AN: Don't think too hard about it and let me have my fun. Hope you have fun too.
The weather was typical that Saturday morning. The pain he felt was typical too. It had become a simple fact to Draco – it hurts to be alive sometimes. Nothing new there.
He heard a chime and fetched his phone from the bedside table. The new message read, "Apologies, we're running only a little late". It used to annoy Draco when people didn't respect his time in this manner. Maybe a decade ago, before he started to just wait around to die.
" Why am I still here? What's the point of waiting?" his brain asked as he numbly scrolled over the previous string of text messages. He reached the top of the window and reread the first text.
"Hello, is this Mr. Lucas? I'm Peter Harrington and I'm messaging you about the roommate ad. Are the rooms still available? My friend and I are interested."
Draco replied with an "alright" before putting the phone back down on the table and went to wash up.
The time for Mr. Harrington's appointment arrived while Draco was eating some cereal for brunch, eyes glued to his phone. His apartment was much smaller than the manor he had grown up in, but the open living plus dining plus kitchen floor plan was comfortable. Too comfortable in fact to move out of and downgrade, which he had needed to do as he was approaching halfway through his family's muggle savings. So instead, Draco had decided to open the extra bedrooms to renters.
" Hi. I'm Drake Lucas. Welcome to- Hello. I'm Drake Lucas, nice to meet you," he rehearsed in his head over and over, having never really socialized with muggles before, despite hiding among them for what now seemed to be half his life. He'd somehow managed to minimize his existence at every workplace he'd been employed at, but the same probably wouldn't be feasible with roommates in his own household.
A new text popped up on his screen, "we're here," and then his doorbell rang, before he could finish deciding what to say. When he opened his front door, he could say nothing as he took in the sight of the man before him: his broad shoulders, dark hair, and an unmistakeable pair of green eyes.
He was Harry Potter. Draco shut his door and stood there blinking for a moment. The phone in his hand chimed again.
"Did we get the wrong address? We're at your door right now?"
What is this? Draco stared at his door. The man outside knocked on it and Draco jumped a little.
"It's alright," he heard Harry Potter say, "please... We've nowhere else to go..."
His brain did its usual thing of reminding him of his own pointlessness, " if he's come here to kill you, then why not? What are we waiting for?"
"Malf-?"
Draco rushed to open his door before he could finish the name. "Don't call me that!" he hissed at Potter, checking around for other people who might overhear. He found Hermione Granger standing next to Potter.
He sighed a little, but decided whatever. "Get inside."
The next Saturday morning was less typical. Up until the last week, nothing had mattered. Nothing had meant anything. Now, Potter and Granger were making breakfast in his kitchen. Everything was already wrong before, but this? Draco hasn't decided. For now it was just weird.
"Oh. How do you like your eggs?" Granger asked him. Draco paused for a moment. "We're not exchanging chores for rent," he told her instead.
She snickered at him. Potter chuckled over his toast, "at least one thing hasn't completely changed."
Draco proceeded to serve himself some cereal and went to sit on his lone couch. He turned on the TV and started browsing the entries. It wasn't long before Granger invited herself to join him.
"Just pick any one," she told him suddenly. Draco ignored her. "What about whatever you're watching right now?" she asked before taking another bite of her omelette.
Draco stopped browsing and put his remote down in front of her. "I just wanted to watch whatever while I eat this. You pick."
Over two hours later, he needed to retrieve his TV remote from Granger. "Noo," she whined.
"I need to work," he told her.
"So?" Potter asked, surprising him. He hadn't noticed when he'd joined them.
"So I want to know what happens next too; get your own TV or something" he informed them both and left.
Later the next week, Draco felt the first minor blow of regret in years. Watching this TV series together with Granger and Potter just suddenly turned very awkward. Presently the main characters are staring into each other's soul and the three grown adults watching them on the screen knew exactly where this was going.
It was Potter who suddenly picked up the remote and pressed fast-forward. "Okay," he said, "we're children now. We don't watch this part."
And so the room let out a breath they didn't know they'd been holding.
It wasn't until the start of the next month that Draco really talked with either of his new roommates. Potter had been at work one weekend afternoon, leaving Granger alone with him. He hadn't been alone with either of them until then. He didn't usually stay cooped up in his bedroom and he wasn't about to start just to avoid potential awkwardness, so now he was having tea with Granger.
"Do you think we could ever go back?" she had asked absentmindedly. Draco looked up from his phone briefly to look at his companion across the kitchen island. She was resting her chin on her hand, looking out the window.
He answered, "no," and went back on his phone.
"How long have you been staying here?" she asked and Draco looked up to see her facing him this time.
He thought for a bit before answering, "I think… eight years now?"
Granger nodded. "Have you seen anyone else?"
Draco stared into his cup of tea. "No."
The first person he thought of was his mother. It had been her betrayal that had led the Dark Lord to his death in the castle and so they saw fit to punish her, first. And then they had come for his father, the newly-branded blood-traitor. Draco didn't know if they ever did find him. They had gotten separated earlier on, and he hadn't dared to go look for him lest he risk getting both of them discovered. So he began his waiting, assimilated into the muggle world to hide until whatever it is he's waiting for arrived – a change, his father, anything. But a year had passed, and then another, and another – perhaps he could stop waiting.
He blinked, catching himself. Granger was looking at him with pity. "You've been just by yourself for eight years…"
"You get used to it," he said simply.
"No, you absolutely need therapy," she sounded genuinely concerned.
He couldn't help but chuckle and then said, "We all need therapy." He regarded her briefly. She looked like she was going to keep at it so, "and I am. In therapy. Everything's fine."
It's true, he was. He just couldn't really discuss the majority of his issues, clearly. He's in hiding from a terrorist group that he used to be a part of that's now a legitimate threat to his life. He has no idea if anyone he ever knew were still alive. Save his two roommates. He could not be himself with another person for fear of being discovered. Save his two roommates.
"Well," Granger was saying now, "honestly, I'm glad to have found you out here."
She gave him a smile. It made Draco fumble a little. He took a sip of his tea to recover.
"And I'm sure Harry's glad too," she finished. He only hummed in reply. He was glad too; he could admit at least that to himself.
Teatime was over and their shared comfortable silence ended with Potter's arrival. "Darling, I'm home!"
"Huh that's new," Granger said, amused. "Welcome home!"