CHROMA | drarry

e. be a body

Harry glanced on the weird mechanical round thing that is strapped with brown leather in his wrist; an item Draco has never seen his entire life. He leaned forward slightly to see the object on Harry's wrist.

It seemed to be ticking slowly, the small but lengthy hands pointing to a small '5', and the others seems to be circling around the numbers ever so slowly.

"Let's. Before school starts." Harry said, coughing slightly as he noticed that Draco didn't even bother to hide his admiration to the watch in his wrist. Sirius had given it to him for his birthday a couple years ago. "Draco? What are you doing?"

The now lavender haired man squinted at the watch even harder, "What is that thing on your wrist?"

"It's a watch," Harry chuckled, proceeding to continue at the no avail of acknowledgement from the other boy which hair's is turning light saffron in interest. "It's a Muggle gadget, to tell the time. It's a smaller version of a clock, which you hang on a wall. A watch can be worn in your wrist so it's more practical."

"Oh." Draco blinked at it once again, then coughed and straightened up as his hair turns rosé in bashfulness. "Well, it's stupid, and you can cast Tempus. May we proceed?"

Harry smirked slightly at Draco's diffidence on trying to conceal his obvious interest towards the his watch, "Sure."

The Slytherin circled around the sofa, cinereous eyes drifting ahead the hissing inferno set in the fireplace as it faintly spat sparks everywhere. Draco, once again was into another predicament. He genuinely wanted to know if Harry is serious about helping him, because the spell drains a vast amount of energy. It will exhaust the functioning capacity of the two parties; imagine Draco alone.

"Are you sure you want to help?"

"Yes." Harry instantaneously confirmed, he didn't want to give the wrong ideas to Draco by hesitating. Which he isn't, he really meant it when he said that he wanted to help.

Draco sighed and inclined his head with a hint of surrender, "I might have to warn you one more time that this will tire you, you can back down now if you need to store your energy to fight another Dark Lord or something."

Harry laughed softly and waved a hand in dismissal, "I might want to back down on that, if another Dark Lord rises. Where's my chance to be a mundane wizard without having to stress over another copy of Voldemort? No, thanks."

"I'm pretty certain people is already fed up with your face plastered all over the Prophet for the last 17 years," Draco drawled, eyebrow lifted. "Even I had enough of seeing your face every morning every time I try to read the Prophet during breakfast."

"We'll have none of that anymore then because I'm pretty bloody sick with combating evil noseless megalomaniacs." Harry shot a lopsided grin and leaned against the sofa. "Can we start now?"

"Alright then."

Draco pulled out his wand from his robe pocket, the wand that Harry had previously used that helped him lead towards Voldemort's demise; the wand that obeyed him and grew accustomed to. The one and only Hawthorn wand Harry had given back to the original master which is Draco himself way back to the beginning of 8th year.

It was odd, how the wand had followed each and every of Harry's orders. He had once mistook Ron's wand as his own and it felt foreign in his grip, like it wasn't even supposed to be used to him and as if it obeyed Ron to the fullest. Draco's wand felt like home, it doesn't feel any different from his original wand and the way that it completely allowed itself to be ruled by Harry.

Harry walked up to Draco, standing abreast from the other man that is currently twirling his wand in a smooth gesticulation of his lissome fingers. "The spell is Neutrum Capillum, don't get it wrong; or else it'll drain more of our energy."