A Beautiful Beginning

*Chapter Eight*

Juicy stuff is going to appear very soon in future chapters ;)

Clarissa did a beautamous job on this chapter. *dead serious* I should get her a gold star.

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  (Harry)
  The two boys sat and sipped from their mugs in a companionable silence-- for about five seconds. While Harry didn't want to upset the other by pressuring him to talk, he found the quiet unnerving. He decided to try some simple questions to make conversation, hoping he'd get a response from the blond, though he wasn't holding his breath. He hadn't been by the Slytherin's side constantly, so he couldn't be sure, but Harry was fairly certain Draco hadn't spoken to anyone in months.
  "So, um... Have you talked to your friends recently? Like, er, Pansy? Or Blaise?" Sweet Merlin, he was awkward.
  Draco merely shook his head, eyes never leaving his drink. Harry sighed in something close to defeat, knowing he was unlikely to get a verbal response for quite a long time. He was willing to wait, but he wished he knew how to gain Draco's trust.
  After a few more minutes of silence, Harry asked if Draco wanted to watch a movie, which earned him only an inquisitive look. Right, he thought, wizards don't know what movies are.
  "It's like a book, sort of, except on a screen, and with people and pictures instead of words." Harry had never realized how weird muggle things seemed when they were explained out loud. "So, I mean we don't have to, but I could get a movie set up for us to watch. If you want, that is."
  Draco nodded slowly, still looking confused. Harry wished for a television, and a large flatscreen appeared on the wall above the fireplace. He went about setting up the movie; he'd selected one called Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, a bit of which he had glimpsed as a child, before being shooed away to go make dinner. Draco watched as he hooked everything up, staring with a wondering sort of fascination. As soon as the disc was in, the music started playing and the blond jumped, looking around in bewilderment, and Harry stifled a laugh. Once the introduction started playing, Harry sat down at the end of the sofa, taking care to do so slowly.
  As the movie went on, Draco watched, enraptured, smiling at the funny parts and scowling when Wonka told Charlie to go away. He looked so innocent when he was caught up in the film, so different from the scared, damaged boy he was the rest of the time. Harry was even more determined, now, to gain the other's trust and friendship, no matter what it took.

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(Draco)
  The "movie," as Harry called it, was so odd and enthralling that Draco lost himself in the characters and the plot. Here, with Harry, in this room with the sweets and the cocoa and the fire, everything felt peaceful. It wasn't really, of course it wasn't, but it felt peaceful, and that was sacred in its own way. He didn't want to leave, ever. He still didn't trust the Boy Who Lived, but being with him was better than being with other people. Whether or not being with Harry was better than being alone, Draco had not decided.
  Soon enough the movie ended, and, as the credits rolled, Draco was brought back to the present. The platter of treats was still on the table, still completely full, though both boys had eaten all they could and then some. The fire was still blazing, although no one had needed to tend it to keep it that way, and the two mugs were still full of cocoa. Nothing seemed to end in the Room of Requirements if you didn't want it to, and Draco wanted very much for everything to stay exactly as it was. He was warm and comfortable and full and, while he never truly felt safe, it was the closest he'd come in a very long time.
  At the other end of the sofa Harry was staring at him, but it escaped Draco's notice. He was beginning to feel exhausted, his eyelids impossibly heavy, but he was afraid to fall asleep. When he was asleep he was vulnerable, his guard down, and he didn't want to be so unprotected when there was another person around. He also didn't want to face his nightmares, but he knew those were inevitable and inescapable. In spite of his reluctance to rest, Draco could feel himself drifting off, unable to keep his eyes open. He could hear Harry moving around, and he was about to sit up to see what the other boy was doing when he felt a thick blanket being draped over him. There was the sound of retreating footsteps, a door shutting softly, then silence, with only the sound of the crackling fire filling the room.