Draco woke to the smell of bacon. He opened his eyes as a plate was set on the floor next to his mattress with a clink. The large plate had bacon, eggs and two danish on it. Potter sat down behind the plate, putting a large latte next to it.

"So, erm.... I wanted to talk about what happened last night...." Potter said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Draco sat up slowly, already feeling irritable about where this conversation was going.

"I wanted-"

"What time is it?" Draco interrupted.

"Err..." Potter frowned, "almost noon."

"Then why are you here?" Draco asked. He picked up the cup and took a tiny sip, burning the tip of his tongue.

"It's- I wanted to talk to you." Potter's brow furrowed, "You're not exactly a morning person, so I waited until my lunch break."

Draco raised an eyebrow, "Well, isn't that sweet," he said, sarcasm lacing his tone.

"Malfoy," Potter warned.

Draco set the cup back down and took the plate of carefully crafted breakfast. Potter must have gone to the bakery for the coffee and pastries, but then went to the trouble of making eggs and bacon. Draco was entirely certain this meant the worst. And he didn't have to be happy about it.

"Go on, then," Draco said flippantly, picking up a piece of bacon and breaking it in half. It was perfectly crisp, just the way he liked it.

Potter sighed, shaking his head. "I wanted to apologise."

"What?" The bacon fell out of Draco's hands and back onto the plate.

"I'm sorry. I never should have-" Potter hesitated, "and I feel like I took advantage of the situation-"

Draco had to laugh, mostly out of disbelief, "Are you serious?"

"Of course-"

"You were drunk, Potter," Draco said.

Potter shook his head emphatically, "You said no. And I shouldn't have-"

Draco picked up a piece of bacon and threw it at Potter's face. It bounced off his nose. "My god, you are an idiot of the highest order."

Potter blinked.

"Do you really think I would do something just because you asked?" Draco had to snort, "You of all people. I'd have clawed your eyes out if I-"

"...If you?" Potter repeated.

"I only do what I want to do," Draco said simply.

Many thoughts seemed to work their way through Potter's brain at the same time, warring for supremacy as his eyes flitted back and forth. He settled upon; "But I was the one who made the stipulation."

"What?"

"I said, no drinking and no fooling around," Potter said, "and then I, well, you know."

And, of course, it was the most stupid of all possible thoughts.

Draco pushed the plate off his lap and clattering onto the floor, bacon falling off, egg yolk tearing and dripping onto tumbled pastries.

"And here I thought, fooling around meant one-night-stands. When what you actually meant was that I'm a whore," Draco hissed.

"What- No- No! That's not what I-!"

"Oh fuck off, Potter," Draco snapped, quickly standing up and storming past him.

"No, I really didn't- I didn't mean that-" Potter scrambled to his feet, catching Draco by the arm and swinging him back around.

Draco stumbled, and Potter caught him, pulling him into his arms and momentarily making his brain stop working.

"I didn't mean it like that," Potter said, his voice low and far too close.

"You've got two seconds to explain yourself before I rip your horrible hair out of your horrible head," Draco said with what he hoped was venom.

"I- I made the rules." Potter said, "It's unfair- I can't pressure you to break them."

Draco breathed in, shivering at Potter's arms wrapped around him.

"Even if I was drunk. It's not fair," Potter said.

"Fair?" Draco said with a snort of amusement. "That's what you're worried about?"

"Yeah-?"

"That is such- such a fucking Saviour thing to say," Draco said.

Potter's arms loosened, "A Harry Potter thing to say-"

"No," Draco said, "I know Harry Potter. He's a fucking arsehole."

Potter blinked.

"And a cunt," Draco added for good measure. "You can play your little hero game all you like out there," he waved toward the windows. Draco stepped in closer, crowding into Potter, "But here, between us? You are nothing more than a bastard. Don't pretend. Don't play saviour to me. Because I don't believe it for a second."

Potter took a startled breath in.

Draco clenched his teeth on his seething, "When I promised I wouldn't fool around, I meant one-night-stands. If that's a problem, then don't fuck me and kick me out the next day like the tawdry slut you think I am."

"I don't- I- I just-" Potter stuttered. "I'm so-"

"Don't apologise," Draco cut him off before he could say it. "I swear to fuck, Potter, stop while you're behind before you drown in your own stupidity."

For a second, Potter gripped Draco a little tighter before he letting go all at once and taking a step back.

"Then what should I-?" Potter said, looking hopelessly confused.

"Don't apologise for the kiss because it's nothing I'm sorry for," Draco said, "And if it's something you're sorry about, you can bloody well keep it to yourself."

Potter hesitated, "Then what about... just now? Should I apologise for... apologising?"

Draco almost laughed at that. "I suppose. You'll sound rather daft, though."

"Then... I'm sorry for trying to apologise," Potter said.

"Fine," Draco said.

"Fine? That's it?" Potter said.

"Yes," Draco said. "If you want me to accept your apology, I'm very amenable to bribery."

Potter looked very pointedly at the spilt plate of breakfast.

"That was bribery for the wrong thing," Draco said. "And you ruined it."

"I ruined it? You're the one who threw his plate on the floor like a toddler," Potter said.

"Which I only did because you were an arsehole," Draco firmly, his point made.

Potter sighed hugely, "Alright, what do you want?"

Draco pretended to think about it for a second. "A cellphone."

"A cellphone," Potter repeated flatly.

"Since I was so cruelly deprived of my flat, my friends have no way to get ahold of me," Draco said.

Potter's expression twitched, but Draco couldn't tell what it might mean.

And having no qualms about manipulation when it suited him, Draco added, "it would be useful, if you wanted to know where I was."

Potter hesitated a moment more before nodding stiffly, "I've never had one before, so I don't know how long it will take to get one."

"At your leisure. I'm in no hurry," Draco drawled sarcastically.

Potter rolled his eyes. "I'm going back to work-" he took two steps towards the door and then stopped, "Oh, and you have a group meeting today. I put your calendar on the fridge; that way it will be easier to remember." Then he apparated away.

Draco slowly relaxed as the silence of the flat permeated his skin. The eggs and bacon were a broken mess, mostly fallen onto the floor, but Draco thought the danish might be saved; they were still on the plate, if a little yolky. He nudged the danish back onto the plate and retrieved the coffee Potter had gotten him, vanishing the mess on the floor and adding a cleaning charm on top.

There was a part of him, small and spiteful, that would have delighted in pouring out the latte on Potter's bed and shoving danish into his shoes. But it wouldn't have been worth the guilt afterwards or the waste of such good danish.

Draco checked the calender stuck to the fridge with a Firebolt magnet on one corner and a Gryffindor lion on the other. Potter appeared to be right about the meeting, but Draco had a couple hours before it started and a desperate need to chat about everything that had just happened.

Draco tapped his knuckles against Elle's door, trying to be loud enough to be heard but not so loud that he disturbed her if she was resting. He bounced on his toes with nervous energy, debating whether or not to knock again. He had finally raised his hand when he heard the sounds of footsteps inside.

Draco took a step back as Elle opened the door. She was wearing a pair of comfy blue pyjamas with little white sheep scattered across the fabric, her hair looking dull and mussed. She squinted at him in the doorway, her expression pinched by pain.

"Draco?" Elle said.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know-" Draco started.

"Thank god, I was so bored," Elle said. She pushed the door open and walked back into the flat, waving for Draco to follow her.

"Are you sure?" Draco asked, stepping inside.

"Anything to distract me from the feeling of my head trying to explode while I'm still in it," Elle said, collapsing back onto her bed, "just leave the lights off and keep your voice down."

Draco shut the door, dropping the flat back into a soft, hazy grey light. "Tea?"

"Yesssss," Elle groaned, half-heartedly pulling a blanket over her legs. "With lots of milk."

Draco filled the electric kettle and turned it on. "Anything else?" he asked.

Elle patted around blindly until she found a balled-up kitchen cloth and threw it in Draco's general direction, "Wet this, please."

Draco picked up the slightly damp cloth and ran it under the tap.

"Not that the water here is fucking cold," Elle muttered.

Draco started the electric kettle and found a more couple towels, running them under the tap and ringing them out before setting them in the freezer.

"Can I get-"

"No more sick talk, or I'll kick you out," Elle said grumpily, "I want to be distracted. Not reminded."

"Well then..." Draco cleared his throat, "Do you remember Potter?"

"Of course, I remember that fuckhead," Elle said.

Draco quickly unplugged the kettle before it began to make too much noise, "Yes, well, I... might have kissed him."

"Excuse me?" Elle said, pushing herself up on her elbow so she could glare at Draco, "excuse me? You did what?"

"I kissed him," Draco said conspiratorially.

"Why?" Elle asked.

"Because he asked me to," Draco said, making up a mug of tea for Elle. "...I also might have wanted to."

"Since when?!" Elle said far too loud, resulting in a wince and a groan.

"Recently," Draco said. He took the mug and a cold cloth over to Elle, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Of all people, Draco," Elle said, pushing herself to sit against the headboard.

Draco shrugged, passing Elle the mug of tea, "I know, I know. But since when have I not made bad decisions in my life?"

"Me," Elle said, pointing to herself, "Becoming friends with me was a winner."

Draco snorted, "You would know."

Elle grinned, "So, tell me everything. It must be serious if you're worried about a kiss."

Draco sighed, "It's complicated, is what it is."

"That's what you said last time. It seems like it's always complicated with this bloke," Elle raised her eyebrows.

Draco slung the half-frozen cloth around Elle's neck, making her jump and swear. Draco waved her hands away before she could take it off, "Leave it. It will help, trust me."

"You have a lot of migraines, do you?" Elle asked sarcastically.

"It helps with hangovers. I've certainly had plenty of experience with those," Draco said.

Elle sighed and tugged the ends of the cloth tighter around her neck. "It's nice. I never have the patience to put them in the freezer."

"It doesn't take long," Draco said.

"Yes, but then I have to get up and get it and come back to bed and then when it warms, I have to get up again, and it's a never ending cycle of torture," Elle said dramatically.

"Lucky for you, I'm here to do all the standing and fetching," Draco said, giving her a little seated half-bow.

"What a darling you are," Elle said with her best posh accent.

Draco grinned.

Elle took a sip of tea and cradled the mug in her lap, "So?"

"So?"

"So tell me!" Elle said, "What makes this prick worth kissing?"

"He's attractive?" Draco said.

"Egh," Elle said, making a face.

"He's attractive to me," Draco said.

"Which only goes to show you have no taste," Elle said. "And if that was all that mattered, you've slept with plenty of blokes who were attractive to you."

Draco sighed.

"Come on, there's got to be more than that," Elle said in a prodding tone.

Draco rolled his eyes, "I came here to gossip, not talk feelings."

"Feelings? Who said anything about feelings?" Elle said with a delighted smile, "Are there feelings?"

Draco grimaced.

"You have to tell me now," Elle said, "You have to-"

"Elle..."

"-or I'll simply die," Elle said.

"Telling you is just as good as telling everyone we know," Draco said.

"I can keep a secret," Elle said.

"No, you can't," Draco said back without a pause.

"Rude," Elle said. "I could. If I wanted to."

"That means never then?" Draco said.

Elle frowned, and Draco felt an internal wince as he realised he had gone too far. He still wasn't terribly good at spotting when he had, but he was learning.

"I just meant that-" Draco back-pedalled, "I've hardly had a chance to think through it myself."

"You can think through it with me," Elle said. She smiled wryly, "Just because I might tell Sam and Mary that you've been kissing your parole officer doesn't mean I'll tell them the important things. I'm a better friend than that."

Draco smiled faintly in relief, mostly that she wasn't mad at him, "You are."

"Good," Elle sat forward, "Now tell me."

"Wait, parole officer?" Draco said.

Elle waved her hand absently, "Wizard cop, childhood rival cliché, wallet thief, whatever you want to call him."

"He's certainly not my parole officer," Draco said, "The other things, yes, but not a parole officer."

Elle snorted. "So, why did you kiss him?"

"He's-"

"Don't say attractive," Elle said.

Draco rolled his eyes.

"You're so difficult sometimes," Elle said with a sigh. "Just... just tell me what you like about him. Other than looks."

"You're the one making things difficult, attractive, is enough reason," Draco said.

"Is this a bloke thing? Because it seems like a bloke thing," Elle said. "Are you too manly to talk about feelings?"

Draco frowned at her, "It's not something I've much practice doing. Ever. It wasn't really done in my family."

"Talking about feelings?" Elle asked.

"Talking about anything," Draco said.

Elle took a sip of tea, looking thoughtful. There was still a furrow between her brows as if the pain of her migraine had settled there, gathering all the pain and the tension on her face with it. Draco knew that Elle would have taken all her medication, that there was nothing more she could really do, but Draco hated not being able to do more for her.

"-Draco? Are you listening?"

"What?" Draco asked.

"You weren't listening," Elle said with a wry smile.

"I am now?" Draco said.

"Then, as I was saying," Elle said, "What does this Potter bloke do that makes you happy?"

"What does this-"

"We're figuring out your feelings," Elle interrupted, "Obviously."

Draco frowned.

"Just think about it, would you?" Elle said.

"I'll get you a new cloth," Draco said, standing up and taking the one around her neck, damp and faintly warm from her skin. He took his time walking to the fridge, swapping out one cloth for another. Elle took it from him and pressed it against her forehead for a few seconds before drawing it around her neck.

She was waiting, quiet and patient in the way that always made Draco feel a bit nervous.

"He bought me danish, nice ones from a local place," Draco said, "And after I told him I liked lattes, he always had one for me instead of coffee. He makes eggs just how I like them and bacon-"

"Is it always food?" Elle asked.

"No, it's just...." Draco trailed off, "often food. For some reason. He's always asking if I've eaten."

"It must be important to him then," Elle said.

"...Why?"

Elle shrugged, "Some people like to feed the people they care about, because they're good at it, or when they were growing up their parents showed their love with food."

And Draco had a sudden flash of a memory, of Potter at the beginning of each school year looking a bit too thin, and the clothes he wore being far too big, second-hand things held up with belts and buttons. Potter looked healthier and better fit his clothes as the years went on, but Draco remembered thinking that Potter was utterly tiny when they first met at Madam Malkin's, that there was no way he could be properly eleven like Draco was.

"...or he didn't get enough food when he was young?" Draco said quietly as the terrible idea began to settle in his mind.

"Maybe," Elle said hesitantly. "Do you think that's it?"

"...Might be," Draco said, "It's probably not... couldn't be..." Not Harry Potter. Why would Dumbledore allow it? And then he remembered what Potter had said half-asleep that one night, 'farmers don't name their pigs. You don't want to get too attached to something that's going to slaughter'. Draco shuddered.

Elle didn't notice his distress, but Draco was terribly good at hiding those sorts of things.

"So he does nice things for you. That's good. Especially considering how you started out," Elle said.

"With the wallet stealing or the cliched childhood rivalry?" Draco asked, a bit distracted.

Elle snorted with amusement, "Both. So, anything else?"

"He's apologised to me ,and he said I was right once," Draco said.

"Why do I feel like the second one is more important to you," Elle said.

Draco rolled his eyes.

"I mean, it seems like he's decent; I'll give him that," Elle said. "But there's plenty of decent blokes out there. I'm not sure he's the best bloke to be fancying with all your history."

"But that's not it," Draco said.

Elle gave him a look.

"It's because he knows the absolute worst of me," Draco said, squeezing his eyes shut just so he could say the words. "He wanted to kiss me even though he knew it was me."

"Draco."

"I know nothing is going to come of it. It's just a momentary flash of desire, and once he's had his fill, he'll never bother with me again, but-"

"Draco-"

"-he still wanted me," Draco said.

"Draco," Elle pushed her mug onto her bedside, knocking some of the bright orange pill bottles littering the surface onto the floor, and pulled Draco into a tight hug that felt almost brittle, as if Draco hugged her back, he might break.

"I like you just as you are-"

"But I-" Draco tried to argue.

"No. Right now, the Draco I know right in front of me," Elle sat back and just far enough to squeeze his thin cheeks in both her hands like an obnoxious old aunt. "I get it; having someone who understands your past is important, but what matters most is the you right now. The one who's doing the living, you fucking twat."

Draco laughed faintly.

Elle let go of his face and sat back, "You need higher standards for yourself. Because all our friends would disagree with what you just said and agree with what I said."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"They would," Elle said without an ounce of doubt.

Draco wasn't sure what to say or if he should argue or agree. He felt caught between the two without knowing which way to go.

There was a knock at the door, "Hello? Elle, are you in? Sorry to bother you-" Naja's voice called.

Draco took the opportunity to escape the intensity of their conversation by answering the door.

Naja blinked and then smiled in delight, "Draco! I didn't think I'd get to see you today!"

"Hello Naja," Draco said.

"What's up?" Elle asked.

"Sorry! If you're busy or need to rest-" Elle said.

"Draco and I were just talking," Elle said.

"I mean, it's not important. Mary is watching Aleena and Darain for a little while; not that I don't love them to bits, but I needed some time with adults."

"It's fine," Elle said with a smile, "Come in. Draco was just telling me about him kissing that Potter bloke."

Draco gave Elle a look.

"You have to tell me about the actual kiss," Elle said, "I want to know what happened."

"You mean that young man who came by the building before? Who took your wallet and then tried to give you money?" Naja asked, stepping inside.

"That's him," Draco said, closing the door.

Naja frowned, "He was.... Sorry, I didn't like him very much."

"Same! He's so-"

"Oh, shut up," Draco said. "I told you, I know it was a bad decision. And he's not that bad, once you get past the hero-complex."

"But you kissed? Oh, I want to hear more about this," Naja said.

"Right?" Elle said. She patted the edge of her bed, and Naja took a seat.

Draco joined them. "Alright but I only have an hour-"