"There. You are all settled in." Hermione said, setting down a large bouquet of flowers near Harry's bed.
Harry sighed. "I suppose so." This bedroom looked like the one at Ron and Hermione's. A double bed, cards from friends, more flowers than your typical funeral. He was too weak to fight her on it.
Just like he hadn't had the strength to argue against this move. Living for a month with Malfoy? What was she thinking? Still, they had put their life on hold for weeks, and he couldn't fight giving them a rest from all that. At least with Malfoy, the manor was big enough they could avoid each other. His team of house elves seemed to welcome him eagerly enough. They were likely used to looking after the whole family here with frequent guests. One month, and he'd be back on his own.
"We'll take you out for lunch in a few days, OK? You can tell us what living with Draco is like." Hermione said softly as she headed out the door.
Harry nodded in agreement, stretching out on the bed. That was another suspicious thing. Why were they all on a friendly first name basis now? Sure, maybe they bonded when Harry was in a coma, but this much?
Moving houses took a lot out of him. It was OK to take a short nap, wasn't it?
Harry snuggled into the soft bed, and was soon drifting off.
...
He awoke later in the day, the room much darker. A shadowy figure was there, and Harry realized it was Malfoy.
'Lumos.' Harry said, with a flick of his wand.
The room brightened, and Malfoy blinked down at Harry. "Oh, you are awake."
His surprised expression made Harry chuckle a little. "It seems so. What are you doing in my room?"
Malfoy shrugged. "Um...just making sure you are comfortable." He pulled out his wand and mumbled "Evanesco." The flower bouquets disappeared.
"Hey! Those were my flowers!" Harry was more amused than mad.
Malfoy shuddered. "Horrid things."
"Flowers? You seem to have a lot in your garden."
The taller man looked down his nose at Harry, the expression reminding him so much of their Hogwarts days. "Bouquets, especially around recovering people. Who wants to watch something beautiful slowly wither and die?"
Harry couldn't argue with that. "Thanks for letting me stay here, Malfoy."
"Whatever, Potter." It wasn't much of a reply, but all he gave before leaving the bedroom.
...
"Master Potter is asleep now, sir." Tupper reported to Draco a couple hours later.
Nodding, Draco made note of the time on a fresh piece of parchment. "Did he eat much?"
Topper gave him a full description. He had been with the Malfoys for generations.
"Thank you. Would you let me know when he awakes?"
The house elf agreed before leaving Draco to his potions.
An hour later, Draco was closing up his shed and wandered across the lawn. Thick grass below his feet muffled his steps, the only sounds was the wind blowing through the trees and the night insects chirping. The stars glowed bright here compared to in London, bright enough to see his way on the familiar path.
After a quick meal, he headed upstairs. The door to Potter's bedroom was open a tiny crack, to make it easier to check on him.
With a sigh, he crept into the room. He had almost gotten caught last time he tried to do this.
Starlight lit up his guest. Face bare of glasses, messy hair, features slack with sleep. One pillow was about to tumble off the edge of the bed, and Draco replaced it, leaning down to settle it against the headboard.
Looking down, Potter's face was close and he wasn't stirring. Feeling foolish as always, Draco gave his quick kiss, backing away fast in case Potter woke.
"Goodnight, Harry." Draco whispered as he shut the door.
His own bedroom was at the other end of the hall. He had never moved into the master suite, preferring the large room that overlooked the garden.
Stripping, he headed into the shower, making it good and hot. His shoulders ached from using the mortar and pestle to hand grind some herbs to a fine consistency. Many ingredients in potions had to be processed by hand, instead of by magic.
As the hot water poured over him, he thought about the man sleeping down the hall. A month, just the two of them, in this empty house. His teenage self would have loved this.
That started a flood of old, repressed fantasies. How many times had he thought about pulling Harry into a deserted washroom at Hogwarts, standing together naked in the showers?
He realized his hand had drifted lower, and didn't stop the images playing out in his mind. Simply updating them to be Harry as he was now, not the school version.
Towards the end, his mind flashed back to how Harry had looked minutes earlier. What if he woke up during one of these goodnight kisses? What if his hand buried itself in Draco's hair, pulling him in to deepen the kiss, kissing him back eagerly? The thought of that sent Draco over the edge.
Chuckling to himself when he dried off, Draco could not help but feel amused at the path his fantasies had taken. Kisses and hair tugging? What was next? Back rubs and handholding? He needed to get out more, even if it was to some muggle bars, just for some male company for a night.
...
The next few days went similarly, with Potter only awake a few hours. The house elves reported back to Draco, so he knew he was eating well and energetic enough to explore the house and the garden. Draco only saw him when he was asleep an hour or more, not wanting to risk getting caught. He couldn't deny that it seemed to be working. Potter was getting better, staying awake a little longer each day.
The downside of this was that Potter was getting bored. He was a man of action, so the library and piano didn't entertain him long.
Draco saw him more often exploring the garden near his shed, close to his special herbs and flowers.
With a sigh, he headed out into the sun. "How are you feeling, Potter?"
The recovering man spun around, looking at Draco through his glasses. It felt a bit strange, after seeing him so many nights without them. His bright eyes narrowed at the query. "I'm fine."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't be so suspicious. It's just a simple question."
"Where did you come from?"
"Well, Potter, when a lady and a man like each other very much, they do a special type of hug. My parents did this and nine months later I was born." Draco smirked happily.
Potter just shook his head in exasperation. "No, I meant where were you before talking to me?"
"My shed." Draco admitted, not seeing the point of keeping it secret.
"Why do you need a shed when you have a massive house to yourself?" Potter asked, looking at the simple one story structure.
It was a fair question. "I respect the manor and it's history. It's not really a good place to process stinkweed in though."
Potter chuckled, his small grin making Draco's breath catch a little.
"Speaking of which, can you help me harvest some?" Draco asked quickly, pointing towards the tall bunch in the garden.
Potter shook his head. "As tempting as that sounds, I'll pass."
"Suit yourself." Draco took his clippers out, tying off bundles of the plant before cutting the stems below the tie.
Potter watched, edging slightly closer. "Oh, that doesn't look too hard."
Draco scoffed. "You are here to get well. I'd hardly have you overexert yourself."
"Believe me, Malfoy, I want to get out of your hair as soon as possible."
The words almost made Draco cut the plant in the wrong spot, his mind flashing back to the fantasies he had last night.
Passing the clippers to Potter, he quickly told him where to cut the plants. They worked quietly together, quickly trimming the whole patch down.
Potter made the bundles into a neat pile. "What do you do with them now?"
"Eventually I use them in cold medicines and skin creams. It's a common ingredient." Draco picked up half the pile, and headed into the shed.
Potter picked up the rest, following Draco inside. At the drying rack, they again worked together to hang the bundles upside down.
Draco liked the help and the company, but felt exposed having Potter in his very private workspace. Even the house elves rarely came in here, only standing at the doorway to deliver messages. He even cleaned it himself, not wanting anything to disturb his work.
"You make a living doing this?" Potter asked, his eyes scanning over the rows of small bottles in the shelves.
Giving a little shrug, Draco was glad the shed wasn't brightly lit. "My parents are rich, but my inheritance is the house and a small trust fund that mostly goes to its maintenance. I need to work to have clothes and eat."
"And you don't exactly go for the cheap food or clothes." Potter teased. "Would you ever consider selling the house? Do you plan to marry and raise a family here?"
"Well, seeing how I'm gay, that's not very likely. Everyone has encouraged me to sell, but I'm still here." Draco found himself answering, being surprisingly honest.
Potter nodded, almost to himself. "And I keep Grimmauld Place, even though it's in terrible shape."
Draco suddenly felt it, a feeling he hadn't thought about before. Loneliness. With his parents living abroad, he really was like Potter. An only child, virtually parentless, without a family. They both had loyal friends, but in many ways they were on their own.
"You know that house belonged to my mother's side of the family? The Blacks." Draco commented.
Potter nodded. "There's a family tree in one of the rooms. You are on it. Sirius and Andromeda are burnt off."
"You seem closer to my extended family than I am." Draco said dryly.
"I spend time with Andromeda and Teddy often. You could come next time. She's your aunt, after all." Potter said, watching Draco closely.
He knew it was a test. Would Draco stand behind the pureblood values, and continue to shun a relative who had married a muggle-born wizard? Or had Draco moved past all that now?
Completing the hanging of the stinkweed, Draco cast a quick cleaning spell over their hands to remove the slight odor. "Perhaps I will."
...
Potter was staying awake up to seven hours by the second week. His energy was better as well.
It was a little surprising when Potter arrived in the dining room for supper the first time. Draco tended to eat a little late, around 7 pm, wanting to get most of his work done with natural light.
Potter hovered near the doorway. "Mino mentioned you were eating now, and suggested I come down."
"Bullshit. You are sick of eating your meals in bed like an invalid, and insisted he tell you when I eat." Draco corrected with a smirk. He didn't even need the house elves to report that to him. He knew Potter that well. The company was strangely welcome. "Well, sit down. Mino will fetch you a plate and everything."
Potter didn't argue with Draco's assessment, and strolled over to the long dining room table. Instead of sitting at the opposite end, he took the seat on Draco's left side.
"You are supposed to sit at the other end." Draco waved an imperious hand that direction, like shooing a fly away.
The Auror simply shrugged at the statement. "Ridiculous. How are we supposed to talk sitting like that?"
Draco watched as the house elves set a place for Potter, and soon had a hot meal in front of him. It was strange sitting with someone after being alone so long. When his parents were here, they sat at the opposite ends, with Draco in the middle on one side. It was ridiculously formal for everyday dining, now that he thought back on it.
"Well, you are sitting so close, you must have many interesting things to discuss with me."
Potter's appetite was good, digging enthusiastically into his roast chicken. Draco hadn't seen him eat since Hogwarts, but his manners were much better now. Using his napkin properly and never talking with his mouth full.
"I just wanted to ask if you had a spare broom around here. If not, I'll ask Ron to bring me one." Potter replied, placing a bare bone back on his plate.
Draco finished his bite of carrots before replying. "Why do you need a broom?"
Potter let out a chuckle. "I'm so bored I thought I'd help the house elves clean this dump."
The sarcastic answer only got a glare from Draco, so Potter held up his hands in a calming gesture. "OK, OK. I am bored, and walking around the grounds has made me think of our school days. All that time practicing on the Quidditch pitch."
"You are too weak, Potter! With my luck, you would fall off the damn thing and kill yourself, and I'd get the blame." Draco could all too easily imagine it. Death Eater kills our Savior!
Taking a long sip of his pumpkin juice, Potter sighed. "I think I know my own limits and I wouldn't go too long at first. I'd work up to longer sessions as I get stronger."
Draco could see how much this meant to Potter, his green eyes earnest. "Fine, with the condition that we go together and you listen to what I say." He feared Hermione the most if something did go wrong. Potter was his responsibility until the month was up.
"Perfect!" Potter's smile was unguarded and wide.
Draco had rarely seen him smile like that, especially at him, and it made him feel a bit strange. Potter was really an attractive man, and it had been far too long since he had been around one.
Luckily Potter didn't notice how quiet Draco got while considering this, happily chatting on about how Draco could show him the whole area around the manor.
...
"We are just doing a short flight today, about fifteen minutes or so. I want to see how tired it makes you afterwards." Draco said sternly, still feeling uneasy about allowing this.
Potter was nodding, obviously willing to agree to any condition to get flying. His enthusiasm was rubbing off on Draco, and by the time they kicked off, he was asking himself why he didn't do this more often.
They flew side by side, Draco pointing out the direction as he kept a close eye on Potter. The man's seat on the broom was stable, his face not showing anything but elation. It was the most alive Draco had seen him since that awful first night.
The Malfoy lands were vast, and bordered with many other wizarding families, so Draco felt safe letting them fly over them. They didn't have to worry about muggles spotting them out here.
They landed back on the Malfoy lawn, and Draco watched Potter for signs of weakness as he dismounted. He was a little tired, but managed fine. "We will keep to that length for the rest of the week."
"We are going again tomorrow? Brilliant." Potter said, carrying his broom into the house.
Warmth spread through Draco as he followed Potter inside. It was a strange thing, the way Potter's happiness made him feel good too. Perhaps it was simply about being a good host, making sure your guests enjoyed themselves. His mother had been excellent at that.
...
-A/N: I've restructured the chapters so there are seven now instead of five, but the story is still about 20K words long.
