Disclaimer: much as I would love, to, I don't own any of these characters. JK Rowling does.
No flames – if you don't want to read about Harry and Malfoy together, don't read this!
A/N: well this is my first fic so be nice. Here goes…
Prologue
In the middle of the summer holidays, Draco Malfoy could be found with his mother at the dinner table in Malfoy Manor, chatting animatedly about all the comings and goings at Hogwarts since his first year. He was about to enter his sixth year, and had never been happier in his life. His father was finally imprisoned; although neither of them doubted that he would escape in time, they knew he would not be able to touch them. As soon as Lucious Malfoy had been named as a death eater, Narcissa Malfoy contacted Albus Dumbledore and told him her life story, beginning from the time she met Lucious.
He had not always been evil; that had been pure misfortune. Two years after their marriage, Lucious had crossed paths with none other than the most evil wizard of all time, Voldemort. He was unable to resist Voldemort and soon became an oppressive husband.
When Narcissa discovered she was pregnant, she had mixed feelings. She was naturally exited and happy to be having a child; yet she worried about her husband and her attitude to him. She named her son Draco, meaning Dragon, hoping that somehow his character would reflect his name. She hoped that one day her son would be able to stand up to her husband, as she had tried and failed so many times to do.
Draco Malfoy loved the muggle sport soccer, but he loved Quidditch more. He had hated himself for much longer than his 'arch-enemy' Harry Potter had hated him. He hated his 'friends' - if he had his way he would have been friends with Harry, Ron and Hermione. But he knew it could never happen. When he offered Harry friendship in their first year, it was because he sensed strength radiating from him; strength that could perhaps help Draco to overcome his father and free himself and his mother. But he became scared, and had to pretend he wanted nothing more in life than to serve Voldemort, become a mini-Lucious and be as snobby and evil as possible. The worst part though, was pretending that he hated Harry Potter.
When Harry had put his father in Azkaban, it was the happiest day of his life – if the thugs Crabbe and Goyle weren't there, he would have thanked Harry on the spot and offered allegiance. But he knew he had to keep up the act a little longer; he could formulate a plan during the holidays. A plan to clear his name and his conscience, a plan to live a free and happy life, to fight against evil and to earn the friendship of Harry Potter, the boy who was destined to save many lives, just as he had saved Draco's.