Harry didn't think that was so funny. "I can manage," he tightly announced. "Tour away."
"All right," Draco said again, stepping carefully around Harry so he didn't even brush against him. That was interesting. Snape must have warned him I get spooked when touched, Harry decided. "This, as you might have deduced already, if you can see at all that is, is--"
"The living room," Harry interrupted the pompous narration, gesturing around at the blobs that looked like couches and chairs. It was actually a lot more pleasant than he would have expected from Snape's rooms. Larger, too.
"Oh, please," Draco drawled, crossing his arms in a gesture that looked elegant even when blurred. "The living room. Do you realize quite how Mugglish that sounds?"
"I was raised by Muggles," Harry said through gritted teeth.
"Yes, yes, and some of your best friends are Muggles, no doubt," Draco breezed. "It doesn't mean you can't use proper language in a wizarding setting, does it? Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, this is the sitting room, sometimes referred to as a parlor. That's a bit of an old-fashioned word these days, though I have heard Severus use it on occasion."
Harry ground his teeth together again; he was getting a bit tired of Draco constantly saying Severus. "Are you giving me a tour or an elocution lesson?"
Draco had the gall to laugh again. "Oh, you didn't have enough of Sonnets that day? But of course I realized afterwards you mustn't have any appreciation for nuance, and rhythm, and metaphor. Your own composition was so appallingly blunt and crude. Heard back from your cousin yet, have you?"
Harry knew a certain satisfaction in drawling back, "Oh, Severus didn't mention? How remiss of him. Dudley's going to come here to live with us for a while."
That certainly wiped the mocking smile off Draco's face. "You're joking."
Harry beamed a smile of his own. "You think? Ask Severus."
"I doubt he'd want you calling him that," Draco sniped. "You haven't known him for ages, though from your behavior in class I'd certainly hazard a guess that you've hated him for what must seem that long."
Harry kept right on smiling, though it was making his face ache a bit. Actually, he ached all over, but he wasn't going to show a trace of it, not in front of someone he didn't trust. "You're really in your own little world down here, aren't you?" he echoed Malfoy's words from hospital. "I don't hate him at all."
He was expecting Draco to gnash his teeth, at least, but the other boy just shrugged a bit. "Well, you're wising up then. That's worth something. Hatred between allies is not exactly apropos, is it?" Draco drew his wand, which made Harry flinch, but all he did was hold it dangling from his hand, the tip pointed at the ground as he headed across the room toward a stone corridor. "Shall we resume?"
The hallway was short, and flanked at the end by doors on both sides. Draco flung them both open using his wand, giving a little flourish with his hand as he explained. "Now, this is Severus' private office. He doesn't keep it locked as you can see, and he doesn't seem to mind me coming in if he's in there, too, but I have it on good authority that I will die a messy, painful death if I step over that threshold when he's not within. I'd imagine the same applies to you." Draco turned and pointed at the other open door. "This one's his bedroom. We're not welcome in there at all. He's got his own bath in wizardspace tucked into that wall, there. Slytherin legend holds that it's fabulous, but of course it's probably not as nobody seems to ever have seen it." Draco smirked. "Besides, Severus just doesn't seem the type to lounge about in the tub, does he? I can't picture that."
Harry was having a hard time even listening to blather about it, but that was nothing to his irritation with the effortless way Malfoy seemed to swing between antagonism and casual ease. "Office, bedroom, living room," he grated. "Got it. Can we move on now, or do you have more commentary about the Professor's bathing habits?"
Draco strode back out into the living room. "There's no kitchen, because of course wizards have far better things to do than cook, Merlin forbid, but here is the fireplace where you can shout your requests over to the house elves. Take my advice though, and don't ask for anything in a BÈarnaise sauce. They simply have no notion how to get it right, though they do make a passable Hollandaise..."
"Do you have to try to be such a pretentious git, or does it come naturally?" Harry inquired.
"If you mean my aristocratic bearing and sense of culture," Draco smoothly replied, "it's a gift. Now, where was I? Oh, yes." He strode past the fireplace and waved a laconic arm toward a deep alcove containing a large round table surrounded by four wooden, straight backed chairs. "That's where we indulge ourselves with fine food and witty conversation three times a day." Moving slightly to the left, he indicated a closed door to the side of the alcove; this time he made no effort to open it. "Through there is Severus' private potions laboratory, and a couple of storerooms filled with the most delightful ingredients. Really interesting. He hasn't minded me poking about at all, but then, I've a great talent for brewing as you've no doubt noticed."
"Why does the Professor need a lab down here?"
Draco gave him what seemed to be a rather suspicious look. "Oh, I know you're a Gryffindor, but honestly, you can't be as innocent as all that, can you?" When Harry didn't respond, he shrugged and went on, "He was posing as a Death Eater, Potter. Now, what do you suppose they have their friendly neighborhood Potions Master do for them, hmm? He had to brew up all sorts of nasty stuff, things he couldn't let the children see, see?"
"But he let you?" Harry bit out.
"Gryffindor really is synonymous with imbecile, then," Draco scathed. "No, he didn't let me see! Severus has a brain, Potter! He knew what I was being groomed for; he was hardly going to let me watch as he adulterated the Dark Lord's poisons! I understand the principals involved in potion making, you know. Unlike that complete git he pretended to serve, I would have known why his potions didn't have quite the intended effect, time after time."
"So how do you know he was brewing anything at all, then?" Harry scathed.
"Oh, I used to hear my father talk." Draco suddenly drew in a sharp breath and brusquely announced, "Sorry, Potter, I wasn't meaning to mention him. Won't happen again. All right, what's next? Well, that's about it actually, except for our room."
"Our room," Harry echoed faintly, still thrown off balance by Draco's conciliatory comments the moment before.
"Of course," Draco smoothly informed him, all discomfort gone from his voice. "Just how much of his private space did you expect Severus to give up for us? Of course it's been my room for a few days now, so I'm contributing to your well-being too, you understand."
Harry certainly didn't like the idea of rooming with Draco, but was also uncomfortable at the idea of inconveniencing Snape. "The Professor had to change his quarters around?"
"Of course," Draco said again, "He'd hardly expect me... oh, or you either, I suppose, to sleep on a couch, Potter. Anyway, my room --oh, our room, right, that'll take some getting used to-- used to be Severus' private library, but he moved his books into his office. They wouldn't have fit, but he spent most of an hour spelling together the most amazing wizardspace, so that's all right, then. And he did a bit of rock magic to shift a storeroom so I could have a bit of a wash without pestering him. Anyway..." Draco led the way to a door right next to where he'd been leaning before the tour had started. "Voila."