The Vervé Elixir || Drarry

Chapter 2

"This is a wonderful opportunity for you, boys," Professor McGonagall gushed as she led them to the east wing of the school. "It'll set a good example for inter-house cooperation, and perhaps you'll finally learn to get on well with each other."

Draco grumbled to himself as she prattled on, making a face at Potter, but smiled and nodded enthusiastically when she looked over at him.

Their room was a smaller version of the eighth year dormitories, with only two beds instead of the usual five. They had their own bathroom, of course, as well as two desks and a tiny fireplace in the corner.

"The house elves already brought your things," she told them. Sure enough, Draco's trunk was already placed at the end of one of the beds.

As soon as McGonagall left the room, Draco rounded on Potter.

"Look at the situation you've got us in!" He fumed. "If you had just had an ounce of competence, this never would have—"

Instead of arguing, Potter merely rolled his eyes and went to his trunk. "That's great, Malfoy," he pulled out fresh clothes and a bottle of muggle shower gel. "But I need to shower." He stood up and went towards the bathroom.

"Just use a fucking cleaning charm, Potter," Draco snapped.

"Are you deaf? Pomfrey said I can't get the potion off with magic!"

Draco huffed. "This is bullshit." He turned to walk away, just as Harry opened the door to go into the bathroom.

He only managed a few steps before he felt a searing pain in chest, his hearing fading to a mere ringing as he crumpled to the floor.

At the sound of his shout, Potter hurried out of the bathroom. "Draco! Are you okay?"

"What the hell was that?" Draco wheezed. The pain was gone—it'd disappeared as soon as Harry was within a few feet of him.

"Pomfrey said it would be painful for us to separate!" Potter pointed out, exasperated.

"Fuck, that hurt," Draco groaned as he stood up.

"Are you okay?" Potter asked, and his worry only served to make Draco more annoyed.

"I'm fine," he grumbled. "Are you okay?" he asked begrudgingly.

"I mean, yeah," Potter frowned. "It hurt, but not that bad," he shook his head. "But I have a pretty high pain tolerance."

"Yeah, great, we all know you're better than us, Potter," Draco said snidely.

He huffed. "It's only because I've experienced a lot of pain, asshole. Not because I'm better than you."

"Oh, right," Draco answered. "Your superiority is a separate trait—my mistake."

"Just shut up and let me shower, will you?"

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll cover my eyes, I guess." I just have to sit in the bathroom and cover my eyes. Genius, right?

Draco sat on the floor, his back to the shower and his hands over his eyes while Potter quickly showered. It was fine—that is, until Potter opened the cap of his body wash and squirted what sounded like a generous amount into his palm.

Fuck.

Draco really thought he was over his childhood crush on Potter—well, he couldn't exactly call it a childhood crush, given how recent it was.

This is fine. This is fine. He did his best to block out the sounds of the shower, eventually resorting to Occlumency techniques to clear his mind. Just don't think about him. Don't think—oh fuck, now he's getting out of the shower.

Draco carefully stood up, his hands still covering his eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek as he heard Potter drying himself off with a towel. Potter was right behind him, naked, drying himself off with a towel.

Merlin, I better not get a fucking boner. I can't handle that right now I simply CANNOT, okay this is fine, just focus on something else. Think about Grandmother. Think about—

"This is fucking weird with you hiding your eyes like that." Potter said from over his shoulder. "You're making this so much more awkward than it needs to be."

Draco immediately lowered his hands, hoping Potter wouldn't notice his reluctance. That might make him suspicious.

He blinked, and quickly averted his eyes at the sight of Potter wearing just a towel. Even worse, Draco thought, was that he was naked under the towel.

Fucking hell, he was hot. What the FUCK.

"Are you going to shower now?" Potter asked. "To get it over with."

"Absolutely not," Draco spat. "No."

He sighed. "I get that this sucks, Malfoy, and we hate each other and shit, but you're making it so fucking awkward."

"I just enjoy my privacy, thank you," Draco sniffed.

Potter raised an eyebrow. "Privacy? What privacy?" He laughed. "You literally always shower with the other Slytherins in the quidditch locker rooms after practice!"

He raised his eyebrows. "How the hell do you know that?"

"I just—" Potter shook his head. "I like going to other houses' practices. They're neat."

"There's no reason for you to notice where I shower," Draco pointed out.

His eyes widened at the implication of what he just said. "I mean, I only paid attention because I wanted to make sure you weren't doing anything sketchy again—" he swallowed. "Not—not that I don't think you haven't changed, of course! Because you have, it's just that—that I wanted to make sure you were okay, like—what if someone was using you, again?"

Draco stared at him, trying to understand what Potter was saying.

"I'm just—just worried about everyone's safety." He cleared his throat. "Yours included. Not that I actually give a damn about you," he added quickly. "I just...don't wish you ill. Not anymore."

Draco blinked. "So you watch me shower," he said slowly, "because you care about me."

Panic flitted across Potter's face, and he quickly turned and hurried out of the bathroom. "Let's get ready for dinner," he said.

Draco followed close behind. "I don't need food, I need answers." He needed to know why Potter was paying attention to him like that—and he needed a better reason than 'I care about your safety.'

Potter was about to open his trunk when the door to their room abruptly swung open.

"WHAT THE FUCK, YOU GUYS?" Pansy kicked the door open and marched in, followed by Goyle, Blaise, Weasley, and Granger.

Granger rounded on Potter. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Potter backed away, raising his hands in defense. Granger was wandless. Despite being wandless, Granger still managed to leave Potter cowering.

"What the fuck happened?" Pansy demanded, and from behind her, Blaise mouthed 'she's mad,' to Draco.

Why she was mad, Draco had no idea. In fact, he didn't understand why any of them were mad—after all, they weren't the one in this predicament.

"Harry," Weasley asked over the volume of everyone's arguing. "Are you aware that you're only wearing a towel?"

The sudden realization flashed across Potter's face, as if he'd somehow forgotten that he wasn't clothed.

Blaise pinched the bridge of his nose just as Goyle spoke up.

"Can we please discuss this over dinner?"

The room fell silent, just in time for Goyle's stomach to growl loudly.

"Just get dressed, Potter," Blaise said in exasperation. "So we can have dinner before Goyle starves."