Chapter Text
The first time it happens, Draco does not really notice it. At least not immediately.
They had miraculously survived the final battle against Voldemort, and gone back to Hogwarts to complete their seventh and final year. It was strange going back after the battle. It's really just a formality to finish the last of their assessments so that they can move into work easier.
It's during this year Draco becomes closer to Harry. He supposes Harry saving his life during the battle of Hogwarts put a more positive light on their years of rivalry. Hard to hate the chosen one when you actually wouldn't be there without him. It took some fumbled and awkward conversations when they arrived back at school. But eventually they're smiling rather than frowning when they see each-other. Draco finds himself seeking out Harry's company.
Hogwarts as a school evolves. Students putting it all on the line to stay alive. Fighting side-by-side regardless of house. Seems to mend walls that had been built by the founders years ago.
Suddenly the houses feel like a sort of formality. It's not uncommon to find a Hufflepuff in the Slytherin common room and it is situation normal to sit at whatever freaking table in the newly restored great hall that you want. The classes are divided less by houses so more of their own year group from different houses are in all of their lessons.
Draco finds himself inexplicably sitting not far from Harry in pretty much everything. Harry has a way of making him feel seen that he has become semi-addicted to. In classes, during Hogsmede trips. Especially during meals. At first it was the same table. Then closer and closer as the weeks go by in their final year.
So one day, over dinner, he is sitting next to Harry, across from Ron and Hermione. They're over half way through the year. Ron, Hermione and Harry didn't even blink when he sat down there. Harry always leaves the space open for him.
Ron as usual is digging into the food. Hermione is paying half attention to her food and half to the book resting next to her plate.
Harry, as always, is eating like a man starved. He eats his fair share and grabs more food in snatching movements. If another had comes close to something he had been eyeing, his seeker quick hands have snatched it before the other hand can. Through this efficient eating he seems to also manage to savour his food more than anyone else as well. What catches Draco's attention is when he sees Harry wrap some fruit and cookies in his napkin and tuck it into one of the pockets of his robes. Odd. Draco even sees him wrapped some fruit in a napkin and tucking it into the pocket of his robes.
"Slow down there Potter. Plenty of food for all. No need to sneak it away." Draco teases, nudging Harry's side gently.
After months of a warming friendship, Draco feels much more comfortable with Harry then he ever thought possible with another person, let alone Harry Potter. The instinct to call him exclusively by his last name never seems to fade though. It's a far warmer tone on the name than he used to use.
"Force of habit. Eat well and save food for later. You never know when you're going to get stuck again eating the scraps of someone's plate or nothing at all." Harry's voice is light as he shrugs and grins at Draco. He's just continuing the conversation. He doesn't seem to even have thought much of his words. The words don't strike him as odd. Perhaps the tone throws Draco off from actually considering the words.
The conversation moves on rapidly and Draco doesn't actually think about what Harry said until he is laying in bed hours later staring up at the dark green canopy above his mattress.
Forming different bonds with those outside the pureblood families has given him a very different perspective on his own upbringing. He is more aware of the fact that death eaters for parents did affect him. Aware that the constraining environment and conservative minded social circles was suffocating for her personal growth.
So it is fair to say that he is aware that he himself did not have the best childhood. The cold, quiet and often empty Malfoy manor in hindsight is not really the place to raise a child.
Until really know though, Draco has not considered what Harry experienced growing up. Not that he was not aware that Harry had lived with his muggle aunt and uncle and their greedy son. But more the details were things he did not know. Things he had never discussed with Harry. Why would he? They've only become actual friends in the last few months and that kind of heart to heart was not where their relationship currently sat.
One thing he always had certainty of in his house, was a warm and filling meal. Even if he often ate it alone, there was always food on the table for him and plenty of it.
So the idea that little Harry was eating scraps of his cousins plate, or having to sneak any food he was able to find, into his pocket to eat later. That he may not have had food at all for hours at a time.
Draco feels his heart clench at the thought. He remembers young Harry. All bony limbs in clothes far too big on the train. Thinks of how hungry that innocent young boy must have been. How strange it must have been to go to a place where food magically appeared at the table and it never ran out. A place where no one had first dibs on the food and scraps were not given to what Harry's family apparently viewed as a lower human.
From that day onwards he resolves to never ever comment on how much Harry eats again. Even spooning more of a dish he noticed Harry enjoying onto his plate. Handing him the remains of a roll he didn't finish or half a dessert he had wanted to try. And from then on he also slips a little something into his own pocket at meals and quietly hands it to Harry at any moments he things it is helpful. In the changing rooms before quidditch games, under the table in potions class.
Draco will be damned if that precious, unruly, dark haired boy ever goes hungry again.