Fic: No Hiding Place book Three: The Cottage (6/28)

[sua_lay]

Title: No Hiding Place: Book Three: The Cottage (6/28)
Author: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - ?
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Three: -Does being a good guy mean you also have to be a nice guy? Draco is about to find out. Companionable silences and fist fights are a good way to hide deeper emotions.
Warning: This part contains mild violence, explicit sex between men, confusion about sex (not non-con really!) and as you can guess, angst. .

The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.

Part 6

Harry felt like crap the next morning.

He'd slept poorly, dreaming about things that made him jolt awake in the middle of the night. He had no memory of what he'd dreamed of, but he was willing to bet that they'd been nightmares. Why else would his heart race when he sat up, the sheets twisted around his legs?

It had taken him some time to fall asleep again, and even then he hadn't slept well.

Casting annoyed looks at Ron, he stomped downstairs. Sometimes he really couldn't handle cheery people this early in the morning.

Eppy served them breakfast, looking as grouchy as always. She muttered to herself as she left them to eat, banging the empty tray against the door as she wobbled to the kitchen. The usual sight made Harry feel an odd kinship to the old house elf. At least she wasn't overly eager to work and be happy about it.

He ate in silence, not paying attention to the others. Ron was way too perky. He didn't care about Malfoy. And Snape... Somehow he felt uncomfortable under the dark gaze, so he kept his gaze on his cup, mumbling monosyllables every time Ron asked him something.

It was probably the most awkward meal they'd shared.

The sun was making its way high in the sky by the time Harry walked out to use the outhouse. It was a relief to get out, to leave the tension behind.

He spent a few minutes staring at the stream, his gaze going to the exact spot they had bathed in yesterday. There was something about that memory nagging at his mind. Probably the terror he'd felt when he'd spun around and thought he was going to see Death Eaters barging at them. He was certain it had been that terror that had haunted his dreams as well.

Shivering with cold, he finally went to take care of more pressing business.

After he finished, he stood there, tucking himself in. Returning back to the cottage felt somehow impossible. There were chores to do and things to study, but he simply couldn't go there yet.

Harry slammed the wooden lid down and then sat down on the seat.

This was ridiculous. He had no idea why he was feeling so annoyed all of a sudden. No, it wasn't simple annoyance. Frustration, the need to do something. Still, he sat here, not wanting to actually do anything about that restless feeling right now.

The Potions exam was probably the biggest reason for his odd feeling of unease. He wished they'd just get on with it. Spending a lot of time in the dungeons reading had to be enough. He wasn't a complete idiot. If he concentrated and tried not to ramble in his answers, he could pass the test.

Snape would probably make it really difficult and ask about some weird footnote on page four hundred on the most boring textbook. It was just like the man. In class, he was absolutely ruthless. Outside of it he was... Occasionally naked.

Harry groaned at the thought. He was wrong. Maybe he was a complete idiot. Sitting here in the smelly loo and thinking about Potions and nasty Potions masters. Yes. He was an idiot. A moron. A cretinous half-wit.

He would have to ask Snape for more useful terms to label himself with.

"Hey did you die in there?" Ron banged the side of the outhouse. He'd waited for Harry inside, but when he hadn't come back in ten minutes, he'd started to worry.

Of course the fact that Malfoy was bustling around the living room was making him irritated. Since Snape was there supervising his attempts to clean the windows, Ron had decided to just leave instead of making a few nasty but accurate comments about the bastard.

Harry jumped at the sound and then sighed. He should have known he couldn't have privacy anywhere. "No. Just a moment." He didn't want Ron to know he'd just been sitting there, thinking. He'd probably think he was insane. Hiding in a loo.

"Sure." Ron kicked the moss on the ground, trying not to seem too annoyed. "No hurry."

He'd felt so great this morning. There had been no dreams, so he'd woken up refreshed. He'd refused to think about Malfoy, happy to see that Snape wasn't forcing them to work together.

Everything was going to be all right.

"So. What are we supposed to do today?" Stepping out of the outhouse as if nothing special was going on, Harry looked at his friend. He was ready to start working. At least it would take his mind off everything else.

Ron shrugged. "Take out the rugs. There's supposed to be some clothes lines between the trees over there." He made a wide arch with his arm, ending up pointing at the small grove.

"Is that for just the two of us, or..." Seeing the answer in Ron's eyes, Harry smiled a little too. At least he didn't have to listen to the constant griping and bickering. He didn't mind Malfoy growing back his backbone, but he didn't want to listen to him and Ron fight. "And the others are doing something else?"

"Yeah. Malfoy's cleaning windows and Snape's doing something about the loo." Ron was actually not all that unhappy about the way things had turned out. There was no way he could have made any kind of a potion that would take care of all the problems an outhouse caused. With him, it would have probably meant a shovel and a scented rag over his nose.

For once, he was not griping about Snape and his potions.

Harry nodded. "Okay, so we just take out the rugs?" That sounded a bit odd, considering all the work Malfoy was doing.

"Of course not. You think Snape would ever actually give someone a break?" Ron was certain that would be the day when pigs would fly and professor McGonagall danced on the Head Table. With the Headmaster. Wearing pink dress robes.

The mental image was rather sickening.

Deciding against repeating that their dreaded professor was really not all that bad -- certain it wouldn't have any effect this time either -- Harry just shrugged. "Okay. So what do we do?"

"Well, after dusting the rugs, we'll make lunch, since apparently Eppy has other things to do." It had sounded like a very lame excuse, but Ron wasn't sure what it could be hiding. After all, Snape wasn't likely to force a house elf to have a day off. Not even one as old as Eppy. "Then clean our room and make dinner."

"Doesn't sound too bad." It could have been worse. Much worse.

Ron grunted. It wasn't as bad as he'd expected, but then again, Snape was a bastard. He'd probably have them scrub the floor with their toothbrushes tomorrow or something as pleasant as that.

"You know, if we'll have to cook today, we can eat whatever we want to." Eppy didn't seem to be interested in little things like desserts. Harry had actually missed the dinners at the Great Hall. The thought had brought a smile to his face. "How about some baked chicken for dinner and then maybe something for dessert?"

That made Ron grin broadly. "Sure!" All thoughts about a certain nasty Potions master using them as a slave labor vanished from his head as he walked back to the cottage with his friend.

"Okay, let's get to work."

There were surprisingly many rugs in the cottage. Ron scurried upstairs to gather the ones up there. He didn't think he could handle with the small room near the doorway. Even if Snape weren't in there, he wouldn't want to go anywhere near that place. The whole thought gave him the creeps.

Harry worked silently, trying to stay out of Malfoy's way while rolling up the huge living room rug. He watched the way one muttered word made a small film of soapy water cover the window before Malfoy raised the rag he was holding, wondering if it was really that simple. He'd washed windows back at Dursleys' and it had been hard work, carrying bails of water around and wiping all the suds off, polishing the glass until it shone.

Considering the look on Malfoy's face, this wasn't exactly easy either. Still, he never complained.

Finishing with the striped green and pale yellow rug in the hallway, Harry straightened himself and then looked at Snape's door. He was feeling strange. Nervous. As if going in there was somehow difficult.

He stood there for a moment, wondering why he was suddenly skittish about Snape. After all, they hadn't spoken about what had happened at the river after coming back to the cottage. He doubted they'd talk about it now. Snape wasn't the kind of man who'd want to talk about his past or Voldemort. It was actually a wonder he'd said as much as he had.

Harry hated the feeling of unease. This whole thing felt stupid -- no, he felt stupid. Following Snape to the riverside had been important to him. It didn't matter that the man was probably more than capable of taking care of himself, he simply didn't want to risk anything. It had been a logical decision to go with him.

Ogling at him while he bathed, well that had been foolish.

Seeing him without clothes wasn't the point. Harry wasn't sure what was. It couldn't be the fact he'd helped Snape with the potion, couldn't be the companionable silence they'd shared on their way back. Something was making him feel weird.

Pushing the uncomfortable feeling away, he knocked on Snape's door. "It's me. I'm here to take your rug out." The words made him grimace a little. Of course Snape already knew that.

"Come on in, Potter."

Harry walked in, looking a little sheepish. "Hi." He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this nervous around someone. Even his teenage crush to Cho hadn't really made him act this foolishly.

"Watch out for the books, they're rare." Gesturing with his hands at the heavy volumes piled on the floor, Snape nodded at Harry. "Try not to break anything."

The words made Harry smile. As if he hadn't heard that before. "I've never broken anything in your rooms yet, Snape." Seeing the challenging look, he amended, "Well, you know. The Potions classroom doesn't count."

"I'm glad to hear about your upmost respect towards Hogwarts property, Potter."

Since Harry was pretty sure he couldn't really say anything about that, he just snorted and then went to roll up the rug. He did make a show of moving the books out of way one at the time, careful not to even jostle the thin layer of dust from the one on top of the pile.

He didn't exactly hurry out of the room, but didn't feel the urge to linger either.

The morning passed quickly as he and Ron dusted the rugs. It wasn't hard to guess of whom Ron was thinking while he used the carpet beater on the rug. It was better than hitting the blond Slytherin, so Harry didn't say anything.

It was actually fun to dust the rugs. There weren't so many of them to make it feel like a real job. Also, the vigorous work out seemed to be just the thing they needed. Harry was definitely feeling better as they walked back to the cottage.

Preparing the lunch wasn't a big ordeal. Eppy kept the storage area clean and well stocked, probably using some house elf magic. There were plenty of things to choose from. Ron seemed to be in gastronomical heaven, making plans for the dinner already.

He kept babbling about it when they made simple sandwiches for lunch. Elaborated as they cleaned their room. Painted pictures of mounds of hot and greasy food as they brought the rugs back in. By the time they actually got to make dinner, Harry was ready to hex his friend.

Mostly because of the excessive plans would inevitably fall to him to fulfill.

Ron was a surprisingly bad cook. He didn't seem to have any idea on the basics of cooking. The thick sandwiches they'd made earlier were probably the extent of his skills.

It didn't really matter. As Harry went to work on the chicken, Ron chopped onions and carrots. He was pretty good at boiling water as well as carrying a heavy sack full of potatoes around the kitchen.

For a brief moment Harry could sympathize Snape. It wasn't easy to suffer people who had no idea what they were supposed to do.

He could understand Ron's ineptitude, though. His mother was an excellent cook, but since she had seven children to tend to, it was no wonder she didn't have time to teach them all how to cook as well. Harry couldn't really imagine Ron being enthusiastic about spending time in the kitchen and learning either. He'd probably spent all his childhood running around with his brothers, dreaming of Quidditch.

Smiling crookedly, Harry went on grinding the spices.

The dinner was served a bit late that day, but it was worth the wait. Eppy was nowhere to be seen, probably resenting their invasion on her domain. It was probably a good thing, since everyone dug in with enthusiasm. She would have been even grumpier after seeing that.

Harry smiled at the thought, wondering if Dobby knew Eppy. If not, he'd have to introduce those two to each other.

Having finished with the windows a few hours earlier, Draco had spent the rest of the day assisting Snape with his potion. He was exhausted as he sat at the dinner table, keeping his gaze on the food.

This was definitely not the kind of life he wanted. Remembering all the boring old tales professor Binns had told them, he wondered if this was supposed to teach him about the values of honest work. If so, it was a waste of time.

Not paying any attention to the people around him, he kept shoveling food into his mouth, barely tasting anything. He was definitely not going to spend the evening reading. As soon as he finished eating, he'd drag himself upstairs and try to collapse in bed. If he missed, he was sure the floor would be a comfortable place to sleep in.

Harry kept his eyes on Malfoy, looking for any signs of the old arrogance. He didn't really know what to think about him. The burning hatred had evaporated some time ago. After facing Voldemort and his Death Eaters, Draco Malfoy had just seemed to be a pathetic jerk, who was happily strolling towards his own doom.

That was no longer an option for him. Harry wondered if there'd be some kind of a change in Malfoy. If he'd become a real person instead of being a cliched bully.

Remembering how much fun he'd seemed to have all the time he'd humiliated and insulted others, he rather doubted Malfoy would ever be a person he'd like. But he would have to live with him.

That would be all right. He'd lived with worse.

It didn't look like he was going to go back to his old ways. At least not now. Malfoy seemed completely happy eating, not even making offensive comments about the chicken.

Harry cleared off the larger dishes when everyone seemed to be almost finished with their food. Then he brought back the tray they'd laden with delicacies found at the back of the cupboard. Placing it down on a table, he couldn't resist grinning at Ron. This was indeed a good deal, and if every dinner could end like this, he'd be willing to spend more time working in the kitchen.

The small tray full of desserts made Snape raise an eyebrow. Eppy had never served them sweets with meals, so now that the two Gryffindors had had the kitchen for themselves, he wasn't at all surprised they'd indulged in every sort of craving a growing boy might have. There were some of those foolishly named sweets people always seemed to spend their money on in that ghastly shop in Hogsmeade. A chunk of good old chocolate. And even a small bowl of...

Snape couldn't resist it. Grabbing the bowl, he offered, "Sherbet Lemon?" the sneer audible in his voice.

"Gwaaah?" Trying to squeal out the question, Ron dropped his fork and promptly started choking on the last piece of bread he'd stuffed into his mouth. It took some serious heaving until he cleared his airways.

"Well, thank you Snape. Awfully kind of you." Harry smiled sweetly as he accepted the bowl. "How about you Malfoy? Care for some?"

Draco was having some problems with breathing as well. Shaking his head vigorously, he reached out for a glass of water, his hand trembling slightly. He was determined not to splutter like Weasley.

Placing the bowl back on the table, Harry couldn't help looking at Snape. The flash of an evil grin on his face brought one on Harry's as well. Sometimes it was fun to shake people's convictions.

For the first time since the previous day, Harry felt the tension slip completely away.

The sweets disappeared quite quickly from the tray. All three teenagers looked happy as they munched various delicacies. Snape ate a bit of chocolate as he sipped his tea, not entirely pleased with the combined taste.

A true wizard, he had still missed the soothing taste of chocolate, always connecting it with healing.

Funny how he'd never thought about it before, but in all the years he'd spent with the Death Eaters, he'd never seen anyone eat chocolate there. They had indulged in every vice from drinking to illegal substances, but that simple pleasure had been missing.

He didn't have to think of a reason. It was quite obvious to him why none of them had wanted to think about Hogwarts or home or healing while serving the Dark Lord.

The thought lingered as he finished his tea and then walked back to the living room. Staying here was almost lulling them all into a false feeling of security. None of the threats of the real world had followed them here. Even he had pushed the memories of the masked figures to the back of his mind, not wishing to think about them now.

Ignorance could mean death to him. To all of them.

It was good that Harry had asked him to tutor them, this way he could do something useful. But after his students passed the exam -- and what a surprise it was to realize that they were all moderately well read -- they should start preparing for the reality waiting for them back at Hogwarts.

This was no real vacation, no matter how nice it had been to pretend for a while that it was.

Ignoring the clatter coming from the kitchen, and the tight expression on Malfoy as he came to sit by the fire, Snape wondered if they could ever actually sit and talk about the war. He knew Harry was able to think about their situation with a clear mind, aware of the cold facts of life.

With Malfoy and Weasley, it would be different. He doubted Weasley could let go of his anger. All of the redheaded Gryffindors had been stubborn, but this one seemed to take the trait to extremes. Not that he really blamed him. Young Malfoy could be a real bastard if he wanted to. Just like his father.

There lay the problem with Malfoy. He could be anything he wanted, but would he want to choose the hard way and start acting like a real human being or would he simply fall back into arrogance? Not that there was anything wrong with a healthy amount of arrogance, but like with Weasley and his stubbornness, sometimes there seemed to be no end to Malfoy's ego.

It would definitely be a problem. Instead of holding relatively quiet and reasonable meetings like the ones they'd had in Hogwarts, there would probably be shouting matches and signs of petty jealousies here.

Not something he was looking forward to.

Having finished with the dishes, Ron and Harry walked out of the kitchen, both looking exhausted. Harry curled on the other couch immediately, while Ron cast a suspicious look on Malfoy. He'd never seen him sit on the floor before, and wondered if he was up to something.

Trying to act as if he didn't notice the cold stare, Draco kept staring at the flames.

Snape's gaze was sharp as he watched the two boys. It was easy to understand the enmity between them. After all, it had been somewhat similar between him and certain Gryffindors when he'd been a teenager himself. He doubted things would have gone like this if he hadn't joined the Dark Lord, though. Fighting on the same side might have changed things between him and Black and Potter.

It would have taken a small miracle, but he was sure they would have survived working together, even if most teenagers were incompetent idiots who allowed their hormones control their behavior.

He glanced at Harry. How amusing that the one person he'd always considered as the most irresponsible of them all would actually be more mature than others his age. He could remember the things young Malfoy had done to him. If anyone had the reason to be mad at him, it was Harry. But he didn't hold a grudge.

Probably because he had more dangerous enemies than Draco Malfoy.

Weasley was not like that. He seemed to seethe with anger every time he saw Malfoy. Made angry comments even when not provoked. That could be a problem.

Snape was definitely not going to watch the rage simmer just below the surface for long. If these boys were both Slytherins, he'd order them to work things out. They wouldn't like it, but they would obey him no matter how much they hated each other. Weasley wouldn't obey his orders. Things would just get worse.

"I think you'd better spend Sunday reading. You'll need it, all of you." He knew how good Malfoy was in Potions, but even he could study more. "So we finish the cleaning tomorrow."

"Thank Merlin!"

Astonishingly, it was Malfoy muttering that out loud. Harry smiled a little and nodded. For once he completely agreed with him.

Ron felt the relief himself but didn't allow himself to nod. There was no way he would ever admit he shared a feeling with Malfoy.

Pretending not to hear the sigh, Snape went on, "So tomorrow, Potter, you'll sweep the floors. You should be familiar with the broom by now." Self control prevented his face from revealing actual amusement as he could see from the glint in the green eyes that Harry thought his comment was hilarious. "Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy. You'll do the laundry."

The silence that followed his words was shocked.

Snape simply stared at the two horrified boys. No, he wasn't going to order them to work things out, but he was going to force them to work together. They might get into a fistfight or two, but eventually, they would have to deal with their anger.

"Sir! We... Him..." Ron was getting really tired of not being able to finish a sentence. He stared at Snape. No, he was not joking. He really wanted him and Malfoy do the laundry. Together.

Gritting his teeth, he glanced at Malfoy, feeling the familiar irritation as he saw the blond nod. Of course he would nod. That stupid arse-kisser would never question Snape.

"Mr. Malfoy has probably never done laundry." It was definitely not a question. Snape knew for a fact that Lucius' precious boy had been shielded from this side of life. "I'm certain you will show him how to do it, Mr. Weasley."

He could feel the tension grow in the room.

It was so much like back in the Potions class, he couldn't help a malevolent smirk. Those two would probably try to kill each other when they were out of sight. He wasn't really worried. Young Malfoy knew better than to really harm Weasley.

Ron was almost shaking with anger. Did Snape really think he could handle spending the day at the riverside with Malfoy? He'd probably drown him before lunch time.

He didn't want to say anything, certain he couldn't get past the splutters before Snape made a comment about Gryffindor intelligence. Nothing he could think of would change his mind. Snape was like that. Always predictable in his sadism.

"Remember to keep constant vigilance while you're out there." Sometimes even old crackpots like Moody got things right.

Harry cast a worried look at Ron. He didn't think he'd be able to pay attention to his surroundings while he was out there with Malfoy. The two of them would be too busy bickering.

He tried very hard not to think about the fact that he was going to spend the whole day alone with Snape in the cottage. It was making him feel weird, as if he should say something to make things better. He had no idea what that would be.

"It will be a busy day tomorrow. I suggest you all go to bed." From Snape, the suggestion sounded more like a command.

"Yes, sir." Malfoy rose to his feet immediately. He padded across the hall to the door and slipped out, heading for the outhouse.

Ron was grumbling silently, but didn't actually let out any words. It would be futile to complain anyway. His opinions never seemed to matter. If he protested about the plans for tomorrow, Snape would probably just think of more chores he could do together with Malfoy.

"Okay." Stretching a bit before getting up, Harry added, "Good night, Snape. Come on, Ron. Let's go upstairs." It was best to go before Malfoy returned.

Still grumbling a bit, Ron ignored Snape's nod and quiet 'good night Potter', and followed Harry. He wondered what made Harry be so damn polite to the professor all the time. He wasn't as bad as Malfoy who was obeying the man's every word, never talking back to him but it was starting to annoy him anyway.

Something nagged at the back of his mind, but he couldn't really put it into coherent thoughts. Probably just the tingling feeling running down his spine, warning him not to turn his back on the Slytherins.

He hated it. Absolutely hated being thrown together with Malfoy, hated having to do whatever Snape told him to do.

Mind filled with annoyance, Ron watched Harry walk into their room. Instead of following him, he stood still, waiting for Malfoy. He had something to say to him and it couldn't wait till tomorrow.

Soft footsteps echoed in the staircase and then Malfoy stepped to the hallway. He didn't look at all surprised to see Ron waiting. "Weasley."

Even the name sounded like an insult. "Shut up, Malfoy, and listen." Ron wanted to make something absolutely clear. "You're not going to spend tomorrow ordering me around. Or napping while I work. I don't care if you've never done laundry before. Try to make me do all the nasty work and I'll drown you. Get it?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Of course." He bit back the nasty comment coming to his mind, but didn't moderate his tone. Snape was right. Acting like some repentant soul of darkness wouldn't change anything.

It suddenly hit him that Snape did actually speak out of experience. He'd done things he could only have nightmares of and everybody knew that. Still, he didn't crawl in front of anyone. Most people in the wizarding world probably loathed him anyway, but at least he had some self respect left.

"Well, just make sure you remember it tomorrow!" Ron couldn't help saying that.

Something inside Draco snapped. He raised his gaze to Weasley's eyes, knowing well that he was expected to scurry away. He was not going to listen to this anymore. "You don't have to repeat things to me like I'm one of your housemates, Weasley. I'm neither deaf or dumb." Hearing the venom in his voice made him feel good.

Ron's eyes widened in shock. It had been weeks since he last heard Malfoy actually talk back to him like that. "Shut the hell up, Malfoy," he growled.

"I don't think so. If you want to act like an ass, go ahead. Just don't expect me to listen to your piss poor insults."

It was so familiar; the sneer in Malfoy's voice, the superior attitude. He'd always been like that, saying that he was so much better than anyone else because of his money and his father, making fun of him and his friends. Sucking up to Snape. Ron was sick of it. "Fuck off, Malfoy." He couldn't help it. His hand squeezed into a fist and he stepped closer to Malfoy.

This time, Draco didn't walk away. Staring at Ron, he stated coolly, "Don't push me, Weasley."

"Don't tell me what I can do!" Life would be so much easier if Malfoy just didn't exist. There was something in him that made Ron's blood boil. He hated the sensation, knowing he was losing control every time he thought about the git. There was just something in Malfoy that made him see red.

He moved even closer.

Draco stared at him flatly. He'd had enough of being Ron Weasley's punching bag. No amount of self hatred and guilt would make him run away, or stand here and take the blow. "Don't. You hit me and I..."

"You what?" Contempt clear in his voice, Ron taunted, "You go and tell Snape that the big bad Gryffindor is harassing poor innocent you?"

"No. The next time you hit me, I will hit you back." It was said softly, but the words were still menacing.

Ron froze. There had been no anger in Malfoy's voice. It had been calm, stating a fact.

The air was full of unleashed violence. All the anger both of them had inside was going to explode in pain and blood any second now.

Downstairs, a door was banged closed. The loud sound seemed to jolt Draco out of the haze. He snorted and then turned around and walked to his room. It didn't look as if he was running away. He was deliberately turning his back on Ron as if to show he wasn't afraid.

Ron stood there for a moment. He wanted to scream, but was certain that wouldn't be a good idea. He wouldn't show his frustration to anyone, especially Malfoy.

Still almost shaking with rage, he tried to calm his breath. It took him a few moments to feel like facing anyone. With a nasty glare at the stairs, he turned around and walked to the room he shared with Harry. If only Snape hadn't banged the door downstairs... He would have probably smashed his fist into Malfoy's face.

Even if it would have lead into a fight, he would have the satisfaction of seeing the sneer wiped off his face.

Harry was already sitting in bed under covers as Ron stepped to their room. He watched Ron walk to his bed, wondering what the angry voices coming from the hallway had meant.

"What was that all about?"

Pulling off his trousers, Ron said, "Nothing. Just Malfoy bugging the hell out of me." He tossed his socks on the floor. It wasn't as cold as usually, so he could sleep without them.

"Oh." Not that Harry was surprised. He'd thought the two of them would be arguing again, remembering what Snape had told Malfoy earlier.

"Yeah. I can't believe I have to spend tomorrow with the bastard."

"Try not to kill him, Ron." Harry was only half joking. He knew how much his friend hated Malfoy. "I bet he's trying not to be a complete bastard. He's not a bad guy. Not one of Voldemort's people. Just leave him alone, okay?"

It was sad how much the words hurt Ron. "Can you honestly say you don't hate him? That you don't want to get back to him about all the things he did to you?"

Harry thought for a moment, remembering everything Malfoy had done to him during the years. The baiting, the mocking. Scaring him half to death by dressing up as a Dementor. Causing Gryffindor to almost lose the House Cup the previous year with his lies.

That was all in the past. There were worse things in life than petty insults. At least Malfoy had never tried to kill him, unlike his father and his goons. Malfoy had walked away from something he'd probably seen as the fulfillment of his whole life. That took guts.

"Yes." Feeling sorry for Ron, Harry nodded. "I can say that. He's annoying and childish at times, but he's not a Death Eater. I can't waste my time hating idiots, you know. I have enough problems with Voldemort and his people."

Ron tensed. He couldn't believe this. Seeing Harry talk to Snape as if the professor was just... just a guy was bad enough. This was so much worse. He was almost starting to sound like him.

"I can't hate him anymore, not after all that's happened." Harry knew that Malfoy would probably prefer him hating him than the twinge of pity he felt. "But I'm not saying you can't. Go ahead and do, if it makes you feel better."

"It does!" It was just a growl.

Harry doubted that, but didn't say anything. He just nodded. "All right. I still mean it, Ron. Try not to kill him." A small smile appeared to his lips. "If you do, then you'll have to do all the laundering by yourself."

"Yeah. Will have to wait till we finish with the laundry." Muttering to himself, Ron lay down. He didn't want to fight with Harry. He'd much rather fight with someone he hated. One blond haired pest came to mind immediately.

A soft chuckle echoed in the room. "Good idea. Night, Ron." With a mumbled 'nox' the room became a playground of shadows, the only light coming from the almost full moon shining through the window.

"Night, Harry."

---

Comments

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

Eeek! Now I see Draco as a boyband member yelling Draco's back allright!

*hides*

Of course Draco still has a long way to go, lots of rough edges and so on. And poor silly Harry. He's going to be so surprised...:D

[nicholsa.livejournal.com]

*giggles* boyband Draco...that's scary. Funny, though...Someone should write that crackfic. Of course he has more to go, you're making sure of that. I just really missed his snarkiness..meek and timid doesn't really fit!

I like surprises...*grin*