Disclaimer: I own nothing. . . well except for my dreams. . . Draacoo. . . *purrs*
Chapter One: In Decent Proposal
"Ah Harry, there is another student in need of a place of residence. One far away his own family. And I fear for your safeties if you two were to remain alone. So, perhaps I could arrange for you two to share, say, an apartment in downtown London."
It was not unusual by now for Harry Potter to have been found in Headmaster Dumbledore's office. It had been a yearly (at least!) visit, however this time was different. For Harry was not as vacant in his earlier years. Typically he was found admiring one wonderous object or another in the headmaster's office. But now, now he merely stared bleakly at an empty space on the wall, just over Dumbledore's shoulder.
Harry murmured "alright" to the proposition. Sorrow filled Dumbledore as he watched one of his favorite pupils deteriorate into an empty helpless shell. Hopefully, living alone with another his own age who had also witnessed the sorrows of war, and was farring much better by them, would help. And hopefully, living away from the battle ground of the school would help Harry move on.
Thinking along these lines, Dumbledore changed his mind, "Then again, a small house in a quiet neighborhood might be preferable."
Harry nodded mutely. His eyes remained unfocused. One of the tragedies of war, Dumbledore mused. Harry was absent, distracted, subservient. Dumbledore doubted anyone would blame Harry considering the horrors Harry had lived through.
"Is it all prepared?"
Dumbledore nodded to the former student in front of him. "Ah yes, of course. And I have arranged for you to share the house with another former student. Just in case anything should happen."
"I did not ask for a companion, Professor Dumbledore," the other snapped, his lack of trust nearly tangible in the air between them, "I asked for protection only."
"And I agree. The reason I situated yourself with another was for protection." The old wizard paused, letting his gaze wander from his hands to the person in front of him, "For both of you."
The second glared at the headmaster before turning and stalking out of the office, then scowled as soft humming emanated from the office as the door shut.
He could not think. He could barely even breathe. And every breath reminded him that so many others no longer had that luxury.
Where had he been when they died? Right there, next to them. He was the Boy-Who-Lived, the one who had defeated Voldemort many a time, and yet he could not even protect those near him.
"Potter." Harry looked at Draco Malfoy when he heard the blonde call his name. It was almost a curse coming out of his housemate's mouth. Harry could not blame him.
It, of course, never registered with Harry as he stared into the sunset, that his housemate for the next year or so was his arch nemesis. Nor did it occur to Harry that he had not seen Draco during the war. No one had.
AN: Yes, yes I know it's short. But if I had had my way, it would have only been the first section (i.e. half a page ^.^;;). More to come. . . I promise!!