Title: Groundwire Remix
By: Midnight Unicorn

This is my challenge/counter/whatever you want to call it to Midnight Genius' Groundwire, which is a fine fic, just all the mush made me gag. This is my version of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter behind the scenes.

Each chapter takes place over a full year at Hogwarts, except the first part in italics which is when they are seventeen.

The underline/italics before each section tell you where in the book this could have happened (Canon is important to me). The page numbers are all from the hard-back American versions.

Warning: there will be slash later (it's a pairing fic after all) but the first three years/chapters are clean. I don't know how citrus-y it will get; I'll tell you when I get there. The rating is for what is to come.

Disclaimer: the usual, not mine, no money made. Hell, the title's hardly mine.

Please review, particularly mistakes you spot, and…on with the fic!

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I hate him for what he is to me, for how he makes me feel, for the things he has done to the people I love and my chosen family he had threatened again and again. I hate him more because I love him. But what I hate most is that I don't hate him at all.

Anywhere between pages 131 and 134

"Oof!"

"Watch it—oh, it's you, Potter."

Harry scowled at the blond he'd run into turning a corner, flexing his sore wrist as he sat up. "Nice to see you too, Malfoy. How's Goyle's finger?" He said it nastily but he actually wanted to know.

Malfoy picked up on that and physically recoiled from the dark-haired boy, quickly gathering scattered papers. "He's fine," he answered warily. "What do you care?"

"I don't," Harry replied hastily, shoveling his books and parchment into his bag. His curiosity got the best of him, though, and he paused, still half-crouched. "Malfoy, were you…were you trying to be nice to me in Diagon Alley?"

Malfoy froze for a moment, blind sided, and then scowled. "So? That was before I knew who you were." He threw his ink bottle into his bag and thrust himself to his feet.

"Exactly," Harry murmured as Malfoy strode away.

Page 143 or 144

"Looking forward to flying, Potter?" Malfoy announced his presence to the lost Gryffindor with the malicious query.

"Get lost, Malfoy," Harry snapped, trying to remember if the left or right turn would take him to the Gryffindor common room.

"You look like you already are," Malfoy sneered. Harry glared, confirming the assumption. "It seems the great Harry Potter isn't so great, after all."

"What are you doing here, then?" Harry demanded. Malfoy grimaced revealingly. "You're just as lost as I am. Don't go looking down your nose at me, you spoiled bully."

"Spoiled bully? That's the best you can manage?" Malfoy said, almost incredulous. "Pitiful. Take the left corridor until you reach the tapestry of Marcus the Selfish, then behind it is a staircase that goes down to the Entrance Hall."

Harry blinked, surprised. "Thanks." And went left.

Malfoy gaped after him; he had been telling the truth but he was surprised the green-eyed boy had believed him.

Page 152

Harry was still in a daze as he left the empty classroom. He made to go back outside, decided against it, turned toward the Great Hall and stopped, picking a blank stretch of wall to lean on. He let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his messy black hair, a reckless grin slowly uncurling on his mouth.

"I don't see what there is to smile about." Malfoy had come up on him silently, his pointed face strangely contrite.

"What do you know?" Harry dismissed, still giddy as his victory set in. "Who would think I had such a talent?"

"It's wasted if you get expelled." Malfoy said quietly and his discomfort particularly intrigued Harry. "I, uh…don't tell anyone, but I came to explain what happened."

Harry's first instinct was to dispel his peer's fears but he caught himself; he must not forget Malfoy was a bully and had put himself in this position. "Why?"

Malfoy scowled and scuffed his foot. "I don't know," he said abruptly, turning to go. "Just forget it. I don't care what happened to you."

"Well, that's fine since I'm not going to be expelled," Harry said loudly to the blonde's back.

Malfoy kept walking but his shoulders were a little more relaxed and Harry realized that the other was more than swagger and nastiness.

Page 166

"Why did you bother challenging me if you weren't going to bother showing up?"

Malfoy scowled just as darkly as Harry was when the Gryffindor confronted him between the library shelves. "Are you a complete idiot?" he hissed. "Why would I risk expulsion just because you called me a coward?"

"You are a coward, a treacherous coward." Harry wanted to shout at the blond but resisted in the library's hush.

"I'm a Slytherin." Malfoy's coldness brought the enraged boy up sharply. "We will do what is best for ourselves. You are a Gryffindor and by nature honorable and a glory-seeker."

"I don't care about glory," Harry snapped. "I've already got more than I can stand and I haven't done anything."

Unexpectedly Malfoy laughed at that but quickly muffled it. "That I can believe," he said with a faint, lingering smile. He shifted to pull a thick book from a shelf two above his head. "Here; this'll help you in Charms."

"Thanks," Harry accepted it distractedly. "I still don't see why you're brushing off last night based on our houses."

"Hasn't anyone explained anything to you?" Malfoy sounded genuinely surprised. "It's just how the school works. We shouldn't even be talking now; Gryffindors and Slytherins are like oil and water."

"I still don't get it," Harry insisted stubbornly.

Malfoy just shook his head and left to sign out his books.

Page 170

"You are somewhat talented."

Harry couldn't help throwing a grin over his shoulder at the blond following him to the abandoned locker room. Neither of them thought anything of a Slytherin in the Gryffindor locker room, or if they did neither commented. "I guess I am. Did you really do all those things you'd said before that flying lesson?"

"Mostly," Malfoy nodded. Then he smirked wryly. "Maybe a couple things were a little exaggerated; I really did almost run into a helicopter, but the pilot was a wizard."

Harry snickered, bending over a porcelain sink to scrub his sweaty face.

"Father was furious; he almost took away my broom." Malfoy continued. "Mother talked him out of it, though. You really didn't have any experience with Quidditch?"

Harry hesitated, and then shook his head. "My aunt and uncle didn't let me play sports much at all." he dried his hands.

"Why not? What'd they expect you to do all day?" Malfoy wasn't asking maliciously or seeking leverage, he was simply conversing.

Harry hesitated again; Malfoy wasn't Ron, he was a bully and a Slytherin, but just now they were as casual as they were with their dorm mates. Malfoy noticed his silence and hazarded a guess.

"They didn't want you around?" he ventured carefully and Harry nodded reluctantly. "I don't get it; I can think of half a dozen families—even a couple Slytherin families—who would've been honored to raise the infamous Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Why stick you with unwilling Muggles?"

Harry flinched. "Well, my mother was muggle-born. My aunt was her sister."

"Oh." Malfoy watched the other boy disappear behind a stall to change into clean robes. "I guess I knew that, but I always kind of thought about you as a pureblood; I think most people do. Potter is a known pureblood name."

"Well, aren't I still? Both my parents were witch and wizard."

Malfoy didn't feel particularly inclined to get into blood lineage. "I guess. I'm heading back."

"Right; can't be seen with a Gryffindor." Harry's voice was muffled as he tugged on a shirt.

"Exactly." He paused. "Do you want to practice some time?"

Harry frowned and leaned around the partition to analyze the blond. "Practice what?"

"Quidditch."

"With you?"

"I'm the only Seeker offering."

"You're a Seeker?"

"I will be."

Harry paused, considering. "Sure; why not?"

Page 180

"Potter! Are you an utter nutcase?" Harry could feel a grin tugging his mouth as Malfoy hailed him, Crabbe and Goyle abandoned. "What made you think you could take on a mountain troll? And how were you not expelled?"

"Must be Gryffindor bravery," Harry replied, the high of triumph returning with the memory. "Good for something it seems."

"Yeah, like dulling your survival instincts," Malfoy rebuffed.

"Hermione was in danger and it was our fault," Harry defended.

"What'd you do?" Malfoy asked, intrigued that Harry Potter had endangered another student.

"Ron and I…er, we went looking for her because she hadn't been at the feast, and we saw the troll, so we locked it in the bathroom." Harry had flushed a light pink of lingering embarrassment, stopping in the empty trophy room, scanning the awards idly. Malfoy was listening with fascination and a little bit of derisive humor. "We didn't know Hermione was in the bathroom as well, so we had to do something."

"You knocked it out," Malfoy added dryly.

"Actually that was Ron," Harry corrected. "I just distracted it."

"Just distracted it? Merlin, you are insane." There was almost awe alongside his scorn. Harry grinned. "Do you realize you should be dead, or at least expelled?"

"Saving Hermione gave us some credit," Harry pointed out.

"I'm sure," Malfoy agreed, mouth twisted oddly.

Also page 180

"Not fair; you have a better broom!" Malfoy complained loudly as the pair raced up and down and around the pitch.

"Why don't you ask daddy-dearest to send you yours?" Harry taunted, whizzing in circles around the blond like a demented satellite.

"Because I'm not everybody's favorite who can get away with breaking broom restriction rules." he retorted.

"You're Snape's favorite, what—whoa!" Harry jerked the broom upwards when Malfoy veered toward him sharply. "Hey!"

"Don't lose focus," Malfoy scolded. "And I'm not the Boy Who Lived; people are less inclined to give way for a spoiled…bully!" he emphasized the last word as he shot towards Harry. The smaller boy retaliated and successfully struck the fraying tail of Malfoy's broom, which had already been vibrating as they flew higher and higher. The blond lost his grip and slid off his seat, dangling from the broom by his fingertips.

He wasn't there for more than a moment before Harry realized and about-faced to pull up under him, leaning back so Malfoy could balance on the handle of his Nimbus. "Oops." he said sheepishly as the Slytherin glared with enough venom to make a snake jealous.

"I can't keep riding this stupid thing," Malfoy grumbled, dragging his 'borrowed' school broom to a level he could mount it.

"I'll let you ride my Nimbus if you promise to discourage the Slytherin team from sabotaging ours," Harry offered recklessly.

Malfoy's gray eyes went wide. "Seriously?" Harry nodded. "I will. Race you to the ground!" he pushed the tired old Cleansweep faster than when it was new and the pair touched down at the same time.

Malfoy almost didn't give Harry time to dismount before taking his seat and shooting into the darkening sky. Harry couldn't help grinning as Malfoy let out a resounding whoop of elation as he zipped around the pitch, looking like a Golden Snitch in the final fanfare of the sun's bright glow with red and blue streaks vying in the background.

Harry moved to mount the Cleansweep and join the blond when he paused in contemplation. He could not see the face of Draco Malfoy as he flew fast and free but judging by his smooth, controlled movement he could certainly picture it. He wondered if this was what he looked like as he looped through the sky, like time had no meaning and absolutely nothing mattered.

That sunset seemed to last forever.

Page 181

"Cold, cold, cold," Malfoy mumbled, stomping through the frosted grass just outside the school. He'd been bitten by a plant in Herbology and Sprout had sent him to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had said he could return to class but Sprout hadn't instructed him to so he was stuck outside, waiting to go to lunch.

"Don't you have a class?" He was surprised to see Harry strolling towards him, hands tucked in his pockets, cheeks reddened by the cold wind.

"Some plant bit me," Malfoy explained, holding up his lightly bandaged hand. "Now I've got nothing to do but freeze my arse off. What about you?"

"I was visiting Hagrid."

"Why?" Harry looked confused. Malfoy glanced away. "I mean…er, that's nice." He couldn't have sounded less sincere if he'd tried.

"D'you have something against Hagrid?" Malfoy could tell Harry was ready to flare up in defense of his friend.

"No, it's just…" he paused, choosing his words. "I don't understand why you'd choose to hang around with a grounds keeper when he's basically a servant. I mean, you're Harry Potter."

Harry seemed very interested in the ground as he answered in a low voice. "Hagrid allowed me to get away from the Dursley's. I only know who I am, what I am, because of him. He's my friend; he bought me Hedwig."

"Oh," Malfoy said faintly. "Okay."

Harry raised his gaze. "Hermione taught us a Warming Charm. Want to learn it?"

Page 184

Harry stood outside the Great Hall, ahead of the rest of the student body but the last of his team to go down to the field. He was trying to convince his shaking legs to actually step through the great oak entrance doors.

"Potter." he almost didn't hear the low call. His legs were much more willing to turn around.

"Malfoy." he greeted numbly. He thought Malfoy's sneer almost quirked towards amusement. Then he glanced around warily.

"Don't worry," he said quickly, but sincerely. "You can do loops around anyone out there. And take this," he pressed a napkin into Harry's hand and backed off hastily.

Harry watched him take the marble stairs two at a time and then looked down at the napkin. The grease from the sausages was already slicking his hand through the paper. Not feeling particularly hungry he bit into a link; it was thick and greasy in his mouth, but he found he could walk at a steady pace to the distant Quidditch pitch.

Page 194

"Oi, Potter!" Malfoy called when the victorious Gryffindor passed him on his way to Transfiguration two days after his first Quidditch match. Harry stopped. "Told you you'd be fine."

"Just congratulate me already," Harry teased.

"Why would I ever congratulate a Gryffindor on anything?" the blond said archly.

What was meant to be a light comment brought Harry smashing back to the House divisions. "How about for staying on a bucking broom," he said darkly.

"Yeah, that was strange," Malfoy frowned thoughtfully, shifting his bag to his other shoulder. "Pretty impressive bit of dark Magic; it wasn't anyone from our team, though, I know that for a fact. I've been asking but no one is taking credit."

"Wait, you're trying to find out who tried to kill me?" Harry gaped, thoroughly startled.

Malfoy looked surprised as well. "Kill you? I thought someone just jinxed it to make you lose focus and look stupid."

Harry opened his mouth to spill his suspicions about Snape, but Malfoy could hardly believe that someone wanted him dead, let alone that it could be his own House Head. "I guess you're right," he mumbled.

"Don't be so melodramatic, Potter. Not everything is life and death, you know."

Page 199

"Malfoy…"

"What Potter?" His gaze darted up and down the corridor; there was no one else, but that wouldn't last.

"Happy Christmas," Harry said sincerely.

Malfoy blinked, surprised, and then one corner of his mouth quirked in an amused twist. "And to you." He switched his trunk to his other hand. "I really am sorry, you know." Harry tilted his head in confusion. "About not being welcome at home."

Harry shrugged. "This is home," he said simply. "See you later."

"Yeah. G'bye."

Page 216

"Would you believe the first thing Oliver does when we get back from holiday is practice?" Harry complained genially when he spotted Malfoy as he left the locker room last.

"Nice to see you to," the blond smirked. "Have fun?"

"Most definitely. There's nothing more entertaining than zooming around in sub-zero air, two hundred feet above seven feet of snow and ice," Harry replied aridly.

Malfoy snorted in amusement. "I meant over the holidays."

Harry grinned, then shuddered as cold wind blasted down his collar, teeth chattering audibly. He drew his wand and cast a Warming Charm over them both. "It was fantastic; wizarding party crackers are much better than Muggle ones, although I lost my mice," he added regretfully.

Malfoy snickered, but sobered quickly. "Did you get any presents?" he actually sounded slightly anxious.

Harry smiled faintly. "Yeah; I was kind of surprised."

Malfoy returned an equally small smile. "Good. Though I expect I got more than you did."

Harry rolled his eyes but conceded. They stood in the cold and bantered because their interaction was not welcome in the castle's distant warmth.

Page 221

"I have a question for you," Harry murmured to Malfoy through clenched teeth. He had doubled back after potions, telling Ron and Hermione he had forgotten a book. Crabbe and Goyle had been conspicuously absent during class.

"No, I don't know why Snape is refereeing," Malfoy said automatically, gray eyes cold on Harry's bright emerald. "No one does."

"While I'm dying for an answer to that, that's not my question," Harry replied dryly, catching Malfoy's arm to stop his rapid strides. The blond shook him off impatiently but waited. "Could you teach me the Leg-Locker Curse?"

Malfoy rocked back a step, blind-sided. "What?" Then his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Is this a round-about path of revenge for me catching Longbottom?"

Harry shook his head. "I'd've already done something if that were the case. Honestly…" he flushed slightly with embarrassment. "I'm terrible at Charms. You only can't tell because I don't get as flustered and frustrated as everyone else. I need help."

"Well, I knew that," Malfoy teased. Harry rolled his eyes. "Sure. Trophy room, half an hour after curfew?"

"No snitching," Harry stipulated warily.

Malfoy sneered and agreed, hurrying away. Ron complained about how long Harry had taken as he dove into his lunch.

Page 228

"Your problem isn't that you're not good at Charms," Malfoy said to him, breathing hard through his nose. The full moon was their only light, illuminating the Quidditch pitch eerily in the late winter chill. "Or anything else for that matter."

"Huh?" Harry inquired elegantly from his prone position on the frosted grass, chest rising and falling swiftly.

Malfoy, straightened, slowing his harsh intake of air. "You just don't care. If you focused and actually cared you'd probably have grades like Granger's." Harry laughed breathlessly, disbelieving. "I'm serious," Malfoy insisted stubbornly.

"There is not a first year that can compete with Hermione," Harry said firmly. He rolled onto his stomach. "Except at chess." He sat back on his heels, hands braced on his knees.

"Still, you're not stupid or incompetent."

"High praise," Harry remarked.

"Honest assessment," Malfoy countered seriously. "But don't let it go to your head and—"

"Don't tell anyone, I know," Harry sighed habitually, pushing himself up. "Let's go over something else."

"Like?"

"Snape."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Snape? Why?"

"D'you know if he'd got something against Quirrell?"

The blond frowned. "Only what everyone knows, the Quirrell got the job Snape wants. Did something happen?"

"Sort of. He and Snape were arguing—actually Snape was terrifying Quirrell after our match against Hufflepuff."

"What about?" Malfoy asked keenly.

Harry almost almost told him about everything; the Sorcerer's Stone, Nicolas Flamel, Fluffy, Snape, his invisibility cloak…

"Couldn't tell; Snape was too quiet and Quirrell was a stuttering mess, but it looked interesting. They were part-way into the Forbidden Forest." Harry replied, casual and light.

"Hm." Malfoy intoned, frowning thoughtfully. "Strange."

"Yeah."

Page 235

"Malfoy!

The blond turned neutrally to meet Harry's blazing emerald eyes. "What Potter? I have a class to get to."

"What are you going to do about Hagrid's…pet?" Harry demanded, caution overtaking anxiety as he glanced around for eavesdroppers.

"You mean the—" he began, sneering. Harry jumped forward as though to cover his mouth, hissing silence, green eyes narrowed to slits.

"Don't say it," Harry growled, gaze darting about. "Please, Malfoy, don't tell anyone. Please."

"I won't," Malfoy assured in a low tone, utterly serious. "But you have to convince him to get rid of it. You could get expelled for concealing it."

"Yeah, I know," Harry sighed tiredly, running his fingers through his unruly black tangles. Then he laughed weakly and held out his hand. "I'm so nervous I'm shaking."

"Or you could be hungry. You hardly pick at your meals," Malfoy pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess. You're really not going to tell?"

"Really."

They didn't bother with farewells; people were approaching. It wasn't until he sat down to supper that Harry realized Malfoy had clearly implied he didn't want the Gryffindor expelled.

Page 245

Harry and Malfoy ran into each other quite by accident after supper a couple of evenings after they'd been caught out of bed because of Norbert.

"Why?" Harry asked, too drained to be angry, though that bubbled under the numbness.

"I had to," Malfoy sad, just as detached; they wandered, aimless and slow in the direction of the library, enough space between them for three students to pass. "It was actually Pansy who found the letter; if I didn't claim the glory she would've gone to Snape and you would've lost more than fifty points from Gryffindor. I didn't plan to do anything, but I couldn't stay in my dormitory."

"We heard you tell McGonagall when she caught you." It was hard to guess Harry's reaction.

Malfoy flinched visibly. "So sorry I'm not as quick-witted as you," he muttered caustically. "I couldn't come up with a lie. And if she believed me, well…"

"You're a Slytherin," Harry murmured. "You'll do what's best for you."

For once, Malfoy was ashamed of that.

Page 262

Harry expected Malfoy to avoid him, but the blond practically cornered him between the library and Gryffindor Tower the day after their detention.

"I'm sorry," he said outright. "I just—"

"It's…fine," Harry said slowly. "I would've run, too, but I was too scared. I wish I had run."

"Who was it? Did you see—?" he frowned half in disappointment and half in suspicion when Harry shook his head quickly.

"They had the hood up." He knew better than to tell Malfoy he though it had been Voldemort under the cloak. "And a centaur came and chased…it away."

"Centaur? But I thought—"

"A couple other of his kind scolded him for saving me," Harry continued.

"Did something else happen?"

"No." Malfoy didn't believe him but he couldn't pursue his suspicions.

They hurried in opposite directions as a couple chatty fourth years came around the corner.

Also page 262

"Gyah!"

"Look out!"

Books tumbled to the floor, though this time they stayed on their feet. "Merlin, Potter, watch where you're going!" Malfoy snapped crossly.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled as they stooped to gather their books and papers. "You're in a hurry," he observed, then a wince crossed his pale features.

"A bit. Snape's promised to review with us one last time before the exam—are you alright?" He finally noticed Harry's frown and rubbing his lightening bolt scar.

"My scar hurts," he admitted thoughtlessly. "I've a headache."

"You look peaky; have you been sleeping well?"

"Not really; I've been having nightmares. Nerves I guess."

"I guess…"

"You should go," Harry said quickly. "Snape won't appreciate you being late."

"Yeah, see you later."

Sometimes Harry wondered why they bothered. They didn't have much in common, their meetings were confrontational or accidental and their only connection was their love of flying. And no one would ever accept them as friends. But then he thought of Diagon Alley and remembered why he tried, but he still wondered why Draco Malfoy bothered.

Pages 267 and 268

"But this is important!"

Malfoy paused, held his place and leaned toward the corner.

"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?" That was McGonagall. Why was Potter arguing with his Head of House?

"Look Professor—it's about the Sorcerer's Stone—"

Malfoy's gray eyes went wide with recognition and his hands flew to his mouth. Of course he had heard of the Stone but Potter was talking like it was here. He heard what sounded like books tumbling to the ground and an audible gasp from unflappable Minerva McGonagall confirming his supposition.

"How do you know—?"

"Professor, I think—I know that Sn—that someone's going to try to steal the Stone," he said in a low rush to conceal his almost-slip, but Malfoy wasn't an idiot. He was going to say Snape. "I've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore."

"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," McGonagall said stiffly. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone but rest assured no one can possibly steal it, it is too well protected."

If Malfoy knew Potter, the Gryffindor wouldn't be appeased.

"But Professor—"

"Potter, I know what I'm talking about. I suggest you all go outside and enjoy the sunshine."

Malfoy had to back-pedal fast as McGonagall stormed in the direction of his corner.

Page 271

Malfoy drew in a shaky breath, then set his quill to the scrap of parchment.

Professor Dumbledore—

The Stone is in danger. Please tell no one you received this.

He had only just learned the Stone was in the school but for once he listened to his gut which said Potter was right and someone would try to steal the Stone in Dumbledore's absence.

"Hurry," he whispered to his eagle owl as he fastened the hastily scribbled note to its leg and released it. It vanished swiftly.

"Draco?" He rounded sharply on Pansy Parkinson.

"What?" he snapped.

"What are you doing up here?" Pansy wasn't shy but his unusual anger made her meek.

"Writing home," he growled, pushing past her. "Leave me alone."

He did not need to be around anyone as he struggled to reconcile his rash act to aid a Gryffindor when he was the purest of Slytherins next to Salazar's blood heirs.

Page 295

Malfoy eased open the door to the hospital ward and slipped in, grateful for once for his slight build. There was only one bed occupied, but he couldn't see the patient through the stacks of candy and chocolate.

He was almost afraid to narrow the distance but he borrowed Gryffindor bravery and strode closer.

Potter was small and colorless against the linen hospital sheets except his scar which was livid on his white skin. He looked strangely lacking without his stupid round glasses. Malfoy bit down on the urge to find and replace them.

There were light bandages on his hands, but that was nothing compared to the rumors of mutilation and maiming sweeping through the school within the tales of his heroic rescue of the Sorcerer's Stone.

Malfoy briefly touched one wrapped hand. "Get better, Harry," he whispered to the darkness and the silence.

He checked himself from running out because that would make too much noise.

In the far corner of the ward, gold half-moon spectacles glinted over blue eyes twinkling even brighter.

Page 304

"This is becoming annoyingly common," Malfoy remarked, regaining his balance. He'd stumbled back to avoid colliding with Harry. "Are you in a hurry?"

"I'm going to be late for the feast," Harry fretted.

"No one will care; you can make a grand entrance." Harry scowled. "I know; you don't want a grand entrance. Still, you can be fashionable."

Harry looked rather irritated, but then he deflated. "I heard Slytherin won the House Cup. Congratulations."

Malfoy couldn't quite smother a pleased grin. "Thanks. You never know; maybe next year you'll come in second."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Because of course we'll never beat Slytherin?"

"Exactly. I gotta go. Pansy will be looking for me. See you at the Feast."

"See you."

"Oh, and Potter," Harry looked up as Malfoy walked backwards. "If you'd asked me about Nicolas Flamel I would've told you about the Stone. Mother made sure I was familiar with all famous wizards."

He smirked at Harry's frustrated groan and turned the right way.

Page 307

They met accidentally in the Owlery as they retrieved their respective owls.

"How'd you do on your exams?" Harry asked cautiously, feeding Hedwig an owl treat.

"Well enough," Malfoy answered stiffly. He was clearly still upset about Gryffindor swooping in to steal the House Cup. "Father won't be pleased that a muggle-born beat me at everything, though."

"Hermione beat everyone," Harry pointed out, then sighed. "Look, Malfoy; I am please that we managed to get the Cup, but I'm truly sorry we stole it from you like that."

"I know you are," Malfoy snapped sullenly. "But I doubt anyone else is. It isn't right." He kicked the Owlery wall. "Dumbledore is supposed to be fair and impartial about the Houses. It couldn't be clearer he favors Gryffindor."

Harry wanted to argue that that wasn't true, but he couldn't, really. And Malfoy knew it, too.

They stood in silence, petting their agitated owls, not quite looking at each other.

"So what did Longbottom do?" Malfoy asked suddenly.

"Tried to keep us from going out and losing more points," Harry said with a small grin. "Hermione ended up Body-Binding him. Dumbledore was right about that; it takes a lot of courage to stand up to your friends. He should have gotten the sixty points; I just got lucky."

Malfoy smirked ironically. "I always forget you're Mr. Modest. You represent everything Gryffindor stands for; everyone else just forgets that includes humility."

Harry flushed. "Well, you're not so bad," he said. "Slytherin just has a bad name and self-preservation issues. But," he ran a hand through his hair, meeting emerald and silver eyes reluctantly. "If Slytherin is always passed over for Gryffindor like that, I guess it's no surprise."

Malfoy was stunned, and Harry left with a quiet good-bye before either of them said anything more awkward.

­/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

No joke, when I write the tender stuff, like the hospital scene and the first flying on the Quidditch pitch my hand cramps up. Seriously, it's ridiculous. I don't know how I'm going to soften them into a couple.

That's it for chapter one and I make no promises for how soon I will update. I hope to get all six chapters out before July twenty-first.

Once again, please review, and I hope to see you next chapter!

(Update: Thank you Midnight Genius for pointing out errors)