Summary of whole story: After a chance meeting/rescue with Draco Malfoy, Harry finds himself thinking about the blond more often than not.

Summary (of this chapter): Harry comes to the rescue! As usual. And gets angry and shouts at people. As usual…

Disclaimer: Just in case any of you people out there are extremely stupid, I feel like I should let you know that I do not in any way, shape, or form own these characters. They belong to the oh-so lovely J.K. Rowling, who besides being a complete idiot in the matters of Harry romance, is a total genius. And seeing as how I am not blonde, British, or a genius in any way, then clearly, I'm not her. Now enjoy!

Chapter 1: Meeting in Diagon Alley

Harry was getting really annoyed by all the gawkers in Diagon Alley. "Really," he grumbled to himself, "you'd think that after five months they'd get over the whole 'Chosen One' shit." Unfortunately for him, they hadn't gotten over it – they were as obsessed as the day he originally defeated Voldemort. Even buying simple potions for himself caused numerous onlookers to openly stare, some even going so far as to point and mutter with each other. Frankly, Harry was getting sick of it. Some days, he just desperately wanted to get away from it all, to escape the magical world and move onto that of the Muggles. However, he had his family to think of. No, not the Dursleys. Despite their almost kind parting words, Harry hadn't spoken to them since that night he'd left Privet Drive, and he wasn't planning on it anytime soon. The family that Harry spoke of wasn't related to him by blood, but that didn't make them any less important. The Weasleys, Hermione included (officially, if Ron ever got over his irrational fear and finally proposed), have stuck with him through all the good times and bad – they were the constant in his life that he knew he could count on.

Speaking of constants, wasn't that Draco Malfoy slinking around the corner? He seemed to be hiding his face – I'd be hiding my face, too, if I were that bastard – but that blonde hair was unmistakably Malfoy, and seeing as how Lucius was serving an indeterminate time in Azkaban (now newly reformed, without Dementors), then it had to be Draco. Despite Harry's earlier thought about Draco being a bastard, he didn't really hold any grudges against the boy – well, man now. Draco was young and stupid in the war he fought half-heartedly in, and he only doing what he needed to save his parents. Knowing that parents were a precious commodity, Harry couldn't really begrudge him for doing what he did.

Nevertheless, a frown formed on Harry's face. Thinking about Malfoy always did that to him. He didn't want his mind to linger on the blond more than necessary. So with a shake of the head, he moved his eyes away from Malfoy's direction, and kept walking towards the apothecary.

Around 45 minutes later, after a very confusing conversation with the store clerk in which Harry tried to explain to him exactly what type of problems were ailing him, he finally started making his way back towards the Apparation point. He got distracted, however, by that familiar flash of blonde hair. Malfoy was heading in the direction Harry was coming from, and he had just come to terms with the fact that he'd have to acknowledge him so as to not seem rude, when all of a sudden Malfoy fell flat on his face.

Now from what Harry could remember from school, Malfoy was always poised and graceful, and falling for no apparent reason was something he did not do. He was contemplating what happened when the answer was made clear for him.

"Filthy Death Eater scum!" hissed a man with his wand pointed at Malfoy. The man was on the larger side, with a mustache that reminded Harry of Uncle Vernon's. Harry hated the man already. "Why don't you go join your precious daddy in Azkaban where you belong?" The man has an ugly, hateful look on his face, one that made Harry wonder if there was any possible way this wizard could be related to his uncle. Malfoy attempted to get back up, surprisingly without saying a word, when the man actually kicked him back down. "You deserve to nothing more than to lick these streets clean – it's the least you could do considering the Ministry's deemed you able to walk on them! And nobody wants to be where a Malfoy's been!" he continued his tirade, yelling in a very enthusiastic manner.

Harry looked around, shocked, wondering why nobody was doing anything about this. Some people were passing by, eyes downcast, trying to ignore the altercation. Other people had stopped and where watching the incident, some with curious eyes, the rest with these malicious smiles on their faces.

Looks like it's up to me to save the day again, Harry thought sarcastically. He walked up to the Malfoy, held out his hand, and, astoundingly, Malfoy accepted the helping hand up. The man opened his mouth in protest, but Harry beat him to it. "Is there a problem, sir?"

"Nothing you need to involve yourself in. Just havin' myself a friendly chat with the Malfoy fellow," he snapped back at Harry.

"Doesn't look very friendly to me," said Harry dryly.

"Yea, well. It's Malfoy. He don't exactly do friendly, if ya know what I mean." Now the man started looking frustrated that he couldn't continue what he began with Malfoy.

"No, I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't. So why don't you just head on home and I'll forget this whole incident ever happened," Harry replied, all in a falsely polite tone.

Now the man was really incensed, and he clenched his fists in what he clearly thought was a fear-inducing manner. "You listen here, buddy. I don't know who you think you are, tellin' me what to do with myself, but I'm tellin' you that I don't appreciate it! This Malfoy boy here was bein' a right git, and if I can't even defend myself against a Malfoy these days, then I don't know what this world's comin' to!" he exclaimed, his voice rising at the end in a pompous manner, as though he had made some grand proclamation. Unfortunately, some of the onlookers murmured their agreement, and nodded their heads with enthusiasm.

Malfoy, who was standing silently the whole time, watching the argument with quiet resignation, seemed ready to stutter his indignation, when Harry spoke up again.

"No, you listen here, buddy. Malfoy was doing nothing more than walking when you hexed him for no reason whatsoever, and as for who do I think I am, I'll tell you who I think I am. I think I'm Harry Potter, the bloody Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the Vanquisher of Voldemort, or whatever the hell you people call me these days!" Harry shouted, emphasizing his speech by pushing back his hair to show off the scar.

"O-oh-" began the stranger, who looked like he almost regretted his actions now (nobody wants to get on the bad side of the Savior!), but Harry wasn't done with his spiel yet.

"This is exactly the type of prejudice I died to stop, and this is how you people repay me? By doing exactly what Voldemort and his followers did? Don't you understand that two rights never make a wrong?! I hope you're ashamed of your actions! And as for the rest of you!" Harry turned around, looking at the continually growing crowd. "Why didn't any of you do anything to stop him? You saw what was going on, you knew it was wrong. But noo, you enjoyed it, didn't you? If you continue this behavior, you'll be just as bad as them!"

At this point, everyone in the crowd was staring at Harry, with fear on their faces, and some looked offended. (How can he compare them to the nasty Death Eaters?!) Never having fought in battle, they saw Harry as nothing more than their poster Golden Boy, always happy and smiling. Not this man who was now almost shaking with anger. Malfoy, on the other hand, was gaping at Harry with something akin to awe on his face, but he quickly wiped it off with a sneer as Harry turned to look at him.

"Potter," he stated coolly. "I suppose I owe you yet another one now."

"You don't owe me anything, Malfoy," snapped back Harry. "I didn't do this for you – I did it for justice. And by the way," he turned to the crowd, which was debating whether or not to stand there and continue to watch, or to go on with their undoubtedly mundane lives, "you guys can all leave now and go do whatever it is you were doing."

The crowd started slowly dispersing, whispering to each other. They couldn't believe that Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, had just defended Draco Malfoy, Death Eater scum and son of the right-hand man of Voldemort!

"You okay, Malfoy?" asked Harry. "He didn't hurt you when he kicked you, did he?"

"I'm fine, Potter. Nothing I can't handle," he answered. "And it's not like I'm not used to this," Draco muttered under his breath, fortunately not loud enough for Harry to hear.

"Still. It's not right! If this behavior continues, then pretty soon they'll be just as bad as the Death Eaters were, and we'll have another war on our hands!" Harry was really getting worked up now, throwing his hands up in exasperation. He looked as if someone had offended him personally by attacking Draco.

"I hardly think kicking at lousy, scumbag Death Eaters is going to lead into another war, Potter," said Draco with a roll of his eyes. "They're just doing what they think I deserve. And besides," he finished quickly before Harry could cut him off, "normally I can handle myself quicker than that. I'm just having a bit of an off-day today."

But Harry wasn't to be deterred with his answer. "You're not a lousy, scumbag Death Eater. I mean, sure, you were a Death Eater, and a pretty lousy one at that, and you may have had scumbag tendencies back in school, but that doesn't give them the rights to do whatever they like to you – an-and you don't deserve it!" Harry told him.

"Really, Potter, your words touch me," retorted Malfoy sarcastically. "But I never said I deserved it. I just said that they think that I deserve it, and who am I to argue with that thought?"

"Woah, Malfoy. Now you're just talking in circles," answered a confused Harry. "So let me get this straight – you don't deserve what they do to you, they just think you deserve it, but you don't argue with that thought? Aren't you just contradicting yourself?" Harry wrinkled his brow. He really was confused now.

"Clearly, Potter, my intelligence is too much for you to handle. Maybe we can continue this conversation another day when your wit is able to keep up with mine." Malfoy paused, a small smirk on his face. "But then again, that may never happen. Alas, I bid you adieu, and once again, thank you." And with that, Malfoy gave a little sort of a bow, leaving behind a very flustered and confused Harry in his space.

A/N: Alright, that's the end of the first chapter of my first fanfic ever! I'm sorry if this is totally horrible, and honestly, I'm not really sure where I'm going with it at the moment. I mean, clearly, I want Harry and Draco to get together, but I don't know if this will be EWE, or include the epilogue, or what will even cause them to get together, or if this is even any good and I should continue with it. But don't worry, if I even have one positive review, I promise to see this to the end! It's so upsetting when stories you like are never finished! Not that I'm saying anyone will like my story. But if you do happen to like my story, and leave me a lovely review, I'll be forever grateful. Even if you leave a review saying you despised it, well, then, include ways to make it better please? Lol. Oh, and I'm in need of a beta reader. If I'm even worthy of one. I have no idea. Anyways, this is one hell of an author's note! Let me just finish by saying don't expect the next chapter till sometime next week, after my exams are done. Enjoy!

~truehdlove