Summary: Harry's working at a motel for the summer. Unexpectedly, Draco appears and rents a room. Harry is filled with questions. Why is he there? What is he hiding from? And, probably the most important question of all, why is the need to be close to him so strong? This takes place somewhere between year five and year six.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters mentioned in the Harry Potter series. I will not be profiting off this story.


Stamping his time card was always a mixed bag for Harry. On one hand, he didn't have to touch a mop for another twelve hours. On the other, he had to trudge back to the dreaded Privet Drive. He sighed and leaned against the front desk, resting his elbows on the cool counter.

Mr. Jameson looked up from his end-of-the-day data notebook and flicked Harry on the shoulder. "See here, boy. I'm not about to have loiterers in the lobby. Bad for business."

Harry laughed and turned around, resting his crossed arms on the desk instead. "'Bad business'? Seeing you at the front counter is bad business. I'll probably attract more customers."

Mr. Jameson shook his head, looking back down at his notebook with a small smile. "Never heard that one before," He mumbled sarcastically.

Harry snorted, resting his cheek on his fist. He stayed there for a few minutes, watching Mr. Jameson write. For such a large and intimidating man, his handwriting was surprisingly dainty and curly.

"So, you were slacking off a bit today. Did you go visit those nice girls at the pool?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

Harry snorted, "No. But now that I know I won't get in trouble for that…"

"Watch it kid."

"No, I caught up with 'Mr. Draco' when I changed his towels." Harry laughed.

"You know him?" Mr. Jameson asked.

Harry nodded, "Yeah, we- … Ah, he lives in the neighborhood near ours."

Mr. Jameson pursed his lips, "I'd be careful, kid. He doesn't seem right."

Harry shook his head, "No, he's alright. He's just going through something, I think."

Mr. Jameson shrugged, "If you say so. By the way, how's the home life? Aunt Marge causing you anymore trouble?"

"Oh, home life is brilliant," Harry said sarcastically. "And I don't have to worry about her anymore. She, uh, kind of drifted apart from the family. Doesn't visit much."

Mr. Jameson sighed, "That aunt and uncle of yours… Really, you'd think they would have a bit more compassion."

Harry shrugged, drawing shapes on the counter with his finger, "It's not like I give them a lot of reason to feel compassionate."

Mr. Jameson grasped him by the shoulder, looking him in the eye. "You don't need a reason for them to treat you well, Harry. No one should need a reason to treat someone with respect."

Harry nodded, looking back down at the counter. Mr. Jameson sighed and patted him on the head. "Go on. Off to the house, then. I'll see you in the morning."

Harry obeyed, pulling at his hair and trudging out through the glass door. He usually left from the back gate on the other side of the pool to get home. It was a lot of walking from there to Privet Drive, but he didn't mind. The clear summer air was nice around this time of night.

Harry took one last swooping look of the pool, freezing when he locked eyes with a customer nervously standing to his right.

"Malfoy? What are you doing just standing there?" Harry moved towards him, but Draco took a step back every time Harry stepped forward.

"N-nothing!" The light in the pool was the only thing illuminating his face. It was difficult to catch, but Harry could see Draco's cheeks pinken.

A slow grin appeared on Harry's face, "Were you spying on me, Draco?"

Malfoy's pink grew into a vibrant red. He tried his best to look enraged at the mere thought, but he only managed to look embarrassed. "Excuse me? Spy on you? I have much better things to do with my time, Potter."

"God, you're such a drama queen. I was joking." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Either way, I wasn't spying. I needed-" He stopped midsentence. "Ah, never mind."

"What?"

"None of your business, Potter."

Harry sighed. "Whatever, Malfoy," He mumbled.

They were silent for a few minutes, each waiting for the other to speak. Harry rubbed his neck, about to dismiss himself before Draco asked, "What was that muggle talking about?"

"Who? Mr. Jameson?" Harry thought over his previous conversation, "Oh, don't think too much of what he said. He didn't mean anything by that 'doesn't seem right' comment. He just meant-"

Draco shook his head, "No, not that. Like I could possibly be bothered by what a muggle says about me." Harry shot him a disapproving look. Draco ignored it, "What did he mean about your 'home life'?"

Harry blinked. "Oh, uh…" He hadn't expected Draco to wonder about that. "It's just… Ha, I don't really know how to explain this to you."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, "What, I wouldn't understand or something?"

Harry shook his head, "No, no-"

"You don't want to tell me?"

"No, it's just-"

"Then it shouldn't be all that difficult, Potter."

Harry was getting frustrated. "Why do you even care, Malfoy?"

"Is that not how 'acquaintances' work, Potter?" Draco's voice raised to match the intensity of his cheeks, this time red with irritation, "Are you the only one allowed to ask questions?"

Harry stared wide-eyed for a beat before letting out a short, loud laugh. This, of course, made Draco even angrier.

"Forget it!" Malfoy turned to leave, planning on doing so very dramatically, but was caught by the arm.

Harry held his hand to his mouth to keep from giggling and shook his head. "No, no, wait," He said, the words muffled. He really hadn't expected Draco to take his words to heart when they spoke in the motel room. "I get it, I get it." He took a breath and released Malfoy's arm, composing himself. Draco raised an eyebrow, suspicious of future laughter at his expense. Harry gave a small chuckle and nodded his head to the side, gesturing for Draco to follow. Sliding his hands in his pockets, Draco begrudgingly obliged.

They walked together around the pool, stepping slowly and deliberately. Harry thought about how he could explain his "home life", the oh-so brilliant Privet Drive. He could just imagine how Draco might react to that mess. Well, now that he thought about it, he didn't really know how Draco would respond. Would he feel pity for Harry? Or just laugh at him for such a pathetic situation? Knowing Malfoy, probably the latter. But, as he said, they were "acquaintances" now… For some reason, that word made Harry's stomach twist uncomfortably. It just sounded so… off. Which was a bit ironic, seeing as Harry was the first to use it.

Draco fidgeted next to Harry as they reached the back gate. He felt like he kept his hands in his pockets for too long, but didn't want to bring attention to himself by taking them out. Besides, what would he even do with them? He just felt all too awkward and jumbled and tense. Why was he so tense? He tried to shake the feeling off, but it just made him focus on the it more. He was so engrossed with looking composed that he almost missed Harry stopping a few feet before the gate. Harry sighed and leaned back against the fence.

"Okay, so… 'home life' was the question?" He rubbed at his neck.

Draco forced himself to look at Harry's face. "Yes," He said slowly, "But if you'd rather not…"

Harry shook his head, "It's fine. Just where to start is the issue."

"Well, what about that Marge character? What happened with her?" Draco inquired, shuffling next to him and leaning against the fence as well.

"Oh, her," Harry chuckled. "Well…"

Harry explained the incident preceding his third year. How his spat with aunt Marjorie ended with her blowing up into a mini parade balloon and drifting off into the air. He laughed at Draco's horrified expression when he described how each part of her body puffed up one by one. "Don't worry, Mr. Jameson doesn't know all the magic parts." Harry added.

He sighed and looked up at the black sky, still smiling at the thought of Marge floating helplessly in the clouds.

"... Did she really say all those things?" Draco murmured after a second.

Harry's smile was replaced with confusion, "Which things?"

Malfoy clicked his tongue with frustration, "The bit about your drunk parents and you being 'rotten' on the inside."

Harry's face flushed with anger, "They weren't drunks, th-"

Draco huffed, "I'm well aware, you git. I'm asking if she actually said those things!"

"Sorry, sorry," Harry rubbed his forehead, shielding his eyes in semi-embarrassment, "Force of habit… Yeah. She did."

Draco hesitantly patted Harry on the arm. "... I'm sorry."

Harry glanced at him from behind his hand before lowering it and leaning towards him, grinning slightly. "Is my pity story already making you fall in love with me, Malfoy?"

Draco blinked. "Oh, shut up, Potter."

Harry laughed. "Just kidding, Malfoy," He sang.

"... You set that up didn't you?" Draco tried to repress a smile.

"Nope! Just came to me," Harry said triumphantly.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "Well, the answer to that is obviously 'no' and -one of my favorites- 'you wish'."

Harry was about to send a witty reply his way, but Draco looked down at his feet and added, "But, either way, I don't think you're pitiful."

Draco waited for Harry to say something. When he remained silent, still leaning sideways towards him and frozen, he continued.

"I think you have a hard time… But you always treat everything as though that's not the case. You act like everything's brilliant, almost willing it to become so. You know how to make things easy most of the time. Well, not 'easy', I suppose. But you always know how to take action instead of dwelling on things for too long.

"Sometimes," Draco's voice dropped to a whisper, looking back up to Harry, "I wish I could be like that."

The corners of Harry's mouth twitched. He almost wanted to laugh and retort with a snarky comment. With Draco, it was his first instinct. But all he could do was lean closer, closer, closer. It seemed that's all he did since Draco checked in. He was constantly allowing this unexplained gravitational pull guide him closer to his newfound "acquaintance". Was it just him that felt this? Harry couldn't imagine Draco feeling anything but disdain for him. Although recent events could prove otherwise. Besides, it was difficult to think Draco hated him when he was leaning in just as much.

A small, nervous chuckle bubbled up into Harry's throat, but it twisted into something unrecognizable. He swallowed the noise back down. "Draco…" He managed.

Draco's stare was unwavering. His expression was a mix of pain and confusion and -Harry's breath hitched- almost want. He reached out to touch him, wanting to smooth the crease between his eyebrows. Draco breathed, about to lean into the touch.

"Harry! Thank God you're still here!" They jumped. Harry clenched his hand in the air, quickly straightening and staring wide-eyed at Mr. Jameson. A wave of déjà vu and irritation washed over him.

Harry cleared his throat, "Y-yes? What? What's happened?"

Mr. Jameson was panting, holding on to the building for support. He didn't seem to have noticed the moment between the two boys. "Eric cancelled. I need you to take the night shift. Can you do that?"

Harry nodded a bit too quickly, "Yeah, no- I mean, yes. I can. Sure thing."

Mr. Jameson gave him a momentary suspicious glance before sighing, "Thank you. Sorry for the late notice. I'm glad I caught you before you left. Your aunt and uncle won't mind?"

Harry laughed sourly, which earned him a glance from Draco. "They won't care. I'll go stamp my time card again."

Mr. Jameson nodded, leaving them. They stood there awkwardly, Draco's hands back in his pockets and Harry pulling at his hair. They deliberately avoided each other's gaze.

"Well-" Harry started.

"Yup."

"I'll just-"

"Yeah."

Harry mechanically walked back to the front desk, giving a quick wave to Malfoy. Something in his stomach twisted. A flush a red slowly crept up his neck and cheeks. He tried to think about mopping the bathroom floors or restocking towels, but all he could think about was Draco's lips and how delicate they looked slightly parted.


This one took a while to get through. Plus, midterms are coming up (And no I haven't used this story to procrastinate on homework [okay sorry that's a lie forgive me]).

Also, sorry, I know Mr. Jameson keeps interrupting. Let's be fair, though. Harry really needs to start doing his job.

Anyways, hopefully I can get the next chapter out soon. Feel free to review until then! I really appreciate all the comments I've gotten so far :)

-Bob