This chapter is just a kind of introductory chatper. There's not much interaction with Harry and Draco, and it's more of a back story. Please read and review. If I get some reviews, I'll have the second chapter up shortly. It has some language, sorry. This is a Harry/Draco slash fic, at least in the later chapters.

Tryst - An agreement, as between lovers, to meet at a certain time and place.

Chapter 1: Living Arrangements

He didn't understand. At the very least, he should be sad… feel some remorse.

But all Draco Malfoy felt was anger. He was so furious at his parents for being stupid enough to get killed and leave Draco here in Dumbledore's, of all people, care. He felt betrayed. He knew his parents loved him, but ever since he could remember, they had been hard on him, telling him to be strong and keep his head up. Malfoys never apologize. Malfoys are never wrong and they never give up. It was up to Draco to carry on this tradition. It felt as though they were testing him, to see if he could make it on his own and still carry his family pride with his head held high.

It's such a strange thing to think about. Draco still couldn't get his head around the fact that his parents were gone. He would never see them again. It didn't make sense in his head. It was as if he was trying to solve a puzzle and there were pieces missing, so he couldn't tell what the picture was.

Where was he going to live? Who was he going to live with? He doubted that Dumbledore would be taking care of him. Draco shuddered at the thought of spending all his time with the righteous headmaster. He'd go mad. The only thing worse would be if he were forced to live with Potter. Draco felt totally revolted by this idea, and dismissed it quickly from his mind.

"I'm sorry about this Draco, I really am," Dumbledore said forlornly. Draco jumped, interrupted from his thoughts, and ran the hand that wasn't holding his wand through his blond hair.

Like hell you are. I'm sure you wanted my parents to die, you muggle-loving fool. Draco thought to himself bitterly. He didn't want to be pitied at the moment. But to Dumbledore's face, he merely nodded. Draco looked around at the spot that they had just apparated too. He had to squint his eyes against the bright sunlight. There were in the middle of a small square, with some dilapidated muggle houses. Compared to Malfoy Manor, this place looked like a trash heap. Draco sniffed. It even smelled like a dump.

"This way, Draco," Dumbledore said, as he walked towards an alleyway in between two houses. Draco squinted. It was hard to see Dumbledore because he had put them both under Disillusionment charms.

Draco turned around to his many trunks that held his belongings, and muttered "Locomotor Trunk." Then Draco followed Dumbledore grudgingly, wishing that the old bat would stop saying his name and giving him orders. Draco was getting exceedingly agitated as the seconds went by.

The senile old wizard had not even told Draco where they were going. He merely appeared on his doorstep an hour before, informed him that his parents were dead, and forced Draco to pack up his things and leave with him. According to the old man, all the people that were supposed to look after him in his parent's untimely death were currently unable to take care of him. Draco knew why. They were all assisting the Dark Lord at the moment. Draco wished he were with them.

Dumbledore stopped abruptly, and Draco nearly ran straight into him. Dumbledore turned to face him, and bent down.

"I want you to memorize this: 'The Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number 12, Grimmauld Place'. Repeat it please," Dumbledore whispered. Draco scowled. This wasn't the time to play stupid memory games.

"The Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number 12, Grimmauld place," he drawled, quite bored. Dumbledore turned around, and suddenly, between the two buildings in front of them, a new one began to expand and grow. Draco blinked at the new house that seemed to have sprouted out of nowhere, and quickly regained his composure. Malfoys could not afford to be surprised by anything; they can't let their guard down.

Dumbledore rapped smartly on the door. No one came. He rapped again, a little harder.

"There's a doorbell," Draco said as he rolled his eyes. What an idiot.

"Ah, but there are certain things inside that we don't want to… wake up," Dumbledore replied. Draco's mind raced with images of what could be inside. Was Dumbledore taking him to a place that was dangerous? Was the inside full of dragons or something of the sort that Dumbledore was going to feed Draco too, to make sure he didn't aid Voldemort like his parents? He wouldn't put it past a muggle-lover. They're quite unstable people.

At the moment Draco imagined pushing Dumbledore in the door first and making a break for it, the door swung open and Dumbledore stepped over the threshold, pulling Draco by the arm with him. Dumbledore quickly tapped the top of Draco's head, and then his own head, and Draco felt something hot trickling down his back as the Disillusionment Charm was lifted. Once his trunks were inside, the door closed behind them.

Draco found himself staring a young-looking witch, who looked as if she'd had too many drinks lately. She had mousy brown hair, and there were large bags under her eyes. The look on her face was one of pure apathy.

Draco looked around at the house they had just entered, completely nonplussed. All the wallpaper was tearing, and the place smelled of mildew. He sincerely hoped this wasn't where he was going to be living now. Draco would have to claw his eyes out if the rest of the house looked like this.

"Hello Dumbledore," the witch whispered dully, running a hand through her drab hair.

"Hello Tonks," Dumbledore whispered cheerily. Draco's frown deepened. Why were they all whispering? And what the hell kind of name is 'Tonks'? "I've just come to see that Draco gets settled in here." The witch jumped as if she just noticed Draco standing there.

"Oh, well, that's nice," she replied, obviously not concerned at all.

Dumbledore leaned over to whisper something in her ear, and she nodded slowly and started to walk away. Dumbledore made a gesture to Draco, telling him to follow. Draco and Dumbledore followed the witch, her shoulders sagging slightly as she walked.

"Where-," Draco began, but Dumbledore clapped a hand over his mouth. Draco thought about biting the long fingers, but Dumbledore withdrew his hand, and put a finger to his lips. Draco was infuriated. No one silenced a Malfoy.

Once they were climbing down a set of stone steps, Dumbledore turned to him and said, "You may talk now," smiling like a loon.

"Where are we? Who's that? Why did we have to whisper?" Draco said, his voice taking on a demanding tone. He wanted answers. Now.

"All in good time, young Malfoy, all in good time… I can't answer any questions just yet," Dumbledore said as he tapped the side of his crooked nose with his finger. Draco glowered as they reached the bottom of the stairs, which led into a large cavernous room, with a long wooden table set up in the center. It appeared to be a kitchen. A very dirty, unsanitary kitchen, that didn't impress Draco in the slightest. This place needed a house elf, dearly.

The witch named Tonks plopped down heavily in a chair at the table and took a long gulp from a goblet in front of her. As Dumbledore and Draco passed her to sit down, Draco smelled alcohol. They sat there for several minutes, in total silence. Every so often the witch whimpered, but Dumbledore did nothing to comfort her. He merely sat there with a coy smile on his face, occasionally stroking his long beard.

Draco grew more bored and annoyed. He wanted to know what this place was, and why he was here. He kept shooting Dumbledore murderous gazes, but the old wizard was unaffected, or just didn't notice.

Just as Draco thought about hexing Dumbledore and demanding him to tell him where the crazy man had taken him, he heard someone bounding down the stone steps. Draco turned to the steps expectantly. With any luck, this next person would be sane, at least.

To Draco's disbelief and displeasure, Harry Potter emerged from the stairwell.

Draco's eyes widened, and a fire in his chest erupted.

This couldn't be right, this was a mistake. He couldn't live with Harry Potter! Just thinking about him, saying his name, made Draco recoil in disgust. He hated the goody two-shoes Gryffindor.

Harry and Draco just stared at each other. Draco read pure hatred in Harry's green orbs, and knew the same look was reflected in his own gray eyes.

"Ah, Harry! Mr. Malfoy here is going to be your new roommate, in part to circumstances under our control," Dumbledore said, sounding pleasant, but his expression was clearly worried.

"WHAT?" Harry yelled, just as Draco voiced his own opinion.

"NO!"

Draco leapt to his feet, knocking his chair over backwards. Harry looked as though he was going to have a heart attack. Draco felt as though his heart was beating three times as fast. He was so shocked and furious, that there was only thought that kept echoing in his mind. NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, he yelled over and over inside his head.

There was no way he was going to live with the one person in the world he hated most. No way.

No. Fucking. Way.