Harry stared into the mirror as he dried his messy hair. He scowled at his pale face and the thin scar on his forehead. He hated the scar. It symbolized the night his parents died and it was ugly. Or at least that's what everyone kept telling him. He'd effectively destroyed the dark wizard that had killed his parents, even though he didn't even remember anything about the night. Dumbledore had told him something about his parent's love for him. He hated thinking about it, but every time he looked in the mirror, he did.
"Potter!" Malfoy's voice caused him to jump out of his skin (and thankfully, his thoughts), "Why are you just gawking at yourself?"
Harry turned his head to look at Malfoy, who'd just opened the door.
"Sorry, I was just thinking," Harry answered.
He rubbed his hair some more with the towel, finishing drying it. He looked around briefly, unsure of where to put the towel now that he was done with it.
"Just throw it on the floor," Malfoy instructed, "The maids come in and take them while I'm out. You can leave your clothes as well. They clean them and return them, so don't worry about it."
"Ok," Harry replied.
He paused a moment before gently laying the towel next to his clothes. Malfoy snorted behind him and he twirled around to glare at him. Malfoy rolled his eyes and ducked out of the bathroom.
"Hurry up, dum-dum," Malfoy called, "I have things to do and I don't trust you in my room alone!"
Harry rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at the doorway. For god's sake, Harry, you're 17. Don't act like a child! You shouldn't succumb to his level, he scolded himself. He sighed and headed out the door to find his shoes. He spotted them near his trunk and grinned. Wait a minute! Those are mine! They actually bought those for me! I do have something that was mine first, he reminded himself cheerfully. He pulled them on and tied the laces, grinning broadly the entire time.
"Why are you so happy?" Malfoy's voice questioned from somewhere nearby.
Harry looked up to see that Malfoy stood in in front of him, looking down at him with a frown.
"Because these shoes aren't second hand," he said brightly, "These are all mine!"
"I don't understand," Malfoy said confusion clear in his voice and face.
"All the clothes I own once belonged to someone else," Harry explained, "Except these shoes. Aunt Petunia took me out to buy these shoes. They're all mine."
"They never bought you clothes?" Malfoy inquired.
"No, they always gave me Dudley's old clothes," Harry answered as he finished tying his shoe, "And some charity clothes now and then. Except these shoes."
He stood and smiled proudly down at his shoes. He looked up to see Malfoy's eyebrows knitted together. He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes.
"I guess I can't expect you to understand," he muttered, "The only things I've ever got that were all new and just for me, were my school things. So I guess Hogwarts really was more than just school to me."
He realized he was spilling his heart out to Malfoy, of all people and quickly snapped his mouth shut. He blushed and turned away.
"It's ok," Malfoy mumbled, "You can tell me things. We're friends now."
"Yeah, whatever," Harry murmured.
They stood there awkwardly for a moment and then Malfoy spun on his heel and marched to the door.
"Let's go," he threw back over his shoulder, "I'm hungry, Potter, and I am inconsolable when my stomach is empty."
Harry scurried after him, unwilling to deal with an upset Malfoy. Malfoy led him down to the bar area and sat at a table in the corner. Harry noted that there were only two chairs and they were side-by-side, rather close. He tried to ignore the obvious fact that Malfoy had picked a lover's table. He slid into his seat and scooted it away from Malfoy (not that a few centimeter made any difference).
"What can I get ya'll?" a snappy female voice drifted into Harry's distracted mind.
He looked up to see a witch with long, beautiful mahogany colored hair looking at Malfoy expectantly. Malfoy said something to her and she grinned at him. He turned his attention to Harry who stared at him dumbly.
"Harry?" Malfoy's voice called, "Are you ok?"
Harry opened his mouth to respond when suddenly a hand was gripping his thigh. He froze, all thought abandoned. He shook his head, trying to clear away the ringing noise that sounded through it. His mind went fuzzy and he squinted, trying to see. He heard his name, but it was muffled, like he was hearing it through water. Then suddenly everything snapped back into place and he blinked several times.
"Sorry, what?" he asked, breathlessly.
Malfoy frowned a bit, but turned to the waitress instead. His hand retracted with the turn. Harry sighed at the loss, but mentally beat himself up for it.
"Just some eggs and toast for him," Malfoy told the witch, "He's not feeling the greatest, so keep the portions small, please."
Harry watched as the witch smiled sympathetically and turned to leave and Malfoy watching her walk away. He's watching her ass! Fucking twat! Don't watch her ass! That whore. Who the fuck does she think she is?! Wait. Why the hell do I care? Oh my god, it's not like I like him or he likes me! Mother of god, he isn't even gay! Harry's thoughts ran rampant in his head and he felt the beginnings of a headache begin to form. He rubbed at his face, trying to clear the thoughts away.
"Are you ok?" malfoy's voice pulled him from his whirlwind of thoughts.
"Yes, goddammit! I'm fine!" Harry snarled, "Quit fucking asking me like you give a shit!"
"I thought we were friends now!" Malfoy growled back at him, "I'm just trying to be a fucking friend! See if I'm ever nice to you again, you prick!"
Harry sighed heavily, wanting to bawl his eyes out. He suppressed the urge to crumple right there and took a deep breath.
"I'm sorry, Malfoy," he muttered, "I'm just not used to people caring. Especially not you. Thank you for caring. I'm just a little strung out right now. I'll try to chill out."
"It's ok," Malfoy said softly, "You can just talk to me, if you want…and it's Draco."
"What's Draco?" Harry asked in confusion.
"My name, dummy," Malfoy rolled his eyes.
"Oh, right…Draco," Harry tested the name.
He liked the way the unusual name tasted on his tongue and the way his lips moved to form the words. Malfoy-Draco watched him closely. Harry turned to him and smiled.
"I like it," he decided out loud, "And I'm Harry."
"Good job for remembering your own name," Draco answered sarcastically, "I've called you Harry a few times now."
Harry decided he liked Draco saying his name more than he liked saying Draco's name.
"Oh, right," Harry muttered awkwardly.
Suddenly the witch appeared in front of them with two steaming plates of food. She set them down in front of them and flashed them a smile before heading off to wherever she came from. Harry looked down at his plate miserably. The food on it made him want to puke. It looked decent enough, but for some reason the idea of eating turned his stomach. He chose, instead, to watch Draco eat out of the corner of his eye. He sighed heavily, knowing there had to be something wrong with him.
Little note: Hi dears. I'm so tired. The ending of this chapter might be bad, because I'm exhausted. Thanks for reviews and follows and favorites. Not sure if anyone favorited though...anyway. love you all!