Just Stay There {Drarry}

Chapter eleven

Harry cautiously approached Snape the next morning. The man was already awake, and looked like he was getting ready to make something for breakfast. Omelettes maybe.

He turned towards Harry, and took in the boy's ruffled and nervous exterior. "Have you made a decision?" Snape asked, turning back to his task of getting the gas stovetop to work properly.

"Yeah, I think so," Harry said, perching himself on the counter closest to him. Snape grunted as a go ahead for him to continue talking. "I think it would be... okay, if the Malfoy's were to visit." he said, crossing his ankles nervously.

He watched Snape finally get the flames to turn to the right height, and place a small non-stick pan on top. Alright, so he was definitely making omelettes.

"Okay, I'll inform Lucius around midday." Snape said absently, as he cracked the first egg into a small bowl. "Would you like an omelette?"

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Potter sat in front of him, twitching at every minute sound. His wardrobe had changed drastically since they talked yesterday. Potter wore old-ish jeans with a baggy tee. A stark contrast compared to the light blue crop top and navy shorts he had been wearing in the morning. Severus regarded him carefully, trying to convey silently that it wouldn't be as terrible as they both predicted it would be.

When Severus had firecalled Lucius during lunch, and told him the news, there had been a mixed response. Surprise most prominent, trepidation, confusion, then reluctantly, an almost morbid like acceptance. Severus hadn't been able to tell much through the floo, but he sensed there was more behind Lucius's lack of a dramatic reaction. Potter had certainly had quite the reaction.

Right now the boy was trying his hardest not to look more terrified than a three year old going to the dentist for the first time.

Severus had narrowed down Draco's and Harry's interactions into three different possibilities. First, and most likely to happen, forced civility. He and the Malfoys would barely interact. When he and Lucius left, either Draco or Potter would stalk off to the barely seen parts of the house, and ignore each other like the plague.

Second, literal explosions, Draco and Potter would spend the whole evening fighting and arguing. It wasn't the most pleasant of possible options, but it was probable with the boy's history.

Third, and least likely to happen, begrudging compliance. He couldn't cross this one off his list of outcomes, because it was a, slightly irrational, possibility. If the boys could get over their pride and have a regular conversation, then they might become something of acquaintances. Maybe it was wishful thinking. Maybe it was hoping they wouldn't burn down the house.

He glanced at the analog clock again, and confirmed to himself that it was almost the time set for the Malfoys to come through the floo. Potter kept glancing at the clock as well. Almost like he was afraid it would combust.

"You do not have to be present to greet them," he reminded Potter, who looked very close to passing out.

The boy gulped audibly, and shook his head. "I want to know when they get here,"

"There are alarms for such things," all he got in response was another frantic shake of Potter's head.

Exactly as the clock struck 5:50, the flames in the hearth turned lime green. Lucius Malfoy stepped out wearing dreary black robes, that, if death eaters were honest with themselves, were purely for aesthetic. Lucius barely spared Potter a glance, although he could tell the boy was practically frozen.

"Hullo Severus, let's get this over with shall we?" Lucius said with a false sense of casualty. He knew the man well enough to know that neither of them were calm in the least.