Harry followed Hermione through the aged front door, into the gloom of Grimmauld Place, Draco at his heels.
The three of them stood on the threshold, frightened of what may be lurking in a gloomy corner, or in the next corridor. The smell of damp fabric wafted into their noses, making Draco splutter and sneeze. Harry stifled a laugh at this and took a step forward, his wand ready.
"It seems to be fine," he told the other two. "It doesn't look like-" Harry broke off at the sound of shuffling footsteps coming down the stairs.
"Who's there?" Harry called, pointing his wand towards the staircase. Relief swam through him when he saw the aged house-elf, Kreacher squint at him from the third step from the bottom. Kreacher muttered something to himself and made his way to the kitchen.
"Ugh! Who was that?" asked Draco in disgust, wrinkling his nose at Kreacher.
"That was Kreacher," said Hermione, snapping the front door closed. It seemed she was satisfied with the safety of the house.
Draco said nothing more, and followed Harry up the stairs. Hermione lingered at the foot of the staircase before making her way to the kitchen. Harry rolled his eyes. He knew she was going to try to befriend Kreacher, despite the fact that the elf hated her because she was of Muggle parents.
"This was Sirius's house," Harry told Draco, indicating their surroundings. "Dreadful place to be cooped up for him…" sighed Harry.
A flicker of mourning and deep sadness flashed in Draco's eyes. Harry felt embarrassed- he didn't want sympathy.
"Well anyway, I'll show you to where you'll be sleeping," said Harry, continuing to the upper levels of the house.
"God, how many floors does this place have?" panted Draco when they'd finally reached the fourth floor.
"Six I think," replied Harry, turning his head to look to the still higher levels.
Harry pushed open the door to one of the larger bedrooms in the house and lead Draco into the dust-encased bedroom. The bed was king sized and the window stretched from floor to ceiling. Draco's took in the deep red wall paper, and his eyes came to rest on the huge bed. He glanced from Harry to the bed and back again.
"Um, so…" Harry leaned on the door frame, puzzled by the sudden silence.
"Thanks Harry," said Draco. "And where are you sleeping, then?"
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Right next door, actually," he said, smirking to himself.
"And… and, what about Hermione?" asked Draco subtly.
Harry wasn't buying his innocent-natured questions, but answered them all the same.
"She's down two levels," said Harry, straightening up. He had a feeling Draco was planning some night time visits, and he evidently didn't want to be caught out.
"Exc- I mean, okay, cool," said Draco, now striding into the room.
"Yeah, well I'll be downstairs if you um, want… me," said Harry, purposely lingering on the word 'want'.
As he had suspected, Harry found Hermione crouching beside Kreacher's cupboard, trying to convince him to come back out.
"Give it up, Hermione," sighed Harry, "He's not worth your time, really."
"Let him free, then!" snapped Hermione, standing up.
"What, so he can go and blab to the Death Eaters about everything the Order planned while they were using this place as headquarters? I don't think so," retorted Harry.
Hermione frowned at him, defeated. She changed the subject, "Speaking of Death Eaters- how did they find us at my house?"
Harry drew back a chair and sat in it, thinking hard. "I have absolutely no idea," he said, messaging his forehead with his right thumb.
"Harry, you don't think you don't think it was," Hermione dropped her voice, "Draco?"
"WHAT?! Hermione, how dare you accuse him! Do you have any idea what he went through to escape from his parents to come with us?" said Harry with a bit more viciousness than he had intended. "If anyone is suspicious, it's Ron," Harry finished, leaning back in his chair.
Right on cue, Draco strolled into the room, looking from Harry's angry face to Hermione's guilty one. A slight crease appeared between his eyebrows as he looked from one to the other. He shrugged it off.
"Any chance of food? Apparition often makes me hungry," said Draco, sitting down opposite Harry.
Hermione jumped up and busied herself with making them all an early dinner.
Later that night, Harry stirred in his restless sleep as someone silently entered his bedroom. Draco closed the door as quietly as possible and hurried towards Harry's bed. The blankets had been pushed off, and in his sleep, Harry had twisted himself into the sheet so it entangled his legs.
Draco stared down at Harry's peaceful figure, sitting ever so gently on the edge of the mattress. Draco sat and watched Harry for what felt like an age. This was his paradise and no one could take it away from him- not yet at least.
After an hour or so of gazing at Harry, Draco noted that Harry's boxers laid on the dusty floor next to the bed. So he slept naked… the very thought caused a tingle in Draco as he too removed his own pants and climbed as gently as he could into bed with Harry.
"Wassmatter?" muttered Harry sleepily, waking up at the sudden appearance of another body in his bed. Harry blinked in the moonlight, frowning hard at Draco's face, trying to make out who he was.
"Draco? What-?" Harry's question was cut off as soft lips met his own.
Draco placed a hand on Harry's bare chest, the other hand under Harry's head. The pair kissed passionately, exploring each other's mouths with their tongues. Harry felt himself start to get aroused, but Draco pulled out of the kiss as he felt the hardening organ against his inner thigh.
"Not tonight, Harry," he said apologetically. "I didn't come in to you for sex. I'm… I don't think I'm ready yet." Draco stared intently into Harry's eyes.
Harry nodded and pulled Draco's head to rest on his chest. Harry stroked his hair, staring absent-mindedly at the ceiling. After a few minutes, Harry heard Draco's breathing become deep and steady. He'd fallen into a peaceful sleep.
"I love you…" Harry whispered, wrapping his arms around Draco, gently squeezing him into his chest.