"Whoa," Harry breathed the word out into the night, green eyes enormous as they gazed past the wrought iron fence at Malfoy Manor. "You live here?"

Grinning with pride, Draco nodded and saluted the gates with the password to allow them entrance, tapping his wand to his heart and his head. Assured the signal would prevent the gates ripping them to pieces, he took Harry's hand and pulled him through the metal. The boy went, though the flinch just before they passed through suggested he thought they'd run face first into the unforgiving metal.

Draco led his friend up the long Manor driveway to the house itself, watching with pleasure as he stared about in awe. The peacocks caught Harry's attention and drew out a gasp and he then spent a minute hopping up and down in an effort to glimpse the garden on the other side. In the dark there was nothing to see but dark shadows, but Draco would take Harry there tomorrow when he could appreciate the beauty of his mother's horticulture skills. Malfoy Manor had some of the most beautiful flowers, most of which grew nowhere else as Narcissa had created them herself. He was certain the boy would be enchanted.

At the door, Harry swallowed nervously as the ornate wood swung inwards of its own power and allowed them entrance to the house. There Harry gaped again as the expensive decorations drew his darting eyes from one place to another. The lighting in this room was perfect, of course, giving the impression of secrets waiting just in the shadows. It captivated and frightened, exactly the impression Lucius liked to have on his guests. Harry, however, refused to be afraid and Draco could see only wonder burning in his eyes.

"Where have you BEEN?!"

Draco cringed and Harry nearly jumped out of his skin as Lucius bellowed. Footsteps didn't pound - Lucius would never stomp - but echoed sharply as his father strode down the hallway. White blonde hair billowed behind his father's shoulders, his grey eyes hard and angry, while his hand clutched his cane with white fingers. If Draco hadn't known his father would never, ever hurt him, he would have been terrified. Even still, his hands shook and it took all his will to lift his chin defiantly. He would not be cowed by his own father; he was twenty two, for Merlin's sake.

"I was collecting my birthday present," Draco said and wished his voice hadn't wavered.

Incomprehension drew Lucius up short and he stared hard at his son.

"Your what?"

"My birthday present," Draco repeated. "Tomorrow is my birthday." He reached behind himself, where Harry was now hiding, and drew the boy out into the light. "I want Harry to stay with us for the rest of the summer. It's the perfect gift and you said I could have whatever I wanted."

If Lucius had been confused before, now he was dumbfounded. He stared between Draco and Harry in a manner completely unbefitting of a Malfoy. His jaw even hung open until he realized and closed it with a click of teeth.

"Why didn't you ask if I could come?" Harry whispered urgently in his ear, fear making his green eyes dark and vibrant. Draco spared him only a glance, though he wanted not to look away again. At the moment, his father was more important than Harry. He was fairly certain his spoiled child act would work, but, as he was fond of saying these days, he could be wrong.

"Father," Draco said politely, "this is Harry Potter. Harry, this is my father, Lucius Malfoy. I do not believe you have had a chance to properly be acquainted."

As he had expected, Lucius clung to the lifeline his son had offered. Falling back on courtesy and pureblood custom, he dipped his head in a slight bow.

"The pleasure is mine," he said, but not without shooting Draco a look that said this rebellion would not go unpunished. That was alright, so long as Harry could stay.

Snapping his fingers, Lucius summoned a House Elf and the crack of its appearance made Harry nearly jump out of his skin. Soothingly, Draco touched his arm and smiled at him. This relaxed his friend only a little, but at least now he wouldn't draw his wand. Probably wouldn't draw his wand, anyways.

"Rini, please take Mr. Potter's things to the room across from Draco's," Lucius commanded the elf and she bobbed a curtsy before vanishing with all of Harry's belongings. "It is late, Draco. We will discuss this further tomorrow. For now, good night. You as well, Mr. Potter; Draco will see you to your room."

Draco hid his smile until Lucius disappeared again down the hallway and then couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face. Sure, his father would be angry with him, but he'd given permission for Harry to stay the summer. Whatever punishment probably wouldn't be worse than a stern lecture and restriction from his broom for a week.

"Are you going to be in trouble over me?"

Vaguely Draco waved his hand, dismissing the question as unimportant.

"I wanted you here, now you have permission to stay. My father is much more gentle than you probably think; he loves me."

Glancing at his friend, he paused at the odd expression that looked something like…jealousy. Draco winced. That had been rather careless.

"Come on, let's get you settled in."

Once again Draco took the lead, escorting Harry down the hall lined with pale Malfoy ancestors who peered at the Boy Who Lived with curiosity. They passed doors that opened into a lavish parlor, the drawing room, dining room, and several closed ones that held the kitchen, House Elf quarters, potions lab and library. He didn't linger, knowing there was time for Harry to explore them later, and took him up the ornate, curving staircase at the end of the hall that lead to the wing of the Manor that belonged to him. It wasn't as ostentatious as the rest of the house as Draco had developed a minimalistic taste from his years of solitude. What did decorate the walls was all the more expensive, however, since Lucius and Narcissa would only accept the very best for him. Real gold gilded the portrait frames and the candelabras were of pure platinum, the colors standing out against the rich blue of the walls. The thick carpet here was a pure white, but as thick as the crimson one that covered the stone of the entry hall. Since he wasn't concerned with showing off his parents wealth, the white doors they passed were closed and Harry didn't get a chance to peek in at his personal potions lab, dueling chamber and library.

Stopping between the last two doors in the hall, Draco tapped the one on the left and said, "This is mine." He turned and opened the door on the right. "This is yours."

Letting Harry go first, he stepped in behind the dark-haired boy and grinned as he gasped softly. The spare bedroom was twice the size of the Dursley's parlor and had more than enough room for a large desk, king sized bed, and a small sitting area in front of the windows that overlooked the dark gardens. Here the accents were gold and red, popping brightly against warm browns and soft grays. Harry's belongings had already been delivered and Hedwig's cage stood open and empty, the owl having left for flight before they arrived.

"This is mine?" Harry whispered.

Draco nodded, slipping past his friend, intending to release the gold tie that held the heavy brown curtains away from the windows so they would fall closed. If they were open in the morning the sun would wake Harry far too early. He hesitated at the sill, staring out at the grounds though he couldn't see them in the darkness. If there had been a moon out, maybe, but there wasn't and he was left with black ground stretching towards a forest of black trees. Fog looked to be creeping in from the bordering wood and it would leave dew sparkling magically on all the flowers and plants. Faeries would probably come out, for a little while.

For a moment, the vision of the gardens in the morning floated before his eyes. Then it wavered and erupted in flame. Fire chased the faeries and the peacocks, rushing across the garden from the manor. Draco stumbled away from it into the woods, running as fast as he could to escape the destruction that had taken the lives of his parents. For that moment he could taste the smoke that clogged his lungs and feel the burning heat of the flames lapping at his robes. The roaring of the fire was so, so loud and then replaced by the roar of another, far more dangerous creature.

"Draco!"

Sucking in a breath of fresh air, Draco blinked and found the gardens before him again, cool and black. There was no fire, no werewolf rushing at his flank. The manor was whole, his parents alive, and Harry was shaking him so hard he was in danger of banging his head on the window glass.

"I'm back," he breathed out, stepping away from Harry in case the words didn't register and the shaking continued. At least he tried to pull away, but his friend wasn't having that. Keeping his hands firmly on Draco's shoulder, he moved behind the bed before steering him towards the bed.

"Sit down," Harry commanded and Draco wordlessly obeyed. He knew the look in those green eyes and knew better than to argue. "What happened? Did you have a vision? I thought you didn't get them in the plural sense."

Fuck, Draco thought, mind grasping for a way to explain without lying and catching only air.

"Don't lie to me, Dray," Harry snapped, "What happened?"

Pressing his lips together, Draco shut his eyes instead of meeting Harry's gaze. With how he felt lately, he was likely to give in and tell him the truth.

But why don't you? he asked himself. What's the real difference between what he knows now and that you've come back in time because you botched a spell?

The answer came faster than Draco expected and squeezed his chest with fear.

I don't want him to know who I was. I don't want him to know how old I am. When the wolf is in me, if he hates me- I can't go through that again. Not after knowing his friendship like Weasley and Granger did.

"What could possibly be so terrible you don't want to tell me?"

Harry sounded exasperated and that, instead of the anger he expected, made Draco open his eyes again. There was worry in those green eyes with maybe a little annoyance.

"There's going to be a fire," Draco blurted, just like he'd known he would when he met Harry's gaze. Damn those green eyes. "The aurors said it's a spell gone or a Dark Artifact that exploded, but I know it's not. Someone attacks the manor and the fire takes everything. The manor and the gardens and I...I'm the only one that lives, except..."

"Except what?" Harry prompted as Draco trailed off.

Hunching over, Draco wrapped his arms around his stomach defensively.

"I get attacked by a werewolf. It...bites me."

The enormity of these statements doesn't seem to register because Harry just shrugs.

"So you'll warn your parents, they'll put a stop to the attack, and then you don't have to be attacked by the werewolf."

A strangled sound escaped Draco's throat and Harry finally looks properly alarmed. Perversely, this comforts him enough that he can breathe again.

"I can't...I can't, you don't understand."

"So explain it to me. Why would you not stop the attack? You don't look like you want to be a werewolf."

"It...it's a curse and everyone hates me for it, but...it makes me stronger, Harry. You- I," he took a steadying breath, "WE need it. For the war."

The glare Harry fixed him with could have pierced steel and Draco was much less solid than metal. He flinched, but didn't look away. This was not something he would be talked out of, though he's similarly determined to find a way to spare his parents. It will be difficult, but he has two years to plan.

"I told you, you're not allowed to sacrifice yourself for me."

"There will be plenty of times in the future when I will die if I don't become a werewolf," Draco retorted and watched the words sink home as Harry's shoulders deflate from their defiant stance. "I don't think the werewolf was there on accident that night. I think it was put there to deal with any survivors from the attack so I can't thwart the attack. I'm not...I don't plan to let my parents die, though, and besides it's two years away so we don't need to be arguing about this right now."

"What do we need to argue about, then?" Harry demanded, seeming mollified by Draco's statement that he would prevent his parents death if not the attack on himself afterwards.

Tucking his legs beneath himself, Draco smiled and was able to relax. There would be no questions where he'd have to explain the difference between a flashback and a vision. He doubted that Harry would really see a difference between outright lying and Draco withholding information, but it was easier on him to tell what he could of the truth.

"I need to tell you about your Godfather."

It was past midnight when Draco finished explaining about Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, and their relationship with James Potter. He'd sent a house elf for snacks and was happily chewing on candied pineapple - it was almost as good as chocolate - while Harry brooded over his story. Draco planned to give him another five minutes of silence before he interrupted, but the other boy didn't need that much time.

"So you think I'll be allowed to live with him after we clear his name?"

"Well, I told you about the blood ward which means you need to live, specifically, with your Aunt Petunia to stay safe from Voldemort-

"But I have you which is much better protection."

Draco choked, though he had swallowed the last bite of pineapple before he spoke. Grey eyes wide and alarmed, he stared at Harry who didn't seem to know why he was being looked at in such a manner. He even looked over his shoulder as if the frightening thing was standing behind him.

"Don't you ever say that again," Draco finally managed to spit out, his eyes watering enough he had to wipe the tears away. "Don't you dare rely on me like that. I cannot always be around you, I cannot always predict what's going to happy, and I cannot - I WILL NOT be responsible for you dying."

"Okay, Draco, okay," Harry held up his hands, trying to mollify the irate blonde. "Easy."

There was no way Draco was going to let him get off scott free after a statement like that.

"No. If you had relied on me in the Chamber against the basilisk, would you have survived? I was petrified, Harry. If you had relied on me when facing Voldemort in first year, would you have survived if you waited for me to waltz in and save your sorry ass? NO. You would have died and you will if you think I'll be there to save you every time. If anyone is going to save you, Harry, it'll be you.

"That's why I thought it was best to let the Chamber be opened, so you would grow stronger, braver. That's why I didn't just go get the damned Sorcerer's Stone myself because you needed to defeat him. This, with your Godfather, is not something I will do all by myself. You are going to help me and you are going to be bloody amazing and save the day because that's what you DO, Harry. I am not the hero; you are."

Harry watched him solemnly for a long moment, then said simply, "You're my hero."

"Were you even listening to me?!"

"Yes, I heard you and I promise not to expect you to rescue me from every little thing, but you're still my hero. Today, you saved me from the Dursleys even though it made your father angry, you asked Snape to stop being a git even though he's your mentor or something equally stupid, - don't start - you joined Gryffindor to change your entire future even though I know that scares you half to death, you call Ron and me out when we're being jerks, and you take my life and the future war with the evilest wizard anyone's ever known on your shoulders just because I was nice to you once in a future that's never going to happen. I couldn't do half of that which, to me, says I'm not nearly as much of a hero as you are."

"Don't start with that false modesty, Potter; it doesn't suit you," Draco sneered, his heart beating too fast and his face a brilliant red.

"It suits you less," Harry said, drawing himself regally in a posture that Draco was positive was an imitation of his own.

Breathing hard, the blonde stared at Harry for a long, strained minute before the tension flowed from his shoulders and he sighed deeply. It was fair that he could hardly criticize Harry for the exact same thing he was doing.

"I'm not a hero," Draco said stiffly.

"Then neither am I," Harry replied and the blonde smiled. They could both lie about it then.

"Anyways," Draco returned them to their original topic, "I think he'll fight to make sure you can stay with him. He'll feel like he owes it to your father and he loves you and has missed you. With the Unplottable on his home, it's very likely that you'll be perfectly safe there. We'll consult Dumbledore when the time is right, however, and he'll know what's best. I'm not quite sure that 'best' will be you returning to an abusive home, though."

Harry had turned red and Draco winced.

"They don't abuse me."

"I don't want to have this argument," Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, remembering the last time he had made this mistake.

"They do not abuse me. They're just mean. They didn't want me, they didn't strike me, they-"

"At the least," Draco interrupted loudly, "they were negligent by keeping you in a cupboard when they had a perfectly good room for you. At the least, they were because they let Dudley beat you up. At the least, they were when the let your Aunt's dog chase you up a tree trying to kill you and left you up there until midnight. And Harry," he had to shout the name because his friend was starting to protect again, "neglect IS abuse. I don't really care what you want it to be, that is the law. Guardians are not allowed to neglect their children, no matter how much you want to argue otherwise."

"Now I don't want to argue about this," Harry said, lips white and Draco just nodded. He shouldn't have brought the subject up at all, knowing how the boy felt about his Aunt and Uncle.

"I'm sorry I said anything," Draco said honestly. "So we'll talk to Dumbledore and he'll explain the pros and cons about moving in with your Godfather. I think you'll be much happier with him and he'll be much happier with you and as a free man. That last part will probably be the most important thing. You..." Draco had to scramble to pick up his sentence having been about to say You told me. "Well, you can imagine after being in Azkaban he's not too keep on being cooped up in one place. Without you, he'll have to go into hiding. Be unable to move around."

Harry didn't respond right away, looking towards the windows now covered in thick brown curtains. He was quiet so long that Draco started to think he hated the plan, or suspected he was hiding something, or…he didn't even know what. The boy's mind could work in very strange ways, putting together connections without all the data. When he wasn't swamped with personal feelings, anyways.

"Are you sure he's innocent?" Harry finally asked, not at all anywhere near what Draco had been expecting.

"Completely."

Taking a deep breath, the green eyed boy nodded.

"We fight a lot," he mumbled.

"It bothers you?"

Harry rubbed his fingers down the stitching of the comforter covering his bed.

"I don't fight like this with Ron or Hermione."

Draco's grey eyes blinked slowly as he tried to understand that statement. It was definitely one of the ones someone who was actually thirteen would get.

"It may have escaped your notice," he drawled slowly, "I am not Weasley or Granger."

Snorting, Harry shook his head.

"You're too blonde to be either. I mean, you take my head off, I take your head off, then we just talk like it never happened. It's not…it's not normal."

It was Draco's turn to snort in amusement.

"You and I can never be normal. The only soul who ever survived the Killing Curse and a thirteen year old who can see the future and will eventually be a werewolf. Why would our relationship be any different?"

Harry smiled and his lips returned the expression instinctively.

"Don't worry about us," Draco said. "We'll fight, we'll make up, and we'll always be friends."

"Promise?"

"Always, promise."