Chapter Three: Allies and Friends

"Well?" the wizard snapped as he stepped out of the fireplace. "What is it that necessitates my immediate presence? I am in the middle of a potion and have lessons to prepare for tomorrow."

Lucius ignored the terse words and the glower of the other man with the ease of long practice. "You brought your medical kit as I requested?"

"Of course I did. Now what is going on? If Narcissa is ill you should summon your healer."

"Narcissa is well." Before he could say more, an even more fierce expression of annoyance was fixed on him.

"Then what do you need me for? Your wife is more than capable of handling whatever scrape Draco has gotten into. And if she can't then you certainly need someone with more expertise than myself." The clipped words did not entirely conceal a trickle of concern in the dark eyes at the mention of his godson being ill.

"Draco is also quite well and is currently entertaining a guest with his mother in my private study."

The other wizard seemed to forget momentarily the reason for his being there in his disbelief at the idea of Lucius allowing children, even with his wife's supervision, to 'entertain themselves' in his private study. Before he could ask why he would countenance such a thing, or repeat his demand to know why he had been summoned to the Manor on 'a matter of urgency,' his long time friend pre-empted him with the answer to both questions.

"Draco's guest is a young boy who accidentally Apparated himself into the maze this afternoon. Draco brought him to me, as he seemed to be injured upon his arrival."

Black eyes had gone wide at the thought of a child getting onto the grounds, let alone into the maze. He opened his mouth to ask who in Salazar's name could have accomplished a feat the almighty Dumbledore himself could not have managed. The Lord Malfoy beat him to it yet again with an answer that had him literally rearing back in shock.

"The boy's name is Harry Potter." The experienced spy stuttered for several moments, unable to form a single word. The blond took the opportunity to finish his explanation. "Narcissa believes the child requires a more thorough exam and additional treatment, including potions for weight gain and any other nutritional issues he seems sure to have."

Severus Snape stared at the other wizard, completely unable to formulate a reply for several seconds. When the words finally came they were in a tone of annoyed incredulity he couldn't recall ever having used before. "You expect me to treat Harry Bloody Potter?"

Lucius said nothing, simply waiting for his previous explanation to no doubt replay in the other's mind.

"What are you thinking? Do you plan to play host to the Boy-Who-Lived? Are you trying to get us all killed?"

"Indeed, I am endeavoring to save us."

The Potion Master's response to that calm statement was given with all seriousness. "You are insane."

Again, the blond said nothing. He watched the younger man run his free hand through his hair, the other hand still holding his bag of medical potions as he paced back and forth for several minutes. Eventually he broke the silence, once more sounding irritated and confused. "This is madness, Lucius. Send the boy back where he came from and let the sainted Albus Dumbledore tend to his little hero before someone finds out and kills us all for not dealing with the brat on sight."

A single strand of white-blond hair slipped free of the leather tie used to pull it back as he tilted his head slightly to the side. "Dumbledore has had care of the child for the last six years, or at least he claimed it when he placed him in his current situation. Yet the child appeared on my grounds today, having been desperate enough to do so that he Apparated himself through my wards. And in a state which speaks obviously of neglect if not outright abuse."

Grey eyes narrowed and fixed on orbs so dark they appeared black. "What would people think if they knew their savior had been thus treated while under the supposed care and oversight of the infallible Headmaster?"

Dark eyes narrowed in turn as the taller wizard continued in an almost malicious voice. "What would happen to the old man's plans and machinations if the Boy-Who-Lived were to not only escape such deplorable conditions but find himself in an environment which could see him raised properly and with all the social and practical training he will surely need to fulfill his role as a Lord and hero? How might opinions shift if the boy learned of the person responsible for his mistreatment and came to speak out against him?"

A calculating gleam brightened those dark eyes as the Lord of the House of Malfoy finished with a smirk. "And what might befall those who saved the boy and taught him the truth of his previous situation and provided him with the care and training to survive and prosper in his destined roles?"

Severus had spent the last half-dozen years keeping careful watch on his employer, sharing what he gleaned with his friend, and attempting to find a way out for them both. Neither had devised a solution other than to wait, watch, and hope. He knew the little brat was their best chance at escaping the Dark Lord. And for him, being free of his role as Death Eater spy, was the only way out from under the old man's thumb.

Yet he also knew, or at least highly suspected, that actually training the whelp for the inevitable fight was not on the Headmaster's agenda any time soon, if ever. He wasn't even sure that the ultimate survival of James' spawn was part of Albus' ultimate goals. Certainly, teaching the child of his place in their society was not included in Dumbledore's machinations. But if someone else was able to circumvent those schemes and guide the boy in a different direction before those plans were able to take effect…. Well, that could certainly change the game entirely.

Without a single word of agreement, the long dark hair swung on a sharp nod and Severus Snape followed the Malfoy Patriarch out of the reception room and down the long corridor to his private office.

The introduction and exam that followed was almost as enlightening as the conversation that had preceded it. For all that Lucius had told him of the famous boy's condition and what it said of his current living situation, the Potions Master had assumed that his old friend had been exaggerating. Lord Malfoy was rather fond of drama, after all. Yet within minutes of meeting the scrawny little boy and following him into a nearby sitting room to assist Narcissa with the examination, he knew no exaggeration had been necessary.

The child was too short, too thin, and too reticent around adults to have been anything but mistreated. And the blonde witch had been correct, the ankle she had treated was far from his only injury, even without counting the older bruises that underlay it. That injury was compounded by the fact that the ligament in his leg that attached to the joint was badly strained, as if the child had often spent a very long time running as fast as he possibly could without any regard to the physical effects. Between the two of them, they were able to convince Potter to show them almost two dozen bruises of varying ages, some in the shape of a very large hand.

Bruises were not the only superficial injury either. Eight long abrasions on his back indicated he had been repeatedly struck with something, most likely a belt. Severus and Narcissa also found and treated two old hairline fractures in his ribs and one in each shin that had healed quite poorly. Plus approximately ten breaks in his right hand and fingers. His left arm had also suffered a rather severe break about a year before that the boy would explain only with the implausible "I fell" he had tried earlier with his ankle. In fact, that was what he said any time they asked about a specific injury so they had stopped bothering half way through the exam.

Diagnostics indicated that the child had received two to three concussions over the last five years and he had admitted in an almost inaudible tone that he had frequent headaches and problems with his sight that his outdated glasses did not address. And all this in addition to long term malnutrition that had impacted not only his height and weight, but his healing, bone growth, and the development of an infuriating number of his internal organs and systems. The number of nutritional, restorative, growth, healing, and strengthening potions he would be brewing for the son of his schoolyard tormentor would keep Severus busy for days.

Even as he diagnosed all the issues he could medically address with potions, balms, and salves, the Head of Slytherin could not suppress his conflicting emotions. His own personal experiences growing up left him feeling sympathy for the brat against his will. And yet that this had happened to the child of one of the men that had left him similarly bruised and beaten and humiliated over the years gave the bitter man a perverse sense of satisfaction. Why did he have to look so much like James? An extra stone or two and a few inches and the whelp would be his father's twin.

Of course, he wasn't the only one to notice this fact. As he was writing up a list of potions to brew, Narcissa joined him at the table, allowing Potter to put back on the white shirt and green jumper he had so recently been given. "He looks so very much like James, does he not?"

A few feet away, Harry sat up straighter as he finished adjusting the soft jumper. Neither adult noticed the movement, Severus simply biting out an agreement.

"Who's James?" a timid voice asked, cutting into whatever comment the blonde would have made.

They both turned to look at the boy, causing his shoulders to hunch forward and his eyes to stay locked on the hands he had folded in his lap. The dour wizard started to scoff at the ridiculous query, and Narcissa to answer it, when a house elf popped into the room and requested his mistress' attention. While the witch joined Knobby on the other side of the room, the Potions Master pinned a narrow black gaze on the figure huddled in the small chaise on the other side of the table.

"You have never heard the name James before?" Severus asked in clear disbelief.

Potter shook his head and hunched forward a little more, not raising his eyes as he responded in a quiet voice, the words tumbling over themselves in their haste to come out. "No. Honest. I'm not lying. I'm not."

The fact that the child had refused to meet his gaze was unsurprising, as he had kept his eyes down from the moment the dark wizard had entered the room. This was the first time he had grown quite so obviously distressed, however. It had been plain, of course, that the scrawny thing was nervous to the point of frightened to have the adults looking him over for injuries. Every time they had found a new one he'd shrunk in on himself and apologized, his shoulders tensed as if waiting for an explosion. Or a blow. A question about the injury made him shut down almost completely and they had gotten nothing out of him but nods or head shakes since the last time he'd informed them he'd 'fallen'. The question about James had been the first Potter had ventured the entire time Snape had been there.

Obviously, asking questions was not encouraged where he lived, and it would also appear that the boy had a strong expectation of being thought a liar. The Potions Professor wondered if he was often caught in a lie or just often accused of lying in order to cover up the mistakes of others. The wizard certainly knew from experience that victims of chronic abuse were often discredited by their abusers in order to lessen the chance that they might be believed if they spoke of the abuse. Merlin knew that was a favorite game of the Mauraders, playing a prank and blaming Severus in order to cause the Professors to label him a troublemaker.

But was that the case here? Perhaps if they knew with whom Dumbledore had left the child, they could make a more informed assumption. "Who do you live with, boy?"

The child flinched so much his arms made an aborted attempt to cover his head protectively. Black eyes narrowed further as he waited for a response. They had so far received some kind of response to each direct question they had asked, so it was possible asking outright would yield them an answer that their previous implied queries had not. Sure enough, after several seconds of silence, the Potter boy seemed to deflate in his seat, his arms wrapping tightly around his midsection as he spoke in a tone so subdued it was almost emotionless.

"Petunia and Vernon Dursley, sir."

Severus Snape reared back, almost tripping over his own robes as he took a hasty step backwards. The words echoed in his head as he tried to process them.

"Your Aunt Petunia?" he asked in shocked disbelief, half expecting a negative response because surely, the old meddler wasn't fool enough to leave an infant Magical with Muggles whom he knew hated magic. Not even Dumbledore would be that shortsighted or uncaring.

The tiny nod he received instead was like a small blow. The wizard had grown up with Lily and Petunia Evans. Lily had been his best and only friend until fifth year at Hogwarts when everything had crumbled around him. Petunia had been a jealous and nasty child and had grown ever more hateful after Lily was revealed to be a witch. The other Evans' child had been a perfect example of every bad thing Pure-bloods had ever said about Muggles. Everything Lucius had said, everything he had seen in the boy in the last hour, suddenly made perfect sense. As did the fact that the child had apparently never even heard his father's name before. Of course Petunia would not speak of the wizard who had married her sister.

Part of what Lucius had said earlier, about influencing and guiding the famous boy, resonated within him. There were many ways a young child could be guided. And to be steered completely away from everything that had made James Potter the wizard he'd been was a laudable start. "Narcissa, Lucius, and myself, went to school with someone named James. You look very much like him."

The shaking that had overtaken the skinny arms at the mention of his caretakers stilled slightly as Potter focused on the unexpected answer when the man continued. "He was a troublemaker and a bully."

The child flinched at the first descriptive, then placed a small hand protectively over his previously injured ribs in a very telling move. "I don't like bullies," came the soft response.

"Quite clever of you to think so."

The little head jerked up, surprised eyes darting up to meet his for a moment before dropping back down again. The Potions Master would have seen a lot in the boy's shock at being called clever, or being agreed with, but all he could see was green. Even after the gaze left his he could still see that vivid shade of green he had only ever seen one place before.

"Lily," he whispered. His feet took him around the table and to the small chaise of their own volition. The dark-haired wizard didn't even notice when he sat next to the boy, or when the child tensed and leaned back into the cushions instinctively. "Look at me."

It was not a request, though it wasn't spoken as the sharp command the professor would give in his classroom. Harry raised his head slowly, looking up towards the man but not meeting the black gaze. It was enough.

"You have Lily's eyes," Severus whispered on an exhale. The statement earned him a look of wary confusion and black strands spilled across his shoulders when he cocked his head to the side with his next question. "Do you know who Lily is?"

A silent shake of the head was the only answer the boy was able to give as those familiar green eyes dropped to his lap once again. "Lily Evans was your mother, and she had eyes just exactly like yours."

Those verdant orbs widened and darted up and across the adult's face with a look of hope so sharp it must have hurt. "My mum?"

As Narcissa returned to the table, she caught the soft words and the ever so slight twitch of the normally stern lips which she knew to be Severus' smile. "Indeed," the deep voice intoned before it continued almost hesitantly. "Lily – your mother – and I met when we were your age."

Wide green eyes glistened with moisture. "You knew my mum?"

The dour wizard offered a single nod. "We were friends for many years."

"Perhaps," cut in a smooth voice, "Severus can bring a picture of Lily with him on his next visit," the witch suggested.

The Potions Master glared at her briefly before conceding with a nod when the skinny boy caught his breath audibly and gasped, "Really?"

The smile that gesture garnered from the child was the first genuinely happy one either adult had seen on his pale face. "But for now, I believe Draco is waiting for you to join him. He is most anxious to show you his room."

The two little eyebrows scrunched together in a look of confusion she would have found adorable if it wasn't also obvious that the boy didn't know how to take the fact that someone was anxious for his company. A single, slightly louder, call of the small blond's name was all it took to have him bounding through the door and over to his new friend.

"Can we go now, Mother?" Draco asked impatiently the moment he entered the room. The instant she nodded slightly, the Malfoy heir grasped the smaller boy's hand, though his enthusiasm damped just slightly when Harry flinched.

"Come on, let's go. We can play in my room." It took the full force of Draco's excitement and a few encouraging words from Narcissa to get the Boy-Who-Lived headed out of the room.

The moment the door closed behind the young wizards, Severus turned to face his friend's wife with a scowl. Lucius entered seconds later and they all exchanged heavy glances before Snape broke the silence. "It would seem we have much to discuss."

They had so much to discuss that it was time for dinner before they had finished. The first thing they did was to carefully document each and every injury and physical abnormality that Severus and Narcissa had found on the boy. It took the judicious use of charms, a pensive, and the content of several surveillance charms from the private study and sitting room. But when they were done, they had the beginnings of a damning file to use against Harry Potter's Magical Guardian to show endangerment, willful negligence, and abuse. Severus, having known Petunia personally, could well imagine the additional information they would no doubt glean from the boy over the next few years.

Even with showing that the Headmaster had placed the so-called savior in such a despicable environment and then not once checked on him, it would be difficult to erode the old man's hold on power in their world. A multi-pronged attack would be necessary, but there was time to plan for that. For now, there were several more urgent matters to address. First and foremost, the one diagnostic result that the two medically knowledgeable adults had not yet discussed.

"The past concussions were clear, as were the signs of slight damage to the optic nerve that we can assume was the result of one of the head injuries. But there was something else not right on the scans." Severus turned to Narcissa for confirmation. He may have received quite a bit of medical training through his work with Pomfrey and the medicinal potions he brewed, as well as the everyday issues with the students in his House, but the Lady Malfoy had been well on her way to a Mastery in Healing before Draco was born.

The Lady of a Most Ancient and Noble House would never work outside of the home, of course, and any type of academic degree was rare, but volunteer work was perfectly acceptable. Before her pregnancy, the blond witch had had every intention of volunteering at St. Mungo's to further the Malfoy name and image. The difficulty of her pregnancy, however, had changed her mind and she had decided to stay home with the baby she had almost lost more than once. Even so, her expertise in healing magic would allow her to give a much more accurate diagnosis in this case than he would be able to offer.

"Yes, there was," she agreed with a dainty sip of her tea. "I have never seen anything quite like it. It reminds me of the type of staining of the aura that results from long-term curses or permanent spell damage. Yet it did not show up on the aura scan, only the diagnostic of his brain. And being only seven years old he should not have had the time to develop such a stain, even from something as powerful as the Killing Curse."

The Potions Master nodded absently in agreement. No other person had ever survived the curse and so there had never been an ability to study such an occurrence in the past, but it didn't make sense for it to be the cause. The Killing Curse fractured a person's Magical Core, causing it to essentially explode and destroy the person with their own magic. It was one of the reasons no spell had been devised to defend against it. Shield spells and the like worked against outside magics, but they were useless to protect a person from their own internal magics. But the abnormality did not show on the Core scan either.

"I am afraid we would need a specially trained Healer to look him over if we want to properly address the issue. Given his past, I think it is safe to assume that it is likely a result of something that happened when his parents were killed. It is highly likely that there were other spells and curses cast in his vicinity that night. I would recommend a specialist in Curse Damage."

Lucius pursed his lips at his wife's words. Their ability to keep the Potter boy with them would rest heavily on no one learning of his being in their custody. Therefore bringing in an outsider was a risky proposition. "No one must know we have the boy."

"Or remember that we do," interjected the dark-eyed wizard. The others looked at him for a moment before nodding in understanding. As a skilled Occlumens and Legilimens, Severus was naturally highly adept with Obliviation.

"Very well, I will find an appropriate Healer and notify you when they will be here."

"I will make myself available to see them after they've treated the boy."

The wizards nodded once at each other and then turned their attention to the other pressing concern. In order to succeed in their ultimate goals, they would need a Boy-Who-Lived that was properly trained in many more than the normal subjects covered even by the heirs of the most elite families. A game plan, and many lesson plans, would be required.

The adults formulated plans for those lessons, and several other tasks they themselves would need to undertake in order to ensure Potter's success. Meanwhile, Draco began to teach his new friend something his parents and their friend would never consider adding to his upcoming curriculum.

The first time the blond boy tried to play with him, the brunette was at something of a loss as to what to do. Harry had never really had a friend before. The only games he had ever played were variations of Harry-Hunting and that had not situated him well to join in the games that Draco played. The dragon toys were pretty cool, though they startled him when they started moving and roaring and such. But after that they were fun, and Draco even let him touch them and move them around and make them breath fire as they pretended they were fighting each other. Harry didn't understand the game the taller boy tried to play with a set of little toy people and brooms, but he had fun when they went outside and saw the birds.

There were a bunch of them a side garden, which featured a sizable pond. A few were pretty blues and greens, though most were white all over. Draco called them peacocks and said that when they grew up they'd have great big fancy tails and would be able to go anywhere on the grounds that they wanted. The blond even introduced the brunette to his favorite one. Its name was Polaris, but it was named after the north star, not the polar area where there was ice and polar bears like he'd first thought. The taller boy had been surprised he didn't know the name of the north star, but he also said it was funny, because Polaris was white like ice and polar bears too.

The fluffy little bird must have been amused as well, because it flapped its wings a lot when Draco laughed and followed them both back to the house when they went in to wash up for supper. Narcissa didn't laugh when she heard the story, but she smiled at both boys and didn't say that Harry was silly or stupid for not understanding the name. She did, however, watch him a lot when he was in the same room with her. Draco watched him as well, but it wasn't scary like it was when Dudley watched him to find the best time to attack or make a mess that he could blame Harry for. The blond boy looked more confused than anything.

Harry Potter perplexed the Malfoy heir. He didn't talk very much, he jumped a lot when people touched him or got close to him, or asked him questions, and he seemed almost scared to touch any of the toys, or to even go inside the bedroom. It wasn't just that, either. He, Mother, and Father, had to all tell him he could join them at the table for dinner before he would actually sit down. He barely touched the food until Mother gave it to him herself and even then, the skinny boy took forever to eat. It was fun to watch him once he started, though, Draco had to admit. It was like the other boy had never had any of the foods before, he was so surprised any time he took a bite.

The most fun to watch, however, was when they showed him the room that Mother had Dobby and Wobbly set up for him to stay in. It was connected to the sitting room off Draco's own bedroom and had much in common with the taller boy's in layout and design. The walls were a similar cream and pale green, and it had a small sitting area past the foot of the bed just like the blond's did. The tapestry above the bed was smaller than Draco's and the color scheme was maroon and ochre where the Malfoy heir's was blue and indigo. Yet it was clear that they were part of the same suite of rooms that included the bedrooms, the sitting room and two en suite bathrooms.

Harry had never seen anything like it when they first entered. He stood frozen in the doorway, simply staring at the wall-to-wall carpet and the vibrant accent rug that he would probably ruin the second he stepped into the room. The walls had fancy shapes that stuck out a little, and painted details, and all the furniture looked too pretty to even touch. They weren't really going to let him sleep here, were they? That couldn't be right. The scrawny boy couldn't help shaking his head as he looked from the lovely blonde lady to the room and back in confusion. The bed here was bigger than his whole cupboard at the Dursleys' house. The attached bathroom was probably bigger than Dudley's second bedroom, and it was huge compared to the space Harry had deserved.

He didn't understand. What was he supposed to do? If he didn't say thank you they'd think he was ungrateful, but if he did they would think he expected to actually stay in this fancy room. Harry could feel his eyes starting to sting and bit his lip to keep from crying like a little baby. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon hated it if he cried, they said freaks didn't deserve to get upset about things and should just be thankful for what they got. The brunette tried to tell Draco's mum that he could just stay off the kitchen so he'd be close to do the cooking and other things. Aunt Petunia sometimes said that's why he stayed in the cupboard that was under the stairs instead of the shed in the back yard like Uncle Vernon wanted.

But he didn't know if that would be right. They hadn't let him make more of the biscuits he'd eaten with tea or help with dinner. Maybe he was supposed to keep Draco's rooms clean instead. He could do that, he was good at cleaning and these three rooms were probably as big as Number Four was if you didn't count the shed or the yards. That must be it. Harry sighed, relieved that he'd finally figured it out. He hoped that the Malfoys didn't realize he had almost thought the bedroom was actually for him.

He looked around for the cupboard to keep his cleaning supplies in and wondered if that was were his bed would be too. No matter how small it was or how much they expected him to clean, this place would still be better than Privet Drive. The Malfoys had been so nice already, they'd fixed his ankle and seemed like they really cared that he was hurt, even if it was probably so he would be able to work better tomorrow. And they hadn't yelled once, or called him a freak or anything.

The suspense was too much for the small blond and he bounced a little on his feet as he turned to his new friend. "What do you think of your room, Harry? Isn't it great? We'll share the sitting room and we can get more toys for in here and we can play every morning when we get up, and before bed, and it will be so much fun!"

The dark-haired boy jumped a little and looked even more uncertain. "M-My… but- but I-I don't understand."

Narcissa kneeled down gracefully in front of the clearly overwhelmed boy and spoke slowly and softly after fixing her son with a quelling stare before he could say anything else. "Mr. Potter," she waited for the wide green eyes to look in her direction. "This is to be your bedroom. We would like it very much if you lived here with us from now on."

The small boy simply blinked silently for several seconds so she continued in a gentle voice. "You would have this room to yourself and share the sitting room as Draco said. And we will arrange for you to take lessons with Draco during the day, but the two of you may of course play either here or on the grounds in your free time. Malfoy Manor would be your home, Mr. Potter, if you are agreeable."

A single tear spilled down his cheek, though a skinny hand wiped it away quickly, despite the way the fingers trembled. "I don't understand," he whispered again.

"Mr. Malfoy and I wish to become your guardians, Mr. Potter, instead of your Aunt and Uncle. We wish for you to live with us now." She saw the wisdom in her husband's plans for the famous boy and wholeheartedly agreed with the plans she, Lucius, and Severus had begun formulating that evening, but she had also overcome her initial fears about taking in the Boy-Who-Lived for another reason.

Her voice softened further as she spoke. "I have long wanted another child, but I was blessed only with my Draco. Now, however, my husband and I have the chance to raise that other child. Will you stay here, Harry, and be our son?"

Draco watched, bewildered as his new friend nodded rapidly, and after freezing briefly, allowed the Lady Malfoy to gather him to her in a hug. Draco knew his mother gave very good hugs, so he wasn't sure why Harry looked like he was crying, but he did his best to stay quiet until Potter stepped back a few minutes later.

"Mother, can we play now? Before we go to sleep? Please? Just for a little while?"

Narcissa gave her little Dragon a smile as Harry tried to wipe his face clean of tears. Once it seemed he had at least partially succeeded she nodded to both boys. "You may play for a short while. But it is late and you will both have to ready yourselves for bed and lay down for the night as soon as I return."

Draco quickly agreed and led his friend into the sitting room before his mother changed her mind. The next half hour was spent explaining all about Quidditch as he moved the tiny players around on the play pitch he had received for his last birthday. And while it was difficult, he even managed to put the toys down and put on his pajamas with very little protest when it was time. Harry seemed to have a little trouble putting on the silken sleep set he was given to wear, but he didn't say a word when the two boys were ushered off to their own beds minutes later.

He was so tired, that the dark-haired boy barely even flinched when both Malfoys came in to say goodnight. It was strange how Mrs. Malfoy adjusted his covers and smiled before she turned out the light, but green eyes were already falling closed when the door clicked shut behind the adults. He wondered briefly, as he drifted off, if he were already dreaming. Had he really gotten away from Dudley's gang and Little Whinging and Privet Drive and the Dursleys? He had wanted it so very much, been so desperate to be away that it seemed like it must be a dream to be in this huge bed with its soft mattress and warm blankets.

A few hours later, when he woke in the dark, a bright green light still flashing behind his eyes as it sometimes did at night, he was sure he was back in his cupboard under the stairs and would get a terrible beating for disappearing from the school so freakishly. He didn't want another beating because he was such a freak. He didn't want to be back at Number Four. He wanted to be away again, like he'd dreamed. He wanted to be with the nice blond boy who said he would be his friend. The tears burned his eyes and stung the back of his throat before he even realized he was crying and a few sobs escaped despite his attempts to be quiet.

Several light thuds sounded in the dark and Harry was sure that he would be in for it now. Uncle Vernon hated when he woke them up with his freakish dreams. He started to burrow down in the blankets when he realized how thick and warm they were. His cupboard was never warm, except in the summer when it sometimes got hot and sweaty and there wasn't enough air through the vent in the door.

"Harry?" called a voice he didn't recognize. "Harry, are you okay?"

Someone was tugging at the blanket covering his head and he froze as it was pulled away to reveal a small, round face above his, topped with white blond hair and covered with a frown.

"Harry, wake up, it's Draco, wake up."

The brunette blinked wet green eyes. "D-Draco?"

The other boy nodded and scooted closer. "Are you okay, Harry?"

It was Draco, a little voice repeated in his mind. Draco was real, and so was the soft warm bed and the giant castle and the maze in the garden. He was away. It wasn't a dream. More tears came and Harry had to turn away quickly to wipe them off before Draco saw. Dudley and his gang always teased him if he cried when they played Harry-Hunting. He didn't want Draco to tease him, or see that he was acting like a baby; he probably wouldn't want to be friends with a baby.

"What's wrong, Harry?" The blond didn't sound mad that he had been woken up, or like he was going to tease Harry for being upset and crying in the middle of the night. He sounded worried. No one had ever been worried when he had a bad dream before. Dudley only laughed and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia just banged on the cupboard door and yelled for him to shut up so normal people could sleep.

Draco didn't do any of those things, instead, he stared at the other boy in the dark with a strange look on his face. "Did you have a bad dream?" the blond finally asked and Harry couldn't help but nod just a little, not wanting to lie to his only friend and hoping the other boy wouldn't laugh at him for it.

"Mother lets me sleep with her and Father sometimes when I have a bad dream. I never have another bad dream when I sleep with them. Do you want me to sleep with you so you don't have any more bad dreams tonight?"

Harry didn't know what to say, but the idea of not being alone or having to see the scary green light or hear the woman scream again that night was too much to resist. So the brunette nodded again and the other boy promptly wiggled under the covers next to him without saying anything until he was cuddled under the blanket right up against his new friend.

"Goodnight, Harry," he said into the darkness with a yawn.

"G-Goodnight Draco," the other boy whispered back before yawning himself. Within minutes both boys were sound asleep in the big bed.