Warm, Steamy Showers
It took almost a half hour of walking to get to Draco's cabin, and as they walked Harry found himself getting lost in the way the other man looked. His hair had grown out since last year, leaving it rather messy and falling just under his ears. There was also something different about the way he walked now, less the cocky saunter that had been so present at Hogwarts and more of a stroll. The dog, Shadow, kept bumping his nose at Harry's heels as he walked, which meant he had to walk sort of bent over so he could pet him and give him the attention he obviously needed.
Nothing was said on the way to the cabin, although nothing really needed to be said. Harry was too caught up in his own thoughts to make any sort of coherent conversation, and as it had been almost three weeks since he'd talked to another wizard, the silence might have been for the better. It was peaceful, more peaceful than Harry had ever felt in the presence of a Malfoy.
They walked through trail after winding trail until finally the ground opened into more of a path and Harry could glimpse the top of a roof ahead. It was wide enough here to walk two-aside, so he sped up and settled in next to Draco. The other man gave him a bit of side eye, but Harry simply pretended he was to engrossed in looking at the cabin to notice.
Draco's abode was bigger than Harry's, and looked like it had at least one more floor. Where Harry's cabin had warm, dark side paneling, Draco had cool toned stone. Harry had huge windows that oversaw the forest, whereas Draco had thinner, arching windows every couple of feet. They were both homey, unmistakably so, but in very distinct and different ways.
Something about Draco's seemed prettier.
Shadow bounded ahead, making it to the front door much faster than the walking men and barking excitedly. Draco laughed, and Harry couldn't help but glance over at him, cheeks flushing slightly. The blond genuinely looked happy gazing at his dog, eyes sparkling with mirth. It was a different look on Draco, but one that made that tight feeling in Harry's chest soften.
The door was unlocked with a muttered "alohomora" from Draco, and Harry grimaced as he realized he'd left his wand at his cabin. It wasn't usually needed for hiking, but right now he felt bare without it. It was a strange feeling, and he hesitated at the doorstep.
"Come on," Draco said impatiently, looking back at Harry, and the wizard somewhat reluctantly stepped into the house. It was more warmly colored on the inside, the floor a dark brown-red and the furniture mostly different shades of cream. The atmosphere was not altogether unwelcoming, and Harry felt himself relax as Draco led him to the kitchen.
"I'll make some soup or something," Draco muttered, leaving Harry to perch on a stool and watch him work. Several minutes passed in silence as the wizard conjured up pots and pans, turning on the oven and leaving a broth of chicken, carrots, and peas to boil. "So," he said after a bit, turning back to Harry. "Where are Granger and Weasley? Back at your cottage?"
Harry snorted. "Back at Hogwarts, more like." Draco cast him a curious glance and the dark haired wizard forged on, explaining. "They didn't feel the need to come here. I mean, they just weren't affected by everything like I was. I could barely stand to be around them after it all happened. Ron lost a brother, yeah, but he has his whole family and a girlfriend to lean on. I was... alone."
Draco rested his arms against the other side of the counter Harry was sitting at and watched him intensely, motioning for him to go on when he paused. "I thought after everything that happened I would want to go back to Hogwarts, to be with my friends and be at the place I called home. But the emptiness of it all was maddening. Every time I walked into the Great Hall all I could see were dead bodies lined up in rows, staring up at me with their accusing eyes. And no one understood. I couldn't talk about Voldemort because no one cared. He was dead to them, but to me..."
"He had shaped your whole life," Draco said softly. "Ever since you were a kid he was there, a looming presence in the background, and no one really could comprehend how it felt to have him be gone. Empty sounds like you miss him, which is wrong in so many ways, but there was a gap where the Dark Lord used to be."
Harry nodded fervently, leaning towards Malfoy a bit. "And no one else felt the gap. My life was built around killing him, and I was supposed to stop him before anyone else died, but I didn't. I couldn't stop him from killing them all." Tonks, Remus, Colin, Fred...
"At least you tried," Malfoy said quietly, and without thinking Harry reached out to take the other man's hand.
Draco yelped and yanked his hand away as soon as they touched, pulling it to his chest. Harry sat up straight, snapped out of the conversation and somewhat shocked by the other man's reaction. "I'm sorry, I thought--"
"You're absolutely freezing cold," Draco spat, obviously trying to calm himself down. "Go take a warm shower or some shit, I don't want you freezing to death in my kitchen. People will think I murdered you." Harry tried to protest, but Draco said "go!" rather loudly and he thought it best to obey, getting up and speed walking out of the kitchen.
Of course, Draco hadn't bothered to give him directions, so Harry had to check every door until he found the bathroom. Luckily it was the third room he checked, and Harry let himself in, taking a deep breath as he began to strip off his clothes.
Draco had changed, that much was clear. Gone was the false bravado and prepubescent immaturity that had seemed to characterize him in Hogwarts. There was still an edge to him, and a snarky one, but it seemed less angsty and more humorous. He actually seemed happy, especially when he was looking at Shadow. Harry never would've expected to actually empathize with the man, but here they were.
His clothes in a pile on the ground, Harry turned on the shower and stepped inside, hissing as he adjusted to the hot water. There were rows of knobs on the wall, not unlike the ones he'd found in the prefect bathroom at Hogwarts, and he amused himself with turning them on and off as he thought.
What were these feelings he kept having around Draco? They'd only reunited for an hour or two, but everything about the man was calling to him. He was attractive, no doubt about that, but his personality had improved so much that it was like meeting a new person.
Still... Harry couldn't quite brush off the memories of Draco at Hogwarts. He'd called Hermione a mudblood, been a death eater, tried to kill Dumbledore.
How much of that had been familial pressure, and how much had just been him being an immature asshole?
Harry turned one of the knobs and a thick white foam shot out of the shower head, covering him from head to toe and effectively snapping him out of his internal monologue. He quickly turned the shower back to regular water and focused on warming up, knowing that it probably hadn't been too healthy to sit in his wet pants for ages. Once his teeth had stopped chattering and he had completely stopped shivering Harry turned off the water and got out, standing and dripping on the tile floor.
Just as he went for a towel, the door flew open.
"Potter, the soup's-aaGH!"