Harry was waiting by the door and shut it behind them. He cleared his throat, "...I don't think you mum likes me very much."

"She only loves four people and is indifferent at best towards the rest," Draco said, "She doesn't really do 'like' if that makes you feel any better."

"Does she know about- about you and me?" Harry asked.

"For about a week now."

Harry said, "She didn't set me on fire so it couldn't have gone too badly. Unless it didn't. Should I be worried about being murdered in my sleep?"

Draco gave him a look, "Really?"

"I was joking?" Harry said.

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's fine," he said, leading Harry into his rooms.

"This is the sitting room," Draco pointed flippantly, "bedroom to the left, bathroom and dressing room to the right."

"Is this... your room?" Harry asked, wandering around and looking through the open doorway into his bedroom.

"Yes? Who else do imagine it belonged to?" Draco said, crossing the table in front of the crackling fireplace. He put down his plate and picked up the abandoned bottle of champagne.

Harry shrugged, "Anyone? Or no one. It looks like a hotel room, a really fancy one but still." He walked around and looked into the bathroom, "I thought there would be more...you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Draco asked filling his glass.

"There are no-" Harry gestured around, "Posters or knick-knacks or even books, you've got to have books."

Draco followed Harry gaze to the muted blue walls, the rugs were blue, white and grey, the drapes were a soft grey as well. The walls were blank, the tables were all empty aside from his nightstand, there was nothing on the floor or on the furniture. It looked almost exactly as is had the day he took the room as his own.

"I have a personal study for all my books and notes," Draco said. He tapped the side of the glass anxiously. "...This isn't the room I grew up in," he said, taking a bracing swallow of champagne.

Harry's brow furrowed.

Draco held out the glass and Harry took it without thinking and then frowned at his hand. "It's champagne," Draco said.

"It's a nice room, I suppose. You must have moved in recently," Harry said, sitting next to him and sipping the champagne, "Oh. This is good."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

Harry shrugged, "They've always got champagne at ministry things, and it's usually crap."

"There's hope for you yet, Harry Potter," Draco said, finishing off his bun.

"I like your nails."

Draco twitched in surprise, turning his hands over to look at them, "I forgot. Pansy did them as a christmas gift."

Harry took one of his hands, running his thumb over the shiny blue-green lacquer, "It suits you, unsurprisingly."

"Why?" Draco asked suspiciously

"Because you look good in everything."

Draco smiled at the praise. "Not true. I look awful in yellow. If you ever buy me anything yellow I will incendio it on sight."

"Not even as a joke?" Harry asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "If that's what amuses you, feel free to indulge."

Harry laughed, "Good thing you weren't sorted into hufflepuff."

Draco shuddered, "Ugh."

Harry laughed again.

"Although, the colours are yellow and black so I could have just worn black," Draco said.

Harry offered Draco the glass of champagne.

"I've had enough," Draco said, shaking his head.

Harry picked up the bottle and poured out the last few swallows, "You can have the rest of that bun if you like."

"Excellent," Draco said, helping himself.

"Is your old room still- Could I see it?" Harry asked.

Draco froze, iced bun halfway to his mouth.

"I'd like to see it."

Draco nibbled on the bun with a frown. He took a deep breath, "Tomorrow then." He quickly changed the subject, "So, I can show you to a guest room, or you can stay here."

"No offence but this place it too creepy to be on my own," Harry said.

Draco said sarcastically, "Is it? I hadn't noticed."

"You don't mind?" Harry asked.

"No."

"It'd probably just be sle-"

"That's fine," Draco said.

"On account of the creepy thing," Harry said.

Draco glared at him, "Yes, thanks so much for bringing it up again."

Harry grinned briefly, "And there might be nightmares."

Draco stared at him flatly for a few seconds then said with faux surprise, "Oh, you meant yourself."

"Ha. Ha." Harry said.

"Do you need anything?" Draco asked.

"Can I use your bathroom?"

Draco nodded, pulling on a pair of pyjama bottoms while Potter was gone.

Harry leaned out of the door, "Hey, do you have a toothbrush I could use?"

"Have you somehow not learned how to do a mouth cleaning charm?" Draco asked as he walked over.

Harry had stripped out of his jumper and jeans, to the baggy teeshirt and boxers underneath.

Harry sighed, "No I have, but mine tastes odd."

"Odd," Draco repeated, "Are you casting it correctly?"

"Yes," Harry rolled his eyes, "everyone's charm turns out different. Hermione's is a strong cinnamon, really strong, and Ron, his charm leaves kind of an orange aftertaste and mine is just strange. None of us could place it."

Draco frowned.

"You didn't know that?" Harry said.

Draco said, "....Mothers and mine are both mint."

"Makes sense, I guess. You are related."

"I did remember hers being milder. I'd always thought I misremembered." Draco looked around, "Where's your wand?"

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Well, now I need to know," Draco said, taking his own wand out of the waistband of his pyjamas and holding it out to Harry.

Harry hesitated, his fingers curling in nervously.

"Come on," Draco said impatiently, "You managed to cast with it perfectly well in the past."

Harry gingerly took Draco's wand and smiled faintly to himself, "Still friendly."

"What does-" Draco stopped mid-question as Harry's charm hit him in the mouth. The lingering taste of iced buns and champagne vanished, leaving a new flavour, mildly sweet and floral.

Harry shrugged with a nervous smile, "See? Strange."

"It's not strange at all! It's violets!" Draco laughed.

"Violets?"

"Candied violets?" Draco said, "Haven't you had them before?"

Harry's brow furrowed, "...Maybe once, when Aunt Marge came to visit. I'm not sure I like violets much."

"Well, I quite like them," Draco said.

Harry gave Draco his wand back, "Will you do me then?"

"Without a doubt," Draco said with a sly grin.

"I didn't mean it like th-!" Harry sucked in a shocked breath as Draco cast the charm, and fell to coughing. "Merlin-!" he gasped, "-that's as strong as Mione's!"

Draco started laughing, and Harry grabbed him, pulling him close and peppering him with mint flavoured kisses until he was too busy being kissed to laugh.

"You're terrible," Harry said with utter exasperation.

"As if you aren't awful, you said so yourself," Draco said with a grin, tracing his fingers over Harry's back.

Harry shivered and wriggled loose, "We should go to bed."

Draco rolled his eyes, "I suppose, if you're done hogging the bathroom."

Harry disappeared inside and grabbed his wand and discarded clothing, "All done."

Draco finished up his nightly routine, washing his face and applying his skin care potions. When he came into his bedroom, Harry had shoved the blankets back and was laying in bed, reading the book that persisted in being the bane of Draco's existence.

Draco sighed.

Harry jumped, looking over the top of the book with a guilty expression, "Sorry. There's not much else to do."

"That's my mother's idea of sex education," Draco gestured to the book, "When I turned thirteen, she got me the first three books, and when she found out I was gay, I got that for christmas."

"It's more than I've ever gotten," Harry said.

"You can borrow it if you like," Draco said, "I've read it."

"You already finished it?" Harry said.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "It's written for children. Challenging literature it is not." He waved at Harry irritably, "Move over, this is my side."

"How is one side any different than the other?"

"It's the one I'm used to, and it's my bed, now move," Draco said

Harry shifted over, flumping back into the pillow, "What are the first three books about?"

"Volume one is about puberty for little wizards, two is about puberty for little witches, and three is about sex," Draco said, sitting on the edge of the bed and kicked off his slippers.

"Why'd she buy you the second one?"

"Why wouldn't she?" Draco said, "Half our classmates are women. It's useful to understand what they're going through, and to provide chocolate when their periods sync up," Draco said, laying back and trying not to feel too self-conscious.

"They do what now?" Harry asked faintly.

Draco laughed, "When women live together they start having their periods at the same time. How many years we've been in school, and you didn't know that? You ought to borrow the other books as well."

"I should," Harry admitted. He closed the book and handed it to Draco to put back on the bedside table. "I like the photo."

Draco set the book with the other two he had been reading and looked at Tulip's picture set beside the lamp, "We had just gotten back from break."

"Who took it?" Harry asked.

"Tulip. Mother's personal elf," Draco said, "She's obsessed with photography. She must use all her spending money on paper and developing liquid."

Harry rolled on his side towards Draco, "Spending money? Is she a free elf?"

Draco sighed, "No. And before you say, we did offer it to them if they wanted it. Most elves don't."

"Why wouldn't they?" Harry said, frowning, "That can't be right, they must be scared or-"

"They weren't," Draco said flatly.

Harry sat up, looking ready to get in a strop."How do you know for sure? After how Dobby was treated! It would be- I can't imagine..."

Draco took a deep breath, "You don't have all the information, Potter. Let me explain."

Harry opened his mouth then stopped. He pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes with one hand, "...Yeah, alright."

"In elven hundred and four, a group of wizards and the huddle leaders, house elves call their leaders huddles-"

"Is this a history lecture-?"

"Shut up. They met to broker an official agreement between all the elves and wizardkind of the isles." Draco said, "You see, house elves need magic places to live and raise families, they used to live in the old forests, which were rich in magic but men cut most of them down and too few remained. So they began living in the homes of wizards, especially older, magic rich homes."

"Really? Why don't I- Why doesn't Hermione know this?" Harry said.

"Have you ever heard that history is written by the victors? I found most of this information in old private family libraries," Draco said.

Harry lay back down, "But you don't- didn't-? care about house elves?"

"It was the task I was given by my father, primarily to keep me too busy to be used as a tool while still doing something necessary for-" Draco hesitated, not liking the first words that came to mind, like us, "- for everything," he finished lamely.

"Necessary?"

Draco nodded, "Bellatrix killed one of the elves in a fit of anger and the next day they were all gone."

"Because you broke the agreement, the one made in eleven-o-something," Harry said.

"Right," Draco said, "It said that the elves could stay in a wizarding home in exchange for labour, to be decided by the wizard in question; and yes it was written that vague in the agreement and was immediately taken advantage of.

"If a wizard wanted an elf to leave, to unbind them from his home; he would give them clothes, a bundle to see them on the road. An elf would serve a household in good stead so long as they were safe, but any home that threatened an elf's life and livelihood unbinds them all."

"Then where did Tulip come from? And the surly one that opened the door?" Harry asked.

Draco smiled briefly, "Kipper is the surly one. He was the only one to come back after the war. Tulip and Suppy, who does our cooking, came from different houses.

"Traditionally, to get more elves, you speak to the head of the house and just buy them. But with everything that happened... I made sure to find elves that both the huddle and the head of the house would be willing to part with and that the elf themselves would want to come," Draco fought back a yawn, reaching down and pulling the blanket and comforter up to his chin.

"So now you know them," Harry said.

Draco blinked, "What?"

"You said before that you didn't know Dobby," Harry said.

"Oh, yes. I suppose I did," Draco said.

"Would you consider telling Hermione all of this? It's really important to her."

Draco sighed, "There's a good chance it would only make things worse."

Harry's brow furrowed, "How? Wizards haven't been honouring the agreement. They're supposed to provide somewhere safe for house elves to raise their families."

"But you're very kind," Draco said pointedly. "Like I said, the agreement is extremely vague. They don't have to keep house elves safe or comfortable, they just can't kill them."

"That's horrible."

"And the wizengamot is full of hateful old fucks who are good at manipulating details to suit themselves," Draco said, "They won't be kind."

"Will you give it to her anyway?"

Draco shrugged, "Alright. I suppose if anyone can bully the wizengamot into behaving it would be Granger. I would quite like to see that."

Harry shifted closer to the centre of the bed, and Draco felt Harry's knee bump his.

Draco snorted.

"Don't laugh," Harry grumbled.

"Laughing at you is one of the finest pleasures in my life," Draco said.

Harry shook his head. He slowly pulled off his glasses, rubbing his cheek into the pillow, "I shouldn't have yelled at you."

Draco took Harry's glasses and set them on the nightstand. He used his wand to turn off the lights in the room, leaving on two lights in the sitting room, so a faint glow filtered into the bedroom.

"I have trouble with my temper."

"I noticed," Draco said. He could just make out Harry's outline, his hair sticking up, his eyes catching just enough light that Draco thought he could still see the green. "It's fine."

"I'm not so sure about that," Harry said softly.

"It's fine because you didn't lose your temper. I told you to listen, and you did. I mean..." Draco bit his bottom lip absently, glad it was too dark for Harry to see him flush, "I can't make my nerves just disappear. All I can do is try to fix it a little at a time. So as long as you're doing that, then it's fine."

Harry tipped his face deeper into his pillow, clearing his throat, "Yeah?"

Draco rolled onto his side, hooking a leg over Harry's and letting their feet tangle together, "It very well ought to be because I haven't a fucking clue otherwise."

Harry huffed a faint laugh and was quiet. Draco was starting to think he'd fallen asleep when Harry asked, "Why don't you ask me about things?"

Draco blinked.

"Draco?" Harry said quietly.

"What? What do you mean?" Draco asked.

"Well... I ask you things all the time, and you haven't really asked me anything, other than what my favourite season is." Harry said.

"I ask you things."

"Not important things," Harry said, "Do you not want to?"

Draco frowned, "Of course I want to."

"Then why don't you?" Harry asked.

"Because you're... you're a very private person," Draco said carefully.

"....I- yeah but, you're rather an exception now," Harry said.

"An exception, am I? I'm honoured Mr Potter," Draco teased, mostly to hide how appallingly happy he felt.

Harry groaned, "You know what I mean."

"Oh, do I now?" Draco said.

"Yes," Harry said, "Ask me whatever you like."

"Very well." Draco thought for a second then asked, "Then will you show me where you grew up?"

Draco could hear Harry's startled intake of breath.

"I..." Harry broke off. "...It's been sold, I think."

"You could show me around the memory of it in a pensive," Draco said.

"It's nothing special."

"Will you show me anyway?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded, his words faint, "I'll- yeah. We can do that."

"Thank you," Draco said.

Silence stretched out between them.

Harry shifted under the blankets and took Draco's hand, "Night, Draco."

"Goodnight, Harry," Draco said softly.