Post-peace Chaos (Drarry)

Chapter 6

[Harry]

Draco led Harry upstairs. He studied the paintings of scenery hung on the walls as he ascended. Most of them were raining at the moment, only one had the sun shining through and contained warm hues of color. It was an oil painting of a near autumn view. At the top of the stairs, a tiny framed photo of him and his mother was snuggly nestled on a small round table. Narcissa beamed at him.

A long corridor stretched out in front of Harry. Five identical doors could be seen, two on the left and three on the right. He steered to the right and pointed at the first door.

"You can stay here tonight." Harry didn't argue. He was so drained at the point he would rather stay over at Draco's than have a nice, long, dreadful talk with his wife.

Draco pointed at the first door on the left.

"Your bathroom." Short and simple.

Without another word, he disappeared into one of the five doors. Harry lost count.

He clumsily turned the knob and stepped in. The furnish was simple. He closed the door behind him and glanced around the room. A king-sized bed was situated beside the window. Harry found silk pajamas and a bathrobe folded neatly at the foot of the bed. He felt strangely intimate wearing clothes from him, even though the tag indicated them brand new.

Beside them was a parcel with nightly essentials. He fondled the rim of the covers and felt the silkiest, smoothest fabric known to humankind. Of course it would be.

He turned and saw a regular-sized cabinet. That can't be right.

He carefully gave the closet door a slight tug and it pulled open, revealing a walk-in closet full of Draco's clothing that stretched to impossible depths. He remembered the time they camped out with the Weasleys' in the tiny tent with bunk beds inside.

There it is. Harry smiled goofily to himself.

He instantly shook the smile off his face and collected himself. He managed to pick up the whole bundle including the parcel in both his arms. Kicking the door open, he found himself facing four identical doors.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin," He swore under his breath.

Harry vaguely remembered that his bathroom was on the opposite side of his bedroom. He was already sweating from the heavy bundle so he went to whichever door of the two he thought was it.

He was relieved to find a shower stall in front of him and dropped his things to the ground in a heap. He closed the door and started stripping. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, letting it land on the pile. Harry then undid the zipper on his pants and was about to pull them off when the door flew open.

"Bloody hell!" They both yelled.

Draco was standing at the door with only a towel wrapped around his waist. They stared at each other.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"What the hell am I doing here? Your bathroom is down the bloody hall!"

"Damn it!" Harry gathered his large bundle and used it to cover up his blush that appeared out of nowhere. He squeezed out of the doorway. Draco was glaring at him but somehow, he could detect a faint smirk curling at the corner of his lips. Not that he cared how perfect his lips were.

He rushed down the corridor, found the bathroom, and shoved everything including himself inside, this time remembering to scream alohomora at the Merlin-forsaken door. He dropped on the loo and panted with his heart pounding so hard he could hear it in his head. He was still blushing furiously. Screw it, he thought. He quickly stripped down the remaining of his clothes and climbed into the tub.

He was startled by a huge splash. He was so absorbed in his drama he didn't realize the tub was already filled with warm water. He quickly muttered the hot air charm to dry the tsunami he caused.

Harry slowly lowered himself into it. The fragrance of essential oil rose up with the steam. He closed his eyes temporarily to savor the moment. He had to admit, it wasn't all bad staying here at Draco Malfoy's mansion.

[Draco]

Draco paced quickly to his room and shut the door. He didn't want a further word with Harry. He most definitely would ruin the moment.

The reflection in his mirror stared back at him. The last time he kept his hair at this disastrous state that long- on purpose- was probably when he was still in his mother's womb. The mirror cackled at him.

Scowling at it, he wrapped a towel at his waist. He walked across the hall and opened the door only to find Harry half-naked in front of him.

"Bloody hell!" They both yelled.

Draco tried to suppress his blush but his cheeks were already burning. He ran his fingers through his hair to hide it.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Harry yelled.

Draco snapped back to his senses. "What the hell am I doing here? Your bathroom is down the bloody hall!" He shouted too loudly in reply.

"Damn it!"

He watched as Harry scurried to pick up the things he had prepared for him. Harry pushed past him and rushed out the door. He was pressing his load of stuff almost directly to his face.

Draco sighed and closed the door, not bothering to spell it shut. He heard a distant scream of alohomora and felt a jumble of emotions between laughing and groaning. He touched his burning cheeks and splashed some cold water onto them at the sink. Damn. Harry wasn't supposed to know about the bathroom arrangements.

"Now he knows I gave him a tub and a bloody spa when I'm willingly using the shower, dammit," he moaned quietly into his hands.

Draco stepped into the shower and summoned the water. Steaming hot bath water poured down instantly from the multiple showerheads. He rinsed through his hair and massaged the products into his scalp, not able to stop thinking about Harry.

True, it scared the living hell out of him when he saw him, but he couldn't stay mad long with the sight in front of him. It took all his willpower to come back to his senses and yell at Harry.

He closed his eyes and let the water cleanse him. Harry's muscular build appeared out of nowhere. His strong yet subtle muscles on every inch of his body, his milky skin scarred but beautiful... He was inches away from him, their breaths mingling together when his eyes popped open. In front of him were stacks of hair care products on the shower rack. He groaned at himself.

Get a bloody grip, Malfoy, he muttered in his head.

In one fluent wave of his wand the water ceased.

Thinking it would take far too long to dry himself with the hot air charm, Draco patted himself down moving as few muscles as he could. He grabbed a bathrobe from the drawer and threw it on. When he finally arrived at the side of his bed every inch of his body was aching. It only made sense, given the emotional and physical roller coaster he went through that night.

Draco laid there silently, musing over the night's events. He decided that he would be sleeping in this room permanently. He had grown fond of it overnight.