Thanks for another great response!
BloodyRose90- You caught on quickly!
FantasyFiend09 and WitchRavenFox- thanks for the interest in Mirabelle. She's not in it a lot, but she's definitely important
QuirkyKitty93- I'm glad you gave it a try. It's extremely hard to come up with new situations to put these lovely boys in. Everything has been done!
Thanks to cassy1994, DracoMalfoyIsMyLionI'mHisLamb, luvsallthingsslash, Vinkula, Duyon Blessed, da-blk-saiyangirl, and atlantis51 for reading and reviewing.
I apologize for having my anonymous review acceptance turned off for a while. I hope it didn't put anyone out. I was actually trying to force someone who reviewed a different story to sign in so I could respond. I have no problem with negative reviews, especially when they are valid. But I do like the opportunity to address the issue and explain myself. Or sometimes to thank the person for pointing out a problem that I need to fix. So, please sign in when you review :)
Day Three, Tuesday
Tuesday afternoon, after the shop closed, Draco approached Harry with another idea-a potion.
Unbeknownst to Harry, Draco had brewed an especially strong memory enhancing potion during the day. Deciding it was best to take on a full stomach, Draco prepared supper while he and Harry made small talk. As usual, the brunet had many questions, some of which Draco could answer fully and honestly, and some he dared not. Though they were enjoying the conversation, Draco was anxious to try out the potion.
"Is it going to hurt?" Harry felt like a pansy for asking. But after the pain he experienced with the charm, he was more than a little reluctant to try something else.
"No," Draco answered, then paused. "Well, it shouldn't, at any rate. I understand if you're wary."
Shaking his head, Harry replied, "No, I'll give it a try if you think it'll be all right. I trust you."
Draco felt a pang in his chest. Though he did not intend to hurt Harry, the hero of the wizarding world's trust was misplaced. Draco was in a position to completely manipulate Harry, and he wasn't even certain he could trust himself not to abuse it.
"I'll warn you, though, it tastes dreadful."
Harry took the small vial and upended it into his mouth, swallowing in one gulp. He gagged but kept it down.
Watching Harry closely, Draco asked him how he felt.
"Are you dizzy at all?"
Furrowing his brows, Harry said, "I don't feel any different."
"Are you remembering anything?"
"I don't think so. I can only remember things since I met you, and being a boy in my Aunt and Uncle's house."
"Could you remember that before?"
"Yes." He cocked his head to the side. "Maybe the memories are a bit clearer, more detailed. Unfortunately. My Aunt and Uncle are awful people sometimes."
"Why did you live with them?" Draco tested Harry.
Frowning, Harry told him, "My parents died in a car crash when I was a baby."
"They weren't killed by Voldemort?"
Suddenly, Harry got a blank look on his face. He stared, not seeing Draco so much as looking through him.
"Potter?" The blond waved his hand in front of Harry's face.
Slowly, the emerald eyes rolled back and Harry slid off the chair, passing out cold on the floor.
When he came to, Draco was sitting beside him as he lay on the bed. The grave expression on the Potion Master's face unnerved Harry.
"What happened?"
"You fainted. Are you all right?"
"A bit dizzy still, but I think I'm fine otherwise. I felt like I was on the verge of remembering something-something important. Then everything went black. I guess the potion didn't work either."
Harry began to sit up, but Draco's hand on his chest kept him down.
"Where do you think you're going, Potter?" Draco snickered.
"I thought maybe I'd make some tea."
"You stay," Draco ordered. "I'll make the tea. Besides, I'm a lot faster than you," he smirked.
He was right. In less time than it would have taken Harry to boil the water, Draco had a pot of piping hot tea on the counter, ready to pour.
Harry sighed. "I wish I could do that."
"You will," Draco assured him.
After finishing only half a cup, Harry decided he was too tired to stay awake any longer. He fell asleep almost instantly upon removing his glasses and pulling up the sheet around himself.
As Draco tidied up the kitchen, he periodically glanced at Harry. Not the seemingly invincible hero, but the new Harry. The innocent and naive Harry, who trusts Draco Malfoy, of all people. At times, Draco wished he could forget the horrors of the war, the murders he witnessed, the smell of death, the Dark Lord's touch on his skin.
Draco shivered at the thought. Once again, he had difficulty falling asleep, so he poured a glass of wine and settled in with his book until he was distracted enough from the unpleasant memories of the past.
〪o 〫O〬 o〭
Day Four, Wednesday
The next morning, Harry awoke with a yawn and a stretch. He opened up his eyes to find Draco still asleep in the transfigured chair with an open book resting on his chest and his mouth wide. It was the first time Harry had seen him completely relaxed and unguarded. He watched the book rise and fall slowly and rhythmically. Draco's hair was uncharacteristically unkempt, plastered down over an eye on one side, while sticking up straight on the other. Harry smiled to himself, thinking it was nice to know the man wasn't so perfect as he seemed.
A heavy breath signaled that Draco beginning to wake, and the book slipped from his body onto the floor as he shifted slightly. The loud slap of the binding hitting the hardwood woke Draco with a start.
Blinking, Draco looked around, disoriented at first. It had only been a few days since Harry wandered into his shop and he still hadn't gotten used to sleeping on the chair.
"Morning," Harry smiled.
"Good morning," Draco mumbled. "What time is it?" he groaned.
"Half-eight," Harry said. "I wasn't sure if I should wake you up or if Mirabelle would open the shop."
"It's Wednesday. We're closed Wednesdays," Draco informed him, then yawned.
Harry grinned. "So we have the day free?"
Draco answered, "I have some errands to run. I suppose you could come with me. I'll show you around Diagon Alley. Perhaps something there will jog your memory."
〪o 〫O〬 o〭
They both readied themselves for the day and prepared to go. Draco decided to treat Harry to breakfast at one of the cafes. While they ate scones with cream and jam, and drank tea, Draco pointed out some of the nearby storefronts. Harry was fascinated by the menagerie. He'd never seen a store that sold owls. Or rather, didn't remember seeing one.
"I have a few potions to deliver," Draco said. "But after that, we could go into any of the shops you'd like."
Harry looked around. "I'd like to look in that bookstore."
"All right," Draco smirked. "I also want to take you to Twilfit & Tattings. It's a clothing shop. If you're going to be representing me in my business, I want you to look the part."
Harry looked down at himself. He was wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing for the past couple of days-Scourgified clean by Draco, of course-a fitted blue t-shirt and jeans.
"What's wrong with what I've got on? I don't look okay?"
Draco thought Harry looked fine. In fact, perfectly fine. But he wasn't about to tell Harry that.
"What you're wearing is fine for a day off. In the shop, I'd like you to wear robes. Like what I wear."
"Oh. All right." Though Harry thought he'd feel silly wearing them.
"Perhaps we could find some new trousers and shirts for you to wear in your downtime, as well," Draco suggested.
"I promise I'll pay you back."
"We'll worry about that later. Are you about finished?"
Harry nodded, then glanced at a man who appeared to be watching them.
"Drake," Harry whispered. "Sorry. Draco. That man over there seems to be staring at us. Do you know him?"
Draco turned around to find Ron scowling at him. Ron quickly looked away.
"Unfortunately, yes. That's Ron Weasley. His family and mine have been at odds for years," Draco said, conveniently leaving out the fact that he was also Harry's best friend.
"Well, I don't like the look of him," Harry grumbled.
Smiling to himself, Draco wondered how different things would have been if Harry and Ron hadn't become friendly before Draco had a real chance at Harry.
Having been caught looking at the pair once again, Ron made his way to the table.
"Malfoy," he said disdainfully.
"Weasley," Draco returned, equally so.
"Keeping out of trouble?" Ron turned his attention to Harry. "And who is your friend here? I don't recall seeing him before."
"Am I to report all of my new employees to the Ministry now?" His cool demeanor belied his nervousness at being found out.
Ignoring Draco's jab, Ron asked Harry, "What's your name?"
"You don't have to answer that," Draco cut in.
"Redmond," Harry replied with an insincere smile.
Inwardly pleased that Harry sided with him, Draco smirked at Ron. "Satisfied? Now be on your way Weasley. You have no right to harass me and my guest here."
"You'd better keep your nose clean Malfoy," Ron retorted.
After Ron walked away, Harry said to Draco, "He wasn't very nice. Why did he give you such a hard time?"
"He's an Auror. He thinks it's his job to give me a hard time."
"An Auror? Like me?" Harry questioned. "Are all Aurors such great prigs?"
Draco laughed, "I used to think so." He wasn't sure if Harry caught his meaning but he didn't want the thought to linger. "We should go, if we want to complete all of our errands today."
First Draco took Harry with him to the private residence of a regular customer. The woman there requested a special potion that she seemed reluctant to discuss in front of Harry. After that, the pair apparated, with Harry as a side along, to St. Mungo's. Normally, Draco filled orders for the hospital in bulk. A representative from the hospital came by twice a month to pick up orders. This day, however, Draco was making a special delivery. A particularly virulent case of Doxy poisoning was admitted and Draco had brewed a double strength batch of the antidote.
"Where should we go now?" Draco asked. "Twilfit & Tattings or the book shop?"
Harry scratched his head. "I guess the clothing shop," he said reluctantly. "I have a feeling that I don't care much for clothes shopping. Let's get that over with."
The bell over the door chimed gently as they walked in. A young woman, smartly dressed, approached them.
"Good morning Mr. Malfoy," she smiled. "How can I help you today?"
"Good morning Elizabeth. Actually, it's my friend here that requires your expert attention." Draco knew flattery was always the best way to get the best service. Elizabeth usually tended to him, and though he had an eye for fashion himself, she never steered him wrong. She always managed to include just the right accessory.
Elizabeth eyed Harry up and down, pursing her lips.
"Hmm. Nice build. Not too tall. Are you looking for casual or dressy?"
"Casual," Harry said at the same time Draco said 'dressy'.
Laughing, Elizabeth offered, "How about a bit of both? Just give me a moment."
Harry rifled through a nearby clothing rack and a price tag caught his eye.
"Thirty galleons? What's a galleon? Isn't that pirate money?"
"Shhh," Draco frowned. "It's not pirate money, it's wizard money," he whispered.
"Is thirty a lot for a shirt?" Harry asked.
"Don't worry about it. This is my treat. If I'm going to force you to dress for me, the least I can do is pay for it."
Harry opened his mouth to protest.
"End of story," Draco said sternly.
Just then, Elizabeth returned with a pile of clothing for Harry to try on.
"Dressing room is this way," Elizabeth pointed, and led Harry toward it. She turned around and stopped Draco from following. "You wait here," she smirked. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he models for you." She winked and continued behind Harry.
The first ensemble Harry put on was a pair of tan trousers and a crisp button down shirt with medium blue and tan stripes. She added a light blue tie with brown spots surrounded by smaller, yellow dots.
Draco wrinkled his nose slightly. He was not a fan of the look on Harry. Usually, Elizabeth was spot on.
"Don't you have something more . . . flattering? Something to . . . um, bring out his eyes?" He leaned close to her so Harry wouldn't hear.
"Mr. Malfoy," she lowered her voice. "There is only so much I can do with mousy brown hair and mousy brown eyes. With freckles to boot!" She was a bit insulted by Draco's request.
"What?" he frowned. Then it occurred to him that she was seeing the glamoured version of Harry. Quickly backpedaling, Draco apologized. "On second thought, you're correct as usual. I suppose I'm simply not a fan of the color brown. But could you indulge me and bring out something with purples or greens? I would so appreciate it," he smiled.
As she began to walk away, Draco called out to her, "And perhaps something in black, as well?"
Harry looked at his reflection. He didn't know what the fuss was. Clothes were clothes.
"Drake, really, this is fine. I don't need to try on anything else."
Draco rolled his eyes.
"Oh, I did it again, didn't I?" Harry asked. "Sorry."
"It's all right. You can call me Drake. Since my name is so difficult for you," he said sarcastically.
Secretly, he liked having a nickname. But of course, he made it seem like he was granting Harry a huge concession.
Harry tried on the rest of the clothes Elizabeth had chosen. Though still not completely right for Harry's coloring, they were more tolerable than the first outfit.
Elizabeth came back with another load of clothes, and dragged Harry back to the dressing room. She made him come out each time he changed outfits to show Draco. Though Elizabeth expressed that she did not favor the deep purple and hunter green paisley button down, Draco nodded his approval. Again, Harry thought it was fine, but didn't care much either way. The blue jeans, on the other hand, he thought were too restricting.
"I think you brought me the wrong size," Harry said, tugging at the seat of the jeans.
"No, that's definitely your size," she replied.
"They're awfully tight," Harry frowned.
"Exactly," Elizabeth grinned.
Draco kept unusually quiet about the subject, considering that he had thus far had an opinion on everything else.
Harry emerged from the dressing room several more times wearing various shirts, including a red one and varying shades of khaki, and several different accessories, such as shoes and belts. Finally, he appeared modeling the black clothes Draco requested. At that point Harry was tired of clothes shopping and was anxious to go to the bookstore. He stood in front of the mirror and sighed.
"Good enough?" Harry asked Draco, behind him in a chair, looking at his reflection in the mirror.
"Quite," Draco said quietly.
Harry couldn't help notice the way Draco's eyes traveled up and down his frame, and became extremely self-conscious.
Draco cleared his throat and addressed Elizabeth.
"Wrap up the lot. Minus the red shirt and the brown and blue striped. And if you could choose two robes for him to wear at the shop." He saw the look of frustration on Harry's face. "You don't have to try them on."
"Good," Harry breathed out heavily. "I'll go change."
"No," Draco said, a bit too fervently. "Um, why don't you just leave those on. You must be tired of wearing the same thing day after day," Draco suggested in an effort to keep Harry in the formfitting outfit.
Harry looked again in the mirror. He did like the shirt. Unlike the others, it had a short, stand-up collar and small silver buttons. The black jeans were just as tight as the other pair, but the way Draco stared when he thought Harry wasn't looking, made him want to keep wearing them. At first, disconcerted by the thought, Harry decided it wasn't strange at all to want to please the man who was doing so much to help him.
"All right. If it will get us out of here faster, I won't bother changing."
Harry watched as Draco handed over what appeared to be a great deal of money, including a lot of gold.
"Maybe we should have gone somewhere less expensive," Harry whispered.
"Nonsense," Draco waved a hand.
Elizabeth handed Harry two large bags full of clothing and smiled. "It was a pleasure to dress you. If only all of my customers were in such fine shape as you and Mr. Malfoy."
Harry could feel himself blush.
The men left the clothing store and turned down the alley toward the bookstore.
"Thank you," Harry said. "I . . . I hope I really can pay you back."
"I've already told you. Getting new clothing was at my insistence," Draco reminded him. "I don't expect you to pay for them."
"Well, if I pick out some books, I'll pay you back for those," Harry insisted.
Draco smirked, "Have it your way."
They stepped into Flourish & Blotts and were immediately greeted by a sales clerk.
"Good afternoon gentlemen," the clerk said with a smile that looked fake to Harry. "Is there something I can help you with?"
Harry could feel his heart beat a little harder as he contained the anger growing. He watched the man sneer at Draco while looking him up and down. Draco, however, remained cool, and smiled back, in an equally artificial manner.
"Thank you, no. I'm sure we can manage."
Draco hooked his arm around Harry's and pulled him away.
"Did you see the way that man looked at you?" Harry said as he kept glancing back at the clerk and scowling.
"Don't make a big deal about it, Potter," Draco whispered. "I'm so used to it by now that I don't even notice."
"But he was so rude. And you didn't even do anything to provoke it," Harry protested. "And I thought you weren't supposed to call me Potter," he whispered back.
They stopped in front of a large bookshelf.
"You're right, I forgot. Look, it's just the way things are. I have a less than stellar reputation thanks to my involvement in the war."
"War? There was a war? When?"
Draco closed his eyes and touched his fingers to his forehead. It was difficult for him to remember all the things Harry had forgotten.
"Yes, and I'll tell you all about it. But for now, suffice it to say I have not been forgiven by many for being on the wrong side. Even though I was a child, and forced, and feared for my life."
"But you've become an honest businessman. You're so kind. I don't understand why people wouldn't forgive you."
"Because that's just the way people are. It's easier for them to continue hating me than to take the time to find out who I am now," Draco lamented.
"Well, I think they're missing out," Harry told him.
"Thank you," Draco smiled sadly. He felt a twinge of guilt at Harry's praise. He wouldn't exactly call himself kind. And he was, after all, using Harry for his own advantage. But he was also trying to help Harry. At least he hoped Harry would see it that way when he regained his memory.
"So, what are you interested in?" Draco asked Harry.
"What?" He noticed Draco's gesture toward the bookshelf. "Oh, I'm not sure."
"Then why did you want to come here?"
"I see you reading. I figure I should too."
Draco snickered, "You must be interested in something in particular."
Harry thought about what he'd like to read. What was it that most piqued his curiosity?
"Are there any books on that war you told me about?"
Panicking for just a moment, Draco quickly came up with a response that he hoped would discourage Harry from pursuing that subject.
"Yes. But I'm afraid they're all rather biased. I'd prefer to tell you about my family's involvement myself. It's not a flattering tale, but I'll tell it honestly. As honestly as I can from my point of view."
"After seeing that clerk's reaction, I understand," Harry said. "Then what should I read?"
"How about a potions guide," Draco suggested.
"Don't you have books about potions?"
"Yes, several. However, they're all above your level. Perhaps a beginner's guide to ingredients would be more appropriate." He selected one from the front display of bestsellers and gave it to Harry. "If anyone should question it, you could say it's for a niece or nephew."
Harry blinked. "Do I have a niece or nephew?"
"You're an only child. Unless you count that dolt of a cousin you grew up with. Honestly, I have no idea if he has children or not."
Harry wanted to ask Draco just how much he knew about Harry Potter. Sometimes he seemed to know more than he let on. But Harry was enjoying the company and didn't want to stir up trouble.
"What about something a little less academic? Like a novel?" He asked instead.
Draco walked Harry to the fiction section. He shrugged. "Pick one."
Looking at the vast amount of books in the cases, Harry began choosing books based upon, ironically, their cover appeal. He read the back jackets for quite a while until he found one that appealed to him. He chose a novel about a pair of young lovers-one a wizard, the other a muggle, and their struggle to stay together.
Draco peered over his shoulder, breathing slightly on Harry's neck. "Really? I didn't take you for a romantic," he snickered.
"Oh, I, uh . . ." Harry put the book down on the table next to him. Draco picked it back up and handed it to him.
"Don't let me discourage you. It's not my taste, but I'm not making fun."
Reluctantly, Harry took the book, but placed it under the potions book so no one would see it. He followed Draco to another section of the store. Harry looked up to see a sign labeled 'Biographies'.
"Is that what you've been reading all the time?"
"Mostly," Draco answered. "But sometimes I enjoy a good fiction. Usually mysteries, though."
"Ooh, maybe I should have gotten a mystery novel," Harry said excitedly.
"Don't worry, I have plenty at home that you can read."
Draco picked a book about Godric Gryffindor, then directed Harry toward another section.
"Who's Godric Gryffindor?" Harry cocked his head to the side to read the cover of Draco's pick.
Smirking, he answered, "He was one of the founders of the wizarding school we attended. I've never taken the time to learn much about him. Actually, the House you were in was called Gryffindor, named for him."
"Oh. Were you in Gryffindor as well?" Harry asked innocently.
Laughing out loud, Draco stopped in his tracks. "I'm sorry. If you only knew what a ridiculous question that is." Draco wiped at a stray tear that escaped during his laughing fit.
Harry crossed his arms over his chest and frowned.
"Oh, Harry, I really am sorry for laughing." Draco placed a hand on Harry's arm. "My house was notorious for being rather . . . unscrupulous and conniving. Yours was known for courage and bravery. The thought of me being a Gryffindor . . ." Draco began laughing again.
Though he wanted to be angry with Draco for laughing at him, Harry couldn't help smiling. It was the first time he saw genuine heartfelt laughter from the normally stoic man. His elusive smile was dazzling.
"Come on," Draco said, taking Harry by the arm. They turned a corner and bumped, literally, into Luna Lovegood.
"Well, hello," she said, in the same melodic tone her voice had at Hogwarts.
Draco nodded. "Lovegood."
"How is the potions business these days?" she asked politely.
"Very well, thank you. And how . . . are you?" He had no idea what Luna had been up to for the past few years, though he had spotted her in the bookstore several times since leaving Hogwarts.
"I'm planning another trip to Sweden, hoping to find a Snorkack this time." She looked at Harry and cocked her head to the side. "And who are you? I don't recall seeing your face in here before."
Draco nearly flinched at her choice of words.
"This is Redmond, an associate of mine," Draco answered for him.
Luna looked at Harry closely, making Draco nervous. If anyone was going to spot a glamour on Harry, it would be Loony Lovegood. She seemed to have a sense for oddities.
Harry grew uncomfortable under her scrutiny and was ready to bolt, when she finally stopped and blinked.
"You might want to do something about those wrackspurts. Well, it was nice meeting you."
Luna was on her way before Harry could respond.
"Who was that?" he asked his companion.
"Luna Lovegood. She always was a bit wonky."
"What are wrackspurts?" Harry asked worriedly.
Draco shrugged. "She's often claimed to have seen things that other people don't. Or perhaps things that aren't actually there," he snickered. He took a few steps, eyeing the bookcase.
Harry wandered a few paces away scanning the shelves up and down. As he made his way down, he leaned over, inadvertently giving Draco an eyeful of his finely shaped arse in his new snug black jeans.
Trying his best not to look, but failing miserably, Draco took a moment to appreciate the sight before him. He did, until the realization that it was Harry Potter's arse he was admiring, hit him. He tore his attention away from an oblivious Harry, and resumed his book search.
"Ah, here's what I'm looking for," Draco slid a small, black leather bound book from its place and added it to their order. "Let's take these to the register and get out of here. We've been at it for hours, and I'm ravenous." Draco's eyes widened at his unintentional innuendo. "Shopping, I mean," he blushed lightly.
Whether Harry ignored Draco's comment, or didn't catch the faux pas, Draco was thankful that Harry didn't remark on it.
"Yeah, I'm kind of hungry as well," Harry was loath to admit. He knew Draco would suggest going out to eat and didn't want him to have to pay for Harry's supper.
Draco paid for the books and suggested a muggle pub for an early dinner. He had taken to frequenting muggle establishments, as they treated him with more respect than many wizarding ones.
He apparated them to a quiet neighborhood street with a few places of business peppered throughout. He reminded Harry that because it was a muggle pub, they should refrain from talking about magic while at the Sheepshead Inn.
The pair sat in a corner booth, with their purchases from the day piled in next to Harry. Because of the packages, Harry was forced to sit a little closer to Draco than he would normally. He found that he didn't really mind.
All through supper, Harry asked questions about Draco's personal life. He wanted to know about his family and friends, what sort of childhood he had, what other passions he had, besides potions. Draco answered the best he could, without giving away too much information. Even if it wasn't Harry Potter asking him, he'd be reluctant to open himself up too much.
Since Harry couldn't remember anything since his own childhood, Draco limited his questions to life at the Dursley home. He was very curious as to Harry's life since the war, as Harry himself managed to elude the papers for the most part. But that would have to wait until Harry regained his memories. If he was still speaking to Draco when he did.
"It must have been lonely for you," Draco commented. He realized why Harry would have disdained him in school. Draco had everything he could ever want. He had attention and material goods lavished upon him, while Harry clung to the very few belongings he had.
"Oh, don't feel sorry for me," Harry smiled. "Apparently I got out of there and I've got a good job now. Right?"
"Yes," Draco said.
"So my life couldn't have been all that bad." Harry's optimism was almost painful to witness. Draco knew Harry's life had been difficult. More difficult than anyone should have to bear.
"Drake?"
"Huh? Sorry." Draco's mind had wandered into the past.
"I know you know more than you're telling me. I can see it in your eyes. Maybe you think I can't handle it, and maybe I can't. Yet. But I hope you'll be able to be completely honest with me some day." Harry gave him a sympathetic smile.
"You're right. I do know more about you than I've told you. But what I know is from my own perspective. I'm sure you have a completely different point of view."
Harry nodded. "That's probably true."
"I don't want to muddle your mind any more that it is already by giving you inaccurate information, and I'm doing my best not to influence you too much. But I'll answer any questions you have," Draco said with reluctance.
Draco figured Harry would ask him about their mutual past, about the war, and about Ron. He also figured that their budding friendship would end once he did tell Harry about those things. He owed it to Harry to be honest. He just wasn't going to volunteer the particulars unless the brunet asked.
To his surprise, Harry said, "Whatever you think is best. Perhaps I'm not ready to know everything yet. I'm having a hard enough time with what I've learned so far."
The small bits of information he'd gathered thus far indicated that the two of them hadn't got on well in the past. And Harry Potter sounded a bit like an arse. He was happy to remain blissfully unaware of what a great prick he may have been. Harry was also afraid of losing the developing rapport and chose not to press the issue. Much to Draco's relief.
That evening, Harry enjoyed reading his novel while Draco studied the book he chose about memory. Reading about people whose problems seemed worse than his allowed him to forget his troubles for a while. Every so often, he glanced up to watch the concentration on Draco's face. Harry was very grateful for all that this handsome stranger had done for him. And he was surprised by how quickly he felt comfortable in Draco's presence.
〪o 〫O〬 o〭
Ah, blissful ignorance. Sorry, no sneak peaks this chapter. I'm still working on the next chapter. Let me know your thoughts. Thanks for reading!