Chapter Two

When they arrived at the Burrow, Harry felt Malfoy tense up again. Harry understood, but he also knew that everyone seeing him and rushing to hug him all at once was just a temporary state. After the initial hellos, they were all going to turn the attention back to the bigger news: Ginny's engagement.

There was going to be cake for Harry and Neville, drinking and singing for Neville and Ginny, and after a while, Harry would be able to make his escape. He was glad to share the festivities with the happy couple; Harry really hated being the centre of attention anyway.

By the time they had arrived, the Weasleys and the rest of the attendees already knew about Harry's predicament. Harry could count on Hermione to make sure that everyone was on their best behaviour for Malfoy. Malfoy was doing a monumental favour for him and much to Harry's delight, they were all more than cordial with him.

"It's not so bad, is it?" Harry turned to ask Malfoy as the dessert was being served.

"No. Everyone's being really nice," Malfoy said; his tone was hard to read. There wasn't any sarcasm or disdain, but it didn't sound shocked or gleeful, either.

Harry looked at him, confused, and almost as though he was urging him to continue talking. Malfoy sighed in compliance. "I'm just not used to being around so many people, is all," he added. "I just see a lot of people at work, then I go home to a quiet dinner. But it's good. People watching." He smiled and looked over at everyone else.

He had a small smile on his face and he really was people watching. Harry couldn't help but smile with him and he looked away straight into Hermione's gaze. She gave him a look as if she was asking, "What are you doing, Harry?" He shrugged at her and took a bite of his treacle tart.

He didn't know what he was doing besides being really nice to Malfoy, because Malfoy seemed to speak house magic and he needed Malfoy's help. Desperately.

The evening was still in full swing when Harry saw Malfoy sitting in a corner, hiding a yawn. Malfoy probably had work the next day. So did everyone else. Hermione had already excused herself, so there was no reason for Harry to stay. It was nearing midnight and there were a lot of things to be discussed, like what time were they going to wake up? What time was Malfoy going to come home from work? And what side of the bed was Harry going to sleep on?

The last one wasn't as important as the others, but Harry still wondered about that. What side of the bed did Malfoy prefer? I usually sleep in the nude. Harry couldn't shake the words out of his head and he hated the way his cock reacted to that statement every time.

"Ready to go?" Harry asked Malfoy as he approached him. Malfoy looked embarrassed that he'd been caught yawning. He nodded and then stood up, taking Harry's arm.

"Floo or Apparition?" Harry asked.

"I am too tired to guarantee that we won't splinch," Malfoy answered, and they walked to the Floo. Malfoy's hand stayed on Harry's arm.

Harry said his goodbyes as they made their way to leave. Ginny and Neville both hugged Harry at the same time as he and Malfoy stood right in front of the fireplace. Malfoy let go of Harry's arm, but Neville's grip was too tight on the both of them.

"Take care of him, Malfoy!" Neville said, and they were all squished together in one giant group hug. "He's very important to us."

"Yeah, don't let the house eat him alive!" Ginny added. A moment later, both she and Neville erupted in laughter as though what Ginny had said was the funniest thing in the world. Even pissed, they made a cute couple. It was exhausting.

"No worries. I'll do my best to make sure Potter isn't swallowed whole." Neville and Ginny continued laughing as Malfoy turned to look at Harry.

Harry shrugged. "Let's go," he said and Malfoy nodded. A few moments later, they were back at Grimmauld Place.

0-*0 0-*0

Nothing had changed.

The room looked exactly the way they had left it. Harry wasn't sure if that was good or bad. At least the house wasn't destroying itself anymore. He still didn't know what was supposed to happen that would indicate that it was no longer on a self-destructive path.

"So, I'll just go and change then," Malfoy said, approaching the cupboard and pulled out a pair of pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt.

"Right." Harry looked over at the bed and then at Malfoy.

"I'd prefer to sleep on the outside," Malfoy said. "But we can alternate if you're uncomfortable." He must have understood Harry's hesitation.

"Er...sure. That's fine."

Malfoy turned and made his way to the bathroom, leaving Harry alone. He quickly grabbed his own clothes from his side of the cupboard and changed. Before Malfoy was back in the room again, Harry settled himself on his 'side' of the bed.

Malfoy's bed was firm and as soon as Harry's head hit the pillow, he realised how tired he really was. It had been a very long day. When he woke up that morning on his birthday, the last thing he'd expected was going to sleep on Malfoy's bed—next to Malfoy—but there he was. It was the most bizarre thing that had happened to him in a very long time.

He heard the bathroom door click and then open. Harry tensed up and shut his eyes. He felt the mattress dip as Malfoy's weight settled on the bed.

"You're doing it again," Malfoy said, his voice soft.

"Doing what?" Harry asked, opening his eyes.

"Getting agitated. You belong in this house. You have to remember that."

Harry turned to his side and looked at Malfoy who was sitting up and was reading over a parchment. Harry watched him as Malfoy shuffled two or three parchments in his hand and one that was resting in his lap.

Harry's eyes fell upon the faded Dark Mark on Malfoy's forearm. It was the first time he'd noticed it; Malfoy had been wearing long sleeves all day. Harry felt Malfoy tense up under his gaze. Harry quickly looked away.

"What are you reading?" Harry asked, keeping his eyes concentrated on the ceiling.

"Just some notes for my session tomorrow."

"Session?"

"My client is coming in tomorrow and we've got a healing session."

"I don't understand," Harry said, turning to face Malfoy again. He tried to stay concentrated on Malfoy's face and not look down to his arm, or anywhere else for that matter.

"I am training under Abigail Valera," Malfoy said, as though he was expecting Harry to know who that was. Harry shrugged. "She's only the most respected Reader in the wizarding world!"

"What's that?"

"Her speciality is non-organic magic. She focuses on magic in inanimate objects and what they're trying to tell us. I've got my very first one-on-one session with a client tomorrow. I have to assess why the client's garden doesn't grow any other flowers except for tulips." Harry looked at him confused again so Malfoy continued talking. "A client we have, can't share names, said that she tries to grow sunflowers and roses in her garden, but the plants quickly die. Except for tulips. Tulips tend to flourish and she wants to know why."

"So you can talk to the plants?"

"Well, no. I can feel the energy and try to evaluate what the garden is trying to tell this particular woman."

"So what is the garden trying to tell the woman?" Harry asked, almost sitting up.

"Well according to my research, the woman who lived there before my client was also a gardener, and tulips were her favourite flower. My client wants to grow flowers so she can sell them for a garden show, but she barely puts any energy into the work. She's really doing it for superficial reasons. The garden is basically rejecting it. Her ways are calculated, more methodical than emotional. So the garden is growing what it wants to. My mother taught me that—about gardening—giving your full attention. This one is actually rather simple to solve."

Harry scoffed.

"You don't believe that?" Malfoy asked, looking appalled. Harry shrugged again. "What about how we pick our wands or why this house is rejecting you..."

"So you're telling me you can tell what the house wants? The house has energy?"

"The house is trying to commit suicide!" Malfoy almost roared. "Of course the house has energy. Everything has magic around us. Just not everyone can feel it."

"Right," Harry said. He still wasn't convinced. He didn't know why the house was destroying itself, but what Malfoy was offering sounded too—simple.

"Here," Malfoy said, offering his hand to Harry. Harry raised an eyebrow and reluctantly gave his hand to Malfoy when Malfoy glared at him. "Sit up and close your eyes," Malfoy added.

Harry rested against the wall and crossed his legs. His right hand was in Malfoy's and Malfoy placed his left hand on the wall. "Now breathe in and out," Malfoy said and Harry obliged, still feeling rather silly.

It took a few minutes, but Harry felt a sort of energy travel from Malfoy's hand up his arm. The sensation was nothing like he'd ever felt before. It reminded him of the magic he felt when he was at Malfoy's flat earlier that day. Tiny bits of electric shock travelled up and down Harry's spine and he sat up straight.

"Shh..." Malfoy whispered, and Harry didn't dare open his eyes.

He felt sadness at first, then something dark, very very dark was encompassing around his heart. Malfoy squeezed his hand gently. "Relax," he whispered, and Harry untensed his shoulders again.

Harry hadn't noticed until then, but Malfoy was circling his thumb over Harry's wrist. As if he was trying to get the magic to flow and trying to get him to relax at the same time.

"Okay," Malfoy said and he broke the connection. He let go of Harry's arm and when Harry opened his eyes, Malfoy was looking at him intently. "Did you feel that?"

"Yeah," Harry said. Malfoy reached out his hand towards Harry's face; Harry hesitated back a little but allowed Malfoy to touch his face. He wiped away a tear. Harry didn't even know he'd started crying.

"What did you feel?"

"The house..." Harry hesitated. "It hasn't been a home in a very long time. Just saw darkness, death..."

"Abandonment." Malfoy nodded.

"It wants to destroy itself..."

"Because it's not a home."

"How did you make me feel that?" Harry asked, placing his hands under his legs, afraid to touch anything else.

"Everything has energy. You just have to know how to channel it."

"Anyone can channel it?"

"With practice. Yes." Malfoy smiled and shifted away to his side of the bed and began looking through the parchments again.

"That was something else," Harry whispered, more to himself than anything else. He heard Malfoy chuckle next to him, but he didn't say anything.

A few minutes later, Malfoy turned off his light and settled into bed. "Potter?"

"Yeah?" Harry said, trying to sound sleepy, though he was very awake and very aware of Malfoy's presence next to him.

"Happy birthday."

T B C