Homeless - Drarry

Shelter

Draco landed on his feet, surprisingly, but Potter had to hold him up. It had been too long since he had Apparated. They were on a street that he didn't recognize immediately, but knew that they were near central London. There was a park behind them and a row of townhouses in front of them. Draco felt uneasy as Potter hadn't taken him immediately into his home.

"Sorry, the wards are strong. I can get in and out with some effort, but I didn't want to try to bring you through it, too. Plus, the krups hate when I do that."

Draco gave him a look and nodded. He had no idea what to say.

"Alright. My address is twelve-and-a-half Grimmauld place," Potter said.

"Why are you telling me that?" Draco mused. "And twelve-and-a-half?"

Suddenly, another townhouse appeared between number eleven and thirteen. Draco's jaw dropped. Potter chuckled, watching him.

"A Fidelius Charm?" Potter has a Fidelius Charm and gave him the address?

"Yeah, I had to change the address to put a new one on it. I just wanted to sleep without Yaxley's buddies showing up in the middle of the night, cause he brought them in at one point."

Draco just stared at him. He was about to go into a house that literally no one could enter. He'd be trapped.

"Come on. I'll cook you breakfast," Potter said, strangely enthusiastic. "The krups will probably stay by me, so don't worry about them. But Kreacher is going to be ecstatic. He loves your mum." Potter walked through the front door and was immediately greeted by two krups, as promised.

"Who?" Draco asked, and found himself following him, regardless of the danger.

"My house elf? He used to work for the Black family. Hey guys... be nice to my guest, okay?" Potter told the small wizard dogs. The krups, one brown and white and one white with black spots, couldn't get enough hugs from Potter. The brownish one bared its fangs at him, but didn't do anything else. The black and white one tilted its head, interested, but came no closer. Draco noted that Potter hadn't bothered to dock their forked tails, as required by law.

But Draco thought about what Potter had said, and his forehead furrowed. Used to work for the Black family? He knew that his mum was a Black, but his grandmother's house elf died, unless he meant his mother's aunt, but why did Potter have Great Aunt Walburga's house elf? He didn't ask.

"Kreacher?" his rescuer called, after the krups got sufficient attention.

A Pop! announced the elderly house elf's arrival. The krups started barking. "Master Harry! You' se out late!"

"Calm down, guys! Don't call me Master Harry, Kreacher, please. This is Draco Malfoy. He'll be staying here for a while."

Draco was surprised at that declaration. He assumed it was for the night... or day rather. The sun was due to rise anytime now. He was about to say something when the house elf, bowed low to him.

"Master Malfoy! Tis an honor to meet you, Sir! Kreacher loved Miss Cissy so much!"

Draco froze at being addressed like this and looked to Potter, who smirked. "Told ya. Don't harass him, Kreacher."

"Mast-Harry, where Master Draco is going to sleep?"

"Next to mine should be fine, I guess."

"Kreacher will make it perfect!" he announced and disappeared with another loud Crack! The dogs started barking, again.

Potter sighed and petted the krups. "I try not to give him tasks, but that seems to be impossible."

Draco looked at him strangely. That sentence didn't make sense, but Potter motioned him to follow. He led him into the kitchen, which was clean, but in desperate need of a paint job.

"Sit down. It's almost breakfast anyhow. That fine?"

Draco just stared and realized that Potter was asking his opinion. He nodded. Food was food. He learned not to be picky after garbage picking for something to eat. Potter went to work, pulling out eggs, bangers and jam from the icebox. The krups circling under him for scraps, which Potter obliged them occasionally. He fried it all up quickly and made toast, too. Draco watched him, cautiously. He didn't want to let his guard down, since Potter could do anything he wanted to him.

"And here we are," Potter said, dropping a plate of scrambled eggs, bangers and toast in front of him.

Draco looked at him as a set another across the table from him. Potter brought a jug of pumpkin juice to the table and two cups, and then set them on the table in front of him.

"Need anything? All's I got is strawberry jam."

Draco nodded. "It's fine, thank you."

Potter started to eat and Draco grabbed a sausage and took a bite. He nearly choked as he wasn't expecting it to be hot. His tongue was a little scorched, but he didn't care. He didn't get to eat hot food anymore. Sometimes, he got warm food at the homeless shelter. But Potter's was delicious... he had forgotten how fantastic food tastes when it's right off the stove. He finished it quickly and started on the eggs. They were great. Cold eggs were the worst.

However, he realized that Potter stopped eating. Draco looked up at him. Potter was staring at him with a strange expression, with his fork stopped halfway to his mouth. Draco looked back down, blushing. He had been on the streets for too long. He was used to grabbing food with his fingers. He hadn't even noticed the silverware that Potter had put on the plate.

"Sorry," he muttered—strange being taught manners by the uncouth Gryffindor.

"It's okay," Harry said and continued to eat.

Draco took the fork on his plate and awkwardly slid some eggs on it. The muscle memory was coming back, and he remembered how to do it. He quickly finished his food, his belly almost filled for the first time in months... if not the whole year. He almost wished for more and, like Potter had heard his wish, he got up and brought the pan back to the table. He dumped another pile of eggs on his plate and two more bangers.

"There you go. Wasn't sure how hungry you were," Potter said and sat back down.

Draco wasn't even self-conscious about Potter watching him eat. He hadn't had this much food in so long. He finished it all and almost felt a little sick with the strange feeling of being full.

"What more? I can cook more," Potter offered.

Draco shook his head. "This is enough. Thank you."

"It wasn't a problem, Draco."

He shuddered at the name. Why does Potter keep calling me that?

"Besides... these krups eat enough of my socks, they don't need leftovers. Come on... I'll show you to your room. This old townhouse has plenty. It should be relatively clean. I'd put you in the real guest room, but Ron and Hermione usually sleep in there. It's kinda their room."

Draco didn't want to sleep in a bed that Weasley defiled with Granger, who could do better than that blundering idiot. But he wasn't going to turn down a free bed, either. Beggars can't be choosers and he was one.

Potter stopped and the krups jumped up on him, as though he still had food. "No, Shadow, Gus, I'll feed you in a second. Sorry... they're rescues. Cracked a krup-fighting ring awhile back. Lucky they were just pups. But here's my room, if you need anything. Yours is the next one down."

Potter led him into a large bedroom room that looked immaculate, compared to what he was used to. Dusted, paint restored, wood polished and carpet cleaned. Draco could smell fresh flowers in a vase, too. Potter sighed. "Well, it was a mess. Thank Kreacher when you see him next. Oy vey, he lets the house fall to ruins and watches me struggle to repair it. Kreacher? Did you take these flowers out of the garden? Little bastard."

Draco looked around the room and didn't want to touch anything. He knew he was filthy.

"Alright... well, there's an ensuite bathroom, too. You won't have to worry about sharing a bathroom with me. There's a tub and a shower... you might need..." Harry poked his head in there. "...some supplies. I'll be right back."

Draco didn't move as Harry and his two followers left the room. He didn't know how to handle this. He didn't know what to do. His nerves were stretched to the limit. The attack... the rescue... his shakes were coming back. This was too much. What did Potter want?

"Hey, calm down," his rescuer said, as he came back with an armful of stuff. He set it down and guided him to a chair. Potter knelt in front of him.

He broke down crying, again. Fuck, he was a battle-hardened criminal, who survived a year on the streets without a galleon or a clue how to survive. Why couldn't he get ahold of himself?

Potter took his hand, again. "Shh... it's okay. You're safe here, Draco."

"Stop calling me that!" he nearly shrieked. "Why the hell are you doing this, Potter?!"

Potter wasn't moved by his outburst. If anything, he looked sad. "If you prefer Malfoy, I can call you that. I was trying to be more... casual. We don't have to be enemies anymore, Dra-Malfoy. I told you I don't want anything. This is a safe place where you can stay, to find shelter. You're just going through a rough patch, right now. You can stay as long as you like Dr-Malfoy... and I'll help you get back on your feet."

Draco curled up, bringing his legs up, and rocked back and forth on the chair. He met Potter's intense eyes and looked away. "You don't need to do this."

"But I can. Did you not see the twelve rooms I have here? It's a little too quiet for my liking," Potter said, with a laugh.

"You just pick up stray street urchins off the street on a whim?"

"Not usually, but when I know them...."

"You're just enjoying how far I've fallen."

"Of course not, D-Malfoy. I wasn't happy about it at all."

"Just feel pity, then?" he growled, his arms still wrapped around his legs.

"Sure... a little. You're in a bloody awful situation and went through a horrible experience. But I do know that I owe you, too."

Draco looked at him, tears still wet in his eyes. "Owe you?"

"Yeah... you lied to your parents and Bellatrix. You knew it was me."

Draco nodded and started shaking. "He tortured us a long time for that."

Potter froze.

"Lucky, I learned Occlumency. He would have killed us all."

"I'm sorry, Draco..." he sighed. "... I mean Malfoy. Thank you... we wouldn't have gotten out alive, if he came. You saved us."

"I think people say it's the other way around."

"People are idiots. I know better. I spoke at your pre-trial, did you know?"

Draco shook his head. He had been in a holding cell after the war ended until the Ministry barrister came. He got a plea deal: probation instead of ten years. He took it. He didn't think he'd handle a cell, dementors or not. "Thank you."

"It was the least I could do. Thank you... for risking that and for what he did to you."

"I'm fine," Draco growled, but his shaking increased. "I'm fine." Those were the words he repeatedly said over the last year. Make it through the week, make it through the day, make it through the hour. "I'm f-fine." Tears started coming out, again. Fucking bloody emotions.

Potter eased up on his legs and slowly pulled him into a hug. Surprisingly, he didn't resist him. He tucked his head into Potter's wide chest, crying into it. Damn, he was ripped. He filled out, but he probably shouldn't be thinking about that. But he couldn't help but think how safe he felt. Safe for the first time in months, years... hell his whole life. His fingers clenched Potter's T-shirt.

"I got you, Draco. I'm right here," he whispered into his ear.

He let out a little sob. He wasn't sure why Potter kept calling him Draco, but he was starting to like it. But why was he a fucking hormonal girl that he keeps on crying? Come on, Draco! Pull yourself together, you whiny bitch! he thought disparagingly. His father always beat in him that crying was wrong.

"It's okay to cry, Draco," Potter told him, as though reading his mind, again.

"No, it's not," he sniffled.

"That's what society likes to think, but I've had rough patches, too. I cried a lot. Drinking until I pass out, had an addiction to Dreamless Sleep for a bit. Had to see a mind healer to stay in the Aurors. I still get nightmares... still wake up screaming," Ha-Potter said.

Draco stopped crying and Potter let go. He leaned back to stare at him, inches away from his face. Draco could read people decently well after a year hunting for scraps and handouts. Potter wasn't lying.

"You alright, now?"

Draco blushed as he just realized that he let another man, Potter, nonetheless, hug him. He nodded. Potter stood up, standing over him.

"Don't be embarrassed. You had a rough night. You can blame it on that, if you what."

"Yeah..."

"Why don't you have a shower? Relax. The water gets nice and hot. There's a bathtub, too."

"Is that your subtle hint that I smell?" he sneered.

Potter chuckled. "Yes... if that makes you happy to hear."

Draco glared at him. He hadn't done more than sink-wash in weeks.

"No... it wasn't. But really... it'll feel good. The hot water will help you calm down. Okay?"

He nodded.

"I brought you... stuff – towels, soap, brush... and other things. Feel free to use it, okay?"

"T-Thanks. Do... you want any money? I got some in my...."

"No, Draco. I don't want any money. I just Conjured the brush and toothbrush, and I had the soap and shampoo already. Don't worry about anything, please," Potter said, and he walked toward the door, his krups following him. "If you need anything, I'm next door or yell for Kreacher. He'll love to do anything for you. I'm sure. Even pick flowers out of my garden! Little bastard," Potter miffed.

"You have a garden?" Draco asked. Potter didn't seem like the gardening-type.

"Yeah. Kinda did it a lot growing up, and now that I have one, I can plant what I like."

Draco glanced at the vase of flowers. "And that includes marigolds, zinnias and Dahlias? What no Devil's Snare?"

Potter laughed. "No... I'm not Neville. He's the Herbology Professor, now. No, no, just muggle plants for me. Nothing that will kill me... or the pups... or Kreacher... apparently. See you later... Draco," Potter said, with a smirk.

Draco watched him as Potter shut the door. He slowly got up, drawn toward the bathroom and promise of a warm shower. A luxury that he had barely remembered. He felt like he aged ten years living day-to-day. He looked at the pile Potter carried in, and there were also pants, trousers and two shirts. He scowled at the door. Getting handouts was annoying, but worse when it came from Potter.

Fuck... he needed to get out of here. If the Prophet found out... he was so tired of being used by other people. His father, Voldemort, his friends... all who cared nothing for him. He didn't find one person to talk to on the streets that wasn't a crook, druggie or pimp. There were some older homeless muggles, but they were all... strange. All muggles were. Besides, they thought he was the crazy one, who didn't understand cell phones, computers and unexplainable things like electricity. He stopped asking questions after a while.

He took the borrowed clothes to loo, anyway. He stripped and cranked the water up as high as it would go. Oooh... he missed this feeling as he slipped under the water. Bloody hell... it felt amazing. Burned almost. He let the water spray on him, before he grabbed the soap and started scrubbing the grim off. Even in the constant rush of the water, he saw how dirty the water was, just like his soul. He suddenly felt like he could never be clean. He could see the bruises on hips, chest and arms from that asshole.

The dirt was going only skin deep. He couldn't forget all that stuff that the Dark Lord made him do. What the hell was Potter thinking, letting an evil bastard like him in his home? He must be crazy. Draco pushed that aside and settled for getting the best of his shower. He shampooed and conditioned his hair twice to get the dirt out. It took a solid hour of scrubbing before he turned off the water and dried off. He used Potter's transfigured brush and detangled his hair. He was relieved that despite Potter's unkempt hair, he did have some hair potions. Though judging by their flowery designs, they were probably Granger's. He took what he could get.

His hair was silky blonde, again. He smiled a little. It was nice seeing it back to normal, but he still was very skinny, which he didn't have enough weight from the beginning. He sighed and pulled on Potter's pants and a t-shirt. He realized then that his clothes were gone. Shit. Did Potter really come in here? He needed that work shirt. He grumbled and walked into the bedroom. His bed had been turned down. Potter wouldn't do that. Would he?

"Kreacher?" he called.

Pop! "Yes, Master Draco!" the old elf responded.

"Did you take my clothes?"

"Yes! Kreacher will wash them for master!"

"You know that I'm not your master, right?" he said.

"Neither is Harry, but Kreacher is willing to help!" he announced.

Draco raised an eyebrow, but didn't question him. "I'll need them back."

"Of course! Does master want anything else?"

"No... thank you."

Kreacher bowed and disappeared. Draco felt the sheets on the bed, and his hand trembled at fine thread count. He didn't know if he handle this and started to crack. I don't deserve such luxuries! I can't go soft! I'm leaving, soon. This was just a temporary shelter. He considered getting in when he heard a soft knock.

"Draco? You still up?" Potter said, quietly.

"Umm... yeah?" Draco said, unsure if he should get into the bed.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah." It's your house, he added in his head.

Potter opened the door and poked just his head in. "Everything okay?"

"You don't have to check on me every five minutes," Draco rebuked.

"No! I wasn't... I just was leaving for work. I forgot to tell you," he said and opened the door more. He was wearing his red robes.

"Oh... but you just got in?" he asked.

"I slept for a half-hour. And for some damn reason, I'm working Saturdays. Not like the Dark Lord has risen, again. I knew yesterday was going to be a long day today, but Ron wanted to pick a pub last night. But Kreacher will surely make you lunch when you get up. Eat whatever you want."

"You're going to leave me here... alone?" he said, astonished.

"I'm sure the house won't kill you," Potter deadpanned.

Draco gave him a look.

"I was joking... kinda. But you'll be fine. Kreacher will, I'm sure, give you anything you want," Potter said, loudly as though the house elf was eavesdropping.

"You're not worried that I'll... do something? Steal shit?"

Potter shrugged. "Don't got much worth stealing, besides my pups. Steal them and I'll kill you." He laughed at his joke as the krups jumped up on him, whining for attention. He petted them. "But you're not a thief, or you're a shitty one. You're not exactly flaunting all your stolen goods. So, plunder away. I'd advise against going into the attic, though. Your Aunt Walburga's portrait is in there, and she hates everyone. Might actually like you though... so go on up if you fancy a chat. She's a screamer."

Draco stared at him with an open mouth.

"Alright? See you later? If you need me, just send Kreacher. I don't have an owl. Oh... and the krups can get through doors. Not sure how. Maybe the doors are charmed like that... or they are just more magical than I thought. Well, goodnight, Draco." He went to turn and glanced at the window. He conjured dark curtains, gave him a nod and left with a smile.

What the bloody fuck? Draco thought and heard the distant roar of the fire. Probably he has Kreacher spying on him. That must be the only explanation, he thought. But Draco was running on empty. He only had a few hours of sleep, since they kick people out of the shelter at nine. He slipped into cool, soft sheets that made him think of home, and sleep was starting to pull him under.

His eyes snapped awake at the sound. You had to be a light sleeper to survive on your own. He heard the pitter-patter of the krup as he came in, literally through the door. It whined at the side of the bed. It was Potter's pup, the black and white one. Draco wasn't sure what to do, but the krup hopped up on the mattress and curled up against his side. Draco hesitantly petted it. The pup whined and stretched out so he could scratch his belly.

"Aren't you a sweetie," he whispered. He smiled and obliged the small krup, scratching him until Draco slowly drifted to sleep.

Probably gonna be a bit before the next chapter.

But anyone got any ideas for a cover? Not that I don't laugh every time I see it, cause I'm easily amused. Worms may chase you! Winky face!