Draco went back to Gringotts and changed out fifty galleons for muggle money, and got five slips of paper money that seemed far too easy to lose. He hoped it would be enough. He was nervous about taking out any more money until he was certain the job would work out and, hopefully, pay enough to live off of.

Draco headed towards the pub. It was far too early, but he didn't have to wait as Potter was already leaning against the wall outside. He had glamoured himself, with smooth brown hair and blue eyes and no glasses to be seen. It was subtle but changed enough that no one gave him a second look.

"You're early," Draco said.

Potter looked up in surprise, "Did my glamour wear off?" He turned to catch his reflection in the window, "How did you know it was me?"

"Everything else is still the same," Draco said.

Potter looked down at himself, he had swapped his uniform out for jeans and a plain black peacoat, a scarf in Gryffindor red and gold wrapped around his neck.

"I meant... your posture, your body-figure under-" Draco sighed, "I could just tell, alright?"

"Yeah?" Potter grinned, "Alright. Where to?"

"Uh... that is I- I could actually use some advice about that," Draco said, "I was told that the best way to save money would be to buy from muggle shops, but I'm afraid I don't know one from another."

Potter nodded, "What do you need to get? Besides everything."

Draco smiled faintly, "Towels, sheets, shampoo and other toiletries, those sorts of things."

"That sounds like a trip to Asda then," Potter held out his hand, "I'll side-along us to somewhere close."

Draco hesitated and then took Potter's hand. It was warm and calloused in Draco's own. He held on tight as Potter closed his eyes in concentration, and they disappeared in a twisting spinning snap of air. Reappearing between a brick wall and a dumpster.

"Where are we?" Draco asked.

"Behind the Asda, and a bunch of other shops, it's a strip mall," Potter said, "Before we walk around you should probably transfigure your robes. They'll stand out too much otherwise."

Draco looked down at himself, robe, waistcoat, dress shirt, black slacks, shiny black shoes, "It's all I have."

"If you turn it into a coat you won't get cold," Potter said.

Draco just couldn't bring himself to do it, "Can you do it? Something like what you're wearing."

Potter shrugged, "I'll do my best." He drew his wand and Draco closed his eyes.

"All done," Potter said.

Draco dared to look and found Potter had managed a quite nice peacoat in a soft grey, "Thank you."

They walked past the dumpsters to the rows of shops on the front. Potter weaved around the muggles effortlessly while Draco found himself staring around himself and nearly running into people and their wheeled baskets.

A few shops down was the one with the sign Asda, but it was the shop beside it that made Draco stop.

"What's Poundland?" Draco asked.

Potter sighed, "Things that cost a pound, usually, sometimes there are things that are two or three pounds but-"

"Then shouldn't we shop there?" Draco asked.

"I mean, for the smaller stuff," Potter said, "It's great for snacks and cheap food. But the other stuff- it isn't great quality."

"So? I can improve that myself," Draco said, waving a finger like a wand.

Potter nodded, "True. Let's go in then."

The door slid open as they approached, an act of machines rather than sorcery, Potter explained. In inside was an overwhelming array of shelves filled with bright packages, none of which Draco recognised.

Potter picked out some biscuits for him at Draco's request, a mystifying mix of things called Jaffa cakes, Digestives and Lotus that he promised were good. They got tea, sugar and milk as well.

"What about eggs and bread? For like breakfast?" Potter said.

"I don't- I've never really cooked," Draco said, feeling embarrassed.

"Anyone can manage breakfast. I'm sure you can. Some toast, eggs, a little bacon, they have tins of beans if you like them," Potter said.

Draco frowned.

Potter put eggs and butter in the basket, "I'll show you how, after we've shopped. We can have breakfast for lunch."

"Okay..." Draco saw that there was chocolate milk, and impulsively added it to the basket.

Potter grinned, "Try the strawberry too."

Draco added a small bottle decorated with strawberries, "Is- the basket must be heavy."

"It's fine-"

"I'll get another," Draco said, hurrying back to the front of the store.

When he rejoined Potter with a basket of his own, they went down the other aisles, and Draco picked out two mugs, one with strawberries on it, and one with rainbow polka-dots. He would have bought a frying pan as well, but Potter insisted on getting a better one from the Asda.

"It's worth it," Potter promised.

He bought a few more small things he thought he might need. At one pound it seemed like it couldn't cost much, but the many small items added up, turning a fifty paper note into a smaller bill and a confusing amount of coins.

The Asda took more of his money, but he was able to get all the things he wanted to finally live a bit more comfortably. Potter chatted the whole time, occasionally shooting Draco a smile that felt utterly baffling. But Draco found himself returning it most of the time, if a bit hesitantly. Potter was scarily easy to talk to without all their mutual history and baggage hanging between them.

They carried the many bags back around the back of the building, shrinking them down before Potter apparated them back to Diagon Alley right where they had left.

Potter kept his head ducked and turned toward the wall as soon as they landed, trying to avoid being recognised.

"Come on, we can floo to my place," Draco said.

"What?" Potter looked up, "You really want me to come over-?"

"You said you'd teach me," Draco said, "I wouldn't have bought half that food if-"

"No, I will," Potter said hurriedly, "I just didn't want to push. I kind of just took it for granted that you'd be okay with it when we were in the shop."

"I would have said if I wasn't," Draco said. "I'm not the type to lie to make someone feel better. Unless there's something in it for me."

Potter laughed, "That's a very Slytherin answer."

Draco shrugged and headed into the Leaky, tossing the barkeep a few knuts for a pinch of floo powder, "Call Wheezes Potioneering Wonders," he told Potter.

"What?" Potter stopped in his tracks, floo powder leaking from between his fingers.

"Wheezes Potioneering Wonders," Draco said more slowly.

"I- I heard, but you're staying there?" Potter asked.

"Is there something wrong with where I'm staying?" Draco asked, playing dumb.

Potter shook his head, "No, it's- I'll tell you later," he nodded to floo.

Draco flooed through, stepping into the workshop and nodding to the employee watching the cauldrons. Potter stepped out behind him a few seconds later, coughing from ash and floo powder.

"Up here," Draco said, heading up the stairs to the small room.

Potter looked around curiously as he stepped off the stairs, "I didn't know there was a room up here. It's tiny."

"It's all I can afford right now," Draco said, peeling off his coat and dropping it over the chair.

Potter winced, "Sorry."

"It's fine. I got a job after all," Draco said.

"You don't have a sink," Potter said, setting his coat on the end of the bed. He had a cream jumper under the plain peacoat, one of the nicest Draco had ever seen him in.

"There's a sink in the bathroom."

"What about dirty dishes?" Potter asked.

"Cleaning charms?"

"Oh, right," Potter said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Because we're wizards," Draco said.

Potter rolled his eyes.

"Who can do magic," Draco added.

Potter knocked his shoulder, "Oh, shut it." He fished out Draco's bags from his pockets, resizing them and setting them on the bare mattress, the table was far too small to hold much.

Potter found the new frying pan, while Draco set the food on the table.

"Now what?" Draco asked.

"Well... I don't need to teach you things you already know so, how much do you know?" Potter asked.

Draco shook his head, "As I said, I've never cooked."

Potter furrowed his brow.

"I had a... very sheltered upbringing," Draco said.

"Can you boil water?" Potter asked.

Draco frowned at him, "Of course I can. I've brought potions to boil."

"That's a start," Harry said. "Let's make some tea then."

Draco filled his new kettle with water and set it on the stovetop, fiddling with the stove until it turned on.

Potter put the frying pan on the burner next to Draco and flipped it on, "How do you like your eggs?"

"Sunnyside up, on toast," Draco said.

"Do you smear the yolk over the bread first?" Potter asked.

"Of course."

Potter laughed, "Somehow I knew you were going to say that." he added butter to the pan, and it melted slowly across the metal.

"And you?" Draco asked, "How do you like your eggs?"

Potter shrugged, "Every way really. I'm more interested in bacon most of the time. You don't want to let the pan get too hot, it can warp the metal and then it sucks to cook on. I don't turn the heat past half unless I'm boiling something."

Draco nodded, "That make sense, the additional liquid would help transpose the heat more evenly."

Potter grinned, "That's a potion brewer for you. Eggs?"

Draco handed him one.

"I'll crack one," Potter said, tapping the egg on the edge of the pan, "You can do the other." he poured the egg into the pan where it began to crackle and hiss softly as the whites started to set.

Potter stepped over a little so Draco could be in front of the pan. He timidly tapped the egg.

"A little harder," Potter said, leaning against his arm, "Be careful not to nick the yolk on the edge of the shell when you put it in the pan."

Draco bit his lip, almost too aware of Potter to focus. He tapped the egg harder, felt it crack against the metal and tried to get it into the pan the same way Potter had but made a mess of it somehow, with egg whites on his fingers and fragments of shell in the pan.

Draco sighed.

"You didn't break the yolk," Potter said, spelling Draco's hands clean.

"Yes, but-"

"It doesn't matter what it looks like, it's still going to taste good, right?" Potter said. He used the butter knife to pull out the fragments of shell. "I know a charm to toast the bread, but it's tricky not to accidentally burn it."

"Show me," Draco said.

Potter's toast did end up a little dark, and Draco's was far too pale for his taste, but the butter melted onto it just fine.

Potter easily picked up one egg with the spatula, sliding it on to his toast then handed it to Draco.

"Can't you just-"

Potter shook his head, "This is the hardest part. You want to slide it under the edges of the egg, once you're sure it's not sticking, then push the spatula under in one smooth movement without breaking the yolk. If you don't get it enough of it on the spatula. it'll fall off when you lift it."

"No pressure then," Draco said sarcastically.

"It's an egg. You can always make another," Potter said.

Draco took a deep breath, ignoring Potter's amusement, and began working the edges of the egg, getting a feel for it-

"You can just-"

"Shut up," Draco muttered.

Potter snorted.

Draco took another deep breath and pushed the spatula under the egg, lifting it up- as a shrill whistle pierced the air, startling him and making the egg fall, fold over itself and began to leak yolk into the pan, "Oh- oh-!"

In one fluid movement, Potter used one hand to move the kettle off the burner, the other covered Draco's hand on the spatula and picked up the egg, and then the hand that had been moving the kettle picked up the plate with Draco's toast, lifting the egg over it and letting the yolk run over the bread before setting the egg onto the toast.

"My hero," Draco said sarcastically. Adding, "Thank you."

"You'll get it next time," Potter said.

They filled the mugs with hot water and added tea bags and had tea and egg on toast right where they were standing by the stove.

"You can tell me if I'm being too pushy or assuming too much," Potter said, "...It's weird, but I feel so comfortable talking to you, like I already know you."

Draco stared at Potter, studying him for any sign of recognition or... anything, but saw nothing but Potter's earnest expression.

"Draco?" Potter said.

Draco looked away, flooded by aching loneliness. He was alone, even with Potter right here, because it wasn't the Potter who really knew him.

"Did I say something-"

"No- No, it's fine," Draco said quickly. "I can't survive on a piece of toast, so show me how to make something else."

A pound didn't buy much bacon, but Draco opened the package and passed it to Potter who put it into the frying pan where it began to hiss and spit.

"You need a cast a light barrier over the pan because the fat..." Potter fumbled for the right words, "jumps? Out of the pan? Like splatters." he gestured vaguely just as the bacon popped and they were both hit with tiny flecks of burning fat.

Draco leaned back, rubbing the stinging spot on his hand.

"Like that," Potter said ruefully, casting the barrier spell over the pan.

There was a new dark spot on the collar of Potter's shirt.

"It's stained your jumper," Draco said with a frown.

Potter looked down, "Where?"

"Here," Draco reached over finger the surprisingly soft knit, "A shame. It's a nice jumper."

"I'm sure I can find a spell to clean it," Potter said, his voice soft.

Potter reached up, putting his hand over Draco's, holding it in place. He studied Draco's face, his gaze falling to Draco's mouth. Draco froze as Potter leaned close, unable to think or move, to process what was even happening.

Potter stopped and pulled back, "I- Sorry. I must have misread things..."

Draco found his breath again. Potter's hand was warm. He could feel the frantic thrum of Potter's heart under his hand.

"I made things weird. I- I should probably go," Potter said, pulling away.

Draco desperately clutched his shirt, "Don't leave me. Don't- Don't go. You don't have to go..." his voice fell, weak and shaking.

"Are you alright? Draco?" Potter squeezed his hand.

Draco nodded. He didn't feel anything like okay.

"When I asked you to go out- I thought this was a date," Potter said.

The bacon popped loudly, and Draco flinched away from the sound.

Potter turned off the stove and pulled Draco away. He shoved the bags on the bed out of the way until they could both sit, Draco still completely unwilling to let go of Potter lest he try to leave again.

"Sorry I tried to kiss you," Potter said.

Draco shook his head. He wasn't sorry, by the gods and for all his shame, but he wasn't sorry. He just couldn't. Potter didn't know him anymore and if he remembered he would hate him, hate him a hundred times more than before.

But he couldn't let go. He knew Potter. He knew him, and Potter wanted to date him and be with him and kiss him and- and... And Draco was afraid to be alone.

"A lot has happened to me, a lot-" Draco's voice caught in his throat. "...I just need time."

Potter paused and looked around the small, empty room and nodded, "Yeah. Okay. We can go as slow as you want."

Draco nodded, his grip loosening, "I want to- to get to know you."

"Me too." Potter smiled hesitantly, "You set the pace, alright?"

"Thank you," Draco said.

They sat there for a while, and Potter filled the silence with a story about the pick-up game of quidditch he had with the Weasley's last Sunday. The story ended with Ginevra Weasley winning the game single-handedly, even with everyone else ganging up to try and beat her.

Draco laughed weakly at that.

"That's what we get for playing against a pro, I guess," Potter said ruefully.

Draco smiled.

"Shall we finish the bacon? And then... I could show you how to make scrambled eggs? You don't really have enough to make anything else." Potter said.

Draco nodded. Potter talked a bit more carefully than he had before, and they had bacon and scrambled eggs, pouring the little bottle of pink strawberry milk into their empty mugs.
When

Potter left, it was with a smile and brief squeeze of Draco's arm. Draco was too worn out by the day to do more than make his bed with dark blue sheets and the duvet he found that was printed with dandelion puffs gently being blown away.