Thanks for sticking with me, guys…this is a more serious chapter, so it took a bit more work for me to be happy with it. Hopefully I can get the next chapter up sooner, but no promises…;p

Also, this chapter goes to Allythizelibe, for being the 123rd follower…just 'cause the perfection of 123 is just…perfect. ;p Thanks to all of you following and reading and favoriting and especially REVIEWING! Love all you guys! :)

All was quiet in the Gryffindor first year boys' dorm. Five boys lied sleeping inside, but one of the six that occupied the dorm was too busy in his agonizing thoughts to think about sleep. He was too dignified to toss and turn, but he did fidget a little with his hands.

What will Father say when he finds out? The little blond aristocrat thought wildly. What will he do?

Why are you even thinking about this – you know what he'll do.

Perhaps, but I don't like to dwell on the thought of getting caned when I go home for Christmas.

He tried, but he was only eleven years old, and after a while of thinking, he couldn't help the tears that spilled from his eyes. He rolled over onto his stomach and clutched the pillow, cramming a corner of it into his mouth and biting down to keep from being heard by any others in the dorm.

And while the other five slept peacefully, Draco Malfoy sobbed as feelings of dread, horror, and loneliness washed over him.

Harry noticed throughout the next couple of days, that the Malfoy boy was very…broody. He was quiet most of the time, though his face was pensive, and every time the owls came in with the mail, he held himself rigid, as though waiting for horrible news. When someone did deign to say something to him, he snapped at them before making a quick exit.

Harry hadn't spoken much to him since that first night at the Welcoming Feast, but he knew that something was wrong. Even Ron had begun to ease up on his hate of the blond, apparently accepting that he must belong there, for the Sorting Hat was never wrong, according to most. But, Draco still ignored them.

Harry thought he might understand what the boy was going through, having heard many stories from Sirius of how he'd gone to the House that the Black family had hated and was punished for it. He suspected that this was much the same with Draco, but he wasn't sure how to go about reassuring the boy.

So, he sent a letter to Sirius, asking for advice.

On Wednesday morning, he received a reply back by owl, hardly noticing that a black owl had landed in front of Draco with his own letter, and Draco was staring at it with an expression of dread and a paler face than normal. He opened the letter from his godfather and read over it silently.

Harry –

I'm glad that you're concerned about this other boy, especially as he is a Malfoy. From what I understand, the Malfoys are very much like the Blacks are in their ideals and values, so I imagine Draco Malfoy will have much of the same Slytherin expectations as I did. Lucius was a Death Eater during the War, and Narcissa is my cousin, so I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that he is going to receive much the same reaction as I did when I was sorted into Gryffindor.

I can't speak for him of course, but when I was going through the first couple of weeks at Hogwarts, I was very conflicted, wondering things such as whether the Sorting Hat was right, I was a traitor to my family, and whether or not I was going to be disowned for going into Gryffindor – things like that. I was a bit snappy, I'll admit, but even though I told people to go away, I really did want someone to be there, and your dad's attitude about it all helped me pull through it.

All the advice I can really give with certainty is to tell you that all Draco needs right now is a friend. He needs reassurance that he's where he belongs, where people will accept him, and – being a boy – won't want to get all mushy about feelings and such. He's going to want to ignore it, but you can't let that happen. I'm not saying you need to have a deep, long and drawn-out discussion about his feelings, but a few comments here and there would help, so that he doesn't bottle everything up – if he does that, it will all come out in a big explosion later.

Just be casual about it all, act like nothing's wrong and it's normal for it to be like this, because it is. Don't let this worry you, but he's going to need something to take his mind off of the sure punishments to come every time he goes home now. He'll need you to be his friend.

Hope this helps you – sorry I couldn't offer more.

– Sirius

Harry's eyes zeroed in on the phrase "sure punishments to come", and he felt dread building in the pit of his stomach. He was by no means Draco's best friend – he didn't even know his favorite color – but no one deserved to be "punished" in the way Sirius was implying. He remembered stories of the Black family from Sirius and James before, but they had never been explicit about what went on in Sirius' childhood home. He remembered a comment Sirius had made to James a couple of years before when they had thought he wasn't listening – "I don't care that they're dead now, James – the last time I left that blasted house, my backside was bloodied and infection was spreading, thanks to dear old Mum and Dad's ministrations. I wouldn't care if they left that damn house filled to the brim with galleons – I'm bloody well not setting foot there ever again!"

So, he had a pretty good idea of what sort of "punishments" Draco had to look forward to, if his parents were anything like Sirius'.

He looked up, just as he saw Draco crumple the parchment in his hand and rise from his seat. An odd expression was on his face as he turned away; one of dread, anger, confusion, and determination. He made his way quickly out of the hall, and Harry grabbed his bag and rose from his seat, shoving the letter from Sirius in his pocket.

"I'll see you guys in Charms," he said quickly to Ron and Neville, and before they could respond, he ran from the Great Hall.

He quickly found Draco, as the blond boy hadn't made any attempt at hiding himself and was walking with deliberate steps toward the Entrance Hall. Harry walked quickly to catch up with him, slowing as he got closer. He didn't say anything as they walked, but he noticed that Draco was relaxing infinitesimally as they went.

"So…" Harry finally said, and he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Draco looked at him warily, as though dreading what he was about to say. He suspected that Draco thought he would talk about his parents, or the fact that he was in Gryffindor, or anything else falling under that category.

But Harry simply said in an offhanded manner, "How do you feel about Professor Quirrell? Odd for a chap like that to be the DADA professor, don't you think?"

The tension on Draco's face broke, and he gave a slightly strained smile. "Honestly," he said, "How is it that he supposedly got out of the Black Forest alive after meeting vampires there? Did he stutter at them?"

"Now, don't be mean," Harry said reprovingly, before grinning and saying, "Of course he must've strangled them with his turban."

Draco laughed, and Harry smiled. It was the start of a beautiful friendship.

Harry was stunned when he became the Gryffindor Seeker. It had been an accident, really – one of the Slytherins had stolen Neville's Remembrall, and Harry had gone after it when it was thrown across the grounds and Madam Hooch had taken Neville to the Hospital Wing to treat his broken wrist.

He'd been ecstatic, of course, and had been unable to keep from telling Neville, and Draco and Ron had happened to be there when he blurted it out, so they knew too. They had promised to keep it a secret though, as McGonagall had requested Harry keep it under wraps until the Quidditch game.

He sent a letter to James and Sirius of course, telling them what had happened, and they had sent enthusiastic letters back, along with a package that turned out to be a well disguised Nimbus 2000.

Harry couldn't stop himself from grinning all through the week, even as his stomach fluttered with nerves. He hoped he wouldn't embarrass himself – he'd never played a game of Quidditch with the older people before.

Oliver was ecstatic of course – he'd known for a while how great a flier Harry was; and it was Oliver who had first said that Harry would make a great Seeker, when he had been only five years old. Whenever he saw Harry in the hallway, he grinned broadly in pride and excitement. Harry felt better whenever this happened – if Oliver, being Captain, was confident that they would win with Harry on the team, he must've been good.

Harry had a lot on his mind when it came time for the Halloween feast. First was the three-headed dog that he, Neville, Draco, Ron, and that annoying girl Hermione had come across when Harry had gone out to explore and the others wanted to come along. Of course the tag-alongs all had different reasons for going along, but it was the idea nonetheless.

Then there was Professor Snape. Over the short time the man had been his professor, Harry discovered that James and Sirius were very accurate in their descriptions of the dour man. Harry had tried in the first couple of weeks to get on the man's good side, but it only seemed to annoy him further, subtracting more and more House points because of "kissing up to the professor". He wasn't kissing up – he was simply studying Potions harder than any other class and trying really hard in the making of the Potions themselves. But nothing ever satisfied him, so he'd decided the day before – when he lost points because of breathing too close to the cauldron – that he was just going to give up. If he was going to piss off the hook-nosed git no matter what he did, why bother trying?

Then there was of course Lily and Remus, and effectively his dad and godfather. They had been killed on Halloween, and James and Sirius and him always did something on Halloween in remembrance to the ones they had lost. He wasn't sure what he was going to do this year, but he wasn't exactly in the mood to gorge himself on the junk food at the feast. Neville kept shooting him comforting looks and reassuring pats to his shoulders all day long. Harry found it annoying and endearing at the same time, so he didn't say anything about it.

Then he found out during the feast that Hermione was crying in the girl's bathroom due to a callous comment of Ron's from several hours earlier. He gave a slightly guilty-looking Ron a disapproving look, but figured nothing was going to cause the two of them to get along, so he went along picking at the food that on any other day would look decidedly delicious.

By the time Quirrell had come in, screaming about a troll in the dungeons, Harry had been ready to retire to his bed for the night.

And then Draco remembered Hermione, who was still in the bathroom, and wouldn't know about the troll. Without another word or thought, all four of them had rushed off to the bathroom, just in time to see the troll go in.

And then, as they began to regain their breath from fighting off the troll where Harry had ended up on the troll's back with Draco and Neville tried to pull Hermione out while Ron spelled the club to conk the troll on the head, the door had opened and Snape, Quirrell, and McGonagall had come rushing in. After Hermione told some story about going to fight the troll and House points had been deducted and rewarded respectively, McGonagall had directed Harry to follow her.

And that was how Harry found himself standing in the Headmaster's office, the fury of both James and Sirius palpable in the room.

James was furious. He was beyond furious – he was worried, too. How could Dumbledore have possibly overlooked a troll roaming about, coming into Hogwarts, going to one of the bathrooms that just so happened to have a girl in it who didn't know about the troll so that his son and son's friends felt that it was necessary to go and pull her out of the unknown danger and end up having to fight off the troll themselves?!

He was aware that his thoughts were hardly stringing together coherently, but he didn't care. Harry and his three new friends had taken it upon themselves to go and save another girl in their House, and the heroics were all fine and dandy, but also absolutely irrational. Couldn't they have said something to a teacher rather than risking their own lives?! It never ceased to amaze him how Harry could be so smart and yet so foolish at the same time.

He and Sirius had gone to the Headmaster's office, intending to surprise Harry to get him out for a while. After all, this was the night that his mum had died, and James and Sirius had always tried to make this night special, to mourn their lost loved ones and then move on. But after showing up by Floo in the Headmaster's office, they were told to stay there for a bit of time. They hadn't been informed of why, but they knew something was up when McGonagall was sent to fetch Harry from his dorm – where he should've been – and she came back with a flustered look, a somewhat beaten-up Harry by her side. He didn't seem to be upset, however – in fact, he seemed almost pleased with himself.

But then McGonagall told Sirius, James, and Dumbledore what had occurred while they had waited upstairs, and James lost it. Harry's pleased look had quickly disappeared in the brief moments he'd seen the looks on James' and Sirius' faces, though neither of them had said anything about it. Harry's expression of dread had only grown when James had requested to take Harry away for the night, and at Dumbledore's consent, the three had disappeared into the Floo.

As soon as they stepped out of the Floo, James still keeping a grip on Harry's arm, James spun Harry around and delivered a stinging smack to the boy's backside.

"Dad…" Harry tried to protest, but James silenced him with another sharp swat to his rear before marching him over to the sofa. He pushed him into the sofa, effectively forcing him to sit down and look up into the angry, worried faces of his father and godfather.

"What in Merlin's name were you thinking, Harry James?" James said tersely. "Please tell me why you found it necessary to go off and fight the troll on your own!"

"I was with Neville and Draco and Ron," Harry objected feebly.

"And you think that makes it better?!" James exclaimed. "You're all first years! What good does five do as opposed to two when you've only been at Hogwarts for two months?"

"We were just going to warn Hermione," Harry mumbled, rubbing his nose where he was sure some ash from the Floo fireplace stuck. "S'not like we knew the troll was going to show up…"

"Stop that mumbling and look at me when you're talking to me, Harry," James said sternly.

"You could have at least told the teachers where you were going off to," Sirius scolded, adding his two cents.

"What if one of you had died?" James demanded. "Would it have been such a spectacular plan then?"

"We weren't trying to go to stop a troll!" Harry insisted. "But it was because of Ron earlier saying stuff about Hermione that she was crying in the bathroom and didn't know about the troll!"

"You're not alone, Harry!" James said, though he seemed more weary than angry now. "There are teachers all around – even telling a Prefect would've been better than going off on your own!

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, looking down. He felt so overwhelmed already with his previous worries, and now with James and Sirius scolding him for going to help Hermione, he just didn't feel up to fighting anymore.

James sighed and sat down beside his son on the couch, wrapping an arm around him and pulling his head close to kiss the mop of dark hair. Sirius seated himself across from them on the coffee table.

"I know you are, kiddo," James said, rubbing a hand up and down Harry's back to soothe him. "And if this happened any other day, you can bet your broom that I would be taking you over my knee right now. But I'm not going to expect you to be clear-minded today when I can't even be the same myself."

He felt Harry sag tiredly against him, and a moment later a shuddering sob expelled from his gut. Sirius moved to sit on the other side of Harry, and for several minutes they comforted the boy as he cried his frustrations and sorrow.

When Harry finally lifted his head from James' shoulder and wiped at his eyes, James and Sirius had tear tracks on their own faces.

Without a word, James rose to his feet, pulling Harry up with him and allowing him to latch onto him like a koala bear as he had every other Halloween. James hardly processed that Harry was getting too heavy to carry like this as the three of them walked out the door and past the wards before apparating to Godric's Hollow, to visit the gravesites of Lily and Remus, just as they had together every other Halloween night.

So…that was a bit of a short chapter, but I felt like it was better to end on that note rather than it be immediately lighthearted when he goes back to school or something, because that would detract from the seriousness of this chapter.

You guys like? I hope so. :)