Soup's On
The two men both let out equally surprised and dismayed cries as the door flew open, Malfoy's hands coming up to cover his eyes and Harry desperately lunging for a towel. The blonde almost fell over as he tried to turn around and leave with his eyes still covered, and once Harry was properly covered he just focused on just calming down. Jesus, that had been a surprise.
"So, um," Draco said in a rather choked voice, still turned around with his eyes covered, "the soup is ready."
"Right," Harry said, breathing heavily. "I'll just--I don't have any clothes," he realized out loud, looking down at his towel-clad body. "Can I borrow something?"
"Yeah, my bedroom's across the hall, clothes are in the dresser," Draco said quickly, and then finally uncovered his eyes and scrambled away. Harry caught a glimpse of just how red the other man's face was as he turned and found himself blushing as well.
Well, there was nothing to be done about the horribly embarrassing situation now. All Harry could do was walk across to the Malfoy's bedroom and pick out a set of clothes. There wasn't much that fit him, considering that Draco was quite a bit smaller, but Harry managed to find a pair of sweatpants and a raggedy old t-shirt. He wasn't about to wear Draco's boxers, so he was forced to go commando, which for some reason made the blush on his face deepen that much more.
Once he had managed to fully collect himself Harry exited the bedroom, cheeks and ears still slightly pink. Draco had set up a bowl of soup for him but was nowhere to be found, so Harry settled down at the kitchen table to wait for him. It was a couple of minutes until the other wizard emerged from the hallway to the left of the kitchen, looking a tad disheveled. "Why aren't you eating?" He asked, looking offended.
"I was just waiting for you," Harry hurried to explain, not wanting to look ungrateful. Malfoy's cheeks flushed at that (again) and he turned away, grabbing himself a bowl and spooning several ladle-fulls of soup into it. After a moment he sat down in front of Harry, and they both commenced eating.
Their dinner was mostly silent, only interrupted by Harry thanking Draco for the food. It really was good, full of flavor and just what Harry had wanted. Nothing like a bowl of warm soup to warm you up after you fell into a cold river and almost drowned.
Once they had finished up Harry gathered the dishes, Draco watching him bemusedly. "What are you planning on doing with those, Potter?" the blonde asked, following him around the counter and up to the kitchen sink curiously. Harry simply rolled his eyes and turned on the faucet, at which Draco blanched and exclaimed "don't you have your wand? It's not just for defeating Dark Lords, you know, you can use it to do the dishes too."
"Yes, Malfoy," Harry said, mimicking the way Draco called him Potter and looking around for the soap, "I'm not a complete and utter idiot. But I left my wand at home today. Didn't think I'd need it, not with coming out into the woods and expecting to be completely alone and all." The soap ended up being in the counter above the sink and Harry located it, scrubbing at the bowls determinedly. He'd been raised to be neat and clean after himself, especially when a guest at someone else's house. This wasn't just Draco's place either, it was technically the property of Hogwarts. Just one more reason to treat it nicely.
"How... muggle," Draco mused, then shifted slightly uncomfortably. "Um..." Harry didn't respond, waiting for the other man to say whatever was on the tip of his tongue. "Can we not do that whole thing?" Draco finally asked, saying it all at once and quite obviously nervously.
"What whole thing?" Harry asked, looking determinedly at the bowl he was currently scrubbing at not at Malfoy. No reason to embarrass the other any more.
"The... The 'Malfoy' and 'Potter' thing."
"I'm still not quite sure I understand."
"You know, when I call you 'Potter' and you call me 'Malfoy' and we both sound like twats," the blonde finally burst out. "I just want to be 'Draco' and 'Harry', alright?" It had obviously taken quite some effort for Draco to lower his boundaries and ask Harry for that, as he was flushed a dark pink and his hands were balled into fists at the side.
Harry glanced up and nodded simply. "Sounds fine to me, Draco." It didn't take very long to finish washing the dishes, and even less time to put them away, but by the time he had finished Draco seemed to have relaxed once again. Harry quite liked this side of him, the one that didn't act like a complete prat when he was uncomfortable and seemed actually capable of carrying out a civil conversation. It was rather nice, and not at all as awkward as Harry would've expected it to be.
After Harry had finished he turned and looked at Draco, pausing for a moment, unsure of what to do. Draco just looked back at him for a moment before realizing what was happening and quickly saying "oh," looking around for something to do.
"I suppose I should go now," Harry said, and didn't miss the look of dismay that flashed across Draco's face for a moment. Truth be told, he didn't really want to leave either. Something about being here, with another person, after weeks of solitude... Well, he hadn't minded the loneliness, but this was certainly a welcome break. He caught a glance of several champagne glasses and added, on a whim, "unless you'd like to have a drink?"
Draco's face lit up, but he turned quickly, nonchalantly agreeing that that might be nice. It turned out that these cabins had a hidden cabinet full of liquor, and the pair picked out a red wine to share. There weren't any wine glasses to be found so they simply used champagne ones, heading to the living room and both pouring themselves a drink.
At first, conversation was minimal, but as the night went on and the drinks flowed Harry found himself confiding in Draco more and more. As the sun was setting he told Draco the way he had grown up, how the Dursleys had made him live under the stairs and barely fed him, how Dudley had always bullied him, how relieved he was when Hagrid appeared and brought him to Hogwarts for their first year.
"I wish you had taken me up on that offer to be friends," Draco admitted as the sky grew dark. His cheeks were flushed pink, but Harry wasn't sure if it was from his confession or his third glass of wine. "Maybe I wouldn't have been such a prat. Although, to be honest, I was raised that way, so I probably would've turned out to be a prat no matter what anyone did."
"Really?" Harry asked curiously, leaning forward in the armchair he was sitting in to be a bit closer to Draco. "Do tell."
The other laughed and waved his hand, leaning forward in his own chair. "My backstory isn't quite as tragic as yours, Harry. I was raised in a dark ass house with a rich ass family. My mom loved me, yeah, but she was always way too busy to really pay attention to me. My dad... Well, he was a piece of work. Step one foot out of line and he'd beat you for hours." Draco caught Harry's concerned glance and quickly added, "it wasn't that bad, really. I managed. Not like being locked under a staircase for half my life."
Harry leaned forward a tad more, and then the two were almost touching. The chairs hadn't been too far away in the first place, Harry supposed, but it was still a bit of a shock to be looking at Draco so closely. His eyelashes were as pale as his platinum hair, and longer than any girl's Harry had ever seen. His eyes were so big, so beautiful...
"Draco," Harry murmured, and leaned forward even more, rather drunk and intending to kiss the other.
Before he could, Malfoy practically leapt away, spilling some of his drink in the process. Harry was left breathless and confused, not sure what he had done to chase off the other. "I'm sorry," he began for the second time that night.
"Don't," Draco interrupted, just as out of breath as Harry was. "It's just--well, it's getting late. You can't apparate back drunk, so just... Sleep in a guest room."
With that, Draco fled the living room, leaving Harry throughly and utterly confused.