Drarry- Chocolate and Chamomile

8

The next morning Harry woke up earlier than usual and made his way to the kitchen for a much needed dose of caffeine. It was empty, possibly due to the early hour and Harry decided to sit down at the kitchen counter on a high-stool and went through one of the many crosswords Asteria left lying around. He really didn't know what he had expected when he heard the room to Draco's door being opened but he really didn't think the blonde would approach the kitchen aisle, grab a cup of coffee and vanish back to his room without even looking at Harry.

The following days were hell. Added to his feeling of confusion was now the feeling of betrayal, and worse, the feeling of being played. Had it all been a challenge to Malfoy, a game? Had he only wanted to prove that he could get Harry to fall for him only to leave him dumbfounded and hurt? "You look like a lost puppy, mate. Cheer up! What happened to you anyways?", Francis asked on the third day as he made his way into his flatmate's room only to find he hadn't left the bed yet. Francis opened the curtains to let in some natural light. "I've a headache", Harry mumbled into his pillow. "You should go out, get some air", Francis suggested and sat down at the edge of Harry's mattress. Harry shook his head vehemently. "Imma call Hermione, see if she can help. You're acting weird, mate". Francis made it sound like a warning, as if Hermione was some authority figure he should fear. "No, she's busy with work", Harry protested weakly but couldn't even be bothered to lift his head from the pillow. It was true, his story about the headache. It was pounding and utterly abominable, yet he barely noticed it underneath all the questions swirling around in his head.

After contemplating his options, Harry chose to leave his room in order to get Francis not to call Hermione. Not that he didn't want to see her, though. He just really did not have the slightest clue of what to say and lying wasn't an option since she was able to see through him at any point. His head was aching more than before and his vision almost faded from all the sleeping. He poured himself a glass of cold water and sat down next to Francis who was watching a TV-show on one of their three channels. No-one in their flat could be bothered to try to access more than these three but as far as Harry was concerned, they sufficed. "Hey, enough with the long face! Come on", Francis complained amicably. He soon understood that he would not get anything out of Harry and just scooched a little closer and laid a protective arm around Harry. As a response, Harry laid his head on his friend's shoulder.

They sat like that for what seemed like hours and the soap-opera (Francis' guilty pleasure) was actually quite amusing. "I must admit, it really isn't that bad", Harry said after a while. "All the derision from your part has been pointless then,eh? You officially are a fan of Champagne and Roses?", Francis laughed and Harry couldn't help but laugh, too, when he heard the infamous sound of Draco Malfoy's door knob being turned and his laughter died in his throat but Francis kept shaking with laughter. The look that Draco shot them then was officially worse than any he'd shot Harry's way before and given their history, that was fucking bad.

"Can I come in?". Harry was standing at Ron and Hermione's porch, shivering from the cold. The seasons had melted into another without Harry noticing, hence he wasn't wearing anything to protect him from the icy temperatures. "Harry, love, of course! I'm afraid we have to leave in five, though", Hermione explained in a rush. She was already going back to their small kitchen that looked like an outright mess and clearly expected Harry to just follow and close the door behind him. "I'm sorry about the mess. Ron's and my cooking really isn't improving." There were pans and pots scattered across the whole kitchen counter and Harry thought he could identify a... cauldron? "Where are you headed", Harry asked. "We're meeting my parents tonight. Ron's out buying flowers and I'm meeting him at the Apparition point in Chelsea. Is everything alright? You look..." Hermione was now staring at Harry's appearance that, frankly, was a little concerning. His hair was even messier than usual and the dark circles under his eyes were clearly not indicating something good. "Yeah, it's fine. You go ahead and meet Ron. Call me when you're free". "Harry, I'm terribly sorry... I'll definitely call you tomorrow evening, okay? And you're coming over the day after tomorrow for dinner, right?" Harry only nodded.
"But nothing too bad happened, right? I can cancel with my parents for today".
"No, nothing too bad". Only his feelings shattered and stomped on as Champagne and Roses would put it.

If someone had told Harry a sole week ago that he'd be sitting on his bed pondering about the best possible way to approach Draco Malfoy who now was living in his flat and had almost kissed him, he'd have declared that person to be absolutely ludicrous. Now, though, he was slurping the soup Asteria had made him after hearing from Francis that their roommate must have "caught something". Yeah, feelings. There still was no sight of Draco. Neither Asteria nor Francis had seen him leave the flat and both of them told Harry that he'd behaved normally when they saw him make coffee or read the newspaper. So he must be in his room, then, Harry thought.