Chapter 1

Harry was sitting at the dining room table at Number 4 Privet Drive listening to Uncle Vernon going on about a potential deal he was going to make that night. He groaned quietly when Dudley and Aunt Petunia went over everything they were going to say when Mr. and Mrs. Mason came. They sounded like a pair of simpering fools. What wouldn't he give now for a message from Hogwarts? From any witch or wizard? He'd almost be glad of a sight of his archenemy, Draco Malfoy, just to be sure it hadn't all been a

dream…*

"BOY! LISTEN TO ME WHEN I TALK TO YOU!"

Harry was startled out of his thoughts by Uncle Vernon's loud, blustering voice, not knowing that his unspoken wish would soon be granted.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"What will you be doing while we are with the Masons?" Harry sighed dejectedly.

"I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there." What a wonderful way for him to be spending his birthday. At least before he had gotten toothpicks and old socks. This time no one had even acknowledged that it was his birthday at all.

"Precisely." Uncle Vernon sneered. He walked out of the kitchen, his monstrous belly pushing Harry against the counter as he passed. Harry rubbed his hand over his face in annoyance and went up to his room to pretend he wasn't there.

Harry got into his room, and closed the door, muttering under his breath. Forehead against the door, he sighed again. Why hadn't his friends written to him? The room was dark and Harry wasn't known for being the neatest of people, so he turned on the lights just to be safe. He turned and was about to throw himself onto his bed when he saw he wasn't alone.

Harry managed not to shout out, but it was a close thing. The little creature on the bed had large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. Harry knew instantly that this was what had been watching him out of the garden hedge that morning when he had been sprucing up the garden for Uncle Vernon's guests.

As they stared at each other, Harry heard Dudley's voice from the hall.

"May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?"

The creature slipped off the bed and bowed so low that the end of its long, thin nose touched the carpet. Harry noticed that it was wearing what looked like an old pillowcase, with rips for arm-and leg-holes. It was absolutely filthy. Harry's mind wandered and he wondered what Aunt Petunia would have said if she could have seen the creature standing before him.

"Er — hello," said Harry nervously.

"Harry Potter!" said the creature in a high-pitched voice Harry was sure would carry down the stairs. "So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir… Such an honor it is…"

"Th-thank you," said Harry, edging along the wall and sinking into his desk chair, next to Hedwig, who was asleep in her large cage. He wanted to ask, "What are you?" but thought it would sound too rude, so instead he said, "Who are you?"

"Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf," said the creature.

"Oh — really?" said Harry. "Er — I don't want to be rude or anything, but — this isn't a great time for me to have a house-elf in my bedroom."

Aunt Petunias high, false laugh sounded from the living room. Harry winced at the unpleasant sound. The elf hung his head.

"Not that I'm not pleased to meet you," said Harry quickly, "but, er, is there any particular reason you're here?"

"Oh, yes, sir," said Dobby earnestly. "Dobby has come to tell you, sir… it is difficult, sir… Dobby wonders where to begin…"

"Sit down," said Harry politely, pointing at the bed.

To his horror, the elf burst into tears — very noisy tears. Harry's eyes widened. Had he offended it somehow? Was he not supposed to ask it to sit? Sometimes the magical world got on his nerves, especially when it was going to get him in trouble.

"S-sit down!" he wailed. "Never… never ever…"

Harry thought he heard the voices downstairs falter.*

"Shhhhhhhhh!" Harry tried to put his hands over the house elf's mouth to get it to be quiet. Dobby dodged Harry's hands and tried to bang his head against the closest surface, which happened to be Harry's bedroom door. Harry heard everything go silent in the living room. Holding his breath, Harry listened and heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.

Shoving the house elf away from him, Harry glared at Dobby accusingly.

"Are you trying to get me killed?" The large green eyes filled up with tears as he threw himself at Harry's feet, sobbing. Harry was both annoyed and exasperated. Was this a regular thing with house elves or was this one just special?

"Not get Harry killed! Never get Harry killed." He sniveled. He wiped his nose on the filthy pillowcase he was wearing and Harry's own nose crinkled in mild disgust. Suddenly looking determined, Dobby stood abruptly and grabbed Harry's hand.

"Harry Potter is coming with me." Before Harry could say anything and just as the door to his room opened, revealing a furious Uncle Vernon, he had the odd sensation of being pulled through a tube, and his room disappeared.

Draco was sitting in his room, reading a quidditch magazine by wandlight, lazily turning the pages when there was a sudden pop to his right. He had just been reading about the Chudley Cannons losing to Puddlemere United for the tenth time in a row. Sitting up rapidly on his bed, Draco looked around brandishing his wand. Not seeing or hearing anything, he felt a cold chill of fear go down his spine. He got off the bed on the left side and made his way to the door, facing the direction he had heard the sound from when suddenly the lights in his room all turned on at once.

Draco blinked until his eyes accustomed themselves to the sudden brightness. Oh, he was going to give the intruder a stern hexing! Squinting, he looked around. Standing on the other side of his bed was the house elf Dobby. Draco sighed and lowered his wand.

"Honestly Dobby! What were you thinking! I almost jinxed—" There was a cough and Dobby looked away from Draco and onto the floor, seemingly concerned. As he rounded the bed to see who else was in his room, Draco spotted a messy head of dark hair.

"POTTER?" he exclaimed, for it was indeed the boy-who-lived lying on the ground next to his bed trying to catch his breath. He looked at Draco warily but saw the other boy was too shocked to do much of anything and turned to glare at Dobby.

"You are trying to kill me, aren't you? Why did you do that?" he turned and looked at Draco again. "Why did you bring me here?"

The shock having worn off, Draco was starting to get annoyed. All he wanted to do was curl up in bed and read more about the stunning losses of the garishly orange-clad quidditch team. Feeling even grumpier about being ignored, Draco interrupted Dobby's explanation, sneering.

"Dobby is our house elf, this is my room, and I am going to bed. Have Dobby show you the door." He turned away as he said the last bit, going to turn off the lights and go back to his late night reading. Dobby appeared in front of him, wringing his ears and his huge eyes watering.

"Please Master Draco. Master Draco has always been kind to Dobby. Please let Dobby explain." Draco pursed his lips and looked from Dobby to Harry and back.

"Fine." But only because I like you. He strode back to the edge of his bed and sat huffily. He looked down on the other side of the bed to see Potter still sitting there, eyes glazed over like an idiot.

"Do get off the floor Potter. It is terribly uncouth to sit on the floor when there are chairs and beds and such." He smirked and Harry rolled his eyes as he got up and sat next to the giant blond prat.

Dobby stood there, still wringing his ears as if they were wet towels and his knees were shaking so badly Harry wondered how he was still standing.

"Please forgive me Master Draco. Dobby didn't know what to do. There is danger at Hogwarts this year. Dobby had to protect Harry. Since Harry is Master Draco's friend, Dobby brought him here!" he squeaked.

"Danger at Hogwarts?" Draco asked curiously while Harry snorted and said,

"Draco's friend?" Draco's cheeks flushed and he looked away from both of the people in his room. He contemplated what could have Dobby so scared that was happening at Hogwarts. It was a school after all. What could possible happen there? Harry stared at him, curious at the other boy's previous behavior. He too was wondering what could possibly be going on at Hogwarts that was worse then last year's fiasco with Quirrell. All of them were caught up in their own thoughts and Dobby was busy waiting for the two boys to pay attention when they heard footsteps drawing nearer and nearer.

Draco paled as he recognized the footsteps. Dobby squeaked with pure horror reflected in his eyes and disappeared. Harry looked at Draco, unsure of what to do. Of course Potter hasn't given full thought to where he is, Draco thought bitterly. He took a deep breath and dove into action. As quickly as he could, Draco shoved Potter under the blankets and pulled them over both him and Harry. Harry was absolutely still. This night wasn't going at all as he had planned. He thought he might just sit in his room until the Mason's had left, then sneak down to the kitchen for some dinner. He had not expected to be kidnapped, taken to Draco Malfoy, and manhandled under a blanket!

As the footsteps stopped in front of the door, Draco pulled the unresponsive boy a little closer to him, hoping his father wouldn't notice that Draco seemed to have gained a companion that night.

The door opened and Lucius Malfoy stood there gazing into his son's room. His study was down the hall and he could have sworn he had heard noises coming from his son's room. His narrowed grey eyes scanned the room, aided by the light in the hallway. Draco held his breath, counting down until is father left, his own calming technique. Harry remained unmoving. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, though Draco seemed to have put on a little weight. Well, he was a growing boy after all. He closed the door and returned to his study.

Both of the boys released sighs of relief. Draco pulled the cover off of their heads and lit his wand. Harry was extremely pale and was trembling. Draco felt the stirrings of pity for his self-proclaimed arch nemesis. Harry wanted nothing more than to go back to the Dursleys. No matter how many days they were going to starve him for, it was better than being in the house with someone who potentially wanted him dead. And he wasn't talking about Draco. Seeing Potter about to get out of the bed, Draco grabbed his arm and pulled him back down.

"Not tonight Potter. I'd rather like to get to sleep if you don't mind." He said snottily. Whispering a quick nox, Draco extinguished his wand and put it under his pillow. Harry lay down, still unnerved. This had gotten weirder and weirder and now he was sharing a bed with someone he was sure he hated. The only thing worse was that he hadn't gotten any birthday wished from his so called friends, or anyone he knew. Turning away from Draco, Harry felt empty inside until the other boy spoke.

In a voice so quiet Harry was scarce sure he heard him correctly, Draco said, "Oh, and Potter? Happy Birthday." With that, he too rolled over and promptly fell asleep, Harry following soon after.

Harry opened his eyes the next morning, expecting to be in his bedroom at Number 4. Over his head, rather then the sickly sweet pink ceiling Aunt Petunia insisted was salmon, was a dark green canopy of fabric that made him think of his bed at Hogwarts. He rolled onto his side and saw the last thing he expected: a lump under the covers that was clearly another person. Unfortunately, Harry couldn't tell who because they were cocooned so deeply under the duvet he couldn't even see the top of their head. Obviously he wasn't home anymore and there were no clues around the room as to where he was and with whom.

While he was taking in his surroundings, he heard a soft popping sound and turned towards the door. It was Dobby. Memories of last night came back to Harry and he realized with horror that the other person in the bed was none other than his archenemy, Draco Malfoy. The soft pop must have woken Draco because he sat up, the covers falling into his lap, and he rubbed his eyes and flicked his hair stubbornly out of his face.

"Dobby?" he asked in a voice still groggy from sleep. The house elf approached his master's side of the bed nervously. Draco flicked Dobby gently on the ear and soundly chastised him for bringing in guests unannounced and while he was in his pajamas to boot. Harry blocked out the noise once he realized Malfoy wasn't going to become violent towards the house elf and looked around the room instead, finally looking instead of scouting.

It seemed like a nice room, with dark, velvet curtains pulled over the large windows. There was a writing desk on his side of the bed that had Draco's school books and pieces of parchment on it. Across from the bed was a door he assumed led to the bathroom. Rather then the Slytherin green he expected, Draco's walls were a light crème color and the carpet on the floor was a dark red that matched the velvet curtains exactly. Aunt Petunia would have killed to meet the Malfoy's interior designer, Harry thought. He was so caught up in his image of Aunt Petunia begging Draco to tell her and him asking her to kiss his shoes, the blond in question had to clear his throat twice, something that is wholly undignified, to get his attention.

"Dobby was asking what Harry Potter wants for breakfast!" The elf squeaked eagerly. Harry looked at the elf blankly. Draco snorted in amusement, rolled his eyes and told Dobby to bring the same for both of them. Getting out of bed, Draco stretched and sat at his desk before he addressed Harry.

"The bathroom is over there," he pointed to the door across from the bed, "so you can wash up. I sent Dobby back to wherever you came from to get your clothes and school stuff. He said you'd be staying here for the rest of the summer." Harry nodded, not really listening past the 'wash up' part. He desperately wanted a shower. Draco didn't want to tell Harry that it was him who had decided that Harry was staying after what Dobby had told about everything he had heard at the Muggle's house.

He took out a quill, dipped it in ink and started writing on one of the many pieces of parchment on the desk thinking about what he would say to his father. He was going to speak to him in person, but it was always good to have many different arguments when trying to get Lucius Malfoy to do what you want.

Harry got up and went to the bathroom, not expecting to see what he did. It was enormous! The bathtub was the size of a small swimming pool. The bathroom itself was the size of the Dursley's living room and kitchen combined. Harry wondered what a person would use all that space for. He moved to the center of the room and right in front of him popped up three large mirrors, arranged around him so he could see himself from every angle. Figures, he thought, smiling to himself. He used the toilet and washed his hands, and without any other distractions, made his way over to the giant bathtub. He turned one of the faucets and water that smelled like lavender came out. Harry took a deep breath and felt every muscle in his body relax. Maybe this wasn't going to turn out to be such a horrible summer after all. He took off his clothes as the bath filled up and got in and turned off the water, siting back and relaxing.

It was just the perfect temperature. Not too hot or too cold like his baths back at the Dursley's. He washed himself and lathered his hair and dipped himself under the water to rinse it out. He was even tempted to swim a few laps before he laughed at himself and got out. He wrapped himself in one of the fluffy towels hanging to the side and sighed in contentment. Turning back to the tub he realized that had no idea how to drain it and couldn't see the plug to the bath through the soapy water, but saw it was all for naught. It turned out that the bath began draining itself since he had gotten out.

Wrapped from head to toe in the towel, Harry remembered that he had no clothes and cursed himself for not waiting until his things had come from the Dursley's. Grudgingly, he left the bathroom and saw that there was a pair of pants and a t-shirt draped over the side of the bed over which he had slept, and both of them were his. In front of the bed was also a dark trunk with the golden initials HP on it, just above the lock. Harry heard a contented hoot come from the direction of Draco's desk and was taken aback by the sight in front of him. Draco was sitting on his chair the wrong way, legs on either side of the back and was feeding owl treats to Hedwig who was perched right in front of him. She fluttered over to Harry and promptly landed on his head, looking him in the eyes. She was almost upside down.

Deciding this image was all too hilarious, Draco burst out laughing at the image of Harry in a towel with an owl on his head. His whole face lit up when he laughed and Harry just stared, dumbstruck. Sobering, Draco waved a hand at Harry's trunk.

"Dobby brought your things. I had him expand the wardrobe, so you can put some of your clothes in it." Harry nodded and gave Draco a small smile. Hedwig hooted.

Draco went into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Harry started to walk to wards his clothes, Hedwig fluttering her wings ever once in a while to keep her balance. Eventually, she got sick of the swaying and flew to the top of the canopy that covered Draco's bed and watched Harry dress. The jeans fit better than they usually did and Dudley's old shirt fit him less like a muumuu and more like a tunic.

"Dobby!" he called. The elf appeared, smiling. "Did you shrink my clothes?" Dobby shook his head.

"Master Draco is the one who shrank Harry Potter's clothes! They are being too big!" Harry nodded, lost in thought once again. This how Draco found him when he came back into the room, fully dressed. Harry had one arm in the sleeve of his shirt, the other was still by his side while his head was in the proper hole. Draco waved his hand in front of Harry's face.

"Earth to Potter! You might want to get dressed all the way. And maybe pull on a jumper too." Harry startled at the sound of his voice and resumed getting dressed. As he pulled his most recent Weasley jumper over his head he mumbled,

"Thanks for shrinking my stuff, Malfoy." Draco shrugged nonchalantly at the thanks.

"You're a guest, it's the least I can do." In fact, it really was the least he could do. Draco felt that he had slightly misjudged Harry before. Of course the boy was still a prat and Draco still didn't like him, but it was less heated than before. When Dobby had come back from getting Harry's trunk, he had told Draco what he had heard the Muggles talking about. Apparently they were 'glad the freak was gone' and that it was a 'good riddance to be rid of that vermin'. Draco had assumed Harry had been living like he had, with someone who cared about him and pampered him and loved him. Apparently not.

Grabbing hold of Harry's arm, Draco pulled him to the door. Opening it, he looked both ways before exiting. Seeing neither of his parents, he pulled Harry after him. They ran down the stairs and down two or three hallways before Harry spoke.

"Where…exactly…are we…going?" he panted.

"To the kitchens for breakfast, you great ninny," he called over his shoulder. "My parents can't see you and we can get answers from that blasted elf!"

Harry was dragged into the kitchen, and what a kitchen it was. Again, it was enormous and was probably equipped with every possible cooking instrument and utensil, magic or non-magic. Harry felt like he would love to just come and live in there. He honestly loved cooking, even when it was forced on him. He felt it was the only thing he was really any good at that was his own. Draco gave a wide grin at Harry's awe.

"My parents never come in here. It's bit like my secret haven. You won't be found here in a hurry."

"Your secret haven?" Harry asked. He always thought Malfoy's secret haven would be somewhere where he could either torture people constantly or where he could brew potions indefinitely. Hearing the disbelief in Harry's voice, Draco crossed his arms over his chest and stared him down.

"Yes, my secret haven. I happen to like to cook." He said defensively, all the pleasantness that had been present before gone in an instant as he sneered at Harry. What was it to Harry? Just because he didn't like him didn't allow him to mock him in his own home! Harry seemed to have realized his mistake, but this was overshadowed by the fact that he and Malfoy had something in common.

"I happen to like to cook too," Harry said. "I just thought your secret haven would be a potions lab or something." He said, leaving the other bit out. Sensing that harry hadn't meant to ruffle his feathers both surprised Draco and for some reason calmed him down. He wasn't about to apologize though.

"Oh. Then I suppose we'll have to share then." He said, then grinned slyly. "Though I could always use a sous-chef." Harry's smile at the previous comment turned to indignance at the second.

"Sous-chef ? I think not!" Harry growled. "I'm sure I am a much better cook than you!"

"You sure about that Potter? I'm better at potions than you. Cooking is much of the same, you know." Draco smirked condescendingly at the other boy. Harry got right up in Draco's face.

"Is that a challenge, Malfoy?" he ground out. Draco's eyes widened gleefully and he too got right back up in Harry's face as well.

"I believe it is, Potter." He held out his hand and Harry grabbed it immediately and shook it. Dobby watched the two boys, his master grinning devilishly and Harry scowling angrily. Was this what friends were like?

Dobby came up to the two of them and served a breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. The boys were sitting on opposite sides of the small table in the kitchen, watching each other as they ate. When they were done, Dobby came to get the plates. With a snap of his fingers, the dishes were in the sink. As he turned to leave and return to work, Draco put a hand on his tiny shoulder, stopping him.

"Dobby, give us aprons. Make sure that the other elves stay out of the way. This is between Potter and me." Harry raised an eyebrow.

"A cook-off?" Draco nodded. They both took their aprons from the elf and moved to their respective sides of the kitchen: Harry to the left, Draco to the right. The rest of the house elves were crowded in a corner, some of them wringing their ears because they weren't working, others looking at the two young wizards in complete awe. Dobby stood in the middle of the kitchen, on the small table they had just eaten at. When both boys signaled that they were ready, Dobby held up a small red napkin.

"On your marks, get set, go!" he squeaked excitedly. The two boys got to work. Draco gathered his ingredients, showing Harry where everything was. Seeing his rival's confused look, Draco smirked.

"I wouldn't want you at too much of a disadvantage. Seeing as I'm going to win anyway." Harry scowled and returned to his station. For two hours, the two twelve year old wizards mixed, chopped, stirred, whisked, boiled and baked until, finally, they stopped.

They were both exhausted, their young bodies resting against one of the legs of the table that was laden with the dishes they had cooked. Draco felt pressure on his shoulder and saw that Harry had rested his head there. To tired to shrug him off, he rest his head against Harry's and looked around. Harry was doing the same.

"Malfoy…your kitchen…" Draco choked out a laugh. Every visible surface was covered with flour or eggs or some other ingredient, but mostly flour. Harry blew some of his hair out of his face, noticing that it too was covered in flour. Draco shifted and stood up slowly, afraid to put any more weight on the already weighed down table. He extended one flour covered hand to Harry and Harry blinked at it blearily before taking it and being hoisted to his feet.

Looking over the table, Harry had to stifle a loud guffaw. He and Draco had made the exact same dishes: quiche, lasagna and apple pie. Draco snorted and shrugged.

"Anything you can do Potter, I can do better." Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed a fork out of the plate in the middle of the table and shoved it Draco who took it daintily and sat down. They had agreed that they would taste each others cooking because they couldn't trust the house elves not to declare them both the winners.

The boys glared at each other over forkfuls of quiche and put it in their mouths at the same time. Harry groaned when it hit his tongue. He had lost, he knew it. It was too good. Draco half swallowed a moan. Harry's quiche was to die for! They sampled each other's dishes and had to bite their tongues not to make a sound every time.

Grudgingly, Draco declared Harry the winner even though Harry wanted to say Draco had won. Harry stopped arguing to glare at him when he said, "I think the lady doth protest too much."

Poking his head out of the kitchen to check the coast was clear, Draco pulled Harry up three flights of stairs and down a rather dark hallway. The room they entered was the complete opposite of dark, however. It was painted in light pastel colors and the over stuffed armchairs were a light baby blue. The wall opposite the door wasn't a wall at all but a window and there was no ceiling! Or there was, Harry wasn't sure. The room was beautiful though. Draco caught Harry looking around in wonder.

"This is one of the sun rooms. It's the farthest one from the main part of the house." Harry nodded absently. "It's the best we can have since I can't take you outside."

Harry walked around the room, looking at the paintings and photos that covered the walls and the flowers that were growing in vases that were seated on pedestals, which were mounted on the wall. He turned to look out of the large window-wall and was about to sit in one of the comfy-looking armchairs when Draco's arm stopped him. Looking at the other, confused, he looked down when Draco gestured at his clothes. He flushed.

"Well…could you give me directions back to your roo—" before he could finish, Draco had performed a quick scourgify on the both of them before letting Harry go. Something that had been bothering Harry finally reached the surface of his consciousness.

"How come you can use magic outside of school?"

"That rule only applies to people with non-magical families. Can't have them blowing up their muggle neighborhood." Draco explained lazily.

"Oh." Draco looked at Harry quizzically, like he was trying to figure something out. Finally, he just asked.

"What are you doing, living with a bunch of muggles anyway?" Harry wanted to snap at him, but saw he was genuinely curious, thought he was trying to hide it by looking out the large window into the grass before them.

"They're my only family," he muttered miserably, "I really had no choice."

"But if you aren't happy there, why would Dumbledore keep you there?" Harry shrugged, also looking out into the grassy field.

"I guess my safety is more important that my happiness." This only confused Draco further.

"But if you had been placed with a wizarding family, you would have been both safe and happy, right? Isn't that better than safe?" He wondered aloud.

"I don't know, alright!" he grumbled, not really annoyed by the question, but more by that fact he had often wondered the same thing. Glaring at Malfoy, Harry mumbled, "Shouldn't I get to ask some questions too?"

Not thinking Draco had heard him, as he was still staring out the window, he was surprised when the other boy said, "Why not?"

"Why not?" Harry repeated, shocked. Draco turned his head to look at him, his facial expression carefully blank. He was a Slytherin after all. Harry thought about what he could ask before settling on one important question that had been bothering him.

"Did you send your house elf to my house?"

"No. If I had, he would have caused more trouble for you, like dropping a pudding on your head, or something." Harry snorted at Draco's dry tone of voice.

"Do you know what's happening at Hogwarts?"

"No. And we got so caught up in our cooking we forgot to ask him." At this, Harry almost smacked himself in the face. Darn it! He was used to Malfoy getting under his skin and making him forget important things! And speaking of getting under his skin…

"Why are you being so…not a prat all of a sudden?" At this Draco rolled his eyes and went back to looking out the window.

"I'm a host and you are my guest. It would be rude to act like a 'prat' around you." Harry rolled his eyes.

"You hate me. I don't think you'd act like a host around me if the alternative was your death." Draco looked indignant at first, then he swallowed hard and looked away. Harry crossed his arms over his chest.

"Why do you hate me so much anyway?" Draco mumbled something under his breath.

"What?"

"You hurt me." Harry looked confused.

"When have I ever hurt you?" Harry tried to think back to any time he could have possibly injured the blond when Draco refused to answer.

"Are you talking about the time you were an absolute ass and insulted Ron and expected me to be your friend? Or the time before that when you insulted the only adult to ever be nice to me?" Harry asked, disgusted.

"Have you ever thought that maybe I didn't know any other way to act?" Harry was startled by Draco's soft voice. "I acted the only way I knew how to act if I wanted to make friends. I grew up being told people wanted to friends with powerful people. I watched my father with his friends and tried it on you. All I've ever wanted is to be your friend." Draco said, looking at his hands in his lap. He felt his cheeks grow hot, but Harry didn't notice. He was so shocked.

Swallowing his embarrassment like any Malfoy should, Draco held his head up high, looked down his nose at Harry and said,

"Besides, I never hated you. I'm twelve for Merlin's sake. A bit too young to really hate anyone. I could make you miserable though. As miserable as I though you made me."

"I'm sorry." Draco's eyes widened just a fraction.

"What are you apologizing for, Potter?" Harry shrugged. He really didn't know, but he wanted to say he was sorry. Draco sighed.

"Well I suppose you expect me to say it too now." He tried his best to sound put-upon and suspected it didn't work if Harry's half smile was anything to go by. "I'm sorry as well Potter." Harry smiled completely this time.

"See, that wasn't so hard!" Draco stuck his tongue out at Harry and looked away so the other boy wouldn't see him smiling.