A/N Eee! Okay, due to popular demand (hehe, I love saying that) I will now be making the chapters.. longer! Squee! Sorta.

EBC: *pokes Draco* Seee.. dragon eyes likes you! And according to Jill (or Mrs Tom Felton as she may refer to herself as) you're her wee baby! Well...so am I…but...I have to be, don't I? ^^

Draco: I am pretty angelic, aren't I?

Tom Felton: *appears from no-where* Err.. my eyes are blue, and if you'd like to check the rather beautiful poster of me in EBC's room…

Draco: Yeah, we all know your eyes are blue, twinkletoes, but what are mine?

EBC: grey blue ^_^

Seven Years of Bad Luck

Chapter 6: Adjusting

As the two boys entered the Transfiguration classroom and plopped themselves down into two seats near the back, many questioning glares were thrown Draco's way, and he responded to these by staring coolly back without a word. Ron, horrified, turned around to speak to Harry, when Professor McGonagall swept in. She gave Draco not a second glance, and it was obvious to them both that she had already been informed.

Harry sighed as the class settled into the first class of the day, quills scratching across new, smooth, crisp parchment, the scraping of stools on the floor as the occupants shifted around, and the squeaking of the chalk as Proessor McGonagall scrawled notes across the board. He stared into space, head propped on his hand, and he started to imagine how everything was going to change. For the next seven years, everything was going to be different.

-

Everything's going to be different.

Think of the life you had. Gone.

And what is the future going to bring me? I wish for future personified so that I could ask it what the fuck I had to do with any of this. So that I could yell and scream and vent my feelings out onto someone to do with all of this. You may say Draco Malfoy, but haven't I already done that? Yelled and screamed my feelings to him? Even beaten him up? He always looks so scared, so guiltily at me, and there are times when I notice that he doesn't look the same. He looks…sorry. Like when he apologised to me last night. I know this, because I've been watching him. Malfoy confuses me. Yes, most of the time he is an apathetic, arrogant twat with no consideration for others, but then again, maybe once or twice, I've caught him with an expression on his face which says, 'What am I doing?'. Unfortunately, after about two seconds, maybe three if you're lucky enough to catch him in a pensive mood, the smirk returns and life carries on. I would like to blame him, but it seems like it was an accident…I'm still pissed, and I won't forgive him easily, not yet, but I want to prove to myself that I can control my anger. I will channel it towards something else.

Oh God, I wish I could still play Quidditch. Actually, I wish I could do anything on my own again. I want to be able to go somewhere on my own. And what about Ron and Hermione? How am I to go around with them? Would Malfoy come too? No. Bad idea. Very bad idea. I have to go and see Dumbledore and find out what that cure was. I can't stand any more of this. This is...this is injustice! What did I do? Those mirrors are seriously fucked up. No wonder they were made illegal.

Oh crap. I need the toilet!

-

I smothered a laugh and hastily turned it into a cough as I watched Harry's expression. He looked so...dazed. It was as if hell could break loose around him and he wouldn't know any different. Poor pathetic fool. Did I just call him Harry? I meant Harry. Oh shit, twice! Potter! Potter, Potter, Potter! What's wrong with me?

This whole thing is so bizarre. Seven years is a long time. Why was I such a dick? Why the hell was the mirror there anyway? And you know something? This is all my fault. Now I'd like to keep that quiet, but I admit it, at least, to myself. It's important not to let others think of you as weak. You have to be dominant. My father said that if you want to go anywhere in life, take control. I often find myself wondering what my father will do when he finds out what I've done. I mean, Harry Potter of all people! He'd probably…shout at me for a few hours about shaming the family name and then set up a scheme for me to abduct Potter for him...or something..

I have a weak feeling in my stomach now. I have to go and see Dumbledore. Didn't he say something about a cure? I don't care...I'll do anything!

I really think the rest of the school should be notified. Well, I don't really think that. A part of me does. Sadly it's just a tiny part near my left knee. The rest of me would hate for the school to know. Draco Malfoy, bound to Harry Potter! What a lowly punishment, that's what my father would say. I shudder. This has to stop. I can't go on like this. We have to…wash together, sleep together, eat together, learn together, spend every second of our lives for the next seven years together. What sort of torture is that? Even if it wasn't Potter, if it was someone I had no hate to project towards, I would still loathe it. I've always been quite solitary. Like to be the centre of attention, of course, but I like to spend time alone sometimes.

There are some times when I feel depressed, like a stormcloud is hovering over my head, waiting to drench me, and there are times when I feel indignant, but then of course I realise that this is my fault, and other times I feel so angry. So angry I need somewhere for this anger to go but there is no door. I would take it out on Potter, under normal circumstances, but then…

Porfessor McGonagall is looking at me. I'd best pretend I'm paying attention.

-

"Due to an unfortunate, er… accident," Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled merrily, "Mister Potter and Mister Malfoy will now be…how can I put this? Inseparable. This, of course, is the reason why they are both not always in lessons and/or at lunch or dinner. Please do not question these two boys on their circumstances, as this will continue for a very long time." 
Harry's face burned as he felt every head in the Great Hall turn to look at him and Draco. The end of the Gryffindor table had been joined to the end of the Slytherin table, so that both Harry and Draco could sit with their house members without pulling apart. There was a nasty silence in the hall. Hagrid coughed, and Dumbledore quickly sat down, saying, "You may now start your dinner," 
Harry and Draco forgotten for the moment, the school tucked into their food as the tureens in front of them filled with roast beef and potatoes, among other side dishes. Draco was chatting to Blaise Zabini, or, rather, Blaise Zabini was chatting to Draco, who was merely nodding and 'mming' through mouthfuls of potato. Ron leaned forward and muttered, 
"Harry, I need to talk to you. Without him," he jerked a thumb at Draco, "around," Harry frowned.
"Ron, you know that's impossible," he said, toying with his carrots.
"Yeah well.. I thought.. where's your room?"
"Third door to the left of the statue of Harold the Peacemaker on the second floor," Harry answered. "Why?"
"Can I meet you there at about 2.00 am? Tonight? Only…will he be asleep?"
Harry nodded. "I reckon so. Password's 'golden syrup'. Are you going to tell Hermione?"
Ron nodded. "I might need to borrow the Cloak."
Harry chewed his cheek for a moment, then said, "I'll tell Malfoy I need the loo, or something…if you wait outside the boys' toilets after dinner, I can pass it to you there,"
Ron nodded, and put his knife and fork down. "I'd better go. See you."
"See you."