“Malfoy?” His last name came floating towards him from the entrance of Draco’s dorm, where someone had been standing for quite some time before making themself known.
“Yes?” Draco answered without looking up from his work.
“What are you doing?” Potter, who was now by some stupid twist of fate his roommate, asked as he took several steps in Draco’s direction. He didn’t walk all the way over to his desk though, which was strange since Potter usually didn’t give a damn about personal space.
“I’m reading. Don’t you remember we have an oral potions exam tomorrow?” Draco lifted an eyebrow but he did so without taking his eyes off the pages. He was only half listening to Potter at the moment, because potions still was his favorite subject even though the new teacher was very hostile towards him due to his past.
“No I mean with your hands.” There was something so distinctly odd about the way Potter said those words that Draco stopped reading and actually listened to the man.
“Never saw a man knit? Honestly Potter if Skeeter comes up with a theory that you were raised by cavemen I think I would actually support it.” Draco put down his knitting work and dropped the floating charm on his potions book so he could turn around and look at Potter, who had uncharacteristically not responded to his insult yet.
“Could you teach me?” The other man blurted out after several seconds of awkward eye contact. Awkward for the other man of course, however dented Draco’s pride might be, he still had his mask firmly in place.
But the unexpected request make a visible dent in Draco’s calm facade.
“Teach you? Why would I do-” Draco stopped himself. He was a changed man now, or at least he was supposed to be, and his new image included the stupid characteristic of being nice, so he shouldn’t be refusing Potter’s request.
“Why would you want to learn knitting?” He settled on eventually, and he was surprised to see relief flood Potter’s face. If knitting was something he wanted to learn he could have just asked the Weasley matriarch. Merlin knew she didn’t do anything but knit sweaters all year long.
“I’d like to make something.” Potter answered in an almost shy tone as he scratched the back of his neck. Draco had to stop himself from laughing as he thought of how bizarre the situation was. After the childhood bullying, the war, the trauma, the many apologies and the nights and days drenched in shame, after all that Harry Potter was asking him how to knit.
The world was a funny place.
“So do I.” Draco heard himself say in a tone more gentle and kind than he thought he could ever produce. He pulled out an ornamented chest full of yarn. “So Potter. Let’s pick a colour.”
Apperantly I can’t do anything anymore without turning it into drarry #fml
I hope you liked it anyway.