Let Me Love You // DRARRY

Chapter Eleven - Relocation

Harry was merrily strolling along the stone halls with a bounce in his step, his destination; The private quarters for the Defense Against The Dark Arts Teacher. No longer would he have to rub shoulders with the likes of Dean Thomas, or anyone else who didn't hold him with high regards. He was now completely isolated from the people that had betrayed his trust.

Harry had grown to loath the dorms, no longer was the close, family-like intimacy appealing, it was horrendous. Harry had to actively avoid most people in the Boys dorms, for although he had saved the Wizarding world, the all seemed to dislike, or even hate Harry.

The only person he felt like he could talk to was Luna, who would sit up with Harry into the early hours of the morning, just talking about everything and nothing. Luna often suffered form nightmares just like Harry, so when they both felt like they couldn't sleep they would huddle together under a blanket next the the fire and enjoy each other's company. Many would see this as the first blossoms of a relationship, but it had been purely platonic.

Besides, Harry suspected that Luna felt no need for a relationship, the way she babbled about all the wondrous creatures within the world for hours on end made Harry wonder if there would ever be enough space in her heart for anything but Nargles and the like.

But now Harry was free from those burdens, the chains of friendship gone sour. He would be treated as an equal to the Professors, he was a Professor. And he had a smirk to himself when he realised that he would be in charge of Dean Thomas. He was still a senior, meaning that he would be coming to defense against the Dark arts through the week to assist.

And although Harry would have to co-exist with Malfoy within the Classroom, he couldn't bring himself to actually care. Malfoy wasn't the big bad blond wolf plaguing his life any more, he was still a man with a fiery temper and a sharp tongue, but Harry suspected that he would be reasonably civil if he was not provoked.

Harry turned another corner leading to his new living space, walking along the long corridor to meet the dark wooden door, a sign of him further traveling into the world of independence.

It was currently quarter to nine at night, and while Charlie Osborne had been given until morning lo leave the grounds, he had been seen walking out of the school only half an hour after being dismissed by McGonagall. This meant that Harry could move into his new living space straight away.

Harry faintly wondered what Malfoy was doing at the current moment, the blond had been asked to stay while Harry was dismissed from McGonagall and he thought to himself what they might possibly be talking about.

Harry turned the rusted iron door knob, excitement flooding his body. There was some fresh, bitter and disgusting and frankly, embarrassing memories in the room, memories only hours old, Harry just pushed that part of worry away in his mind.

Just as Harry has suspected, house elves had cleaned all traces of the previous occupant away. The only sign that the space had been lived in was scuffs on the floor from centuries of the chairs around a small table being pulled and pushed back and forthand other home-like imperfections. The entire place looked lived in, but pleasant, not unlike the Burrow.

The entire space was rather cosy, but perfect. To the right of the door just five or so meters away was the large, circular table with three tables huddled around it, the faded oak table seemed to have a diameter of one and a half meters with lots of light scrapes across the surface. There was another door on the opposite corner of the table, presumably leading to the bedroom from the slightly grander, darker wood door. One last door was straight a head from the entrance, which Harry guessed was the bathroom.

Harry walked straight into the bathroom, having faith that the house elves would have transported all of his possessions into the sleeping space.

He looked into the mirror, and before him stared back a young man who could have passed as homeless. Bags had formed under his eyes from the recent stress making him crave sleep, meaning he only looked half awake. His hair even more messy and unruly than usual, also due to stress, and with him constantly dragging his hand through his hair it looked slightly greasy. The signs of stubble were coming through again, mainly along his his jawline and Harry decided he needed a shave.