Word Count: 602
~ Chapter 8~
Name three things you and your partner have in common.
Having spent the day lounging around and doing nothing—he wasn't sulking, dammit—Draco pulled out the paper. He was a little tempted to just throw it into the fire and forget all about it, but something was compelling him to see it through.
He looked over at Harry, half lying on the sofa and staring moodily at the fire, and cleared his throat.
Harry seemed confused for a moment before he caught sight of the paper in Draco's hand.
He rolled his eyes, but waved at Draco to go first.
"Uh."
Draco flaked. He had no idea how to put his thoughts into words that wouldn't sound stupid, and he silently cursed himself for not thinking about his answers before he read the question outloud.
Chuckling, Harry shook his head. "Really? You can't think of three things?"
"I… really can't."
"Fine. We have Quidditch in common; we're both seekers and we both love the game. We have treacle tart in common—don't look at me like that, you ponce, I've seen you drooling over it enough times in the Great Hall—and… we both have mothers who'd do anything for their sons."
Draco frowned. "Sap."
"Show me where I'm wrong."
"Fine, fine. Uh. We're both 18, we're both male, and… uh… neither of us graduated Hogwarts."
Harry blinked at him, and then shook his head. "I'm too tired to argue with you over your lame ass answers."
"I'm not wrong."
"You're not," Harry conceded, lying back down. "Doing nothing all day is exhausting, how do people do this?"
Draco snorted. "I don't know. Read?"
"If I read anymore, my brain is going to melt out of my ears."
"Anyone ever tell you that you're a drama queen?"
"Yes."
…
Draco shifted in his seat, checking that Potter was as asleep as he thought he was. He hated that he'd… not lied, per say, but not answered the question as honestly as he could have.
It wasn't that he hadn't wanted to… he'd just… well. Sometimes it was just really hard to say things, especially when he had to say them to someone else.
There was a reason he had to rehearse his floo conversations before he spoke to his mother.
He sighed, looking at Potter again.
"Three things we have in common. I can do this." He twisted his lips. "We both have absentee parents, by choice or death. We were both forced into a war that wasn't ours, while we were far too young for it, and… and we can both see thestrals."
…
The following morning, Harry set a cup of tea in front of Draco and said, "I didn't think of the thestral thing. I didn't realise you could see them too, though… I guess a lot of people can now."
Draco blinked. It took him a moment to realise that Potter was referring to his words from last night, when he'd thought Potter was asleep.
"You were awake."
Harry nodded, smiling sheepishly. "I was going to interrupt you, but… I guess I thought maybe you wanted to say it, even if you didn't really want to say it to me."
Cheeks heating, Draco wrapped his hands around the mug and pulled it a little closer. "Well. At least you know I didn't flake on it completely."
Harry snorted. "Bacon and eggs for breakfast? Or do you want pancakes?"
"How is that even a question? Pancakes are always the answer, you heathen!"
Shrugging, Harry turned back to the stove. "When you're right, you're right. Gimme a question while I'm cooking."