Harry Potter 1. Draco at Home

The Hardships of Being Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters originally penned by J K Rawlings, don't even own the computer this is being typed on. But a girl can wish can't she?

Pairings: Not yet but will be Draco/Harry eventually

Warnings: Whiny Draco ahead, not to mention some probable OOC-ness to be had by all. But what can I say, first time Harry Potter writer.

Part 1

It wasn't easy being a Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy decided this one day while reclining on his bed, his homework spread out in front of him, not that he was actually doing said homework. No he was far to busy watching his familiar, a gray and black stripped cat with green eyes, savage his favorite, most expensive, green jumper.

Take for example said jumper, which was now in about ten different pieces, each one getting his cat Morgana's individual attention for about five seconds before she moved on to the next part. It really had been a wonderful jumper, the spells woven into the yarn were some of the most expensive ones you could buy. It had always looked new, never getting any of those annoying fuzzies that had a tendency to appear on other more inferior jumpers, and it actively repelled possible stains. Plus he never had to get rid of it for being outdated, it would mimic whatever the latest style was, and had been spelled specifically to grow with him, so it would have always fit him no matter what. But apparently not even the great expense paid or the spells cast could protect his favorite jumper from a bored, discontented Cat.

He supposed that he could blame the house elves for this. After all it was their fault in a round about way. Morgana had been given to him by his favorite teacher, Professor Snape, and if it weren't for that fact she would have been kibble for father's dogs a long time ago. She was kind-of a 'get well' present for the time that he had spent recovering from the lingering effects of being hexed on the train home after fourth year. By the time he was fully recovered, father had decided that she couldn't stay in the house, as a matter of fact she wasn't allowed inside at all. This had all come about because Morgana had seen and decided to make father's wand her plaything.

So from fending for herself in the wilds of the Malfoy back yard, she had learned a type of self-reliance, and even after being lured into a box and being transported to Hogwarts, she had preferred to roam the halls rather then spending time around him. Everything worked out though because they had come to a basic understanding, he didn't interfered with anything she was doing and she neglected to claw, bite or in general be nasty to him. It may not have been a relationship based on equality but it worked for them.

Draco supposed that Morgana knew that he was supposed to be her master, or rather he suspected that she thought of him as her human. After the end of the fifth year at school, Draco had quite forgotten to find Morgana for the trip home, but when he had woken from the resulting hexes on the train, she was sitting perched on his chest, glaring down at him. He had tried to push her off his chest, but the resulting hiss and swipe of claws across his face coupled with the weakness of his entire body convinced him that he could get along just fine with her there.

So now mother was insisting that Morgana stay inside over the summer hols, and on her orders the House Elves were doing everything they possibly could to make the stupid cat comfortable, anything the cat wanted they gave her. They also had decided that the wouldn't interfere in whatever she was getting into not that he blamed them, he had gotten clawed for his attempts in stopping her from destroying his stuff one too many times. That and she somehow managed to dodge spells flung at her with an uncanny ease.

So what was a board cat to do with her time when suddenly food was being brought to her, and there was a house full of things that her boy owned. Draco guessed that it was only logical that she savaged his favorite jumper, among other things.

Now if he took these bits of yarn that were laying all over his bedroom floor, and he took them to his mother, she would look at the bits sadly, before lamenting how much the jumper had cost. She would then proceed to give him 'the look' while he explained that it was the House elves fault, because mother couldn't believe that his sweet little kitty Morgana could do anything wrong, and he would then ask could he please get a new one. Then Narcissa Malfoy, socialite and best-dressed witch in her peer group, would frown thoughtfully before shaking her head and explaining that now with his father gone, they must make certain economies in their budgeting, and could Draco please take better care of his things. Then she would take the ruined bits from his hands and she would send them somewhere, and that would be the end of it.

She acted like father being in prison had completely dried up all the money associated with the Malfoy name, hardly! Draco could probably start spending money like a drunken gambler and by the end of his life not have spent it all. (Not like Draco expected to live past age 25 anyway.)

No he wasn't going to tell Mother about the ruined jumper. He really didn't want to hear that damn speech again. It was bad enough when he had shown her is newly ruined best dress robes, or his favorite dragon hide shoes, even his treasured book on nearly forgotten dark arts, compiled and signed by the Dark Lord Voldemort himself. Really if he heard that damn spiel one more time he was going to lose what little grip he had on his sanity and he would be damned if he was going to be held responsible for his actions!

Draco glared at the cat that was now contentedly cleaning her coat of the green fuzzies that it had collected during her exercises. Draco smirked now not only were the house elves going to have to clean this mess up, but they were also going to have to clean up green hairballs, and knowing his cat, they would be strategically placed in a variety of key walkways.

This thought cheered him slightly, but the fact that it was his jumper soon diminished that brief feeling of joy. He watched grumpily from his bed as Morgana ambled over to a clean patch of floor that the sun was shining on, before plopping down sleepily.

Stupid Cat!


	2. Draco at Diagon

The Hardships of Being Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters originally penned by J K Rawlings, don't even own the computer this is being typed on. But a girl can wish can't she?

Pairings: Not yet but will be Draco/Harry eventually

Warnings: Whiny Draco ahead, not to mention some probable OOC-ness to be had by all. But what can I say, first time Harry Potter writer.

Authors note: Oh my gosh! I just posted the first part no more then 3 hours ago and I already have one review!

Fenolen-Thank you for reading! I am trying to write more! Hope you continue reading!

Part 2

"Now Draco," Narcissa Malfoy said patronizingly to her son who looked like he was about to throw a fit. "You know Mummy's trying to conserve money while Daddy's away. I'm afraid that we just can't get you a new broom."

Draco closed his eyes and counted backwards from ten to calm himself. It just simply wouldn't do to embarrass himself by arguing with his mother in the middle of Diagon Alley. It wasn't like he was some sort of spoiled first year. No he was a spoiled sixth year and by god he needed a new broom!

"But Mother, I am the Slytherin team's seeker. I need a fast broom to catch the snitch," Draco explained patiently as though speaking to a child. "Unfortunately I no longer have my Nimbus broom, as sometime during the past few weeks, that damned cat, that you insisted be shut up in the house, found my broom and literally ripped out all of the bristles." Narcissa opened her mouth to say something, but Draco beat her to the punch. "And before you say anything about how I should take better care of my possessions, I will have you know that my broom was properly stored in the broom shed on the western corner of our property. It was on a specially designed shelf that was floating two and a half meters off the floor and charmed with a mobility spell I found in my favorite rare spell book, which, if you remember, was also later destroyed. The only way anyone could have gotten close to that shelf and consequently the broom on it would be if they knew the specific command to say and had me there to say it. Now let me also remind you that the entire summer, that spawn of satin cat, was locked up in the Manor, yet she still managed to get out, maul my broom, leave tufts of gray and black fur laying around, so I would know it was her that committed the crime, and then snuck back into the house. So therefore I need a new broom."

Draco looked at his mother expectantly, to anyone else this explanation would have been more then sufficient, and a new broom, even if it was the same model that he had before, would be purchased. Still this was his mother they were talking about, and he just knew that she was going to argue with him.

"I am sure that your father's old broom will work just fine, after all he rode it when he played for the House Quidditch team."

"Mum!" Draco nearly yelled, scandalized by the mere thought of being seen in public on his dad's old broom. He would never live the humiliation down, it was amazing that the ancient thing was still able to get off the ground, never mind flying anywhere with someone mounted on it. "That broom could be outclassed by the Cleansweeps that the school provides the first years to learn with! I may as well just quit the team as be seen on dad's or one of the school's brooms."

Narcissa looked coolly at her son's outraged expression and nearly flushed face, he was still trying valiantly to keep his temper in check. "Perhaps you should dear. Quit Quidditch that is," she said with a sad smile on her face, as she watched all color drain from her son's face. "I know that you love playing the game and all, but I want you to spend more time on your school work this year. After all, with the unfortunate occurrence that happened to your father," Narcissa trailed off briefly, looking sad and distant. Draco would have said something at this point if he had been able to overcome his shock. She wasn't supposed to agree with him on stuff like this. She was supposed to give in and go buy him a new broom! But to his horror he could only gape at his mother, his eyes fixed on her face. He actually thought that she might manage to squeeze a tear out for her absent husband, but failing that she continued on with her 'little talk' to her son. "Draco I am only thinking of what is best for you, I want you to be able to get a good job after you graduate."

Draco thought that he was going to have an aneurisms with how hard his head was throbbing, he had never wanted to strangle someone so badly in his life, not even Potter had ever warranted this much rage. But it wouldn't do to be seen strangling, hitting or otherwise, being mean to family members that had as of yet to be shunned or disowned. No he could control himself. He took a deep breath, clenched his fists at his side, and squared his shoulders, then he glared at his mother for all he was worth.

"Okay Mother," he said in a controlled voice, "please explain something to me. Why it is that suddenly the Malfoy family, who has more galleons in their Gringotts vault then the total number of red hairs on every Weasley currently living today put together." At the mention of one of his school nemesis' family Draco made a nauseated face, briefly loosing track of his thoughts before starting up again. "Now please tell me Mother dear, how is it that we are suddenly seemingly without a knut to our name, when it comes to basics like new cloths and a new broom for Quidditch?"

Narcissa Malfoy looked at her son, her face expressionless, as she began to speak. "I don't believe that we should be discussing this now, Draco. If you would still like to talk later at home we shall, but for now we will finish shopping for your School necessities and you will not say another word about it, or you will not be getting dinner for the next week." Narcissa turned and started walking towards Flourish and Blotts.

"I was just asking a simple question!" Draco fumed at his mother. "I'm an adult now and I deserve some explanations about what is going on!" To accentuate his words Draco stamped his foot on the ground hard enough to send jolts of pain up his leg, causing him to wince slightly, as he leaned over slightly to rub at his shin.

"Draco Malfoy!" Narcissa said spinning on her heals to face her son, almost sending him tumbling over in surprise. "I don't want to hear another word from you until we get home," she hissed at him angrily, her composure clearly gone. "I am going to go and purchase your books for school, I want you to stand right there while I am inside," she said as she pointed to the stone wall of the apothecary across the street from the bookstore. "And if I find that you have moved from that spot while I was gone, you will wish you were staying with your father, rather then at the manor by the end of the summer." Having said that she turned and marched inside Flourish and Blotts.

Draco scowled at his mother's back, then he scowled at the people passing him by with out even noticing him, and then he scowled at those who were glancing at him. Finally he hunched his shoulders and made his way over to 'his spot' on the apothecary wall. He grumpily threw himself against the wall, grimacing as his back met the stone, before sliding down to a sitting position with his knees pulled up to his chest.

He could see his mother through the large picture window of the store. She was standing next to Pansy Parkinson's mother, he could never remember the daft woman's name, something flowery he thought, like Daisy, Petunia, or maybe it was Tulip. His Mum was laughing at something that had been said. Draco sighed distractedly as he crossed his arms over his knees before resting his chin on his arms. Mum was being so mean to him, it wasn't like he had done anything wrong.

The bell above Flourish and Blotts door jingled merrily as another person entered the store, and for a moment Draco could clearly hear his mothers silvery laughter, which caused him to frown unhappily. His butt was going to fall asleep before she managed to pry herself away from the store, and it was all her fault.

Stupid Mother.


	3. Draco on Manipulation

The Hardships of Being Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters originally penned by J K Rawlings, don't even own the computer this is being typed on. But a girl can wish can't she?

Pairings: Not yet but will be Draco/Harry eventually

Warnings: Whiny Draco ahead, not to mention some probable OOC-ness to be had by all. But what can I say, first time Harry Potter writer.

Part 3

Draco Malfoy was hungry.

Not only was he hungry, but he was also annoyed. The house elves (all three of them) had been warned not to give him anything to eat outside of a set time for breakfast and lunch. Narcissa had sternly told them if he didn't eat then he wasn't to get anything. Hunger wasn't something Draco was used to dealing with. It was on the boarder line of cruel and unusual punishment as far as he was concerned. After all Draco never had eaten much at breakfast, he had a very delicate stomach after all, anything more then a slice or two of toast with jam and a cup of tea in the morning and he was ready to run to the bathroom and hurl. As for lunch, he had never really eaten that much then because he could and usually did snack without recourse throughout the day. Then he would have a good diner, and maybe a snack before bed, then the whole thing would begin again the next morning.

Now his mother was forcing him to go without diner, even worse without snacks also. She had even gotten the house elves to raid his private hoard of candy, and take it all away. He was almost tempted to give the little buggers cloths, and he would have followed through with it if he hadn't remembered the pain and hardship the family had gone through when they lost one of their elves around the end of Draco's second year. It had taken months for the other three elves to accustom themselves to the new additional duties that had been disbursed amongst them. Draco had feared he would be told he had to start picking up after himself! He still shudders at that particular fear, and was known to wake in a cold sweat, from nightmares of his father telling him to clean his room.

Well he would show her. He wouldn't complain about it at all, nope he could live without enough food for a little bit, after all he was a Malfoy and if nothing else they were survivors. Although usually it was at someone else's expense not their own. Yep he would show her that he could handle a little unjust punishment.

"But Mum, I'm starving!" Well okay maybe he couldn't make it the whole week, but he had made it a whole day and a half. That was about a day and a quarter more then he had ever expected he could go. "And there isn't all that much of me in the first place. Do you want me to go to school looking like a skeleton? And since I only have last year's cloths to wear I'll be a badly dressed skeleton at that. How can you be so cruel?" On one level he was thankful that at the vary least he hadn't hit his growth spurt yet, so his clothing still fit him, for the most part, in his opinion his hem lines were getting dangerously high, but maybe he could pass it off as a new style.

Narcissa rolled her eyes at Draco's wheedling tone. "Your punishment stands Draco, I wont have you disobeying me now that your father isn't around."

"But look at me," he cried out in near anguish, as he flung out his arms. Narcissa tilted her head slightly and gave him a hard look. "I'm a shadow of my former self! I'm wasting away to nothing! there wont be anything left of me to send back to Hogwarts at this rate!"

"Draco, quit being so melodramatic, you aren't good enough to be an actor, so try focusing on charms or transfiguration, even potion making. Don't waist excess energy on pointless pursuits." His mother sounded extremely board and slightly annoyed, not the best combination to try and convince her of the unjustness of his punishment. So instead he collapsed backwards onto the nearest settee, letting his legs stretch out along its length. "Shoes off the furniture darling, and next time sit properly or the furniture wont last for very much longer."

Draco scowled, but obeyed her, then chewed his lip briefly before speaking. "So Mother, you ignored my questions in Diagon Alley, will you answer them now?" He really tried not to sound to upset about how things were turning out, but he wasn't too sure if he was successful. "Why is everything lately boiling down to not having money that I know we have?"

Narcissa paled slightly and shifted nervously in her seat before speaking. "Darling you may not realize this but ever since your father was taken from us, I personally have been under watch by the Ministry and am being investigated to make sure that I am not also a follower of the Dark Lord. To this end they have frozen all accounts in our name. So until the Ministry is satisfied that I had nothing to do with the Dark Lord, I am afraid that all we have to live on is the contents of your fathers safe that he has in his study."

Draco's eyes got impossibly huge as he took in the words his mother spoke. Then in a small voice he said "They're not going to take you away from me, are they Mum?"

"Of course not Draco," She assured him. He looked so tiny, and frail sitting amongst the overstuffed pillows of the settee. "We just have to be very careful of who we associate with from now on. After all neither of us has ever been to one of those dreadful meetings, and as of now neither of us are ever going to. Draco do you understand what I am telling you?" Narcissa stood and went to sit next to her son. Slowly she wrapped an arm around his gently trembling shoulders. Draco pulled away from her slightly, but not enough to break contact.

"You mean we have to betray everything that we believe in, so we can keep what we have." He sounded as though the words were bitter as strychnine as he spat them from his mouth.

"No darling, I am not saying that we have to join Dumbledore's side, but we cannot be as open in our support of the Dark Lord. Try keeping to yourself, don't insult the mud-bloods, and whatever you do, don't get into any fights with those knowingly affiliated with the other side."

"But Mother!" Draco began, his mind awhirl with arguments, against his mother's plans.

"No buts young man, as long as you are still in school, under my care or living in this house, you will do as I say. And if I get one report that you have gone against me, you'll be wishing that the Ministry had taken me to prison with your father." Narcissa stood and held her hand out to her son, who just looked at her with big sad eyes. "You may not like it, but this is for your best my Darling. Now come on I think you have been punished enough for your transgressions, lets go to the kitchens and see if we can't find something for you to eat shall we?"

Draco gave his mother a blinding smile, he knew she was going to cave in on the food topic eventually. He stood slowly before taking his mother's hand in his, and allowing himself to be led towards the kitchen his stomach rumbled loudly, the sound bringing his mother's silvery laughter to float on the air. His mother would give in about the things she was saying here also, he was sure about it. All he had to do was play her game for a while then he could at least pretend he had given it his best shot then he would complain how unfair it all was, she would resend her decision and he would be one step closer to a position of power next to one of the most powerful wizards' alive.

Things would have been so much easier if those bumbling idiots at the Ministry hadn't captured his father in a rather compromising position. That and if they had just left it at putting him away. Really it was just bad manners to involve his mother in it all. Yep this mess was all the Ministries fault.

Stupid Ministry.


	4. Draco on Packing

The Hardships of Being Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters originally penned by J K Rawlings, don't even own the computer this is being typed on. But a girl can wish can't she?

Pairings: Not yet but will be Draco/Harry eventually

Warnings: Whiny Draco ahead, not to mention some probable OOC-ness to be had by all. But what can I say, first time Harry Potter writer.

Authors Note: Hey look! I have Two more Reviews!! Kisses to everyone who is reading, even if your not reviewing, thanks so much! And to those who are reviewing, just know if ya were here with me now, I would buy ya a pint of Guinness, (or your drink of choice).

Kneazles - It's good to be the Prince, they can make up their own rules

The Lady Wolfshead - You like me! You really, really like me! Well you like my story

at least. I will be working on the H/D parts just as soon as that Potter boy shows his face, I can't be certain but I think he is trying to avoid me by lurking around in his invisibility cloak.

And now, on to...

Part 4

Draco was done with his homework.

In all actuality he had finished it the day before he had confronted his mother about the unfairness of denying him food, and really he had only done it then to try and forget the grumbling's of his stomach. So now he really had nothing to do. He had slunk around the house for the past few days trying to plan out how he was going to tell everyone he knew in Slytherin that he, while not actually changing sides was not to be associating with them. That and he suddenly really wanted to see his bodyguards/goons Crabbe and Goyle.

Not that he had even actually made any effort to get together with them over this summer, but now that he was denied their companionship he really wanted them around, strike that ye wanted anyone else from Slytherin house around. Heck even seeing Pansy would be a pleasant change from these same four walls, his mother and the house elves.

He was both looking forward to and dreading the fact that tomorrow was the day to catch the train to Hogwarts. At least he was going to see people that he knew, but at the same time, how was he going to get around his mothers orders. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that she was just relying on any loyalty on his part to be honest in his dealings with her. She too had been in Slytherin, and would know better then that. No there would be spies of some sort keeping tabs on him. More then likely Snape, he had always had a soft spot for Narcissa, and she could be quite persuasive when she wanted to be. Besides who knew how seriously his Mum had taken this belief that maybe Lord Voldemort's side wasn't the right side. If she still truly though that Voldemort's side was the right side, she would have been careful sure, but not this all out paranoia that seemed to be the order of the day. For all he knew that nosy Dumbledore was going to be watching him as well.

He would have to pretend that he was following her dictates at least until the Christmas hols when he could convince her that she was wrong. After all she was going to have to cut herself off from all of her acquaintances as well, being that they were on the side of the Dark Lord, and she always adored going out to all of the parties that were thrown around that time. It was just a matter of playing a waiting game with her. Just as soon as this damn investigation with the Ministry was done, she would begin to calm down, then she would be more open to persuasion on this touchy subject.

All he had to do was wait. That and keep calm. He figured that if nothing else his grades would improve drastically this year, as he would have nothing better to do then study. If his grades didn't go up then something was defiantly wrong with him. After all there was to be no mudblood baiting, no Weasley bashing, no Potter taunting, and worst of all no quidditch. Mum had told him yesterday that a letter had already been sent to the school to inform them that Draco was not allowed to play quidditch at all this year. He didn't even have a broom to take with him this year, so he was grounded well and good.

Then to top it all of she even had him give up his position as a Prefect this year, which while irritating wasn't quite as bad as the whole quidditch thing, after all it wasn't like he could take points away from other houses this year. So that left his schedule open for studying, studying, and more studying. By God if nothing else he was going to oust Granger from her top spot in most of the classes.

So here he was now, trying to pack, but not really having the greatest of time doing so, everything he had to wear was just so, last year. How was he ever going to show himself in polite society with these miserable excuses for rags? He had no other cloths like his favorite jumper it had been a special birthday gift from a now long dead rich Great-Aunt on his fathers side, and rumor was that Draco had been her favorite in the entire family. Which is why she had apparently spent a good quarter of her fortune on having the one piece of clothing made especially for him.

He glared at his wardrobe willing for all of his old stuff to go up in flames like a Phoenix could and thus be reborn as the latest tailored to fit styles. Of course this didn't happen, but one could wish. Frustrated at the complete and utter hell that his life was becoming, Draco began tossing his clothing haphazardly into his trunk. He knew that he could just as well have a house elf do this for him, his mother had said as much when she popped her head in to remind him that tomorrow but that would mean that he would just be sitting around again, being board.

And a board Draco Malfoy was never a good Draco Malfoy. Because when he was board he would invariably wind up doing something that was stupid, and would get him into trouble, and right now that was the absolute last thing he needed.

He reached for another article of clothing, only to find there was nothing left in his wardrobe. He looked over at the mound of clothing in, on and around his trunk, before sighing tiredly and walking over to it. He plopped down in front of it and slowly began to precisely fold his clothing so that it wouldn't wrinkle while in transport to Hogwarts. Something he had learned to do at Hogwarts, simply out of necessity, the elves there were simply too incompetent to do anything right.

He may not be stylish this year, but he would be damned if he was going to look as rumpled and ill kept as Potter and Weasley always did. He could always pride himself on making sure he looked better then those two dolts. Then again when he thought about it Crabbe and Goyle dressed better then they did. Not that those two oafs couldn't have some of the most disgusting tastes when it came to colors, and coordinating them, lord knew how many times he had sent one or the other back upstairs to change because he had decided to wear his favorite shirt (Fuchsia in Crabbe's case and bright lime green in Goyle's) with an orange (Crabbe's) or lilac (Goyle's) tie.

Draco laughed softly remembering some of the other horrible color combinations that the two beefy boys came up with, as he finished folding the last of his cloths. Still smiling slightly he arranged everything in his trunk to his satisfaction before closing it and calling for a house elf to take it downstairs to the fireplace he would be using to get to the train station.

Draco frowned thoughtfully as the house elf left. He was really going to miss hanging around with his housemates. He didn't really like any of them, but you got used to people after a while if they were always with you. Crabbe, Zabini, Parkinson, Bulstrode, Goyle, none of them he really considered a bosom companions, but at the same time, they weren't the enemy and they all worked together for a common goal. Mainly the humiliation and/or down fall of the other houses.

Draco stood up suddenly feeling irritated by something he couldn't pinpoint. He walked to the window of his room, outside the sun was setting amidst a brilliant display of color, but he glared outside, seeing none of it. If he thought about everything from a different perspective, one could say that they were all more then acquaintances, one could almost say that they were friends. Draco smiled bitterly as a dry hoarse sounding laugh forced it's way out of his throat. 'Yeah right like you make friends in Slytherin,' he thought to himself.

His face shifted back to its usual scowl and Draco turned from the window, heading to his bed. Halfway there he stopped and turned his head to look out the window once more. This time he saw the beautiful streaks of color splashed across the sky, a small smile played at the corners of Draco's mouth. Ah well it didn't matter he could do with out them anyhow.

Stupid friends.


	5. Draco by the Train

The Hardships of Being Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters originally penned by J K Rawlings, don't even own the computer this is being typed on. But a girl can wish can't she?

Pairings: Not yet but will be Draco/Harry eventually

Warnings: Whiny Draco ahead, not to mention some probable OOC-ness to be had by all. But what can I say, first time Harry Potter writer.

Authors Notes: Ah joy, bliss, a review. Once again, kisses to all reading, drinks around for those who've reviewed. Not sure for how much longer I will be able to update on a daily basis, as of today I have up to part 7 written, all I have to do is type it up, now lets hope my creativity doesn't hit a stumbling block.

The Lady Wolfshead - Thank you. thank you. Your reviews mean more then you could know, ::sniffle:: I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

Part 5

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show his face."

Draco, who had been watching his mother leaving the platform, barely managed to slap a mask of indifference on his face before Blaise Zabini popped up in front of him. Draco scowled slightly, he actually had to look up to Zabini this year, how humiliating, and irritating. "We were about to start taking bets as to whether you were going to show up this year Malfoy," the swarthy boy said slugging him almost playfully on the arm,.

Draco was about to reply, by launch into his grand plan on how to tell the other Slytherins to bugger off for at least half the year, when the breath was knocked out of him by a very enthusiastic hug from Pansy, who much to his disgust appeared to be at least a centimeter taller then him. Not only were his arms now trapped by his side, but he was also in danger of passing out from lack of oxygen. Then, to make matters worse, she was pretending to cry her eyes out but was, in fact, just getting his shirt all drooly.

"Oh Draco," she sobbed melodramatically as his face began to change colors. "It's so horrible! What with everything going on with your father, I could understand if you had transferred to a new school! You know, so as not to have to be around those people responsible for his current housing. But to be so badly dressed! Oh the tortures you must be going through at home!"

Pansy sniffled loudly making people around her stop and take notice, that and making Draco think that on top of being asphyxiated he was going to throw up. She then arched slightly away from him so that she could find the perfect angle to wipe her face on his shirt. Thankfully in doing so Draco finally found he could move his arms enough to get some leverage between them, and shove the blubbering girl away. "Get away from me Parkinson!" he practically yelled when he finally had some oxygen in his lungs.

Her tears dried up in about three seconds as a wicked smirk played across her lips. "Aren't you a cute little thing when your upset?" she said sweetly, reaching out to mess his perfectly gelled hair, causing Draco to quickly step out of her reach. A host of smothered laughter sounded from behind her, as Draco crossed his arms over his chest and Glared at the whole lot of them.

'It's a good thing I'm not to be associating with them this year,' he thought as he took in how much every one _but him_ had grown over the summer. 'Otherwise I would have to do a lot of hard work to get the others not to look as tall, probably starting with kicking them in the shins, they wouldn't stand so straight then.' An evil smirk spread across Draco's face at his oh so pleasing thoughts of forcing the Slytherins of his year to stoop to his height.

"Uh-oh guys we had better watch out, looks like Draco's planning something," said Millicent, in a voice loaded with sarcasm, from where she was leaning up against a sturdy looking post. "We probably want to invest in protectors for our legs or something like that. You know just incase we're the ones he's thinking about."

Draco inwardly seethed at being found out, but managed not to show it and instead just said "As if Bulstrode." For some odd reason it always surprised him when the larger girl said something so intelligent, or intuitive. He really should remember that just because you look vaguely like Crabbe and Goyle, doesn't mean you are as thick headed. Heck not even Crabbe and Goyle were as thick as they acted, they just chose not to use their minds most of the time, and if they did use them it was so they didn't get held back.

"Look guys I have something important to say to you all. It is a plan of the utmost importance, and will involve you all integrally, if it is to be completed successfully." At this the five other Slytherins around him suddenly became all business like, plots were something they loved best. "There are some things I need to do this year. Plots to be played with intricate delicacy. Support systems to be crumbled. And people to fell, or knock off their pedestals." With every sentence, no every word, Draco spoke the sixth year Slytherin's malicious smiles grew bigger, and their eyes gleamed more fiercely with intent. "The only problem is, that none of the plans will work unless you lot pretend that I am no longer welcome."

Draco looked at the confused faces of his housemates, willing with all his might for one of them to jump to the conclusion he had been leading them to. He was just about to hint a little bit harder, he had obviously been too vague, when something seemed to click in Blaise's mind. "Your going after Potter, aren't you?" the boy said in complete mysticism. Draco had to stop himself from sighing in relief audibly. "You have to tell us what you have planned! We can help better if.."

"No, I've thought this through all summer," Draco interrupted hotly. "I will work best if you know nothing, but instead start by giving me the cold shoulder, with the possibility of a skirmish here and there. That way if something goes wrong you can't be implicated, and can continue on with out me."

"Draco," Crabbe said speaking up for the first time today. "You aren't stupid enough to involve yourself in a suicide mission. What are you talking so morbidly for?"

"Trust me when I say this, if this plan fails I may as well be dead. Far too much is riding on how well you guys can follow my instructions, everything has already been set in motion." Draco made sure to keep his face as serious as possible, now was not the time to jump up in the air and whoop for joy at the fact they were already playing his game, everything was going so well! Feeling smug he decided to put a little polish on his presentation. "The players are set, the audience is packed, but when the lights come up, are you going to play your parts?"

"Draco," Pansy whined, rubbing her forehead. "You know I hate it when you use those stupid analogies like that." She looked at Draco impishly before glancing at her fellow Slytherins. "Of course we'll do it Draco, I can't wait to see Harry Potter, groveling at your feet." She giggled slightly at the image her mind was showing her, and knowing Pansy, Draco didn't want to know what it looked like.

"So how long are we supposed to act like this?" Goyle asked getting in on the conversation, and proving that he was still keeping up.

"At least until the Christmas Hols."

"At least we don't have to treat you like slime inside the commons." Pansy said batting her eyes prettily at Draco.

"Stop flirting and use your brains Pansy," Millicent said smacking the other girl upside the head. "The six of us have practically grown up together, and we know each other's, shall we say, allegiance, but I wouldn't trust another person in our house to keep this a secret."

"We'll help you in anyway we can Draco, just contact one of us discreetly, and try to keep us updated on progress, I know," Blaise said holding up his hands in an almost defensive move. "No details, just say something like you're getting closer, or need help, something vague but yet telling. Don't worry about the rest of the house, they wont know anything, but unless I'm missing my mark, they will follow our lead in ignoring you. If you know what I mean." Ah Blaise, king of subtlety, bless him. "Come on guys lets go get on the train."

Draco watched as everyone but Pansy turned and sauntered to the waiting locomotive.

"There's something that I don't understand though Draco," she said looking slightly confused. For a moment he panicked internally hoping that Pansy's IQ hadn't gotten a growth spurt over the summer. "Why would your plan involve wearing last years styles?"

Draco gaped at her for a moment before he heard Blaise yell "Pansy! Get away from that traitor!" She jumped slightly winked at Draco and ran to catch up with the group. Apparently they were starting already.

"This just might be easier then I thought." Draco muttered aloud to himself. He stood staring at the train in amazement for a few moments until a magically projected voice called out over the platform that the train would be leaving shortly. That was when Draco realized he hadn't quite thought everything through.

How was he going to get his cat and trunk onboard all by himself? In the past he had always had Crabbe or Goyle do it, but now... Draco absently kicked his trunk hoping that it would grow legs and walk onboard, but as with most things he wished for lately, it didn't come to be.

Sighing heavily he picked up Morgana's carrier and balanced it carefully on the trunk, then he pulled out his wand, and in a precise voice intoned _"Wingardium Leviosa" _then watched patiently while his trunk lifted off the ground. He levitated it to a little above his waist, then proceeded to push it forward with his left hand while still maintaining the spell. It took a lot of concentration, and was a little exhausting, but it was still better then trying to carry the thing the old fashioned way.

Thankfully he made it on the train with no mishaps, as Morgana slept through the whole thing. He doubted that his cat had enough faith in his skills to actually sit still while he was levitating everything, which would have caused him to lose his concentration and drop everything. On the down side he was now forced to try and find a seat, somewhere on the train. Ideally he wanted to be alone, but barring a miracle, he was probably going to be forced to sit with someone annoying. He couldn't sit with anyone of his own house, and he steadfastly refused to sit with any Gryffindors. Unfortunately after searching well over three quarters of the train, the only available seat was with a group of three gossiping fourth year Hufflepuff girls.

Amazingly enough they shut up after only a few moments of intense glares from him. They instead settled on passing scrolls back and forth and hastily scratching messages to each other with battered looking quills. Then they started bursting into giggling fits every few minutes. Settling back into his seat Draco pulled out his potions textbook, intent on getting a head start in his favorite class.

Draco winced in annoyance as another round of shrill laughter reverberated through the small compartment. He savagely fought the urge to slam his head into his book, which, if he went though with it, would hopefully cause him to loose consciousness. He had to fight himself even harder to deny the urge to get up and pound the brains out of the girls, not that there would be much to come out. No matter how he looked at it, this was going to be a long, long train ride.

Stupid Hufflepuffs.


	6. Draco by Himself

The Hardships of Being Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters originally penned by J K Rawlings, don't even own the computer this is being typed on. But a girl can wish can't she?

Pairings: Not yet but will be Draco/Harry eventually

Warnings: Whiny Draco ahead, not to mention some probable OOC-ness to be had by all. But what can I say, first time Harry Potter writer.

Authors note: This is it, the first chapter that Harry Potter appears in! Somebody brake out the party favors! Also, I am quite sorry that the rating keeps going up, but I find that Draco gets umm, Quite interesting in the choices of expletives he uses when he gets stressed or really pissed, and no we haven't really seen either of those yet.

The Lady Wolfshead - Now, now, what you picture when you think of Harry, groveling at Malfoy's feet, can't be any worse (or it is that better?) then what I see, we will have to assume then that Pansy's image was more along the 'crushing enemies under my boot heel in a non-sexual way' type of thing, and had nothing to do with what you or I might think up. Thanks!

Part 6

Draco Malfoy was positive that everyone in the Great Hall was talking about him.

Upon arriving at Hogwarts, he had hidden out in the boy's lavatory, waiting until the sorting had taken place before making his entrance. He had debated while hiding, what type of entrance would work best. He could throw the doors of the great hall open and storm in, all the while glaring at the people who would be looking at him out of curiosity, as he strode to his table. Unfortunately that would send the wrong type of message to his mother, he wanted whoever was spying on him to send back reports that seem to say, 'He's doing his best to follow your instructions, and not make a target of himself.' Besides Draco just new that he would be garnering too much attention with this one to work with his plan.

Another option was to crack open the doors a little, slink in quietly and go to sit at the house table meekly, with his shoulders hunched forward, as if he were curling in on himself. Draco had been disgusted at the very idea of this entrance, and immediately dismissed it as a no go. He wanted his mother to think he was obeying, not a broken shell. Oh well there was nothing to do then but something mid way between the two ideas. He wouldn't intentionally draw notice, nor would he go out of his way to avoid it.

Having made his decision, Draco left the lavatory and stood outside the doors to the great hall, listening intently to the muffled sound of Dumbledore's voice, waiting for the feast to begin. He waited a few moments longer after the Headmaster's voice couldn't be heard to softly push open the doors and walk proudly to sit at his house table, neither looking right nor left, but focusing on the spot where he was going to be sitting. That in it-self was a stroke of brilliance. Draco had gown up knowing his own importance, and one of the first basic rules he had learned as a boy was you never sat with your back to a room, and Draco had taken that lesson to heart. The only exception he made was in Professor Snape's classroom, but he knew that Snape would never allow anyone to hurt his favorite student, so he felt safe there.

Now he was deliberately sitting in a place he should never be sitting, with his back to a room full of people, most of whom didn't like him. Obstinately he filled his plate with food that he merely pushed around on his plate, his stomach rolling far too much to even contemplate eating.

And they were talking about him, how he wasn't sitting near any of his 'friends', how he was as far away from everyone as one could get while still sitting at his house table. In his head he could just hear those Hufflepuffs he had sat with on the train gleefully retelling the tail of the ride here.

As a matter of fact there was a subdued whispering going on all over the great hall, and while he couldn't make out what was being said, it had to be about him. Who else could it be? Draco was quite happy that he had chosen this spot to sit in, if he had sat on the other side of the table, he would have had to actually see all of the faces staring at him in curiosity, and while that wasn't a bad thing, after a few moments he would have been hard pressed not to stand and start hitting people with curses, hexes, or insults for not knowing when to look away.

He wanted so badly to know what was being said! The curiosity was practically eating him alive, and he couldn't ask anyone at his table. Draco glanced down the table at his housemates, it would be pointless to try and eavesdrop here, and no one ever accidentally overheard something from a Slytherin. Key word being accidental. But the Hufflepuff table was right behind him, maybe if he sat really far back in his seat, leaned back a little and listened really hard...

"Yeah, I hear that he didn't even sit with them on the train," said a nameless male Hufflepuff. Then again Draco didn't think it would be worthwhile to even know a Hufflepuff's name.

"I don't believe it!" replied a girl who sounded outraged. "Where did he sit? Did he say anything to the people he sat with about it?"

Mentally Draco was doing a little happy dance. Oh, to have everyone notice how strangely he was acting already, and to have them take such interest. It was more then he had hopped for.

"No he never said a thing, I talked to one of the Ravenclaw's that was sitting in the same compartment, and she said that all he did was sit there reading his Charms book."

Draco rolled his eyes at this, apparently the story was taking on a life of it's own already. Reading a charms book, him, As if! But one should have known that Hufflepuffs would have screwed up the story. Even though it happened to people in their own house, probably just down the table.

"Something terrible must have happened to him over the summer hols. Poor Harry, sitting all alone at the end of his table, I wonder what is going through his mind?"

Draco smirked to himself happily. Of course everyone wanted to know what was going... through...his...

Suddenly a certain word they said hit him, they were talking about Potter! Slowly Draco turned in his seat and looked at the other tables. No one, not a single fucking person, was paying any attention to him. Their glances were all reserved for a lone figure at one end of the Gryffindor table.

A person who sat as far away from the rest of his housemates as possible, while still sitting a the same table. Someone who had their back to the rest of the great hall. Someone who was pushing the food around on his plate, as though he couldn't eat because of the rolling of his stomach. Draco turned back around in his seat, and sat staring at his plate for a few moments fighting for control of himself.

He couldn't upend the Slytherin table in a fit of rage, couldn't yell at everyone to pay attention to him, not that fucking scar-head. Couldn't throw his table knife at Potter's back, hoping to do serious damage. He couldn't even angrily storm out of the hall, because that would not be productive to cultivating the image he wanted, whomever it was spying on him, to report back to his mother.

If nothing else, then at the end of this phase his mother was going through, he had better get some sort of reward for his fucking restraint. After all, that fucking bastard Potter had upstaged him, again! Draco gritted his teeth and seethed inwardly, all the while maintaining a clam exterior.

Stupid Potter!


	7. Draco in Motion

The Hardships of Being Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters originally penned by J K Rawlings, don't even own the computer this is being typed on. But a girl can wish can't she?

Pairings: Not yet but will be Draco/Harry eventually

Warnings: Whiny Draco ahead, not to mention some probable OOC-ness to be had by all. But what can I say, first time Harry Potter writer.

Authors note: Yes I know I built up the fact that Potter was in this last chapter, and then nothing, not even a very good description of how Draco sees him, just a little blurb at the end saying look here he is! And I almost feel kinda bad for it, but not really. Logic had dictated to me that a spoiled, whiny, pissed off Draco wouldn't have looked at Harry and thought 'Gosh Harry looks (insert descriptive term here) today.' Props to those that can make something like that work, but I couldn't. Anyway more info on Harry coming up and he might even say something to Draco in today's chapter!

esrinthly - Thanks so much for the review! Hope that you continue enjoying! Sorry about the dramatics in this part, but had to slip them in somewhere.

The Lady Wolfshead - Now, now, I don't expect you to tell me you love it every time you review, just the fact that you review tells me you're enjoying it, (or in other words, you don't have to say loved it every time. Just keep reviewing. PLEASE, keep reviewing!) besides I have absolutely no clue as to how long this is going to be. Heck I didn't even realize that Ron was going to show up this time until -Poof- there he was.

Oh and by the way, Weasley shows up and Hermione gets a mention, at the rate I am going I might actually have her show up in this fic, I wasn't planning on it, but I might. By the way I think I can still get away with PG-13 for this, but I am not sure. What do you think? Anyone?

Part 7

Draco's first two weeks back at Hogwarts were Hell.

Not only were his housemates ignoring him, but so was everyone else in the school. The only people who even talked to Draco were the teachers and that was just asking questions pertaining to class, or making idle comments about the quality of his homework that had been handed in. It was really starting to annoy him.

No, that isn't quite accurate, he was really pissed off. He was being so good, following his mother's dictates not to offend anyone on either side, and keeping to himself. As of yet he had not bullied any of the younger years, had tried not to even notice if he was in the presence of a mudblood, He hadn't even talked to anyone in his age group since the day at the platform. He was even being good in his classes. Not one disparaging comment had been made from his corner about the half giant's lamentable teaching skills, or penchant for putting young students with potentially lethal creatures. Not once did he make a wise crack about having something silver on his person in the werewolf's class, who had come back to teach them more about DADA, or cracks about it getting close to 'that time of the month'.

He hadn't verbalized an insult in so long that he was beginning to worry about how much this was going to dull his considerable skills. In fact he was starting to worry that maybe he would get so rusty he would sound like Potter used to when he would try to defend himself from Draco's razor tongue with a less then decent comeback. He shuddered to think of it as a real possibility.

For fuck's sake, he hadn't even snorted condescendingly in a Weasley's direction, any Weasley's direction, and no one noticed or seem to care. Draco was ready to chuck this stupid plan in the trash and go back to being his old self, his mother's wishes be damned, but that would involve telling the other Slytherin's that he had failed. Even worse, he would have to tell them that the plan he had talked up so much on the platform, he didn't even get started on, because he couldn't handle it. The mere thought of the humiliation that would cause was reason enough for Draco to force himself on with it.

It didn't help that his housemates were better at pretending Draco was now an outcast then even he had hoped for, and it was really starting to bother him. When he walked into the Slytherin's common an icy silence washed over the room and he was stared at until he was safely behind his year's dormitory door. Then even in this room Draco was treated with a type of callousness usually reserved for possible deserters or traitors. They had yet to actually hurt him physically, but Draco could feel the intent and knew that it was just a matter of time.

The worst part was that Draco had asked them to do it, and he realized that now. To make the other Slytherins accept that Draco was not welcome, was in fact an outsider now, they would have to get more vicious with every prank or stunt pulled. So far his cloths had been thrown onto the front lawn while Draco was showering, his bed was permanently short sheeted, and all of his hair care products had been replaced with various bodily fluids. The blood in the Shampoo bottle had been unexpected, the urine was a little easier to spot, just by the smell coming off his conditioner bottle, but the one that had impressed him, had been the new Twenty-four ounce bottle of spray gel that had been replaced by saliva, disgusting yes, but none the less impressive. On the down side Draco was no longer able to wear his hair like he always had, and was forced to put up with it loose and flopping into his face.

Draco hoped that he would be able to call this whole thing off before the time his dorm mates got to the potentially lethal 'pranks' to be pulled. Strike that he had better be able to call this off before they got to that point. Otherwise his mother would be lamenting a husband in prison and a child under the ground.

Thankfully the pranks were restricted to just in house things and had yet to spill over into classes. Draco however wasn't taking any chances. In every class he took he procured a seat either behind everyone else's, or one that had at least one open space between himself and his classmates. All in all his classes weren't all that bad, save for one, potions.

After being his favorite class, hands down, since first year Draco was shocked to find that Professor Snape had replaced him as the favorite. Which wouldn't have been so bad, it was actually understandable with the way he was acting, but to have Pansy take his place was utterly and completely degrading. Anyone, and this was in the strictest sense of the word, anyone would have been better then Pansy, she was absolute crap when it came to potion making, and now to hear Snape practically fall all over himself to compliment her on the slightest thing she had done right (example: 'You measured that pint of frogs blood for you potion's base very well Miss Parkinson.') was like a knife being plunged into his body.

And still no one had said anything to Draco on his particular behavior, but Draco knew why this was. It was all the fault of that attention robbing, muggle loving, scar-head Harry - fucking - Potter. As much as he was loathed to admit it Potter was the only other person in this School who commanded more attention then Draco himself. To make matters worse, apparently the 'savior of the wizarding world' was playing the same game he was, and unfortunately Draco knew that the only way to turn heads away from the illustrious Potter, one had to be louder, brighter, and so annoying to others that they couldn't help but look your way.

Draco couldn't forget the first time that one of his year mates noticed him, or more precisely spoken to him. He was walking down the hallway to get to his last class of the day, Charms, when someone knocked him down, scattering his supplies. Thinking that it was probably one of the people from his house Draco almost yelled at them, as he had shoved his tangled blond locks out of his face, but was quite glad he had restrained himself. For there in front of him was Harry Potter, looking quite pale and while he appeared thinner then last he had last year, he seemed more, what was the word, toned, then before. His hair was hanging lifelessly, it was twice the length that Draco remembered from last year, but on the up side it looked clean, and he couldn't smell Potter from here so he was probably still showering. A vaguely concerned expression was on the boy who lived's drawn face, and Draco could swear that scar-head could carry all of his books in the bags under those green eyes. All in all Potter looked much worse then he did.

A smirk threatened to overcome Draco's face as he sat there on the ground staring up at his arch nemesis, who was holding out his hand in an offer to help Draco stand. For his part, Draco wondered if it would be feasible to slap that hand away, and still be in character, probably not. Draco 'calmly' gathered his parchments and books and stood on his own, ignoring the boy in front of him, or at least trying to ignore him, and biting his tongue so as not to say anything he might regret.

"Are you okay Malfoy?" He heard the boy who should have died ask.

Draco closed his eyes, gathered his wits, shoved his hair which had fallen forward back out of his face and finally managed to grit out through his teeth "Sorry for bumping into you Potter," before moving to walk on to class. He didn't get very far because Potter had grabbed the sleeve of his robe.

Draco glared at the offending hand touching his cloths, and was about to demand to be let go, turning his head to look _up_ at Potter. 'Bastard,' Draco thought bitterly noticing that the other boy was a few centimeters taller then himself. Then Potter spoke to him again. "No Malfoy, are _you_ okay?" As if it was supposed to make perfect sense now that he said it for a second time.

Briskly he pulled his sleeve from Potter's grasp and stepped away from him. "I'm fine Potter, no harm no foul, now if you will excuse me I have to get to class." Then proceeded to walk the rest of the way to the charms door, his body trembling the entire way from suppressing the urges he had to go back and slam Potter's head into a wall, to yell and scream and hit, and maybe to hex into oblivion, but he was quite proud of the fact that he didn't do any of these things.

Looking back down the hall before entering the room Draco was surprised to see that Potter was still standing where he left him. For the first time in along while, Draco actually felt that things might turn out like he had planned. Once again he found himself fighting a smirk that was threatening to take over his face.

It was later that Evening when Draco was having his usual after dinner walk around the castle, in an effort to avoid going back to the Slytherin dorms, that he was cornered by Ron Weasley. The redheaded git loomed over him, and then shoved him back into the wall. Draco pushed away from it and instinctively reached into his robe pocket to get out his wand and hex Weasley into next week, but when all he found was lint, he knew he was in deep shit.

He remembered briefly Pansy sideling up to him after Charms class and asking him how the plan was going. He of course told her to get the hell away from him, and if he needed anything _he_ would ask. She had then merely smirked nastily and wandered away from him nonchalantly, and Draco had gone on his merry little way.

Draco couldn't believe that he was so out of practice in underhanded dealings that he hadn't realized the bitch had stolen his wand. He was going to kill her. As Draco was pushed roughly against the wall again, he realized that Weasley had asked him a question and apparently didn't like the fact that he had to now repeat himself. Oh yes Draco was going to kill Pansy, but that was only if this brutish Gryffindor didn't kill him first.

"What did do, or say to Harry, you little prat!" Weasley spat in Draco's face. Draco growled quietly in his throat, he was really going to have to do something about these growth issues he was having. Either that or start cutting peoples feet off, and maybe parts of their calves depending on how tall they were.

Draco gasped in surprise as Weasley lifted him by the front of his robes and slammed him back against the wall. "Get talking you bastard! Or I will make sure you don't get out of Hospital for quite some time."

"I haven't said anything to Potter this year," Draco said in an attempt at sounding calm, while trying to draw in some of the air that had been forced out of his lungs when he had hit the wall. He didn't think he was doing that badly since he also had to stop his legs from flailing about uselessly, and at the time multi tasking seemed an awfully hard concept.

"Don't lie to me." Weasley said shaking Draco whose hands had grabbed on to the arms holding him up in an attempt to get them to put him down. "I saw you talking to him outside Charms class, and Harry's been even more withdrawn since. Now what did you do?"

At this point, Draco quite happily broke one of his cardinal rules for living under the plan, and kicked the lanky redhead in the stomach as hard as he could. Both boys dropped to the ground, Draco's already sore rump met the cold hard stone floors of Hogwarts for the second time that day, but oh that had felt so good! Wincing he scooted back towards the wall and away from Weasley, who was curled up protecting his stomach, but it was a little late to be doing that.

Suddenly one of Weasley freckled hands shot out and grabbed Draco by the ankle, then yanked. Draco fell back, and cracked his head on the wall, crying out in pain. The blow muddled Draco's response time and prevented him from defending himself against the resulting punches that Ron landed on the Slytherins torso. He tried to curl into a protective ball but the larger Gryffindor forced him onto his stomach and yanked his arms behind his back, as he sat on Draco. "I'm only going to ask you one more time, Malfoy," Weasley hissed into Draco's ear. "What did you do or say to Harry."

Draco squirmed a bit trying to get away, but the muscles in his shoulders were screaming in pain, then he gritted out through clenched teeth, "I told you, nothing! He asked me if I was ok and I told him to fuck off, just like I am telling you. So Fuck Off Weasley!"

The larger boy abruptly stood, releasing Draco, and snorted down at the Slytherin who was curling into a ball on the ground. "You know Hermione had theorized that you had changed which is why you were not associating with any of the others losers in your house, but I know better then that, Malfoy. You will always be the stupid, prat son of a Deatheater."

Weasley made a move as if to kick Draco again, but then stopped as the boy on the floor winced. "You listen to me Malfoy, stay away from Harry, unless you want more of the same." And with that he turned and stalked down the hallway.

Draco remained motionless until his attacker had vanished from sight, then he tried moving. He groaned quietly, as muscles he didn't even know he had in places that had never hurt before, began complaining all at once. At least he now knew that someone was noticing him. He made to move his hair out of his face but stopped halfway though the motion hissing at the flares of pain in his shoulder. Oh he was so going to kill Pansy for this one.

Stupid Weasley!


	8. Draco in Dispair

The Hardships of Being Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters originally penned by J K Rawlings, don't even own the computer this is being typed on. But a girl can wish can't she?

Pairings: Not yet but will be Draco/Potter eventually

Warnings: Whiny Draco ahead, not to mention some probable OOC-ness to be had by all. But what can I say, first time Harry Potter writer.

Authors Note: Sorry for the delay in getting this posted, unfortunately you probably wouldn't believe the stuff I had to go through just to get it written, Thankfully the third draft made it to the posting stage, and is as you see now. As always thanks to all for reading! Also, there are two lines taken directly from the first book, and combined together. Just want to see if anyone can spot it. Good luck hunting!

Crazy (in my head) - Sarcastic? Me? Ok, I can accept that. Thank you, for the review, and I hate to say this but the O.W.L.s never really entered my head, I had completely spaced them off. But it is still early in the story, I think, and I can read up on them, and fit that in there somehow.

The Lady Wolfshead - Slacking? I think not, no more then I have been at least. Damn life for throwing such distractions our way! Truthfully I was sure that I was going to have to defend the way I wrote Ron to people, on account that we aren't seeing things from the HP perspective, but so far so good! And I agree all five seconds of Potter's and Draco's interaction was interesting. At the rate I am going maybe soon I will be able to devote an entire Part to the two of them. At least that is what I am working towards. But not yet. Dammit.

Louisa - Thank you! Hope that you enjoy this part!

Part 8

Draco Malfoy was a wreck.

It was the day of Halloween, and things were not going well at all, although he did realize things could be going worse. Ever since what Draco had come to regard as 'The Weasley Incident' happened, and also what happened after, Draco had begun to find things rapidly spiraling away from him, not that he had a handle on things since the start. He now, upon reflection, realized that he should have gone straight to the infirmary after Ron had beat him up. Sure Madam Pomfrey, would have asked questions, and of course there was the whole thing he had against visiting the infirmary before Potter had even visited it. He wasn't sure where it had come from, but somewhere over the past few years Draco had decided upon a rule that out of the two of them, he wouldn't be the first one to go to see Madam Pomfrey per year.

So instead he had gone to see his head of house Professor Snape, who was at rest in his private quarters. Draco had figured it would be the best solution, while there he could rat on Weasley to someone he trusted, bitch about what Pansy had done, and get a potion for the pains he was experiencing. But unfortunately Snape had been, shall we say, less then helpful. He had indeed allowed Draco to vent about Weasley and Pansy and had even given him a minor healing potion to take away the appearance of the bruises blossoming over Draco's pale body, but it unfortunately left the tenderness, aches and pain to heal naturally. Throughout it all the professor's expression had not flickered from its normal display of mild annoyance.

Draco had just finished his tale of woe concerning his run in with Weasley, and was about to launch into a brief synopsis of what was going on with his dorm mates, when Snape held up a hand and stopped him.

"While I am sympathetic to your plight Mister Malfoy," the potion's professor began in his usual condescending monotone. "You must realize in your shunning of Slytherin House, you have shunned all possibility of receiving any help from me. Also I most assuredly will not listen to anymore of your inane ramblings"

Draco sputtered for a moment, in shock over what had been said. Snape, unfairly biased in favor of his own house, Snape, was not going to help Draco. He had just handed the potions master a bit of information on Ron Weasley that could get the boy, at the very least, in detentions for the next month, and the information was apparently not going to be used.

"Surly you were prepared for this Mister Malfoy, when you told of your plan to the rest of your year mates, that to make it look convincing, you would have to be despised by the entirety of Slytherin house." Draco could only stare in shock as Snape guided him to the door. "Mister Zabini informed me of the plan you had imparted to him on the platform, and while I wish you luck, you are completely on your own. I have helped you as much if not more then I should have. Goodbye Mister Malfoy." With that Draco was shoved unceremoniously out the door, which was firmly closed after him.

Draco leaned heavily on the door for a few moments despondently pushing his hair out of his face as the realization sunk in that he was truly alone this year. It had never occurred to him that Snape would no longer be on his side, even when he had been replaced as teachers pet in potions class. He had always imagined his favorite professor would be there for him, now he knew differently, and Draco was scared. He had nothing to fall back on in case things in the Slytherin dorms got out of hand. He couldn't go to any of the other teachers, none of them truly cared about anyone in his house. Dumbledore might have been an option if Draco was really switching sides, but he didn't want to, and even if he was desperate he didn't think he could bring himself to talk to that muggle-loving old fool.

He pushed away from his head of house's door and walked to the Slytherin commons, careful to keep to the shadows as much as possible until he was in his dorm. Thankfully the room was empty, his roommates apparently still entertaining themselves with the rest of the house.

He walked over to his trunk intent on changing into his nightclothes and getting to bed, but found that his clothing was missing from it. Instead there was a polite note saying that the rest of his year mates had decided that his clothing was in need of cleaning and could be found in the boys lavatory. Draco groaned tiredly he was to exhausted to deal with this, but he also knew that it was something that the sooner he did, the better it would be.

However first he needed to rest for a moment and so thinking he dropped down onto his bed, wincing as his head struck something hard and solid. Since his dorm mates had begun playing their tricks, Draco had never just done something without his mind fully noticing everything around him, and with few exceptions like loosing his wand earlier, and washing his hair with blood this ability had served him well. Looking down at his pillow as he sat up he could see nothing that would have hurt him, and logically it couldn't have been something under the pillow, as his head met the object before it met the pillow. He ran his hand across the surface, skimming along the white cotton casing, until his hand ran into something that wasn't there. Carefully he ran his hand around the unseen object and found it to be a rectangular box. He prodded it gently seeing if it was attached to anything before slowly picking it up. He figured if the thing was going to hurt him, there was nothing he could do about it, being as he no longer had his wand.

Draco briefly considered what he was going to do about getting his wand back, Pansy could always deny having it, and he had no proof as to her actually taking it. He wondered if lost wands were a planned for occurrence in Hogwarts and how they might go about locating it. As he thought Draco traced the outside of the box absently, it rather felt like it was made of some sort of cloth, or rather that it was covered in some sort of cloth. Draco smirked as he came to the realization that it wasn't and invisible object, rather it was a box covered in a bit of invisibility cloth.

Technically it was the same stuff invisibility cloaks were made from, only it wasn't as hard to find, much smaller, slightly less expensive, and infinitely less useful. Draco had heard of people trying to make a cloak out of collected bits of cloth, but for some odd reason sewing the bits together had the same effect as looking at a broken or warped mirror, and while the contents under the cloak was not seen, it was painfully obvious that something weird was in the area. So while the cloths were of no real use for hiding a human, they could still unerringly hide a smaller object depending on the size of the cloth of course.

Draco finally found an opening in the cloth and gently pried the stuff from the box, some genius had used spell-o-tape to hold it on. Then when the box was free, and in a move that had the look of an obsessive-compulsive disorder, he set the box down and carefully folded the cloth up before putting it in the pocket of his robe. Having finished with that he picked up the box and studied it, there was nothing special about it, it was approximately 15 cm long by 4 cm tall and 4 cm wide. Made of what looked to be oak with a very cheep finish on it, and no carvings, or designs on the outside. there was however a keyhole Draco glanced around the bed, wondering if maybe the key had fallen out when he unwrapped the box. Finding nothing he went back to examining the oaken box. He shook the box gently and heard the unmistakable sound of something metallic rattling around, maybe it was the key to the box that was inside.

Draco opened it, and found not only the key, but also inside was his wand and a note. He removed all three objects and pocketed his wand. The note had been folded up as much as possible, so it took a moment before he could really look at it, and even longer before he could process what it said.

Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words:

_Just in Case_

Maybe someone was looking out for him, but if that were the case who? Pansy had taken the wand, but it wasn't her handwriting. In fact he sincerely doubted that anyone in Slytherin had given him these, for clearly he wasn't meant to give the box, or the cloth back. But who? In fact why would anyone try and help him in any way? It completely baffled him.

Draco retrieved his clothing from the boy's lavatory later that night, after he was sure that the rest of the house had gone to bed. He was thankful that there wasn't much of anything in his stomach, because unfortunately when they said in the lavatory they really meant in the toilets. The toilets that were still being used, despite the fact that they really couldn't be flushed. Needless to say he was very glad that he remembered a cleansing charm from back in fifth grade. Other wise he would have been unable to get them back into his trunk, let alone out of the toilets. As it was his stomach was revolting at every step of the process.

Draco's feelings of anger changed to a quiet type of acceptance, as he realized that there was next to nothing he could do, save for ignoring the whole of his house and trying to not let it get to him. He had written to his mother giving a horrendous version of events, but only got in reply how proud Narcissa was of her boy and if he could just continue on for a bit longer, then everything should go back to normal, and that she would inform him of when that would be. She also wrote as a post script that she would be away for the next few months and that unfortunately there was no where he could go for Christmas, so he was just going to have to stay at school.

Draco was also becoming slightly paranoid. He spent hours in the library, often times missing dinner so that he could research different types of protective wards, and locking charms that were resistant to the Alohomora spell. Then he would practice them in an abandoned classroom that he had found on a walk. By second week of October his bed and trunk were some of the better-protected places in the Slytherin dungeons.

He also found it next to impossible to eat anywhere around his housemates, and there for only went to get food early in the morning, before any self respecting Slytherin would be seen outside their pajamas. Because of his stomach he still only had the one or two pieces of toast, but he would also steal a few apples or oranges to eat later in the day.

Draco knew that he really couldn't afford to lose that much more weight, as it was his clothing was hanging dangerously off of his thin frame. The only thing was, that he couldn't figure out how to get more food, without being in danger of having to face his housemates. He could have picked up something in Hogsmead, but unbeknownst to him, his mother had canceled his permission to go there. Technically he could take more things with him from breakfast, but he so hated crumbly food, he didn't want to dirty his robes from things in his pockets, and only took what could be easily concealed in his robes.

Strangely enough around mid October he came down to breakfast as per normal, and sat down to eat his toast when a snowy owl flew in and settled in front of Draco, a note for him in it's beak. He took the note and watched as the bird ruffled it's feathers a bit and looked at him expectantly. He picked two saucers off the table and put some water in one and a few bits of bacon in the other before placing them in front of the bird. "Sorry I don't have anything else to give you," he said watching the bird carefully, as it drank some of the water and pecked at the bacon half heartedly, before flying up and out of the windows.

The handwriting was again not one that he knew, it was a narrow messy sort of scrawl, and the note itself was fairly short. It said:

_It is not good for you to be eating so little._

_You need to keep your strength up._

The rest was directions on how to get to and enter the kitchens. As with the last strange note he had gotten, this one was unsigned, and really baffling. But that night Draco found himself following the directions to the Fruit portrait and though he felt like a complete prat doing it, he tickled the pear. The doorway was revealed and Draco almost stumbled over his own feet in his haste to get to the wonderful smells that greeted him.

Within moments he was surrounded by house elves asking what they could do for him, and he managed to get out that he would like something to eat. After getting his food he was directed to a table near the fire, so he could sit and eat. He watched the elves running around franticly as he ate, it seemed there was always something that had to be done that very minute. there were however two elves not joining in. One was sitting by the fire with a bottle of butter beer clenched in it's little hands, hiccupping dejectedly every few minutes, a quite mournful look on its face as it stared into the flames. The other seemed to be shifting nervously under what appeared to be hundreds of badly knitted, there were no other words for them, things, and was looking straight at Draco.

He managed a half smile for the frightened little house elf, before looking back down at his plate. Every time Draco finished something on his plate an elf would stop what it was doing to come over and offer something else for him to eat, or drink. Throughout the entire time he was in the kitchen he felt the oddly dressed elf's eyes upon him, and it was with great relief that he finally left, to go to his dorm room to sleep. Sadly enough the strange quirks of the elves were still preferable to spending time around his housemates.

Then there were the problems of his classes. Draco never volunteered information in class, but his homework was always 'practically perfect in every way.' He really wasn't surprised to find that his teachers didn't seem to notice him anymore, rarely ever calling on him or singling him out for any sort of reason. The only exception was Snape, who seemed to be treating him as if he was in the same category as the Gryffindors. But Draco supposed it could have been worse, he could have to put up with more then just the Mud-blood and Scar-head in his class, thank god Weasley had not been intelligent enough to get a good grade on his Potion's O.W.L.S. otherwise he might have to put up with him also. He still wasn't sure how Potter had managed it.

But at least he only had one more day until the weekend, and fortunately tonight everyone was going to be at the Halloween feast so he would have the entire library to himself. Draco was practically in a good mood, as far as they went with Draco, that is, as he entered into potions class. All of his Slytherin year mates were already seated, as were the few foolish gluttons for punishments that hailed from other houses. Draco looked around the only open seats were right next to Potter, or at a table all by himself. 'Oh big decision there,' he thought as he dropped into a seat at the empty table.

No more then ten seconds later the door flew open and in swept Professor Snape, who was already halfway into his first explanation as to what they were doing today. The vast majority of the class could never seem to understand Snape when he was doing his Sweeping to the front of the room speeches, but Draco had spent many a year practicing and learning slight mannerisms and speech patterns, and had gotten very good at deciphering what the teacher was actually saying. Which is why he was the only one in the class opening his book to page 492 and glancing over the second potion listed on the page, the Converto-Lingua potion which was supposed to make the listener hear any language spoken in their native tongue.

"Now then class," Snape sneered at everyone but the Slytherins. "Today we are doing a very difficult potion that is going to require the efforts of two people working on it." He watched as his students started to rise in a sort of fruit basket upset, before he called their attention back to him. "I have decided to save time, you will be working with whomever is sitting next to you. If no one is sitting next to you, then you will move over to sit next to the only other someone who is alone, this means you Mister Potter. Get your things and move over."

The entire class turned to watch as Potter stood and walked over to sit next to Draco. "I'm glad you all find our resident celebrity to be fascinating, but to properly brew this potion you need to listen to me very carefully. You will come up and gather the ingredients that you will require for this, and brew the base of the potion. I have no doubt even Mister Longbottom, were he still in this class, would have no problem brewing it. After letting is simmer over a medium flame for three minutes you will add the dried Golden Eardrop's petals, at a rate of one per two clockwise stirs. One stir should be timed at one second for a complete rotation. Immediately after adding every third petal you should add one Cimicifuga leaf and quickly begin to stir counter clockwise for ten strokes, at the rate of one stroke per two seconds. Then you will go back to adding the Golden Eardrops petals. After the required amount of both ingredients have been added you will need to carefully add a quartz crystal to the brew and let it settle to the bottom of the cauldron before adding the final ingredient of finely chopped Fagopyrum make sure that the roots, stem and leaves of this are all added at separate times."

The entire class looked in horror at their teacher, he couldn't be serious. "Also your ingredients should be based in proportion to the weight of your Quartz stone, you will find a formula in your books for figuring out the needed volume of the base, the amounts of petals and leaves, and of course how many Fagopyrum plants you will need. One person should make the potion base while the other figures out the amounts and weights needed. After both are done, you can use the other cauldron at the table to hold the excess base, most of you will be needing it. If you should mess up on the first attempt, make sure that you have kept the left over base on a low flame, and stir it once every five minutes, otherwise you will have to start all over from the beginning."

Snape smiled in an almost happy looking manner. "Now all that remains to be said is don't kill yourselves. I will be making rounds periodically to make sure you aren't doing something too lethal. You have until the end of the class period to make this. Begin"

Potter stood and went to get all of the needed ingredients while Draco got everything set up back at the table. While Draco calculated the necessary ingredients Potter made the potion base. Amazingly enough the two boys worked well together, and very few words were actually said. Out of the entire class they were the only ones who weren't working on their second batch of Base. In fact they were the only ones who completed the potion at all during the class.

Draco had just finished bottling up two vials of the potion, when a brightly colored pink ball, about the size of a Knut, few from the front of the class and landed with a plop into the slightly bubbling cauldron. Draco looked at the cauldron stupidly for a moment as the potion changed from the brilliant blood red it had been to an iridescent blue, and father to an opaque gray, before Potter noticed what was happening and yanked Draco down with him to get under the table. A few moments later the cauldron exploded fortunately it didn't have much of a radius, but what it lacked there it made up for in power.

The cauldron was flattened completely, its sides split open so that it could lay perfectly flat. Large clumps of gray ooze splattered down to the table and floor from where it clung precariously to the ceiling. The explosion only had a range of about fourteen centimeters on either side of the table and up so amazingly enough no one had gotten hurt, and Draco still clutched the vials of completed potion in his hands. Still Snape did not look pleased when he crouched down and glared at the two boys still hiding under the table. "I realize that you may not know this, seeing as you are both still cowering under your table," he began in an almost calm voice. "But there is a hole in my ceiling right now as big as a bludger, thanks to your carelessness. Do you know what this means?"

Snape paused looking from one shocked boy to the other. "This means that both of you have detention, tonight, with Filch. Report to him at six o'clock sharp. Class dismissed."

Draco scowled as he carefully crawled out from under the table, making sure to avoid the goop, and picked up his books from the floor before standing. Thankfully he and Potter had moved everything not essential to the making of the potion to the floor. And tonight was to have been the night when he compared the differences between a protection spell for something living and something inanimate. Oh well he guessed he could do that tomorrow night. He dropped off the vials he had made at Snape's desk before heading off to at least find the books he would need for his research.

Stupid detentions.


	9. Draco of Detentions

The Hardships of Being Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters originally penned by J K Rawlings, don't even own the computer this is being typed on. But a girl can wish can't she?

Pairings: Not yet but will be Draco/Potter eventually (getting closer!)

Warnings: Whiny Draco ahead, not to mention some probable OOC-ness to be had by all. But what can I say, first time Harry Potter writer.

Authors Note: First things first, sorry to have taken so very long to update, life reared it's ugly head and giggled at my attempts to move on in spite of everything. Something I forgot to add last time around, A big thanks goes to my roommate, friend, and resident bio-chemist, J-Lo. For it was she who helped me sort out the whole bit on making the potion. That and had a hand in picking out the ingredients. Thanks Hon! Ok, sorry to all those out there looking for more comedy but don't worry we will be getting back to it all, in good time, just have to clear the air of some of this depressing angsty stuff. That and I need to snap Draco out of his set little mind frame. Shouldn't take that much longer though. Cheers to all who have read and a special thanks to those that reviewed!

Gilaine - Thank ya kindly! Though I know that the premise is nothing new, I am glad that people are enjoying it nonetheless.

The Lady Wolfshead - You were right, in part, you just had convinced yourself other wise, my dear. Just in case - it is the contents of the letter Harry receives with his Invisibility Cloak after it was forgotten in the tower during that 'Norbert gets away, and oops we just got caught' bit. The second part was just before it. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words: This part is from When Harry had fist received his Cloak and is the description of the note found with it. So being as they were such obscure lines, I think you really did quite well! Also I agree, Draco needs some lovin'.

nightwing - Thank You! I shall valiantly continue onwards! For I too am hoping for some answers on what Harry is about. (Unfortunately the only person in this story I am sure of is Draco, everyone else just kind of has a 'do as you will' policy.)

Shinku - Ah, I do apologize! My language can be a bit, strange at times, I am trying not to sound too odd though. It is just a problem I have when writing. I am glad however that you are enjoying the fic! Hope it continues to keep you interested!

So in this part, we have one chapter almost entirely devoted to Draco and Harry, (Almost) but there will be appearances (brief or otherwise) by the following. Filch, Hermione, and even Dumbledore might pop in for a moment! (Maybe more!) Also, what was that pink thing that was tossed into the Cauldron to make it explode? You'll find out here!

And now, Finally,

Part 9

Something was bothering Draco.

Actually something had been bothering Draco for a while now. Ever since leaving potions class it had been nagging at him. As he gathered books for his comparative research on Protection spells and charms, it was floating at the back of his mind. How was such a controlled reaction from the potion achieved?

Make no mistake about it, the explosion had been very carefully planned. The only person who could have gotten hurt from the explosion was Draco, Potter had been moving his equipment back to his own table when that strange pink ball had landed in the potion. The radius of the blast was so minimal as to suggest that someone who knew what they were doing was responsible, but no one in Slytherin appeared smart enough to get that type of reaction, besides they would have wanted to catch Potter in the blast as well. On the other hand, no one knew what potion they would be working on today, but Snape probably informed the other Slytherins about it, so they could get a jump-start on reading up on it. However the sheer amount of research and study time involved in something like that would have put a Slytherin off immediately. Still there was the possibility.

Hypothetically it could have been a Ravenclaw, but those bookworms were not known for their sense of humour, nor for their desire for revenge. Still odder things had been known to happen. He didn't even consider anyone Hufflepuff worth his time to consider, which left Gryffindor. There was one person in Gryffindor that he could see doing something like that.

"Malfoy." Draco's head snapped up and through his bangs he saw Hermione Granger walking towards him. She glanced around quickly making sure that no one could see them. Draco rolled his eyes, due to the feast aside from Madam Prince they were the only other two people amongst the dusty tomes of the library.

"Granger." He replied, as he gathered the few books he had found and carried them to a little used table near the back of the library. He had actually only found three books that looked like they would be of any use to him. They were 'Spells for Protecting Yourself From...' 'Wards and When to Use Them' and of course the classic 'What's Mine is Mine, What's Yours is Yours, and How to Keep it That Way.' He set the books down, knowing that they would still be there come tomorrow when he could get back to them, and shoved his hair out of his face. He would probably be able to find better books tomorrow also. Right now however he wanted to make a hasty retreat before that filthy Mudblood got it into her head to have a conversation with him.

He turned and started to walk past her, making sure to no longer acknowledge her. "Malfoy, wait," she said as he passed, stilling him by grabbing his arm. Draco scowled darkly as he looked down at the offending hand. What was with these damned Gryffindors and being so touchy feely? At least he could understand Weasley's motivation, but this was just getting old.

He yanked his arm out of her grasp before saying coldly, "I have a detention to get to."

"Please," she said, her voice sounded almost pleading, "just listen to me for a moment."

Draco made a big show of looking at a clock before saying clearly, "you have one minute." Then crossed his arms over his chest and continued to watch the clock, pointedly ignoring her.

"First I wanted to say how sorry I am for what Ron did, I was absolutely furious when he told me last Sunday," She circled around to see Draco's face and tried to gauge his reactions, while he practiced his little used 'bored as hell' expression. "Harry overheard what Ron said and was also quite upset, although he didn't say anything to either of us," at this her eyes became extremely shiny and she began blinking rapidly as she averted her face. In a cracking voice she continued, "Harry hasn't said more then a few words to Ron and I since the summer hols, you have no idea how hard it has been on us all."

"Time's up, I have to go," he said disgusted at how emotional she was being, must be some sort of hormonal imbalance. Or as Draco liked to phrase it 'that time of the month.'

Granger moved quicker then Draco would have given her credit for, and she proved to be quite a deterrent from leaving the library as she blocked the doorway, and pointed her wand in his face in a quite threatening manner. Where was the librarian when he needed her, or a teacher, or Filch, or even his fleabag of a cat, Mrs. Norris? Why did they never show up when one of the Gryffindors were breaking rules? At least she wasn't taller then he was, he grinned slightly at that fact. Before having the grin wiped off by an evil scowl from Granger.

"Listen you insufferable little prick! Something is wrong with Harry and he isn't willing to talk with any of his friends or with the teachers about it. But for some unknown reason he feels like he can talk to you. That conversation you had with him in the hallway, it was the first time Harry has voluntarily spoken with anyone in months. I thought that maybe since you seemed to be having similar problems, that you could maybe help him while you helped yourself, but I underestimated how much of a complete git you are!" Her hand trembled slightly as she seemed to lose what little control on her anger she had. "Sometimes I wish I could just... If it wouldn't get me expelled I would so love to... How could Harry even think..."

With that she shoved her wand back in her pocket and stormed off in what appeared to be some sort of righteous fury, muttering what sounded like a grievance for the end of all stupid men. Draco trembled slightly as he collapsed against one of the bookcases close to him. A hormonal Mudblood was defiantly scarier then a furious Weasley. How he had managed to not break down and plead for his life was a huge mystery. Taking a deep breath Draco looked at the clock on the wall. Shit, he was going to be late for his detention with Filch!

Mysteries were going to have to wait. He took off out of the library at a dead run, knowing that there was a possible second detention in his future if he was more then two minutes late. Anything less then that could be explained away as the result of a moving staircase. He could only hope that he wouldn't actually get caught on one. On the up side if he did get another detention it would be blissfully Potter-free.

Draco made it to the ground floor of the castle and was heading towards Filch's office when a gentle hand on his shoulder effectively stopped him. "Ah Mr. Malfoy, just the person I was looking for."

Draco, who had only just managed to keep from making an undignified noise at being stopped so suddenly, could only stair blankly at his Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, as the wizened old man smiled down at him. Draco was thrown for a loop, the headmaster hardly ever sought out someone personally. Usually notes were issued if he wanted to see you saying when to meet him, and then usually it was never good news. At least it never was good when a Slytherin went to see him, usually it was something about a family member no longer being around. Draco felt a knot form in his stomach. This didn't bode well.

"I was wondering if you would mind coming with me to my office, Mr. Malfoy?" The old man said his smile somehow getting brighter after he had spoken. He gestured in the direction that Draco had just come from.

His office?! Draco was really panicking internally now, usually such meetings were held with the Head of house in their office. Dumbledore turned him carefully and began guiding Draco towards said office with a gently pushing hand placed between his shoulder blades. This was defiantly going to be bad. Draco didn't actually know what was going to be said, but he defiantly didn't want to hear it.

Besides what if one of his housemates saw him with Dumbledore? Oh Shit! They would think he was a turncoat! Especially if it got out that he went to the Headmaster's office! If he thought things were bad in his dorm now, that would be nothing if they were suddenly really out for his blood! He had to get away from Dumbledore, quick. "I... I... Have a detention to get to sir." He said, hating how weak he sounded.

"Ah yes your detention with Mr. Filch," Dumbledore said cheerily, not even pausing in guiding Draco. "Not to worry, this wont take long, and I will explain everything to Argus."

Uneasily, Draco resigned himself to whatever forms of torture his housemates would put him through, it was not like he could run from the headmaster, there was no place he could go. He was so dead.

Dumbledore stopped in front of a gargoyle and said something, which made the thing jump aside showing a doorway. Normally Draco would have committed the password to memory, but he actually hadn't even realized that he was now on a moving staircase, which stopped in front of another doorway. He was softly pushed inside and guided to a chair in front of a large desk filled with all sorts of intriguing artifacts. Unfortunately Draco was far to preoccupied imagining way that he was going to meet his now inevitable demise, to see them, or even to sit down.

"Mr. Malfoy, you appear rather distracted, can I get you something?" Draco focused on the old man as he seated himself behind the desk.

"I'm sorry sir, I was just worried about my detention. I was hoping that the sooner I got there the sooner it would be over," he said thinking quickly.

"Ah yes, your detention, not to worry. I am sure Mr. Filch will quite understand as to why you were late. Please sit down Mr. Malfoy." Draco nodded and did as he was asked. "If I remember correctly, you are going to be sharing your detention tonight with Harry Potter, is that correct Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco bristled quietly, what was with the never-ending concern everyone seemed to have for perfect Potter? "Yes Sir," he said tightly, not even bothering to hide his annoyance. Here he had been worried that this was going to be one of those by the way your mother just died, and with your father in jail, your going to have to go and live with some distant relatives, things. Instead it was another, Harry Potter thing. Draco ground his teeth together holding back the angry and bitter words that were rising like bile in his throat.

"It has been brought to my attention that the two of you have not been engaged in your usual antics this year, dare I say it, but it has been reported that you are even close to almost being friendly." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily at the word 'friends,' and Draco fought the urge to scream.

"We're not actively trying to kill each other, if that is what you mean, Sir."

"Good, good, I think that having you for a friend will do a world of good for Mr. Potter, it is a wonderful thing to see that the two of you have given up such childish squabbles. I was quite certain that you would both spend your lives basing your friends on silly childhood misunderstandings." Dumbledore smiled brightly, clearly ignoring the hostility that Draco was openly showing more clearly then a movie theatre projection. Dumbledore stood and shuffled through some bags and papers in a drawer for a moment. "Now I will write a note for you, and you can move along to your detention. Oh, I almost forgot, would you like a gumball?"

A brown paper bag was dropped onto the desk in front of Draco, tipping over and sending an array of multi coloured balls rolling. One fell off the desk and came to a stop at Draco's foot. It looked exactly the same as the ball that was thrown into his cauldron to cause the explosion. "What did you say this was?"

Dumbledore looked up from what he was writing. "It is a muggle candy, not unlike Drooble's best blowing Gum, only not magically enhanced. It is not something I normally would have but Professor Snape gave them to me, I believe that he said he confiscated them from Hermione Granger, I just haven't gotten around to returning them yet. I don't believe that she'll miss one"

Draco hadn't thought that his anger could get much worse, not only was everyone on about talking to him about Harry Potter, Weasley and Granger were both threatening him, but also Granger was actively trying to kill him. Draco slipped the little ball into his pocket as Dumbledore handed him the note. "Have fun in detention tonight Draco, and remember what I said, a world of good will come of Harry having you for a friend." The old man guided the scowling boy to the door and gave him instructions as to where he would find Filch to begin his Detention, and sent him on his way.

Filch was, predictably, highly irritated that Draco was late, though with the note there was nothing to be done about it. He confiscated Draco's wand to make sure that tonight's work would be done without magic, and to 'make sure you little brats don't hex yourselves to oblivion, not that I would mind.' As he distinctly put it.

The detention was to clean a room per Dumbledore's instructions. Draco scoffed, how bad could it be? Dust some shelves, sweep some floors, shove Potter's head into a wall, clean up the blood afterwards, how hard is that? His scowl remained firmly in place even after being shown the room. Because there was Potter. He was struggling with a rolled up rug at least twice as long as he was tall. Aside from a few other rugs the room was piled with furniture of all description. Chairs, sofa's, desks, and other things were literally everywhere.

"Everything not broken, ripped, stained, or otherwise rendered useless, goes in one corner, everything else goes in the box near the door." Filch said pointing to said box. It hardly looked bigger then the trunk that he used to hold his cloths. "Don't worry if something looks to big, just set it on top of the box, and it'll get sucked inside, to some sort of furniture limbo. Unfortunately it only will suck up inanimate objects, so don't even try shovin' Potter in. Since both of you are having a joint detention, we're trying out a new moniterin' system. If it is found that one of you is slakin' off, you'll get another detention tomorrow. I've given him the same warnings. I expect the walls to be scrubbed, the floor to be polished, and all the useable furniture, and rugs to be set up in an orderly manner. The door wont open until everything is done, if you have to use the bathroom, there is one behind the door on the far wall, which also should be cleaned before you leave." And with that Filch left the boys to their task, and went to patrol the halls for students that were breaking rules.

Draco glared at Potter for a good five minutes as he continued to struggle with the large rug, trying to get it to the 'keeping' corner. If it weren't for the threat of getting another detention he would have made Potter do everything. Damn that stupid Filch had thought out this detention far to well. No wands. No way out. No way to force one person to do all the work. And he was supposed to be working with Potter. Life sucked so badly.

Draco walked over and grabbed the opposite end of the rug and shoved hard, practically knocking Potter off his feet. It was vaguely satisfying. Once out of the way Draco dropped the rug and went to the pile and began sorting though it. As before, when they were working on the potion together, Draco and Potter worked quietly and efficiently, and for the most part separately. It was only when moving a heavier piece of furniture that they would help the other out, Draco was constantly entertaining thoughts of throwing a heavy something at Potter, or shoving the piece of furniture in his arms on top of Potter's head, then when he fell over jumping up and down on him.

No words were spoken for the sorting and moving period of the punishment. All in all, of the unbroken pieces of furniture, there were four desks complete with matching straight-backed chairs, a sofa, three cushy armchairs (with tons of fluffy pillows) and a variety of different sized rugs. Thankfully the sofa, pillows, and armchairs all had working spells on them that repelled dust and creature infestations, otherwise they might have never finished cleaning the furniture.

Finally, when they were beginning to scrub the walls, Potter spoke. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Draco gritted his teeth and applied more pressure to his scrubbing. He could feel Potter's eyes on him, following his every move. Strangely enough it was almost comforting in a way. "What do you mean?" he said in a rough voice, refusing to look at the other boy for fear he would do something he would really regret.

"Do you want to talk about it? You know, whatever is bothering you?" Draco Felt rather then heard Potter inch closer, and the way he had said that was that concern?

Draco swallowed down his angry retort, he was getting good at that, and tightened his grip on his scrub brush, wishing that it was Potter's throat his hand was squeezing. "There's nothing to talk about, Potter." He was quite proud of how calm his voice sounded.

"Come off it, Malfoy," the other boy said putting an extra emphasis on his last name. Potter rested his shoulder against the wall next to the circle Draco was continually making with his brush. The blond coolly ignored the other, as the dark haired boy looked from the wall where Draco was scrubbing to run over Draco's tense body and then back to the wall. "You know if you grip the brush much harder it might splinter." Potter said gently covering Draco's hands with one of his own.

"Fuck, Potter!" Draco yelled yanking his hands away from Potter and flinging the brush away, all traces of his composure gone. "What the Hell is up with everyone? Haven't you, or any of your Shit-head friends, ever heard of Fucking, personal space?" He stepped forward till there was only a decametre between them. He slightly tilted his head upwards to look Potter in the face, his voice taking on a mocking tone. "Anyway there is nothing wrong with me, you dumb Bastard, cause if there was something wrong, then one of the asshole teachers at this, fine facility, would have fucking said something! Wouldn't they?" Draco put his hand on his chest in dramatic sarcasm. "I mean Harry Fucking Potter the Boy Who Fucking Lived, has a slight problem, and suddenly it is all anybody can talk about!"

Draco leaned slightly closer getting a great deal of satisfaction as Potter stepped back. Damn but this felt good! "Suddenly everyone is all concerned about Potter! It is all I ever hear about anymore! Potter this and Harry that, it's fucking worse then all the other years you've been here put together!" With that he shoved the shocked boy hard, and caused him to fall backwards to land awkwardly on one of the rolled up rugs.

He walked to stand next to the other boys reclining form and crouched next to him. "You know Potter," he said in a fairly level tone. "Now that I think of it, maybe it's you who wants to talk about what's 'bugging' them." He looked carefully at Harry's face, noting how pale he was save for twin splotches of red on his cheeks, denoting that the other boy was getting upset. "Too bad Potter, I don't want to talk to you, nor do I want to listen to you. Go find someone who cares."

Draco stood up straight and started to walk to where his scrub brush lay across the room, "For you that should be fairly easy to find, I imagine that here you could talk to anyone else and find that they care." He stooped and picked up the brush before saying in a 'sarcastic as hell ' voice. "Or better yet, why don't you go and start crying in the middle of the great hall during breakfast? That will get you tons of attention!"

Draco looked over at the Boy Who Was Now Standing, his hands were clenched tightly and he was staring at the floor. "It's not like I want the attention, Malfoy! I am not trying for it, I just want to be normal!"

"Normal?" Draco scoffed, "Everything you do each year is designed to make you stand out, and all you want to be is normal? You're going to have to try harder then that!"

"You think I plan things out to get all this attention?" Potter said looking up sharply, a mixture of Shock and anger on his face. "What kind of sick person would I be, to plan the things I have been forced to go through, just to get attention?"

Draco flushed angrily and started speaking before he could stop himself, "You'd be like me Potter! I need the attention! I want the attention! I have to have it to validate my existence! My mum sent me here this year to blend in, not stand out in anyway, and I've done everything I could think of to subtly draw attention to myself, but the more I tried the more people ignored me and paid attention to you, who was acting the exact same way! Do you realize the hell I am going through in my dorms? I..." Draco cut himself off as he realized what he was saying, he swallowed nervously and tried to cover his slip as well as he possibly could. "Oh piss off Potter!" He was obviously loosing it, big time.

Flustered he turned his back on his nemesis and rubbed his face with his hands, oh this was going to be such a long night. "Do me a favour Potter, I know I shouldn't be asking this but just forget about what I said, ok? You conveniently forget what I said and I will conveniently be inspired to finish cleaning the room all by myself while you lounge on the sofa. Sound good?"

The pause while Potter was thinking seemed to stretch out forever. "It might work, if there weren't that detection spell spying on us to see if someone does an unfair amount of work."

Draco's shoulders sagged, "I was hoping that you would forget about that."

"I tell you what Draco, I'll never mention this little talk we had, if you apologize for calling me names, and promise to honour a debt when I ask for it."

"You want an apology and a Favour? That's kind of steep."

"I could always tell Madam Pomfrey that you told me you didn't think you could validate your existence anymore. Sounds awful close to a consideration of suicide." Potter looked slyly over to where Draco stood staring at him, a smirk spreading over the Boy Who Lived's face.

"Alright you bastard, I apologize for anything I have said that would offend your delicate sensibilities, and I will Honour a favour. And take that stupid look off your face, you can't do an evil smirk to save your life."

"The favour will be a specified one Draco, I will tell you specifically that I am calling it in. And I want you to swear that you will honour it." Potter said, crossing his arms over his chest and adopting a 'no nonsense' look.

Draco took a deep breath, bit at his lower lip for a moment before rolling his eyes and nodding. "You have my word as a wizard, I will Honour the asked for favour, when you specifically ask for it."

Potter held out his hand to the other boy. A smile gracing his lips, that was a more familiar look for Harry Potter, Draco thought as he shook his head ruefully before grabbing the other boy's hand for a quick shake.

"Now let's get this room finished, I famished since I missed dinner." Harry said, glancing around the room. Draco scoffed at him pretending that he hadn't missed dinner also. It would have worked too, except that his stomach chose that exact moment to let out a very loud and undignified gurgle.

Stupid stomach.


	10. Draco of Denial

The Hardships of Being Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: Not a chance in heck that they belong to me, but they do play a part in my dreams, so at least they visit.

Pairings: Draco/Potter eventually

Warnings: Whiny self absorbed Draco ahead, (I'm hoping that the clue bus smacks him soon.) not to mention OOC-ness to be had by all.

Authors Note: It has been a while hasn't it? Thank you to all of my reviewers! Unfortunately I am never near a computer long enough to get you all written down! Sorry! Just know I love you all, and hope you continue to enjoy it!

Part 10

Draco was in Hell.

This time he knew that there was nothing worse in the world that could happen to him. From here on out it was all up hill. It had to be. Not only did he 'owe' Potter a debt, but the mudblood was always frowning thoughtfully in his direction with a queer look in her eyes, and the weasel constantly glared at him in the halls. Also one of his housemates had defiantly seen him walking with Dumbledore in the purported direction of the Headmaster's office. He was such a dead man.

Then their was that whole bit that had happened last night in the Kitchens, seriously if Potter hadn't already creeped him out with that 'thing' in detention, Draco would be running for the hills by now. Regardless it was now just one of those strange things that made his life less then bearable.

After their little conversation in detention Draco had glared daggers at Potter, well glared as well as possible when his face was stained red in embarrassment because of his overly talkative tummy. Surprisingly once they got back to work he found the rest of the cleaning and arranging of the room to practically fly past.

In fact they were released from the spelled room relatively quickly, thought it still wasn't quick enough for Draco's taste. Once out of the room the famished Slytherin had turned on his heal and promptly walked away from Potter, and coincidently in the direction of the kitchens. Potter, however wasn't ready to let him get away if the sound of the annoying Gryffindor jogging to catch up to him was any hint.

"Hey Draco!"

"What do you want Potter?" The blond said with a sneer, not even bothering to slow or glance over at the other boy.

"Are you going to the kitchen to get something to eat?"

Draco almost faltered in his steps, but managed to keep moving in an almost smooth step. "What are you blathering on about Potter?" He said his voice only betraying a little surprise. "I wouldn't be caught dead in a kitchen. Only house elves and servants belong in there."

"Really?"

Draco sped up his pace slightly to get away from Potter. That tone of voice just didn't sound right coming from Scarhead's mouth.

"You do realize that I have been going to the kitchens for food for almost a month, don't you Draco?"

Draco stopped short in the hallway, he could feel Potter stopped maybe a half a foot away. He pushed an errant lock of hair out of his face and decided to bluff for all he was worth. "How would I know something like that Potter?"

Draco's eyes widened to almost comical size and his back straightened as if someone had replaced his spine for a steel pipe as he felt Potter rest a hand on his left shoulder. Then to make things worse the idiot Gryffindor started speaking gently into his right ear.

"_It is not good for you to be eating so little._

_You need to keep your strength up."_

Draco pulled away in outrage and confusion, spinning around to demand an explanation of how Potter could possibly know what was on the note that he was given.

Before he could speak however Potter made another comment. "Hedwig was quite disappointed that you didn't try skritching the side of her head or that spot on her back in between her wings."

"You've been spying on me?" Draco said, his feelings at war within himself. One part was jumping up and down excitedly, crying out 'someone cares!' Another bitch slapped the happy part and said 'are you stupid! This is our worst enemy! Oh gods! We have a stalker!' Then their was the rational side of Draco's mind 'this is what we have been working for. This was the beginning of getting things back to normal.' Then there was another part skulking unhappily over in a corner, rocking back and forth manically, and muttering something over and over again. It almost sounded like 'stupid git, can't see what's right in front of our face, bugger doesn't deserve help.'

"Not really spying," Potter said flushing guiltily and looking at the floor. "It is easier to watch Ron, cause I have more of an excuse to be around him. It's just so I can make sure..."

Potter's voice had progressively gotten quieter, until Draco could barely hear him, but he had heard more then enough.

"Are you trying to protect me from your friends, Potter?" he questioned with more then a hint of a smirk in his voice. "Cause I can handle myself against Weasel, so don't bother. Anyway he isn't the scary one not that Mud..." once again Draco's traitorous stomach decided to put in its two cents, and gurgled loudly.

Draco put a hand over his belly as if to silence it as he would by covering someone's mouth. He then proceeded to blush again as Potter smiled at him.

"Come on Draco, surely you can put up with me on the way to the kitchens, once we get their I have something I need to discus with Dobby, and probably wont even get a chance to make a peep in your direction before we have to go."

For some reason Draco noticed that Potter seemed to be expecting some grand reaction to what he said, well grander then the 'just stay the hell away from me' glare that he was getting. Draco shrugged elegantly and resumed his course to the portrait doorway of the kitchens.

"So, Draco..." Potter began as he started trailing after the Slytherin.

"Didn't I tell you not to call me that Potter?"

"Oh, did you?" came the completely unrepentant reply.

"Well if I didn't I am now," he grumbled.

Potter was smiling, Draco knew he was. "Anyway I was wondering, have you ever had a conversation with a House Elf?"

Draco looked over his shoulder at Potter and wondered if he had gone completely mad.

"Are you Mad?" He said completely outraged as he stopped in front of the fruit portrait. "I'm guessing you mean beyond the normal giving orders, and punishments being handed out. I'd just as soon try and have an in-depth conversation with a cat! You might as well ask me to discuss philosophy with a rat or a toad! At least if it is a familiar people wont look at you like you've gone round the bend."

Potter let out a small disappointed "oh" as Draco crossed his arms over his chest and cocked one of his eyebrows as he grumpily said, "so are you going to ask me any more stupid questions, or will I be allowed to eat in peace?"

Potter looked sadly at the floor as he absently reached out and tickled the pear.

Immediately after it opened Draco stepped through the doorway, and was halfway across the floor to his usual seat when he noticed something was wrong.

One the House Elves weren't rushing him to ask what they could get for him. Two there were two place settings laid out, where he usually sat and right across from it. Gone were the normal benches, and in their place were two high backed wooden chairs, beautifully carved, and decked out in their respective house colors of those meant to sit in them.

Potter gently brushed past him and sat down, Draco meanwhile was highly confused. "What the hell is going on?" Never before had a place been ready and waiting for him here in the kitchens, and was that a candelabra on the table between the two place settings? A candelabra with candles made of two long tapers twisted together in the colors of Slytherin and Gryffindor houses? Surely this had to be a bad joke.

Even worse were the place settings themselves. Potter's had golden eating utensils, the glasses were red, Gryffindor red, stained glass with a leafy design pained on it in gold on the outside. The plate was of the finest bone china with a golden edge and the design from the glass mirrored on the surface only in red. Draco's place setting matched Potter's in all ways but two. Instead of red it was green, and in place of the gold it was silver.

"What the HELL?!" He yelled again as he grabbed the nearest House Elf by the front of its ... Burlap sack.

"Wiggen sorry Master." Came the pathetic whiney reply. "Master Dumblydore gave orders."

Draco dropped the little elf and collapsed dramatically into the tastefully decorated chair with the comfy looking cushion done in a tasteful emerald green and edged in silver trim. Sighing he covered his face with his hands, it was turning out to be a really long day. He sighed again wearily and pushed his hair back on his head, before speaking to the little elf that still stood by wringing his little hands pathetically. "I want some food to take back with me to my dorm, preferably something that wont get crumbs into my bed sheets..."

The House Elf winced and started looking around frantically for something, apparently not finding it quickly enough it broke down into sobs and started hitting it's head on the floor. "Wiggen bad! Can't do as Master orders!"

Draco sat shocked, what the hell was wrong with the world today? He watched amazed as the elf seemed to have a sixth sense when a fellow elf walked near by carrying an armful of heavy looking pots. The burlap wearing, Wiggen, Draco thought that was what it said its name was, quickly liberated one of the pots from its brethren and began beating himself about the head with it.

"No Wiggen! Stop!" Potter said jumping from his seat and grabbing the pot, while trying to sooth the distraught creature.

The Elf looked perplexed as he gazed up at the boy holding the pot before him. "Master Harry Potter is too kind," it squeaked. "I hears much good about Master Harry Potter..."

"Yes, yes, now why can't you do what Draco asked?"

The elf's eyes teared up again as its lower lip quivered. "Master Dumblydore said yous both to eat in the kitchens from now on."

"See," Potter said trying to sound assuring, "You don't have to punish yourself for that. Dumbledore runs the school so it is only natural that his orders come before students. Regardless Draco's not mad at you because of that, are you Draco?"

"How many times am I going to have to tell you not to call me that, Potter? And for the record, Yes, I am..." Draco trailed off at the cold glare he got from Potter.

Draco rolled his eyes, then gazed upwards beseechingly before taking a deep breath and saying, "fine. I am not angry at the Elf."

Frustrated he dropped his elbow on the arm of his chair and rested his forehead in the palm of his hand. "Could this day get any worse?" He muttered to himself under his breath.

"Alright Potter we'll just have to set up a Kitchen visitation timetable so that we don't encroach on each other's eating times..."

Potter had sat down while Draco was starting to make plans for the master chart they would use, when he suddenly jumped up again to stop the elf that was starting to beat himself again with the pot. "Bad Wiggen, bad!" It cried out with each resounding thwack. Draco for his part slumped further into his chair and mimicked the elf unconsciously by lightly hitting his head against the wooden back of his chair.

"No Wiggen! Why do you think your bad now?" Potter said, again trying to sooth the elf.

"Wiggen not tell Masters all of what Master Dumblydore said. Wiggen must be punished."

"No you don't need to be punished, just tell us the rest of what he said."

Draco knew that this wouldn't be good. He could feel the impending doom that was piggybacked on the words that the House Elf was going to say. A shiver ran up his spine as the little elf looked worriedly at Draco before glancing at Potter several times, before finally motioning Potter closer then whispering something in his ear.

"Oh for crying...That's it!" Draco's hands slammed down on the table, startling the elf from what it was saying and drawing Potters eyes. Draco grumbled to himself as he pushed himself up from his chair, only to find that he couldn't get up. It was if the chair was bolted to the floor, and his body was stuck to the chair. He got his legs free only to find that he couldn't get his back away from the back of the chair, if he got his torso free then his hands and arms were stuck. He couldn't get out of the chair!

"What the Hell!" he yelled as he continued to try and free himself. "Of all the fucking... Can't believe... Son of a Bitch!"

Draco started to panic, he hated not having the option of moving, though games he played as a child he had learned that he could still operate without his eyesight or hearing, (although he absolutely hated not having both) but he couldn't get away if he couldn't move!

He continued to struggle until he felt someone grab his arms. "Draco, calm down! It's Okay!"

"Fuck off Potter! Your not the one with their arse trapped in a chair!" He yelled as he raised one leg and kicked Potter squarely in the stomach to get him to back off.

He couldn't help but smirk as he watched Potter tumble over the annoying little elf who had been the bearer of bad tidings all evening. The little glow of happiness lasted until well after Potter managed to stand all the while slightly curled around his abdomen.

"Feel better now Draco?" The Gryffindor managed to wheeze out.

Draco found he did, now that he wasn't panicking he realized that if necessary he could defend himself. "I don't think there will be a time where knocking you on your arse wont bring a smile to my face." He said snidely.

Potter ignored him, in favour of thanking a random House Elf that had performed a pain-numbing spell on his stomach. Then he threw himself into his own chair and forced a smile on his face.

"So here's the deal Draco." The Slytherin started to speak but held his tongue at the frosty look he was shot. "It appears that the Headmaster has decreed that you and I are allowed not to eat in the Great Hall with everyone else."

Draco frowned as once again Potter forced a smile on his own features. At least he thought it was a forced smile. It really didn't look like one though. Draco's frown deepened, how could it be anything but a forced smile?

"In the interest of making sure we don't get under the House Elves feet at one of their busiest times, the elves have been given strict orders as to when the only times they are allowed to give us food are."

Draco cringed things were just getting bleaker and bleaker in his outlook. "Also, he wants us to be here at the same time and eat together because he feels that it does so much to aid in balancing of the mind and body when you have company as opposed to being alone."

Draco stared at Potter in disbelief as the Gryffindor continued droning on about things like proper nutrition, aids in good digestion, and what sounded to him like a threat. Something along the lines of, if they didn't take better care of their health then he would turn them over to Madam Pomfrey, who would then be in charge of what they got for their meals.

Draco shuddered at the thought. He was well enough acquainted with what Medi-witches thought a proper diet was. In between pieces of chocolate she would be shoving some of the most disgusting food down his throat. Foods like Iceberg lettuce salads, without dressing.

Suddenly something clicked in Draco's head. "Hang on Potter," he interrupted angrily. "You mean to tell me that little 'can't talk properly to save his own life' House Elf, told you all that?"

"What?"

"The little bugger couldn't have been talking to you for more then a minute! You expect me to believe that he crammed all that into your brief conversation?"

"Oh," Potter began clearly thinking hard, "Would you believe I have a special type of telepathy that only works with House Elves?" The cheesiness of the grin on Potters face made Malfoy want to slap him.

Draco Scowled at him Darkly. "Ok," He said his grin getting bigger. "All that Wiggen said was that your chair had been spelled to hold you until you met certain requirements. The rest the Headmaster told me when he walked me to my detention earlier this evening."

Draco gaped momentarily speechless as Potter continued to grin at him. "You mean you knew about this?!" He yelled when he gathered his wits.

"So, you probably want to know what he told the elf the conditions were, huh?" Draco nodded. "I believe it went something along the lines of you had to spend an hour and a half making pleasant conversation, and eating."

The blond Slytherin dropped his head on to his empty plate with a thunk. How did he keep ending up in situations like this? He had to have been cursed.

Upon lifting his head his plate suddenly filled, with all of Draco's favourite foods. "Now Master's time starts." Said a familiar voice from beside Potter's chair, and he had to quell the urge to throw his plate at it.

"So...Draco,"

Draco looked tiredly at his nemesis as he picked up a warm dinner roll from a plate just left of his drinking glasses. He ripped a small part off and popped it into his mouth. Monosyllabic conversation could be pleasant right?

Stupid Headmaster!


	11. Draco the Dramatist

The Hardships of Being Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: If they did belong to me I would have tied them both in a chair until they stopped being so obstinate about their true feelings for each other, and the remainder of the books would not have a chance in heck of being so kid friendly.

Pairings: Draco/Potter eventually

Warnings: Whiny, self-absorbed Draco ahead, (I'm hoping that the clue bus smacks into him very soon.) not to mention OOC-ness to be had by all.

Authors Note: Woo hoo! I am back and in a settled position for a bit, so I will be able to update with more frequency! (At least for a little while) and since I have the time and inclination, I am now going to go back and thank all the people that I was unable to thank last time I posted, sorry for the delay all! Also in this chapter, Draco all alone, in bed, with only his thoughts to accompany him. It gives me chills just thinking about it. Alas, no Harry Potter though. Next time though.

PeachDancer82 - You know it is people like you, leaving reviews like that, that have a wonderful effect on my ego, and furthers the writing process, please continue to enjoy!

Shiva Angel - I never realized how hard writing humorous things would be, but the strange thing is that, I can never tell what people will think is funny, I am just going to stop second guessing and have fun writing, thanks so much for the review!

Louisa - Cool! I love my repeat reviewers! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! You know the sad part is, sometimes that last line is one of the hardest part to come up with. I was despairing that part 9 was never going to end. Hope you like this Chapter!

Cujufu - You like her? You really, really like her? I could just hug you! No one ever said they liked her before. She is actually a blend of two of my cats, with a sex change.

Aliba - Thank You! I am glad that you are enjoying it!

Starlit Night – Your making me blush with all of this praise! I hope that my renewed efforts at fixing my grammatical errors are noticeable! Thanks for the tips!

The Lady Wolfshead – Yes! I missed you lots and lots! ::Sniffle:: Thanks for your continued support in my efforts on writing characters that I have no grasp over. (Meaning your enjoyment of Filch's line) I always worry that people will not find things humorous in my stories.

Shinku – I'm sorry it took so long to update! (At least I got it updated before the year anniversary of my first post though) The fact that you said you go back and re-read parts really makes it all worthwhile. Thank you so much!

Pegasus – Your right, personally I wish that real life would stop interfering with writing, but I guess we are all slaves to it. And I don't mind not having a lot of reviews, because the people who write to tell me that they really enjoy what I have written, and my repeat reviewers, mean the world to me.

Insignificance – My head is spinning from all of your kind words! I am working on improving the quality of grammar and spelling. Out of curiosity is there a web page for available beta readers?

Forsaken163 – Thanks! Hope you like this part just as much!

Part 11

Draco was feeling good.

He was feeling surprisingly good considering the past few weeks had been spent in utter and complete horror dwelling on the many possibilities of what Potter could possibly ask for as a favour.

He sat back against a plush satin pillow as he sipped his preferred blend of scalding hot tea. Considering, things were close to being perfect. Yes life was very good.

He closed his eyes for a moment letting things just soak in. He breathed deeply and was slightly dismayed to smell the sent of cloves and vanilla, and a bit of something else that was purely his mother. What was she doing at school?

Wait, he's reclining against a satin pillow, drinking his favourite blend of tea, of course he's at home. A slight smile played at the corner of his mouth as he heard her silvery laughter ring through the closed door of the room. It was now obvious that this was the same sitting room that they had their little talk about how he was to behave for the whole of his sixth year. He really must remember to tell her that he really does love her; despite the fact that she wont buy him everything he wants.

"Draco, darling, your little friend has come to visit!" she called as the door opened. "I'll just leave you two to figure out what you're going to be doing for the day." He looked to the door and saw a tousled mop of brown hair, and a pair of inquisitive, expressive, green eyes come into view. The person walked to stand next to him as the door closed with an ominous sounding click.

Draco recoiled at the sight and felt the sneer of disdain forming on his face, as Potter crouched next to him. "What the hell do you want scarhead?" he growled, or rather, that is what he wanted to say, strangely enough it came out sounding more like "Harry! I'm so happy you came over today! I missed seeing you while you were visiting those American Wizards." And he could feel the bloody smile on his face. Not a sneer, not a bloody smirk, no an honest to goodness smile. He couldn't even remember the last time he had a reason to smile as such.

He had to be under a spell there was no other explanation for it. Had to be. He tried commanding his limbs to move, curling his hands into fists and then relaxing them, noting that they were responding just fine. At the burst of giggles from the rooms other occupant, he swung his arm in an arc hoping to intersect somewhere around Harry's jaw. And intersect it did, with a wussie sounding slap, on Potters shoulder. "What was that all about Drake?" Potter asked looking genuinely perplexed.

At the sound of such a loathsome nickname, Draco could almost feel a tic starting under his left eye. It was time to say something truly scathing to Mr. Boy Who Lived. "I was just making sure that I was limbered up just incase you want to do some 'exorcises' later on."

Draco was in almost a tangible agony from the fact you could hear the quotes that would go around exorcises, he even felt his eyebrows raise and lower in added emphasis. How could he have sunk so very low to as say something like that? He watched in shock as Potter blushed, for some unfathomable reason, and then duck his head with a slight smile playing at his lips.

Potter moved so he was sitting on the settee, dangerously close to the Slytherin. Draco tried to move instinctively to push the other boy away, but found his hand resting on the thigh of the boy who lived. He then found himself leaning slowly towards the Gryffindor, who seemed to be leaning in also, and both of their eyes were drifting shut.

"I missed you terribly Drake." He heard just before their lips touched softly.

Gasping Draco dragged himself from his nightmare. He was certain it was a nightmare, he couldn't really remember what it had been about. Actually the only thing he could remember was that Potter had been in it, and it had deeply disturbed him.

It was bad enough that he had to spend so much time in the other boy's presents, without the added joy of having him in his dreams as well. Thankfully since 'that night' there had been no repeats of the grabby chair, He didn't want to think of the hell he would have been in if he couldn't have gotten up and left after finishing his food.

It wasn't all bad though, especially when Potter had started talking about decent subjects, like their mutual dislike of Pansy Parkinson, though all Draco would do was grunt and nod at Potter's insights into what a creepy, disturbing, idiot she was. They had actually had a brief conversation that both boys had participated in about food likes and dislikes.

Besides it wasn't like he talked with his mouth open like Greg, and he hadn't decided that blowing his nose was a good Idea like Vincent had.

Draco still shuddered at the memory of that particular day, he had been trying a new dish that had been served for an international food day, it was something called egg-drop soup. He still couldn't look at the stuff, which Dumbledore had taken a liking too and was served at least once a week, without getting a crawly gaggy feeling at the back of his throat. It also didn't help that regardless of what he said to them, the House elves still persisted in trying to serve the stuff to him.

Draco rolled over on to his tummy and sleepily shoved his head under his pillows. He wasn't actually going back to sleep, but it was a Sunday and he was allowed just a bit more time to get up and get moving. He had at least till 9 am, and it couldn't be more then 6 now.

He pulled his blankets around his body more securely and made the executive decision to ignore his bladder for just a little bit longer. He let his mind drift aimlessly, wondering what his mum was doing, how his dad was, where his cat had hidden, as well as a few other trivial things of the like. Then they turned back to the topic of his dreams.

He knew it wasn't the first dream he had with Potter. With as much as the two of them were being shoved together, it probably wouldn't be the last time either. Besides Potter never stopped talking, even when Draco was making perfectly clear that he wasn't listening.

In fact the boy had gone into such depth of description on his friend Weasel's house, Draco felt that he could confidently navigate the place without any hesitation, and find, he shuddered to think, the room over decorated, in of all Quidditch teams, a Chuddley Cannon's motif. He was also pretty sure that he absolutely hated someone Potter called that arse of a beached whale, Dudley. He sounded like a complete and utter spoiled git, from Draco's point of view.

He arched his back slowly, enjoying the feeling of his spine popping, as he pushed himself to a sitting position with his legs folded under him, and his head bent forward to avoid connecting with the ceiling of his bed. It was a good thing that he could tune Potter out so well, otherwise he would have a ton of useless crap floating around in his head.

Blearily he reached up and scratched his head, grumbling at the feeling of tufts of hair sticking out every which way. He really needed to find a spell of some sort for hair gel, maybe he could do that when things calmed down, or he felt safer.

Silently he reached for his wand, de-warded his curtains and climbed out. From the look of things his luck was holding true and he was the only one stirring. He quickly gathered his things from his trunk and re-warded his space. He had to get moving if he wanted to get to breakfast on time.

Besides, Potter was probably just waiting to regale him with even more tails of his life as a Muggle, and other assorted gems guaranteed to put anyone to sleep in only five seconds. Whether they were paying attention or not, and Draco was definitely not paying attention.

Anyway that is all they were, after all.

Stupid stories.


	12. Draco the Brave

The Hardships of Being Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: Miss J K Rowling owns them all, but I would be willing to barter them from her for all my worldly possessions, which really doesn't amount to that much.

Pairings: Draco/Potter eventually

Warnings: Whiny, self-absorbed Draco ahead, (I'm hoping that the clue bus smacks into him very soon.) not to mention OOC-ness to be had by all.

Authors Note: Hmmm, things still going well, and inspiration has struck! Hopefully it will continue to hang around until I am done with this thing. Regardless, Thanks to all those reading, and as always extra hugs to those who review!

Forsaken163 – I know it was short! Ahhh darn it! And it didn't go at all the way I had originally planned for it to go. I started typing and suddenly the other version seemed, well to be blunt, stupid. So I changed it. Glad it was still palatable.

Part 12

Draco opened his mouth to object, but shut it just as quickly at the waspish look that Professor Snape gave him.

"Do you not trust your Professor, when he tells you that this is a non lethal potion?"

Draco nervously licked his lips as he heard a smattering of giggles from the rest of the circle of students around Snape. Probably the other Slytherins, he would bet. He smirked in an echo of a face he would have made not more then half a year ago, as he attempted to weasel out of the task he had been given. "Of course I believe you sir." He began tactfully. "It's just I remember all to well, some of the horrible mistakes that Longbottom managed."

"Well then Mr. Malfoy, it should ease your mind that Mr. Longbottom is no longer in this class. You shall be testing Miss Parkinson's potion." Snape gave Pansy a favoring smile that had Draco wanting to hurl, at least when he was teacher's pet there was good reason for it.

Now, however, he was reduced to the position of test subject for the Ferrgineous Pilosus Potion. If it worked Draco could expect to have every single hair on his body to turn a bright, almost fluorescent orange. Then there was the bad side. If it wasn't made properly anything could happen, from the much desired temporary effects, to something more permanent like spending the brief remainder of one's life wondering why your internal organs suddenly felt drafty as your skin melted off your body.

Professor Snape did have a point though, if it wasn't safe to drink, he would be fired, put in a jail, and all in all, it just wouldn't be worth it, just to get rid of someone.

"All right sir," Draco said as he stepped forward, past some people, into the middle of the circle. He scowled, and rolled his eyes briefly as he felt someone's fingers gently brush the back of his hand. Fuck Potter was just adamant about showing support in the most touchy feely ways possible. It was a good thing that Draco wasn't his friend, otherwise the Slytherin probably would have been hugged to within an inch of his life.

Draco stopped directly in front of Snape and squared his shoulders before nodding slightly. Yes he trusted Snape, nothing bad was going to happen. Probably something really embarrassing, but nothing bad.

Snape turned from him and stood in front of two boys from... Draco raked his gaze over their robes, which were slightly rumpled, made of a cheap cloth and a tad to short for them. Probably Hufflepuffs then, Ravenclaw's organized their time too well to have anything but perfectly pressed robes, Gryffindors invariably looked like they had slept in theirs, and Slytherin's never looked so cheap. Snape stood there for a few moments while the stupid idiots had the gall to merely smile up at him, when he was clearly giving them the patented 'get the hell out of the way' glare. Draco could tell simply by the set of his shoulders. Both boys were oblivious until Snape, with a huff of inpatients, all but shoved them out of the way.

The beaker containing the potion was retrieved from Snape's desk and then passed to Draco, who just looked at it for a moment. Just because he trusted Snape didn't mean it was going to be easy to get it down. The first problem he had, was with who made the thing, Pansy. Sure in essence Snape had probably done all the work, but Pansy still had a hand in there somewhere. The second was with what the potion was supposed to do. With his fair skin he was going to look like some sort of flashing sign, and that was just an unbearable thought.

Then, and amazingly enough, even worse, was the potion itself. Draco would be astounded if he could manage to choke down any of it. You see inside the beaker was a liquid (but only in the sense that it wasn't quite firm enough to be solid) which gave new meaning to the word slimy. It was aqua coloured with flecks of something that was a moldy green, and fuzzy. He wasn't sure how the flecks managed to stay fuzzy in that slime, but in any case it didn't look drinkable.

The entire class watched in stunned silence as a large snot-like bubble formed in the beaker until it was as big as Draco's head, then popped with a stuttering flatulent sound. Draco almost dropped the beaker.

Shuddering slightly Draco held his breath, closed his eyes, set the rim of the glass on his lower lip, and tilted it slightly. After a few seconds he tilted it further, and even further after a few more seconds. Then he opened one eye and peered down at the sludge he was going to drink. A bubble the size of a galleon formed in the glass and popped with a thankfully less bodily noise quality, though it did spatter on his nose. 'Please, let class be dismissed before this reaches my mouth!' the Slytherin wished fervently, even though he knew that it wasn't going to happen.

Another full 30 seconds passed before Draco felt the potion touch his upper lip, he swallowed convulsively and opened his mouth. If this took much longer he was going to have to take another breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, the stuff had to be close to the edge of the glass by now! Then a horrible thought struck, how much of this potion did Snape expect him to swallow? Surely not more then a small mouthful.

Tentatively Draco forced his cowering tongue forward to find the potion. He could tell when he was close to it, as his taste buds all suddenly screamed at him to back away, and that was without touching it. He then began to repeat in his head a mantra of 'I trust Snape' and started to close his mouth around the small bit that was within range.

"Draco! Don't!" He heard Snape yell, as the beaker was slapped from his hand. His eyes snapped open and he saw several students (all Slytherins) picking them selves up off the floor cautiously as they looked at the beaker, which had smashed against the wall behind them. 'Good reflexes," he thought before suddenly Snape's face filled his vision.

He jerked back instinctively, only to find his head being held by one of the professor's hands while he used the other to perform a cursory inspection, like holding open his eyes to check for signs of, something. "You didn't swallow any of it did you?" Snape said with a deceptively calm voice, but the blond could feel a slight tremor in the older man's hands.

"No professor," Draco said licking his lips nervously.

Snape smiled slightly, so as no one else would notice and ruffled Draco's hair, while making it look like just another check for something, but Draco could tell the difference, he always had been able to.

The potion's teacher stalked to the wall that had stopped the flight of the beaker. Amazingly enough the slime was still maintaining the shape of the glass as it lay amongst the shards of it on the floor. Maybe it should be classified as a solid. He muttered something after pulling out his wand and floated the stuff into the air.

Then while still facing the wall, he started speaking. "If I hadn't noticed the flecks turning colors from green to green-gray, Mr. Malfoy could very well be dead right now." His voice was an even monotone, and his stance seemed relaxed, but there was suck a powerful rage coming off him, no one dared breath to loudly for fear of attracting his attention. "And while I may not yet know the what's and who's, you can rest assured I will know. Very soon, and then expulsion will be a dream compared to what I will put you though. No one threatens my record as a teacher. I have never had a fatal, or near fatal accident in my lab. This will never happen again!"

Draco smiled "My uncle Serverus is so cool!"

The entire rooms attention snapped to the pale Slytherin, who was wobbling back and forth unsteadily. "Did I say that out loud?" he giggled.

Snape was by his side in an instant. "I thought you said you didn't swallow any!" He growled as he checked the boy's eyes. Frowning at what he saw.

"I didn't," Draco protested as he leaned backwards just a little to far and almost fell over. He felt arms twine around his waist, holding him upright, and the Slytherin twisted around to see who had caught him.

"Hello, Potter!" He crowed cheerfully before frowning slightly. "I don't think I like you." He frowned even harder as he attempted to think about what he just said. "Or was that I'm not supposed to like you?"

Draco considered this, his head falling to one side as he attempted to focus his thoughts. Absently he licked his lips.

"Oh Hell," he heard Snape groan. "Come on, we have to get him to the infirmary."

Snape transfigured a table into a levitating stretcher and set Draco on it before he turned and started barking orders. "Miss Granger! Make sure that no one leaves this room until I return. Sit quietly in your desks and work on a essay, which is due tomorrow. Twenty inches on the punishment for unethical potion practices."

Potter waved his wand and began directing the stretcher out the door, causing Draco to smile. "Anything to get out of potions class, eh Potter?" he slurred, tilting his head to watch Snape storm out of the class after them, only pausing long enough to ward the door.

"There now the little cretins will only be able to leave in an emergency." The professor muttered as he quickly caught up to the two boys.

Draco smiled happily to himself, two of the people he cared about were here, things would be just fine. Slowly he let his eyes drift shut, it was getting to be too much of an effort to keep them open. Every now and again Potter or Severus would say something loudly to him, and his eyes would jerk open before drifting down again.

Then finally Draco managed to drift off, voices be damned.

Stupid voices.


	13. Draco to Be

The Hardships of Being Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: If only, but no, I own nothing.

Pairings: Draco/Potter eventually

Warnings: Whiny self absorbed Draco ahead, (I'm thinking it may take more then just a clue bus smacking into him to get the point across, have to find a bigger vehicle.) not to mention OOC-ness to be had by all.

Authors Note: Short, very short. Not a word from anyone is spoken in this part. Just filler till the next part really, nothing to earth shattering. Hugs to readers, kisses and bribes to reviewers! And Again Sorry for the long interludes between chapters, but I was with out computer, (save for the one at work) and was not able to get any actual writing done.

Forsaken163 - I didn't say he would die, I said he could die. Don't worry I'm not done with this yet.

The Lady Wolfshead - I've missed you! Massive glomming-hugs I was beginning to despair of ever catching up to you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! (One for each chapter don't ya know)

Part 13

He was dying.

There was no other explanation for it. The Malfoy line was ending here and now.

Draco Malfoy whimpered pitifully as a particularly nasty cramp ripped through his abdomen, only to quickly arch in a bow like manner the other way as a spasm went down his back. His skin felt far too tight, and was cold and clammy. His mouth felt like it was crammed with cotton, and his breathing was coming in shallow pants. If he was lucky his head was going to split in half.

He longed for the bliss of oblivion, having been there before being pulled to wakefulness, if he could get back maybe the pain would leave.

How long he had been like this, was anyone's guess. Every now and again when the agony became bearable he tried to open his eyes so as to find out what was going on, but he couldn't seem to see anything beyond the white sweat soaked sheets that he lay upon. Even worse was the fact that he could only hear his own panting and whimpers of pain echoing through his head. He had lost his voice to the point that he could no longer scream what felt like years ago, though he still attempted to do so.

Draco shivered violently, causing his teeth to chatter. He just wished this dying thing would hurry up and end. It wasn't like he was having any sort of fun.

Then without warning the pain stopped. Draco could feel the warmth of the air around him. He could even felt what could have been a breath against the back of his neck, as if someone were close enough to feel, but far enough away that they didn't touch.

And there was a sent. It was familiar but so very different from anything he knew. There was the Vanilla and Cloves that his mother was always wearing, but yet it was so different. Her perfume was Sweet and at times overpowering, but this was tempered with sandalwood and tea leaves.

There was also a low, slightly off pitch humming coming from behind him. He wondered if maybe he should make an attempt to find out who this mystery person was, but found the prospect of opening his eyes to be too daunting.

He felt his body shift of it's own accord, tipping backward to the source of the warmth, until it was resting against someone who was, thankfully, no longer humming. He relaxed further as an arm carefully wrapped itself around his torso. It had been so long since Draco had allowed himself the pleasure of a comforting embrace without having another motive, or seriously questioning the motives of the other party.

His mind attempted to wander briefly and figure out who it was that would be holding him so gently, as if Draco were very dear to them. But his body was far to drained for serious thought. It didn't really matter who it was, right now it was enough to know someone cared.

He smiled slightly as his mind gave up clinging to consciousness, finally letting his body drag him down into a heavy slumber. The sound of low, slightly off key humming filling his ears as it started back up. It was one of those ridiculously catchy tunes that were really crap, but always seemed to be playing on the radio.

Great it was probably going to infiltrate his dreams, and of course wreck his sleep.

Stupid song.


	14. Draco to Decide

The Hardships of Being Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: What I wouldn't give to have them be mine, but alas I have to settle with merely barrowing them for a moment, then JK can have them back, with only a slight bit of wear.

Pairings: Draco/Potter eventually

Warnings: Whiny self absorbed Draco ahead, not to mention OOC-ness to be had by all.

Authors Note: Draco awake, alert and not happy. Ahhh just how I like him. Hugs to readers, kisses and bribes to reviewers! Also this chapter and most possibly the following will contain a twisted version of Druidic magic and or lore, sorry but I changed things slightly, may the local Druidic high priest forgive me. (sorry Ron!)

Part 14

Draco Malfoy was this time absolutely positive that he had everyone in school worried.

Well maybe not everyone. But allot of people. That is if you consider Madam Pomfrey, Professor Snape and the Headmaster allot, and of late that was practically a horde of people.

Draco had seen no one else in the past five days then the before mentioned individuals. Madam Pomfrey had said that she was keeping would be visitors out so as to 'speed his healing', but he knew better. If people were concerned they would have sent candies and cards or other suitable gifts.

So far the only 'gifts' Draco had received had been in the mornings, one was a hairball left on his pillow, so that when he opened his eyes it was the first thing that he saw. Figuring out who had left it was no hard stretch of the imagination, but it had taken him by surprise. In fact he had shrieked rather loudly, as he thought at first there was a mouse sleeping, or worse, dead on his pillow. Also in his scramble to get away from it when he realized what it actually was, he pulled a muscle in his arm, almost got a concussion from falling out of the bed, and gave Madam Pomfrey a rather hearty laugh.

Also was the lingering sent of tealeaves, sandalwood, cloves and vanilla every morning proving (at least in Draco's mind) that he hadn't been completely out of it the other night, and that the other person wasn't just a dream.

Dumbledore came by every day at approximately 2 o'clock, bringing with him Draco's class work and the oddest muggle candies, which Draco always declined.

Snape came by at least once daily, more often then not early in the morning or late at night, to try and figure out what it was that the potion was doing to him. According to his latest findings, the potion was incomplete and somehow just floating around in his system, waiting for the final ingredient.

"And this means... what?" the young Slytherin had asked peevishly, upon hearing Snape's deductions after four days of tests, prodding with wands, and poking with needles. Plus he had to endure enforced bed rest, and green, leafy, uncooked foods from Madam Pomfrey, lord he was so board and longing for freedom he was even starting to miss Potter's company. At least with potter around there was a steady flow of meaningless chatter he could ignore.

"What this means, Draco, is that you need to be very careful of what you eat." Then professor Snape pulled out a very long piece of parchment, crammed full of the teachers spidery handwriting. "I've managed to compile a list of foods you most certainly cannot eat. Fortunately for you, this still allows for the vast majority of school fair to be consumable. I would highly recommend that you commit this list to memory and never eat anything that you have never had before. In the mean time I will work on a way to cleanse the potion from your system."

Snape handed the parchment to the young man who proceeded to squint at it for a moment before snidely asking "What, did you write this, then use a shrinking charm on the letters so you could fit more in?"

Snape scowled, "Very funny Mr. Malfoy. Now if you will excuse me I have a class of ingrates to prepare a lecture for." And with that he swept from the room his robes billowing ominously about him.

Draco looked closer at the list in his hands, noticing it was arranged alphabetically. He hummed softly to himself as he skimmed the vast number of foods no suddenly unavailable to him.

"Hmmmm, alfalfa, beets coconuts, dragon meat, elvish wines, French fries..." He paused looking up and wrinkled his nose. "What the hell is a French fry?"

Sighing dramatically he tossed the parchment on his nightstand. He then wrapped his arms around his legs, rested his head on his knees, and settled in for a nice long think.

His life had gone from perfect to complete outcast in a matter of weeks, what with all of the unfortunate sightings of him walking alone with Dumbledore in the purported direction of the Headmaster's office. He most assuredly was never going to get any Slytherin to ever accept him back into the fold. At least not without a dark mark on his arm, and after seeing the one on his father's arm one night, he knew exactly how horribly it would look on someone with his coloring.

He supposed that he could possibly transfer to a new school, but mum would never go for it. In her mind the important thing was that Hogwarts was within and easy distance.

He could try running away and living as an outcast of the wizarding community, using magic illegally then running from the ministry before he could be caught. Draco snorted in derision at this, he was being way too dramatic.

The door to his room opened softly and Headmaster Dumbledore made a rather early entrance, as it probably wasn't more the shortly after breakfast.

"Well now Mr. Malfoy, it appears that we have some rather serious business to discuss today." He smiled and got a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "But first, can I convince you to try a chocolate covered potato crisp? I must say I am quite taken with them. Of course the dark chocolate is better then the milk chocolate, but I fear that I have eaten all of those already."

Draco gapped at the wizened old fool for a moment before shaking his head. "Ah, just as well," the old man said, tucking the bag into one of the many hidden pockets in his robe. "Now then, Mr. Malfoy, as you may have realized above all else Hogwarts is still an institution of learning, and as of late it has been brought to my attention that some students might benefit greatly from, shall we say a more advanced curriculum."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm sure that Granger will jump at the chance to take extra courses." He grumbled slightly wondering why the old fool was bringing this up to him.

"Ah yes, Miss Granger is an exceptional witch, but I fear that she lacks the, hmmm, spark that these classes require." Dumbledore leaned forward slightly his eyes taking on a more serious look. "You see Miss Granger's magic is more about precision, books and rote memorization. The classes that I am suggesting are more unstructured and raw. I have been planning on starting classes like this for a few years now, but was unsure of who I would be offering them to."

"You're offering the classes to me?" Draco queried, sounding incredulous. "But Why?"

"You see Draco, their is a saying 'In the Physical world opposite energies attract. In the spiritual world, like energies attract.' The magic I have in mind are best suited for two people that fit both criteria, Traditionally it is males and females that are attracted in the physical world, and males to other males or females to other females in the spiritual world. However their are rare cases where an opposing force in the spiritual world is just similar enough that it can be considered like in nature."

Draco felt as though he were going to keel over, first Dumbledore was talking about advanced courses, that Draco himself is being offered, then the doddering wonder is droning on about energies?

"It is rarer still to find like spiritual energies that have opposite physical energies, so I was actually looking for a wand in a brush pile..."

Draco felt his head droop to one side. Did this speech have a point? More importantly, did it have an End?

"So once I had finally ruled out the female populace of the school, I had to search carefully for the right males. Their powers would have to be about the same in potential, but with different strengths."

Draco's eyelids lowered to half-mast of their own accord. 'If I fall asleep here, in front of Dumbledore, please don't let me snore!' He thought, his mind in a brief panic, which caused his eyes for flare open for a bout a second. Not that Draco ever snored, no one in the Malfoy line snored, it just wasn't done. Unfortunately there was a first time for everything.

"Of course you things would have to be moved and you would be removed from your regular classes."

"Really?" Draco said, instantly snapping to full alertness.

"Yes I am afraid you would still be required to do the work for the classes though, so you could get credit towards your NEWTS, but these would be private lessons. Just you the teacher and one other student."

Dumbledore paused and looked hard at Draco. "What do you say Mr. Malfoy, would you be willing to participate in these classes?"

"I suppose," Draco said using the years of practice he had at feigning disdain and un-interest. While inside he was practically doing flips.

"Good, in anticipation of your answer, your trunk and personal effects have already been moved to the room that you will be staying in. It is an offshoot of the room that you and Mr. Potter cleaned for your detention two weeks ago. You will move into it tomorrow, after Madam Pomfrey has releases you from the hospital. Mr. Potter has already moved into his room and anxiously awaits beginning classes with you."

Draco bristle silently, once again, something he had thought was about him, turned out to be all about Potter. Draco was probably Dumbledore's last-ditch effort at finding a suitable partner for teaching his Precious Potter new things.

If he didn't know it would be akin to suicide, he would tell the old coot to got to hell and shove the damn 'special lessons'.

It seemed to be the story of Draco's life lately. His hopes for people's attention and concern would rise, only to be brutally crushed under the weight of all that was Harry Potter.

Stupid Hopes.


	15. Draco is Silly

The Hardships of Being Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: What I wouldn't give to have them be mine, but alas I have to settle with merely barrowing them for a moment, then JK Rowling can have them back, with only a slight bit of wear.

Pairings: Draco/Potter eventually

Warnings: Whiny self absorbed Draco ahead, not to mention OOC-ness to be had by all.

DracoWhereArtThou – Thank You! I know I have said this before, but it still remains true, sometimes finding the 'stupid…." Part is the hardest part of writing in this series. And don't worry, Things always do pick up around Draco.

Disgrace07 – Who Hoo! Did ya'll see that! I got my first flame! Wow, it was really long and impressive too. Not sure why it was aimed more at me then the story, but I guess ya can't please every one. Actually it is almost poetic in an insulting way. Well whoever you are, I am sorry you are so very displease with this story, and I hope you can find reading material more to your liking elsewhere. Good luck in your search!

Blood-Debt – Only Thirteen chapters? Hmm, I might need a few more. I will certainly endeavor to pull off this pairing to your satisfaction though. Thanks!

Seto Kaiba's My Babe – Thank You for the Review! Sigh, the imperfection of spell check, but trust me when I say it would be oodles worse if not for that handy little invention.

Nocturnallupine – Thank you! You have no Idea the compliment it is to hear that something was funny enough to almost make you fall out of your chair! Hopefully this wasn't while you were at either School or Work, it is always hard to explain breaking out in 'spontaneous' laughter.

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Authors Note: This story has officially gone into AU-land, as this will contain absolutely no Spoilers or references to book 6! Also I am currently in negotiations in an attempt to find an actual Beta! Right then, to business, in this installment, we have Draco, his new room, and a few other things.

Part 15

Madam Pomfrey had given Draco firm instructions to go straight to his new dorm area and stay there till at least tomorrow to make sure that he recovered from his ordeal. He had of course agreed, if only to get out of the hospital wing. By the time that Draco had made it out of the infirmary, ducked around Dumbledore, passed up Potter, side stepped Snape, all without being detected, and reached the safety of his new room, he was itching to do something.

Unfortunately there was nothing to do. His clothing had been put away, exactly as he preferred them, his robes hanging in his new wardrobe were sorted by most fashionable, then further by color. Draco had eyed them critically, noting sadly that even though they were mostly black Hogwarts robes, they were sorted with an eye for perfection, taking into account natural fading. In fact everything in his room was as orderly as it would be, had he been at home.

He pouted momentarily, wondering if he should throw himself on the bed, and sulk, just to mess up the coverlet. He groaned inwardly at his thoughts before going to look out the window. This was what he was reduced to. Petty things that not even the house elves would be upset over. Lord it had been ages since Draco had done anything, to anybody. He longed to… Hex someone.

He undid the latch and opened the window, breathing the fresh air deeply. He wanted to go flying or to play some Quidditch. Absently he wondered how fast the Cleansweeps the school had would go.

He grumbled for a few moments to himself, he wasn't used to being so high up, and not having a broom beneath him. The room He and Potter had cleaned out had been on the 2nd floor, but after taking a short flight of curving stairs it appeared that his room, and possibly Potter's was at the top of a tower of the castle. Granted not the tallest tower, that would have been the one used for the Astronomy classes, but it certainly wasn't on the 3rd floor. He grumbled even more when he noticed the absolutely breath-taking view his window afforded him.

He could see the lake glimmer as the sun's dappled rays danced upon it, he frowned at the enchanting sight of a bunch of fairies rise from the grass running along the bank of the lake, to lazily flutter and loop their way back to the forbidden forest, where the leaves rustled gently in the breeze. One particularly lazy farie paused just outside the tree line and flitted down towards the ground at what Draco could only assume to be a pretty blossom, after all if not for the contented glow coming off the damn little bugs Draco wouldn't have even noticed them, they were only about the size of seagulls.

Then without warning the glow was gone, swallowed up by what looked to Draco like a cockatrice the size of Hagrid's stupid dog, Fang. A smile played over the Slytherin's face, he had never seen a wild cockatrice before, come to think of it, he had never seen a live cockatrice before. His father had a few stuffed ones that with a special word could change whomever was in front of the thing's eyes into stone, just like a real one might, and he had seen bits of them, for use in potions, but this was a real live one!

Suddenly Draco had an idea, he was going into the forest, if for no other reason then it would be something to alleviate the boredom and ease the frustrations that had lately becoming a constant in his life. He wasn't really going to go too deep into the forest, and he also wasn't going looking for any dangerous creatures, but he was going in.

Draco straightened his shoulders and pulled his wand from his pocket before shutting the window with pane-rattling force. He stretched casually before quietly sauntering over to the door. He was out of practice at sneaking around, he was pretty sure that it was mostly luck that got him unnoticed to his rooms earlier, so he figured no better time then the present to get back into the swing of things. He listened quietly at his door for a few moments, holding his breath as he listened for anyone or thing that might be on the other side. Then he dropped to his stomach and peered out of the crack between the hardwood planks of the floor and the base of the door.

Seeing nothing he stood, self consciously brushing off his robes, set his hand gently on the door latch and lifted it, just enough to release it's catch. Pausing he glared at the hinges, he couldn't remember if they were squeaky, a definite sign that he was loosing his touch. Last year alone he could have told anyone who asked where the loose floorboards were from the Slytherin dormitories to one of the many 'secret' spots to witness people sneaking around. He could point out which hinges complained no matter how much oil was used on them and where the favorite hiding places of Filch and his thrice-damned cat were. Of course last year he had been trying to find people who were breaking rules and going where they shouldn't be, which was exactly what he had said if anyone found him someplace he shouldn't have been.

Draco glanced out the window, and thought of something else, though it didn't seem particularly cold out side right now, the forest was just creepy enough to be downright shivery cold, without actually changing the temperature. He slowly released the latch and wandered over to his wardrobe, choosing a robe made of a heavier fabric the he had on and considered what spell to use on the questionable hinges of his door. There were three that he could think of, each had their own merits. One would lift the weight of the door from its hinges, freeing the metal from noisily rubbing together. This charm however only lasted for a further ten minutes beyond the initial casting, and you had to have direct line of sight with the hinges to work the charm, so he wouldn't be able to sneak back in. Another would instantly grease the hinge, but this was a spell with long lasting effects, the magical lubricant would continue to do it's job for months, maybe even years after it had been cast, and that would ruin Draco's chances of forewarning if someone were trying to sneak into his rooms while he was still inside. Unless of course he wanted to manually clean the gunk off, as if. The third was the trickiest, and he wasn't even sure why he was thinking of this one. After all he had yet to successfully cast it. It was a charm that had been in his beloved book of nearly forgotten Dark Arts, which had been a gift from You-Know-Who. The charm's whole purpose was to make solid objects intangible, while keeping the look of a solid object. One of the down sides was the fact that it was only good for one, object, and didn't continue on to added pieces. For example if you were casting it on a table you could very well loose the legs if they were carved from a separate piece of wood as the top.

Thus, if the spell was cast on the door which was several long solid piece of wood, each plank would be insubstantial, the hinges, door handle and latch would then no longer be connected to anything, and the handle, could very well fall through to the floor. Also if one was trying to get though a stonewall, you had to be careful to only cast the spell on a few stones, otherwise it could weaken the structure enough to collapse it. Draco shrugged and decided that the last one would just be showing off, if he could even get it right. Nope he was defiantly going with the first option, besides it wasn't like he was completely confined to his quarters, as long as he wasn't caught in the corridors outside of his new dormitory and classroom, he would be just fine.

Checking the situation on the other side of the door again, Draco cast the charm and eased the door open. Making sure his wand was at the ready.

The hallway was silent and rather dark for this time of day, as he moved quietly down the hall and steps, but as things stood shadows were Draco's friends and he was darn glad to be renewing his acquaintance with them. Draco paused just on the other side of the archway to the stairs and glanced around the room beyond.

Granted he knew he was just being silly and that all of this over the top sneakiness was unnecessary, still it felt good, like something he would have done a year ago, and anything that made him feel like his old self was definitely good.

By the time the boy had made his way to the entranceway of the castle he was, as of yet, still undetected, and pressed into a narrow recessed space between a statue and the wall, wondering when the two Hufflepuff's currently engaged in a serious lip-lock, right in front of his hiding spot, would decide to find a less public venue to swap spit. He longed to yell that they should get a room, or at the very least he wanted to cast a Petrificus Totalus on them so that some Professor or even Filch would be catching them in the act.

Draco glanced around the edge of the statues base, seeing if the pair looked like they were going to leave the other's tonsils' alone for a moment, or if he was going to have to hope that they were so engaged in snogging that he wouldn't be noticed while slipping away. Draco's eye's widened and he ducked down behind the statue again. Great, he really hadn't needed to see some nameless seventh-year groping about under the shirt of an equally nameless sixth-year. Draco thought he vaguely recognized both of their faces, (err at least half of their faces when the other wasn't blocking it).

Draco glanced around the hallway as surreptitiously as he could, checking to see if anyone else was around, then braced himself to leave his hiding spot. He couldn't stay here all day after all, he had things to do and places to be. He shifted and started rising when he heard it, the yowl that all students doing something they shouldn't be feared. The sound of Mrs. Norris calling for Filch.

Draco dropped back into a crouch and listened as the couple disengaged and fled down the hall. He strained his ears and imagined that he could hear the cat padding closer, he could see in his mind's eye the slight twitch of her whiskers as she scented the air, and walked to closer to where he was hiding. He could actually see her shadow against the wall, as she walked next to the base, getting closer to his hiding spot. Draco drew his wand, if he was going to be discovered out of his rooms after being told to stay put he was going to make sure that he did something worthwhile first. He readied himself with a freezing charm, but before he could cast, a gray-black striped head poked around the corner, and wide green eyes peered at him mischievously. Draco lowered his wand slightly as the cat fully turned the corner and sat in front of him, smirking at him.

"Was that you Morgana?" He asked. The cat calmly lifted its paw to her mouth and started licking it so that she could clean her face. Draco rolled his eyes and once again started to stand, dropping back as Morgana hissed at him. She then ran into the hall and hissed very loudly again. Draco peered out from his hiding space again and found his cat facing off with the real Mrs. Norris. They growled at each other for a moment before they seriously got into it, and Draco watched as they fought briefly, tufts of fur flying, accompanied by a plethora of hisses, growls and more then a few yowls.

They broke apart and Mrs. Norris bolted down the corridor, turning to go down another, and almost tripping Filch. Morgana gave chase and did trip the crotchety caretaker, who was up in a shot and chasing after her, and yelling at her loudly.

Draco smiled, he was going to have to do something really nice for her when he saw her next, which would probably be at the end of the year. He glanced down the hall and made his way out from his hiding spot. From their it was relatively easy to get out of the main doors.

Once outside Draco stuffed his wand in his pocked and stood quietly for a moment letting the sun beat down on him. It was colder out here then Draco had expected it to be, his breath clearly visible as he exhaled. While it had yet to snow, a rarity for the time of year, Draco could practically taste a coming storm on the wind. While today was bright and sunny, he would bet by the end of this coming Tuesday their would be at least a foot of snow on the grounds.

Smiling brightly Draco set off casually in the direction of the Forest. The only thing between him and his destination now was the house of that oaf Hagrid. And so long as no one was around it, Draco would be fine. He automatically slowed his pace as he neared the shabby little shack, and ducked behind some rocks as soon as he noticed that someone was outside it. Draco peaked over the stones, and noticed a grouping closer. So he carefully crept over to that pile and again looked towards the house.

There were two people outside the hut. Draco groaned quietly and rolled his eyes. The Half giant was talking to none other then Harry Potter, and from the look of things they were just starting their conversation, as Hagrid had just motioned for Harry to have a seat. Draco carefully pounded his head against the stone in frustration. He didn't want to hurt himself after all, but this was so very frustrating!

Stupid Hagrid!


End file.
