"I can't take it anymore!" Draco shouted alone in his room.

This was it; he was sick of it. He would no longer stand for it. He refused.

It had all begun two days ago, late on a Thursday evening three weeks after the latest attack. Everything had been running smoothly with one or two failed attempts by the Slytherins to get at him, stopped early by the careful watch of Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall respectively before any harm was done. Besides some misguided attempts at physical retribution, Draco was as close to feeling safe as he could possibly allow himself to be. It was almost three months since the entire ordeal began, and he was, for the life of him, actually getting used to the rhythm of going to class and being manhandled by Potter and Granger whenever they thought something wasn't right. The Gryffindors had been by his side, never derailing from their plans, on the look out, though Finnigan had to restrain himself from punching him in the face when Draco told him he suspected the Irish boy had to be put back in his kennel after the Gryffindor started making some crude jokes and laughing loudly as they walked down the hall. Though Potter had ripped him a new one when they had been alone, Draco had remained unphased. The way Finnigan had handled himself was distasteful, and he fully took the responsibility of saving the earth from stupidity one idiot at a time. He had related to Potter he was trying to make up for his apparent failure with him.

,

That had made Potter go quiet on him for a while, but he had eventually wooed him back to his charming company with some chocolate bought discreetly in underground dealings with the help some House Elves and a book Potter had never heard of on the various uses of ancient magic. It was interesting to watch Harry get that gleam of curiosity in his eye when Draco presented him with a part of magical life he had never heard of; without the strain of having to do homework assignments and write essays, Potter was actually a surprisingly eager student. Though Draco suspected it was partially due to whatever activities Harry was doing after classes, he was sure that some of the drive to learn, at least, was out of his own volition. It was increasingly evident, though Harry carefully avoided the conversation when Draco brought it up, that there was something he was not telling him. There was a pattern to Harry's exhaustion. He would disappear after classes for an hour or two and would resurface sweaty and hungry. A couple of times, he had actually fallen asleep while Draco got ready to catch a late dinner in the kitchens with him.

However, it only ever happened on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. The other days, he spent some of that time with his friends in Gryffindor before coming back to Draco's place. It had almost become a habit for them to share dinner together, although Potter would sometimes stray into the Great Hall, coming back with funny stories told to him by the Gryffindors. On those nights, Draco would be especially quiet when he came in for the night, and Harry had to work hard to get him to talk. It wasn't as if Draco did not understand. Of course he did; it was more that it stung to know that there were things going on outside his walls of which he was no longer a part. He could not go to the frigid Quidditch game or partake in trips to Hogsmeade. He was so disconnected from the outside world that he had no idea who had gained dominance in Slytherin or which families had risen or plummeted in status amidst the Pureblood social circles. It was simply getting harder and harder to ignore the frustration building under the surface of his cold demeanor.

When Potter had shown up on Thursday, shiny with sweat and grinning like an idiot, Draco had snapped. He had thrown cutting insults at Potter carrying more weight that was usual and had thrown him out of his rooms when Harry started demanding to know what was wrong, asking how he could make it better. The truth was that Draco was tired of Harry trying to make it better; he was so sick of depending on him for information and protection, and though the idiot wasn't as much as an inconvenience as he had been in the past, it still grated on his nerves that Harry was the only person with whom he shared actual conversation day in and day out. It was maddening and, though irrational, Draco hadn't wanted to see Harry's face. Potter had given him what he wanted, plenty of space, barely speaking to him on Friday and staying away for the night. Draco had tossed and turned in bed until very late but had fallen into an uneasy sleep where he dreamt of open skies and fresh air. So, here he was, in his stagnating room with nothing to do on a Saturday morning, sleep deprived and ridiculously pissed.

"Damn it," Draco yelled throwing his book on the ground, "Why aren't you interesting? Why is there nothing to fucking do?"

There was a sharp knock at the door. Draco kicked his book at the wall, stomping to the door and prying it open to stare out at a confused and guarded looking Potter. Apparently, he had hurt Harry's feelings, and the Gryffindor had no idea what to do. With a drawn sigh and roll of his eyes, Draco stepped back allowing him to pass through into the interior of the room. Harry glanced around the disheveled space with confusion. This was not like Draco, at all. Malfoy was neat almost to a fault, folding even his dirty clothes before placing them in the laundry bin. Yet now, there were pieces of scribbled on parchment scattered on the ground by the desk and books everywhere as if they had multiplied and spilled over. There was even a cup of cold tea on the coffee table.

Harry turned to look at Draco, whose blue button up shirt was wrinkled, and shook his head, "Malfoy, what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong. Everything is just fucking peachy dandy," Draco responded kicking away some parchment in fury when it got in his way.

"You just attacked a piece of paper. I think there's something wrong," Harry said cautiously.

"Well, your hair had been attacking you since you were born, trying to eat your face, but I don't point that out," Draco frowned.

Harry actually had to smile at that, "Yes you do. You point it out at least twice every day. Now, come on. What is the matter?"

"Nothing is the matter," Draco said throwing himself on his bed. "I told you I'm fine."

Harry stood up and walked to the bedroom, standing over him, "The necklace has been so hot that I had to take it put it outside my robes so it wouldn't burn my skin. That's not normal; you're agitated and I want to help."

"Well, that's just bloody fantastic, isn't it? Here comes Potter to rescue the day once more. No one needs you, so go away wonder four-eyes," he said coldly.

"Stop it," Harry said sternly. "You know I could be in Gryffindor right now completely ignoring that there is something obviously wrong. Quit your shit and act your age. If you don't want me here, fine, I can leave. You don't get to treat me like that, though."

Draco sat up and landed his head onto his hands, running his fingers down his scalp. He looked up at Potter and scrunched his eyebrows, "I'm sorry, Potter. You're right; it's not your fault."

"Holy shit, guys," Harry said looking around. "I think Earth just stopped spinning. Is this a joke? Is this a practical joke? Are you really there, Malfoy, or have I gone around the bend?"

"I have no doubt you have," Draco laughed at the other's antics. "Stop acting like a git."

Harry sat next to him on the bed and grabbed on to the stuffed dragon, playing with the bells, "So, are you going to tell me what's gotten into you aside from a massive case of the Pureblood arsehole-ish-ness?"

Draco dropped back on his back and stared at the ceiling, "I'm just so sick of being stuck in this room."

Harry stopped the tinkling of the bells and carefully sat down the toy by Draco's pillow, "Now, was that so hard?"

"Was it hard for you to abuse the privilege of being ugly?"

"That evil twinkle in your eye is the sun reflecting off the back of your skull."

Draco sighed and glanced over at him, "So, how are you going to fix it?"

"What?" Harry asked.

"You said you wanted to help," Draco pointed out. "So, how are you going to make it better?"

Harry sat in silence for a moment, thinking, then stood up, "I'm not sure yet, but give me a bit of time and I'll figure out something."

"Where are you going?" Draco asked him as he walked to the door.

"To make it better," Harry looked back with a smile and walked out of the room.

iIiIiI

"Harry," Hermione said worriedly, "I really, really don't think this is a good idea."

"Mate, as much as you know it pains me, I actually have to agree with her," said Ron biting back a grin when Hermione smacked his upper arm.

They were in the library, absconded in the back in a cubby by a tall window. It was almost four in the afternoon, and Harry had convinced them to join him after spending time alone fruitlessly trying to come up with something. Truth was, he was worried about Malfoy and he completely understood where the bloke was coming from. If he were the one trapped in the same room every day, he was sure that he would have snapped a long time ago. It was a testament to Draco's self discipline that he had remained in control for such a long time. Were he the one in that given position, he would want someone to help him, to take him out even for a bit to get some fresh air. He knew it was reckless and that in fact it wasn't a good idea, but what was he supposed to do? Hermione could very well sit there and tell him everything that could go wrong, but she hadn't seen Draco. He looked utterly miserable and it bothered Harry to not see the other boy in control.

Harry shut the book he was reading in disappointment and looked at them, "I know it's not the smartest thing- alright, it's not a smart thing to do, but you haven't seen him. The poor chap looks like he's going to take a spoon and gag himself."

"Harry," Hermione laid a hand on his arm, "I understand how frustrating it must be for Malfoy-"

"Frustrating? Hermione, I'm afraid he's going to take a blunt object and poke his eye out for something to do," Harry shook his head.

Ron laughed and looked at him dubiously, "A bit dramatic there, don't you think?"

Harry gave in and grinned, "Alright, a bit, but it doesn't change anything. I'm telling you, he looks horrible and his attitude is worse. If you won't do it for him, will you please do it for me? He's being a bloody terror."

"You know the antidote to that?" Ron asked him. At Harry's shrug he said, "Come and spend more time at Gryffindor with us."

"Ron, I just can't leave him alone."

"But you haven't left him alone in months, Harry, literally months. I'm sure that he can manage-"

"No," Harry said definitively. "How would you like being stuck in a room with nothing to do, a window five feet away taunting you with what you can't have?"

Hermione sighed and rubbed her face, "You aren't going to give up, are you?"

"Nope."

"Alright, then. Since asking Professor Dumbledore is out the window, and since we can't sneak out after hours along with the two of you, my best suggestion is for you to use your Invisibility Cloak," she said.

Harry nodded and pushed the new book he had picked up away, "That's what I have been thinking too. I just don't know how I feel about disclosing that bit of information with the former enemy."

"Glad to see you haven't completely gone to the dark side," Ron nudged him.

"I'm sure it will be fine; he'll be annoying and ask a bunch of questions, but I'm sure it won't go past that."

Hermione caught his eye, "Just please promise me you will be careful."

"Hermione, with Draco's life hanging in the balance, I don't think I have a choice," Harry answered seriously.

"Oh, so it's Draco now, is it?" Ron taunted him.

"Oh, shut up."

iIiIiI

When Harry knocked on the door and came into the room, Draco was having candy for a late dinner. It was after seven and after it was clear that Potter wasn't showing up to force him to go get some actual food, Draco had sulked by the fireplace, roasting some marshmallows with a poker. Though Harry would never say it for fear of untimely death, the blond looked pitiful. Things around the room looked better with the trash gone and the books back in place but around Malfoy different pieces of candy were scattered, littering the soft carpet. It was obvious by the mess that the Slytherin had already gone through a fair bit of chocolate and was working hard to finish a licorice wand while at the same time popping a sticky marshmallow into his mouth. When Harry joined him in the living room and sat on the couch, a smile was torn from him. Draco had a ridiculously forlorn look on his face and a bit of marshmallow was stuck just to the lower right of his bottom lip. If Harry wasn't as masculine as he was, he would even stretch to say it was kind of adorable, in a mad, little kid type of way.

"Your tastes do run for the dramatic, don't they?" Harry asked.

"Shut up, you stupid Gryffindor. I'm depressed."

"So you're going to eat away your sorrows? That seems like a pretty good idea. Sign me up for the depression thing," Harry said picking up a piece of candy by his foot.

Draco stared intently at a chocolate frog and asked, "Why did I have to save you, you waste or air and space? If I had left you to rot at the bottom of the lake, I would be holding court in Slyterin. I would be at the top of the Pureblood food pyramid making your life a living hell while living my glorious one. I should have really thought things through."

"That's a lovely sentiment, Malfoy. It almost makes me want to hex you the hell into tomorrow, but then I wouldn't get to tell you the news that I came here with."

Draco looked at him sideways, "What is it? Finally learned how to use your thumbs after sixteen years?"

"That too," Harry said twirling his fingers to prove his point while reaching into his bag. He grabbed the cloak and carefully tossed it on Draco's head, "I also thought you might want to go for a little midnight stroll."

"What is it?" Draco asked from underneath the fabric pulling it to his lap.

"You ticket out of here, for a couple of hours at least," said Harry.

Draco scanned the fabric and looked up in surprise, "Potter, this looks an awful lot like an Invisibility Cloak."

"Lucky bastard. I wish I had eyes like yours," Harry answered sarcastically.

"How do you-"

"Parting gift from my dad," Harry stood up and halted the string of questions he had no doubt was coming. "If you hold off on the questions and actually go with me to the kitchens to get some real dinner, I will answer your questions tomorrow. What do you say?"

"And you're going to use this to sneak us out of the castle?" Draco asked still handling the cloak with careful fingers.

Harry nodded, "Yes."

Draco looked at him and his face lit up, "Smashing. I'm starving."

iIiIiI

A little after midnight, Draco was pacing around the room nervously going to the window and into the living room, then back again. He would look up at the moon anxiously and would go check to make sure that the Invisibility Cloak hadn't disappeared in the five minutes since he had touched it last. Finally exhausting even his nerves, he joined Harry on the couch glancing over his shoulder as Harry perused the Marauder's Map to make sure that everything was safe. During dinner, Harry had shown him the enchanted parchment, knowing it was best to do it before they actually left. Draco had gazed at it for a long time, especially concentrating on the Slytherin common room where different dots could be seen apparently lounging in the common room. His face had hardened as he stared over the names, but he had said nothing about the actual map choosing instead to focus on his meal. It was a great surprise to Harry that Draco would show such tact and respect for his privacy going without asking about the Map after Harry struggled with initially describing it.

After dinner, Draco had gone back to his room while Harry left to confer with Hermione and Ron about their plans. They knew everything in case anything went wrong, though Harry assured them that he would do his very best to keep them both safe. Though neither liked it, they both accepted that Harry's mind wasn't likely to be changed and parted ways with a hug and a pat on the arm. When Harry had made it back to Draco's rooms, he had found the blond in cheery spirits sitting on his bed casually running his fingers over the stuffed dragon by his side. He had looked at Harry with a calculating eye when he came through the door and gave him a vibrant smile, trying to win Harry over. It immediately put him on guard; it was not natural for Draco to show him a nice disposition.

In the end, he had been right. A Slytherin was always a Slytherin, and now he was a Gryffindor conned out of a pair of sweat pants. For all of his galleons, Malfoy honestly did not own a piece of athletic material that was not somehow related to Quidditch. Worst of all, he wanted to go for a run. Harry had looked at him and had done a slow blink, having to ask in all seriousness if Malfoy had gone insane. It was early February, and the air was freezing. There was no way that Harry was going to run in this weather. His plan had been to get them into the grounds and go for a walk, securely protected underneath the cloak and warmed by several spells. In the end Draco had gotten him to agree by questioning his masculine pride, and it was not until some time later that Harry realized he was duped.

"Slimy Slytherin," Harry said under his breath as Draco walked ahead of him down a hidden passage.

Draco emitted a good natured laugh having apparently heard him and looked back, "We'll get some warm tea after we return. Now, hurry up."

"We wouldn't need warm tea if you didn't force me to go with you to run in below zero degree Celsius weather, Malfoy. To think, you actually had me half way convinced you were clever, then you went and pulled this," Harry said bitterly.

"Come off it," Draco said and halted when they came to a door. "Is it safe for us to go out there?"

Harry looked at the map to make sure and nodded, urging the blond forward once they were out in the open. They made their way into the courtyard, staying in the shadows beneath the cloak in case any part of them showed as they moved. For a moment Harry almost felt like one of those spies on the Telly he used to see when the Dursleys left him at home alone. He followed Malfoy towards the Quidditch Pitch and pulled back the cloak immediately regretting it as the wind tore at his face. It was far away enough from the castle and especially the Slytherins for them not to be seen, so there was little to worry about aside from perhaps trying to keep their fingers from freezing and falling off. Both quickly cast some warming spells and braved the weather.

Draco stretched his arms up, revealing a sliver of skin as Mrs. Weasley's jumper rose above the low slung sweat pants on his hips, and he breathed in deeply, "I missed this."

"Are you sure you wouldn't enjoy this more if we just walked around," Harry asked in a last ditch effort looking away from Draco's waist.

Draco glanced at him and grinned, "Not a chance. Come on, Potter, man up."

Harry glared at him but folded the cloak into the bag he had carried with them and put his wand into the holster Malfoy had given him for Christmas. With a roll of his eyes, a bad habit he had picked up from the Slytherin, he caught up with him as Draco began to job and said, "I still think this is a really stupid idea, Malfoy."

"If this is a stupid idea and you're doing it, what does this say about you?"

"Shut up and run," Harry said instead focusing on moving his limbs through the cold wind.

After a while, running actually became bearable and much preferable to the alternative. The motion warmed them and coupled with the heating spells, it was almost like running in normal conditions. Almost, if you counted trying to keep up with Malfoy normal. It made no sense that he would be in better shape than Harry after having stayed inside for so long, but he kept up a long steady stride which Harry struggled to maintain. After so long that Harry had lost sense of what time it could possibly be, he allowed himself to lag slightly behind and watched carefully waiting for an opportune time to carry out his nefarious plan. His breathing was labored and sweat was trailing into his eye, making it sting as he ran along. His chest felt like he had perforate a lung and there was cramp in his calf that had him limping slightly. Finally having had enough, Harry rushed forward and tripped Draco's feet taking him down to the ground heavily as he crashed into him from the back.

"Oh, ouch," Harry panted. "My mistake; I'm sorry."

Draco looked over at him where he sat trying to catch his breath looking completely unapologetic. He couldn't remember having felt this great in such a long time; his blood was pumping and his heart was beating against his chest in a quick but steady rhythm that had nothing to do with fear or anger. The weather was chilling, especially now that they weren't in motion, but he had been cooped up inside for so long that he didn't mind. He laid on the ground and stared up at the sky, not remembering ever being so happy at seeing the moon travel across its natural path. He felt a grin pull at the edges of his mouth as Potter clutched the side of his stomach and wheezed out in pain, glaring at him with a look that insinuated a great betrayal. The Gryffindor was flushed, his cheeks a rosy pink that brought out his eyes remarkably against his dark lashes, and his hair looked a holy terror. His lips were red, drawn tight as he stemmed a flow of curses aimed at the Slytherin. Biting his lip in good humor, Draco was more than willing to admit that Harry really wasn't that bad after all.

iIiIiI

Two days later after a grueling session with Snape, Harry limped to Draco's rooms completely pissed. He had been a bloody mess in there, and Snape had wasted no time in telling him what a failure he was. He knocked on Draco's door and threw down his bag on the ground once he was allowed in, wincing when he felt the muscle in his arm pull. Malfoy looked at him in amusement, going to lounge on the couch with his feet propped on the coffee table. He was still wearing Harry's sweat pants and had added to his ensemble one of Harry's white cotton t-shirts which barely reached down to the waistband of the pants. The idiot looked completely satisfied as if he didn't have a care in the world. Harry walked over slowly and sat on the far end of the couch, letting his legs fall heavily on Draco's lap.

"Hey, watch it," Draco said as the breath was knocked out of him.

"That's what you get, you dirty, vile, sneaky Slytherin. Con me into running in freezing weather, will you? I hurt, and now I have a cold," Harry pointed an accusatory finger refusing to move his legs.

Draco looked at him with incredulity, "Then go to Madame Pomfrey and get it fixed."

Harry looked for something to chunk at his head but fell back after finding nothing near, "It's not that easy, you prat. If I go, she's going to ask how I got sick. Then, she will let the Headmaster know, because she knows he cares. Do you really think he's going to believe some phony excuse I give him? No, he won't. Then, you and I both will get in trouble. So, you see, this is all your fault. I hope you're happy."

"I am happy, in fact," Draco smiled. "I'm not the one who looks like shit right now."

"And take off my clothes. You're going to stink them up with the stupid."

"Pouting and sulking like a girl does not suit you, Potter. Come on," he tapped on Harry's legs. "Get them up."

Harry released him and looked up at him through bleary eyes, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to the kitchens to get you some hot chocolate and myself a tea," Draco said benignly.

"Oh," Harry considered. "With some little marshmallows?"

Draco smirked and nodded, "Yes, with some little marshmallows."

iIiIiI

"Alright, Potter. This is enough," Draco said at three in the morning. "You have to go to the infirmary."

"No."

"You're not getting any better, and you can't go to sleep. What else do you propose we do?" Draco asked coming into the living room.

Harry shivered underneath the extra blankets Malfoy had thrown on him and said, "Maybe some more hot chocolate with the little marshmallows would help."

"If I get you some more hot chocolate with the little marshmallows and it doesn't make you feel any better, do you promise to go to the infirmary?" Draco asked, deciding that he had some responsibility in this mess.

Harry contemplated the proposition for a moment and nodded, "Yeah."

"Shake on it, then," Draco said reaching for Harry's hand. Once he held it, he frowned in concern, "Potter, you're really hot."

"Maybe the hot chocolate, then?"

Draco put his hand on Harry's forehead and shook his head, "Alright. I'll get you the hot chocolate, but you're going to Madame Pomfrey first thing tomorrow."

When he returned, Draco found Potter asleep. He sat down the cup and was going to turn into bed when the sleeping figure stirred and blinked. Draco bit his lip to stop an immediate smile and held out the cup, "I got it. I even put in some extra marshmallows."

Harry nodded and took the cup from him looking ridiculously grateful. Across from him on the armchair, Draco was doing a really great job at not laughing. Potter looked absolutely ridiculous. His hair was bunched up on one side and his eyes were watery. His nose was red at the tip, but despite all that, he smiled when he tasted the chocolate. He looked so appreciative of the warm liquid that Draco couldn't help it, a small laugh escaped him.

Potter did his best attempt at a glare and muttered, "It's not funny."

"I would beg to differ."

"I would beg to punch your face," Harry said aiming to be threatening but only making Malfoy laugh more.

Draco sat up with him until he finished his drink and then made him get back beneath the covers. Dark circles were forming underneath the blond's eyes, and as he settled down to sleep, Harry thought that it would be a surprise if either of them woke up in time to go to lessons tomorrow. As it was, his head was stuffy and he couldn't think too well, so he just closed his eyes. Malfoy dragged all the covers over him and waited until he had fallen asleep to turn off the light. As he was walking to his own bed, he cursed and turned back around. With great care, he grasped Potter's glasses and took them off, setting them on the coffee table until the morning.

iIiIiI

Harry woke up feeling like his head was stuffed with cotton balls; his ears felt like they had popped in the night and he had swollen sinuses. He could feel the light coming through the far window, but he disregarded it and kept his eyes closed, because, really, if he didn't see that it was morning, then how was he to be blamed? Hearing some shuffling, Harry sniffed and sat up allowing the covers to pool at his waist. He was warm and toasty, which made it difficult for him to initially focus. Grabbing his glasses, he looked in the direction of Draco's room, and what he saw caught him slightly by surprise.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked through a stuffy nose.

"Stealing your clothes," Draco answered pulling out a pair of Harry's jeans from one of his wardrobe drawers.

Harry gathered the thickest blanket, a fluffy blue one, and draped it across his shoulders. He walked closer to the room and leaned against one of the pillars, resting his head on the stone, "Pardon?"

Draco looked up from the jeans in his hands and said, "I'm trying to figure out why your clothes are so comfortable."

"Ah. It's the whole getting things two sizes too big secret," said Harry.

Draco shook his head, "I have been living in the dark ages. I have never even thought about getting bigger clothes."

"Why not? You can just walk into a store and buy them."

"Potter, I have never bought clothes from a store. It's unseemly. I always get fit and have them made," said Draco.

"You can try them on if you would like to," Harry indicated the jeans. "Although, am I ever going to get my sweat pants back?"

"No," Draco shook his head.

Harry sighed and nodded, "At least you're honest about it."

Draco ignored him in favor of going to the bathroom where he stripped of his pijamas and pulled on Potter's pants. They were simple dark denim and fit low on his hips thanks to Potter's midget size. He took a moment to admire the fit and decided he liked it. He was already wearing one of Harry's soft, cotton t-shirts and it looked surprisingly good. Since he was younger, he had been fitted into fine robes with imported Italian cloth. If his mother could see him now, he thought with a smile, she would give a polite gasp of surprise and ask to excuse herself so that she could regain her composure. His father would just give him a cold glare until he changed. Regardless, it was ridiculously comfortable and no one was going to see him. It was no harm to steal Potter's clothes while in his own rooms. In fact, it only made sense.

He walked out of the room and folded his pijamas and placed them in his wardrobe. He turned around and asked Harry, "What do you think?"

"Wow. You actually look human," Harry said admiring the cut of the jeans on Malfoy. On him they just looked frumpy, too big and too long for his shorter frame. On Draco, though, they highlighted the length of his legs and the cotton t-shirt sat comfortably against his chest. Harry liked it.

"That would be a lot more cutting if your nose wasn't cherry red," Draco smirked.

"I resent that," Harry said.

"That glare would be a lot more threatening if your eyes weren't watery."

Harry went to the couch, grabbed a pillow, and walked back, deliberately throwing it at Draco's face, "You, sir, are fit to wipe a monkey's arse."

"That sniff right then just completely ruined your insult," Draco taunted him.

Harry shook his head, "I just want some hot chocolate?"

"With the little marshmallows?" Draco asked with a grin like the cat who had eaten the canary.

Harry nodded mournfully, "Yes."

Draco sat on his bed pulling on his shoes and contemplated the time, "Well, it's already half past ten. I don't think you're fit to go to class and without anyone there to watch my back, there's no way I'm going. What do you say if we just skip and go get some early lunch?"

"Yes," Harry agreed, "And hot chocolate?"

"Yes, Potter," Draco rolled his eyes.

"And ice cream?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Definitely."

iIiIiI

You guys are amazing. I'm so happy that you are all liking it. PLEASE REVIEW and make me a happy Aly. You are all so amazing. Like it, dislike it? Let me know. By the way, one of you asked if this was already written. It's not, which is why I have to ask your patience in getting these babies out. HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL EVERYTHING AND FOREVER.

Aly