Queer & There

Chapter Seven
Interrogations And Opportunities

Draco was half surprised to see Harry up and awake the next morning at half past nine, because he was still trying to contemplate for exactly what reason he himself was out of bed. Upon seeing Harry frying bacon in the kitchen, Draco realised that this was probably what had disturbed him and gave a little sulky sound that may have been his own interpretation of "Good morning", but even he couldn't be sure.

"Do you want any bacon?" Harry said by means of greeting, giving a little smile in Draco's direction when the other man shook his head emphatically. "I suppose you're not a morning person, then?"

Draco grimaced as he sat down at the kitchen table and started to fiddle with a ballpoint pen that had somehow found its way there. "I think not. Mornings are for the idiots who actually have nothing better to do than go to work. Those people could be sleeping." Grumbling silently to himself, he then went about dismantling the pen he was holding with little enthusiasm.

Harry's eyes floated towards the pen for a brief moment before going back to keep an eye on his bacon, and the kitchen was quiet except for the light sizzle coming from the frying pan.

Finally, Draco looked up from his pen and stared at Harry. "So where did you piss off to, then?"

"Just- nowhere, really," Harry replied, but his voice hinted that he definitely must have gone somewhere and just really didn't feel much like talking about it. He then got two slices of bread from a packet and popped some bacon in between them. Putting it on a plate, he sat down at the kitchen table opposite Draco, who turned up his nose at the smell of the sandwich and looked like he might throw up for a minute. "It's a bacon sandwich, Draco, it's not the end of the fucking world."

Draco rather pointedly glared at the sandwich to further make his point that it could indeed be the end of the world if given the chance, but then remembered that he was in the middle of trying to get some answers out of Harry. "Don't change the subject," he said in his best attempt at a strict voice, which wasn't really very convincing being that it was first thing in the morning for him. "I want to know where you went after Accio."

When Harry started nibbling awkwardly at the sides of his sandwich, Draco was certain that he wasn't going to be easy to talk to this morning, particularly about this. "Why does it matter?" was all Harry said after a pause, to which Draco rolled his eyes.

"Because I'm curious," Draco replied. "You couldn't have just gone nowhere, you were missing in action for two days and people were very, very worried about you for some reason that I still can't get my head around."

Harry raised an eyebrow as he bit into his sandwich finally. "People?"

This elicited another impatient sigh from Draco, who was feeling even less co-operative than normal. He really didn't deal very well with mornings, and if he had to have a conversation this early on, he liked it to be one with simple questions and straight answers. Harry was currently providing neither. "Yes, Potter, people. Hermione in particular. You heard her wittering on last night about you." He attempted a whiny voice as he mimicked her, "Waa, Harry might be dead. Waa, what if he's been mugged by a dangerous pack of elves? Waa, what if stumbled into a magical portal that took him to Fun-bloody-Land and he was entertained to death?"

The other man ate in a silence for a minute, and then: "Were you worried?" He looked over hopefully, and Draco recognised a lot of the younger Harry in the expression, a look that he had seen him give Ron or Hermione or one of his other closer friends. It felt quite strange to be on the receiving end of the look.

"Not particularly," Draco replied, although this was not strictly true. He had been a bit concerned, he supposed, if only because the two had ended on bad terms and Draco didn't like to be in people's bad books; he much preferred them to feel absolutely awful instead and get themselves into a big fuss and apologise until they were blue in the face. It wasn't often Draco felt he was partially to blame for an argument. As Harry pouted now, he sighed and corrected himself. "Alright, well maybe a little bit. You did say you were going home, after all."

Harry shrugged. "I made a bit of a detour-"

"To... where, exactly?" Draco asked, and as Harry looked thoroughly embarrassed and took the opportunity to look at the floor whilst filling his mouth with the last of his bacon sandwich, Draco realised where he must have gone. Giving a little smirk that broadened each second he stared at Harry, Draco raised an eyebrow. "You went to Dom's, didn't you?"

"Maybe."

"You twat, what did you do that for? And why bother coming back here if you were shacked up merrily with your bastardly estate agent and his many, many twat-like qualities?"

There was a pause; Harry finally brought his eyes back up to meet Draco's, who was in the middle of his best disapproving and mocking expression, which was not easy to master and therefore was taking up the best part of his energy. "I came here, because I knew you would tell me what an idiot I was."

Draco paused, dropped his facial expression, and raised an eyebrow instead. "Because you love hearing my imaginative insults?" he guessed, finding himself a bit lost suddenly. "I deliver them so fantastically that you just had to hear one?"

Harry sighed. "No, because I needed to hear it. Because it's true. I am an idiot."

"Well, yes, Potter. You are, but that's no reason to go asking people to ram it down your throat. It's also no reason to go messing up my brand new and unused bed sheets." He paused, and added for emphasis, "I'm not following."

As Draco picked up his pen victim again and starting examining it for a moment, Harry took the opportunity to glance away, clearly a little embarrassed. "You always tell me the truth," he explained slowly. "You don't sit around like Hermione and say that it's up to me while giving me blatant looks of disapproval. You don't avoid the subject like Ron does, and you don't have any problem with being honest and insulting rather than lying to be a bit nice."

Draco's lips flickered into another smirk at this, which was unreadable until he spoke after a pause. "So you wanted me to tell you the truth? Ooh, I like this game." He couldn't help but grin at Harry then, who returned it with a small smile of his own.

"Yeah. I want you to tell me the truth," Harry replied, his tone only slightly uncertain.

Draco grinned again. "The truth is- the truth is, Potter, that Dom Willick is a complete fucking twat who has no redeeming qualities, unless you count good real estate options, which I don't. He's not good looking, he's getting on a bit and you could do a lot fucking better. You were a stupid idiot to go back and spend two days shagging him, and if you do it again I'm going to have to hurt you."

After taking a moment to allow all this to settle, Harry smiled. "Thanks, Draco."

"Not a problem."

* * *

By three o'clock, Draco still hadn't asked Harry why exactly he was still around, and why exactly he still hadn't called Hermione or Ron to tell them where he was. He had absolutely no idea why Harry had asked Draco to lie about his whereabouts last night, and he couldn't be sure why he had complied, either.

They had spent the morning doing not very much; it had been mostly a combination of watching the fireplace, talking about what an idiot Dom was, and Draco complaining about his lack of response from Weaver's. He was becoming incredibly anxious about it without even really meaning to, as being unemployed was quite boring.

Harry, on the other hand, had never given any indication about his job, although he definitely had one because Draco had heard him call in sick after breakfast and made a mental note of asking him about it later. Being that now was definitely 'later', and as good a time as any, Draco approached the subject.

They were in the living room; Draco with another plate of chips in his lap and Harry checking Quidditch scores, both sitting side by side without much conversation actually going on until Draco spoke up.

"Potter - what do you do?"

Harry looked up from the small, flashing scoreboard that had appeared in the middle of the fireplace. "What do you mean, what do I do?"

Draco sighed a bit, having fully expected this answer and wishing life could be far more simple. "For a living. What do you do? So far, my only guesses are - gay rights leader, drag queen, pretty little waiter of sorts. I'm starting to think I could be wrong, though."

"What gave me away?" Harry smirked as he glanced sideways at Draco again, and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Smirking in return, Draco explained, "If you were a gay rights leader, you'd probably do really weird hours - definitely not a nine to five call-in-sick sort of job. I don't even want to imagine you as a drag queen, so that one got immediately chucked out of the window, and as for a waiter, you don't have the co-ordination."

"I was on the Quidditch team," Harry protested with a little frown, motioning to the scoreboards as though it would back him up. It didn't, and just announced that the Canons were losing one hundred points to ten, at which Harry scowled before turning his attention back to Draco. "I am most definitely co-ordinated enough to be a waiter, thank you very much."

Draco smirked. "But you're not?"

Harry replied with a shake of his head. "I work for the Ministry, on their Defence Against The Dark Arts team. I'd have thought that would be obvious- it's not exactly an original job for me. I was on their list from birth, practically."

"No need to brag, Potter," Draco retorted, although the smirk still accenting his features indicated that he was only teasing the other boy. "We can't all be super babies."

Shaking his head again a little bit for what reason Draco didn't actually know, Harry frowned again. "I wasn't a super baby," he objected. "You know I wasn't; I was just lucky. Everyone just decided to take that as a reason to make me some weird public hero, and the Ministry only gave me a job because of it. It's not even a good job, I don't like it that much."

Taking this in, Draco glanced thoughtfully at Harry before looking at the Quidditch scores until they went away. Harry looked at him at this as though offended, but soon just fell quiet. "If you don't like your job, you should quit," Draco reasoned after a moment's consideration. Harry turned up his nose a bit and shrugged again.

"I can't just not have a job."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I don't have a job."

"Yeah, but you applied for that nightclub thing," Harry retorted without much enthusiasm, giving a little sigh as he bit his lip thoughtfully. "You're going to be a barman and pull every night and stuff. I can't afford to quit my job and do that, I wouldn't be able to afford my rent or anything-"

"What happened to your inheritance?" Draco queried, although the tone in his voice hinted that the question was more inquisitive than concerned. "I thought you were loaded still."

Harry paused, and then shrugged. "I still have it- I'm just..."

Interrupting, Draco shot him a Look. "If you tell me you're saving it for something special, I might have to actually throw you off the balcony, Potter. All that money is just sitting around doing fuck all?"

"Not fuck all-" Harry frowned at Draco's cynicism and paused as though trying to work out just how to justify himself. "It's for something important, I don't want to just squander it on alcohol and holidays and things I'm never going to use again."

Just as Draco was about to reply, an owl he didn't know shot through the window and landed in front of Draco. Recognising it as a business owl who was clearly and impatiently waiting for his money, he slipped two knuts in front of it, which it squawked at and picked up before flying away in a way that Draco thought was decidedly and pointedly rude.

Picking up the small golden envelope with his name written on in elegant script, Draco examined it carefully while Harry examined Draco's expression curiously until the blond man opened it and read through the letter enclosed.

After a moment, Draco sighed and set the letter down with a slight slam. "Fucking brilliant. I'm unemployable even to a fucking nightclub. Fucking perfect." Looking at Harry, who seemed suddenly wary and sympathetic at the same time, he added, "Oh, don't look at me like that."

"I'm not looking at you like anything."

"Yes, you are," Draco insisted without much fervour, as he was still suitably unhappy and not in the mood for playing games of any kind. "You're giving me the sympathetic, 'don't worry about it, it's not the end of the world' look. I'm not interested in that bloody look at the moment. I was interested in that job."

Harry frowned a bit. "You're too clever to be a barman, it wasn't really very you."

"If I wanted your opinion-"

"-you would have asked for it," Harry finished for him with a slight sigh as he bit his lower lip again.

"Right you are. So shut up."

* * *

"Can I ask you a question?"

"No," Draco replied immediately.

It was now six o'clock, and Draco had been quietly sulking for the past two or three hours while Harry had been doing something that Draco didn't really know or care about. He was more interested in the fact that he was out of the way, leaving Draco to his devices and not talking to him. However, Harry had emerged finally and was now once again sitting beside Draco on the sofa.

Apparently not bothered by Draco's answer, Harry continued. "Is something going on between you and Hermione?"

Draco's eyes shot to Harry. "Please don't say that again," he demanded sharply before glaring off again. Anticipating Harry's next question, which he was sure would be just the same one again but worded differently, Draco added, "No. Nothing."

"She kissed you yesterday," Harry pointed out.

Draco rolled his eyes and looked at him again. "On the cheek," he corrected. "She kissed me on the fucking cheek, and in case you had forgotten, she's going out with Weasley. That doesn't really leave much room for me or anybody else, does it?"

Harry nodded at this, and fell silent for a moment before, "Do you want something to be going on?"

"Fucking hell, Potter," Draco sighed as he got to his feet and made his way across to the other side of the room for a reason that could not quite be determined. "No, I don't. She's a pretty piece of flesh, I'll give her that, but otherwise I have little to no interest in the girl, alright?"

There was a pause. "I think you like her."

Draco glared at him again as he rested his back against the far wall, seemingly finding comfort in having a leaning post. "I don't fucking like her," he insisted, a bit annoyed at himself for adding a swear word in every other second and making his argument seem a lot less convincing. "I don't like her," he repeated in a calmer voice. "I'm not into relationships, anyway. I'm a one night stand sort of guy."

"What if the opportunity arose?" Harry asked, and Draco was silent for a short while as he seemed to consider this. Harry pressed a bit more, hoping he had found his chance to get an honest answer from Draco. "What if she said she was fed up with Ron, and she wanted to run away with you or something? Would you still be a one night stand sort of guy then?"

Another moment of silence passed by before Draco spoke, and when he did it was without much enthusiasm. "I would still be a one night stand sort of guy. I'm not interested in her, Potter. Honestly, I think she's got a nice pair of legs and she's a bit feisty, which is always sexy. But I would never go as far as to- you know, try it on."

Harry paused, before saying, "Oh. Well, good."

Draco raised his brow briefly and looked over at Harry with vague curiosity, despite the comment being fairly self explanatory. "Why good?"

"Because she's my friend," Harry said after some consideration, "and Ron is my friend, too. They've been together since we left school, practically before, and I think it would be really stupid if they broke up just because of- well, you."

This made Draco look a bit irritated, and he looked at Harry for a very long and drawn out moment. "Oh, so I'm 'just me' now? That's very charming indeed, a great compliment. I'd imagine you're quite the Casanova with the other blokes."

"You know that's not what I meant," Harry said with a little smirk as he raised an eyebrow across at Draco. "Sit down, you idiot. Putting distance between you and me isn't going to make you stop fancying Hermione, even if you don't."

Taking the point, Draco returned the smile and sauntered back across the room to flop down next to Harry. The smile soon turned into a little pout as he spoke into the silence, "I think it's just because I haven't had sex in a few days. I'm seeing opportunities all over the bloody place. You know, I even considered calling Lavender Brown the other night."

Harry laughed at this for a long moment, soon joined by Draco, who he nudged playfully in the side with his elbow as he said, "You liar, I don't believe that for a second."

"Am I not convincing?" Draco pouted once again, giving Harry his very best attempt at an innocent look, which only made Harry laugh louder. "Oi, don't laugh at me - it's not very nice."

"Well, I'm not a very nice person," Harry started in a sarcastic drawl, before acting surprised as though he had just caught himself, and adding in his normal voice, "Oops, that's your line, isn't it?"

Draco shook his head and laughed a bit, nudging Harry back a little harder than the other boy had done. "You're a strange and unusual little freak, Potter."

Harry grinned and couldn't resist elbowing Draco once again in return, although his efforts weren't particularly involved. "Technically, strange and unusual mean the same thing."

"Maybe I was re-emphasising " Draco pouted, allowing himself to be pushed over to one side of the sofa by the other boy. There was a pause, and he took a moment where Harry looked away to shove him off the side of the chair onto the floor. "Hah."

Looking up at Draco, Harry swatted his legs. "I think you did that on purpose."

"Me? Never."

* * *

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Mm hmm," Harry looked up from what he was doing on the kitchen table over at Draco, who was making himself a cheese and onion flavoured crisps sandwich, and was currently crushing the crisps into small pieces on the side counter with his fingers.

Draco looked over for a minute and pointed to the paperwork that was laid out in front of Harry with a salty fingertip. "What's that?"

Harry smirked. "This is my masterpiece plan. I can't tell you yet; it's top secret."

"I answered your question."

Harry shook his head and smiled over at Draco, turning back to his papers and scribbling something out with his pencil before realising he could turn it around and rub out the apparently wrong calculation with the other end.

Finishing off crunching up his crisps and putting all the pieces on a slice of bread to form a simple, if not completely unhealthy sandwich, Draco sucked off anything that was still on his fingers and carried his snack over as he sat down beside Harry and tried to peer over his shoulder. Harry smirked a little and covered the papers, before finally picking them up and leaving them out of Draco's reach.

Draco pouted very obviously at this, snatching for the paper uselessly for a few seconds before giving up. "That's not fair, I want to know what you're doing."

"Alright," Harry said after a minute, turning up his nose as Draco bit into his sandwich and it made a loud crunching noise. "I'll tell you, but it's only a rough idea."

Grinning, Draco put the sandwich down on the table. "Yay." There was only a brief pause of silence, but Draco was clearly feeling childish once again, because he said quickly and demandingly, "Well?"

"I was thinking about what you said about the money," Harry explained, and he put his papers back down on the desk to show Draco that what he had actually been doing was drawing up little tables and sums, a lot of which had been scribbled out due to the fact that Harry had never been a very keen mathematician. "And, I had a bit of an idea. You know how you didn't get that job?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Thank you very much for the reminder."

Smirking a bit, Harry continued to speak without reacting further to Draco's sarcasm. "I thought that I could use my money to help you start a business or something. You could start your own nightclub, I thought it was a really cool idea."

"Because your definition of cool is the one that's carved in stone?" Draco retorted lightly, although there was some interest in his expression as he glanced over the papers, scanning them with his eyes and biting his lip thoughtfully. "It's not a bad idea, I suppose. I don't love the idea of being financially dependent on you-"

"Well, see, I'd be dependent on you too," Harry said with a nod, to which Draco raised an eyebrow inquiringly. "Because I'd be living here and you would have the power to kick me out at any second." He grinned hopefully.

There was a long pause, which was only not completely silent because of Draco munching thoughtfully on his sandwich. "Why exactly would you be living with me? It's a bit of a jump from running a club or a business to you playing sleepover with me." He paused, and frowned before adding, "Not like that."

"I don't like living alone," Harry admitted. "It's- it's a bit crap. And I don't like my job, and you don't have one, and I have all that money- I just thought it would be a good idea."

"Well, it's not a bad idea," Draco said thoughtfully.

Harry smiled. "Will you at least give it some consideration?"

There was a short pause, and then Draco gave a smile and said, "Yeah - I think I will."