Chapter Text
“Follow me,” Draco said, leading him through the entrance.
They walked at a leisurely pace, giving Harry the chance to have a look around as they passed. All things considered, such as the fact that he was here without the risk of getting caught or looking for a possible murderer, the common room actually seemed quite nice.
Sure, it was still a bit darker than the Gryffindor Tower, but the place actually seemed quite… cozy. There were some scattered cushions on the carpet by the fire, surrounded by worn leather sofas. The light from the lake glowed through the windows, lighting up the different corners of the room in a somewhat striking way as they reflected on the various surfaces there.
“This way,” the Slytherin instructed him, not even sparing a glance around the room. There were a few curious stares but other than that, nobody seemed to mind his presence there. It was no secret that it had become more common to allow members of other houses into their dorms, provided that they were let in by one of the hosting house members.
Harry followed the blond as they passed an array of doors which he assumed were the different student accomodations for the lower years before they stopped at the one on the very end, looking much like the previous ones did.
When they walked in, Harry was somewhat disappointed to note that it wasn’t much different from their own room in Gryffindor, bar that it seemed slightly more spacious as it was rectangular in shape rather than circular.
“What, were you expecting that we have larger beds and a sitting room?” Draco snorted once Harry voiced his thoughts. “No, the founders of the school wanted to make sure that this was equal for most all students. The only difference is whether or not you want to customize it a bit, like my bed sheets.”
Now that he had pointed it out, Harry noticed that unlike the blankets he had on his own bed, Draco’s had a thin duvet on it, something that shouldn’t make him overheat during the hotter parts of the year given the cool air of the dorm from being situated under the lake.
“I hadn’t realized that you could do that,” Harry grumbled, suddenly wishing that he had brought something to personalize his own area in his dorm.
“Most don’t bother,” Draco shrugged, kneeling at the foot of what Harry presumed was his own bed and opening his trunk to rummage through it. “You can take a seat, it might take me a while to find it since I lost a book yesterday and kinda threw everything around.
When Harry peered over his shoulder, he realized that the inside of his trunk was expanded and, even worse, the many cabinets it came with were also expanded. He figured that yeah, it would take a while, he might as well take a seat.
Except he didn’t take a seat and instead flopped face down into Draco’s bedding, inhaling the soft scent that can only be described as Draco.
“Well you sound comfortable,” Draco snorted, his head now inside the trunk. Harry rolled over so that he could respond properly, except his head rolled onto the corner of something hard and somewhat sharp.
“Ouch,” he mumbled, moving his head off the offending object to take a look at it. The object, as it turns out, was a hard-bound book on plants, or something. “What’s this?” he asked, holding the book up for the man on the floor to see.
“Huh?” Draco asked, his voice muffled. He peeked his head from the top of the casing and eyed the item in Harry’s hand. “Oh, that. It’s Neville’s. He left it here when he came by yesterday.”
“Neville comes here often, then?” Harry asked, trying to go for nonchalant and possibly missing by a mile. He silently glared at the book once Draco buried his head back in the suitcase.
“Sometimes. When we get tired after tending to the greenhouse, for example, or when Potions is our last period and he’d rather stay here instead of go all the way to the library or something since I have a sufficient amount of books,” Draco responded absentmindedly. “Aha!”
“You found it?” Harry asked, shoving away all the possible reasons and things they get up to when he and Neville are in here, because Harry was the one who was with him now, and he’d much rather savour the moment.
“Yes,” Draco nodded, getting up. “This would probably be better if we did it in the bathroom. They’d kill me if I got our floor wet because I’m pretty shite at cleaning charms.”
“After you fixed up a whole castle?” Harry snorted, smiling at the thought.
“They assigned me to more technical tasks,” the blond shrugged. “Probably recognized precious cargo when they saw it.”
Harry had to stop himself from agreeing eagerly to the last comment, instead choosing to let out a huff of laughter as he followed the Slytherin into their bathroom.
“Okay so first, I’m going to need you to wet your hair. We’ll work in the potion after that and let it sit before rinsing it out. It should last you a while, but you should probably redo the treatment every week or every other week to maintain it,” Draco instructed, waving him off to one of the showers.
Harry stripped off his shirt before stepping in, tilting his head carefully to make sure he didn’t wet his jeans before placing a towel over his shoulders before walking out.
Draco, who had been fumbling with the potion, nearly dropped the glass vial when he saw Harry. “Where is your shirt?” he asked, his voice sounding odd.
Harry gave him a questioning look. “You told me to wet my hair, so I figured I might as well preserve my shirt for later.”
“Right,” Draco said, clearing his throat. His cheeks were an appealing shade of pink, though for what reason, Harry didn’t know. “Take a seat so I can massage it in, and remember to pay attention so you can do it on your own.”
Harry immediately sank down on the stool Draco had transfigured, the blond moving around him until he was situated at his back. “It’s going to feel cold,” he warned.
Suddenly, he felt the potion drip through the hairs on his scalp, caught at the base by Draco’s hand so the excess didn’t go to waste. Harry let out a violent shudder despite the previous warning and resisted the urge to squirm and distract the man that had volunteered to help him.
The hand began working the excess potion through his hair, massaging his scalp with just the right amount of pressure and making sure to cover every inch of his head. And hell, if his fingers didn’t feel like magic.
Well, technicalities.
“You’re good at this,” Harry mumbled, resisting the urge to groan at how good it felt.
“I’m good at many things,” was the immediate response, making Harry’s thoughts spiral downwards. Thoughts and, apparently, the blood that was meant to be flowing through his brain.
He willed himself not to think of those things, however, because he was practically exposed like this, and he didn’t want to make Draco uncomfortable by a surprise hard-on.
Instead, he tipped his head back and let it rest lightly against the flat of Draco’s stomach, looking him in the eye. His gray eyes, unfortunately, did not look back, seeing as they were much more focused on the task at hand, the fingers massaging his head not even pausing at the movement.
“I have no doubt of that,” Harry grinned cheekily.
“Stop that,” Draco mumbled. Maybe the lighting in the Slytherin bathrooms was strange, because it wasn’t like Draco to seem flushed so often. “You’re wetting my shirt with the potion and wasting good product.”
Harry let out a laugh at that and obediently straightened himself, allowing Draco to continue with his work. It took a few minutes; time Harry savoured greatly because of how good Draco was at giving head massages, until they were finally finished. Harry was almost disappointed to think that he’d have to do this on his own the next time.
“Alright, go rinse your hair off,” Draco commanded. “I’ll fetch you a clean spare towel since some of the potion dripped on the one you’re using now.”
In all honesty, Harry didn’t mind, but Draco was being kind, so he would indulge. He heard Draco’s footsteps fade under the sounds of the rushing water of the shower, scrubbing at his head lazily until the slick texture of the potion could no longer be felt. When he turned around, he saw a fresh towel slung over the door and grabbed it, using it to rub vigorously at his wet hair.
“Oh, for Salazar’s sakes,” Draco huffed, walking back into the bathroom dressed in his pajamas with his hair wet.. “No wonder your hair is in constant disarray. Give me that!”
He snatched the towel from Harry’s clutches before reaching up to pat the towel firmly against his head, scrunching his hair through the thick material. “If you do it like that, your hair could become frizzy, and it damages your hair if you do it too hard.”
Harry, not paying that much attention to the words that came out of the exasperated Slytherin’s mouth, found himself leaning into the touch and sighing contentedly. “Feels nice when you do it,” he murmured, causing Draco’s lips to quirk upwards.
“Honestly,” Draco huffed. “You’re like a dog.” That did not discourage him, however, from continuing. Instead, his touches became more gentle and soft- or rather, that’s how it felt to Harry.
This went on for a few more minutes, a bit longer than expected and very close to what could be considered suspicious, before Draco grabbed his discarded shirt and tossed it back to him. “C’mon, it should be dry enough to try and style for now. You’ll have to do this part every day on your own, though, so do try to pay attention this time.”
Harry was sorely tempted to do the complete opposite, if not because he’d rather have Draco do it for him every day then for the reason of just spiting him in general.
They sat back down on the bed with Harry positioned at the end while Draco sat on his knees behind him. He summoned a full-length mirror that was placed by his bed-side so that Harry could see what he was doing.
He felt the bed shift behind him, watching the blond hair peek above his own dark curls as Draco attempted to position himself higher so see what he was doing as well as be able to look over Harry’s figure, grumbling and wishing he were taller.
Harry was inexplicably charmed, and it took everything in him to not break out into the goofiest, soppy grin.
“Alright,” Draco huffed once he managed to get himself into an acceptable position which was, unfortunately for Harry, having him practically pressed up against his back. “Watch.”
Harry did his best to watch what he was doing, something that prooved to be a trying task once he found his eyes wandering towards the pale fingers that worked their way through his hair and the slightest hint of a pink tongue poking through a pair of plump lips and, much like when they were in the bathroom, the soothing way Draco’s hands felt against his scalp.
Draco stopped moving for a second, bending down until his chin was practically resting against his shoulder to look at Harry’s reflection at eye-level, causing him to resist the urge to squirm.
“Hmm,” Draco hummed before straightening himself. “Maybe not.”
“Maybe not what?” Harry grinned. “I think it looked fantastic.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m the one managing your hair right now, isn’t it?” Draco retorted, still focused on the task at hand.
Harry let out a huff of laughter.”Then maybe you should be the one to fix me up every morning,” he said.
“If you’d come down earlier with enough time for me to fix you up before classes start, then maybe I’d consider it,” Draco shot back. Harry wondered if he was being serious about that offer, then decided he’d take it even if it wasn’t actually being offered.
“Sure,” Harry shrugged. “But there’s no class tomorrow, so how do you feel about doing it sometime between before and after lunch, depending on when I wake up?” Harry teased.
“There!” Draco said triumphantly before bending down once again to check Harry’s reflection in the mirror. Seemingly deciding that the reflection was no longer good enough, he instead shifted a bit to the side and grabbed Harry’s face, turning it to face him.
Harry felt a blush creep up from his cheeks and mentally willed them to stop since Draco’s hands were on his face and would most likely be able to feel the warmth in his cheeks even if it were covered by his hands.
“Looks good,” Draco grinned satisfactorily before flopping down on his bed. Harry lied down as well so that they were side by side, their shoulders just barely touching. “And I would tomorrow, but I’m going out with Neville to Hogsmead.”
It took a second for Harry to remember what they were talking about but when he did, he felt his heart drop a little and his good mood sour.
“Oh,” was all he said.
“But I could probably do it before class if you actually do get up, that is until you get the hang of it at least,”’ Draco conceded, not noticing the odd tone to Harry’s voice.
“So you’re going out with Neville, then?” He asked, trying not to sound toi bitter.
“Well yeah,” Draco shrugged, side-eyeing him before looking back up at the ceiling. “He asked me to come with him.”
“Hmm,” Harry said, unsure of what else to say. “Have fun , then.”
“Why are you being odd?” Draco asked him. Harry flushed again, regretting letting himself be so transparent.
“Nothing, I was just curious,” Harry lied. “I’ll probably go with Ron and Hermione if they don’t have a date planned yet.”
“Good luck with that,” Draco laughed. “Well, he wants to leave right after breakfast, so I should probably rest early.”
As if to further his point, Zabini walked in with Theo trailing behind him, both looking as if they were ready to go to sleep.
“I should probably go then,” Harry mumbled, forcing himself up and extracting himself from the warm bed. It was nice and comfortable, and he regretted leaving it already.
“Alright,” Draco nodded, turning himself without getting up so that his head was rested on the pillow. “See you tomorrow, maybe?”
Harry nodded mutely, giving him a tight smile before letting himself out of the room, not trusting himself to say anything else that might give his feelings away.
And as he made his way down the hall, he knew that the heavy feeling he had was more than just missing the warm bed he recently left behind.