Chapter Four: IMPRESSIONS

Harry had never wanted to laugh so much in his life as when he helped Draco find some muggle clothes that would suit him. First Draco looked absolutely bewildered at the tee shirts and hoodie Harry tossed over for him to try. He was actually supposed to wear those things?

"This somehow seems wrong," he confessed while gazing at himself in the mirror. "What do you blokes see in wearing these types of shirts? And so many of them at one time?"

Harry had been refolding some pants after pulling out a pair of jeans for Draco to use and turned around at that comment. Draco had made the mistake of putting the hoodie on first with the tees on over it, making him appear bunched up and rather silly. Harry's face blossomed out into an enormous grin at seeing his former enemy rigged up that way with a pointed hood towering over his head like a misshapen horn.

"Um, well….you've just got it backwards. Here….put these on first, he said while trying to control his mirth. Seeing Draco become even more self-conscious at his ignorance in all things muggle, he kindly added, "This reminds me of when I first found out about the wizarding world. I was broom over wand confused over practically everything, but it sorted itself out eventually. No worries about this," he said as he waved his hand in Draco's direction. "Just do your posh thing, and if you do make a mistake, people won't pick up on it. They'll just think you're trying to make a fashion statement or something."

Do my posh thing? Draco thought. "Well, okay….thanks, Pott….ah, Harry," he smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, just habit. It may take me a bit to get used to that."

"Gotcha." Harry's eyes twinkled in amusement. Holding up a pair of trainers, he said, "Now, here's something else you can start getting used to….."

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After an hour of instructing Draco in the ways of muggle-dressing, showing him the benefits of an electric shaver and convincing him that gel was not the last word in grooming one's hair, Harry was exhausted and hungry.

"I don't know about you, but I'm starved," he said as his stomach growled. "Wanna go see what Molly's made?"

"Um….yes, that sounds good," admitted Draco. He just then realized he hadn't eaten since yesterday morning.

"Well, come on then. Bangers and beans await!"

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Both the boys felt a good deal better and more relaxed around each other after they had, as Molly expressed it, "Stuffed themselves silly."

"But it was so scrummy, Molly," Harry teased. "Especially the tarts."

"Harry James Potter! You got into my tarts? Those were for the meeting tonight!"

"Couldn't help myself….not when I saw they were raspberry." Jumping up from his chair and ambling over to the stove where Molly was standing, he kissed her on the cheek, earning him a mock slap to his shoulder while she huffed, "Fred and George have been a bad influence on you, I can tell."

"Um….Mrs. Weasley, …I had a tart, too. Don't blame it all on Harry." Draco felt like he wouldn't be getting to a good start with the matriarch of the Order if he wasn't honest.

Molly's eyes softened at that admission. Earlier, when the boys had been upstairs, Lucius and Narcissa told those that had remained in the kitchen all that Draco had suffered at the manor. Molly's mother-bear tendencies made an appearance when she heard the details of all that happened. She made up her mind that she'd make sure he'd get the nurturing he needed to bounce back from that type of abuse. It no longer mattered that the Malfoy family had always looked down on the Weasleys and had rubbed in their faces their relative poverty; her mother heart ached over the rich but poor boy. As far as she was concerned, from now on, he was hers.

"Quite all right my dear, quite all right," she soothed as she busied herself while trying to hide her tender emotions. "Your mother said you hadn't been eating to her satisfaction, so it pleases me to fatten you up." Harry snorted at the word 'fatten'.

"Tubby," he mouthed to Draco while grinning like a loon.

"Shut it." Draco couldn't help but smirk back. Merlin, it felt good to be free enough to do that again!

"Alright boys, why don't you go somewhere else if you're done here. And go see when Hermione's bringing her group for breakfast. I know they always eat like there's no tomorrow, so I'd like to be prepared."

"Righto ol' girl," Harry managed to get out before Molly started swatting him with a wet dishrag, "Ew! Molly! That's disgusting!"

Molly starting laughing at Harry and the way he was dancing around her, trying to fend off the towel. "That'll teach you for stealing my tarts!"

"Okay! I know when I'm not wanted!" Harry motioned to Draco, "That's our cue to leave. Come on, I know where Hermione should be."

Following Harry as they left the kitchen, Draco noticed they were taking some stairs down to a floor he hadn't noticed earlier. "When did these appear?" he asked, referring to the stairs.

"When I needed them to take us to the training room. You'll find that a lot of the house is under an enlargement spell, but it's spelled not to show until we need it. Helps in privacy and in cleaning too, or so Molly says."

"But what if you need it, and can't see it?"

"Doesn't work that way. Remember the Room of Requirement? It didn't show up until you wanted it for something. And when you needed it, it was there. Same principle." Harry stopped for a second as he reached the last stair step. "Hear that? That's Hermione training her group."

Draco paused to listen. He heard a dulled pounding rhythm playing over and over; boom, boom…da,da…..boom, boom. What was that? He looked in askance at Harry, but all the latter did was grin back at him. "Come on, Mate. I can't wait to see your face."

Curious and mystified at Harry's remark, he followed him until they reached the end of the hall on that floor. With his hand on the knob, Harry paused to look back at Draco, and changing his countenance to one of complete seriousness, said, "Remember when I said we believe in second chances here? Please don't forget that when you see what's in there."

"What?"

"Just…..try to remember. Try to understand."

Now Draco felt a bit of alarm. Just what was in that room? What did it have to do with him? And why was it connected to Granger? "Okay," he promised.

Harry nodded his head, satisfied with that answer, and turned the knob to open the door. The muffled rhythm that Draco had heard on the stairs now blasted forth in a syncopated Latin beat. Holding his ears, he looked around. A muggle would automatically recognize the room as a gym, but Draco had no reference to what he was seeing. He and Harry were on the second floor that opened up and wrapped around the first floor of a massive room. There, in the middle of the bottom floor was Hermione, with her hair in a high ponytail and dressed in black yoga pants and a white tee shirt that had something on it about girls being spicy?...that didn't make sense. However, Draco didn't give it much thought, because he couldn't quit staring at the witch. She was wearing the most fitted clothes he had ever seen on a female. He had always before thought of Granger, if he ever thought of her at all, as an unfeminine, swotty, know-it-all Mudblood. The past summer showed him how wrong he had been to think of her as the latter and this moment was showing him he was equally wrong with thinking the former. She was…Blimey! he gasped….…..Beautiful. Draco tried to swallow, but his mouth was suddenly dry at watching her move before him. When did Granger turn into that? He could clearly see she had lean muscles defining her legs and arms and was perfectly curved and shaped where all women wished to be, as her clothing did nothing to disguise her form. She was dancing and twirling to the beat of the music while barking out commands to her class of two. And the two! If Draco hadn't been gobsmacked before when viewing Hermione, he certainly was now. In fact, it was the only thing that could've taken his eyes off of her at that moment. For following the movements of Hermione to the letter were Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, his old Hogwarts mates and bodyguards….and they were as changed as Hermione. Goyle had grown a couple of inches in height, gained some muscle and was now sporting a Fu Manchu that gave him an air of sophistication. Crabbe, however was the biggest change. Instead of looking like the proverbial walking meatball, he'd let his hair grow out to about the length of Harry's, lost about 4 stones in weight and was showing a killer six-pack underneath his workout tank top. Draco had unconsciously dropped his jaw open in astonishment as he watched the trio go through the synchronized dance steps.

"Slide and kick! Again! And one, and two, and…."

"Oi! "Mione! You about done down there?" Harry interrupted, having to shout over the din of music. Hermione looked up and was frozen by the sight she saw. For a second, she wondered if she was seeing things. Was that Draco Malfoy, actually Draco Malfoy, in jeans and a hoodie? She stopped in her tracks and was almost run over by Crabbe, since he had not noticed her coming to a standstill.

"Ow, 'Mione, sorry 'bout that….er," he said as he scratched his head, wondering why Hermione had become as still as a statue, "Whatcha doing? Aren't we going to finish?"

Hermione answered by pointing to where Harry stood.

"What th' ….?" he gasped. "Greg, look!

"I see him," Goyle said as he gave a level stare at his one-time crony. "I never thought I'd see the day when you would be standing in Order Headquarters. What's your game, Draco…..or is it Death Eater now? Why are you here?"

The pained looked on Draco's face after hearing his former friend's condemnation was obvious to all.

"The Malfoys have defected from Voldemort," Harry spoke up, trying to spare Draco from any more slurs from the sweaty boy below. "He's one of us, now," he said as he laid his hand on Draco's shoulder while speaking in a tone that ended all argument. Draco turned to stare at the man beside him. He was surprised at Harry's defense, although he told himself he should have known a Gryffindor would be unable to keep silent at a time like that. He envied the trust and respect that was shown to Harry, as no one challenged his statement.

"Harry, all the Malfoys?...when did this happen? …Why wasn't I….,"

Harry interrupted what he knew would be a stream of questions from Hermione. "Hermione, I wasn't keeping anything from you. This happened late last night after you had gone to bed. They barely escaped with their lives. And…they brought Tonks back to us."

Hermione gasped at that news. "Tonks is back? Why didn't you tell ME!" she hollered as she started toward the door that led to the stairs. "I've got to see her…..see how's she's doing…..wait," she paused in her movements and turned back to Harry. "Do we know all that happened? Who took her? Where was she…...,"

"Hermione, Stop!" Harry shouted. When he saw he had her attention, he said, "Molly's tended to her. She was injured, but thankfully it was nothing that couldn't be mended. The Malfoys were able to get her out of there before something really bad happened."

Every eye turned to look at Draco when Harry said that.

"You hel…helped Tonks?" Hermione's voice wavered. "Really?"

Draco stared down at the curly-haired witch. "Yes. Well…..more my father and mother than me…but yes."

Hermione's intelligent brown eyes stared at Draco as if she was trying to figure out a hard puzzle. Crabbe looked bewildered. Goyle, however, looked suspicious.

"Think it might be a good time to bring up the second chance thing again?" Draco joked while nodding toward the trio. Harry cracked a grin at that and whispered back, "Who said they haven't given it to you? You're still in one piece, aren't you?" Without waiting to see what Draco would say to that, he told the group that Molly was ready for them to come to the kitchen to eat breakfast. Crabbe didn't need to be told twice. He ripped off his sweaty t-shirt, revealing those hard abs Draco had seen. Looking at the sacks that were near the door he said, " 'Mione, do you have my clean shirt? Did you put me one in your bag?"

"And why should she have a clean shirt?" Draco thoughtlessly asked before he realized how the question might sound. He only meant he didn't know why Crabbe needed Granger to see to him ….Merlin, wasn't he old enough to tend to himself? But after it came out of his mouth, he realized it might sound like …sound like…..the mudblood thing once again. Draco sighed and looked down apologetically to Hermione.

"I didn't mean that the way…..," he got out before Vincent interrupted him.

"Don't you dare go at Hermione!" he shouted while moving closer to her and putting her a little back behind him as if to protect her. "She's my best friend!"

"That goes for me, too," Greg added, looking up at Draco. "We didn't know what a best friend was until we got to know her. We certainly never would have found out hanging around you."

"I didn't mean….I wasn't trying to imply…."

"What were you actually saying then, Malfoy?" a soft voice asked. Hermione looked up at him with her arms crossed. Never mind that her doing that made her t-shirt tighten even more. Draco momentarily forgot what he was going to say.

"I just meant…oh, blast, I shouldn't have opened my mouth at all. I just didn't know why Vin was acting like a child and you his mother. He's too old for that nonsense now."

Hermione smiled. "All my boys are helpless without me, didn't you know that?" she quipped as she ran her hand through Crabbe's shaggy hair.

"Too true, 'Mione," Harry chuckled. "And she'll be caring for you, too if you stay here,' he said as he looked at Draco.

The sides of Draco's mouth twitched upward after hearing that. He didn't think that would be a problem.

AN: I hope you have questions! Questions like: Where is Ron? Why are former Slytherins at the Order safehouse? What's the training all about? The next chapter will reveal a lot. Leave a review! They really do make one write faster! Bye 'til next time!