A Cup of Tea, Please

9 | What Lies Behind Those Eyes

"It's dark in here," Malfoy commented as soon as Harry shut the door, "where are the lights?"

"Oh, I forgot to fix them," Harry said with a frown, disappointed in himself. How did he spend the whole day cleaning yet completely forget about the faulty electricity? But just as he went to grab his wand, the hallway was illuminated by the chandelier in the centre of the ceiling. He turned his head to look at Malfoy, who was holding his wand out.

"Maybe I overestimated your power," Malfoy said, smiling to himself, "glad that I can feel safe again."

"For the last time, Malfoy," Harry started, "I'm not going to kill you!"

"And I thought you spend the entire day cleaning."

Harry bit his lip as he noticed that Malfoy had spotted the tangles of silver cobwebs in the corner of the corridor.

"I spent the day cleaning the kitchen!" Harry said in an attempt to defend himself, but clearly that didn't make any sense to Malfoy.

"A day cleaning the kitchen?" he rephrased it as a question. "What spell did you even use? Were you clearing every atom of filth individually?"

"Well--" Harry hated to admit that he didn't know that many everyday spells. But before he could say anything else, Malfoy cut him off.

"Am I a guest here, or a servant?" Malfoy huffed, waving his wand once more, which instantly evaporated every piece of filth they could see.

"What spell did you even use?" Harry asked, wide-eyed.

"How can someone be so dumb yet so powerful?" Malfoy muttered, before raising his voice. "And I used Scourgify. I thought you'd already know."

"It's not my fault that nobody taught me how to clean using magic," Harry rolled his eyes and led the way to the kitchen, which was dimly lit by the fireplace on the opposite side of the room along with a few candles scattered here and there. "Feel free to take a seat."

Malfoy seemed hesitant to, as he examined one of the wooden chairs at the table closely before tracing his finger over it, checking it for any signs of filth. And much to Harry's surprise, he didn't grimace.

"Well you've certainly cleaned the kitchen well," the blonde said, sitting down, "and how about you? Aren't you going to sit down as well?"

He watched Harry walk over to the counter, "No. I'm going to make us some tea. And then I'll sit down."

"I'd rather you not," Malfoy snorted, leaning back in his chair, "I can't trust you with not lacing my cup with something."

"Malfoy, I've already told you numerous times, I'm not planning on killing you!"

"Potter, it's ten in the night, and I don't appreciate having caffeine at night."

Harry turned around, holding a plastic jug of milk, "It's mainly milk since it's just cha."

"Cha?" Malfoy asked, a bit confused.

"Yes, Malfoy, cha. Sirius made some for me once since he said my dad used to love it, and I guess it was love at first sight, or taste." Harry grinned.

"Sirius?" Malfoy questioned further.

Oh what a bloody idiot Harry was.

"You were in contact with him? The traitor?" the blonde persisted.

Harry didn't know what to do now except stand there and wish that the ground would open up and swallow him whole. But then a brilliant idea struck his mind, which wasn't that brilliant, just common sense, but brilliant enough for Harry.