Draco wakes on Saturday morning to the Younger Weasley's voice outside of Harry's door. He is instantly awake, icy fear flooding his veins. It's not even nine in the morning on the first day the others are allowed out of their rooms, and their relationship is already about to be discovered. How are they so bad at this?
"Quick," Harry hisses at him. "Get in the closet."
"I haven't been in the closet for five years," he protests.
"Shut up, Draco. You know what I mean."
"It's a good thing you're cute," Draco says, but he slides out of bed and tiptoes over to Harry's closet. He hears Harry, scrabbling around on the floor for clothes as he closes the closet door behind him.
It's dark in the closet, but Draco can see into the room through the crack in the door near the hinge. He presses his eye to it, watching as Harry pulls open his bedroom door. Harry's managed to find some pajama bottoms and they hang rather low on his hips. Draco wants to take them off of him again as soon as Weasley leaves.
"Hi Ron," Harry says. "What's up?"
"Winky let us out," Weasley says.
"Ok."
"So I came to say hi."
"Ron, I was asleep. Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"You haven't given up auror hours this quickly, have you?" Draco thinks Weasley is trying to make a joke but it's half past bleedin' seven and so it falls flat.
"It's a fucking Saturday," Harry bites out.
"And?"
"And I was fucking sleeping."
"You're up now, though. Come down for breakfast.
"Why are you working from home, Ron?" Harry asks, real venom in his tone. "What did you do to make Robards stick you on desk duty?" Draco wonders why this hasn't come up before. Surely Harry and Weasley have talked more than this? Before Harry had locked him in a room for three days?
"He put me on desk duty this quarter," Weasley says. "Er, on account of all the reports I let pile up."
"Right," Harry says in a tone that says he doesn't completely believe Ron. "I take it you'll need a desk then?" Draco thinks he sees Weasley lift a shoulder.
"If there's one to spare."
"We can make something work. In the meantime, why don't you go down to the kitchen. There's tea and coffee—"
"—Tea? But you hate tea."
"Draco likes it."
"So he's Draco now?"
"Yes, Ron." Harry puts a hand on his hips and glares at the offending redhead. "He's Draco."
"I didn't realize."
"You'd better be nice to him." Draco can't see Weasley's face, but he's sure he's making a sour expression.
"Only if he is."
"Get down to the kitchen with you," Harry says with a sigh. "I'll shower and meet you down there." Weasley must agree because a moment later Harry is shutting the door. Draco all but tumbles back out of the closet.
"I guess I can't fall asleep here anymore," Draco says.
"Shame," Harry says. "I like waking up next to you." He walks over to Draco and snakes an arm around his waist. He pulls him close and Draco turns his head away as he encounters Harry's morning breath.
"I'm going to go get dressed," he says. He pecks Harry quickly on the mouth and then disentangles himself from Harry's arms. "D'you reckon he's gone?"
"Pretty sure I heard him clomp down the stairs."
"Brill. See you in a bit." Draco picks up a shirt and a pair of boxers from the floor and slips them on before he leaves the room, and runs straight into Pansy.
"That's your room then?" she asks, indicating Harry's door.
"Uh." Pansy narrows her eyes at him. It's only half seven in the morning but she's already impeccably dressed and both her lipstick and eyeliner are perfect. Her mouth is it's usual crimson, matching her nails. Draco feels distinctly not at all dressed standing next to her.
"My room's that one," he finally says, pointing at his door down the hall. "This one's Harry's."
"Early morning meeting?"
"You could say that," he says carefully. Pansy's mouth twists to the side and she stares at him for a long moment. "Shall we?" He gestures towards his door. She nods and follows him down the corridor.
"I suppose it was only a matter of time," she says once the door closes behind them.
"What was?"
"You sleeping with Potter. I assume that's why you're wearing his boxers?" Draco glances down. They are indeed Harry's boxers but he has no idea how Pansy knows this. Draco opens his mouth but he doesn't know what to say and so shuts it again. "Most of your boxers are a nicer fabric. I presume you want to keep it a secret?" Pansy continues talking even as Draco doesn't respond. "Just going off of the look of abject terror you had on your face when you saw me." Still unsure what to say, Draco nods. Pansy sighs like this is a huge inconvenience to her and sits down on the edge of his bed.
"So what's been going on?" she asks.
"What do you mean?"
"Between you and Potter? Since you've been here."
"Uh."
"Oh, Merlin, Draco. It's not a difficult question."
"Shall I recap my entire stay? Pans, I've been here for almost a month."
"Fine," she says. "How long have you two been fucking?"
"Really?"
"Draco." Her tone brooks no arguments.
"Fine. Since Tuesday."
"So it's a recent thing?"
"What were you expecting?"
"With the way you were obsessed with him throughout school? I'd expected you'd fall into bed with him far sooner than that."
"I was not obsessed with him in school." Pansy says nothing, only raises one perfect eyebrow at him. "I was not."
"Darling, if you'd looked for the snitch nearly as much as you'd looked for Potter's arse on the Quidditch pitch, we would have won far more games."
"I—"
"—Wasn't there a match where he caught the snitch right next to your face?"
"No?" Draco flushes crimson, but Pansy is staring at her nails.
"I think I remember it differently." She looks up at him again."But the point stands. You were obsessed with him."
"Can you piss off and let me get dressed?" Draco snaps. "I'd prefer to have caffeine for this conversation."
"So picky," Pansy says, but she smirks and stands up from his bed. "This conversation isn't over."
"We'll talk more on our tour of the house," Draco calls as she shuts the door behind her. Then he puts his head in his heads. At least Pansy won't tell anyone.
…
As Draco's about to leave his room, showered and appropriately dressed, he hears voices outside of his door. He stops, not wanting to intrude on what seems to be an argument.
"Oliver," says what sounds like the older Weasley's voice. "Leave me alone. This isn't Hogwarts."
"No, it's not," comes the response from Wood. "If it were, you'd be speaking to me."
"I am speaking to you."
"Or would have responded to the notes I slipped under your door."
"You know why I—" Weasley sighs. "You know we can't. My job—"
"—I gave you space for years. But now we're both here, I thought maybe—"
"—No."
"Perce, please."
"No, Oliver." There's the sound of footsteps on the stairs and Draco opens the door to his room just in time to hear Wood mutter,
"I guess I should just be glad he's not calling me Wood." Draco tries to retreat back into his room, but Wood spots him. "Ah, Malfoy. Coming down to breakfast?" Draco gives Wood a strained smile before nodding and following Wood down the stairs. "It's so nice of Hundo to have us stay," Wood says, carrying on as though Draco hasn't heard his entire last conversation, which for all Draco knows, Wood thinks he hasn't.
"Yes," Draco says. "Very nice."
"Been here long?"
"Since the start of lockdown."
"Blimey, and you two haven't killed each other?" Wood chuckles like he's made a joke. Draco flashes him another tight smile.
"No," he says. "We've actually learned to get along."
"Mm. That sounds like Perce and I back at Hogwarts. We couldn't stand each other for the first five years."
"Oh?" Draco doesn't know what else to say.
"But it was a dorm room of two when we both came back for our N.E.W.T.s., so…" Wood trails off, staring into the middle distance as they walk down the last few stairs into the kitchen. Draco makes a noncommittal noise and makes a beeline for the tea supplies, leaving Wood to fend for himself. Or, more accurately, leaving Wood in the capable hands of Winky the house elf.
…
"Before anyone asks, let me clear something up," Draco says at 'breakfast' which is still just caffeine consumption time, even with all nine of them. Winky had looked supremely disappointed when none of them had taken her up on the offer of pancakes. "Yes, I was a Death Eater. No, I didn't want to be. Yes, I have a Dark Mark, and yes I have done everything I can to make it less ugly."
He rolls up his sleeve so that they can all see the skull on his forearm. He holds it out for a long moment, trying not to squirm under the scrutiny of so many pairs of eyes. "I mean, at the very least I tried," he amends.
"Draco, it's beautiful," says Abbott. "All the flowers are so pretty."
"Thank you," he says.
"It looks like one of those Day of the Dead whatchamacallits," Longbottom says.
"That's what I was going for."
"The snake's little hat was my idea," Pansy says. "I thought it would be funny."
"Is that a party hat?" Wood asks. "I can't quite see from here."
"Yes," Pansy says. "In Hufflepuff colors."
"Moving on," Draco says. "I'm doing my best to make amends with everybody. I know I hurt a lot of people. I think I owe all of you at the table an apology of some sort or another. I don't mean for this to be a blanket apology but that's sort of what it is. If you have any specific grievances with me, I hope that you will feel comfortable enough to bring them up to me."
"I have one," the younger Weasley says. "You're a dickhead."
"Not specific enough." Everybody laughs while Weasley glowers into his coffee.
…
"Has anyone here been watching Doctor Who?" Draco asks the group at lunch. He'd managed to avoid Pansy's questioning all morning, distracting her with design plans for the dining room until Harry had called them down to eat. The group is all seated around the kitchen table eating the excellent sandwiches that Winky had made. Harry seems disappointed that there are no peanut butter and jam monstrosities, but he doesn't get up to make another sandwich.
"Doctor What?" Wood asks.
"No," Draco corrects, smirking. "Doctor Who."
"It's a television show," Harry explains. Seven pairs of eyes blink at him. "So that's a no?"
"That would be a no," Percy agrees. Draco has decided that Percy can be called Percy as he is the least annoying of the two Weasleys and therefore is the most likely to be on a first name basis in the near future. The younger Weasley is still Weasley in his mind. Or perhaps Weaselbee when the mood strikes him. "Mum won't let dad have a television. He's most upset about it."
"He should be," Draco says. "The television is brilliant." This statement causes everyone to turn and stare at Draco. He looks around at them all before shrugging. "S'true."
"What is Doctor Who?" Abbott asks.
"It's a show about aliens and time travel," Draco says. "They fly around in a muggle police box that's got an undetectable extension charm on it—"
"—Draco, it's a spaceship, not a police box," Harry interjects.
"It looks like a police box and it has an undetectable extension charm on it. It's bigger on the inside." Harry nods in agreement.
"Fair."
"And they save the world. Or the day. Or something. It's very fun."
"What Draco's trying to get at, is that he and I will be watching it at seven pm tonight and anyone who wants to join us is welcome."
"And anyone who talks over the show will be banned from the indoor pool," Draco says. Because it's good to set expectations early.
"The what?" Krum asks, speaking for the first time. Thus far, he's been content to watch them all interact with a small smile on his face.
"Indoor swimming pool," Harry explains. "It's, er, behind a hidden door?"
"Can we have a tour of the house?" Weasley asks even though his mouth is still half full of his ham and cheese sandwich.
"Ooh, yes please," Longbottom seconds.
"Once we finish lunch," Harry says, at which point silence falls as everyone starts stuffing their sandwiches into their mouths at an almost impolite rate.
…
The house tour starts with the ground floor. Harry takes them briefly into the dining room before showing them the library and attached study.
"This is where Percy will be working during the day," Harry says, indicating the desk, but Percy shakes his head.
"There's a desk in my room," he says. "No need to keep this free for me." Weasley raises his hand and Harry turns to look at him.
"May I use it?" he asks. "My room doesn't have a writing surface." Harry nods.
"Ron will be working in here," he says and Weasley gives him a small smile. Draco frowns slightly at this development. The library sounds far less inviting if Weasley is going to be in the room next door. But Harry had wanted him here, so Draco will put up with him.
The tour continues with the nine of them traipsing up the stairs to the rooftop patio. It's mid April now, so it's not quite as cold as it was when Harry brought Draco up here almost four weeks ago, though it's still not what anyone would describe as warm.
"This is lovely," Abbott says.
"It could use some plants," Longbottom says and Pansy, to Draco surprise, agrees with him.
"Nothing that eats people," she clarifies.
"'Course not," Longbottom says. "But possibly a fluttering amaranth? Or even some non-magical plants. Succulents might look nice in a pot on that table."
"We might be replacing the furniture," Draco says. He looks to Harry who shrugs.
"There are better ways to utilize the space," Pansy says. "You could get a fire-pit for example, with chairs clustered around it."
"Usually I just use a warming charm," Harry mutters.
"Yes, but the aesthetic, Potter," Pansy says. Harry rolls his eyes but nods at her before he ushers everyone back inside. They pause only briefly on the top three floors as Harry points out the various bedrooms.
"And here is where Neville and Hannah are," Harry says as they reach the first floor. He points to the closed door that hides their room. "Linen closet." He points to another door. "And finally, through here is the sitting room." The group makes its into the room. Draco can't help but feel proud as he watches them look around. It's the first room that Pansy has no comments about. Or, almost no comments.
"Is this the style you've settled on?" she asks.
"Yes," Harry says. He looks to Draco who nods.
"It's nice. I think it will work well with the house. Draco, is this room finished?"
"All the furniture's in if that's what you're asking."
"Do you mind if I—?"
"—Rearrange it? I figured you would." She smirks at him.
"Where's the swimming pool?" Krum asks.
"Right, yes," Harry says, jumping into action. He explains how the door appears when certain bricks are depressed and demonstrates using the ballroom. Draco's immensely glad he'd taken the time to thoroughly clean it as it practically glistens when Harry throws open the door. There's a collective sound of appreciation, but there's not a real sense of excitement until Harry shows people the game room.
"Brilliant," Weasley says, walking immediately over to the chess set. "Anyone fancy a game?"
"Not a chance," Draco drawls.
"Scared, Malfoy?"
"Exceedingly." Weasley looks a bit taken aback by his answer until he realizes that Draco is joking. Then he rolls his eyes and proceeds to ignore him in favor of looking at the chess pieces. Krum and Wood, meanwhile have made their way over to the dartboards and are pulling out the darts, with Percy hovering near them. Draco walks up to them.
"Do you need a fourth?" he asks. The two quidditch players turn to look at him. "It looks like Percy would like to play too." Percy gives Draco a long stare but Wood says,
"Capital! You and Krum versus me and Perce?" Draco catches Krum's eye and he shrugs a yes. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Percy freeze up, but he nods stiffly. Behind him, he hears Abbott take Weasley up on the offer of a game of chess and Harry ask Pansy and Longbottom if they first want to play gobstones, which gets a vehement pass from Pansy, and then if they want to play snooker. Draco catches Harry's eye briefly and grins. It seems they'll be here for a while.