Part III Draco

A/n Sorry for the long wait. I want to thank you all for reviewing and sticking around. I think there is a problem with my doc. x- I don't know honestly. Since it's been so long this chapter is un-beta-ed, as soon as I get the beta-ed version I will remedy this. In the mean time please point out any error you find so I may fix them. I will try and have the next chapter up in the next few days or so. As always please review and tell me what you think!

-V

Harry didn't know who Draco Malfoy was-yet. But he did know Ron hated him- the slimy shit head. He also knew Draco was rich- really rich, and pretty, or that's what Hermione had told him.

Ron had become a permanent fixture, something that both exasperated and over joyed Hermione. He and Harry worked their way across the school towards American History, taught by one Professor Binns, only the most boring teacher this side of the universe.

Ron was complaining- and as usual it was about Malfoy. Harry was convinced Ron was exaggerating- no one actually acted like that. They rounded the comer near the chem lab and Ron crashed into someone, who shook white blond hair out of grey eyes and glared up at Ron. ( He was freakishly tall, after all)

"Watch it Weasel-be, wouldn't want to break something you couldn't pay for, God your family must have a hard enough time as it is, look at that sweater."

Ron went a horrible tomato red that extended all the way to his ears, and made his freckles stand out even more than normal.

"Go to hell Malfoy!"

Malfoy raised an elegant brow, " you aren't very imaginative are you, pity, poor and stupid, such a shame."

Harry glared, he couldn't believe this guy was real, "Watch, who you're calling stupid, you fowl little git." added Harry coolly.

Draco rounded on him, and looked down his perfect nose, sneering, hand on his hip. He smirked, " I don't listen to trash."

Harry wasn't intimated by Malfoy what so ever. For one he was the prettiest boy he'd ever seen- all sharp angles, piercing grey eyes and white blond hair- pity he sneered all the time it made him much less nice to look at.

Draco only have about half and inch on him, after being with Marcus, it took more then an arrogant blond git to faze him- Marcus was everything that Draco was not.

He was huge, and towered over Harry, and Harry honestly thought he looked like some rock star with his shaggy black hair, aviator sunglasses and tight jeans.

He wasn't the kind of person you wanted to end up on the wrong side of- he had no qualms about kicking someones ass. He was a bad ass, and Draco was a pale, pretty boy. He paled in comparison.

Instead of dignifying Draco with an answer, Harry just walked away.

Ron found him at his desk, ten pound history text book already out. "Why'd you just walk off?" he asked, dropping into the seat next to Harry. Hermione never sat with them in the back, she was front and center, she claimed they distracted her.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Dun' know," said Ron grinning.

"You're in an awful good mood after a Malfoy encounter, what gives?" Harry commented.

"Yeah, well, after you walked off he didn't seem to know what to do- it was great! He just shuffled off!" said Ron happily.

"He's not very intimidating is he-" commented Harry idly flipping through the chapter he was supposed to have read the night before.

Ron sniggered, "Nope."

Rather then listen to Binns lecture- his voice had hypnotic powers that guaranteed that by the end of first half and hour at least half the class was asleep. To combat the sheer boredom emanating from Binns, Ron and Harry had taken to playing hang man, it had already begun to lose it's novelty.

Ron was sure they'd be dead before the semester was over. Hermione thought this was silly and often told Ron so- she was the only one who manged to combat Binns hypnotic powers and take notes.

Harry thought she was magical and he and Ron relied on her noted to pass the class. And as there was a test on the civil war the next day, Hermione planned on spending her afternoon in the library studying.

Harry desperately need help - he knew nothing about American history, and as he and Ron came as a pair the three of them ended up huddled around one of the round wooden tabled heads bowed over the open text book. Hermione had pulled her wild hair back into a tight pony tail, note book filled with meticulous notes sat open next to Brinkley's text book.

Harry tried to follow Hermione explanation about early labor unions, but his heart just wasn't in it. Ron wasn't even pretending to pay attention, his head lay on the table, eyes glazed over.

"Now Harry, the end of Chapter seventeen was important. I think you ought to reread it tonight and take notes on the to-knows, I know that I will."

"But it's just so boring," moaned Harry, his head on the table.

"Yeah," added Ron, "at least last year was sort of interesting with the Spartans and that Greek guy Pluto."

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, and closed her eyes, (she had to suppress a smile), "not Pluto Ron, it's Plato."

"Yeah- whatever, all I'm saying is that it was better then labor unions," grumbled Ron.

Hermione couldn't taken Ron in large doses, if she tried she would go mad, and she had reached her daily limit. She closed the book and shoved it into her already over stuffed bag- it was miracle it hadn't split yet, "fine- if it's that boring do it your self then. I have real work to do with out you two distracting me!" she snapped shrilly and stomped out of the library.

Harry tried to call after her but it was in vain, all he got for his effort was a disapproving look from the tight lipped librarian Madame Price.

Harry slumped in his wooden chair, "great, now we're both going to fail," he moaned.
"We were gonna fail anyway," said Ron stretching, "Wanna go play call of duty or something? "

"Both boys stood and left the library, "Sure beats studying, but I'm utter balls at anything like that," said Harry.

Ron shrugged, "Doesn't matter, I'm really crap at it too."

Ron stood inside the door leading to the parking lot and groaned, "It's raining again, its November for Christ sake!"

They were going to brave the rain when Ron stopped, it was a long walk to his house, and it was mostly up hill. "What time is it?" he asked Harry,

"Nearly 4:35, why?" responded Harry.

"God we were in there a long time... my brothers get out of practice right about now, they can give us a ride home," the boy's started toward the parking lot.

"Quick!" Ron shouted, "Their about to leave-" the two of them took off across the parking lot, sprinting through the rain towards a old Previa, which at one time may have been blue. Now it was a sad grey.

Harry sat panting in the back dripping on the seat, crammed up against a pile of smelly duffel bags. Ron's lanky frame was bent in all sorts of odd angles to fit in next to him. Two identical red heads sat in the front, and had turned around to look at the two dripping boys in the back seat.

"Would you look at this- it's Ronnie and I dun know who that one is." said the one in the drivers seat.

"Stuff it Fred," muttered Ron scowling.

The boy in the drivers seat rolled his eyes, "I'm George- that's Fred, Honestly you call yourself our brother."

The passenger- Fred looked confused, "I thought I was George."

Ron kicked his seat, "Now look here," said George- the real one, " you better be nice or we'll make you walk, and who's your friend?'

"I'm Harry," said Harry.

"Nice to meet you Harry-"

"Charmed I'm sure-"

"Just simply smashing-"

"Can we go home now?" asked Ron crossly, Harry asked if they did that a lot, Ron just grimaced.

The rust bucket careened out of the parking lot, Harry found much to his dismay that his seat belt didn't work- something about a pretzel getting stuck in it, and as Fred (or was it George, he couldn't tell) took a hard left onto a rut filled dirt road he slid across the seat and crashed into Ron.

"Get Off'," muttered Ron. He was smashed up against the car door, Harry climbed back on to his half of the seat, "sorry mate."

The car crested the top of a huge hill, when the engine sputtered and died.

"God-Dammit!" Not again, " snapped driver; he pounded on the steering wheel, while the other one darkly muttered, "Piece of shit," under his breath, "Third time this month."

Fred begrudgingly climbed out of the toasty warmth to see what was wrong, a few minutes later he viciously kicked the front fender and crawled mud covered and dripping into the front seat.

"Now what?"asked Ron.
"We get out and push," answered Fred, "Harry, you get up front and steer, don't let it go into the ditch or this'll take all night."

"At least its not too far- its just all up hill" said George cheerily.

"Fan-fucking-tastic," muttered Ron.

Harry found himself in the front seat, trying to keep the car on the road while the Weasley brothers struggled to push the car home, much cursing ensued. When they were about half way, Harry switched with a soaking and mud covered Ron. Harry was soon just as wet and dirty, the road was slick, and it was easy to fall in the mud.

Eventually Ron steered the car into the bottom of a long drive way, and stuck his head out of the window, "We gonna leave it down here?"

Fred nodded, he and George were panting, "I'd be suicide to try and get it up that hill."

Ron clambered out, the rain had finally stopped, but the four of them were still soggy and cold.
"First water usage," called Ron out of the blue.

"Second," the twins chorused, they turned to glare at each other.

But before they could argue Ron piped up, "actually Harry gets second- guest rule."

"Fine, but I third," grumbled George.

All the way up to the house Fred whined about not getting any hot water, George told him at least he'd get to shower before Ginny- and that at least seemed to cheer him up. Harry still wasn't exactly sure what they were on about.

He immediately liked the Weasley's house- it was unlike any he'd ever seen, the second and third stories bent at an odd angle and the whole thing looked like it leaned to the left.

The boys stumped up the steps onto the porch, Harry could hear the rain start up again on the metal roof. The yard was large, a garden wrapped around the front and stretched to the edge of the steep embankment leading to a rushing stream.

Harry followed Ron inside past a huge pile of old discarded mismatched rubber boots. The door led to the kitchen, where Fred and George kicked off their shoes.

"It's bloody freezing in here," muttered one of them.

"So start a fire," said Ron, he showed Harry where to throw his bag and shoes, "Come on Harry lets get dried off."

George wandered into the living room to start a fire, and Fred explored the depths of the fridge, he pulled his head out long enough to inquire about the time, it was nearly five, according to the only working clock down stairs- the one on the temperamental computer, the one of the stove was always wrong.

"Better hurry with that shower Gin'll be home soon," Fred told Ron.

Ron didn't waste any time and dragged Harry up the two flights of stairs to his room, "It's not much, but it works," he said, ear's red. "I think it's brilliant," said Harry.

Ron's room was on the third floor, near to the bath room. The ceiling and one of the walls were slanted, with a sky light that let in more light then the small window over his bed. Everything in Ron's room was orange, from his comforter to the posters emblazon with "Chudley Cannons"

Ron dug around in the low wardrobe against the far wall and tossed Harry pants, a tee-shirt and intensely maroon sweater, a large R on the chest.

"Mum makes them for us every Christmas- she always forgets that I hate maroon, you change, I'll be back in bit then you can have the shower," Ron disappeared into the narrow hall.

Ron didn't take long, neither did Harry, by the time he came down stairs warm and dry; Ron was in the kitchen. George went barreling up the stairs so he and Fred would have time to shower before Ginny got home- she Harry learned was the youngest and only girl in the family, she also apparently used all the hot water.

Ron sat at the kitchen table, when Harry came in, "The tea's nearly done,- then lets go in the living room it's warmer."

All four boys sat around the wood stove, and Harry told them that London weather wasn't all that different since it seemed to rain here all the time any way, when he heard a door slam out side and someone stomp across the porch. The front door flew open, and the boys saw a flash of red as Ginny raced up stairs.

Fred's voice echoed up after her, "Hello to you too, Gin!"

Mrs. Weasley followed, arms full of groceries, "Fred-George-Ron, get in here and help me!" she said, setting the bags down in the kitchen, the boys trooped in, Harry following along, "How was you day- oh hello dear, I don't know you," said Smiling at Harry.

Harry decided that he liked Mrs. Weasley.

He ended up not meeting Ginny until dinner, the family was crowded around the two tables in the kitchen, Mr. Weasley, (Mrs. Weasley told him the two eldest- Bill and Charlie had moved out, but would be back that weekend- Percy was at collage.)

Mrs. Weasley bustled around making a mouth watering dinner. Fred had been elected to tell her about the car trouble- it seemed that George had to last time and Ron was exempt because Harry was over.

"Mum- the car's broke again. We had to push it home its a total piece of shit."

"Fred-! Language!" she snapped, Fred made a face, at her back, "I'm sure it's fine we'll just have Bill take a look at it when he comes home for the weekend," she said.

"Well what are we gonna do for the rest of the week?" asked George.

"Take the bus- it won't kill you," she told them stirring the peas.

"MUM!" they chorused in outrage.

"Oh-hush! Ignore them Harry dear- their just lazy."

Harry laughed, and Ron kicked him- Harry never wanted to leave.

Mr. Weasley came blustering in the kitchen door with a great gust of wind at his back. "Christ- what a storm," he announced, taking off his sopping overcoat, "Hello Molly, Boy's- oh hello I don't know you"

"I'm Harry Potter, sir."

"Hello then Harry- you know you ought to call your parents-"

"And tell them your staying over," cut in Mrs. Weasley, "It's not safe in that storm."

"Maybe it's freeze over night and school will be cancel," said Ron dreamily.

"Dream on kid," said Mr. Weasley,

"Here's to hoping," added Fred.

Mrs. Weasley dropped a heavy pan full of scrumptious looking potato's and chicken on the table, "Harry dear, you more them welcome to stay over any time, if you'd like."

"Thanks Mrs. Weasley, I'd better go call my mum, " Said Harry, "where's the phone?"
Ron directed him to where the phone ought to be- it wasn't. It cause a house wide search that was ended when Mrs. Weasley yelled up to Ginny, "Ginevra! Dinner and bring the phone down with you!"

Ginny came stomping down the stairs, phone in hand. She dropped it on the table, she huffed and sat on one of the wooden chairs, "Don't call me Ginevra."

Harry was glad the phone had been unearthed and he and other Weasley's didn't have to hunt anymore, as they had quickly run out of plausible places to look, ("well it could be under the couch- or in the stove, I guess- there was that one time" said George, "But that was us-" interjected Fred)

He disappeared unnoticed by Ginny into the living room, phone in hand, he had to pull out his cell phone- he didn't get service this far out into the country, to find his home number. he figured it was time to learn it as it didn't seem likely that his parents would want to leave any time soon.

He dialed, his mother picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Mum, it's me."

"Harry, where are you? The weather's awful."

"I'm at my friend Ron's house, his mum said I should stay over,"

"Well, the weather is bad, I suppose she's right, you should stay over-"

"Bye Mum,"

When Harry re-entered the kitchen, everyone just sat down to eat, Ron had saved him a spot by the widow.

"She says I can stay- thank you Mrs. Weasley," said Harry, as he sat down, Ginny looked up from her potato's and turned an unusual pink.

"Oh, it's no trouble Harry dear, like I said, you can stay over whenever you'd like."

Harry smiled and tucked into the piles of wonderful food, she'd made. He ate all he could and wished he had room for more. He greatly enjoyed dinner with the Weasley family.

Dinner was spent in pleasant conversation- interspersed with Mrs. Weasley vehemently scolding the twins about something that had the rest of the table in uproarious laughter. After dinner the family, plus Harry moved into the living room- where it was warmer, Harry and Ron did their homework on the rug in front of the wood stove, while the twins split theirs and were done in no time.

Mrs. Weasley grilled each child in turn about their week, and how school was going, it was Ron's turn when Percy called, he cheered quietly.

Ron explained with the help of and an eager Ginny that Percy had bogged of to some Ivy league school learning how to be an even more pompous git. Harry found that Ginny liked to sit just a bit to close for comfort.

Later when he lay on extra mattress on Ron's floor, he was happier then he'd been in a long while. His sides still hurt from laughing, getting the mattress out of Bill- the eldest room, up the stairs and into Ron's room proved quite a project.

It took a good while to clear off Ron's floor, so the mattress could even get into the room. Fred and George had been roped into helping Mrs. Weasley to haul the thing up the stairs, while Ginny watched from the landing.

In the process Harry was nearly knocked down the stairs twice. Now he and Ron lay in the dark, "I think my sister's got a thing for you."

"I noticed," said Harry, sighing.

"So what are you going to do about it?" challenged Ron. Harry quited, this was question that he wanted to answer right.

"Well," he said, " she's a nice girl- and pretty but she's your younger sister and I'm sort of with someone."

Ron seemed to approve of his answer- at least he didn't try and trotted him.

"Oh-who?" asked Ron, he sounded sort of funny.

"Someone back in England.

"Oh, okay, nice." Ron let out a reviled breath.

"You were worried I'd say Hermione weren't you?"

" Well-I-yeah."

"Don't even worry about it- we're just mates. She's mad about you."

"Is she really?" asked Ron hopefully.

"Utter bonkers."

Ron smiled, "awesome."

Long after Ron dropped off, Harry lay awake, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled the blanket over his head. the screen lit up, blinding him, when he could see again, he had no messages, no texts and no missed calls. His heart sank and switched the phone back off, and forced himself to try and sleep.