Draco didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to think. All his life, he had been instilled the fear of magical creatures, the disgust of everything that was not a pure-blood wizard. And yet...
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And yet. Here he was watching an older man, werewolf and mixed blood in addition! A poor guy almost always dressed in rags. The kind of person who would make his mother fail just by passing the step of their ancestral home. The kind of being who would push his father to deny him if he surprised his son watching him like this.
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Draco knew it. He knew all that. He had convinced himself that the dismissal of Professor Lupin in his third year was proof that his parents were right and that he did not deserve his attention. It didn't stop him from feeling a I-don't know what when he saw him again years later.
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He had met him quite by chance. After the war, his father was sent back to prison and his mother went to live in France so as not to suffer people's eyes. Draco, on the other hand, took the time to finally discover the world as it really was, without the prism of his family's prejudices. This is how he saw the werewolf again in Muggle London.
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Remus pushed a small pram. Alone. Without anyone ever accompanying him on the many walks he took with his baby. By dint of observations, Draco had understood why. The child's mother had died during the war. A mother with Black blood. This fact had reinforced him in his choice to spy on his former teacher. He now had a real excuse to observe him so often: little Teddy.
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However, his gaze was more often lost on the one who pushed the stroller than on the baby. He looked at the tenderness shown by the representative of the race that had been described to him as bloodthirsty. He observed how the wind moved his gray hair in places. He contemplated the many scars on his face and arms while trying to tell himself that it did not give him a wild charm. In short, he devoured the other with his eyes.
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Without Draco knowing it, Remus had spotted his little carousel for a while. It didn't bother him. The smell of the blond had intrigued her at the time and he now knew why. A smell that was tempting but did not make his inner beast want to attack him. Tonks had smelled very similar, probably because their mothers were sisters. But Draco would always have his preference.
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The werewolf waited patiently for the wizard to make the first move. He was waiting for his companion to finally give in to temptation.
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and then Add to home screen.