2 – Morning After
Harry woke to a delicious smell of strong coffee and toast wafting up from the kitchen. He breathed in deeply, and shuffled out of bed, shivering as his feet hit the cold floorboards. Mmmm… Kreacher must be making me some breakfast…
Still half asleep, Harry made his way down the creaky stairs to the kitchen. And then almost fell on his face.
Hermione was perched on the kitchen table with a cup of tea, chattering away happily as Draco Malfoy puttered about Harry's kitchen.
"Muuurghh…."
The pair looked over at Harry's dishevelled form, and Hermione let out a giggle.
"Quick, Draco, give him coffee, or he'll be like this for the restarry'sHarr of the day." Malfoy did as Hermione said, passing a huge mug of coffee to Harry, who had slumped in a chair. Damnit, I forgot he was here… and damn, he makes good coffee.
"Um… 'Mione? Since when is he 'Draco', and since when do you two get along, and since when do you come over at whatever ungodly hour it is at the moment?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes, and flipped several rashers of bacon into a pan, as Hermione snorted. "It's almost eleven, you lazy bastard. And he is Draco since I decided to call him that. And we get along since he explained to me why on earth he was here in the first place. And I came over because I wanted to know if you could mind Rose for the day, since it's my wedding anniversary, and somehow Ron actually managed to remember."
Harry took a gulp of his coffee. "So, you don't mind Malfoy's staying here for an unknown amount of time? And yeah, I'd love to mind Rosie, I haven't seen her in yonks. But I've got an appointment to keep… d'you reckon you could ask the Twins? I'm really sorry, 'Mione, but I've been booked in for weeks and it's not a place Rose should be."
"That time of the year again? Okay, but I'll ask Molly, not the bloody Twins. Rose plays enough pranks on everyone already. And no, I don't mind that he's here; Draco and I were actually colleagues for a few weeks, before the Ministry pigs took the Manor and Draco was fired from Gringotts." Hermione took a sip of her tea.
"Yes, we were. Also, Potter, how many eggs do you want?"
Blinking, Harry chugged the rest of his coffee. It's gonna be a while before I'm used to him being civil…
"Erm… just three, I think. Not very hungry. Hermione, since you're already here, d'you wanna stay for brekkie?"
"I can't, Harry, Draco, I'm sorry. Ron's promised me something 'big', apparently. Fingers crossed I get some, eh?"
Harry nodded, standing up creakily as his joints protested, grimacing at the mental images she had conjured. "Ew, Herm. So did not need or want to picture that this early. Or ever." He stretched, then gave Hermione a hug goodbye.
Hermione just leered at Harry, giggled, then left by the Floo, shooting a goodbye to Malfoy.
Malfoy raised his brows at Harry, who still seemed pretty out of it. "More coffee?" he said as he dished up a huge plate of eggs, bacon and toast. The brunette stared at the plate, his mouth watering.
"Please. Blimey, Malfoy, this looks great!" And with that, he started wolfing down his food like a starving man. Malfoy looked at him from an opposite chair, lips twitching slightly in amusement as he sipped his Earl Grey and shredded his toast.
"Someone's hungry. You're acting like you've not eaten in months."
Harry grinned, looking up at Malfoy, fork poised over some egg, "Nah, I just like food. Didn't get fed much when I was a kid. And you know, you actually look like you've not eaten in months. How long has it been since you had a square meal, anyway? Apart from last night's stew."
Malfoy pursed his lips, unconsciously counting on his fingers. "Well… Mother passed on three months ago… and then it took the Ministry bastards half a month to get all their paperwork and shit so they could seize the Manor… and then I stayed at a Muggle homeless shelter for another two weeks… but I had to move on after that… so I've been wandering a lot… so, I think it has been about two months. Give or take."
Harry paused, a forkful of bacon halfway to his mouth. "Are you telling me you've been homeless and starving for two months?" Bloody hell, no wonder he looks like a starved sewer rat. A rather good-looking sewer rat, though… wait, what?
The tips of Malfoy's ears turned pink, and he looked down at his nearly untouched breakfast. "Yes."
"And so you aren't eating this admittedly wonderful breakfast, becaaaauuuse?"
"I – I feel ill, actually. But I am glad you find the food to your satisfaction."
Harry pulled a face. "You didn't need to make breakfast. Why didn't you tell me any of this last night? Where do you feel ill?" He got up and walked around the large oak table to Malfoy's side, looking at him intently. He pressed a palm against the pale forehead, and jumped slightly. "Merlin, Malfoy, you're burning up!"
Said blonde looked up at Harry from under his fringe. "Am I?" Harry nodded in the affirmative.
"You really should work on those communication skills of yours. Now, I suggest you get to bed. I'll get Kreacher to find you a new set of pyjamas and bring you some chamomile tea. Okay?"
Malfoy nodded and started to make his way shakily over to the stairs, only to stumble five up. Harry, who had been watching from the archway to the kitchen, leapt after him, and held his elbow with a steady hand. "You, sir, need sleep. Lots of sleep. Come on, now." And with that, he led Malfoy up to the third floor, to the blue spare bedroom. "I see Kreacher has already found those pyjamas. Just get some rest, yeah? I've got to go out for a few hours, I have an appointment, but you can holler for Kreacher if you need something." Malfoy just nodded silently, and Harry left as he grabbed the pyjamas.
Five hours later, Harry arrived home, in a fair bit of pain, and needing a shower. Remembering his ill guest, he slowly padded up the flights of stairs, knocking at Malfoy's door. "Malfoy? You awake?"
There was movement of the mattress, and Malfoy opened the door sleepily. "You're back then, Potter. It's almost dinner time."
Harry nodded, wincing slightly as he crossed his arms. "Yeah, you hungry? Thought I might give Kreacher a break tonight and cook myself, what d'you say?"
"I would love some food, actually. Would you like me to help prepare it?" Harry shook his head.
"No, Malfoy. You still need to rest. Besides, I'm making chicken soup, which I could do in my sleep. I'll give you a yell when it's done." Harry turned and started down the stairs stiffly.
"Potter?" Harry turned back, raising his eyebrows.
"Yeah?"
"Why are you wincing?"
Harry grinned, "Ah. I was wondering if you'd ask. I got a new tattoo, actually." And he kept right on down the stairs.
"Oy, Malfoy! Dinner's ready!" Harry called up the stairs. He sat at the kitchen table in front of a steaming bowl of soup, in front of which was a line of potions in varying colour. Malfoy padded tiredly downstairs, still looking sickly and thin, but the bags under his eyes had lessened.
"Dig in, then," Harry said, gesturing to the other bowl of soup, and the large basket of crusty bread. He downed the vials of potion, grimacing. Malfoy watched interestedly as he blew gently on the soup.
"What are the potions, Potter?"
"Potion for the pain, one to stop any swelling, and another to prevent infection. Is the soup good?" Harry sipped a glass of water, smiling when Malfoy nodded. "Good. Chicken soup's good for the soul, or so I've been told."
Malfoy just raised a brow, and continued sipping the broth. Harry joined him, and the men finished their meal in silence, bar the slurping noises Harry made. Much to Malfoy's disgust, of course. Eventually, the plates were dumped in the sink, and Harry flicked his wand so they started washing themselves.
"I love magic," he said happily as tea towel dried the last of them.
"Indeed… say, Potter, do you have a television?"
Harry nodded, looking slightly surprised at the question. "Yeah, just through there. Erm… why?" Malfoy just smiled slightly, and made his way into the loungeroom that joined onto the kitchen.
"If my calculations are correct, the new season of Sex and the City should be starting tonight. Where's the remote?" Harry blinked, summoning the remote control and tossing it to Malfoy.
"Malfoy, has anyone ever told you that you're camper than a row of tents?" The blonde just rolled his eyes, settling himself into an armchair and flicking the TV on. Harry smirked, and sat across from him. "Bloody ponce. By the way, have Carrie and Mr Big gotten together yet?"
Malfoy whipped his head around to face Harry so fast his neck popped. "Oh. My. Gods. You watch Sex and the City? And I'm the ponce?"
Harry roared with laughter. "Not quite, Malfoy. Rose always comes over to watch it, cause my TV's bigger than the one at her place. So I'm forced to watch with her, of course. Godfatherly duties and all that," he said, summoning a beer from the kitchen. "You, on the other hand, have no excuse. Also, I must apologise – I'm fresh out of fruity cocktails."
Malfoy just glared at Harry before turning his attention back to the TV. Harry cracked the beer and hooked his legs over the arms of his chair, grinning as the opening credits of the show started. I never said it wasn't a good show, though…
Draco yawned as the end credits started rolling on his TV show, closing his eyes and snuggling against the seat. Harry was already asleep, forgotten beer abandoned to the coffee table, after he had chucked a small fit after having to witness "Ohmygod, ew, hetero sex. Ew, ew, ohmygod," as he had said, much to Malfoy's amusement.
Well, here was as good a place to sleep as any, he decided, lulled by the occasional breaking log in the hearth, and Harry's gentle snoring.
