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FADE IN:
INT. DRACO’S FLAT - DAY
Sun filters through a window. The space is neat and sparse and empty.
A voicemail starts playing after a BEEP tone.
HARRY POTTER (OFF-SCREEN)
Hey… How are you? I, er… I’ve got Matilda here - with me.
(forced chuckle)
I think she misses you. Yeah - I dunno, she keeps, um, meowing at the door and all. Like she’s waiting for you.
On the wall, there’s pictures of Harry and Draco. On the windowsill: a little flower, a paper crane, and a still, shiny snitch.
The place is muggle, with a telly, the radio, a fridge, etc. But there’s a cauldron on a shelf, old looking books, and ornamental, almost out of place furniture.
The voicemail continues.
HARRY POTTER (OFF-SCREEN)
…You always had the best treats, I suppose…
(pause)
Um, I hope you’re well? You’ve received my letters, right? Take your time, it’s - it’s fine. I won’t bother you. Or no more than I already have, I guess. I just hope you’re…well.
(another pause)
So, yeah. We’ll talk, or something. Right? Okay, have a nice day, Draco.
The voicemail ends. Silence emerges.
Then - a sigh.
Draco sits at a small round table, leg crossed over the other. He’s rolling his wand on the table, playing with it absentmindedly. He frowns down at it.
Because the table isn’t quite even, he flicks it, and it rolls forward, then back toward his fingers. Over and over.
The kettle suddenly whistles, and he stands, tense. At the counter, he pours boiling water into a mug.
But in the corner, tucked next to the fridge and the sugar jar, there’s letters.
Draco pauses, looking at them. He runs a hand through his hair, and it’s a shaky movement. His breaths are unsteady. He stares.
Suddenly, he grabs his mug, and walks out of the room.
Across the still space, the TITLE CARD fades in slowly: LEARNING TO CRADLE
CUT TO:
INT. JANUS THICKLY WARD - DAY
Draco walks through the quiet hallway, the heels of his fancy shoes clacking against the floor. He glances as a mediwizard passes by him, but barely.
He stops in front of a door. His palms are sweaty, and he brushes them over his pants, subtly.
With a deep breath, he straightens, his face smoothing out, and pushes the door open.
The day room is lively. There were children playing, laughing, and running. Their drawings were on the wall. Others were pouring over a game of Wizard’s chess.
Signs of injury, of instability, are present, but no more than mere details. Everyone there are just people.
By the window, his mother is sitting, weaving needlepoints.
Draco approaches calmly and sits in front of her.
DRACO MALFOY
Mother.
She looks up, an empty smile on her face.
NARCISSA MALFOY
Darling, hello.
She pats his fist, and he relaxes his hand.
DRACO MALFOY
How are you?
NARCISSA MALFOY
I’m fine, dragon.
Draco nods, the sun pouring onto the side of his face. It's a sunny day. And she does look okay.
NARCISSA MALFOY (CONTINUED)
And you?
DRACO MALFOY
I’m fine, Mother.
He looks down, and slowly, he takes her hand, squeezing. Pale skin next to paler skin.
NARCISSA MALFOY
And how is Harry?
Draco looks up sharply at that. He doesn’t move.
DRACO MALFOY
He’s fine.
NARCISSA MALFOY
You know, I’ve just been waiting to hear engagement announcements. Everyday, I look over Witches Weekly’s wedding section.
He still doesn’t move, barely breathes. He watches as her smile lightens, almost happy.
NARCISSA MALFOY (CONTINUED)
It’s just so wonderful. The gardens would be perfect for the event. The Manor could really use some festivities.
DRACO MALFOY
Mother…
NARCISSA MALFOY
Tulips would look wonderful. They’re your favorite, and roses are too cliche, anyway. What do you think?
She smiles at him, looking so hopeful. He reluctantly smiles back, indulgent.
He pats her hand.
DRACO MALFOY (almost whispering)
I think it’s perfect, Mother.
She continues to talk animatedly. Draco looks back at the door, on the edge of his seat, ready to get out already. Though, he stays seated for her.
Her voice becomes muffled. His foot taps the ground. A child is crying. He wipes his free hand against his trousers.
DRACO MALFOY (cutting her off)
Mother.
She finally stops talking, blinking at him.
NARCISSA MALFOY
Yes, dragon?
He glances at the little girl crying.
DRACO MALFOY
Was I a happy child?
She pauses at that, and he squeezes her hand again, leg restless. His foot continues to tap the ground with small CLICKS.
NARCISSA MALFOY
Of course.
He nods.
DRACO MALFOY
Okay.
He looks at the little girl again. A mediwitch scooped her up, rocking her gently.
CUT TO:
INT. DRACO’S FLAT: BEDROOM - NIGHT
Draco is laying in bed, his eyes open. He’s looking at the ceiling intensely.
His jaw is set. He breathes quietly.
DRACO MALFOY (muttering)
Salazar, fine.
He pushes his covers away and stands. Then hesitates, almost stepping forward but not quite. He groans, running his hand through his hair.
Finally, he stomps through the flat, grumbling under his breath.
He stops in front of the answering machine, shoving the button before crossing his arms.
There’s a BEEP before the voicemail starts.
HARRY POTTER (OFF-SCREEN)
Hey… How are you? I, er… I’ve got Matilda here - with me…
Draco rolls his eyes at that, huffing. He fast-forward a bit.
HARRY POTTER
…I won’t bother you. Or no more than I already have, I guess. I just hope you’re…well. So, yeah. We’ll talk, or something. Right? Okay, have a nice day, Draco.
Draco clings to his arms, holding himself tight. In the silver moonlight, his eyes are glistening.
DRACO MALFOY (whispering)
Fuck.
CUT TO:
INT. SNUGGLE CHARM’S: BABY STORE - DAY
Pansy is rambling on and on, fluttering about, while Draco follows reluctantly. He looks tired.
Then, she abruptly stops, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
PANSY PARKINSON
You didn’t have to come, you know. If I wanted an annoying arse around, I would have asked Blaise.
She absentmindedly picks up an odd looking plush. It starts to dance and she throws it back on the shelf.
DRACO MALFOY
You dragged me out.
PANSY PARKINSON (unfazed)
Yes, well, I needed help picking out this stupid present - why do people even throw baby showers? And you owe me.
Draco also looks at the various plush and baby accessories, though he didn’t seem interested in the least.
DRACO MALFOY
Owe you for what? I’m the one always saving your arse.
She looks at him dead in the eyes. Or look up, considering their height difference. It still has the same effect.
He frowns at her.
DRACO MALFOY (CONTINUED)
What?
She throws her hands in the air in exasperation.
PANSY PARKINSON (in a sing-songy voice)
Harry.
He shuts down at that, looking away, back at the shelf. She doesn't stop staring.
PANSY PARKINSON (CONTINUED)
He’s been bugging me.
DRACO MALFOY
Huh-uh.
PANSY PARKINSON
He’s been asking about you.
He nods vaguely, holding up a plushie, a little teddy bear, as if interested.
She snatches it out of his hands, leaning forward.
PANSY PARKINSON (lower voice)
I’ve been telling him you just needed time. I’ve been meddling. You know how I hate to meddle.
He winces slightly, still not looking at her.
DRACO MALFOY (under his breath)
You love meddling.
PANSY PARKINSON
That’s not the bloody point!
She waves around the plushie. Other patrons look at them judgmentally. She doesn’t care.
PANSY PARKINSON
I’ve been playing relationship therapist to a bloody Gryffindor, Draco. All because I care about you, you moronic twat!
And when he just stands there, stubborn, she hits him with the plushie. He whips his head around, looking offended. He tries to grab her wrist to stop her.
DRACO MALFOY
You -
PANSY PARKINSON
Have I been lying to him, Draco?
He manages to snatch the plush back. She doesn’t falter.
He holds the soft toy tight.
DRACO MALFOY
No -
PANSY PARKINSON
Are you breaking up with him?
Draco takes a deep, unsteady breath. He shifts his jaw and looks down at the plush. His nails were digging into its soft body.
DRACO MALFOY (quietly)
Of course not.
Pansy softens a little.
PANSY PARKINSON
What even happened, Draco?
As the silence drags, thickens, she reaches between them, booping his nose, making him look up.
PANSY PARKINSON (teasing)
Another one of your stupid decisions?
He manages to huff a laugh, a small one. His hold on the plush softenes. Just once, he pets its little head before stopping himself.
DRACO MALFOY
Something like that.
She looks at him sceptically. He looks uncomfortable, a bit too vulnerable around the edges.
She grabs the first toy she sees.
PANSY PARKINSON
Come on, let’s get ice cream.
She bounces off toward the cashier, and he shakes his head. He puts down the plush with care and follows.
FADES TO:
INT. DRACO’S FLAT - NIGHT - FLASHBACK
DRACO MALFOY (whispering)
What?
He’s in his bed, Harry laying next to him, looking nervous.
But Draco feels like he’s just been punched.
DRACO MALFOY (CONTINUED)
They did - what?
HARRY POTTER
It wasn’t so bad.
But Harry’s voice is shaky, cracking.
DRACO MALFOY
But, Harry - that’s - it’s - a fucking cupboard, Harry?
His green eyes look at Draco. All stubborn and courageous, but barely hiding the vulnerability.
HARRY POTTER
It’s fine.
DRACO MALFOY
Harry -
HARRY POTTER
I have you now.
And it took Draco’s breath away. Harry shuffles closer, cuddling against Draco's chest, closing his eyes. Draco didn’t move.
In the moonlight, Draco’s fingers were trembling. He tries to wrap his arms around Harry. But he can’t.
He lets them fall, looking up at the ceiling.
CUT TO:
INT. DRACO’S FLAT - DAY
There’s the answering machine again. A BEEP.
HARRY POTTER (OFF-SCREEN)
Hey, um - hey. Hi, Draco…
(shaky, shallow breath)
Can we talk? Just - please? Please, Draco? I’m really - just so sorry. I sent you flowers. I know you -
(swallowing hard)
You like that. Right? Please?
The line stays silent for a bit, only sniffles and small breaths escaping. Then it goes dead.
Draco is sitting on a chair, at the table, face in his hands. The flowers are next to him. And the letters, all crumbled.
He’s not crying. Just still.
The flowers are white tulips, tied into a nice bouquet.
Once he finally lets his hands drop, his face is cracked open.
He looks down at his palms. They were soft and pale. Yet, under his sleeve, a tiny hint of black peeks out. The Dark Mark.
His fingers pull the sleeve over it, and he shifts his jaw.
The flowers are beautiful, soft in the sunset.
Draco reaches toward them, trembling. He barely grazes the soft petals, caressing with the very tip of his fingers. But onto that pure white, from his hands, black ink drips down, tainting it, tainting Harry’s words on the parchment beneath. Tainting everything.
He snatches his hand back, gasping. When he looks again, there’s no black.
He puts his face back in his hands.
CUT TO:
EXT. FRONT DOOR - DAY
DRACO MALFOY (under his breath)
I hate you, I hate you, I hate -
PANSY PARKINSON (in a sing-songy voice)
Almost done.
With her tongue peeking out, she adjusts his hair with precision, completely ignoring his complaint. Under her arm, there’s a gift wrapped in blue paper.
Draco looks terrible. Normally so neat, his clothes looked messy and quickly thrown on.
DRACO MALFOY
I will kill you one da-
The door opens. We see a grinning Ron, who’s smile quickly falters at the sight of the two Slytherins. Draco straightens, slapping Pansy’s hand away from his hair.
RON WEASLEY
Er…
But then, a bustling Hermione pushes Ron to the side. She’s clearly pregnant. She squeaks and wraps her arms around Pansy.
HERMIONE GRANGER
Ah! Thank you for coming, come on in!
She also falters slightly when she notices Draco by Pansy's side, though she manages to recover quickly.
Draco sighs.
His hands were fists by his side. He moves stiffly, slowly inside.
INT. WEASLEY-GRANGER HOUSE - DAY
It’s all jovial and loud. Familiar voices are laughing and chatting. Yet, Draco feels so out of place.
Ron Weasley (to Hermione, failing to be subtle)
She brought Malfoy?
Pansy tugs him forward and he follows, chin high.
And then, in the sea of known faces, his gaze immediately finds Harry.
Pansy holds his arm tighter.
He looks down, eyes wide.
PANSY PARKINSON
Let’s get a drink.
Everything feels out of place. Draco hears his breaths loud in his ears. He doesn’t feel his steps.
He feels Pansy push a drink in his hand, but it’s shaking, the ice cup clinking against the glass.
DRACO MALFOY (whispering)
I can’t do this, I can’t - do this -
PANSY PARKINSON
It’ll be fine, Draco -
He sets the glass down harshly. He looks panicked, terrified.
DRACO MALFOY
No, Pansy! No, it won’t be fine. I…I can’t - I can’t…
And then, there’s Harry at the door of the kitchen. His loving green eyes, and hurt puppy demeanor, and Draco is running out of air.
He looks back at Pansy, mustering anger.
DRACO MALFOY (hissing whisper)
You said he wouldn’t be here. You promised.
PANSY PARKINSON
Draco, come on -
He can't breath, can't think. He steps away, running a hand through his hair desperately.
It taints black from his fingers. He’s dripping everywhere.
DRACO MALFOY
I - can’t.
And he walks out of the back door.
CUT TO:
EXT. MALFOY MANOR - DAY - FLASHBACK
There’s a little Draco with a large hat, sheltering him from the sun. He’s crouching in front of a flower bed.
YOUNG DRACO MALFOY
Mother, what are these?
He points to them with his small finger. Narcissa is wearing a long summer dress, with gardening gloves. She was crouching beside him.
NARCISSA MALFOY
Tulipa gesneriana, dragon.
He frowns, confused but trying.
YOUNG DRACO MALFOY
Tuli…pa gesss…
He trails off, having forgotten the rest. Narcissa laughs gently, patting his cheeks. He smiles, proud of making her happy.
NARCISSA MALFOY
Or tulips. White tulips, in this case.
Draco nods, taking in the information with a lot of seriousness. He reaches for one of the flowers. But his hands are clumsy, and a bit too rough, and he manages to cut the flower. To hurt it.
He gasps, his face falling, tears immediately filling his eyes. He holds the leftover of the flower to his chest, crushing it further, and looking up at his mother with panicked eyes.
But her face stays soft.
YOUNG DRACO MALFOY
M’sorry, I didn’t mean to!
He tries to plant it again desperately, his small hands getting dirty with wet soil.
But then, Narcissa scoops him up, looking around carefully. She puts him in her lap.
NARCISSA MALFOY (whispering, leaning close)
It’s okay, darling.
She brushes his hair back. He tries to wipe his tears, smearing dirt on his face.
YOUNG DRACO MALFOY (whispering back)
I hurt the flower…the tulip, Mother.
NARCISSA MALFOY
I know, but it’s okay. You didn’t mean to.
He looks up at her, eyes full of hope.
NARCISSA MALFOY (indulgent)
Do you want me to show you how to not hurt flowers?
He nods and gets off her lap eagerly, smearing more dirt on her pretty sundress.
She laughs once more at his quick change in demeanor.
CUT TO:
EXT. WEASLEY-GRANGER’S BACK GARDEN: BEHIND A SHED - DAY
The garden is still. The sunlight of this summer day shines onto everything.
Everything but Draco, hidden in the shadow of the shed.
He’s sitting on the ground, calmer now, but still clearly distraught.
HARRY POTTER
There you are.
Draco doesn’t look up. Or really reacts. He’s tired.
Harry sits beside him, fidgeting with his sleeve. He looks tired too. He shifts in place, biting his lips, glancing at Draco, opening his mouth.
DRACO MALFOY (voice rough)
Don’t you dare apologize again.
Harry closes his mouth again, looking down.
They sit in silence. There’s the muffle sound of the party, but it's faint. There’s the wind.
Draco fists are tight, digging into his own palm. He stares at them.
And then, the quiet, so quiet sound of Harry crying.
Draco’s breath hitch. He tenses. He can’t breathe. His eyes are wide with fear, with panic. He looks like he’s about to jump away.
But he closes his eyes instead. He takes a deep breath. He relaxes his hands. He finally looks at Harry.
The man is trying to disappear, folding onto himself, and something in Draco breaks wide open.
His trembling hand reaches, hesitates. It lingers in the air between them.
He rests it on Harry’s shoulder.
DRACO MALFOY (whispering)
I’m sorry, Harry.
Harry shakes his head, as if to disagree, but Draco won’t hear it. He focuses, wrapping his arms around Harry.
Not too tight. He smooths his fingers, he rubs Harry’s back.
He feels the black ink leak from his palms onto Harry, but he ignores it.
DRACO MALFOY
I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you.
Harry melts against him, his sniffling quiet.
HARRY POTTER (mumbling)
I know.
He feels Harry’s arms wrap around his back. And Draco is still tense, but manages to snuggle closer.
HARRY POTTER
Just never do that again, okay?
Draco frowns, his jaw clenching.
DRACO MALFOY
I ca-
HARRY POTTER
Don’t push me away.
He leans back, looking into Draco’s eyes.
HARRY POTTER (CONTINUED)
Just don’t push me away.
Draco nods.
DRACO MALFOY
Okay.
Harry, being Harry, smiles at that. A small thing on his tearful face, but still present
HARRY POTTER
Yeah?
Draco manages to smile back.
DRACO MALFOY
Yeah.
FADES TO:
INT. DRACO’S FLAT - DAY
Draco is preparing the tulips, his fingers gentle.
He takes care to not be too rough. He takes the bow off. He takes a vase, checking the temperature of the water before filling it.
The sun filters in, but it’s grey out. The light is soft.
As he fusses over them, slipping the flowers into the vase, Harry walks in.
HARRY POTTER
What’s this?
Draco turns around. Harry is holding the small plushie, a little teddy bear.
DRACO MALFOY (fake-haughtily)
I’m trying to buy your forgiveness, obviously.
But Harry looks transfixed. He holds the plush gently, up to his chest.
And it hurts, and Draco can’t breathe. But he smiles at Harry.
He manages to step forward, petting Harry’s head, brushing his hair back.
HARRY POTTER (softly)
Thank you.
DRACO MALFOY (just as quietly)
Of course, darling.
THE END