When Harry walks into the dorm he sees Draco laying down on his back, "What are you doing?"

"Just drawing on the sides of the journal pages. They seemed a little bland."

Harry sits down on his own bed, "What are you drawing?"

"Not much, really. Just some leaves, vines, and swirls. Maybe a flower here and there or some thorns. I can't actually do much, though, since all I have is ink."

Harry nods and he's quiet for a moment, lying down as well before saying anything else, "I didn't see you at dinner."

Draco shrugs, "I wasn't very hungry."

Harry looks over, "Did the conversation with your parents not go well?" Draco shakes his head, his focused expression adding more of a frown, but he doesn't respond beyond that. Harry looks up at the metal cages that hold the green lights, and he continues to watch the lanterns as they quietly creak, slightly swaying from side to side. "We still haven't discussed the simple things you wanted to before, like favorite colors and stuff."

"No. We haven't."

"So," Harry uses the pillows from his bed to hoist himself up. "How about a game of twenty questions?"

Draco gives a questioning look, "Like what, asking each other questions, or is this one of those stupid games where I need to guess what you're thinking?"

"Well, typically, it is played the second way, but I just thought we could get to know each other better. We each have twenty questions. You can start."

Draco continues to draw in the journal, "You're assuming I have questions for you."

"What? Do you not want to play?" Harry asks, just a bit annoyed.

It takes a moment for him to respond, "You said I could go first." He looks at Harry, "Those muggles treated you horribly. Why did you even bother to stay there?"

Harry shrugs, flustered. The truth was he wasn't completely sure why he hadn't run off, even if he had been told countless times that he would die on the streets. "I'm not sure. I guess I just had nowhere to go, and to be honest they made it a habit of making me feel guilty. They were constantly telling me how nice they were to even bother taking me in." Harry stares at the green and silver of his bedding. "For a while I really believed that what they were giving was nice enough and all that I deserved. I only realized how wrong I was when this adopted girl in my class had nice things and was treated just as fairly as her non-adopted brothers." Draco nods, and Harry has to think for a minute before inquiring, "If you don't mind me asking, when did you get it? The aninima."

"The anemia," Draco corrects. His drawing slows as his frown grows sad, "My parents have only known about it for almost a year, but the symptoms have been there for at least half a year longer than that."

Harry nods but sees how hard the topic is for Draco. I shouldn't have asked. Not wanting to push him to elaborate, he comments, "Okay. It's your turn."

Draco slightly smiles, thankful that after the big explanation that Harry had given him that his simple answer was seen fit enough. "Did you ever have any good times, or was it always horrible there?"

"When I would get locked in my cupboard, I would read a lot. It was nice, peaceful almost." He slightly rolls his eyes, "I didn't like the lack of access to the bathroom, but it wasn't as bad of a punishment as they thought it was."

"So, they gave you books then?"

Harry smiles, "Is that your third question?"

"Yes. It is."

Harry shakes his head, "They never gave me books. The first book I got was just a chapter book that came through the mail. Dudley didn't want it, threw it in the trash, but I secretly saved it. Other than that I could check out books from the school library. The Dursleys didn't give me enough time to return a couple on my last day before summer, so I kept them."

Draco nods, "I guess it's your turn."

Harry thinks for a minute, "Two questions. Any spell, real or fake, what would you want to learn, and how would you use it?"

Draco almost answers immediately, his mouth open to speak, but when he looks to see if anyone's listening he finds Crabbe's eyes on them. He pulls the curtain on that side of his four-poster bed shut, before turning back to Harry to whisper, "There's this spell that healers know. It lists the measurements of someone's body, along with their weight and how much muscle and fat they have. I imagine it would be pretty useful for quidditch players. You know, so we could see how much muscle or weight we've either lost or gained."

"Why would that even matter?" Harry questions.

The look on his face was one of absurdity, and Draco looks down for a minute as he criticizes himself for saying the truth rather than something speculatively cool or more expected. A spell to not have to do homework. I bet any other student would have said that. "It's just something good to keep track of. I bet Beaters especially would like to know if they've gained any muscle or weight."

"Okay," Harry says slowly in unsureness. "That was three questions then. Your turn."

A moment passes before Draco asks, "Do you like being Seeker?"

Harry smiles, "I suppose I do, but I just like that I'm useful, you know. I was actually quite amazed I was thought of so highly. It made me feel a bit better about things."

"And if my father had decided to make me Seeker after all, how would that make you feel then?"

Harry's smile fades, "I would be a little sad, but I'd just hope to still be on the team."

"I'm sure you would be." He nods, "Your turn."

"Hmm. Do you have a favorite food?"

Draco's a bit put off by the question, but luckily he does have an answer, "I suppose that would be fried pickles with ranch." He pauses, feeling almost guilty about his eating habits, as his parents haven't figured out how he likes it served. "Without the breading or crumbs."

Harry's eyes enlarge, "Okay. So, this isn't an actual question, but how is that even possible? Wouldn't it just get burnt or something?"

"I don't know," Draco answers. "Our family has a house elf, so it does most of the cooking. And house elves generally know enough spells where I wouldn't be surprised if it had done something during the cooking progress. In any case, by the time I get it the pickles have a similar texture to crisps, and the taste isn't as overwhelming as uncooked ones are."

"Okay. So, this is a question." He pauses for a second to show his disbelief and confusion, "What is a house elf?"

Draco's eyebrows rise, "You don't know what a house elf is?" Harry just shakes his head, a frown apparent as he begins to feel a little stupid. "Alright, well, they look similar to goblins, except their skin a smoother. They tend to work for the wealthiest families or places. In fact, Hogwarts have dozens of house elves in the kitchen basement." He sees Harry's surprise, "It's actually a little more common for wizard schools to have them, just because there are so many students to feed."

It's quiet for a moment, Harry still bewildered that Hogwarts had so many other creatures in the basement he had had no idea about. "Are they sentient?"

Draco laughs, "If you call blindly taking orders sentient, then I suppose they are." He sees Harry about to say something else, "Uh-uh. You've had your fill of questions. It's my turn." He looks at Harry for a moment before speaking, "You said those muggles didn't tell you you're a wizard. How did you find out, and how did you react?"

"Two questions then," Harry smiles. "The Dursleys went really far to make sure I wouldn't come here. I only found out when we were hidden on this island that looked a lot more like a rock, when Hagrid showed up during the storm. I didn't know whether it was a joke or not, but I knew if wizards were real I couldn't possibly be one. It was only when Hagrid started to explain accidental magic that I truly started to believe."

Draco nods, "Hmm. Interesting. So, now, what were you going to ask me?"

Harry shakes his head and slightly laughs, "I've forgotten." It takes him a minute to come up with a new question, "If you couldn't have been in Slytherin, which house would you have liked to be in."

"Not that I could ever not be in Slytherin," he stresses. "But I imagine I would have done quite fine in Ravenclaw if given the chance."

Harry smiles, "I had a feeling it would be that. I don't even know why I bothered to ask."

Draco smirks, "Well, it had to be asked, clearly, or else you wouldn't have." The lantern's creak is heard. "Who is your favorite teacher and class, and who is your least favorite teacher and class?"

"That's four questions."

"Well, answer them."

Harry takes a deep breath, "Well, my favorite teacher is Professor McGonagall, but my favorite class has to be Charms. My least favorite class is Potions, just because of all the homework, and my least favorite teacher has to be a toss between Snape and Quirrell." Draco nods. "How about you?"

"Well, despite the homework Potions is my favorite class and I think Snape may be my favorite teacher. My least favorite teacher and class have to be Madam Sprout and Herbology." He shivers in disgust, "I just hate getting dirty, and she has this whole attitude of 'it doesn't matter whether you like it or not. In the real world you have to do things you don't like' as if my life isn't real and the things I deal with don't matter."

They had both found themselves sitting on the sides of their beds, but at hearing this Harry moves onto Draco's bed, giving a very serious look as he touches his arm, "Your problems matter. Don't let anyone let you think otherwise."

Draco sadly smiles, "Thanks." The light from the lake shifts, as the light shone by the sun had completely gone and now only the vibrant sea life causes the lake to glow. The room had become darker, the lanterns now the main light source, but the lake's color would still be able to be seen through the window. "I guess it's my turn." He folds his hands together, "Have you ever done something you weren't supposed to, something you knew was bad for you?"

"Like steal my cousin's pop stash and drink it all." Harry smiles and shakes his head, "No. No. I can't say I have." and sniggers.

Draco gives a sincere look, "I'm being serious."

Harry lets go of a long breath, "Yes. I've done things. I took Dudley's bike out once while my aunt and uncle had taken him to the movies, didn't wear protection, and never mind that I was never taught how to ride a bike; I fractured my arm." He shakes his head, "Most of the time I'm just not thinking things through well enough, but I have done things. Yes." Draco looks down at the dark green carpet and nods. "Come on. What's this about?"

Draco shakes his head as he's slumped over, his arms crossed as they hang over his knees, "Nothing. I was just making sure I wasn't completely stupid." Harry almost speaks, wanting to tell Draco that he wasn't stupid, but before he can his friend asks, "How many questions do we have left?"

Harry shrugs, "I lost track."

Draco looks at him, "How about one more then, and then we can be done for the night." Harry nods. "What's your favorite color?"

Harry smiles, "Red, I suppose. A dark red, like if it were storming during a late sunset." Draco doesn't respond. "How about you? What's your favorite color?"

"Green."

Harry smiles, "Is that all I'm getting?"

Draco tries to turn to see the lake, but he realizes he can't with the one curtain of his bed having been shut, "I used to think it was like a color of a lake or sea." He looks back at Harry, "But thinking about it, I think the color is much closer to the color of your eyes."

Harry questions, "My eyes?"

Draco shrugs, "Well, yeah. Your eye color is very similar to that of a lake, except where a lake is cold and dark your eyes are brighter and hold a warmth. Sometimes they even shine, as if the sun were really shimmering on a lake."

Harry lets out a short breath, as his mind had grown a little blank from what had been said, "I've heard people compare my eyes to my mother's, but no one has ever described them with such brilliant detail as you have."

Draco huffs a soft laugh, "They must have not been paying attention. It's a hard thing to miss, really." Harry doesn't speak, so he stands to look through his clothes drawer. "It's getting late. We should prepare for bed."

"Yeah. Right." Harry stands up from Draco's bed, walks over to his own dresser, and picks out a pair of pajamas as well.


- Hey everyone. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I know some people were getting a little discouraged about the lack of Harry plot and issues, so I thought doing this would be a great opportunity to get to know both of the characters better while having their friendship become a little more sturdy. There may not be a lot of plot here, but I hope Harry describing some of his experiences with the Dursleys will hold you off a bit until a few chapters from now, where it's Halloween and the plot of the stone continues (as J. did seem to skip from the newspaper and fluffy right to Halloween). Keep in mind that Harry still needs to figure things out, like what REALLY happened on Halloween, so the word "stone" may take just a chapter or two later than that to actually be said. I'm sorry if this seems slow for some of you, but nonetheless I hope you still find it satisfying regardless.