𑁍︎What if we were real𑁍︎

Chapter Four

No POV

After Harry said Goodnight, Draco couldn't help but feel a weird warmth in his chest. No one says Goodnight in Slytherin. They all just announce them going to bed and that's that. Draco rolls over, his back facing Harry's, as he gets lost in thought. He soon falls asleep, with the thought of how weird this whole thing was.
Harry wakes up a few hours later, confused at where he was. He sat up in bed and looked around. Harry couldn't help but jolt back a bit when his eyes rested on Malfoy sleeping soundly next to him. It took him a moment, but as he became more awake he remembered where he was and why Malfoy was with him. He pulled himself out of bed, grabbed his clothes, and headed to the bathroom for a long shower. They always helped after a night of little to no sleep. 
As he showered, Draco slowly woke up, happy to have been ripped away from the horrible dream that plagued his subconscious. As he sat up and looked around, he was plagued with confusion, just as Harry was, but he soon remembered what had happened. He looked over at the Muggle clock and saw that it was 6 in the morning. He groaned, hating that he had woken up that early. Seeing as it was Saturday, he and the other Slytherins would get one moment of reprieve from their very structured way of living and be allowed to sleep in until no later than 10. But, tonight was apparently not his night. Or rather, morning. He got up and changed quickly, hoping that Potter wouldn't surprise him mid change. But thankfully, Draco was safe. After getting dressed, Draco made the bed, Potters side as well, and then headed over to the kitchen area, where he sat and awaited food to appear. But none did, no matter how much effort he put into conjuring it. He checked the cabinets, hoping to find anything to eat but was only met with meager ingredients. He scoffed, irritated that the abilities he was lacking were limiting him in this way. As he grumbled and pulled out random ingredients he hoped would make pancakes, he didn't hear the sound of the shower turning off. He also didn't hear Potter leaving the bathroom. A soft laugh got Draco's attention, however, and made him turn around to find a slightly wet Potter, only a towel around his hips, and a full grin covering his face. "What the hell is so bloody funny Potter?!" Harry just rolled his eyes, before taking the eggs and salt container our of Draco's hands. 
"Here Malfoy, let me," Harry said, pushing Draco to the table. Draco sat down, muttering several obscenities. Harry searched the cabinets and found all the necessary things for making pancakes and set to work. As he mixed the eggs, flour, and milk, Draco couldn't help but watch him with a  look of amazement. How did Golden Boy Potter know to cook?? He's a pampered git that gets everything handed to him, this is so confusing. 
As Draco sat there confused, Harry fell into the normal rhythm of making someone breakfast. When he poured the batter into the pan, he realized he was moving on instinct and hadn't made enough for himself. Muttering to himself for being forgetful, he finished up and served the food to Malfoy, along with some eggs, bacon, and roasted potatoes. Harry went back and made himself some eggs, as Malfoy dug in, not saying a word of thanks or even paying attention to Harry anymore. He was too focused on how good the food was. It was better than anything he had growing up, and that was made by a house-elf with a vast knowledge of cooking. Harry snorted, grabbing Draco's attention. "Whaat?" he said, his mouth full of food. Harry just lightly laughed some more while shaking his head. After a few moments of oddly comfortable silence, Harry left his food on the counter and started to clean. As he cleaned, Draco looked up to see what stupid Potter was doing and noticed several slightly unnerving things.
Firstly, he had forgotten to make himself food. Then, he didn't even make as much as he did for Draco, only eggs. No toast or any extras. And finally, he wasn't even eating it but instead cleaning the entire kitchen the muggle wAY! And ignoring the growling of his stomach that was so loud, Draco could hear it. 
"What are you doing Potter?" Draco says, unable to stay quiet any longer. Harry turns around, towel in hand, with a confused look on his face. "Um, I'm cleaning?" Draco rolls his eyes "Yes but why. You can do all that with Magic. And, you're not eating first and you barely made anything for yourself. Why are you still playing the martyr, it is only the two of us here. No one to show off for" He said with a sneer. Harry's face changed from confused to cold, catching Draco off guard. He had never seen the Chosen one look so shut off before. "Just leave it Malfoy" Harry mumbles, before turning around to finish his cleaning. Draco can't help but be more curious and more peeved seeing as now Potters stupid eggs were probably cold. "No, we are stuck in here for Merling knows how long and I want my answers." He hears Potter sigh and mutter some things to himself, seemingly ignoring Draco. Harry quickly turns around and stalks out of the kitchen area, forgetting his food, and locks himself in the bathroom. Draco sits there, frozen, not because of Potter ignoring him. But because of the visible tears in his eyes as he walked away. 

As Harry attempted to finish cleaning, he couldn't help but be slightly irritated at Malfoy's constant questioning. It was none of his damn business anyway. But Malfoy couldn't catch a hint and kept going at it. Pretty soon, Harry couldn't help it anymore. With tears in his eyes, he walked off and locked himself in the bathroom, wanting to be free from Malfoys questioning, trying not to let his mind slip into the dark space of his memories. He crouched on the floor and put his head in his hands, realizing the inevitable was about to happen. His vision slowly darkened, finally letting his mind slip into the memories that plagued his dreams. 

A hard banging sounds on the door, waking up 7-year-old Harry. He groggily reaches for his broken glasses and attempts to wake up in the little time he has. "Get up boy!" Uncle Vernon hisses at him through the slats in the cupboard door "Breakfast won't make itself" Uncle Vernon's loud, clompy steps let Harry know that he had walked into the kitchen. Quickly, Harry shoved on his shoes. As he laced up his beaten up, thrift store trainers, he couldn't help but imagine what it was like. What it was like to have a loving Mum and Dad, with more than 2 pairs of clothes that didn't fit at all, with a pet maybe and maybe even some nightwear! But, of course, that was just a dream. Something that he would never reach. He climbed out of the cupboard reluctantly, still clinging on to the hope that his Aunt and Uncle did love him and that he was just their little helper. But that wasn't the case. They didn't care, and they never would. As Harry walked into the kitchen he noticed he was supposed to make them a big Breakfast, reminding him that it was Sunday. "Now boy" Uncle Vernon said in his booming voice, startling Harry "You need to have all of this done by the time we get back from church, understood??" 
Harry bowed his head "Yes Uncle Vernon" and he went to work. As he finished setting everything out, he heard them arrive back home. Quickly making his own plate, he rushed away from the table in hopes to speed eat it in the kitchen without them noticing. As he heard them talking, he shoved bite after bite into his smallmouth, since it had been days since he had eaten last,  and was so engrossed in the task he didn't hear Uncle Vernon get up and walk into the kitchen. "What are you dOING?!" he yelled, "YOU AREN'T ALLOWED TO EAT, YOU SCUM, YOU VILE THING, Y-YOU FREAK!" Harry dropped the plate in shock, causing it to shatter. In his anger, Uncle Vernon raised his hand and slapped and hit Harry over and over again, while yelling slurs and derogatory things at him. Harry cowered on the floor, waiting for it to be over. He should have known better. He should have listened to his Uncle. Why is he such a waste of space? Why why why. 
And it was on that day that Harry realized to never disobey Uncle Vernon ever again. Even if that meant he may die of starvation. Because the freak has to be treated as such. 

Harry's vision came back to him. He sat there shaking for a little over 10 minutes. Only then did he hear the banging on the door, causing him to flinch and remind him of the memory he had just relived. "Potter! Answer me or I swear to the Gods I will blast this door down" but Harry stayed on the ground, curled up and shaking. The memory flashing over and over across his mind. Too stuck in his head. 
The door suddenly opened with a bang, revealing a slightly rough looking Malfoy. But Harry didn't register who it was, just shook more at the remembrance of his Uncle. And, as the darkness claimed him again, he felt a pair of arms wrap around him, lifting him up to rest on their chest. And it was there that Draco Malfoy realized that Chosen One was, in fact, the most broken of them all.