Chapter 2
Harry inhaled deeply as he blinked owlishly, looking at the sunlight streaming in through the dusty windows. The room looked much different in the bright light as opposed to the candle lit gloom of last night. The lights in the room hadn't been working so Ernesto had shown them up and left the candle for light. Now, Harry could easily see the plain whitewashed stucco walls, with the large, dusty windows. Just off from that was another door that led into the bathroom. There was a splintery desk with a chair at the opposite side of the room. He stretched a bit, drawing the blankets wrapped around him taut. The bed frame was unfinished, but it looked sturdy enough. On Harry's side of the bed, was a short night table. There was a lamp on it but, as he learned last night, that too was broken.
He simply lay there, pulling the blankets in closer. He didn't want to look on the other side of the bed. He knew exactly who lay there. He pulled the blankets up more, stubbornly looking at the door, despite his growing curiosity. Ernesto had given them, much to their chagrin, a room with only one bed in it. Harry wouldn't have been surprised if that was their only guest bedroom. And so, as if this ordeal wasn't bad enough, Harry now had to share a bed with Lucius.
Harry wasn't thrilled but decided to make the best of it.
Lucius had decided to sit on the splintery chair, scowling at Harry, and the bed, as if it was somehow Harry's fault.
He found himself in a bit of disbelief. Lucius Malfoy, the ever calm and cool Malfoy, had been sitting in a chair, sulking like a little child who had his toy taken away. If there was such a thing as fate, Harry was finding this event to be something of a mixed blessing. Lucius may have been good looking, but he was a completely insufferable prat. Seeing him reduced to this fruitless rebellion was rather amusing to watch, although he was sure Lucius didn't think the same thing.
Harry took another deep breath, sat up, stuck his arms out from the blankets and looked at the other side of the bed. Lucius had left his robes draped on the chair and had come over to the bed. This obviously had to have been after Harry had fallen asleep. Lucius had placed himself in a rather precarious position on the edge of the bed, somewhat huddled up.
He shrugged and detangled himself from the blankets, letting his feet rest on the floor. His first order of business was to get a shower and then-
"Gah!" Harry yelled at the top of his lungs, flailing when he felt something crawl across his foot suddenly.
"Wha-" Lucius' startled word was cut off by a rather abrupt thud followed by a pained grunt.
Harry scrambled back on the bed, looking at the floor warily, until he spotted it. The small insect with a sinuous shape was scuttling away for the door. He scrambled forward, stamping with his feet.
"Ha!" he crowed triumphantly as he brought his foot down and squished it. Then he froze and lifted his foot up gingerly. "Yuck."
"Are you always this vocal in the morning?!" Lucius snarled before he stormed off to the bathroom and slammed the door shut with a loud bang.
Harry glared at the door before he looked around for something to wipe the buggy remains off his feet with. Definitely not the chair; he already had bug guts on his feet; he didn't need to add splinters to that. He looked around before laying eyes on Lucius' robe. It would definitely serve the prat right. Last night he had been nothing short of a rude ass when Ernesto and Valencia had been nothing but nice to them.
"Let's see how much you like this," Harry muttered, hopping over and wiping the remains off completely on a cuff.
He looked around the room, yanking on his socks. Then he noticed a fresh change of clothes left folded on the table. Two sets; one for him and one for Lucius. Harry grabbed his and changed quickly before he walked downstairs, looking around for their hosts. When he walked into the bright sunny kitchen, he found them seated at the table, a large atlas between Valencia's hands. He smiled in greeting as Valencia smiled and waved him over.
// The both of us, \\ Valencia said gesturing at herself and Ernesto, who was drinking coffee. She opened the book to a page. // We're from here, from Spain. \\ She looked at him and jabbed at the atlas rather imperiously. // We're Spanish. And you and your…friend? \\
Harry nodded his head in thanks as Valencia gave him her seat. He started leafing through the atlas before he came to rest on a page. "Here."
// You and your friend are British? \\ Valencia asked in surprise.
// No, no, \\ Ernesto said suddenly. // They're Scottish. See? \\ Ernesto glanced at the page. // The boy is pointing here, to Scotland. \\
// No, it's here! \\ Valencia said rather forcefully. // England. \\
// Scotland. \\ Ernesto replied.
// England. \\ Valencia rebutted immediately.
// No, it's Scotland. \\
// You idiot, it's England. \\
"You have some nerve Potter."
Harry looked away from Ernesto and Valencia's argument at Lucius' quiet words. He was standing at the table, in black slacks and a white button down shirt, glaring down at Harry as if he wanted to break his neck.
"What are you talking about?" Harry asked with a completely innocent look on his face.
"First, you decide to claim all the blankets," Lucius said in a rather vicious hiss. "Then you deign to leave me a small strip where to sleep on the bed, and now you decide to wipe off whatever that disgusting mess was on my robe. My only robe."
"At least you're being more civil this morning as opposed to last night." Harry said with a bright smile. He got desired reaction of a snarl.
"That's why?" Lucius shot Harry a look, before rubbing his temples. "I think a proper truce is in order this time. Not something like that farce from yesterday."
"I agree. Who knows how long I might be stuck with you," Harry said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Shake on it?" Harry offered his hand.
Lucius glanced at it for a moment before taking it and shaking it. "But don't think for a moment that I wouldn't take the chance to kill you the moment we get out of this…predicament."
"I'd expect no less." Harry said.
They watched the other for a moment, looking for signs of backing down, but neither met it. After a few minutes, Harry glanced down to notice they were still shaking hands. Or rather, now, they were simply holding one another's hand. Harry jerked his away hastily, feeling a slight blush rise to his face. He looked up to see Lucius smirking slightly as he retracted his hand with a glint in his eye.
"Tell me…Harry," Lucius said smoothly.
Harry sat there, wondering just what sort of deprecating question Lucius would ask.
"Just what are our hosts bickering about?"
Harry looked up and tried to not breathe an immense sigh of relief. "About where we're from…I think. I think Ernesto think we're from Scotland, and Valencia thinks we're from England."
"That's it?" Lucius arched an eyebrow, looking at the two who were bickering rather heartily.
"That's it," Harry affirmed, nodding his head. "And it's not as if we can simply tell them were British."
// Aha! \\ Valencia said suddenly, pointing a finger at Harry. // See Ernesto? Harry said 'Brit' in that word! They're British! British! \\
// OK, OK, \\ Ernesto said in resignation. // You win. \\
Valencia turned with a smug expression on her face, jumping a bit when she noticed Lucius sitting at the table. // Oh! You scared me! Now, we'll have breakfast and then we'll work. \\
// Valencita, \\ Ernesto began.
// They can work, \\ Valencia said firmly. // I don' think they have to go anywhere immediately, \\
// Valencita, \\ Ernesto tried again.
// No. \\ Valencia said firmly before she made her way over to the cupboard.
Harry looked at Ernesto, who gave them an apologetic shrug, finished off his coffee and made his way outside. Hearing a wry chuckle, Harry looked over to Lucius who had a faint smile gracing his lips.
"I think that's the first bit of anything I understood." Lucius said.
Lucius scowled down at the pig in its pen, which was looking at him expectantly. The bucket of slops sat on the ground and Lucius eyed it with distaste. It was bad enough he was in a foul enough mood last night due to Harry's rather annoying chummy attitude with Ernesto and Valencia last night, but he felt even worse this morning, no thanks to Harry.
There had an equal amount of blankets on the bed when Lucius finally rose from the chair a bit stiffly. So when he woke in the early morning, freezing, he instinctively reached for the blanket. Only there was none. The boy had managed to roll them all around himself rather firmly. And as if that wasn't bad enough, Lucius had found himself with a tiny strip of mattress to sleep on while Harry, bundled but somehow sprawled across the bed, took most of the mattress.
A crappy night's sleep and a protesting back didn't do much to help disposition when he first woke. And then he came out the bathroom to find Harry had wiped something's thoroughly squashed remains on his only good robe, and he was more than ready to give Harry a real piece of his mind. Having to wear the slightly big and uncomfortable change of clothes didn't help either.
But if there was one thing Lucius did not do, it was display anger in front of others just like that. Harry was an exception, seeing that he planned to make the brat suffer once they got out of this hellhole.
Breakfast had been passable, and Valencia had promptly marched them out here. Harry had been just as clueless as Lucius had been. But Lucius had a bucket placed in his hand and been directed towards the pigpen, while Harry was taken to the garden, presumably to do some gardening.
Lucius had done paperwork all his life. He hadn't been grateful for it at the time though. He certainly was now.
Feeding a pig - the same pig that decided to make a seat of him the previous night, no less - was something he had no intention of doing in the slightest.
The pig gave a grunt and butted against the fence impatiently. Lucius glared at the animal; it actually sounded irritated. How dare it? If anything he had more right than it, with its simple existence, to be annoyed and irritable. Given the circumstances, Lucius thought he was coping rather admirably. Except when it came to this dratted obnoxious swine.
// You're not working. \\
Lucius looked around to find himself looking at Ernesto. Damn, that meant the woman wasn't far behind and-
// I knew it. But Valencita wouldn't listen. \\ Ernesto chuckled, picking up the bucket and pouring it into the trough. The pig gave a content grunt and started eating. Ernesto started walking and motioned for Lucius to come. // Follow me. You're obviously not up to dealing with animals. \\
Lucius walked after Ernesto who led him to the garden as well. A hoe was placed in his hand and Ernesto walked off to take care of something else. Lucius looked at the hoe and decided that it was decidedly better than dealing with the pig.
"Couldn't do it, huh?" Harry asked.
Lucius turned around and scowled at Harry who was hoeing with a placid look on his face. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," Harry replied simply with a shrug. "I don't think I would have picked up that bucket either."
Lucius didn't say anything, earning a raised eyebrow from Harry who was obviously expecting a reply in return. He simply grunted and started hoeing. Not that he had ever done anything like this in his life. He found himself glancing at Harry every so often, following his lead. Harry made this look far too easy. They worked in silence for a long while, Lucius continually glancing at Harry.
"Something wrong Lucius?" Harry asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
It was Lucius' turn to be startled and flush slightly. "Everything is perfectly fine." He said simply before going back to work.
He could have sworn he felt Harry's eyes on him still. But he didn't look up. This was going to be a long day.
Harry sat down on the edge of the bed, running his hand through his hair. Today hadn't been a ball.
First, they had hoed the garden and mulched it. Then Ernesto had made Lucius clear out the barn while Harry watched the goats. It seemed that Valencia was determined to put two suddenly available sets of hands to good use.
Harry was hard pressed to watch the goats and Lucius at the same time. He tried to tell himself that he was keeping an eye out on Lucius, to make sure he didn't get into trouble, but considering the amount of times Harry was watching Lucius and neglecting the goats, even he wasn't buying that excuse. The golden white beauty that Lucius possessed was simply accented by the sunlight. Especially the way the light glinted off his hair, making it look like spun gold. He could still see the muscles bunching and flexing beneath Lucius' skin. And the way the borrowed shirt had clung to Lucius' body…Harry had definitely been hard pressed to keep his eyes on the stupid goats. He swore that he feel Lucius' gaze on him sometimes, but Harry chalked it up to his imagination. If Lucius was looking at him, it was probably because he couldn't wait to get way from him.
"Merlin, I am never doing anything like that again," Lucius groused as he finally emerged from the bathroom, looking at his reddened hands. "You think they'd have something in there!"
"Blisters? Soreness?" Harry asked. "Aching?"
"It. Aches. Worse than filling out paperwork." Lucius said succinctly as he sat on his side of the bed. "How the bloody hell did you know?"
Harry simply shrugged and walked over to where Lucius sat, taking the chair with him. He sat down, looking Lucius questioningly. Lucius' brow furrowed, but he nodded his head slightly. Harry took one of Lucius' hands in his, massaging the palm in slow circles, pressing lightly at first but increasing the pressure as the seconds passed. Lucius didn't say anything, save for a slight hiss before he fell into silence once more. The redness was disappearing slowly. Once it was gone completely, Harry continued massaging for a bit longer before he switched over to the other hand.
Lucius had nice hands in all actuality. They had a distinctly aristocratic look to them, with the well groomed nails and slender digits. His palms were something of a long square, but they fit him; on anyone else, they would have looked gawkish. And the skin was so incredibly soft. Harry found the regretful thought that if this type of work kept up, the softness would invariably be lost.
"Harry," Lucius said suddenly in low voice.
Harry snapped out his thoughts to notice he was stroking Lucius' hand rather than massaging it. Caressing would have been a much better word for it. Harry dropped Lucius' hand abruptly and shoved the chair back at the desk before he promptly walked over to his side and got in bed, staring at the night table. An embarrassing flush was taking hold of his face and spreading down to his shoulders.
"Harry," Lucius tried again.
"Hands feel better?" Harry asked a bit more gruffly than he intended.
"How did you know what to do?" the bed creaked slightly as Lucius shifted his frame.
"I used to get blisters." Harry said simply choosing to leave that subject at that point. "I'm going to sleep."
And with that he licked his thumb and index fingers, outed the candle and buried himself under the blankets.
