Powerless

Harry woke up from a dreamless sleep as the birds chirped outside. He stretched his arms out as he gave a high-pitched groan. He hadn’t slept so well in a while. With all the auror missions, interviews and charity events he had to be mindful of, Harry felt like he hadn’t had a break in years. The feeling of waking up and having nothing to do feels foreign to him now. He feels at peace. Or at least he would if he hadn’t remembered Draco Bloody Malfoy was sleeping mere feet away from him. Technically. Actually he was on the mezzanine above him, but Harry considers the fact that he can hear him breathe sign that they’re too close. 

He tries to forget the unfortunate situation he’s in and enjoy his morning. He looks out the window and enjoys the scenery. The cabin he’s in is surrounded by beautiful spruce trees covered in heavy snow. 

He heads to the kitchen and fixes himself a cup of coffee.  

I wonder if Malfoy is awake. Whatever it’s not like I want him to come and bother me- 

“You seem awfully chipper, Potter.” His name was spat like venom. 

“I was until you came around.” Harry said with sarcasm and an exaggerated smile. 

Malfoy scowled at him. “I’m just making myself a cup of tea and going back to my room to work.” 

“Work?” Harry inquired with genuine confusion. “You can’t work from here you’re an auror.” 

“How insightful Potter thank you.” Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Unlike you, some of us have to maintain a certain level of intellect to keep our jobs and rise through the ranks. I know hard work might be a foreign concept to you, but I need to study.” 

Harry felt his heart ache at his words. Harry did work hard. He wasn’t some sort of charity case to the government as opposed to what people might think. He was a strong wizard. Why do I care what Draco bloody Malfoy thinks. Fuck him. 

“No need for all the rudeness Malfoy. I don’t give a niffler’s ass what you do with your free time.” Harry said harshly.  

The kettle whistled loudly as Draco, with an unreadable expression on his face, calmly poured water into his mug. 

God this is awkward. 

Malfoy then slowly walked up to the mezzanine, tea in one hand, spell book in another. 

Harry spent the afternoon with no worries about Malfoy. He decided to read muggle books, taking interest in one titled Frankenstein. He also spent quite some time on the cellphone Hermione threw at Draco before vanishing.  

Harry learned how to take pictures and how to text. 

HERMIONE 

Text Message 

Mon, Jan 23 

ji  > 5:32 

hi  > 5:32 

im slightly miserable and would love to get news about the dolohov situation. warm regards, harry.  > 5:34 

also I slept on the couch > 5:34 

“Potter!” Malfoy called from the mezzanine. He rested his elbows on the railing and peered down at Harry. He didn’t seem to harbor any feelings about their dispute earlier. Probably in a day's work for a Malfoy. 

“I want to shower. Do you know if there’s any hot water in this dump?” He asked nonchallantly. 

“I wouldn’t know any more than you would Malfoy.” Harry replied simply. 

Malfoy hummed unaffectedly and Harry heard him enter the bathroom. 

Harry heard the water running as he read through Frankenstein. 

Merlin, that pompous bastard has been taking a shower for the past half hour- he thought to himself as he put his book down and walked to the living room. He didn’t notice it before, but there’s a huge suitcase next to the couch he woke up on. He opens it up to find that it’s filled with clothes. There are a few pairs of pants but there’s mostly sweaters, which is fitting considering it is January. 

His exploring was cut short as he heard the bathroom door slowly open. 

“Potter...” Malfoy called from the second floor. “Do you think you could bring me a change of clothes please, I forgot to bring any.”  

They both hadn’t changed out of the clothes they were brought in yesterday, Harry now noticed. 

This guy acts like an asshole until he needs something, go figure. 

He picks up a cerulean blue knit sweater and a pair of brown corduroy pants and heads upstairs. 

 He gets to the bathroom door and knocks. “Draco I’ve got clothes for you, open up.” 

“Leave them in front of the door, thankyou...” 

He sounds almost embarrassed. Harry ignores the weirdness and leaves the clothes on the ground, thinking about what he’ll make for dinner as he heads back downstairs. 

“Potter” Draco called as he came down the stairs. “Did you know this dump doesn’t have a hair dryer?”  

Harry scoffed as he opened the fridge door. “Yes, that is quite the tragedy Malfoy.” 

He grabbed a jar of tomato sauce and closed the door to find Draco on the other side, leaning against the wall. 

This is the first time Harry has taken the time to look at Malfoy. He didn’t really process anything when he was kicking and screaming or trying to break a window with a chair. Malfoy looks... good. His hair has gotten longer, it stops at half of his back. He really grew into his features; he somehow looks even more regal than he did before. He also grew taller. Merlin, he’s almost 6 feet tall. Harry had only seen him in an occasional Daily Prophet article and even then, he was always wearing a mask to cover his face. Even though he’s in the top ten best aurors in the Ministry, he really isn’t very popular with the people. He’d be a lot more well liked if people saw how hot he’s gotten- 

“Staring problem, Potter?” Malfoy asked snarkily. 

Harry swallowed hard and escaped the other’s piercing gaze as he started walking towards the stove. “N-no, you’ve just gotten taller is all.” 

Why do I feel so nervous all of a sudden? 

“What are you making?” Draco asked with a tone of disgust, peering over Harry’s shoulder. 

“Spaghetti. I just need to boil the pasta and then add the sauce.” 

“So, am I going to have to eat muggle food for the entire time I’m a prisoner?” Draco asked with sass. 

Harry chuckled. “Well, it’s not so much muggle food as it is prepared like a muggle. It’s super simple even without magic. Look, just stir this while I make the meatballs.” 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Draco scoffed as he grabbed the tool and began mixing slowly. 

“Wow, I was sure you would try throwing yourself out the window again before even thinking of cooking like a muggle, I’m impressed.” 

“Shocked that anyone other than you can change Potter?” Draco asked sassily. 

“Hardly.” Harry smiled. 

They both proceeded to make spaghetti in what Harry thought was a surprisingly comfortable silence.  

“It’s ready! I’m famished.” Harry proudly served two bowls of spaghetti and placed them at the dinner table. 

Draco simply stood in the kitchen awkwardly as harry sat down at the table. 

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” Harry asked as he took in a mouthful of pasta. 

“Don’t patronize me, Potter.” Draco snarled as he carefully sat at the table. 

He looked at the plate in front of him and clumsily tried to cut up the pasta, all while maintaining what Harry would describe as a royal composure. 

After a few moments of simply watching Darco, Harry chuckled. “You don’t cut it Malfoy, you roll it.” 

“I’ll eat however I please, thank you.” He replied sassily, ignoring Harry and confidently putting spaghetti on his fork, only for it to drop back onto the plate as soon as it got close to his mouth.  

Harry snorted, and he didn’t know if his eyes were playing tricks on him, but he could've sworn he saw Draco blush. Interesting. 

“Just, show me.” Draco demanded impatiently. 

“Ah yes, I’m tempted now that you’ve asked so nicely.” He rolled his eyes and theatrically pointed to his fork, to his plate and spun his utensil into the pasta. 

Draco reluctantly followed. 

They both ended their meal in silence.