Stone Grey and Forest Green

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No one said a word when Harry and Draco walked into the Weasley's kitchen. Everyone's eyes were on the blonde haired intruder, Harry swore he could see several jaws unhinge.

Harry shrugged off his coat and extended his arm toward Malfoy who placed his suitcase on the wooden floor hesitantly before removing his own coat and placing it over Harry's arm.

"Well, now that they're here I think we can begin dinner," Hermione cut through the silence of the room, taking a seat next to Ron at the table who was glaring at Malfoy. Mrs Weasley collected herself and nodded in agreement, flicking her wand and causing the lids of the pots on the table runner to lift off and pile themselves in the sink.

There were two spots left at the table, one next to Ron who was piling his plate with food, still glancing distrustfully at Draco, and the other adjacent to it and beside Arthur at the head of the table.

Harry sat next to his best friend and pulled out the last remaining empty chair for Malfoy. He studied at Arthur's unsure expression as the son of the man who despised him and his family sat at his table next to him silently, fully aware of all the eyes upon him.

The initial shock of Malfoy's sudden appearance seemed to wear off after several minutes. Usual conversation resumed and Harry began to dig into his dinner. He kept glancing at Malfoy, attempting to decipher his body language in order to discern whether he was okay.

Harry placed his fork down momentarily on his plate and brought his right hand under the table cautiously. He turned to the conversation, more like an argument, that Ginny and Ron were having as he reached for Malfoy's arm in a gesture of support. His hand connected with fabric and Draco jumped in alarm.

Harry realised that it was not his arm that his knuckles had brushed against, it was Draco's thigh.

If life was a cartoon, steam would be billowing out of Draco's ears as his face turned bright red and his eyes bore holes into the boy next to him. Harry stifled a laugh and smiled at him apologetically.

"Sorry," said Harry, still chuckling.

"I get that I'm irresistible, Potter. But could you please refrain from feeling me up at the dinner table," Draco hissed, regaining his composure with a sly smirk. Harry curled his fingers into a fist and punched him in the same place his fingers brushed against not too long ago.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry shook his head with a small smile still plastered on his face.

"Oh no dear," Mrs Weasley took the dirty plate out of Malfoy's hands. "You go upstairs with Harry now and put your stuff down."

Draco looked at Harry unsurely who nodded before grabbing both of their coats and Draco's suitcase.

"Give me that," Malfoy ordered, snatching the handle away from Harry's grasp.

Harry led the way up the creaking stairs, looking back to Draco every so often, laughing to himself as the ex-rich kid looked around in disgust at the Burrow's dirty and raggedy interior.

"This is it," Harry pushed open Ron's bedroom door. Draco's face said it all and Harry rolled his eyes with a smile. "Nine days, I'm sure you can survive. It's better than being locked up in the castle."

Draco nodded, glancing around distastefully at all of Ron's memorabilia and knick-knacks.

"This is you," Harry pointed to the stretcher bed next to his own, placing both their coats on the stand behind Ron's door. "Sorry, it's no four poster."

"It's fine," Draco placed his suitcase emblazoned with the Malfoy crest at the foot of the makeshift bed. "But I guess it is better than being at Hogwarts or, home."

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