to say.

"I like walking," Samuel said.

"I gathered that," Draco said.

Samuel laughed. "Just don't ask if you can come along."

"I doubt I would want to," Draco said.

"Good. Cause you're not invited," Samuel said. His tone was joking, but Draco could tell he was entirely serious.

"You've always said you don't like people," Draco said.

"It's not that I dislike people. Mostly. A few are alright," Samuel said, glancing over at Draco.

"And Elle," Draco said.

Samuel nodded, "People just tire me out. I prefer people... in small doses."

"I feel honoured to be among the few," Draco said.

Samuel shrugged, "You and Elle are alright if I don't say much. I appreciate that. I was always a better listener than a talker."

"I consider anyone who doesn't interrupt me to be a fantastic listener," Draco said.

"I can see that, yeah," Samuel laughed lightly. "So why're you headed to the aquarium?"

"Well..." Draco hesitated and then decided to just be honest, "My group therapist told us to do something we had never done before."

"And you've never been to the aquarium?" Samuel asked.

Draco nodded, "I have never been to any aquarium."

Samuel raised an eyebrow.

"My parents cult would not have approved," Draco said with faux solemnity.

Samuel huffed a laugh. "So you're doing therapy?"

Draco nodded.

"In a group?" Samuel shook his head, "I couldn't do a group thing." He flexed his hands uncomfortably, "Just... no."

"There are only four of us, and Iris, the therapist," Draco said.

"Are they usually so small? I thought it was like a room full of people," Samuel said.

"My cult history makes things difficult, I'm sure," Draco said.

"Are you going to the aquarium with someone from your group?" Samuel asked.

"Uh, no," Draco said.

Samuel shot him a sideways look.

"I... I happen to be going with Potter," Draco said.

"Yeah? Some new bloke, on a proper date?" Samuel asked.

Draco grimaced, "Not quite. Potter is the cop bloke that was bothering me."

"Hm," Samuel said, stopping in the middle of the pavement.

Draco pointedly didn't say anything, already wincing in anticipation.

"Thought he wasn't your type," Samuel said, dropping the words into the open air like pebbles into a stream.

Draco let out a sigh. "Yes, well..."

Samuel was grinning.

"I suppose he's tolerable enough," Draco said.

Samuel laughed, "Tolerable."

"Yes," Draco said, feeling a bit grumpy.

"I don't know about dating a fucking cop," Samuel said.

Draco felt a pinch in his heart and quickly shoved the feeling down. "I'm not. It's not a date. He's- He's making things up to me, for taking my wallet and losing me my flat."

Samuel nodded.

"He does owe it to me," Draco said.

Samuel nodded again. "...Just be careful."

"I mean it!" Draco said.

"So do I," Samuel said.

The few people on the street were flowing around them, with a mix of glares and indifference thrown their way.

Samuel tilted his head toward the entrance to the Underground.

"Oh," Draco almost jumped, so sucked into the conversation that he hadn't realised they had arrived.

"Check in later, will you? So we know you're not dead," Samuel said.

"Oh, fuck off," Draco said fondly, shaking his head as Samuel turned and continued down the pavement.

Draco took the tube down to Westminster. He was always a bit in awe when he went into the underground. The London above had touches of the past, with the new modern buildings and signs stuck on, but things became almost otherworldly once he took the steps down.

Everything was metal and concrete, shining and sharp with newness. And yet there were touches of people everywhere, smudges and scuffs, bits of rubbish and lost papers. And the living, breathing feeling of the place managed to make it less frightening.

When he had first come to muggle London, he had gotten into the habit of riding the tube, taking different lines at a whim. Late at night and early in the morning, when the stations and long metal cars were less crowded and seemed quietly surreal. And during the day he would go to small cheap theatres, staying in the same seat all day, watching film after film while eating stale popcorn and sipping vodka mixed with whatever drink they gave him. It was a way to be alone without actually being alone.

He had been a bit afraid of muggles then. But eventually, his own loneliness got the better of him, and he started talking to them, any of them, really. Once he got over the fear, the novelty of being able to speak with someone without his whole life reflected back at him was a relief. The alcohol helped. It always helped make him feel less afraid.

Draco lit up one of the slightly squashed cigarettes as he left the Westminster station, breathing in deep enough to feel light-headed. It helped ease the faint jag of anxiety running like a current under his skin.

Samuel's vague directions were still plenty enough for Draco to spot where he was going. At the end of the bridge, a path ran along the river. Draco had to assume he wasn't meant to head towards the hospital on one side. So he followed the river on the other side, toward the Eye of London.

He spotted Potter before the aquarium, although once he saw the large golden seahorses framing the doorway, he wouldn't have missed it.

Potter was leaning over the wall and looking down at the dark muddy waters of the Thames, wearing his slightly too baggy jeans, one knee ripped, topped by a red and gold flannel shirt. He had pressed some of his messy hair down under a grey beanie Draco had never seen before. It hid his scar and made his glasses look almost fashionable. It made Potter look terribly normal and somehow more human and vulnerable because of it.

Draco walked over, leaning against the wall next to Potter.

Potter's first inclination was to glare, likely because Draco was smoking a fag. Draco's first inclination to being glared at was to blow smoke in Potter's face.

Potter waved the smoke off with a cough, "You smoke?"

"Sometimes," Draco said, shrugging.

Potter was frowning.

Draco grinned, "You're only sour because it's not on the list of things I'm not allowed."

"That's-"

"Do you smoke, Potter?" Draco asked.

"Only when I've had too much to drink," Potter said.

Draco laughed, "That's how I got started as well."

Potter turned around, leaning his back against the stone, "You're late."

Draco rolled his eyes, "You said an hour. So I am very much not late."

"I figured you'd show up right away if you were coming," Potter said.

"I took the underground. I don't know any safe apparition zones this close to central London," Draco said.

"The Ministry is right-" Potter gestured vaguely down the way.

"I said safe. Potter," Draco interrupted.

Potter frowned, "No one would hurt you. Not in the Ministry."

"There is more pain than physical in this world," Draco said.

Potter blinked.

"What?" Draco asked tersely.

"That's kind of poetic," Potter said. "There's more pain than physical in the world," he repeated thoughtfully.

"This world," Draco corrected, "There's more pain than physical in this world."

"Did you get that from somewhere?" Potter asked, ignoring the correction.

"As in-?"

"Is it a quote from somewhere?" Potter asked.

Draco shrugged, "No. I don't think so. And fuck off. I can be clever sometimes."

Potter snorted, "You've always had a smart mouth."

"Careful," Draco said suggestively, "You'll give me ideas."

"I-" Potter broke off, looking thoroughly flustered.

Draco laughed. He crushed the butt of the cigarette on the top of the wall. "Shall we then?"

Potter frowned, stepping close to the wall to block the view with his body and flicking his wrist just so- making the butt vanish.

Draco's eyebrows rose in surprise, but he hid it by the time Potter looked over at him. "Flirt."

"I- What? No-" Potter said, running after Draco as he headed towards the museum doors. "-you just, you shouldn't litter."

Draco had to roll his eyes, "I would have taken it to the bins if you'd given me half a second."

"And I fail to see how that was flirty," Potter grumbled.

"Wandless magic? Really?" Draco said, holding one of the doors open against his back, "You were showing off."

"No," Potter said firmly, trying to look serious and even giving Draco a glare that Draco supposed was to add to the effect.

Draco thought he looked pouty.

"We can't use wands in public, so-"

"Oh, and you can't use a bin, then?" Draco teased.

The pout only increased in intensity.

"I wasn't showing off," Potter said stiffly, brushing past Draco as he went inside.

Draco did his very best not to laugh at Potter while he paid for their tickets.

The entry was darker than he expected, with a low-lit, shadowy feel that reminded Draco of a cave. And in fact, there were a collection of large boulders that, as Draco approached them, turned out to be tidepools, with rocks- that Draco realised- were made of something like plastic.

"You can touch them, you know," a little girl's voice said knowledgeably.

Draco looked over at the lowest tidepool where a young black girl, her hair pulled up into two poofs, was leaning over a rock, her hand in the water.

"You can?" Draco said.

She nodded, "It's inter-active."

Draco went to her pool, kneeling next to it and looking into where her fingers brushed across an anemone's pale pink tendrils.

"They stick to your fingers," The little girl said, "That's 'cause they're trying to kill them."

Draco blinked in surprise.

The little girl laughed with delight, "They eat little things, though, so they can't hurt us. They just want to."

"You know a lot about sea anemones," Draco said.

"I know so much about them," She said seriously, "I'm going to know everything about everything in the ocean. I'm going to be a marine biologist when I grow up."

Draco hesitantly reached toward the water.

"Are your hands clean?" The little girl demanded.

Draco stopped, "I think-"

"Wash!" She demanded, pointing to a washroom. When Draco didn't go immediately, she added, "You have to. You don't want to make them sick!"

Draco obediently went into the washroom and quickly scrubbed his hands. When he came back, the little girl had been joined by her mother.

When she saw Draco, she smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry about Mia. You don't have to wash your hands before-"

"Yes, he does," Mia said, "Everyone should. Hands are yucky."

"Mia-"

"Okay, now your hands are clean, come here," Mia said, waving for him impatiently. As soon as Draco was beside the pool, she pointed to the sea anemone she had touched earlier.

Draco put his hand in the water, colder than he was expecting, and slowly carefully put them near the pinkish-clear arms of the anemone, almost laughing when they clung to his skin.

"There are starfish too," Mia pointed out a small red starfish, "And there are supposed to be crabs, but they mostly hide. Starfish can drop an arm off, you know."

"Really?" Draco asked, pulling his fingers away from the anemone, "Is it alright to touch it then?"

"Yes. They only cut a limb off if you try to eat it. And you're not going to eat them," Mia said.

Draco ran his fingers over the starfish, its body firm and spongy.

"On their underside, they have like a million legs that look like worms and use them to move around. And they can barf their stomach out of their body to eat things that are bigger than them and-"

"Mia," Mia's mother said, "You shouldn't bother-"

"I'm not bothering him." Mia looked at Draco, "I'm not bothering you am I?"

"No. Not at all," Draco said. "I don't know very much about the ocean."

Mia frowned at him, "The ocean is amazing."

Draco nodded.

"So you should learn everything about-"

"Mia," Her mother said.

Mia turned to her mother, "He said I wasn't bothering him!"

Mia's mother sighed, but it was full of fond exasperation, "We only have an hour. Then we have to go home."

Mia huffed at her, far more frustrated, "Well, we can come back tomorrow."

"We're busy tomorrow," Her mother said.

Mia groaned, "You said I could come every day with the annual pass!"

"If we have time," Mia's mother said. She smiled, "We can come back this weekend, okay?"

"There are too many people on the weekends," Mia grumbled.

Mia's mother looked at her watch, "Forty-five minutes left."

"Okaaay," Mia said. She took a few steps away before looking back at Draco. "I've gotta go. Make sure you read the information on the boards." She pointed at a plaque beside the pools.

"I will," Draco said, "Thank you for teaching me."

Mia nodded and was nearly around the corner when she turned back, "What's your name?"

"Draco," Draco said.

Mia frowned, "That's not a name."

"Mia! Don't be rude!" Her mother scolded.

"Fine. It's a weird name," Mia conceded.

Her mother sighed.

Draco laughed, "It's alright. It is a weird name."

"Bye, Draco!" Mia waved again and ran off, her mother following behind her.

Draco waved goodbye. He looked up as a faint shadow fell over him, "Quit looming, Potter."

Potter stepped next to him at the rock pool.

"Have you ever touched an anemone?" Draco asked.

Potter shook his head and, Draco noticed, slipped his hands into his pockets.

"Come on then," Draco said.

"My hands aren't clean," Potter said.

Draco laughed. "You don't have to. Come here, you wanker."

Potter very slowly, very uncertainly knelt beside him.

"In the summer, when I was young, my mother would take me to the seaside and sometimes I would find tidepools like this. She wouldn't let me play in them." Draco frowned to himself, remembering the little white and blue suits he would wear, his mother carrying an umbrella to shield her fair skin from the sun. The sand would get into his shoes and socks, and if his mother's attention wavered for even a second, he would chuck them off to run barefoot in the warm gritty sand.

A crab sidled out from behind a rock, and Draco held very still as it used its tiny pincers to examine one of his fingers.

"She said venomous canurchin might be hidden among the rocks," Draco said. "They're a type of crab covered in venomous spines used in some potions. They hide by disguising themselves as urchins. I found out later that they only occur in the Mediterranean. She just didn't want me to get dirty."

"I've never been to the seaside," Potter said.

Draco turned to look at Potter, who was studying the shallow pool intently.

"Well. That won't do," Draco said, already thinking of the best places he might take Potter.

"What-?" Potter started.

"Here," Draco grabbed Potter's hand and guided it into the water. He could feel Potter jump as the anemone's tentacles touched his skin and then quickly pulled back into itself from Potter's sudden movement.

"Oh. That was-" Potter blinked, "Did I scare it?"

"Look, here's another one," Draco pointed to a large green anemone.

Potter put his fingers over the green anemone. A slow smile crept over his face as the anemone clung to his fingertips.

Draco rested his hand against his cheek, watching Potter. The way his eyes began to crinkle on the edges from his smile and just how gentle his expression was.

Potter looked over at Draco and blinked in surprise, "What?"

Draco shrugged and looked back at the tide pool, "There are starfish, as well."

Potter followed his gaze and briefly touched the starfish before standing up, wiping his hands dry on his jeans, "Come on. We can't spend all day here."

"Can't we?" Draco asked as he stood up.

"They're going to close in a few hours," Potter said.

Draco hurried to keep up and then stopped in his tracks as he came around the corner and saw a window as big as the wall, blue and moving with life. He walked forward slowly, eyes wide, until he was right in front of the massive aquarium.

There were fish of every colour and size, and giant rays, their wide lithe bodies moving through the air more gracefully than a bird on the wing. A manta ray suddenly crossed the front of the window, and Draco jumped and then laughed, half in surprise, half in delight.

Draco looked around for Potter, "Did you see it?"

"Yeah," Potter said, a few steps back.

"It's amazing!" Draco said, looking down into the large tank, "And it was built entirely by hand! No magic at all."

"Well..."

"Look! There are whale bones. Do you suppose they're real?" Draco asked, pointing down at the bottom of the tank.

"Probably not," Potter said. He slowly came up to stand by Draco's side.

Draco smiled hugely, "They look remarkably real, don't you think?"

"Well, muggles made them," Potter said a touch defensively.

Draco rolled his eyes, "I just meant that it was impressive."

"Err..."

Draco squinted, leaning forward to try and make out something blurry running through the middle of the tank.

"Sorry-"

Draco finally realised what it was and hurried around the wall.

"Hey!" Potter called after him.

There was another long stretch of tank wall, two large windows, and in between them the arched entrance into a tunnel.

Draco almost ran and gasped as he stepped inside the long tunnel of blue. Fish swam all around him, blue and yellow and red, some as small as his pinky, some nearly as large as him.

Potter sighed loudly as he caught up, "...I just don't know what to make of you, Malfoy."

Draco huffed a laugh, "Feel free to tell me once you've figured it out."

A stingray, even bigger than the last one, drifted overhead, and Draco jumped at the shadow as it passed. As his nerves settled, Draco craned his head back to watch it.

"You didn't use to be so jumpy, did you?" Potter asked.

"No," Draco said. He smiled sourly to himself, "There was a bloke at one of the first flats I lived at, Richie; he called me a flinchy faggot."

He glanced over at Potter, who was frowning, "What an asshole."

Draco smiled. It felt nice to have Potter frown for him for once. "He liked to startle me on purpose. Thought it was hilarious. Safe to say, I didn't like him much." He didn't add that he had put up with Richie for far too long because the chavvy fuck would seek him out and start conversations, and Draco had been that desperate to be... just to be seen by someone.

"I'm surprised you don't have work," Draco said.

"No," Potter said, sounding a bit distracted, "There was a big raid yesterday. And a press conference about it this morning." A pinch appeared between Potter's eyebrows. He was staring out into the tank, but Draco wasn't sure he was actually looking at anything. "I took the rest of the day off."

Draco leaned back against the tunnel wall, "And which do you hate more? The raid or the press conference?"

"What?" Potter said, looking at him in surprise.

"Which do you hate more? The raid or the press conference?" Draco asked again.

Potter's lips thinned. "What makes you think I hate either one?" he said stiffly.

Draco reached up and briefly tapped the furrow between Potter's browns before Potter leaned back out of reach, "This."

The furrow deepened.

Draco had to smile, "That is not the expression of someone happy, Potter."

Potter turned to look out the other side of the tunnel, "Press conferences. I hate that sort of thing."

"Then don't do them?" Draco suggested.

Potter shook his head, "If I'm part of a mission, the press will want to hear from me."

"You could say no? There are other people in auror's, aren't there?" Draco asked.

"Yes," Potter said tightly, "But it's better PR for the department if I do it."

"You could just say-"

"Robard's, the head auror, he arranges everything," Potter said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And-?" Draco said.

"And what?" Potter asked, turning back to face Draco.

"And you could still say no," Draco said, raising an eyebrow. "Seriously, you're Harry Potter. They can't fire you. It would look bad. It would look even worse if you quit. You could literally ask for a hundred paid days off, and they'd have to give it to you."

"That's not... I couldn't...." Potter blinked, his arms relaxing slightly.

"You could."

"That's... that's not the sort of thing people do," Potter said, "It's- It's not done."

"You aren't people. You're Harry Potter," Draco said.

"I hate that," Potter muttered, glaring out of that tank as a little yellow little fish swam by.

"You haven't much choice in the matter, princess," Draco said.

Potter laughed despite himself.

"And there are much worse fates. You could be me," Draco said deprecatingly.

"Malfoy-"

"You can't say you'd rather have my life," Draco gesturing down at himself, "Not after everything."

"It couldn't have been too bad in the beginning, up to fifth year, maybe, I would trade for that, I bet," Potter said.

Draco didn't know what to say to that, so he settled on a joke instead, "You'd have never survived the dungeons. The humidity was awful; your hair would have eaten you alive."

Potter laughed.

Draco smiled and turned on his heel, heading through to the other side of the tunnel.

On the other side of the tunnel was a hallway of smaller tanks filled with colourful fish swimming around small coral reefs. At the end of that hallway was another massive tank. This one had a Moai head in the centre that looked like one of Easter Island's giant carved stone heads.

A shark, the size of a small child, swam past the glass. Behind the Moai head were several other sharks, cutting through the water like grey daggers.

"Draco!" Mia shouted, waving at him excitedly. She was standing next to the tank, hands pressed against the glass. "Look! The big ones are sand tiger sharks, they're named Zippy and Bungle. Isn't that funny?"

Mia pointed out two sharks bigger than her with open mouths full of razor-sharp teeth.

"You like sharks?" Draco asked.

"Yes?! Who doesn't?" Mia said.

"Well..." Draco said, not terribly wanting to admit it in the face of Mia's obvious enthusiasm.

Mia huffed at him, "I bet you think they're just big dumb monsters."

"They do-"

"They can't help that they have to eat things to stay alive," Mia interrupted, "Besides, sharks don't hunt humans."

"But I've heard about sharks attacking people," Draco said.

"Not. On. Purpose." Mia said firmly, "Sharks think we taste icky! They only bite people because they look like seals or like something they don't know, and they have to bite it because that's how they figure things out. Because they don't have hands-" she held up her hands, "-so they have to figure things out with their mouths like puppies do! So really, it's our fault for looking like food when we aren't."

Draco couldn't help but laugh. "So... that movie, Jaws, was all a lie?"

Mia groaned hugely, "That movie is the worst! Great Whites don't eat people!"

"Except when they look like seals," Draco said.

Mia glared at him, "They don't eat them. People taste gross, so they spit them out!"

"Okay, okay!" Draco said. He looked back in the tank.

"Besides, humans eat tons of sharks," Mia said, her tone grim, "They cut off their fins and throw them back into the ocean to die. We're terrible to sharks. I don't think anyone should hate sharks. They should feel sorry for them instead."

Draco blinked in surprise, "I didn't know that."

Mia nodded knowledgeably, "Some sharks are endangered now because people kill so many of them. It's sad."

"That- that is sad," Draco said.

They stood side by side, watching the sharks for a while.

"That's a nurse shark," Mia pointed to a shark laying sedately on the bottom of the tank, "Most sharks have to swim all the time to keep the water going through their gills to breathe, so if they stop swimming, they'll die!" Mia widened her eyes theatrically. "But nurse sharks can blow water over their gills themselves so they can stop and take a rest."

"Are they your favourite?" Draco asked.

Mia thought about it for a second, then said, "They're... my third favourite, I think."

Draco nodded. "Then what's your second favourite?"

Mia looked around the tanks until she spotted a shark with black spots on the tips of its fins, "Blacktip reef sharks."

They looked like any other shark in the tank to Draco, so he asked, "Why are they your second favourite?"

"They give birth to live babies. Most sharks lay eggs," Mia said, "the babies have to hide when they're little, or they get eaten by big fish and other sharks."

She looked up at Draco and then back into the tank, "And I like their eyes. They look like cat's eyes. I think they're pretty."

Draco watched closely as a blacktip reef shark swam close. Its yellow cat-like eyes seemed uncannily intelligent.

"Which is your favourite?" Draco asked.

"Hammerheads," Mia said. She curled her hands into fists and put them on the sides of her head, "I like their weird heads."

"Twenty minutes, Mia," Mia's mom said.

"I want to look at the jellyfish before we go, so I have to go," Mia said.

"It was nice to talk to you again," Draco said.

"Yeah!" Mia said, "Bye, Draco!"

"Bye, Mia," Draco said, waving as she ran off.

Draco turned, finding Potter a few steps behind Draco, watching, as always.

"You're... you're good with kids," Potter said.

"Yes?" Draco said defensively.

"I just- I didn't expect..." Potter trailed off.

Draco smiled sourly.

"Meant nothing bad," Potter said quickly, and not entirely coherently. "I'm just- I'm good at playing with kids, but I never know what to say to them."

Draco took a breath, trying to shake off his defensiveness, "Just listen to them. Most adults don't really listen to kids. So they appreciate the ones that do."

Potter nodded. "Yeah... yeah, that's true."

Draco turned back to the tank, "How do you feel about sharks?"

"I've never really thought about them," Potter said as he walked up next to Draco, "Until now, anyway."

"After watching that movie, Jaws, I thought they were all killers, but apparently that was a lie."

"You can't believe what you see in movies," Potter said.

"Some of it is real, though," Draco said, "They say they're based on a true story."

"Doesn't mean they aren't exaggerating. Or lying," Potter said.

Draco glanced over at Potter.

"What?" Potter asked.

"That's a very negative view of things," Draco said.

"It's true," Potter said with a shrug. "Have you watched many muggle movies?"

"I don't think it needs the preface of 'muggle' seeing as wizards don't have them," Draco said.

"I guess, yeah," Potter said.

"I like theatres. They're dark and quiet, and you get to watch a show that seems like magic but better," Draco said, "It's nice to forget for a while."

Draco put his hand against the glass.

"Uh... I'm going out with Ron and a few other blokes after they get off work," Potter said.

"And you're telling me, why?" Draco asked.

"Just, so you don't have to wait up or worry," Potter said.

Draco raised an eyebrow. Before Potter could ruin the sentiment, he said, "I appreciate it."

"And I feel bad. About going out to have a drink," Potter's face scrunched up, "I know, it's stupid-"

"Thank you," Draco said.

Potter blinked and looked over at him.

"I like the hat," Draco said, changing the subject.

Potter reached up and tugged at the hat absently. "It was a gift. ...I've never really worn it before."

"It makes it look like you got dressed on purpose," Draco said.

Potter's brow furrowed for a moment, but then he relaxed and let out a little pfft of amusement, "As opposed to what? Getting dressed on accident?"

"I always assumed you got dressed in the dark," Draco said. "Or with your eyes closed."

Potter laughed, "Yeah, I just don't care about stuff like that."

"It's a shame," Draco said.

"Is it? It's just clothes," Potter said.

"You're very attractive, but you seemed determined to hide it with the worst outfits a human being could wear," Draco said.

"I- what?" Potter's words caught in his throat, and he started coughing.

Draco rolled his eyes, trying not to get flustered by Potter's reaction, "I'm not blind. I mean, granted, I'm sure you're not everyone's cup of tea, but in general, you're attractive."

Potter leaned on the glass, hiding his face with his hand. "I-" he tried to clear his throat, "...thanks? I guess?"

"It wasn't intended as a compliment," Draco said, frowning at his own heating cheeks. "I would have thought you'd be used to it by now."

"Hm?" Potter thumped his chest and gave another faint cough.

"Being called attractive." Draco said, "I imagine you're named one of Witch Weekly's most eligible wizards every year."

Potter shrugged, "....I dunno. I really, really hate that stuff. I only read the Quibbler. Luna doesn't care about stuff like that."

Draco snorted. "Of course."

"So uh..." Potter looked around and then started walking towards a set of stairs going up to more of the museum. "There's more this way."

Draco followed behind him. On the upper floor, they walked over the top of the tank below, sharks swimming in sedate circles around the statue under their feet.

"Also, Ron talked me into holding a game night again," Potter said.

"Which is?" Draco asked.

"Uh, Ron and Hermione and maybe some of our other friends come over after work, and we play cards or board games," Potter said. "I don't know when it will be, but once I do, I'll tell you in case-"

"You don't know when it will be?" Draco interrupted.

"Hermione has the most chaotic schedule out of all of us, so she sets the day, and then I send out owls to everyone else, and if they can make it, they come," Potter said. "Sometimes, it's just the three of us. But it can get pretty crowded."

There was a display about the habitats of the Thames river, with different plants and small brown fish swimming near the bottom of the tanks. Draco was surprised that anything managed to live in the Thames, which looked more like mud than water from the shore.

"If you don't want to be around, I can warn you beforehand so-"

"I want to be there," Draco said.

Potter paused to look back, "Really?"

"I'm curious," Draco said.

Potter narrowed his eyes.

"And I want to make everyone uncomfortable," Draco added.

"That seems more like it," Potter said dryly. "I'll tell everyone no alcohol, then."

Draco grimaced, "You don't have to-"

"No. They can manage without. Besides, it'd be hard to have it around, wouldn't it?" Potter said.

It would be torture, Draco didn't say. Instead, he said, "I've been surrounded by alcohol my whole life. I can't remember a time when my mother didn't have wine with dinner and father didn't have a whiskey in the evening."

There was an archway in front of them, decorated with pink and purple neon jellyfish, the neon lights extending into the exhibit to light the whole hallway.

Potter stopped walking, and Draco took several steps past him before he realised that Potter wasn't following him.

"There's something I wanted to ask you," Potter said.

"Ominous," Draco said, walking backwards toward the exhibit.

"It's just, you said you started drinking when you were sixteen-"

"Yes?" Draco said.

"So... What happened?" Potter asked.

Draco sighed, leaning back against the archway, "It's not that interesting."

Potter was unmoved and waited for Draco to answer.

"It was before I was going to take the mark," Draco said. He took a deep breath looking down at the floor, "Mother had one of our elves get father's whiskey decanter."

"Your mother was the one-?" Potter asked.

"She asked for a calming draught first, but we were out," Draco said defensively.

"Oh," Potter said.

"She told me that the most important thing was that I didn't cry out," Draco said, "We were in such a precarious position, and Mother was doing everything she could to protect us without scaring me."

"She didn't tell you it would hurt?" Potter asked.

"I already knew it would hurt. Greyback and the others took every opportunity to tell me," Draco said. "I just wasn't prepared for how much. I don't think anyone could be. It was worse than a crucio. It even hurt more than-" he hesitated and decided not to say 'what you did to me'; instead he said, "...anything I've ever experienced."

Potter took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Draco thought Potter might have been clenching his jaw but was too far away to be sure. He wished he knew what Potter was thinking.

"But I didn't make a sound," Draco said with a grim sort of pride. He had cried, a few tears squeezed out that he couldn't stop, but only Voldemort had seen them. The cruel smile Voldemort had made then would haunt Draco's nightmares for the rest of his life.

Draco pushed off from the archway and headed into the exhibit. The neon pink and purple lights painted his skin in pastels, his hair catching shards of light that he could just make out in his reflection in the tank glass. Jellyfish floated through the water, white bells with long fluttering white lace-like tentacles flowing after them. They looked perfectly unearthly in their beauty.

"Malfoy," Potter called.

Draco turned around.

Potter stopped in his tracks. His lips pulled apart like they might form a word that never came.

The look in Potter's eyes sent a shudder through the centre of him. "Yes?" Draco asked, his voice coming out softer than he intended.

"I-" Potter wavered, and his eyes seemed to trace over Draco.

Draco unconsciously wet his lips, and Potter suddenly looked away.

"It's nothing," Potter said quickly, hurrying past Draco.

Draco stayed. Until he felt like he could breathe again. And told himself over and over again that it didn't mean anything. He had just been seeing more than was there. It was nothing.