"Um, Draco," Harry cleared his throat, "Can you hand me my towel, please? Or the briefs that are lying rather close to your foot?"

"And why would I want to do that?" Draco smirked. Harry gulped.

"Because I've been a kind and charitable host and you feel compelled to return the favor by being super helpful today?"

"Hmm, okay," Draco crossed his arms. "I want you to do something for me first, though."

"Like what?" Harry stammered.

"Oh, nothing. Just answer some burning questions of mine," Draco drawled.

Harry took a deep breath and hesitantly made eye contact with him. "Okay." He looked behind himself and found a small ledge on the wall of the shower he could sit on, and crossed his legs so as not to expose himself. "Go on."

Draco took a step closer and looked at him in the eye. "Say my name."

"Excuse me?"

"My name," Draco replied innocently, "What is my full name?"

"I-I don't want to answer to that..."

"Say my name, Potter."

Why was this suddenly embarrassing? "Draco," Harry muttered, then realized he'd said his first name. "I mean, Dingus," he blurted.

Draco cackled. "Was that the most insulting name you could think of?"

"Shut up," Harry said, feeling cross.

"Well, looks like that backfired since you're already used to referring to me by my first name," Draco remarked, and Harry tried his damndest not to stand up and punch him in the face. After a few moments, he stopped chuckling and cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was weirdly deep and sultry. "So, what's my full name?"

Harry didn't like the effect the voice was having on him. He also didn't see a point to Draco using it in the first place. "Um. Draco Malfoy," he mumbled, trying not to go along with whatever mood that Draco was trying to set.

"Say it again, please."

Harry wrinkled his nose. Damm his libido for liking this. Shame, shame, shame! Think unsexy things. Snape in lingerie. Snape dressed as Neville's grandmother. Ron and Umbridge having a clandestine affair.

"It's Draco Mail-fo-ee," Harry replied, mispronouncing it as badly as possible.

"Is it now?" Draco chuckled, sounding amused instead of offended. Fuck. Why did he want to make him chuckle again. This was not working. Fuck.

"Uh, yeah," Harry said quickly. "Okay, now can you give me my towel?" He asked, sounding more desperate than he originally intended to. "I'm gonna catch a cold, you know," he elaborated, when Draco made no move. "As you can see, I'm a very frail man," he motioned to his own body, then stopped himself and blushed as if his face were on fire. The corner of Draco's mouth immediately went up in a telltale smirk. Oh no no no.

"I will, in a minute," Draco replied. "But I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name...?" He asked smugly, knowing exactly what he was doing.

Fucking liar. "Roonil Wazlib," Harry sputtered as quickly as he could.

Draco laughed. "You're lying."

"So are you! You've already heard my name through the grapevine, clearly."

"Please, Potter. I just want a fresh start," Draco smiled at him, and Harry hated how easily he wanted to agree and give in and just trust that face. "Please?" Now his smile was too arrogant. Oh no way. Harry looked down at his feet. "Come on. Scared, Potter?"

Harry looked up. For a moment, he was transported back to Hogwarts. No, not even Hogwarts. They were in Madam Malkin's, and Draco was flashing him that arrogant grin, as if he wanted to impress him, and Harry was not having any of it.

"You know it well enough, Malfoy," Harry replied coldly, then somewhat regretting it. But Draco didn't even flinch. His stupid, smug grin didn't wane. Instead, he softened it and took a few steps closer, forcing Harry to take deeper breaths. By the time they were face to face, Draco was close enough to kiss, if he only leaned a few inches in.

"Do I, Potter?" Draco asked, keeping his eye contact steady. Harry hated it.

"Yes, you do," Harry replied, willing his weak ass to not tremble as he tried to meet him.

"Well then, say it," Draco breathed. A shiver went down Harry's spine, and not because he was cold. Quite on the contrary. His body was heating up beyond what was really normal.

"It's Harry Potter," Harry said back as quickly as he could, mortified and wanting to get it over with.

"Good," Draco breathed back, and Harry couldn't wait for him to stand up straight again and remove his face from his personal space. "So, Harry Potter," Draco drawled, "Why do you hate me?"

Harry sucked in a deep breath.

The more Draco looked at him, the more his stomach felt as if it were plummeting down, faster and faster. His leg shook, and he had to stabilize it with his arm. He could feel water dripping from his hair, and he could feel Draco's gaze on him, not on his body but his face. That was worse. Harry looked down at the tiles, unsure of how to respond. And fuck. He was cornered. There was no way out of this, no wandless magic he could perform against this ghost. Except maybe a fog charm.

But even so, he didn't reach out and summon the thick mist to cover him. Maybe because, deep down, some part of him wanted to have this conversation. The horny part? The no-survival-instinct part? The probably-gonna-flirt-my-way-to-death part? Harry shook his head and took a deep breath, steeling himself. He was no coward. After years and years and several insecurities and complexes, he could still safely say, Harry Potter is no coward.

"I don't hate you."

Once the words left his mouth, he dared himself to look up. It took somewhat less courage than it took to say them.

The Draco he laid his eyes on was not the same Draco before he said them, however. Somehow, his confidence had left him, leaving him looking...weirdly open. His expression looked more confused than arrogant. And he looked as if he had taken a blow he wasn't expecting, almost as if what Harry said was not what he wanted to hear.

What is up with him? Harry found himself asking, just as Draco frowned and opened his mouth to say something.

"I'm not lying," Harry fired back before he could, and Draco closed his mouth in surrender. "I don't...currently...hate you," he grunted, questioning it even as he said it, yet it still didn't feel wrong to say that. "Well, that was in the past, but I did use to. For real."

Draco inhaled deeply. "And your friends...do they hate me for the same reason?"

"Yes."

Draco closed his mouth and took another breath.

He just stood there, breathing in deeply, until he gathered enough breath to ask another question. "What was it?"

Harry opened his mouth then shut it. Well, it wasn't really one thing. He was rude to Ron the first time he met him and made fun of him in front of everyone. He called Hermione a slur. He was part of the Inquisitory Squad that ended the D.A. And so many other things.

"Well," Harry said slowly, "You were a bully. Of sorts." He wrinkled his eyebrow. "I don't mean you weren't a bully. I mean you only bullied a specific kind of people."

Draco looked trouble. "And who were those people?"

Harry looked at him. "It's too complicated to explain," Harry gritted his teeth, "And frankly it's not my responsibility to. If you're just going to go back into your body and go right back to being an arsewipe, I don't see the point in having to teach you everything."

"No, please," Draco said, and for a moment Harry almost believed him. "I want to know."

"What, so you'll have a better chance at getting into my pants?" Harry asked, bitterly.

"No," Draco said a lot more intensely than he expected, "I just...really want to know. I'm sorry to bother you, but I want to know. Please. Please believe me."

Harry snorted. "You tried to betray me, mere seconds after I saved your life," he grumbled. Draco's eyes widened. "That's just how little you cared for the small people."

Draco frowned. "Small people?"

"I don't mean like, dwarves or house elves," Harry rolled his eyes. "But anyone who you were told was below you, you treated like shit. Your house elf was abused for years. You called my friend a horrible word just because she was Muggle-born. You called my other friend low because he didn't have as much money as you. You joined people who were willing to trample powerless, magicless Muggles just because they were convinced they deserved it and just because they had the power to, they should."

Draco didn't look away. Instead, he kept eye contact. But he didn't respond for a few minutes. They just sat together in silence.

A few minutes passed, and Draco looked down at his hands. Harry couldn't take it any longer and let out his breath loudly.

"I'm not gonna repeat all that again," he said crossly. "Again, it's not my job to educate you. So figure it out on your own, okay?"

Draco looked up. "Is there...somewhere I could go to...fix this?" He asked, all of the swagger and smirking gone.

I'm being far too kind to him, Harry gritted his teeth.

"Well, you did already say sorry," he admitted. "But! Apologies aren't all," he added quickly. "You know, your father, he used to be a proponent for Muggle equality," he said suddenly. Draco looked at him, curious but holding himself back from asking a million questions. "I did an internship with the Daily. I ended up digging a bunch of old articles with his name from the archive, and low and behold. Lucius Malfoy said Muggle rights." Harry exhaled. "He was very adept at infiltrating pro-Muggle equality circles. Mastered all the jargon and all that. The magic gap. Anti-Muggle discrimination. I reckon you learned the word "mudblood" from him, but he never spoke it in public. But the instant Voldemort reappeared, can you guess which man started appearing coincidentally at the site of Death Eater raids on innocent villages? Who promoted the genocide of people who couldn't even defend themselves?" Draco looked down shiftily. "Don't you dare look away, Draco."

"I'm not," Draco retorted aggressively, looking at him then regretting it. He took a deep breath again. "Then what can I do?" He asked again, sounded defeated.

"Well, first off, I'd cut contact with any old Death Eaters," Harry retorted. "Your father never quite abandoned his contacts, except for his least significant pawns, and it shows. If you're having a rough time, there's shelters that can rehabilitate former radicalized Death Eaters like you, but it's not my job."

"Obviously," Draco nodded, still penitent but cooperative.

Harry felt more at ease, even though he hated that he was the one who had to have this talk with him. Although...he was starting to shiver a little. It had been a while since he'd finished showering, but by now he was kind of cold.

Draco looked up.

"Here, let me get that towel for you," Draco mumbled, and bent down to pick it up. Inevitably, it slipped through his ghost fingers.

For whatever reason, Harry found a laugh ripping through him and splitting him in two, as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

"Oh, get over yourself, Potter," Draco snapped, sounding more like himself again. Harry cackled madly and bent over, having a hard time breathing. He stood up and tried to walk across and pick it up, but he almost fell again from shaking with laughter.

"Careful!" Draco hissed, barely catching him (ah, that's right, he was the only thing Draco could physically touch, wasn't he?). "You almost hurt yourself!" He said crossly. As Harry put the towel around his shoulders, he noticed Draco could still now touch it. He smirked at him as Draco started to wipe off his chest. Draco turned red and froze, letting go of it. Harry finished drying himself off by himself.

It took only a few minutes of looking around to find his clothes. "They're over there," Draco said, embarrassed, as Harry pretended to still be unable to find them and did a few more sweeps of the room while butt-naked. "And put them on quickly, please. I don't want to keep having to stare at your flat arse any longer than I have to," Draco grunted.

"Oh, so you were looking?" Harry winked, not sorry at all for causing him trouble. He deserved it, after all.

Draco kept his mouth shut, even as Harry bent over to slip on his underwear. "No peeking," Harry added. No response. He did notice, however, that Draco didn't move any further away from him, which didn't offer him a lot of room to put on his jeans in the cramped bathroom. "Oi, gimme some space, do you mind?" He asked, bumping him with his butt once they were on.

Draco yelped loudly and Harry swiveled around, his eyes immediately going down.

"Is that a b-"

"Shut up and leave me alone, prick!" Draco hollered and ran out.

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