Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy || Drarry

Chapter Seven

Draco woke with a gasp, heart racing and blinking fiercely into the darkness as the image of the plummeting fall slowly faded from his mind. He tugged the sweaty fabric away from his skin with a grimace. He remembered that he was still wearing Potter's clothes and dragged the t-shirt over his head, wadding it up into a ball and throwing it across the room.

He pushed the blanket down to his feet and grabbed the plastic shopping bag he had left on the end of his mattress. Draco left Potter's baggy joggers in a crumpled pile on the bathroom floor, unceremoniously kicking them under the sink. He took another shower, turning the dial for hot water until it wouldn't go any further, but the water remained pleasantly warm and refused to get any hotter. But at least it washed the sweat from his skin.

He shaved and brushed his teeth, putting his small neon coloured toothbrush next to Potter's boring blue one. Potter hadn't been in the flat when he had come back from his day with Elle, and from how unsettlingly quiet everything remained, Draco guessed that Potter was still out. It was mildly baffling what Potter would be doing out in the middle of the night. He hadn't struck Draco as the type to go out clubbing.

The last things left in the bag were a few items of clothes. Pants, jeans that were too stiff, black t-shirts sold in packs of three and some very soft socks that Elle had found. A few cleaning charms helped make the jeans softer; he added tailoring spells to lengthen the legs and tighten the waist. Draco pulled on a t-shirt and brought the fabric up to his nose without thinking, but it just smelled like new clothes and plastic.

Draco dropped all the extra things on the end of his mattress and walked into the dark living room, using a lumos to find the light switch on the far wall. Somehow the light made the room feel emptier than it had been before. He went into the small horseshoe-shaped kitchen and put the kettle on to boil, opening cupboards until he found Potter's tea.

There were boxes of black tea, bags of fancy green teas mixed with fruit, and a few herbal teas, all shoved haphazardly on the same shelf. Draco went through and smelled each one while he waited for the water to boil, picking a sweet green tea mixed with coconut, lemongrass and ginger. Potter had nearly as many mugs as he did teas. Draco sat on the countertop as he took out each mug and examined it. There was a bright orange Chudley Cannon's mug, a Weasley's Wizard Wheezes mug, a black mug that had 'reading is lit!' written in white, a mug emblazoned with the Gryffindor seal, wrapped in red and gold-

A shrill whistle from the kettle made Draco jump, and he quickly moved it off the heat and turned off the burner.

Draco pushed the other mugs aside until he found the largest one, a green and gold Holyhead Harpy mug. The paint was far more faded and chipped than on the other mugs.

Draco filled the mug, cradling it in his hands as it heated the ceramic until his hands stung. The small digital clock on top of the oven said it was two in the morning. He stared at the clock as the minutes passed, and water inside the mug began to cool before adding the green tea. The steam lifting from the cup was instantly sweetened, but after three minutes of steeping, he added sugar anyway.

Draco idly scraped his thumbnail over the Holyhead Harpies gold lettering, scratching off the faded paint.

This time of night, he normally would have been leaving a bar. Or already left, to spend the night in someone's arms. Even if he hadn't found someone to go home with, he would have drunk himself blind and passed out in his own bed to sleep most of the next day off.

He had to wonder if days had always been so long. So empty.

Draco sighed and sipped his tea. It was too sweet.