Chapter 2: Day 2 - 07:11

He resolved to be in a better mood on Boxing Day. That was Sirius' intention. Because everybody else was enjoying themselves and dammit, he would too! Even if it meant seeing Harry's smiling face, talking to him companionably, and knowing that his smile was attributed more to his sodding boyfriend than to anything Sirius may say or do.

Life was a trial.

Rolling out of bed at dawn had seen Sirius resolutely fastening a smile upon his face. He pushed aside his lingering negative thoughts about the previous night with an aggressive shove. Today would be better. Anything would be better than last night; the Malfoys had stayed late and Sirius had had to forcibly remove himself from the room for an early night or risk being told by Remus for the third time in as many hours to cease his glaring. He'd missed out on the drunken revelry that had resounded through the floor below him and proceeded to grumble to himself miserably for the few hours it took him to fall into sleep.

Miserable he would be no longer. Boxing Day would be better than Christmas Day. It would be for him, at least, because he would make it so. No Malfoys hanging around the house, their smug, aloof countenances pervading the air around them in a near-visible smog. It would just be Sirius, Harry, Harry's closest friends, the rest of the Weasleys… maybe Remus and Tonks if they had chosen to stay the night. Sirius wouldn't be surprised if they had; Remus rarely drank himself silly but had been known to let loose on that one day a year. It was another thing Sirius regretted about retiring early the previous evening; he'd missed Remus making a fool of himself.

Slapping his face with both hands to rid it of its gritty rigidity as he sat up in his bed, Sirius took himself into the bathroom adjoining to his room. He didn't even let the initial stuttering stop and start of the showerhead dissuade him from his resolution to 'be happy' that day. And if the water ran a little bit brown for a moment as it spluttered, it always had and likely always would. It hadn't killed Sirius yet, so why should it now?

Nothing to worry about.

Making his way down three flights of stairs towards the kitchen, Sirius passed the guest rooms with quiet footsteps. It was a feat unto itself given the creaking capacities of the house's old wooden floors beneath dusty rugs, the drab walls that seemed to groan in objection at his very passing. He heard the murmur of voices in several of the rooms but tuned out to them, ignoring the distinctive ring of Ginny's question to a whispering Hermione, the snickers of Fred and George, the cursing of Tonks as she tripped over something, most likely simply in the act of getting out of bed.

And he likely would have successfully ignored them all had not the bathroom door on the second floor swung open as he passed. Had not the devil himself stepped from the white-washed room in a cloud of steam and the smell of something minty.

Sirius' day very abruptly descending into rapid deterioration. What the fuck was he still doing here?!

Draco Malfoy paused in step at the sight of him. Paused, and eyed Sirius flatly with about as much favour as Sirius offered him. Sirius met his gaze for a moment before deliberately running a critical eye over the boy. He was tall, though not yet as tall as Sirius himself, with the musculature afforded from quidditch evident even through his casual robes. He held himself pompously regal, straight backed and chin held high, tilted far enough back that Sirius swore he could almost make out his nostril hairs. Somehow the boy managed to make the towel hanging about his neck, the damp slickness of his hair in lazy yet immaculate styling, look classy.

Yes, Sirius could recognise that the boy had class. That he had a good posture and fashion sense almost as decent as Sirius himself, even if for some ungodly reason he chose to wear robes as casual wear. That he was a good looking boy, even if his features were a little sharp and his gaze permanently hard. Sirius recognised those favourable characteristics and loathed them. It was just one point more in the boy's favour. It would have been far easier to have loaded "hideous and deformed" onto Sirius' list of deterrents to present to Harry should the possibility for debate arise. He had prepared speech that he had not yet had the chance to voice to Harry of all the reasons not to date Draco Malfoy. Starting with the fact that he was Draco Malfoy.

He just couldn't stand the brat! Why did he have to stay the night? Of all the unfortunate, infuriating, horrifying things…

Draco was studying Sirius with as much intensity as Sirius afforded him. Critical? Yes, indeed he was, and Sirius almost felt lacking beneath that gaze. He felt his lip curl and a growl itch to fall from his lips. Before he could say anything, however, Draco spoke.

"Good morning, Sirius. I hope you're feeling better this morning."

The growl faded, draining down Sirius' throat in his surprise. He blinked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the boy. "What?"

Draco inclined his head to the left, gesturing, Sirius realised, to the room Sirius had given Harry situated right beside the bathroom. "Harry said you were feeling rather unwell last night and that was why you retired early."

And the growl arose once more. Narrowing his eyes to a near squint, Sirius slowly straightened his spine and folded his arms across his chest. "Don't play the idiot with me, Malfoy. I think we both know that Harry was just being generous."

In an instant Draco's face fell into a smirk. It was a different kind of smirk to the one Sirius was familiar with; not the aloofly condescending kind, nor the amused yet derogatory sort. He couldn't quite read this one. "Yes, of course. I was merely… throwing you a bone of sorts."

"Is that a pun? Are you trying to be funny?"

"Please, Sirius, I never try," Draco replied. That smirk – it was almost a smile; a bloody self-satisfied smile – stretched wider.

Sirius' lip curled. "You watch yourself, boy. You might have everyone else fooled, even Harry's friends, but not me. I know you're a little bastard under all your fancy posturing."

That damnable smirk didn't shift an inch. "That's where you're wrong, Sirius. I'm not posturing at all."

"What the hell do you -?"

"I'm merely being myself. Because that's who Harry likes the most." Draco paused, tilting his head slightly like a bird with a tick. "Just like I'm attempting civility with you because that's what Harry wants too."

Sirius blinked in surprise once more. He felt his eyebrows creep into his hairline and had to struggle not to lose them entirely. "You say you're –"

Thump-thump-thump

The trio of strikes to the wall of Harry's room silenced Sirius in a moment. He and Draco turned in synchrony as a muffled voice rung into the hallway. "Draco, have you drowned in there? Look, I know you're pedantic about your morning routine but don't you think that nearly an hour in the shower is a little excessive."

Sirius' tongue froze in his mouth at the words. So casual, so offhanded, as though, indeed, Harry was entirely comfortable with the Malfoy boy. As if they were long-held friends, companionable with one another. Sirius had realised it before, months ago when Harry had first told him who his boyfriend was, but it never made any subsequent reminders any easier to bear.

Even worse when Malfoy's smile-smirk returned to his face as he glanced back towards Sirius. When he spoke, however, it was to Harry rather than Sirius, his voice raised to carry. "Why, would you come and rescue me if I was drowning."

Harry's snort was nearly inaudible from the other room. "Not hardly. I couldn't handle such an incompetent boyfriend, thank you very much. I'd leave you to your fate."

"Such love," Draco sighed loudly as he turned from Sirius and made his way towards the door to Harry's room. "I can detect your affection beneath your attempts at nonchalance."

Harry probably said something else. Sirius wasn't sure. He was too absorbed in glaring at Draco's back as the boy paused to open the door, stick his head through first as though making sure the way was clear, and stepped inside. He did, however, make out the muted mutters through the walls, words incomprehensible. And the burst of laughter from Harry that followed.

His teeth were grinding painfully before he even realised it. Great, he thought. Simply wonderful. Not only did the Malfoy boy stay the night and subsequently trespass upon Sirius' house, but he was already monopolising Harry's attention from the moment they both woke up. Sirius didn't like to linger too long on the thought of them waking up at all. Together. In the same bed.

Draco Malfoy – Malfoy – dating Sirius' godson? James would be turning in his grave at the very thought.

Grunting his disgruntlement, Sirius stomped with undue heaviness downstairs towards the kitchen. His day was ruined. Ruined. And it was all the fault of Draco-sodding-Malfoy. Of course it would be Malfoy that he would encounter first that day; it set the mood for the subsequent hours of torment whereby he was made distinctly aware of the lack of Harry's presence, of the cause behind the wide smile he gave Sirius when they finally saw one another at lunch. Sirius couldn't even find it within himself to offer much of a smile back.

Harry hardly seemed to notice anyway. And when Draco offered a nod and a word of greeting to Sirius, he positively beamed with approval. As though he were a proud parent at his child's first quidditch match.

Sirius was under no allusions. Draco might play nice, but he was certain that the boy held as much dislike for him as was directed towards him. Well, maybe not quite as much; it would be impossible for anyone to dislike someone as much as Sirius held aversion for the boy.

Still, Sirius replied with as much cordiality as he could muster. And if all that amounted to was a slight pinch in his scowl and a nod of recognition for Draco's words, well… he was getting there. Slowly. He didn't want to be on any sort of 'good terms' with Draco Malfoy, but he would try for Harry. He would try. And it wasn't only because Draco had professed that he was doing the same for such reasons.

Sirius owed it to the boy. He hated the thought of it, but he did owe it to him after what happened eight months ago. And damn him if he didn't at least try to repay his debts.