Draco took a deep breath, his cheek pressing into a soft pillow smelling like evergreen and soap. He was surrounded by warmth and pulled his arms tight to his chest, burying his head deeper into the pillow. He had nearly fallen back to sleep when he remembered he didn't bring a pillow and only had the fitted sheet, no blankets.

Draco opened his eyes and forced them to focus on his surroundings. He was still in Potter's flat, still on the floor, but now he had a pillow, half falling off the mattress, and he was covered in a soft fleecy sky-blue blanket. As he slowly pushed himself up, he saw two more blankets left near his feet, one knitted, another a heavier quilt.

"Are you awake?" Potter called from the other side of the wall.

Draco didn't respond. Even if he had been sleeping, that would have woken him up, so it seemed like a particularly stupid question.

Potter looked around the corner, "So you are up. You could have said something."

Draco grimaced at him. The headache he had had last night had followed him into the morning and was softly thrumming behind his temples.

"Get up," Potter said.

"No," Draco said.

"You should eat something," Potter said, disappearing back into the kitchen.

Draco flopped back down onto his bed, pressing his face into the pillow. It occurred to him that the smell caught in the fabric must belong to Potter.

"You look like shit," Potter said, his voice far too close and without any footsteps of warning.

Draco twitched, trying to hide how badly he had been startled with a sharp retort, "Thanks ever so much."

"Need anything?" Potter asked.

Draco pulled the blanket up over his head, his words muffled by the fabric, "To be left alone. And stop stealing my lines."

Potter sighed, "I meant like a potion or something."

"You don't have any potions," Draco said.

"I bought some yesterday," Potter said.

Draco frowned to himself but gave in and muttered, "Pain potion," through the blanket.

Potter opened the bathroom door, the soft clink of glass on glass heralding the vial of potion Potter tapped against Draco's forehead.

Draco sulkily pushed the blanket back down and took the vial of pale violet liquid, turning it to read the label before pulling out the rubber stopper.

"I can read a label," Potter said irritably.

"Sure you can, Potter," Draco said, taking a tentative swallow or the watery, fennel tasting stuff with a grimace.

"You're supposed to take the whole thing," Potter said.

Draco pressed the stopper back in, shivering as the potion worked its way through him, first with a chill, then briefly making him feel entirely numb before it began to fade and leave him as he was, but without the headache or the stiffness in his back that he hadn't noticed.

"I don't need more than that," Draco said.

"They're literally the weakest potions you can get," Potter said.

"I hadn't had any for years. Until last week, anyway. I'm still sensitive to them," Draco said.

Potter frowned, "So you're on child doses? How did they manage at St Mungo's?"

"Gradual dosing," Draco said. "My mouth perpetually tasted like something had crawled inside it to die."

"Ugh," Potter said.

"It was wretched," Draco said.

"You're not going to get up, are you?" Potter asked.

"Why should I?" Draco said and shifted the conversation, "What's with the blankets?"

"You being all curled up in the middle of a mattress made me feel like I'd brought in a stray dog," Potter said.

"Rude," Draco said.

"It was weird," Potter said. He leaned over and took back the half-empty vial of potion, returning it to the bathroom, and then went back into the main part of the flat.

Draco let his eyes close, his mind fuzzy in a dozy half-sleep. He could hear Potter banging around the kitchen, cabinets opening and closing, the sound of ceramic and silverware. It was loud enough to keep Draco from properly falling back to sleep but strangely comforting at the same time. It wasn't the sort of sound he ever heard in the manor, but it reminded him a little of being in the dorms at Hogwarts. It was just nice to know other people were there. Even if they were being fucking annoying.

Draco's whole body twitched as Potter set a box down next to Draco's mattress, "Fuck!"

Potter raised an eyebrow before going back to the kitchen, returning with a bottle of milk and a little sugar bowl. Potter walked so silently it was uncanny.

"You're too quiet," Draco complained.

The corner of Potter's mouth turned up in a brief smile, "Oh yeah?"

"You should wear a bell."

Potter's mouth twitched, trying not to smile again, "Like a cat?"

"Exactly," Draco said.

Two mugs were sitting on top of the box, filled with a dark, steaming liquid.

Potter sat down on the floor and moved the mugs to the side, flipping open the little box. Inside was an array of danish, with raspberry and strawberry and apple fillings, striped with cream cheese and shiny with a sweet glaze.

Draco's eyes widened, and he sat up.

"It's from the bakery down the street," Potter said.

Draco hesitated.

"What?" Potter asked.

Potter picked up one of the mugs, adding a touch of sugar and milk to it before taking a sip.

Draco hadn't moved.

"You wanted danish and coffee," Potter said, "so I got them."

"...right," Draco said faintly and picked out one of the raspberry danish and took a bite. It was so good, and for some reason, it made him want to cry.

"I called in sick," Potter said, "Since I know you're going to give me shit about not going to work. We don't have any big cases going on right now, so it's fine. They'll owl me if something comes up."

"Mmhm," Draco said.

Potter narrowed his eyes, "Why aren't you saying anything?"

"No reason," Draco said, shrugging a shoulder.

"Because normally you can't shut up," Potter said.

"I'm eating."

Potter set down his mug, "How do you take your coffee?"

Draco's brow furrowed.

Potter pointed at the other untouched mug, "Your coffee?"

"Milk and sugar," Draco said.

Potter lifted a spoonful of sugar and added it to the mug.

"More."

Potter added another spoonful.

"More."

Potter gave him a look and added another, "That enough, princess?"

"Probably not," Draco said.

Potter added another spoonful of sugar, stirred it in and topped it off milk, "More?"

Draco nodded.

Potter cracked a faint smile, "This is less coffee with milk and sugar and more milk and sugar with a little bit of coffee flavouring."

Draco licked the glaze from his fingers and carefully picked up the very full mug, guiding it to his lips and sipping the liquid from the top. The milk had cooled it to lukewarm, and it still tasted too much like coffee for his taste, but it was tolerable.

Potter was staring at him but Draco couldn't make out his expression. He quickly looked down and the mug in his hands when he realised Draco was watching him.

"They have this thing called lattes. It's the best thing muggles have ever made," Draco said.

Potter raised his eyebrows, "Better than indoor plumbing?"

Draco took another sip as he thought. "I think...I would rather shit in a bucket than give up lattes."

Potter was mid-drink and nearly choked on his coffee.

Draco picked out another danish while Potter coughed.

"What about my kiss?" Draco asked.

"What?" Potter asked hoarsely.

"I asked for danish, coffee, and a kiss," Draco said with a smirk.

Potter shook his head, "I didn't agree to that one."

"You didn't say you were going to get me danish and coffee, either," Draco said.

Potter shook his head again.

"Tease," Draco said.

Potter coughed faintly and cleared his throat as he lifted his mug, forgetting to drink once it reached his mouth.

Draco watched Potter slowly set the mug back down to the floor, looking distracted and lost in thought.

Draco licked glaze from his thumb and absently rubbed his cheek, "...I need to shave."

Potter looked up, eyes focusing and then squinting theatrically.

"Oh shut up, it's just very blond," Draco said.

"Uh-huh," Potter said sceptically.

"Right here," Draco said, brushing his fingers around his upper lip and chin. He didn't really grow much facial hair beyond that.

"I had more of a beard than that at thirteen," Potter said.

"How is that surprising?" Draco said, "You'd probably have a full beard in three days."

"Probably," Potter said, "I hate how it itches, so I've never tried."

"You have a razor?" Draco asked.

"What? No." Potter made a face, "I use a charm."

Draco frowned.

"Ron taught it to me- I- It's faster," Potter said.

"I hate shaving charms; they're too rough," Draco said.

"No? They're not?"

"It irritates my skin," Draco insisted.

"Sure it does, princess," Potter said.

"Fuck off," Draco muttered.

"Then how'd you manage at school?" Potter asked. "I can't imagine you using a muggle razor."

"I had my grandfather's straight razor," Draco said.

Potter's eyebrows rose, "That's a terrifying thought."

"It's enchanted to only cut hair," Draco said.

"Why don't you use that then?" Potter asked.

Draco sighed, "Because it's in a chest, in my family vault, which I cannot access because some fucking idiot stole my wallet."

"Ah."

"So you don't have a razor, much less shaving cream," Draco said.

"No," Potter said.

"Then you shall have to buy them for me," Draco said.

"What? No. No, I won't," Potter said.

"You promised to give me whatever-"

"I'm not your personal servant-"

" 'Whatever I want' includes whatever I want." Draco shot back.

The muscle in Potter's cheek jumped as he clenched his jaw.

Draco looked at him pointedly, wondering if this was as far as it went. He knew Potter wouldn't last, that he would break the bargain first. Of course, Potter was also stupid enough to offer everything while only demanding two things from Draco. Not that they were easy things, but Draco was fairly certain he could hold out until Potter broke.

Potter breathed out, "Fine," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few notes, folded in half and crumpled badly from being in his jeans, "Here's twenty quid-"

"You took the day off, didn't you?" Draco interrupted.

Potter's mouth thinned, "...yes."

"I don't know any of the neighbourhood shops around here, so you'll have to show me," Draco said.

"So you're blind now?" Potter said, starting to sound irritated.

"Oh, come on, Potter," Draco said.

"I'm not going to be ordered around by you, this isn't third year where you can make me do your potions-"

"I'm not ordering you around, Potter!" Draco said, raising his voice, "I just-" he stopped.

"What? What?" Potter snapped.

"...I would like the company, is all," Draco said, flushing faintly and raising his chin defiantly in spite of it. "Shopping is more fun with someone else."

Potter blinked, "Shopping is never fun."

"Then you're doing it wrong," Draco said.

"How does someone do shopping wrong?" Potter said.

"I don't know, but you've obviously managed it," Draco said.

Potter made a face at him.

"You haven't eaten any danish," Draco said.

"What?" Potter frowned, "You're doing it again."

"What?" Draco asked.

"First you're talking about one thing, then suddenly you're on about something else. I can't fucking keep up," Potter said.

Draco rolled his eyes, "I only said that you hadn't eaten any of the danish."

"We were talking about shopping," Potter said.

Draco ignored him, "There were six danish, two of each flavour, so that means three for each of us-"

"I don't- I don't care, Malfoy. I only bought them because you asked for them," Potter said.

"Well... that's stupid. They're fresh-made bakery danish," Draco said. He picked up his third danish as he stood up, "I'm going to use the shower."

"A shower. Now you're talking about showers," Potter glared up at him.

"You are so annoying, Potter," Draco said, going into the bathroom and closing the door behind far too heavily, wincing at the noise even as he rather wished he had slammed it harder.

Draco put the last bite of his danish in his mouth before stepping under the shower's spray. He dipped his head under the warm water, letting it soak through his hair and run down his face. He took a moment to examine the bottles in the shower caddy more closely, popping open the three in one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, smelling a now more familiar scent of pines and evergreen. Draco used the other separate shampoo and conditioner, already half empty, and wondered who they belonged to. What person had stayed in Potter's flat long enough to need their own toiletries?

Draco had set his wand in the shower caddy while he washed, and as he turned off the water, he cast a weak and warm drying spell over himself, shivering a little as the warm air engulfed him and evaporated the droplets of water from his skin.

He released the spell and used his fingers to comb through his damp hair because, unsurprisingly, Potter didn't have a comb of any kind. The face reflected back at him in the mirror looked pale and exhausted, with dark smudgy shadows under his eyes. Draco grabbed the hand towel beside the sink and tucked the corner of it behind the mirror, hiding most of the reflection. He went to grab Potter's toothbrush like he did whenever he stayed over somewhere strange and froze, remembering it was Potter's mouth it had been in, and that was just one step too far for him.

Draco cast a cleaning spell over his clothes, the t-shirt and jogger's Potter had given him, before putting them back on. He hadn't liked the clothes he copied from the thrift store to help Samuel with his work, so he vanished them once the job was done. He was starting to regret that now.

When he stepped back out into the flat, he saw that Potter had cleaned up the coffee and pastries and returned them to the kitchen.

Potter was rinsing out a mug when Draco looked in, "Did you eat them?"

"I hadn't had breakfast anyway," Potter said, not looking over his shoulder.

Draco sighed.

Potter set the cup on a counter, "That's what you wanted, wasn't it?"

"I just wanted to know if you were going to eat them. If you weren't, I'd have finished the rest," Draco said.

Potter turned off the water and stood very still.

"Because I'm not a thief, despite what you think about me," Draco said.

Potter muttered something under his breath, bracing his hands on the countertop. "...If you wanted to have more, then you just should have said so," Potter said tightly.

"I did," Draco said with a frown, "When I pointed out that you hadn't eaten any that was-"

"Not asking, Malfoy. I'm not that stupid," Potter said, turning around to glare at Draco.

"I was insinuating the question," Draco said.

"Insinuating?"

"You're the host," Draco said, "It would have been rude to take more than was offered."

"It's not rude to ask for more food," Potter said.

"It is. But then again, a good host would have offered me more once I had my share," Draco said.

"The fuck-" Potter threw up his hands, "Do I look like a 'good host' to you?"

"No. Obviously," Draco said, "but I thought it only fair to give you the benefit of the doubt."

Potter shook his head, muttering what sounded like more cursing under his breath. "Fine." he said, exasperated, "Now that we've got that out of the way, you can just treat me like a- a bad host or, I don't know, shitty roommate, that'd be more accurate."

"I'm glad we've cleared that up," Draco said.

"You know, it's weird, I thought that we'd have both grown up and matured, and I wouldn't want to throttle you every time you opened your mouth, but I was wrong," Potter said.

"You didn't think that," Malfoy said, "You're not that delusional."

"Optimistic. I was being optimistic," Potter said stiffly.

"Perhaps you are that delusional," Draco said.

Potter slowly clenched his hands into fists of pure frustration, an aborted snarl caught between his teeth.

Draco took a few steps back, aware that he had pushed this a bit too far, "So... I'm fine taking that twenty quid to go buy a razor by myself. I need to get a toothbrush and a few other things..."

Potter fished the folded notes out of his pocket and threw them all in Draco's direction, where they flitted to the ground halfway between them, "Good. Excellent. You should go out for a while, just go away for a while."

Draco edged close enough to picked the money up, "I can do that."

"The closest shop around here is-"

"It's fine," Draco interrupted, "I'll go back to my neighbourhood; I know what's around there."

Potter's frown was the last thing he saw before he apparated back to his apartment building.

Draco went straight from the back of the building, up the stairs, to Elle's flat. His mind was only on one thing, or several things, or several bottles waiting for him. His hand shook as he raised it to knock.

Draco squeezed his eyes shut.

It was too much. It was so much. And he just wanted it to stop, just stop for a little while.

He tried to tell himself it was just Potter, just stupid fucking Potter. The last thing he was supposed to care about was what scar-head said. There was just something- something about the way Potter stood, the- his fists- Draco's breathing stuttered in his chest- the way he threw the money, like a voice in his head saying, foolish boy.

Draco shuddered, his knuckles brushing against the wood.

The door swung open and Draco jumped back with a startled laugh.

"Fucking hell, Draco!" Elle chided and laughed, "You scared the shit out of me!"

Draco wobbled backwards until his back pressed against the railing.

"Looking for something?" Elle teased. "Like a pillow?"

"Right," Draco nodded, "My pillow."

"It got pushed under my dresser," Elle frowned and stepped close. "Draco?" She touched his shoulder lightly.

Draco jumped, his whole body feeling like a live wire, he tried to laugh again, but it came out forced.

"Sorry," Elle said, pulling her hand back.

"It's fine," Draco said. "It's fine."

"I can tell that it's not," Elle said, "Can I help?"

"I ...I don't know," Draco managed.

"Let's walk," Elle said.

"What?" Draco said, confused.

"It helps. It feels like running away," Elle smiled ruefully, "A little bit. But a little bit is enough."

Elle grabbed a rolling cart from inside her apartment and quickly shut and locked the door. When she headed down the stairs, Draco followed her.

"Is it- Are you okay to be out?" Draco asked.

"I feel good today," Elle said, "So I wanted to do some shopping. Grocery deliveries are all well and good, but they can't pick out the perfect colour of toothbrush or the fluffiest bath towel."

Draco nodded silently.

"The thing is, my health gets worse every year," Elle said, her tone deliberately light. "There's this saying, 'live like you're dying' well, I live like I'm deteriorating. Someday, I won't be able to go out like this. Someday, I may not be able to live on my own, but until that day comes, I want to do anything and everything that I can, while I can still do it."

"That's..." Draco trailed off.

"Don't say 'brave'," Elle laughed, "It's just realistic. And I've cried plenty over it. Anyone would. It's a shitty thing, what my body is doing to me."

"I wasn't going to say brave," Draco said.

"Really?"

"I wasn't sure what I was going to say," Draco said.

Elle laughed. She slowed down so they could walk side by side.

"So?" Elle said.

"So?"

"So, you look a bit worse for wear," Elle said. "Did you have a rough night?"

Draco smiled faintly to himself, "I wish. I'm a bit... sober at the moment."

Elle hesitated, "That's... is that good?"

Draco laughed.

"You've never tried to sober up before," Elle said.

"It's for a lark mostly," Draco said.

"That's not something you do on a lark," Elle said, "Does it have anything to do with that bloke who stole your rent hanging around?"

Draco scowled.

"Uhuh," Elle said.

"We made a deal," Draco said, "He wants to make up for all the shit he's done."

"And that includes being sober?" Elle said, "Because from what I know of you, that seems more like a punishment than help."

"Potter thinks he can save me," Draco said. "I'm not supposed to fuck around either. Literally."

Elle wrinkled her nose, "What do you get out of this?"

"A place to stay."

"I was happy to give you that," Elle said.

"I-"

"You weren't any trouble. And I mean that," Elle said.

"Well... I felt bad about it," Draco said.

Elle gave him a look.

"What?" Draco said defensively.

"You're always helping us, but it's like pulling teeth trying to do even the smallest favour back," Elle said.

They stopped at the corner, waiting for the lights to change. The traffic was growing steadily heavier as they got closer to the shopping centre.

"So, what are you getting out of this? Because it seems like it's just... more trouble for you," Elle said.

"It's- Well... when you put it like that-"

Elle snorted.

"It's complicated," Draco said.

"Ooo, do tell," Elle said.

Draco laughed.

They crossed the street, and Elle headed towards a small discount shop Draco had never been in before.

"We went to school together. Same year, different houses," Draco said.

"You were the rich brat, and he was scholarship student-" Elle said, with an airy voice.

"What?"

"It sounds like the start of a million kids books. Very cliché," Elle said.

"Potter might dress like he fell out of a wheely bin, but from what I've heard, his parents left him quite an inheritance," Draco said.

"He's an orphan?"

"Yeah?"

"A tragic orphan?" Elle asked conspiratorially.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Yes."

"I'm afraid that makes up for the secretly wealthy bit," Elle said, "Still cliché."

Draco frowned.

"So? Tell me more."

Draco remained silent.

"Come on," Elle cajoled.

"You're going to laugh," Draco said.

Elle grinned, "That only makes it better."

Draco sighed, "...We were rivals."

"Of course you were!" Elle laughed.

"You're lucky I needed to go shopping, as well," Draco said, grabbing one of the plastic baskets next to the door.

"What else, what else?" Elle asked.

"You're the worst," Draco muttered.

"Were you footy rivals too?" Elle asked.

Draco didn't respond.

"You were, weren't you!?"

"Elle-"

Elle cackled with delight, completely indifferent to all the people staring at them. Draco spotted an aisle with toothpaste and headed down it. He frowned at the toothbrushes and picked out a two-pack, decorated with bright neon colours and a suction cup on the bottom to stick to the sink.

"I like those too," Elle said, joining him, "They're for kids, but the bristles are softer, and it's smaller. I hate how big normal toothbrushes are. I have a very small mouth."

"Seems like a very big mouth to me," Draco said, putting the toothbrushes into his basket and moving down to the toothpaste.

"Ouch," Elle said lightly, "I hit a nerve, huh?"

"I've lived my whole life without the knowledge that my childhood was some sort of cliched nonsense, and then you come along-"

"Sorry! Sorry!" Elle said. "I was just teasing!"

Draco frowned at the stupid amount of different kinds of toothpaste and picked a random box with a lot of sparkles on it.

"You don't talk about yourself much," Elle said, "Except the cult thing, which is pretty... amazing on its own but, I mean, it's nice to talk about other stuff."

"You're fine," Draco said, "I'm...I'm just not used to teasing."

"Your friends never teased you before?" Elle asked.

"They did, sometimes," Draco frowned to himself, "Not often. My father commanded a lot of respect."

"Your father did? Not you," Elle said.

"It was the cult thing," Draco said, "Most of my friends were the kids of other people in the cult or scared of who my father was or... yeah."

Elle put an arm around Draco's back and gave him a squeeze.

"What's that for?" Draco asked.

"No reason," Elle said, "What else do you need to buy?"

Draco gave her a suspicious look. "A razor and shaving cream. Something to wear that isn't... this," he gestured down at himself.

"I wasn't going to say anything...." Elle said.

"I know," Draco said.

"Teasing again," Elle said.

Draco rolled his eyes, "What else do you need?"

"A new towel and a bra, some other clothes, maybe some socks if they have some that are really soft and fuzzy," Elle said.

Draco nodded, "Then perhaps you can explain how bra sizing works."

Elle snorted, "You think I know?"

"You wear them, don't you?" Draco said.

"Yeah, but I figured out my size by trial and error. And half the time, it's different depending on the brand and material it's made of," Elle said.

"That's ridiculous," Draco said.

"Yup. I usually just wear sports bras, but I like to have a few nice ones. They're my going out bras," Elle said.

Draco grinned.

"I'm glad I ran into you," Elle said, "Shopping is always more fun with someone else."

Draco nodded, "Yeah, it is."

Draco returned late in the afternoon, after spending most of the day Elle. They shopped for several hours and then dawdled in a fast food place for a while before making their way back to the building.

"You can come back and stay with me," Elle said as they walked back up the street.

"I know," Draco said, pulling Elle's rolling basket behind them, both their bags piled into it.

"Are you even friends with- with Potter now?" Elle asked.

"No. Definitely not," Draco said.

"You never said what you were getting out of staying with him," Elle said.

"Danish," Draco said.

Elle looked up at him in confusion.

"He bought me danish and made me some sub-par coffee," Draco said.

"That's it?" Elle said.

"No..." Draco said.

"Draco-"

"I'm thinking."

"Draco, you can just move back in with me. I haven't even moved my furniture back yet," Elle said.

Draco grimaced, "...I can't."

"Why?"

"We made a deal... I quit drinking and sleeping around, and he gives me everything I want," Draco said.

"Like danish."

"And terrible coffee," Draco said with a nod.

Elle raised her eyebrows.

"He gave me the money to go shopping as well." Draco said, "And it's only been a day."

Elle puffed out her cheeks and blew out a raspberry.

Draco laughed in surprise.

"I just have a bad feeling about it. You don't have a great history with the guy," Elle said.

You have no idea, Draco thought and very much didn't say.

"And I don't just mean when you were in school," Elle went on, "He took your rent money so that you lost your flat. Because he thought you stole it. And now he's trying to fix you? It just feels... icky."

"It's not like that," Draco said.

Elle made a face.

"And I can leave at any time," Draco said, "Besides, he's going to break first."

"Draco..."

"He promised me 'whatever I want!' That's ridiculous! Being sober is... fucking atrocious, to be honest, but it's the only difficult part of my side of the deal," Draco said.

"You're not in school anymore, Draco," Elle said sharply, "You don't have to compete with him. You don't have to win."

"Elle-"

"You should put you first," Elle said. She frowned and repeated stubbornly, "I really think you should put you first."

Their pace slowed as they stepped through the archway leading into the courtyard.

Draco frowned to himself.

Elle let out a huge sigh and waved her hands emphatically, "You don't have to do anything I say. It's your life. Don't let other people control your life."

Draco blinked.

"That said, I care about you, and I'm worried, and I want you to be safe," Elle looked up at him, "Does that make sense?"

Draco nodded, "It does."

"Okay," Elle said. "Good. Today was great. I'm glad we got to hang out."

"I am as well," Draco said.

Elle smiled faintly, "You should have this Potter bloke buy you a cell phone, so we can go out again the next time my traitorous body lets me."

"It couldn't hurt to ask," Draco said.

Elle grinned, "Now, if you don't mind, would you help me carry my bags upstairs?"

"Of course," Draco said.