Chapter Fourteen
Arrangements
Harry woke up long before Darius did the next morning, so he snuck out of the room quietly. In the kitchen, he found Draco, who looked like he was trying to make coffee, but not succeeding too well because several items that he needed were out of his reach.
Harry opened one of the cabinets, took out two cups and handed them to Draco.
Draco glanced at him, a strange combination of gratitude and annoyance in his voice as he said, “Thanks.”
The silence spread between them and Harry wasn’t quite sure if it was comfortable or not. After a few minutes, Draco handed Harry a cup of steaming hot coffee. Harry sipped it. “Did you sleep well?” he asked quietly, so as to not wake Myra up, who was sleeping on the couch in the living room.
Draco nodded. “Darius’ bed is very comfortable.”
“Everything that belongs to Darius is comfortable,” Harry smiled. Another silence followed then Harry frowned, “We’ll have to go out shopping again.”
Draco smiled slightly at him. “Guess so.”
“I guess this will be the end of my use of comfortable clothes,” Harry said, his grin widening. “Considering how tight everything you decided on was.”
Draco didn’t grin back; he looked down at the cup he was holding in his hands. “I don’t have any money,” he said quietly.
Harry frowned at him. “Why would that suddenly matter?”
“Because I can’t live off you all the time like a bloody parasite,” Draco said angrily, moving to wheel away from Harry. Harry, however, stepped in front of him.
“Let’s go into Darius’ room so that we don’t wake Myra up,” he said softly. Draco looked up at him, grey eyes unreadable. Harry took the wheelchair’s handles and took them both into Darius’ room, closing the door behind them.
Harry sat down on Darius’ large bed and looked at Draco. The blond in question was wheeling himself back and forth over the floor – Harry was surprised at how good he’d gotten at getting himself around. He looked a bit healthier now than he had two weeks ago; his upper body slightly more muscled because of the exercise the wheelchair gave him. He still looked too pale, though, and his hair could do with a cut. He didn’t have stubble; Draco didn’t seem to have much facial hair at all, except for long, blond eyelashes and thin pale eyebrows.
Finally, Draco stopped, his breath heavy. “I don’t want to live off you anymore, Po—Harry,” he said quietly.
“Why not?” Harry asked. “I mean it doesn’t matter to me. I have more money than I could possibly spend. Or do you not want to live with me anymore? Is that what you’re saying?” He frowned. He didn’t want Draco to leave – not now, possibly not ever. He wanted Draco in his life.
“I was only supposed to stay one night, not five weeks,” Draco said.
“Well technically, it has only been three weeks, since you’ve been staying at the hospital and with Myra the rest of the time,” Harry said trying to lighten the mood.
“Yeah, so now I’m living off your friends as well,” Draco snapped.
“That’s what friends are for!” Harry said in an angry whisper so as to not wake up Myra and Darius.
“They are your friends, not mine,” Draco said.
“They were my friends, but now they’re ours,” Harry said, meeting Draco’s glare with one of his own. “Myra adores you! D thinks you’re cool. Whether you want it or not, they are your friends.”
“But I don’t deserve them,” Draco said.
Harry stared. “What is it you think you deserve?” he asked after several long seconds, his voice quiet yet strong. “Why did you ask me ‘why’ when I came for you up in the apartment? Why do you think that you don’t deserve Myra and Darius as friends? Why don’t you do the exercises I know you’ve figured out that you can do, so that you’ll get better? Why do you think that you deserve this?”
Draco stared at him, his face closed off but a war of emotions raging in his eyes. Harry knew that he was about to tell Harry what was wrong.
Just then, there was a knock on the door.
Draco’s head snapped around and Harry knew that the moment to get Draco to open up was lost.
“Come in,” he said and Myra stuck her head in.
“Good morning, guys,” she said, opening the door. “Do I smell coffee?”
Draco smirked at her. “Of course. There is a pot out in the kitchen – go grab yourself a cup.”
Myra yawned and smiled. “I’ll definitely do that.”
When Myra left, Draco turned to Harry, looking down at his lap before meeting Harry’s eye. “I’ll stay two more weeks,” he said. “Then I’ll be gone.”
“But—“
Draco left, not seeming to care about what Harry had to say.
Harry bit his lip. He didn’t want Draco to leave and it was not only because Harry wondered what Draco would do instead. In the few weeks they’d lived together, Harry had gotten used to having him around. He wouldn’t have thought so five weeks ago, but it was— nice. Especially now that the spell had worn off so that Draco could move around by himself. He took pride in being independent; it showed.
And Harry didn’t want him to leave.
The smell of bacon and eggs brought him out of his reverie and he walked to the kitchen to find Myra making breakfast.
“I hope you’re hungry,” she smiled.
“Don’t worry,” Harry said, “if we don’t eat it, D will. He’s like a human garbage bin.”
She giggled. “He’s still sleeping, huh?”
“Like a baby or at least he was a half hour ago when I got up,” Harry said.
“That boy sleeps more than anyone else I know,” Myra said. “Do you want pancakes?”
“With the eggs and the bacon?” Harry wrinkled his nose. “No, one at the time is fine. Is there any toast?”
“Yeah, over there. I picked up some cheese and butter yesterday at the store too,” Myra said.
“I don’t want to know what we would have been eating if you hadn’t,” Harry said.
He proceeded to set the table for the four of them. Draco was watching TV, ignoring Harry and the rest of the world. It looked like the news, but Harry wasn’t very interested at the moment. The breakfast and the lovely smell of bacon had his full attention.
“Draco, do you want an egg?” Myra asked.
Draco looked up and shrugged. “Sure.”
”Scrambled?”
“That’ll do.” He returned to the TV.
The breakfast was, despite the strained air between Harry and Draco, pleasant. Light talk between the three of them, never touching any deeper or more complicated issues. After their meal, Darius still hadn’t woken up. Myra and Draco sat down to watch cartoons while Harry thumbed through the day’s newspaper, looking at houses and apartments for sale. He had a notepad next to him and wrote down everything that he wanted his new home to have. After circling several different places, he called around to the brokers and booked times to get a tour ‘round them.
“Draco?”
The blond man looked away from the TV. He looked slightly annoyed at being interrupted while in the middle of a Scooby Doo episode. Harry ignored the glare.
“Do you want to come with me to check out a few houses and apartments? We can go shopping in between if you want to.” Harry hoped Draco would – perhaps if he could be part of choosing Harry’s new home, he would be more open to staying.
“I’m going to live there for less than two weeks – I doubt you need my input,” Draco said coolly, his attention returning to the TV.
“Draco—”
“What?” Draco snapped. Myra looked surprised at him.
“I need a second opinion on things anyway,” Harry said, trying to sound as cool and detached as Draco was managing, but he had a feeling he was failing.
Myra looked uncertainly between the two of them and finally stood up. “I’m going to the bathroom,” she said quietly and left.
“Why are you being so stupid?” Harry exclaimed.
“Why do you want me here?” Draco countered. “What is it with you and having to do the wounded bird routine?”
“I want you here because when you’re not being a stupid asshole, you are fun company,” Harry said, taking a deep breath to keep his temper in check. “I don’t want anything from you in return, why can’t you get that through your thick skull? And don’t ask why again or I’ll have to hit you over the head with something.”
He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up even more.
“Threatening with physical violence?” Draco spat at him.
Harry opened his mouth to say something, but then Draco’s words sank in and he bit his lip, trying to stop the laughter. It didn’t work. Soon, he started chuckling and soon it grew to a full-blown laughter. Draco glared daggers at him, of course, but when the tears of mirth began spilling over Harry’s cheeks, he started grinning as well.
“I wasn’t – actually – going to – hit you,” Harry said between fits of laughter. “And your face—”
When Myra stuck her head into the living room a few minutes later, she found Harry and Draco both laughing so hard they had trouble breathing.
“Nice to see you smile,” she said, her own grin widening just from watching the young men. “Does this mean you will go with him to check out the houses?”
Draco looked up at Harry, still smiling slightly, and he shrugged. “Sure.”
Harry smiled back at him, drying the tears off with the back of his hand.
“Have you found anything interesting?” Myra asked.
“Oh, there are a few places. There is an apartment in Soho and one in Notting Hill, although those both seem too small. Then I’m checking out three houses a bit further out. It would be nice to live outside of London; somewhere with a little garden, so that I can sit on the porch and write.”
Harry trailed off, realising he sounded ridiculous. “Sorry,” he said. “Just thinking.”
“Fine by me, Harr’, you do it so rarely that every—“ She didn’t finish, as Harry threw a ball of paper at her. She laughed at him.
Draco watched the two of them with a small smile. Harry met Draco’s eyes for a brief second and suddenly the world seemed so tranquil, so calm. Draco looked away and the moment was broken.
“Well,” Myra said after she’d finished giggling, “I’m going home. I need to get some studying done.”
At the mention of studies, Harry realised that he was probably way behind in his classes after being gone for two weeks. It was hard being away just a day or two, so he didn’t want to think about what this would bring. Then he reminded himself that he went to university because he wanted something to do, not because he needed good grades to become something, and he relaxed.
Harry called a cab and remembered to be specific that it had to be one that could fit a wheelchair. It arrived a few minutes later and then Harry and Draco were on their way to see the first apartment.
As Harry had expected, neither the apartment in Soho nor the one in Notting Hill was anything like what he wanted. First of all, they had stairs, and while this wouldn’t have been a problem if he’d been living there on his own, it was much more of a problem now that he thought of Draco living with him. On top of that, both apartments were too small – Harry was used to space in his old apartment – and too shabby.
“Next is a one-story house with three bedrooms, one thousand five hundred square feet,” Harry read off his notebook. “But it’s a little bit too far outside of London, so I don’t know.”
It turned out that the house had lots of things that Harry couldn’t accept. To begin with, it had a five stairs to go up just to get into the house. Harry and the broker carried Draco with the wheelchair up the stairs. Then, inside, the hallway was very narrow, only just taking the wheelchair through and every single door had an inch high doorframe. The house over all looked old and shabby, with too few windows and in big need of repairs.
The second house had no stairs to get in, but well inside, there were stairs here and there, as part of the house was slightly higher up than the other part was. Its bathrooms would have to be completely changed to fit a wheelchair at all and the kitchen would have to be re-modelled.
“The last house on the list is a little over one thousand one hundred square feet, with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, kitchen and a combined dining and living room.”
The broker who met them at the door was an older gentleman, probably in his late fifties, with grey hair and small, square glasses. He smiled pleasantly at Harry but took Draco’s hand a little more cautiously, as though a person in a wheelchair was dangerous, or perhaps fragile. Draco didn’t seem to appreciate the treatment.
The house had stairs up to the front door, but it was only two this time, which made it much easier. The entrance hall and the following hallway were both spacious. Off to the right lay the two bedrooms, with adjoining bathrooms, one with a shower stall and the other one with a bathtub and both bedrooms with large closets.
The living room, situated just down the first hall, was spacious and currently sparsely decorated. The family who lived there right now were minimalists, that much was obvious. There was a glassed terrace with large windows letting the daylight in. The dining area lay up in the corner, with the kitchen. Everything was open; very few walls.
“Down that corridor is the garage,” the broker said. “Would you like to see it?”
Harry, who had been deep in thought about the house, nodded.
The garage looked like any other garage – dirty, with two cars and lots of tools that looked unused.
Finally, the broker showed them the backyard.
“It is easily taken care of,” the broker said. “The pair that lives here at the moment says that they spend only a few hours every few weeks tending to it and then it is mostly cutting the grass.”
“It looks fine,” Harry said, smiling. “I would like an inspection to be made on the house to check that there are no hidden problems, but it there aren’t – or they are at least surmountable, then you can consider this house bought. If everything goes according to plan, when can we move in?”
The broker looked slightly shocked; pleasantly so. “The pair has been trying to sell this for over a year – they already have their new apartment ready to move into. We could have you move in here in just a week or two.”
“Make that one and I’ll take it,” Harry said.
“Then we’ll make it one,” the broker promised.
“If it passes the inspection, of course,” Harry said.
“Of course.”
In the taxi on their way home, Harry was humming happily, writing notes in his notebook. He’d gotten two copies of the plan for the house with him and he was now drawing on one of them, chewing thoughtfully on the pencil every now and then.
“What are you writing?” Draco finally snapped, having long since had enough of Harry’s humming.
“The changes I can make to the house,” Harry said, continuing to draw.
“What changes?”
“So that it becomes wheelchair-friendly, of course.” Harry still didn’t look at him.
“Harry, I’m not staying in your house – that is really not necessary,” Draco snapped at him.
At last, Harry looked up at him, with a small smile on his lips. “Ah, but I have a proposition for you.”
“A proposition?” Draco asked dumbly.
“A proposition.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Let’s hear it.”
“Well, I was thinking – shush, no stupid comments – I was thinking that you could stay with me even after the two weeks are over,” Harry said.
“I just told you—“
“Let me speak to finish,” Harry interrupted him. “I want you to stay with me. Don’t ask me why – I guess I’ve gotten used to your company.” Harry didn’t think that saying anything beyond that would be wise. “Either way, I thought that you can stay, but since you’re intent on being independent, you can pay me rent and pay for your food. That way, you won’t have to go looking for some handicap friendly places to live, because there doesn’t seem to be that many.”
Draco stared at him. After several long moments, he said, “You want me to stay with you.”
“Yes.”
“And you will have me pay rent and my food, to make me feel independent.”
“Yes.”
“And what do you get out of it?”
Harry shrugged. “Told you, I’ve gotten used to your company. Living alone would be boring now. You’re exciting, I suppose.”
“Of course I am,” Draco said with an air of Malfoy-ness.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Whatever. So, do you accept the proposal?”
“Let me see those changes you are going to do to the house,” Draco said.
Harry handed him the papers and began pointing and explaining. “Well, first off I’m taking the door frames out. They’re hell to get over, obviously. Then I’m remaking the second bedroom’s bathroom, so that it is a handicap toilet and so that there are bars to help you get around, into the shower and such. In the bathroom that goes with the master bedroom, I’m putting in bars, so that you can take a bath there if you’d like. The closet doors need changing too, to sliding ones, I think that’ll be easier.”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought, haven’t you?”
Harry gave him a look. “I was actually thinking about doing these changes to the apartment, but now that seems kind of unnecessary, don’t you think?”
Draco chuckled, surprising Harry. “A bit.”
“Anyway. The kitchen looked pretty good, but some of the cabinets that need lowering, so that you can reach everything, and I’m taking off the doors, so that everything will be easier.”
“That’s an okay amount to do,” Draco said. “Nothing too heavy.”
“No, the real work will be with the garage.”
“What about it?” Draco asked. “You buying a car?”
“Well, I’m thinking about that too, since we will be living a bit outside of town, but that’s not the point. I’ll have to build a carport for it if I get one.” Harry became lost in thought again.
“What are you doing to the garage?” Draco asked suspiciously.
Harry smiled. “I’m building an inside pool, of course.”
Draco stared with his mouth hanging open.
“That’s a really attractive look for you,” Harry grinned. “What, don’t you like the idea?”
“You are building an inside pool?” Draco said slowly, disbelievingly.
“Yes,” Harry said brightly. “Look,” he said, pointing at the rectangle he’d drawn on the garage’s floor. “One shallow end, one deep, with stairs down. There will be a shower over here—“ he drew on the paper “—and towels here, and then I thought we’d open this storage area up and make it a work out room. What do you think?”
“That this is going to cost,” Draco said faintly, staring at Harry. “You’re insane.”
“Yes,” Harry said, continuing to sketch on the paper. “Don’t worry about the money – I’ve got it.”
Draco shook his head, mumbling under his breath again, “You’re insane.”
Harry just smiled. He knew Draco would stay. He enjoyed the feeling of Draco’s closeness as he continued to watch over Harry’s shoulder as he drew on the papers.
They hadn’t had time to shop between looking at the houses and apartments,
so they went on a shorter shopping trip on the late Saturday afternoon.
They visited several of the stores they’d been in the last time
they went shopping. Draco surprised Harry by remembering his sizes and
what sort of pants fit him, which made the shopping go faster.
Draco, however, had just as much trouble as the last time. The changing rooms were far from made for people in wheelchairs and even when they were, Draco had problems getting in and out of the clothes, especially pants. Tired and miserable, he finally decided on two pairs that he thought would fit and a few comfortable shirts and jumpers. They both also bought shoes, two pairs each, another hellish thing for Draco. Harry had to help him put the shoes on towards the end, although it didn’t matter anyway, as Draco couldn’t feel if they fit or not. Draco was tired; he wasn’t wheeling himself on the way back to Darius’ apartment; instead he let Harry push him.
Arriving at Darius’, the delicious smell of food welcomed them.
“There you are,” Myra smiled at them from where she stood in the kitchen. “Did you find a house?”
Harry surprised her by nodding. “A very lovely little house. If it comes through the inspection without a problem, I’m buying it.”
“You’ll have to tell us more over dinner,” Myra said. “Darius will be back in about half an hour and the food will be done in forty-five minutes or so, so if you want to take a shower, you have the time.”
“Shower sounds very good,” Harry said. “We bought some new clothes and I guess it’d be a good thing to be clean when we put them on.”
Myra frowned at Draco. “I’m not sure he will be able to shower, though,” she said. “D’s shower stall is tiny.”
Harry looked at Draco, cocking his head to the side. “You can take a bath. His bathtub is huge.”
Draco nodded. “Okay.”
“I’ll get the water running,” Harry said and disappeared into the bathroom.
Harry showered first, as the tub filled with water. After finishing, he knocked on the door to Darius’ room, where he knew Draco was hiding.
“Bath?”
Draco nodded mutely, his face expressionless. He seemed very good at keeping a blank face.
He wheeled himself into the bathroom and looked at the filled bathtub. Harry followed and closed the door behind them. Draco would not be able to get into the bathtub by himself.
Draco, ignoring Harry, pulled his shirt off and began on his pants. He had become efficient at undressing himself by now; since the spell had lifted, he could bend as he liked. Soon, he was sitting in his boxers. With a small sigh, he took those off as well.
Harry ignored the feelings stirring within as he saw Draco’s pale body; he swallowed and forced himself to look only at Draco’s face. Draco didn’t need his attraction right now. Harry wasn’t sure that he would ever need Harry’s attraction. Without a word, Harry moved forth, picking Draco up, holding him under his armpits and easing him into the bathtub carefully. When Draco was halfway into the water, he hissed; the water was hot, but his legs couldn’t feel it.
“Do you want me to take you out and run some cold water?” Harry asked.
“N-no, I’ll be fine,” Draco replied quietly. “I’m already getting used to it.”
Harry nodded. After letting Draco slip into the water completely, he stood and took shampoo and body wash from the shower stall.
“Use the hand-held shower head to rinse out your hair,” Harry said. “Call when you’re done or if you need help with anything.”
Draco nodded without looking at him and Harry left.
Myra was setting the table when Harry came back out. She smiled softly at him. “How is he?” she asked quietly, so that Draco wouldn’t hear.
“I don’t know,” Harry said. “He doesn’t talk to me much about anything.”
“He likes you, though,” Myra said.
“Hm,” Harry said, trying to sound un-committing. Darius telling him that Draco liked him was one thing – Myra saying so was quite another and a much more important one.
“Yeah. Told me so when you were gone in those drug induced sleeps of yours,” Myra said, smiling secretly and waking Harry’s curiosity. He wouldn’t have pegged Draco as one who would admit such a thing to anyone else. Perhaps he truly had been worried when Harry was injured.
“What else did you two talk about?” Harry asked.
“That’s none of your business,” Myra said with a smile at him. “Get some glasses.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Anyway, he likes you. He might not say it out loud, but he does appreciate everything you’ve done for him. I think he’s feeling like you’re giving him everything and he’s not giving you anything back, though – I believe that’s the problem.” She returned to the stove where some sort of sauce was cooking.
“Why does he think he has to give me anything? He is already giving me something, that’s what he doesn’t understand,” Harry said. “I was – I was lonely before. I didn’t realise it, but I was. And now I’m not. He’s a good friend.”
She looked up at him, eyeing him with curious dark eyes. “Yes,” she said finally, “he’s a good friend.”
Harry stopped in his tracks. “What do you mean by that?” he asked.
She cocked her head to the side, opened her mouth to say something but seemed to decide otherwise, because she just shrugged and said, “Nothing.”
Then she looked down at the sauce she was preparing again.
Harry frowned at her. “Now you sound like that again.”
“Like what?” she asked innocently, meeting his eye.
“Like you know something I don’t.”
“I always know something you don’t, Harr’. Whether it be class work or about feelings – I always know something.” She grinned at him. “You’re a boy and as such quite oblivious.”
Harry stuck his tongue out at her. Then, with a bright smile, he said, “This time, I actually know something you don’t.”
“Oh really? And what might that be?”
“Ah, ah,” Harry said, tapping the side of his nose. “If I told you, I wouldn’t know more than you do, would I?”
“No, but then again, I am the one serving food tonight and you may just go hungry if you don’t tell me,” Myra threatened.
“I’ll take that risk.” He grinned at her.
He would definitely take that risk – he wasn’t going to tell Myra that Darius suddenly had decided to be in love with her. It wasn’t his place and besides, he’d never made a good matchmaker. That was the stuff Ginny Weasley had been good at. Too good, really. The air at Hogwarts during Harry’s last two years had been, although darkly overshadowed by the war, drowning in love letters and cupids on pink clouds, charmed to throw two names up in the air and shoot an arrow through them.
Harry shook his head at the memories. Those were some of the few good memories of his last two years.
“Harry?”
Both Myra and Harry looked up at the sound of the tired, soft call. Harry gave Myra a quick smile and went into the bathroom.
Draco’s skin was getting wrinkly, his fingers already resembling pink raisins. He had pulled the plug to the bathtub some time ago, so the tub was almost empty. Draco’s skin had goose bumps; it must be cold to sit, still wet after the bath, in the tub without a towel. Harry quickly took one of the many thick, navy towels and wrapped it around Draco’s shoulders.
Draco fixed the towel and dried himself off a bit before Harry lifted him back into the wheelchair.
“Do – do you want me to dry your hair?” Harry asked.
Hesitating a bit, Draco nodded. Harry took another towel and began to gently squeeze the water out of the blond strands. Draco’s hair was so soft and Harry wondered if all the hair on Draco’s body was that soft. He stopped those thought before they had time to get too far. The blush still crept over his cheeks and he was glad that he was standing behind Draco, out of his line of vision.
“Would you like to go get a haircut?” he asked after a few minutes of quiet work, deciding that talk was a good thing.
Draco startled. Harry wondered if he’d been falling asleep under his hands.
“Yeah,” he said, “I need it.”
“That you do,” Harry said, teasing gently. “What would your father say?”
“Oh shut up.”
Harry did, continuing to dry Draco until his hair was only slightly damp. By that time, Draco seemed to have fallen asleep. Harry wheeled Draco out of the bathroom and the blond man awoke when the cooler air of the hallway hit him, making him shiver. Well inside Darius’ bedroom, Harry picked out a pair of boxers, pants and a shirt for Draco to wear.
“Just eat some dinner and then you can sleep,” Harry said, yawning himself. “It’s been a long day.”
Draco nodded. Once he was dressed, Harry took a jacket and handed it to him. Draco looked up at him questioningly.
“You look cold,” Harry said.
Grey eyes watched him thoughtfully. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Just then, they heard the outer door slam, followed by the sound of Darius’ happy voice. “Smells like food here!”
Draco and Harry rolled their eyes and Harry grabbed the handles of the wheelchair without a word. He knew Draco was tired, but he also knew that the other man wouldn’t ask for help, perhaps not even if his life depended on it. He was too proud and it was breaking him.
Myra served pasta with salmon and sauce, Parmesan and a mixed salad. Darius looked at the salad warily. “Never eat things that look to healthy, that’s what my mom always told me,” he said.
“She did not,” Myra said. “Stop whining and eat. It is healthy for you, you’ll look better and you’ll get more girlfriends.”
“Oh, but you know that you are the only one I want,” Darius said theatrically and Harry nearly choked on his food. Darius shot him a look and Harry swallowed, his eyes watering.
“Harry, are you okay?” Myra asked.
“I’m fine,” Harry said. “Just – just swallowed wrong.”
Myra nodded, still looking concerned. The dinner continued without incident after that. When they were done, Draco bid them good night early and Harry retired not long after that. Harry was awoken, however, several hours later, when Darius snuck in to go to bed as well. Harry smiled to himself and fell asleep again, knowing who it was Darius had been talking to and also, somehow, knowing that his two best friends would end up together.
It felt eerily familiar.
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