The Phoenix and The Dragon

“Harry, Harry please don’t be mad, I just-” His secret space under the loose floor board was open and the brunette growled. How dare Malfoy. Stupid prat, Harry thought furiously, as he surged forward off the bed and tackled Draco to the floor. If Malfoy didn’t get his act together this arrangement they had was never going to work. They wrestled like old times for a moment but Harry easily won the tussle and sat smugly across Malfoy’s lap, a knee on each side and a palm pinning each of Malfoy’s wrists to the hard wood.

“I win, now explain to me why exactly I’m supposed to trust you when I wake up to you going through my things!”

“I was looking for my wand!” Harry snorted. “To fix your eyes!”

“Yeah, stab them out more like. Did you find it?” Malfoy’s eyes became nothing more then icy slits in his pale face.

“You know damn well I didn’t.”

“Why would I make it so easy for you Malfoy? Do you think I’m stupid?” He paused as Malfoy calculated a response and his face relaxed.

“Sometimes.” He was smirking and Harry wondered what hand Malfoy was trying to play but the blonde’s poker face was impeccable. He’d always admired that about the Slytherin, it must have come from years of compartmentalizing emotions to convey the coldest veneer possible. Hermione would be proud of his assessment. Harry huffed and pushed himself off his new roommate.

“Fine, be a dolt. But don’t look anymore because you won’t find it and I don’t want to have to watch you all the time.”

“Fine” Then he laughed, “Like you can help watching.” Harry blushed again but Draco wasn’t finished. “You’re more paranoid then Mad-Eye.” Harry figured the pause was just to make him squirm.

“Whatever, I’m going back to bed and you’re coming with me.” He sputtered at his own sentence. “To sleep…on your side…in pants.”

“Yes master, right away sir!” Malfoy faked a salute and sauntered to the closet.

“Shove off Malfoy.” Harry slouched back to bed and curled up, listening as Draco riffled through the clothes. When the blond slid in beside him Harry waited until he could hear Draco’s breathing even out before falling back to sleep.

The sun was up and the birds were chirping and Harry Potter was laying awake thinking about the upcoming evening. It was hard to be nervous when everything felt so bright. Aside from the soft snores of his bed mate the summer noises went uninterrupted. But that night, he knew, would feel different. It would feel dangerous and exhilarating and nothing like the warm peacefulness he felt that moment.

“I hate birds.” Draco’s mumble, soft from sleep, cut the haze of Harry’s thoughts.

“Why? I love them.”

“I hate birds because they’re chipper at an hour when nothing should be chipper.” Draco rolled over and leaned on his elbow to look at Harry. His eyes, though as icy grey as ever were lidded and his skin was flushed from sleep. Harry noted how the blonds fine white-blonde locks puffed out at funny angles from the pillow and how deep his tenor sounded.

“Nice hair.” Draco huffed and flung himself back over onto his pillow.

“Fuck you too Potter.”

“You know your manners seriously deteriorate in the morning.”

“I’m a late riser, what the fuck time is it?”

“Eight-ish.”

“Bloody hell I shouldn’t be up for another…four hours.”

“You’d miss breakfast.”

“I’d get lunch.”

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

“And lunch is the biggest meal of the day.”

“Breakfast food only comes once a day.”

“I eat breakfast food for dinner when I can.”

“Well you can’t in this house.”

“Shut it Potter, it’s too early to argue!” He buried his face deep in the pillow and yanked the covers over his head. Harry meanwhile got up and walked across the room. He knocked on the door and as the bolts were being thrown back, presumably by Aunt Petunia, he smirked over his shoulder.

“And did I mention you’ll miss all the hot water?” Draco mumbled something into the pillow and proceeded to flip on to his stomach and spread out over Harry’s side as well as his own. “Suit yourself.”

When Harry returned to the bedroom Draco was still asleep but on his back. A thin line of drool had dried on his cheek. Harry got dressed and walked over to the end of the bed. With a smile and a swift pull the comforter was pulled to the floor. Harry, to his horror, was face to face with Draco’s noticeably large morning erection. He noted in the back of his mind that the quips Malfoy had made before about his housemates had been, comparably speaking, correct.

“Ugh Potter what is wrong with you?” Harry, blushing, went to the closet and grabbed Draco another set of spare clothes. He tossed them at the blond and turned around.

“Get dressed.”

“Fuck off.”

“I mean it, get up.” Harry heard Draco sit up and breathe in and out through his nose deeply. Then he heard the noise of fabric on skin and soon the blond was standing beside him looking out the window.

“Dressed. Now what?” His voice was still husky but less so then earlier.

“We go downstairs and make breakfast for everyone.”
“Why am I making breakfast for the muggles in this house? Do I look like a house-elf Potter?”

“No, but that’s my status in this house and you’re connected to me. We cook, we clean and tonight we tell Petunia to let us out at seven. Then we get to be wizards again.”

“Bollocks, this house is completely backwards!”

“You think I need to be told?”

“I’m just saying. By the way, I’ve been using your toothbrush.”

“What?”

“It seemed like as good a time as ever to tell you.”

“Lovely, thanks.”

“Just keeping you posted.”

“Uh huh.”

They made breakfast in a companionable silence, eating as they went. Once the Dursley’s arrived in the kitchen the silence went from friendly to hostile. Vernon didn’t say a word as he tucked in and Dudley’s fat fingers shook as he lifted the buttery toast to his lips. Harry wanted to laugh at his cousin’s tremble but before he could squeak Vernon began a tirade about work and being thankful it was Friday and Harry tuned it out easily since he was used to it. He just stood next to Draco in the kitchen doing dishes quietly. He could hear Draco’s teeth grinding beside him. The sound was only interrupted by muttering to do with house-elf work and slave labor and something that sounded a lot like ‘S.P.E.W.’ When the Dursley’s finished Petunia came in a put the dirty dishes in the sink. When she turned to walk away Harry put out an arm before he could help it. He dropped his hand from her wrist but she was looking at him now with a seemingly blank face.

“We need the door to be unlocked at eight tonight.” She nodded once. “And we need it to stay unbolted for when we return.” Draco huffed.

“Don’t you mean if we return Potter?”

“Draco!”

“If?” The bickering teens turned to Harry’s aunt who was no longer blank faced but looked almost concerned.

“Yeah. We are going on a…”

“Mission?” Malfoy interjected.

“Right, mission. And it could go wrong. I mean it shouldn’t but it could. Tomorrow morning Hermione will be visiting to check on us but we should be back by then.” Petunia nodded again but the color was gone from her face and her lips were visibly tighter.

“Well. Be careful then.” Draco’s mouth hung open slightly and Harry knew his did as well. Petunia then turned and walked out of the kitchen to say good-bye as Vernon left for work.

Harry and Draco made their way back upstairs in shock. Once they were back in Harry’s room they sat down, Harry on the bed and Draco in the chair at his desk.

“So your aunt is…strange.” They heard the bolts being thrown and Harry sighed.

“Yeah, well your aunt isn’t any better. In fact I would say worse.”

“I know Potter, I was simply commenting on her, oddly cool demeanor.”

“Remind you of someone?”

“Many in fact but it’s not the same. Theirs come from hate, I don’t know why your aunt is the way she is. She certainly doesn’t hate you.”

“That’s new.” Draco’s eyebrows pulled forward but he didn’t say anything else.

Lunch was much the same except Vernon was thankfully absent and in his place Piers Polkiss ate next to Dudley. Petunia was every bit the doting mother, all smiles and offerings of dessert. Her façade worked almost well enough to keep Piers from noticing Draco.

“So who’s he?” Dudley ignored the whisper but Piers poked him in the ribs.

“Wha?” Little bits of chocolate cake fell onto the table.

“Him,” the boy pointed towards the kitchen, “who is he?” Petunia, seeing Dudley flounder for an explanation, cut in.

“That is Harry’s friend…Drake, from school. Vernon and I agreed to take him in when his parents…went on a skiing mini-break.” Harry secretly applauded her deceit.

“He doesn’t look very dangerous.” Petunia laughed lightly but Harry felt Draco tense. The blonde’s knuckles whitened on the pan he had been angrily scrubbing.

“Oh, he’s not really.” Petunia smiled sharply.

“Then why’s he at that school?” Petunia was about to answer with another lie but Draco cleared his throat. Harry realized that the blond was not used to being talked about as if he was not in the same room. Harry, who was used to this treatment, attempted to grab his companion’s arm but it was wrenched away.

“I am standing right here, you realize I can hear you.” Piers and Petunia turned to him. Harry felt the glares on him and knew he had to control Draco.

“Drac-k. Um, why don’t we go, er, upstairs?” The teeth grinding was back and Harry nervously tugged on Draco’s arm. Piers was confused and by the look of it, Harry noticed, Draco was scarier then the boy had originally thought. Draco turned to glare at Harry.

“Yes. Why not!” He turned and gracefully, although tightly, exited the kitchen and went up the stairs. Harry grinned sheepishly at the other occupants of the kitchen and darted after him. When he got to the landing at the top Draco was red faced, leaning against the door to Harry’s room, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Where do they say we go to school Potter? Why would I be dangerous? What is wrong with my name!?!”

“Shh! Sorry. It’s just Draco is not a common muggle name and, well, they tell people I go to St. Brutus’s School for Incurably Criminal Boys.”

“WHAT!” Harry flung Draco out of the way and in one fluid movement opened the door and dragged the blond inside. Then, to Harry’s astonishment, Draco began laughing. “In-incurably,” he was doubled over and fell side long onto the bed, “criminal!?!” He burst out again and Harry was growing irritated.

“What the hell Malfoy! What is so funny?”

“You. You are not criminal. AT ALL! I mean, how is it possible?”

“Ugh. I know. But no one else does. They hardly even see me anymore, let alone know me.” Draco straightened up on the bed.

“Well they did get one thing right. You are dangerous. Who was that anyway?” Draco scrunched up his face, “He doesn’t look very dangerous…pffft!” Harry laughed.

“Friend of Dudley’s.”

“I see, that explains the vacant expression and bad judging of character. Ha, not dangerous!” Harry laughed again and flung himself down next to the now reclining Malfoy.

“I think I might take a nap.”

“How can you nap at a time like this?”

“A time like what?”

“In six hours we are going to secretly break into the Parkinson estate and enlist the help of a Slytherin, possibly walking into our demise, and you want to take a nap.”

“Well, yeah. It’s one o’clock on a Friday afternoon, after lunch and I want to take a nap. I can’t do anything but worry for the next six hours anyway.” Draco tilted his head and Harry knew he was weighing his options.

“I guess it’ll be good to be rested, just in case.” Harry heard what went unsaid, ‘in case we need to fight our way out.’ Malfoy sighed and laid back.

Soon both he and Harry were out, napping away the warm afternoon.