A/N: So, here's chapter four. New character appears, and Harry finally loses it.
This is Harry/Draco, post-Hogwarts, though the slash content is extremely light. There are very vague suggestions of other relationships as well.
I've got this all written out, though I'm not 100 percent sure of the chapters, yet. There are 46 sections, but I may combine some of the smaller sections with the ones around them. This was originally two shorter sections, but has been combined into one.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Dedication: To Foodie, who still betas me despite my predilection for slash, and for FionaFawkes, who read and reviewed every single chapter, and gave me such excellent feedback. Also, for everyone who's read and loved my Harry/Draco. This one's for you.
Chrysalis
-----4
Unfortunately, things improved only slightly after that. Draco was still rather annoyed at Harry's insistence on his little rules. He wasn't allowed to be alone except while in the bathroom or his own bedroom. Bedtime was earlier than Draco had ever had—nine o'clock, which prompted quite a few fights that left both of them unwilling to speak to each other for days. And as for cleaning, well, Draco swore to himself that he'd never get used to that. It was just appalling, expecting him to pick up after himself, let alone expecting him to sweep the floor.
After a week of this, Draco was about ready to do anything to get away from Harry. He had even taken to calling him Potter to his face again, thrilling to the angry flush it brought to Harry's face.
Finally, Harry had had enough. "Just stop already!" he growled. "I've been trying to deal with you like the adult I thought you were, but you seem insistent to act your physical age. So maybe it's time I started treating you that way."
Draco snorted. "You've hardly been treating me like an equal, Potter."
"I never said that, Draco. I said I was trying to treat you like an adult. Who just might understand why I've given you the rules I have. But you don't seem to even be bothering to meet me even halfway. You just want things your way and no other."
Draco was annoyed. He'd been doing Harry's chores, hadn't he? What was so wrong with being upset at being treated like a kid? "Oh? Give me an example, Potter. How were you treating me like an adult? With the early bedtime? With the chores? Or maybe it was dictating what I do every day?"
"How about the fact that I talk to you about why I do these things, Draco? That you know they're not just arbitrary rules. Or the fact that I follow most of them myself. I'm not expecting much. But I suppose I should know better, shouldn't I? You never did get other people. It was always about you. Get out of here. Go to your room. If I look at you right now, I might do something I regret."
Draco laughed. "Like what, Potter? You going to hit me?" He stuck his chin out, smirking. "Do your worst."
Harry glowered at him for a moment, breathing heavily through his nose, then advanced on Draco. Draco backed up a step before he realized what he was doing, and held his ground, sure Harry was about to hit him. Maybe then he could ask to be re-situated. Surely there would be someone else who could take him. Severus, perhaps… He was startled when Harry's hands grabbed him by the waist and pulled him over his shoulder.
"What are you doing, Potter?" Draco managed with a squeak. Harry ignored him, and began moving down the hallway towards their rooms. Draco tried everything to get free—kicking, biting, shrieking his head off—but nothing worked. He soon found himself dumped rather heavily onto his own bed, and before he could scramble off it and move to the door, Harry was out of the room, the door closed behind him. When Draco managed to reach the door, he found it had been locked, and nothing he threw at it made a bit of difference. He screamed himself hoarse, telling Harry exactly what he thought of him, and exactly what he would do when he got free. Finally, he slumped down against the door. How dare he? How could he do something like this? Draco would make sure he paid, if it was the last thing he did.
It was a long wait until dinner. He hadn't been too sure that Harry wouldn't just leave him here without. He'd seemed pretty pissed. So when the door had opened of its own accord, Draco had breathed a sigh of relief, and headed down the hall to see what Harry'd come up with for dinner. But upon arriving in the kitchen he stopped short. Harry wasn't there.
Instead, standing in front of a steaming pot, gray-haired and wearing his usual shabby clothing, was Remus Lupin. Sure, he was older than the last time Draco had seen him, shortly before he'd left Hogwarts in disgrace, but he hadn't truly changed that much.
Draco glowered at him. "What are you doing here?" he asked coldly. "I thought that Harry was the only person allowed to spend time with me until my first test."
Lupin continued to face away from Draco, as though he thought he were no threat at all, stirring at the pot. "The only restriction is that you are not allowed to spend any time with family, friends or past associates until the Ministry decides you are reformed enough. The rules say nothing about who Harry can bring into the house, Mister Malfoy."
Draco sneered, but internally he felt rather like he was back in third year, and Lupin had just caught him laughing in the middle of a particularly important lesson. "Where is he?"
"Do you really care?" Lupin asked.
Draco thought about it for a long moment. What would it mean if Harry didn't come back, or worse, if he decided that he wanted to send Draco back to the Ministry? He didn't particularly want to answer, so he moved towards the cupboard where the plates were to set the table.
"Let me get those for you, Mister Malfoy," Lupin said, reaching over him and pulling down mugs and bowls. "We'll only need spoons or forks. Up to you." Then he turned back to his pot. Draco retrieved the silverware, and set up the table, even going and retrieving the milk from the fridge, and a loaf of bread. It had been a long time since lunch, so he nibbled on a slice while he waited for Lupin to serve them.
Once they were both served and eating, Lupin looked at him and asked his question again. "Do you care if Harry comes back or not, Mister Malfoy?"
Draco took a big bite of the rather delicious stew that Lupin had made in an effort to try to avoid the question. Lupin gave him a lingering look before speaking again. "Harry's rather at loose ends right now. He's a very easy-going person, particularly when he wants to be, Mister Malfoy. You are one of the few who can upset him quite this badly. Does that mean anything to you?"
Draco shrugged, taking a gulp of milk rather than responding vocally.
"If you don't want to try, I suppose that is your prerogative, but you have to understand that a lot of people were against Harry taking you in the first place. Ron Weasley in particular."
Draco snorted. "I bet. Why'd he bother, then?"
"Why do you think he did, Malfoy?" Lupin asked him sharply, as if he'd asked a question that he should have already known the answer to.
"I have no idea. We've always hated each other. He had no reason to believe that it would be any different now…" But he couldn't help but remember the very first day they'd met. Draco had even gone out of his way to be friendly to the other boy that day. It had been Harry who hadn't wanted to be friendly. Then or later. Why was it Draco's fault that they were at each other's throats now?
Lupin took a particularly long time mopping up some of the stew in his bowl before responding. "It's who he is. He has problems with trust, but it doesn't stop him from wanting to help others. He's wanted to help you for a while, now. Is that so wrong of him?" Golden-brown eyes met Draco's, and he found he couldn't look away. He wondered if this was some special werewolf power he hadn't known about before.
"The things he's expecting from me…"
"Let me guess. He has you doing back-breaking labour every day, and then expects you to make all the meals? And clean up after?" Lupin asked, amused.
Draco scowled at him. "Look, it might not seem like much to you, mutt, but to me…" Lupin stood up before he could continue and picked up the dishes, carrying them to the sink, ignoring him as though he hadn't even spoken.
"Did you know that I was best friends with your mother's cousin while we were at Hogwarts?"
Draco gaped at him. What the hell did his mother's cousin have to do with all this? "So?"
"You remind me of him. A lot. I made friends with someone our sixth year at Hogwarts, and he felt threatened by the friendship. He hated the other boy. Had since they'd first met. So he sent him to visit me one night. On a full moon. Because he couldn't have his way." Lupin turned around and looked at Draco for a long time. "You are so busy trying to show Harry why you're better than his rules that you refuse to see what he's trying to do for you. Maybe it's time you thought about it."
Draco frowned at him for a moment. "Will he be back?"
Lupin sighed. "Yes, Draco. He will. But I wouldn't push him again."
Draco nodded. "I think I'll go off to bed. It's been a long day."
"Good night, Draco. I hope you'll think about what I said."
Sleep didn't come easily that night.
◦♦☼♦◦
Draco woke early the next morning, and though he tossed and turned for at least another hour he was unable to fall back asleep. What if Harry had decided not to return, or worse, what if he had decided to send Draco back to Azkaban? He was the only one who seemed to have any faith in Draco right now. Lupin certainly hadn't seemed to think he was worth Harry's time. And he knew that Harry's friends hated him with a passion. Not that he could blame them…
He got up and dressed quietly, moving to his door, and wondering if it would even open. The knob turned easily in his hand, though, and Draco made his way down the hall. There had to be a way to apologize, didn't there? Lupin was not in the living room or the kitchen, which made the knot of anxiety in his stomach lessen a bit, and Draco decided that maybe the best way to apologize was to make Harry breakfast.
He knew how to use many of the Muggle appliances now, though Harry insisted upon being the one to use the stove. Still, Draco was sure he could whip something up. Eggs, perhaps. And some toast. Maybe even bacon?
Draco pulled out four eggs, and the packet of bacon, and the bread. He set the pan on the stovetop and began to separate several slices of the bacon while it heated. As soon as it was hot enough, he threw the slices into the pan, jumping back suddenly when it began to spit and pop upon contact with the hot surface. The bacon took almost no time at all, and soon he had scrambled eggs well under way, and six hot slices of bacon cooling on a paper towel. He popped several slices of bread into the toaster, and turned back to the eggs, not noticing when the door opened behind him.
"What on earth are you doing, Draco?" Harry's bemused voice came from the doorway.
Draco whirled around, nearly knocking the pan to the floor in his surprise. "Making breakfast?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "I can see that. But why?"
Draco shrugged and turned back to pull the eggs off the burner. They were finished anyway. "'Cause I felt like it."
Harry moved forward and picked up a slice of bacon, nibbling on it as he looked down at Draco, who was staring at the floor. "Draco." When Draco didn't look up at this, Harry pulled his chin up. "Go sit down, okay?" he smiled. "I'll deal with setting the table. And serving. It's the least I can do. You did a good job."
Draco looked at him, shocked, then turned and moved to the table, watching as Harry dished up two plates for them, dividing everything equally between the plates. Once the food, along with jam and juice was settled onto the table, the two sat for a moment, looking at each other.
Draco wasn't sure he wanted to hear what Harry had to say, but he knew he needed this chance. Needed Harry to give him this chance. Draco found it hard to meet those green eyes. He knew Harry saw through him. He always had. "I…"
"Draco, we can't keep doing this. Just when I think I'm reaching you, you back off and lash out. You know I want to help, right?" Draco nodded. "So what should I do, then?" he asked quietly.
Draco fiddled with his fork. He'd rather hoped that Harry would accept the food as an apology. He hadn't wanted a long, drawn-out conversation about things. But he owed Harry something. For believing in him, if nothing else.
"I don't know." He sighed. "I know you're trying to help me. I just…"
"Tell me, Draco. What can I do? You need the guidance. I know it's got to be hard to deal with being eighteen in an eight-year-old body, but it's not going to last long. We're halfway through the month already. Have I really made it that hard for you?"
Draco shook his head. "It's not that. It's just…you." Harry's eyes flashed hurt for a moment, then the emotion disappeared. "I'm sorry, but we've never gotten along, H-Harry. It feels strange…to spend all this time with you. To have to listen to what you tell me. It's wrong, somewhere in my head. Besides, what you're telling me is so different from what I know. I—"
Harry cut him off. "That's the point, Draco. You have to understand. The world you grew up knowing—that's the wrong one." Harry grew thoughtful for a moment, before speaking again with a rueful smile. "I think we all have images the people who raised us create. It's hard to escape them. But part of growing up is figuring out our own feelings on that sort of thing. That's why you're here. To see if you really believe it. If you do…" Harry looked at him, worried.
Draco laughed sourly. "All I know is that following my father's path turned out to be a pretty stupid thing. I don't know what I believe any more, to be honest."
"So you'll let me try?"
Draco shrugged. "I've been watching your movies, haven't I?"
Harry nodded. "True. But you still fight me on so much, Draco. We have to get past this. Is that even possible?"
Draco bit his lip for a long moment, before saying simply, "I'll try."
