You grip your hands around my throat,

You strip the buttons off my coat.

I choose the methods I do best,

Thump, thump; the thumping in your chest.

Chapter 14

When Harry landed in Malfoy's fireplace, he expected the house to be mostly empty. He coughed some of the soot out of his lungs and brushed off more clouds from his person as he stepped out, into the living room. When his eyes focused, he adjusted his glasses and found Whim planted on one of the armchairs. He jumped to his big, floppy feet and trotted to Harry,

"Mister Potter! A pleasure to see you, sir!"

"Yes, thank you, Whim… is Malfoy here?"

"Master Draco is entertaining a guest on the west porch. Would you like Whim to inquire an audience with him?"

"Oh," Harry started, "No, but, uhm, who is his guest?"

"Miss Parkinson is here for a visit. Whim has not seen Miss Parkinson for a very long time. Would you like Whim to make Master Draco aware that you are here?"

"No, no, that's okay – uhm, but I would like a glass of water if I could – "

"Of course!" Whim interrupted.

The elf took Harry's hand and led him into the kitchen. As the elf climbed onto the kitchen counter to get a glass, Harry wandered off to a window on the far left end of the kitchen. He could see the porch, stretching out onto a vast and colorful lawn. He saw Draco, then. He saw the blonde hair shimmering in the afternoon sunlight, he saw Pansy sitting across from him at a glass, round table. They had a pitcher of what looked like ice-cold tea, there were flowers everywhere and Pansy was wearing a flattering, pastel colored dress. Her hair was so dark and her hairstyle was so sharp; her face was sharp too, but it had lost much color and she looked much more like a ghost than a girl. Draco looked aloof, not smiling, but looking welcoming. Harry found himself feeling something almost like jealousy. He concluded that there was simply no way he was jealous – and of whom would he be jealous? Perhaps he was being reminded of the lack of peace there was between he and Ginny; peace that seemed to emanate from Pansy and Draco.

Pansy said something and Draco gave a half-hearted chuckle, he flicked some blonde hair from his forehead and turned his face briefly. He looked to the tall kitchen window and met Harry's eyes. In that split second, Harry's heart jumped. Draco made no expression that he had acknowledged Harry and went on talking to Pansy. Some kind of frustration worked its way into Harry's head. He was certain Draco had seen him – the least he could have done was give a wave or a nod. Perhaps Draco Malfoy was just too high on his social pedestal to give Harry any acknowledgement. He certainly was not feeling jealousy; he felt rejected. He shook his head of the thought, but looked to Whim, who was now handing him his glass of water.

"Whim, don't you want him to free you? Don't you think it's awful to work for such a git night and day?"

The elf looked confused for a moment.

"Whim does not understand. Whim has been free for a long time,"

Harry froze and asked, "What?"

"Oh, yes. When Master Draco's parents were taken into custody, he freed all of the house elves. Master Draco never truly understood we worked against our will; he thought of us all as nannies, since he knew us all from birth. Once his parents were gone, Master Draco gave us all our own clothes,"

"Well," Harry began, "then why have you only been in rags since I've seen you? And why are you all still here?"

"Master Draco did not want anyone to know he had freed us, if we insisted on staying. We only wear our clothes when there are no visitors,"

"Why did you insist on staying?" Harry wondered.

"Because, Mister Potter, we all love Master Draco," Whim answered simply.

Harry stared at the elf in amazement, while he went on,

"Master Draco was always kind to us. Always polite. He always asked for things – he never gave orders. We have known him since infancy. Whim was even there at Master Draco's birth!" He exclaimed.

Harry gave a little laugh; mostly out of shock. He looked out the window again, as if he would not recognize Draco if he saw him again. No one was on the porch, though. Harry felt a slight panic, and then both heard the front doors close. Harry found himself strangely paralyzed, until Draco walked into the kitchen. He dismissed Whim with a single glance and then the room stood still and quiet.

"Pay for your dinner, take you on a romantic midnight carriage ride and I don't even get a letter?" The blonde joked.

Harry gave him a guilty smile and his chest relaxed.

"Sorry, I've been a bit busy, but I came by as soon as I could… why was Pansy Parkinson here?"

Draco cocked a brow, "A life-long friend of mine; she's just lost her parents and she's quite useless on her own,"

"Is she your girlfriend?"

Harry and Draco both acknowledged the bizarre strain that was on Harry's voice when it echoed in the room. It had sounded as if the words struggled to climb up from Harry's throat; he found himself embarrassed.

"Not exactly your business, Potter. Not to mention that it is a fairly major conclusion to jump to. I am capable of having women over my house while not bedding them,"

Harry looked to the floor, unsure of what to say. He felt as if he had crossed a line. He was on a downward roll, and he wanted to stop, but he couldn't. The past week, he had thought of nothing but blonde hair and silver eyes and pale skin and playful flirting. Harry cringed when he had realized that Draco flirted with him; it was just unnatural. He couldn't tell if Draco was making fun of him in his own pretty-boy head, or if it was his bratty way of being friendly.

"Why don't you ever talk about your life?"

Malfoy seemed stunned. Harry felt power shift to his end of the room, if only very slightly. He watched Draco's lips; they were hesitant, but attempting to form something. Harry's nerves betrayed him and he jumped to fill the silence.

"I mean, I get it if you want your privacy, I just…"

He trailed off into the strained silence. Draco's eyes were confused, a touch lit up too. Very suddenly, Draco's eyes softened and his lips closed. He gave a smile and asked, gently,

"Is it that you'd like to even the grounds? I'm sure it would be nerve-wracking for me, if all my life was written out in the papers, but my very new alliance had not disclosed any information about theirs,"

"No," Harry answered, "No, Malfoy… I guess… I just want to know where we stand,"

"Where we have always stood, Potter,"

Draco was beginning to fantasize about running across the room and slamming Potter's thick skull on the floor. He even considered breaking his nose again. He was putting on his best act of civility. Everything Potter said, it always sounded like a threat to him. He wasn't sure why, but he never cared enough to investigate the cause. He just accepted the fight or flight response his body gave him at every word Potter ungraciously spit at him.

"Right," Harry bit, "Fine. You seem fine by yourself, so – "

"Obviously," Draco interrupted.

There was a very quick quiet before Draco added, "I don't need a babysitter, Potter. I don't want to messy our arrangement. We have been on civil terms lately, I'm sure that could continue if you don't floo to my house unannounced again,"

"That's what this cold shoulder is about?" Potter asked before he knew it was coming out of his mouth.

Malfoy smirked in a knowing way, "What? You were hoping for a second date, Potter?"

Harry blushed and felt irritation growing on the inside of his head like a prickly mold.

"Not exactly, Malfoy. I just thought…"

Harry realized he didn't know how to finish that sentence. Draco finished it for him, though, in a tone Harry had not heard him use since school. He sneered, his eyes narrowed and he practically regurgitated on the words,

"You just thought we'd be friends?"

"Yeah…" Harry admitted, "Yeah… I thought we got along well enough,"

"We got along fine because I bit my tongue and got the opportunity to beat you half to hell," Malfoy retorted bitterly.

Draco's heart was pumping loudly and his blood was stinging like acid.

"Oh," Harry tensed and glared, "Because I'm such an impossible person to be around? I've been nothing but nice to you, Malfoy!"

"Oh, thank you, Saint Potter! For your fucking charity check-up on a fellow orphan! You are impossible to be around!"

"Shut up, Malfoy! I thought there would be less enmity between us!"

"No!" Draco shouted.

Harry noticed, behind Draco, a line of six house elf heads were peaking over each other from beyond a crack in the door. They appeared worried and Harry felt the anger growing in the room.

"No, there will not be less enmity between us, you bloody idiot! I don't like you and you don't like me. That's fine. That's the way it's always been, so I don't see any reason to change! Go back to your filthy mudbloods and give them your fucking charity, seeing as they can't afford to wipe their own asses without you!"

It took Harry about two seconds to lunge at Malfoy and the fists started flying. Harry could barely feel the punches being delivered to his flesh, because the adrenaline masked so much of the pain. He knew he was punching far too hard, that he was not holding back as much as he should have. In the blur of fists and drops of blood, he saw a glimpse of Narcissa's eyes and his body froze. Immediate guilt and shame washed over him and he could not longer move. Malfoy took advantage of that; he kicked Harry away and quickly rose to his feet. His thin wrist reached up to his full lips, now bloody and dripping, to wipe away the color. He glared at Harry again, and growled,

"Get out,"

Harry was paralyzed again, unsure of what to do, but once Draco brandished his wand, Harry sped to the floo and was gone in a puff.

I wanna thank everyone for all the reviews and follows and faves thus far! Thank you so, so, so much! It is all very encouraging and lovely :3