Chapter 12

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It felt like his eyes had only been shut for two seconds when Draco felt the warmth of sunlight on his cheek. The rays were shining through the crack in the heavy drapes and Draco stirred slightly, opening his eyes.

At first, he wondered why his surroundings looked familiar, yet different to the room he'd been sleeping in for the last six months. The furniture looked the same, as well as the light fixtures and the dark brown floorboards, but the dresser was in a different place, and the bed sheets were red, not blue.

That's when, through tired eyes, he noticed the Gryffindor scarf hanging on a hook on the back of the door and a pair of shoes tossed by the window that he recognised as Harry's. Confusion melted away and he sunk back into the pillow, taking in the sight of Harry's bedroom properly for the first time.

It was cosy, and the sunlight casting its warm glow across the room made Draco want to sink further into the puffy bedding and curl up for a lifetime. Various broomsticks were mounted on the wall opposite his bed against the burgundy wallpapered walls. His Hogwarts trunk now sat in the corner, with a pile of books and a small lamp on top, next to a plush brown armchair which had t-shirts strewn over it.

The chest of drawers were bursting at the seams with jumpers, socks and shirts peeping over the edges and Draco smiled to himself, not expecting anything less from Harry and his lack of organisation. A Chudley Cannons quidditch poster was framed and hung above it on the wall close to the expensive aftershave, cufflinks and a beard grooming kit. Draco couldn't make sense of whether it was the bedroom of a teenage boy or a sophisticated, well-respected Ministry Auror.

Despite the sun peeping through, casting a slither of light across the headboard, Draco was cold. His skin was like ice to touch where he'd spent the entire night sleeping on top of the covers.

As he rolled over, he noticed Harry's side of the bed was empty, the sheets were strewn aside and the pyjamas he'd worn the night before were tossed over the pillow. He listened out for signs of movement from the house but was only met with silence. No kettle whistling, no clanging of pots and pans or footsteps marching about the place.

He stretched, noticing the clock on the bedside table - 09:45 and realised it was no wonder he felt so refreshed, he'd slept for over nine hours straight.

When he reached the kitchen, a mug of tea was waiting for him on the table, still steaming thanks to the warming charm that had been placed over it and a small note on a piece of parchment sat beside it:

Draco,

I know you won't admit that you were freezing last night, but this should warm you up

He shook his head with laughter and smiled hard, taking a sip of the tea that hugged his body with warmth before making his way into the garden to sit in the crisp early Autumn sunshine.

It was a nice day, and as he sat on the bench listening to the chirping of birds and the rustle of the trees above, he made a vow to himself to heal, to find a reason to stay.

***


The sound of movement coming from the house an hour later caused Draco to snap out of his daydream and head back to the house in search of the noise.

Harry was busy in the kitchen unpacking groceries from four large brown paper bags which had been placed haphazardly on the counter, one which had fallen over, where oranges were rolling out and onto the floor.

"Got enough food?" Draco joked, picking up the fruit and placing it into the bowl in the centre of the table.

"I may have gone a bit overboard." Harry huffed, stepping back and scratching his head in deliberation of where to store it all. Four bags were fairly excessive for just the two of them, especially when Draco rarely ate anyway.

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