Whatever May Come

"I'm sorry if the notion of you keeping me as a pet doesn't inspire me with the want to live with you." Draco's snotty tone floated into the hall as Harry passed the drawing room on his way down to what was to be a celebration of his recovery and victory. He paused and flattened himself next to the door, waiting to hear Snape's response.

"Draco, I have told you over and over again that it was a mere pretense so that he would not kill you. The whole of the Order believes me, why do you refuse to?"

Harry frowned and stared at his feet. Brilliant. The Order believed Snape was on their side. He supposed it looked that way since he was the one who contacted them, but not even Draco had been sure.

"The whole of the Order wasn't buggering themselves with a feather duster for your amusement. Or was that V-- You-Know-Who's idea, too? Was he there watching? Had to keep your cover by having me violate myself?"

Daring a quick peek, Harry saw Draco's arms flailing, his face red and blotchy, as if he were going to cry. Snape's expression was unreadable. His arms crossed and he remained silent for a good long while. Harry ducked back.

"No, Draco. That wasn't..." He stopped and Harry peeked again, worried that Snape had resorted to whispering. "Being amongst the Death Eaters, I'm afraid, does bring out my baser instincts."

Draco looked up at Snape, his hair fell from his face and Harry scanned his visage for any trace of doubt. He was just as unreadable as Snape. "So now that you're not with them, you want me to live with you. You swear that wouldn't happen again."

"You are like a son to me, Draco." Harry's eyes widened as Snape reached out to caress Draco's cheek.

"No."

"What?" Snape and Draco both turned to face Harry in shock.

"No, he's not going to live with you. He's staying here." Harry looked between them, daring someone to contradict him.

"Potter, no one's asked you--"

Speaking to Draco rather than to Snape, as he's who he wanted to convince, Harry said, "No one has to ask me. He can stay here until things clear up. There is no place safer than this, Remus will be staying here and he's putting a new Fidelius Charm on the house."

"Draco doesn't want to stay somewhere with a werewolf," Snape said.

"Draco can speak for himself." Draco looked between Harry and Snape, not appearing pleased with his choices. It was written all over his face; Draco wanted to go home with his mum. It just wasn't possible now, as the Death Eaters had all but destroyed the Manor, according to the Daily Prophet. Already people had been hired to rebuild, but it would take weeks to put it back to how it was and guarantee its safety.

"Draco, I want you to stay here." That appeal didn't appear to make much of a dent, although Harry didn't think Draco truly wanted to live with Snape. He just needed a reason not to. "You saved my life. I owe you."

Snape scoffed, but Draco smiled and nodded. "That's true. You do owe me. I suppose it makes sense for me to stay here-- life debt and all."

"I've saved both of your skins..." Snape started. Draco silenced him with his hand.

"I'm staying here, and that's that."

"What about your mother?" asked Snape.

"Mrs Malfoy can stay here, too," Harry offered.

Draco beamed. "It's settled, then."

"Narcissa Malfoy will not want to stay in this place."

"It was the Black family home. She'll be fine. I don't think she'd be happier at Spinner's End, and she may well prefer to stay at St. Mungo's. My decision is made, and it's final."

Snape narrowed his eyes and looked as if he wanted to say something more, but gave it up for hopeless. "Tell the Order that I regretfully had to take my leave early."

Harry smiled and waved.

--

There seemed little point in pretense anymore. Narcissa had decided to remain at St. Mungo's. Ron and Hermione knew they were together. The whole of the Weasley clan appeared to know it. Remus didn't, but when did Draco ever care what Remus Lupin thought? Still, Draco stubbornly waited until the middle of the night to slip into Harry's bed. They'd been kissing a few minutes, sliding their bodies together with their hands on each other's pricks when Harry finally broke the kissing. "I want to... do it."

"Put your mouth on it again?" Draco's voice was leaden with hope and breathy with desire.

"I mean... yes... well, no... I mean... I want to... you know..." he whispered, sliding his hand down Draco's side to squeeze his arse. They'd pawed at each other's arses in the course of snogging, and Harry had ventured his finger there when he put his mouth on Draco, but they had yet to speak of it. Just as they had yet to speak of what any of this meant.

"Oh. Um... Oh." Draco rolled onto his back as if his arse needed protecting. Harry could positively feel him clenching. He'd never felt like more of a pervert.

"It's just that... well, I'd like to... it's supposed to... you know... feel good." To help make his point, he caressed his hand over Draco's cock slowly.

"It didn't feel good when I had the... feather duster...there." Closing his eyes, Draco crocked his hips forward automatically, arching into Harry's touch. It was Draco's weak spot, and Harry fully intended on exploiting it. He wondered if that was wrong, but decided that if it were wrong, no one would ever put it anywhere.

"That's a feather duster. It's bound to be loads better to have it in there, otherwise people wouldn't do it." It was as sound a reason as Harry's hormonal mind could piece together and really, to him it sounded completely reasonable.

Had Draco's expression not been so blissful because of the wanking, he might've looked confused. "I suppose that makes... sense..." he breathed. Grabbing Harry by the back of the head, he pushed his face between his legs. "I'm not sure it would fit."

"If I put my mouth on it, can I at least try?" Harry had the distinct feeling he was begging, but he preferred to think of it as bargaining. He breathed through the silky pyjama pants to tease Draco, hoping that would sell the idea.

It worked. "Yes, fine..." Draco whined. He released Harry's hair to shove his pyjama pants down, kicking out of them as he pulled his top off.

This seemed like a really bad time to ask Draco to shower, so Harry decided to rough it. He'd faced down Voldemort; certainly a less-than-pristine-prick wasn't going to kill him. Starting with long, slow licks, he found that other than a bit salty, Draco didn't taste much different this way. He settled in between Draco's legs after briefly pausing to pull his t-shirt off.

Keeping his mind on the idea of being inside of Draco, and how great that was going to be, he sucked the cockhead into his mouth and played his fingers over the shaft. This time, he wasn't going to test Draco by putting his fingers in there. He'd just wait. He didn't want to deter him.

Harry tried to keep his teeth covered with his lips, while keeping the suction. It was difficult, but he was mostly managing it, although he was making loud slurping sounds. This didn't seem to bother Draco at all, as he was bucking his hips forward, nearly gagging Harry. Draco made a few more loud gasps, covering his mouth with his arm when it appeared that he couldn't keep himself quiet.

Feeling his mouth fill with the warm, slippery fluid, Harry pulled away and pointed the cock from his face sagely. He swallowed what was in his mouth and smeared the rest into Draco's belly as he continued to pull at his shimmering, wet prick.

Now, Harry was nervous.

As much as he wanted to do this, he had little clue how to go about it. Amongst Dudley's various muscle and wrestling magazines had been one rather worn copy of a magazine that appeared to be wrestling of a different sort altogether. Harry didn't remember much about it, other than the expressions on their faces and a vague notion of a man on all fours with another behind him. He didn't think it would be a good idea to explain to Draco how he'd come by this knowledge, he just preferred to allow him to believe Harry was just that worldly. Besides, he was pretty sure his voice would waver.

After allowing Draco a few moments to catch his breath, Harry pulled on Draco's hip to get him to roll over. Seeming to understand that he needed to get on his knees, Draco did so, leaving his arse up, pink hole exposed. Harry stared for a moment and then traced his finger over it. This was it. He would put himself in there and they wouldn't be virgins anymore.

Draco was trembling as much as he was. Harry wanted to say something to reassure him, but what could he say? He got up onto his knees and slid his hand over his cock a few times. It was hard enough already, it felt as if every nerve in his body was concentrated just there, his heart hammering a thundering pulse between his ears to the tip of his prick.

Placing his cock against the opening, he was just about to push when Draco's hand appeared on his abdomen to stop him. "Wait."

"What?" Harry was aware of just how high and tight his voice was. He didn't want to sound that tense, but he was just about to.... and then he was stopped and... Somehow he was even more scared than he'd been at the start.

"Snape put something on the... erm... duster. Lotion or something. So it wouldn't... um... so it would go easier." Draco pulled forward to get his arse out of harm's way as if Harry would've thrust into him mid-protest.

"Where did he get the lotion?" Harry was feeling wild at this moment. Lotion. Where was lotion? Lotion in the bathroom? Hand lotion? Face lotion? He didn't care. He ached with the want to do this and now lotion was holding him up.

"There was a spell, I guess. It came from his wand." Draco looked over his shoulder at Harry, and was that little asshole smirking?

Harry squeezed his cock, willing it not to be quite so rigid in Draco's sight. "What was the spell?"

"Dunno, he didn't say it aloud." Yes, Draco was definitely smirking.

"There's lotion in the bathroom." Maybe it wasn't the right lotion, but it was pretty clear that Draco wasn't interested in helping. Harry hopped off of the bed, scampered into the bathroom and very nearly unseated the cupboard to get at the lotion. Once found, he brought it into the bedroom and squeezed way more than was likely necessary onto his hand. He held his hand up to show it to Draco and then smeared it over his cock as he resettled on the bed.

Draco nodded and moved back to his position on all fours. His head sagged between his shoulders. "He said I should try to relax."

Can we stop talking about Snape right now? Harry bit back the urge to snap, he knew Draco was probably just nervous. This might well hurt; Harry had no idea, really. The men in the magazine seemed pretty happy about it, so he assumed everyone should be. "All right," he whispered, as much for himself as for Draco. As a last minute bit of affection, he slid his hand over Draco's back, already filmed in nervous sweat. He kissed his spine and then lined himself up again.

Still holding his cock in place, afraid it would slip, he pressed in. There was a whirl of sucking heat, mostly concentrated around the head of his cock. He could really only get halfway in, but that was all it took. As excited as he'd been and with the overwhelming feeling of sucking flesh around him, Harry lost himself to the feeling of near-weightlessness. He shuddered, biting his lip, as he felt his body tighten and the rush of release. It only took one half thrust and he was coming. He'd be embarrassed later, but for now, he was filled with nothing but an intense feeling of excitement. They were no longer virgins, and he'd been inside of Draco Malfoy.

At least briefly.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw Draco a few feet from where he'd been, clinging to the headboard and staring at him with wide-wet eyes in incredulity. Harry looked down at his cock in his hand, still dribbling seed and then back up at Draco.

"Bloody hell, what did you put in me?" whispered Draco harshly.

"I... just... my..." Harry flushed brightly. "It didn't feel good?"

By Draco's expression, Harry guessed it must not have. He must've done it wrong. Sitting back on his heels, he stared dejectedly at his cock and the darkening wet spots on the sheet.

"...no..."

"Oh." He didn't know what to say. It felt incredible to him. He didn't know what he'd done wrong, but then, he didn't know much about this to begin with. Worse yet, he didn't know who to ask. Obviously Snape would know, but he was the last person he would ask. "Well, um... next time you can do me?"

"I don't want to hurt you." Draco had come undone from the headboard and was easing his way back onto his side of the bed.

"Did it really hurt that much?" Harry reached for his wand and charmed away the mess on the sheets. He didn't want to hurt, he wasn't a masochist, but fair was fair and he supposed he deserved it.

"I... I don't know. It's like... it hurts like after you've... waited a long time to go to the bathroom." He pulled the covers up to his shoulders and Harry slid next to him. Neither of them had gotten dressed again, which pleased Harry. He loved feeling the close warmth of Draco's skin against his.

"That doesn't sound... good. I'm sorry. I must not... be doing it right." He held Draco tightly, happy that he didn't flee. He still felt a happy flutter in his stomach that they'd done it, even if it had hurt. They'd done it together. It would always be Draco he remembered for all of these firsts, and that thrilled him in a way he couldn't place. His mind drifted to what Hermione had said, then to that moment with Voldemort when Draco said he loved him, when he thought they'd have more time. Now they had plenty of time, nothing but time, if they were going to be stuck here a while. "I can find out how to do it better."

"That was... well, I guess... well, that's why he was using the feather duster... or why he said he was. That it was... that um... I needed to be worked open... to relax when um... so, I guess... well, he wanted to put his finger there, but I didn't want him to touch me, so..." Harry clutched Draco tightly. He wasn't sure if Draco was upset or just embarrassed. Either way, Harry didn't want to hear any more about Snape, although the point that perhaps starting small was wise had been made.

"Shh... all right. We'll... find the feather duster." Harry felt Draco tuck his head against his chest. Perhaps that was a bit coarse. "Or something. You can try it on me."

Draco tightened his arms around Harry, but didn't respond. The subject was closed, which was good as Harry was too spent to say much more.

--

By now, Harry was used to the routine. He'd've been more surprised if Draco had been there that morning. After the real sex debacle, he counted himself lucky that Draco was around at all. Maybe he shouldn't have, but it did look like Draco had quite a fright.

He followed his nose downstairs after cleaning up and throwing on some clothing. He wasn't sure who all was living here and who wasn't at this point, but it would seem that Remus was definitely living here. He observed him sitting at the table, hunched over his fry up and tea. Past needs and current wants collided. Maybe it would be overstepping the boundaries of their friendship, but Harry had seen Remus as a father figure in the past, at least. It wasn't as if he needed the full up chat on the birds and the bees, just a crash course in buggery.

Flushing at the crudeness of even his thoughts, he took a seat across from Remus, who smiled at him and politely summoned tea and a plate for him to serve himself from. Harry thanked him briefly and stirred his tea, pondering how to bring this up. He supposed it should be done delicately, as he had no idea what Remus's sexuality really was. Well, he supposed he did know, as he'd at least semi-consented to dating Tonks. He'd gotten a strange vibe that Remus and Sirius had been more than friends, but as that avenue was closed off, it didn't seem to matter much.

"Bee in your bonnet, Harry?" Remus set his fork down after picking at his food. He folded his napkin and set it just under his plate.

"I'm sorry?" Caught by surprise, Harry's mouth was somewhat full still, but he managed to make himself heard.

Remus chuckled. "You just look as if you want to ask me something. It's all right, you know. You can ask me whatever you need to."

It took a moment to finish chewing, but when he had, he set his utensils down. He wasn't terribly hungry anyway. After a glance to the door, he looked at Remus. "Even if it's about sex?" he whispered.

His smile faded, but only just a bit. Remus tilted his head to the side and nodded. "I'll admit that my experience with the fairer sex is a bit lacking, but I will share with you what I know."

I knew it! While Remus's smile was fading, Harry's grew. Brilliant! If Remus's experience with females was limited, that must mean that he's been with more men. Naturally. "That's all right. I was rather in need of knowledge pertaining to... er... experience with the male sex. More specifically... how to um... do it so that it doesn't hurt."

Remus paled and his eyes widened. He grabbed the edge of the table and stared at Harry in utter shock. His mouth moved, but no sound came out.

"Remus?"

"What makes you think I'd know anything about that?" asked Remus, his voice high and tight, almost like Draco's could be, only somehow fraught with more tension.

"I... you said... it's just that... well... I don't know, it's... would... I..." Harry sputtered as Remus stood up and began to pace. "I'm sorry?" he offered quietly.

Remus was just about to answer when Molly and the twins came down from the stairs. "Is everything all right?" Molly inquired.

"Harry was just asking me about... sex," Remus blurted.

The twins guffawed before covering their mouths. Molly looked away from Harry and Remus while Harry tried to shrink back into his chair, praying that he could make himself invisible.

"Well, Harry's a teenager," said Molly evenly. "Of course he'd be curious, Remus. There is no need to fret."

"Sex with another boy!" Remus exclaimed.

Harry wanted a hole in the Earth to swallow him away, never to return.

"As he's been seeing a boy, that would make sense." Molly began cleaning up, not looking at anyone. Fred caught Harry's eye and winked at him and pointed to the pantry. The twins edged towards it as Harry wiped his mouth off. Remus began to say something else, but Molly cut him off, "Oh Remus, don't pretend to be so shocked. Everyone knows he was barking up the right tree."

Part of Harry wanted to stay and confirm his suspicions about Remus and Sirius, but the twins were waving him into the cupboard and it seemed like a good time to escape. He hadn't expected Remus to react that way, but he supposed Remus was expecting questions about Voldemort or transformation. He didn't know, all he did know was that now he was in the dark with two impish twins who were ready to impart their wisdom.

"Buggering Malfoy, eh?"

"Or trying to," Fred joined.

Harry cleared his throat. "Well, it didn't go so well last night...."

"When it comes to the fine art of buggery, there is no such thing as too much lubrication."

"Or preparation."

"Or relaxation."

"Well said."

"I agree."

Not sure who was saying what in the dimness of the cupboard, Harry felt a little dizzy. "So, lubrication? We used hand lotion..."

"Oh no, no. In a pinch it might do, but you need something slicker."

"Quicker."

"Thicker."

"You need this."

A tube was pressed into Harry's hand, and he instinctively took it. He tried to read the label, something about gliding? "So this and... preparation?"

"Yes, fingers."

"One, then two."

"Three is key. Maybe four."

"If you're a whore."

"You just wanted to rhyme. Four is excessive unless you're really massive. Are you massive, Harry?"

It was too dark to know if he was being leered at, but he felt like he was, which made him blush. "I don't think so. Just average. So, three fingers?"

"Slowly, though. You have to wait till the person receiving is relaxed enough."

"Really, it's about relaxation. Who's being buggered?"

"Me, I think. We tried... the other way, but..." Harry blushed again, hopefully no one noticed. He pushed the tube into his pocket.

"You could practice."

"In the shower."

"Or the bathroom."

"Get used to the feeling."

Harry cleared his throat. "Is it... that much to get used to?"

The twins looked at one another and then shrugged. "Not so bad as the rumour would have you believe, but it doesn't feel great at first. There's a spot inside that feels good if you put your finger in and bring it forward, like this," George demonstrated. At least Harry thought it was George. Harry mimicked the movement. "Exactly. It's something hard there. You won't know to the touch, but you'll know you found it by the noises."

That would perhaps explain the picture he'd seen of the men who seemed to be enjoying it so much. Someone had to be enjoying this, right? "So, practice on myself, finger like this," he said, crooking it for them, "and it should go all right?"

"It'll still hurt a bit; just... try to push out when he's pushing in. It helps. Or so I've heard." The twins snickered.

"How do you two know so much?"

Before Harry could get an answer, the twins were out of the cupboard with Molly asking them what they were doing. "Just trying to make Harry feel more at home-- you know he grew up in a cupboard...." With that deliberately rude statement, Molly was on them and Harry was able to sneak out of the kitchen.

--

Painful wasn't the right word for this. The Cruciatus Curse was painful. Falling off of his broom was painful. This was just... uncomfortable. Awkward. Awkward was the perfect word to express how Harry felt with his cheek pressed against Draco's silk-covered pillow with his arse chilled in the air with Draco's greased fingers sliding in and out of him. It had ached in a strange way at first, but he remembered what the twins had said about pushing out when Draco was pushing his fingers in, and it did seem to help.

Draco, bless him, was trying to find the spot inside of him that was supposed to feel good. In his anxiousness to find it, he'd been poking rather erratically to the point that Harry kind of wanted to get this over with; especially since Draco had rather maliciously forced him to shower before he'd put his mouth on it. Harry was spent and now in what he thought to be a singularly un-erotic position. Just what were those men in that magazine doing differently? Maybe it was better when you got older.

"They said something was going to feel good?" Draco asked for the hundredth time.

"Yes, they said to curl your finger like this." Harry curled his finger at Draco... for the hundredth time. He had two fingers inside of him, curling and pressing and nothing felt good or bad in particular-- just stretched in a way that made the sweat prickle on his skin like the sudden onset of a fever.

"Like that?"

Fuck it. "Oooh, yes, like that Draco." He pushed back against Draco's fingers praying that he wouldn't get any more neurotic. Harry hoped he was a good enough actor. "More... I want you to do it. Just do it."

Draco's fingers stopped and he sighed. "You're faking." He huffed and sat back on his heels and Harry looked at the fuzzy glasses-less form behind him. "Am not."

"Do you really think we've been fooling around all this time and I don't know what you sound like when you moan?" He flipped his hand around so that his palm was no longer up and continued to work his two fingers into Harry.

Feeling a third one enter, Harry groaned and hid his face against his forearm. It wasn't a good groan or a bad groan, really. He still wasn't sure what to make of this sensation. Then he felt something press just behind his cock. It was a brush of finger or something, but it was nice. Harry pushed back into it, hoping that it would happen again.

The movement on the bed indicated that Draco was sitting up again. "Mmm..." Harry moaned as he felt it again. He wriggled his hips against Draco's fingers, arching his back and pushing back in a way that he hoped would scratch that itch deep inside of him. It happened again and he gasped as he fisted his hands into the pillow.

"Curled forward... just the other way," Draco grumbled. Harry barely heard it. He'd had Draco's fingers inside of him long enough at this point that he could focus purely on this new feeling. He hissed through his teeth as the need for more stroking there led him to be careless and his arse pinched at the awkward way Draco's fingers were entering him.

He reached to his stiffening cock and pulled at it a few times, feeling that delicious pressure just behind his prick that seemed to be forcing his need to come again. Distantly he could feel Draco's lips on his spine, the warmth of his body against him and the hardness of Draco's cock poking at the cleft of his arse. Draco wasn't pulling his fingers out; he was going to finger fuck him into coming and Harry was far from objecting.

Hand a blur on his cock as he pulled it, Harry watched the sudden spurt of white from the tip of his cock, spilling down over his fingers and dribbling onto the sheets. He was working hard against Draco's fingers, his body wet with effort of his second orgasm and the seizure of fresh experience. When Draco's fingers slipped out of him, he felt empty, his muscles clenching, stretching in a solemn ache, a need to be filled.

It didn't take but a moment for Draco to line himself up with Harry's opening. The entry was a little rough, but he finally pushed solidly into Harry with a long, slow inhale. He just held him there, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist, either letting Harry get used to the feeling, or adjusting himself. Harry smiled. He was exhausted, but he could certainly identify with that sudden, dizzying sensation of being inside, surrounded by lush warmth for the first time and never wanting it to end.

Harry decided to help Draco by canting his hips forward and then pushing back slowly, experimenting with the way their bodies could move together like this. Draco whimpered and held tightly to Harry, grabbing his hips to stop him, sinking his nails in if Harry didn't stop right away. This was worth waiting for, even if it was a little odd feeling, just hearing Draco that helpless, feeling him so needy as he slid back and then slowly in again, pale lips moving in a fuzzy ethereal prayer. All at once, Draco's face went bright red and he pitched forward in an articulated thrust followed by a quick series of hard pumps and then he fell with his full weight against Harry's back and they both collapsed against the bed.

Draco slipped his hand over Harry's and wove his fingers between them. Harry clutched them and sighed happily as he closed his eyes.

--

The next morning Harry awoke with hair in his face, but he wasn't going to get his hopes up again. It was ridiculous to get all excited only to see that Draco had stuffed Lolly into his arms.

Except that he'd destroyed Lolly to eliminate the final fragment of Voldemort not long after he'd awoken. It had been disconcerting to see a piece of himself bound by the serpentine limbs of Voldemort float from the stiff fluff of the destroyed toy, but he also felt freed by it. A piece of his soul was going to be lost by his having to kill Voldemort; it was a sacrifice he was marked to make since he was born. It was unavoidable. He just hadn't expected to physically see the part of him floating away like a vaporous mist.

Out of reflex, he brought his hand up to his forehead as if the scar would have vanished from the simple act of Voldemort's death. Draco yelped.

Harry's eyes flew open to find one of his fingers in Draco's nose. They'd certainly changed positions since they'd fallen asleep, but Draco was there. It was morning and Draco Malfoy hadn't skipped out of their bed to wash up. He checked the clock and it was half ten, well beyond when Draco normally rose. "You're still here!"

"Ugh, Potter, your breath," Draco whined as he turned his wincing face away.

He didn't care; Draco was just Draco and would be obnoxious. It was hardly the point. It felt like a victory to have him there, as if it made everything more real. He grabbed Draco tighter and kissed him, steadfastly ignoring that Draco was quite right about morning breath. He felt a subtle soreness in his posterior, but it was a fading ache, a happy reminder of what they'd done.

"You're disgusting," Draco huffed at Harry after their kiss was over, but he didn't pull away.

"You love me." While Harry knew he was pushing it, he couldn't help himself. After what they'd done, what they'd been through, he needed to hear it, needed to know it.

"And delusional." Harry liked to think that Draco's smirk was a fond one rather than mocking this time.

"No, you love me and you love Ron."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh please. I just wanted you to kill Weasley first. Don't mistake Slytherin cunning with actual feeling, Potter."

Normally this would've dissuaded Harry, but he knew the truth. "No, if you were just saying that and didn't mean it, it wouldn't have bound our circle of three in love. Voldemort would've won. Like it or not, you meant it."

Not missing a beat, Draco responded with, "So?"

"So you love me." Harry squeezed him tighter and kissed Draco's face as he tried to squirm away.

"I need a shower."

"And Ron. You're so full of love, Draco!"

"ARGH!" Releasing Draco, Harry lay on his side and watched him stomp off petulantly to the bathroom. He waved at Draco when he turned around to glare at him one last time before slamming the door, memorizing the coy grin on his face that he didn't think Harry could see.