Chapter 7
Draco sort of expected to immediately notice a difference in Potter's behavior now that he knew something was off. However, nothing seemed to be different. Draco had even brought a little notebook along to compare with the book.
The only real difference Draco saw was the fact Potter seemed to be spending a great deal of his free time completely absorbed in a book. When questioned about it by any of his colleagues he went crimson, stuttered an excuse and slipped the book in his bag.
Unfortunately, while whatever Potter was reading that he seemed so embarrassed about was minutely interesting, it was not proof for any creature one way or another.
It was when he got twitchy that Draco finally noticed a difference.
It was not in any way abnormal for Potter to be twitchy. It is his near-constant state of being after all. Potter not being a fidgety mess would be far more out of the ordinary than him being one.
No, it was the way he started slowing down by Draco's desk. He didn’t say anything. Just walked by, trailing a finger across the wood before leaving. It was barely noticeable, except Draco had always been good at noticing him hadn’t he?
But once Draco let that happen without acknowledgment, Potter seemd to get braver. Moments later he returned repeating the motion. When Draco glanced up with a raised eyebrow he flushed and turned away averting his eyes and pretending like he wasn’t hovering weirdly.
Draco jotted that down as attention seeking behaviour. He felt like it fit the book even if it wouldn’t narrow it down widely.
He still came back, now he had confirmation Draco noticed him. This time he brought something with him. A small chocolate. Potter placed it on his desk as subtly as he could manage, which really was quite subtly for Potter, Draco muses, he had never been subtle before but now if Draco hadn’t been paying explicit attention he wouldn’t have noticed the chocolate till much later..
He places the sweet treat in his mouth. It's a rich dark chocolate with a decadent orange filling. Draco had to know where Potter had gotten it. He put that as a side note in the little journal.
~~~
Later, as Draco was doing some of the most annoying data entry he had ever had the displeasure of doing, Potter returned a folder in hand looking nervous.
Draco acknowledged him this time, curious about the apparent anxiety on the mans face, “Can I help you, Potter?”
He seemed shocked he was noticed- looking around the room as if trying to discern someone else Draco could be talking to. Draco blinked slowly waiting for him to respond.
“Oh, well, um-” Potter stuttered for several moments, “You looked rather bored.”
“I am…” Draco didn’t know where exactly this conversation was getting to…
Potter glanced to both sides nervously… “I have my office rigged to play music… If you’d like to come do your work in there?”
Draco squinted at him trying to figure out what exactly to note that down as in his notebook. Potter took his pondering as confusion towards why he was asking.
“I thought I could do with some company… and we’ve really barely spoken and we’ve worked together for quite a long time…”
“Sure Potter…” Draco put as much casualness into his tone as he physically could.
Potter blinked owlishly, not seeming to be expecting him to accept his offer.
“Oh- alright, follow me then…” Potter started walking at a brisk pace towards his office, muttering something under his breath about insufficiencies.
Even with Draco’s long legs, he failed to catch up with Potter to further understand his grumblings. He did however catch a glimpse of dark ink peaking out of the top of the back of his shirt.
He didn’t know Potter had tattoos?
***
Harry was not prepared for Malfoy to actually accept his offer. What was he thinking? His office is a mess. Malfoys going to hate it. He wanted to bang his head into a wall. Stupid.
Several profanities coursed through Harry's mind, he could’ve planned this so much better. Now it’s going to be awkward, and Malfoys going to judge him and he’ll never go anywhere with him again.
A separate calmer side of him points out that no one cares how clean his office is. Malfoy’s not going to notice if it reeks of stale coffee and staler muffins. This voice is instantly shouted over by the panic. There wasn’t even a competition for who Harry really heard.
He walks into his own office holding the door for Malfoy and pulling the second chair closer to his desk to utilize the surface. Harry cringes at the paper coffee cups littering his desk. He vanishes them wandlesly as he walks in kicking the open drawer with Malfoys sweaters shut.
Malfoy walks in looking analytical. Harry wants to hurl himself into the Thames.
“You can choose the music… I don’t mind either way.” Harry gestures towards the ‘Jukebox’ Well it used to be a jukebox. Now its completely empty of any wiring it used to have. Just a box with a music amplification charm and a screen to choose the music.
Malfoy strolls over with– what Harry's brain screams is deserved confidence (of course Malfoy is confident strolling around Harry’s space. He belongs here.) and chooses a song.
Its a common tune that's been on the Wizarding Radio for some time now and Malfoy settles into the chair that Harry had pulled out for him and returns to his work.
At first Harry struggles to follow in suit. The urge to watch Malfoy much stronger then the calm that was radiating off of him. But as Malfoy focuses further, starting ro hum the song quietly under his breath, Harry relaxes, until he too is finally, after actual days of just watching Malfoy like a creep, able to focus again long enough to do his own work.
It was massively relieving. Harry sank into the work Malfoys presence melting in with the rest of the room. Just one of the things that makes this Harry’s space.