Chapter 3

Two weeks later Draco had developed a sort of ritual in the house. Every morning he would get up and take a long shower. He loved the shower. Warm water! He didn't have to bathe only in the summer where in winter he would freeze without the sun to warm him and pathetic warming charms.

He had fresh clothes! They were soft and lose and clean. He liked to stay in flannel bottoms and a big t-shirt. There was a nit in the back of his mind, saying how before he would never look so common but comfort had overtaking pride long ago.

He was the first one down the stairs in the morning for he was a light sleeper and he would smile at Harry from across the table. He scarfed down his food out of habit but he ate sparingly only enough to last him till lunch. He had to keep reminding himself that yes he would eat again. In a couple hours in fact.

Shortly after breakfast, Mrs. Hermione Weasley would walk through the fireplace and talk with Harry while the kids got dressed. When Hermione first learned that Draco Malfoy was the new tenant, she nearly fainted. She fell into a chair and burst into tears. Harry stood a bit in front of Draco defensively but Draco had felt no anger on her actions.

Draco had knelt by her chair and waited for her to stop crying. She slowly reached forward to touch his face and whispered "You're real. You're alive" She was shocked and oddly relieved. The dramatic suicide had rocked the Wizarding world to its knees. It ended the War with little to no Light casualties without any death eaters to fight and started a chain of events that ended House rivalries, usurped corrupt Ministry officials and caused many old pureblood families to open their eyes to the fact that hatred affects everyone. Even the heir to the wealthiest pureblood family in Britain.

He never asked her what she thanked him for.

Hermione taught Lexie and Damian both Muggle and Wizarding History while Harry worked with Niki on her math, spelling and speech. They'd all sit down for lunch and then Hermione would leave and Harry would urge Lexie to go upstairs and meditate.

He then taught Damian magic in a specialized, ministry approved room. Draco sat in the hallway with Niki and they would play games to pass the time. He was a big bad monster and would chase her around the floor on his hands and knees and she would run and jump and try to knock him down or wave her hand like a wand and act like she cursed him. He didn't roar like a monster and she didn't laugh or squeal but her smile was wide and she brokenly giggled.

They gave Harry a heart attack when he heard Niki giggle. He burst into the hallway only to find Draco lying on the ground like he'd been shot with Niki on his chest trying to wake him up. They both looked up at Harry who leaned against the doorframe and laughed hard for a full five minutes.

However, Draco was not fooled. Yes he was happy- there he said it. He was happy here but he never forgot what here was: an asylum.

There were wards around their beds, and their mirrors were unbreakable. Their utensils were plastic and their plates were paper. No one was allowed in the kitchen except Harry and Damian had his bags of blood kept in a freezer in his room with a microwave to heat them. No one was allowed outside without Harry, a house elf or a Weasley. They had books that had soft paper edges and Harry, when he went to say goodnight, always magically scanned the bedroom for anything unusual.

Lexie took little pills every breakfast and Dog was by her side constantly for throughout the day she would have panic attacks and Dog would calm her down. Dog was also declawed. Niki's stuffed dragon, (whose name no one knew but everyone called Dragon) pulsed with magic. Harry had charmed the dragon to alert him if anything was wrong. And Draco had a feeling that every other kid who was in Hogwarts also had something to the equivalent of Dragon. A necklace, a watch, a hairpin maybe or a pet that followed them around.

Draco apparently didn't need anything. He followed Harry around anyway.

Every afternoon Damian and Lexie would do the work they had been assigned to practice and Niki would take a nap. After dinner Harry would tell them a story. And they would listen practically spellbound until it was time for bed. But before dinner, when everyone was working (or napping) Harry would work with Draco.

Harry encouraged Draco to mouth words and to think about how they would sound. He would mouth a passage from a book and then Harry would tell him about his friends. Somethings they've been doing and who married who and who's working where. After they would play a game. Chess was Draco's favorite. He was really good. He'd never forget how to play. Or how to win. Faint memories always surfaced when they played, memories of long rainy days in the common room. Harry would get up and sit next to him. He'd rub his back and Draco, if it was a painful memory, would cry on his shoulder.

And once, when it was a happy memory of his old friend falling out of his chair during a game, Draco chuckled. It was quiet, horse, mostly of breathy broken pants but it was something.

It was one of the reason's Draco liked chess so much. He remembered. And with each tear he didn't shed, he knew he was getting stronger.

…

Draco wasn't sleeping.

That was the first thing harry noticed the next morning. It had been close to two weeks since Draco had arrived and probably he'd been sleeping restlessly the entire time but it was only showing now. And with the full moon a week away, he probably wouldn't be getting anymore rest anyway.

Harry waited until after everyone fell asleep to investigate. Using spells to muffle every sound he made he opened Draco's bedroom door to find the man tossing and turning in his sleep.

Draco was agitated. He couldn't sleep. He hadn't been. He couldn't shake that feeling that came with the dark of night that there was danger in the dark. He was on the ground, vulnerable and while he knew he wasn't in the wild anymore and that he was not in danger on the ground and that the bed was really soft and warm—dammit he couldn't sleep!

Frustrated Draco grabbed a blanket and a pillow. It was the last night he was going to sleep like that! Harry watched in interest. Draco looked to the top of his wardrobe. He wasn't worried about knocking it down for all the furniture was nailed to the floor. He tensed his legs and shifted his weight and coiled up like a cat ready to pounce or a cobra to strike. Harry nearly gasped for Draco had jumped and cleared the top edge of the tall wardrobe, crouched low, hair just brushing the ceiling.

Much more comfortable higher off the ground, werewolf curled up into a ball with his blanket and pillow and promptly fell asleep.

Harry rubbed his eyes cast a cushioning charm at the foot of the wardrobe before creeping out of the room.

Draco walked into his room the next night and stopped short before shaking his head and grinning madly. He now had a bed that was high off the ground like a bunk-bed only under it was a rug and giant pillows and blankets to sit and read in.

But there still were reinforced cushioning charms all around the bed. Harry was no fool.

Draco climbed the ladder and snuggled under the blankets. And then he smiled at the note on the wall.

"I thought it was better than the wardrobe."

…..

Yay! Draco's thoughts on living here! Sweet kinda fluff filler chapter. Sorry my mind is so full of fluff it melts into my dark dramatic stories. We meet Ginny next and hardcore angst next. After all, it's the full moon.