Disclaimer:  Sob.  As much as I wished I owned these characters, I don't, sadly.  These characters belong to JK Rowling. 

Notes:  I calculated some things a bit, and there should be about… 19-24 chapters in all – probably less.  One for each day, then some other bits.  Everyone!  Read FAÇADE by MALFOI.  That is like… the best AU fic out there. 

Answers to Questions and Comments:  The dream shall come up shortly, if not, then in this chapter.  Pansy is just plainly jealous because Draco is the big man on campus and is so totally sexy and… er… yeah.  Harry is going to turn into a little Draco in a bit, but er… something will happen! Gasp!

Also:  Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and THANK YOU if you wrote a long one.  I love long reviews.  :: Review Hog ::  Thanks again to everyone who wrote something!

Chapter Six:  Harry Turns Seven

Beeeeeeepppp.

Draco's groan was muffled in his pillow as he heard his early morning wake up call that was ringing right beside his ear.  Sneaking an agitated look to his alarm cloak with his eyes halfway open, he put on a sour face when he realized what time it was.  He could hear the chirping of the birds outside his window and he cursed them internally for waking up so bloody early – and seeming to enjoy being awake.  Draco Malfoy was definitely not a morning person.  He stubbornly closed his eyes again after several minutes of staring groggily at the white Slytherin dungeon ceiling. 

Sub-consciously, he glided his right hand across the cotton sheets to one side of his bed wondering to himself if Harry was sleeping in his bed again today or whether he had to wake up with a seven-year-old boy beside him.  When he only felt the cool bed sheets under his fingertips instead of a small body like he had been expecting, his eyes popped opened widely and he whispered, "Harry?"

It took him several moments to realize what he has just said out loud and he inwardly cringed.  He propped himself up by his elbows slowly on the bed and his gray warm eyes gazed to the brown door that distinguished separation from inside his room to the chilly hallway that led to the Slytherin Common room; making sure the door was securely locked and closed instead of slightly cracked and open.  He blinked several times while trying to wake his mind up before he shifted a bit and his head revolved to look around his room and his eyes steadied in their movement as he saw small green eyes looking back at him.

"You're in your own bed," Draco stated matter-of-factly as he looked at Harry who was propped up by his elbows, mimicking the pale Slytherin's actions.  Draco had to squint a bit while looking in Harry's direction because of the rays of sunshine that sneaked past his bedroom curtains. 

Harry stared blankly at him for a while before he nodded slowly and turned around so that his small feet were dangling from the edge of the bed.  Draco couldn't help but notice that Harry looked remarkably older – no surprise, but still, he looked much older than yesterday.

His boyish figure was still thin framed and his skin was a warm tan color.  His black hair messily overlapped his eyes so that Harry had to actually blow it so he could see.  The only thing that didn't really change was the intensity of those childish eyes – so bright and it reeked innocence. 

They sat there staring at each other for a while before Harry eventually smiled shyly and stood beside his cot.  "Morning Draco – what are we doing today?"  He asked quietly, brushing some stray strands of jet-black hair away from his eyes.

Draco waited cautiously for a moment before realizing that Harry had asked him a question.  Just as quietly, he said, "You are coming with me to Transfiguration today… then I guess I have to give you to Weasley when I go to the Prefects and Headboy/Headgirl meeting tonight."

Harry put on a sour face that he was horribly trying to control, "I have to stay with Weasley?  Why?  Can't I just go with you?"  He gave a small pout, crossing his arms in front of his small chest.  He blew some more stray black hair from his eyes as he gave Draco a look.

Draco merrily raised his eyebrow at this and smirked, "You have to stay with Weasley because I say so.  Besides, he keeps on complaining that he wants to be with you, and frankly, it's much more than what I want to do with you."

Harry gave him an annoyed look and blew some more hair from his green eyes.  Draco was slowly getting annoyed at that particular repeating action but decided to stay quiet. 

The Gryffindor asked quietly, scratching his head as he did so, "Is Granger going to be there?"

Draco shook his head while standing up and looked down at the boy who only reached his chest, "No, the Mudblood is the Headgirl," he tried not to roll his eyes at that and he continued after a pause, "She's going to the meeting too." 

He went to the small shelf that supported Harry's clothes for the remainder of his time with his caretaker and tossed the Gryffindor his attire for the day.  Harry caught it quickly in midair, and Draco couldn't help but smirk at his fast reflexes. 

"Take a shower and hurry, that is, if you want to make it to breakfast on time," Draco pointed to his bathroom door while he went to his own closet, fishing out his clothes for that day.  He heard Harry 'Hmph' loudly before the door shut quietly and seconds later he heard the water falling from the shower nozzle.   

The Slytherin put his clothes for the day on his desk while he got his book bag ready with some new quills and parchments.  He put his heavy transfiguration textbook in his bag seconds later and he abruptly stopped in his movements when he heard something coming from his bathroom. 

Harry was singing – and not quietly too.  His squeaky outdoor voice caused Draco to look towards the bathroom door and stare at it in utter disbelief when Harry hit a high note, causing Draco to wince. 

Draco tried not to wince again when he heard Harry squeal, the cause of that high-pitched voice was probably because of the change in the water temperature, Draco guessed.  Draco continued to listen to the words of the song and presumed that Harry just making up the words as he went along with his melodious beat.  Minutes later, Draco heard the water turn off and he shook his head trying to push away the feeling of a migraine catching on.  

He could see the steam exhaling from his bathroom when Harry opened the door.  Harry had some blue shorts on and his white shirt was on backwards, his wet hair plastered to his face as he grinned to the blonde Slytherin, "Your turn."

Draco smirked, "You were singing in the bathroom.  You do know that your voice was horrible, yes?"

Harry gave him a look, "My voice isn't horrible!" 

The slytherin rolled his eyes and looked down at Harry, "Yes it is.  The worst singing I have ever heard, and that is saying a lot."

"No it isn't!" the squeaky voice replied, the bushy black eyebrows coming together with its growing aggravation. 

Draco just stood there smirking before he said plainly, "Yes it is, and your shirt is on backwards, Potter, fix it."

Harry gave him a confused look before slipping off the shirt and putting it on the right way.  "You called me Potter again…" Harry looked sad for a moment before he started fidgeting with the hem of his white shirt.  Draco watched as the small boy shuffled his feet pathetically before raising his green eyes again to meet the gray eyes of the caretaker. 

Draco raised an eyebrow and got his own clothes from his desk while giving Harry a blank look, "Potter is your name, and its what I've always called you."

Harry pouted for a moment before he quietly replied, "Well, it always sounds like you are mad at me… Can you just call me Harry?  Just Harry?"  Draco noticed that Harry tried to keep the whine out of his voice but the small seven-year-old failed as he looked at the blonde with pleading eyes.

Draco didn't give a reply as he entered the steamed bathroom and cringed his nose in annoyance at the supply of water on the floor. 

[Well, you always called him Potter… Is it so wrong to call him Harry for the remainder of your time with him?] He asked himself silently as he stripped out of his nighttime clothes and turned on the water.  He waited patiently as the full pressure of the shower came on and became warm before he stepped in the shower slowly, exhaling an tired breath when he felt the warm pressure of the water hit the back of his neck reassuringly. 

[I'll just call the idiot Harry.  It doesn't really make a difference – the kid will keep bugging me if I don't…] he sighed quietly as some of the water ran down his face to his chest, past his hips to the floor where it swept down the drain silently. 

When he finished his morning shower, he dried himself slowly while he wondered again why it was so hard for him to say someone's given name.  [I guess its just because I've always called him Potter…] he reflected again as he put on his clothes for the day and glided a pale hand through his wet blonde hair, slicking it back like he always did each morning.

He exited the bathroom a minute later, eyes darting around curiously just in case Harry decided to spring up on him and scare him, but all he saw was the boy hunched over his massive desk and a wet spot on the back of the boy's shirt where the water must have seeped through because Harry didn't dry his hair. 

Draco got quickly annoyed with that big wet spot that was on the back of the boy's shirt, so he went back in the bathroom and got a towel, returning a second later to tower over the Gryffindor.  He saw that Harry was scribbling something but didn't really notice the actual squiggle as he wrapped a towel around the boy's head and started to dry his hair.

He remembered his mother doing this to him years ago, and for some strange reason, he always found it relaxing.  His mother stopped drying his hair when he was thirteen, Lucius having told her that he could do it himself.  But what Lucius didn't know was that between the mother and the son – it was a symbol of affection… something Draco rarely got at home when he returned from his third year.  

Harry quickly turned around in surprise when he felt his hair being dried with the spacious towel and looked over his shoulder at Draco with wide and questioning eyes.  Draco drawled out flatly, "Next time, dry your own hair."

Harry continued to look at him curiously across his shoulder before he nodded evenly and returned to his illustration, hunching over it when Draco tried to take a peek.  Draco rolled his eyes and averted them to something else, giving Harry his respected space to draw whatever the heck he was drawing. 

They continued to do their work in silence before Draco got satisfied with drying the boy's hair and handed Harry a comb that was on his desk, "Comb your hair," then, reluctantly, he added, "Harry."

 The name was unfamiliar to his tongue but it fitted strangely as he reflected on it seconds later.  He looked down at Harry's messy – but dry – hair and smirked.

He didn't see the small smile of the boy as he tossed the wet towel in the laundry basket as he made his way to his door.  He stood beside the doorframe as he watched Harry turn the paper he was doodling on over so that his drawing couldn't be seen by anything as he accompanied Draco out into the corridor. 

And Draco still couldn't believe he had called him Harry.

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Severus Snape's robes fluttered behind him as he strode his way upstairs to the space in front of Dumbledore's office.  He knocked outside of the Headmaster's door impatiently, wanting to get this done with as quickly as possible.  He stared blankly at the door when he heard a firm, "Come in," from the Headmaster. 

The first thing that caught his eye when he entered the Headmaster's stuffy office was Fawkes, who was perched on the headmaster's chair.  Fawkes was eyeing him carefully, those bird-like eyes calculating him as he sat down in the respected chair when Dumbledore gestured to it.

He looked at the headmaster's face and plainly said, "Good morning, Albus." Dumbledore gave him a smile before he conjured up two cups of tea for them and sent one floating in the air to the Potion's Master.  Severus held the tea warmly in his hands as he waited for Dumbledore to continue. 

"Good morning Severus, I trust you had a good sleep last night?"  Snape looked closely at Dumbledore's face that strangely seemed older – but nonetheless wiser.  He frowned absently as he sipped his tea; desperately in the need for something warm to sooth his growing agitation with the Headmaster's cheery mood. 

"It was decent," Severus really wasn't in the mood for talking and wanted to get out of there and in his own classroom so he could prepare the day's lesson, but by the way Dumbledore was going, he knew it wasn't going to happen quickly. 

"Oh?"  Dumbledore said simply and Severus looked closely at the old headmaster again.  Yes, he decided, Dumbledore did seem older – and graver.  His wrinkles were deep and defined, his blue eyes a bit paler than usual as his old and whitish hands moved around his desk in search for a quill and parchment.

Severus simply nodded while sipping his tea slowly, the agitation still there but he didn't show it.  They looked at each other in silence for a minute before Dumbledore spoke up solemnly, "Harry and Mr. Malfoy had a dream."

Severus nodded and said a matter of flatly after he sipped his warm tea again, "They would have had to.  It's part of the potion." 

When Dumbledore didn't say anything and narrowed his eyes a bit at Severus's comment, Severus asked cautiously, "Who else was in the dream?"

He watched as Dumbledore lost the twinkle in his eyes completely and it became a bit sad and pale as he said quietly, "Lily Potter."

Severus's hands unconsciously clenched the cup in his hands as his voice was unsure but steady,  "Lily?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely, his deep blue eyes unwavering as he flicked his wrists gently.  A pale, silver basin about the size of a plate came floating up from behind him and the Potion's Master watched in interest over his steaming cup of tea. 

"This is what they saw," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes flickering up from the mercury substance in the bowl to Severus's sour face.  He pushed the bowl closer to Snape and leaned back in his chair after he had done so.

Severus leaned in and watched the silver liquid slowly, his face concentrating on the sparkles appearing before him.  The silvery substance laid unwavering for a second before it parted from the middle, spreading out and images started to appear.  His face was serious at first, his eyes widening at each approaching second in time until; finally, it was over when the circle in the middle of the image turned silver again, leaving no indication that this bowl and it's substance was somehow magical. 

Dumbledore continued to watch him slowly with his blue eyes, observing him silently.   

None of them said a word for several minutes.  The room was stuffy and the only thing that could be heard was the ruffling of Fawke's feathers.  Finally, Dumbledore said, "Did you see what I saw, Severus?"

"What I saw, Headmaster, was that Malfoy saw himself hurting Mr. Potter.  He, then, killed Lily."  Snape sipped his now-cold tea in his cup, putting it down on the table as he watched Dumbledore's expression.  The wizard's old face nodded.

Dumbledore leaned in slowly, his spectacles almost sliding off his nose as he looked in the silver surface.  "Sibyl told me that they were Scrying the other day," he looked up at Severus, "she informed me that Harry looked in a watery substance opposed to a flat mirror..."

Snape nodded and his eyebrows furrowed as Dumbledore continued, Snape's black eyes shinning in silent curiosity that he often shed for the rest of the public, "Mr. Potter had a vision, Severus."

Severus sneered, "Yes, Albus, that does happen under the influence of the potion."

"And do you know what he saw, Severus?" Dumbledore asked quietly, his blue eyes still not sparkling in any way.  He leaned back and puts his entwined fingers on the desk, looking at Severus almost sternly.

Snape tilted his head at Dumbledore's tone and raised his eyebrow, "Is it important for me to know, Albus?"

Dumbledore nodded slowly then straightened his body in his chair, his elbows on the armrests, as his face remained passive, "Harry reacted almost violently, Severus, according to Sibyl.  He saw Mr. Malfoy abusing him as well as leaving him.  You know as well as I do that the potion is severe in cases like this."

"Do you think we should have told Mr. Malfoy, Albus?"  Snape snapped, brushing a stray strand of black hair impatiently away from his face, his black eyes intent and his ears opened for listening. 

Dumbledore shook his head slowly, his features still flaccid.  "No.  This should all be over soon, Severus.  Just a few more days, then we should have Harry back to normal."

He leaned forward again, his white beard almost coming in contact with the shimmery substance.  Snape watched as Dumbledore slowly smiled, the familiar twinkle that was always imprinted in the headmaster's face came back to full mirth while he spoke, "Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter have just finished lunch.  They should be going to Transfiguration right now I believe." 

His blue eyes twinkled and then he suddenly chuckled, putting an old wrinkled hand over his mouth as he looked up at Severus.  Severus stared at him blankly while Dumbledore spoke, "Mr. Potter almost ran into Mr. Malfoy.  Such a site to seem them together, isn't it Severus?"

Dumbledore looked back into the bowl, smiling joyfully as his eyes twinkled.  Severus took that as a hint that he could leave if he wanted. 

"That really isn't a pensive, is it Albus?" Snape acquired as he stood up and looked at his watch.  He put on a sour face making his facial expression seem rather bitter and pale – much more bitter and pale than it usually was. 

"No, it isn't Severus.  I enchanted it so I can watch Mr. Malfoy's and Mr. Potter's progress."  Dumbledore smiled widely as he continued merrily,   "Please be considerate to the first years, Severus." 

He gave him a jolly smile before he looked down at the pensive again, giving a loud bellyaching laugh seconds later.  He didn't notice as Severus left, as he was completely engrossed as the Harry in the substance made a funny face to the blonde Slytherin.

----------

Draco continued to stare at the seven-year-old child as the black haired boy made faces at passing Hufflepuffs behind their backs.  His lips were threatening to curve upwards in a smirk as he looked at the backs of the unsuspicious Hufflepuffs, but he decided against it as he pulled the reluctant seven-year-old in the Transfiguration classroom by his shirt collar. 

He didn't meet anyone's curious gaze as he sat down in his respected place in front of the room, Harry trailing behind him noisily.  The Gryffindor boy sat beside him seconds after he sat down, scrapping the chair noisily against the floor and earning an annoyed look from the professor.

"What are you waiting for?" Professor McGonagall snapped, clearly irritated as some late students rushed in the door.  "The assignment is on the board, make sure to make me see it before the end of class." 

She turned back to grading papers on her desk; unaware of the smirk Draco gave her.  He faced the board and read through what they were supposed to do today which consisted of a review, transfiguring a piece of wood into a black cat.  The green board showed illustrations of how the cat should look like with notes of wrist movements and pronunciation guides.  Draco sneered at all of them, already knowing how to transfigure a stupid cat. 

He got out his wand, glancing at the corner of his eye at the wide eyes of Harry, and with a simple wrist movement and a muttered word, he slowly started to transfigure the piece of splintered wood from a brown belonging on his desk into paws at first, then the body, then slowly, the head and tail.  He looked around and sneered at one of the Ravenclaws attempts to transfigure their wood, only managing to give it a black deranged paw. 

He could see Harry's eyes looking at what he was doing, his mouth opened widely as he saw the magic unfold before him.  His fingers were on the desk and gripping it tightly, every once in a while brushing back a stray strand of hair from his face, leaving the legendary scar plain to view. 

The Slytherin saw the cat arch and hiss when he tried to give the cat's paws a bit more detail for a better grade and he just muttered the petrification spell in a drawled out voice when the cat was about to swipe it's claws at him.   The cat froze in mid swipe and its eyes darted around in a confused manner.  Draco just sneered.

"Wow…." Harry whispered as he looked from the finished masterpiece to Draco's wand with eyes as wide as saucers.  "What is that, Draco?" he asked quietly, voice above a whisper this time as his eyes trailed up the shiny length of Draco's wand. 

Draco waved the wand in front of Harry's face, still sneering.  "It's a wand, Potter."  He waved it again but he frowned when Harry gave him a pout.

"Are you mad at me again?" he asked quietly, and Draco was aware of a noise behind him symbolize that someone got scratched by their cat/wood.  He glanced at Terry Boot and smirked when he saw a trickle of blood leave the Ravenclaw's hand, falling to his robes.  He returned his gaze to Harry. 

Draco raised a high eyebrow, leaning back in his seat and looking at Harry.  "No…." he trailed off, and Harry replied, "Well.  You called me Potter again.  I like Harry."

Both of Draco's fine groomed eyebrows shot up at that, and he looked at Harry closely.  Both of Harry and him just stared at each other then he repeated himself reluctantly, "It's a wand, Harry."  He tried not to sneer when he said his name out loud.  He glanced in the corner of his eye to the cat who was looking back at him angrily, its eyes intent and staring at him like it was going to kill him at any second.  The tip of its tail twitched. 

Harry smiled finally and looked back to Draco's wand.  "Can I play with it?"  He looked back to Draco's face in expectation.  He was on the edge of his seat and blew another strand of hair out of his eyes. 

Draco shrugged and handed him his wand, after all, what could a seven year old kid do with a wand?  He watched as Harry took it quickly, eyes and hands examining it.  He smirked when Harry waved it around a bit. 

"When do I get my own?" Harry asked, awed that the wand felt so lightweight in his palm, it felt remarkably right.

Draco sneered, "You'll get it when you mature… probably never."  Harry didn't seem to hear him as he waved it around vividly, pointing it to the desk, then the chair, then the frozen cat, then to Professor McGonagall. 

"Wow…" Harry's high voice exhaled as he waved the wand again in his hand.  He pointed to the cat once again and waved the wand, his wrists making a slight cracking sound. 

The next thing that happened was quick and fast and painful, because Harry jumped back and the next thing Draco saw was a big, black, furry thing on his face, and the next thing he felt was a sharp pain on his cheek.  He heard an animal hiss and he yelped before he acted. 

He pushed the angry cat away from him hastily, eyes darting around quickly before he snatched his wand out of Harry's hand and he pointed to the cat that was in mid-arch and hissed out, "Petrificus totalus!"

The cat fell sideways to the floor, its eyes darting around again.  Draco's heart was racing quickly as he sat back down, and he could feel about a dozen pairs of eyes on him.  He gulped once, and then twice, his wand in his hand was in a death grip as he faintly felt a throbbing on his cheek. 

He heard Harry let out a breath beside him as he turned to look at the brunette, the eyes as wide as saucers again.  He could see from the corner of his eye that Professor McGonagall was hurrying to his side. 

"Are you all right, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked promptly then looked down at the black cat on the floor.  She waved her wrist and the cat came floating up beside her before it's frozen form laid lifeless on her student's desk.

He nodded curtly, putting a hand to his cheek before pulling it away, a line of crimson on his fingertips. 

"You should fix that, Mr. Malfoy.  I would almost say you deserve that for letting Mr. Potter of all children play with your wand.  I'm giving you the rest of the class period to heal that, you are excused from class." She still looked slightly alarmed as she motioned to the deep cut on his cheek.  He could really feel the pain now. 

He nodded and cringed at the throbbing pain he felt, and he could feel the blood drip from his cheek to his robe shoulder.  Professor McGonagall gave him a handkerchief from her pocket and looked concerned again as he winced.

"Come on, Potter, let's go." He sighed as he picked up his book bag and slung it over his shoulder, the handkerchief attached on his cheek as he left the room with Harry trailing behind him.  

He was absently aware of people's eyes on him as he walked briskly down the corridor, the throbbing on his cheek hurting immensely. 

"I-I'm sorry!" Harry huffed as he struggled to catch up with the long strides of the Slytherin.  "I-I didn't mean it, please don't get mad at me…" he trailed off and panted, finally reaching Draco's side and started to walk beside him, his face turned upwards to look at Draco.

Draco just rolled his eyes and drawled out, "It was an accident, Potter."

"P-please don't be mad at me," Harry whined as the turned the corner leading to the Slytherin dungeons.  Harry almost tripped on an elevated stone but righted himself instantly and continued to follow the blonde Slytherin. 

Draco sighed again and whispered the password, pressing the soft cloth to his cheek as he winced again.  He didn't answer Harry that time as he hastily made his way to his dorm room where he could examine the scar more closely in the mirror.  Harry's noisy feet trailed behind him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-didn't mean it!" the boy said again more softly, following Draco into his room as he looked for some kind of understanding on Draco's face or some kind of forgiveness.

Draco ignored him again and felt a slight migraine coming on as he entered the bathroom and looked uneasily into the mirror where the cloth was soaked up with blood.  It made him slightly queasy as he took out the handkerchief.  The cut was deep it seemed, and the blood kept on seeping down his pale cheek to his clothes. 

He didn't look at the concerned Harry as he rummaged around the bottom cabinet for a washcloth of some sort to apply to his bleeding face.

"Bloody cat," he murmured to himself as he found a white towel and stood erect, letting it run under the cool water of the faucet.  He looked in the mirror to see Harry a bit pale and looking down at the discarded handkerchief on his counter.  He picked it up and threw it in the garbage can without a second glance at the seven-year-old and clicked off the lights, leaving Harry in the open frame of the bathroom door alone.

He sat on his bed slowly, closing his eyes and trying to remember the painkilling spell that he had learned last year in an extra course he had taken.  He was subconsciously aware of the sound Harry was making as the Gryffindor made his way to stand beside him, hesitance and awkwardness evident, as the Gryffindor didn't make a peep.

"Look," he sighed loudly and opened his eyes, taken aback that Harry was standing right beside him – still looking a bit pale, but concerned, "It was an accident, all right Potter?  It's fine, okay?"

"But…. You are still mad at me," Harry stated, his voice wavering and Draco was afraid for the moment that Harry was going to cry again. 

"No.  I'm not.  Okay?  Let's just… forget it, all right?"  Draco gave an irritated sigh as Harry opened his mouth again.

"But… you are still calling me Potter…" Harry trailed off slowly, averting his eyes to the floor, still thinking he was guilty.  Draco searched his face and sighed, cringing again at the throbbing feeling on his left cheek. 

"Does this basically mean that every time I call you Potter you are going to think I'm bloody mad at you?" he asked bluntly, looking at him.  The green eyes stayed downcast to the floor as the head nodded in affirmation. 

"Fine.  Harry, I'm not mad.  Okay?  Harry, Harry, Harry, I'm not mad.  Okay?"  Draco gave an exaggerated sigh as he looked at the Gryffindor boy.  The boy only nodded, and his eyes met the blonde Slytherin's. 

Before Draco could do anything, Harry stepped closer and put his palm over Draco's cheek, which supported the scar, over the washcloth and pressing it gently.  Draco watched, confused almost, as he dropped his hand on impulse and let Harry hold the wash cloth to his face, the green eyes searching his own.

To Draco's surprise and utter amazement, the first one to drop their gaze was him.  He didn't know why – but he did for some reason, that the only reason he couldn't look Harry directly in the eye as Harry moved closer and pressed the washcloth to his bleeding face – was because Harry's eyes were so innocent.  And they showed that he cared.  And that was hard for him, because, frankly, he had never felt someone care for him like Harry did.  Even if he was his enemy, even if he was only seven years old… even if he was under the potion. 

Draco wondered for a moment as Harry kept the washcloth to his face with his childish palm – if he would ever look into those green eyes the same again when Harry returned to normal.  And he knew, that no, he couldn't. 

----------

As the blonde Slytherin made his way to the Gryffindor common room with Harry trailing behind him passively, he debated whether he really should lend Ron the seven year old.  With hands in his pockets and a clean new shirt, he slowed down just a bit as he heard Harry struggle to keep up with him.

He remembered the healing spell minutes later after Harry had touched his face with his bare hand, and he mended it up quickly.  He thanked Harry, reluctantly.

He stood in front of the fat lady with a smirk, his chin lifted up in a superior manner as she looked down with him in disinterest.  She spoke first, "Can I help you?"

Draco continued to smirk, "Yes, could you perhaps tell Ronald Weasley that one of his superiors is calling him?"

The fat lady looked at him suspiciously before she looked down at Harry.  She gasped, "Harry Potter," her eyes went round, "So its true then…. I must tell Violet!" 

"Get Weasley first, then you can talk to your portrait friend," Draco sneered as she started to get up to talk to Violet.  She gave him a disapproving glance before the picture turned inside out, then a second later the picture converted so that she was on the front.

"He's coming in a moment," she looked at him suddenly with curiosity before she looked at Harry and gave a small smile.  Harry didn't return it.

The blonde boy tapped his foot impatiently as the portrait door swung opened and a red haired boy looked out curiously. 

"Oh.  It's you," and Ron was about to close the door completely, but Draco hastily said, "No, wait Weasley!"

The door didn't shut completely and Draco let out a small sigh of relief.  Hastily, "Look.  You have to take care of Potter tonight."

He could hear Harry let out an over exaggerated 'Hmph' beside him, but he quickly shot Harry a look.  The Gryffindor looked away innocently.

The portrait door opened slowly.  Ron stood there in the portrait frame, eyes narrowed a bit.  "I have to, Malfoy?"

Draco nodded, then slowly smirked, "Because if you don't, then I'm taking off house points.  We don't want Gryffindor to loose the house competition, do we?"

He could see Ron's face slowly redden in agitation.  He had won, simple as that.  He pushed Harry forward gently and sneered almost happily, "Be back later." 

He didn't look back once but he scowled when he turned the corner as he heard Ron mummer, "Ferret boy".

----------

"Mr. Malfoy, you are late," Professor McGonagall announced sternly over her glasses as he pretended to rush in the room.  Eight prefects (one boy and one girl from each house) and Hermione watched as he made his way to the front of the room to sit beside the head girl. 

"Yes Professor, I had to drop Potter off," he tried not to smirk as Hermione gave him a curious glance.  He sat beside her and straightened his tie, smirking around the room.

He got his parchment out (he always got it out so he could look more professional than he actually felt) and he saw from the corner of his eye that Hermione did the same.  Professor McGonagall drawled on.

--Malfoy…-- he looked down on his paper and saw a tidy scrawl written across it. 

--Who the bloody hell is this?-- He wrote back hastily, eyes darting around the room.  He saw Hermione scribble across her parchment beside him and he instantly knew it was her.

--It's Hermione.--  He frowned and was about to reply but he stopped when he realized she was still writing more.  --I found out some things about the potions and its affects.--

He smirked and looked sideways at her, but she was looking straight ahead – pretending to listen to Professor McGonagall and the joys of professional work and how they should uphold Hogwart's maturity.  He rolled his eyes and replied.

--Oh?  Got your nose stuck in the book again, eh?  What did you find out then?  --

--Not funny Malfoy.  Anyway, I found out that Harry will probably take on your habits… I do hope you are treating him well…? -- Draco smirked.

--Of course I am.  Honestly Granger, don't trust me?--

--No, actually, I don't.  Did… you have a dream, by any chance?  With the two of you?--

He looked sideways at her only to be staring at her brown eyes and bushy hair.  McGonagall was oblivious and he returned to the parchment.

--Yes.  The other night.  --

--Mind if… I ask what it is about?-- Draco could see from the corner of his eye that she was biting her bottom lip.  [Probably concerned] Draco thought absently as he dipped his quill in the ink and returned the tip to the parchment.

--I remember being in a room.  It was cold… er… it felt cold, anyway.  I saw this red haired woman there… I think it was his mother.  When I asked him (when we were awake anyway), if he knew her.  He said he had never seen her before in his life…--

He dipped the quill in the ink again then continued.  --I do believe it was his mother though.  --

--Oh… oh gosh.--  Was all that Hermione wrote.  Draco's eyebrows narrowed in wonder as he wrote back, --… And what is that supposed to mean?--

--Nothing… it's just the book is precise.  And… don't try to convince him of other things, you will just confuse him.  And… and take good care of him, don't leave him alone…--

Draco sneered and hastily replied, I don't have to listen to you. 

--Please Malfoy.  You don't know what could happen if you leave him alone – even for a bit… I thought you would bring him here tonight. --

--Yeah.  Right.  And have him cause more destruction than what he has done today?  No thanks.-- 

They both looked up when a sixth year Hufflepuff raised her hand and spoke to Professor McGonagall.  Draco put the parchment under the table just in case the transfiguration teacher decided to look their way.  Hermione did the same. 

When they were sure she wouldn't look their way – the Professor thinking that the two head students knew better, they continued.

--What has he done today?  I heard something happened in Transfiguration class.  Care to share?  --

Draco sneered down at the parchment.  He really didn't want to tell her anything; after all, what happened there was his business.  Not hers.  But he responded anyway.

--I gave Potty my wand.  He waved it stupidly around.  Ended up unpetrifying the bloody cat, which resulted in me getting a deep scratch on the face.  --

He saw from the corner of his eye that Hermione turned to look at him.  He turned his cheek around so she could see the faint trace of a scratch. 

He saw her tidy scribble on the paper.  -- Was it that bad?  You shouldn't have given him your wand, you know.  There is a reason why children with magical powers don't get wands until eleven, Malfoy. –

Draco was about to retort with a comment about how Hermione would know lots about wizards and muggles – being a Mudblood herself but Professor McGonagall called his attention. 

"Mr. Malfoy, how is your face?" she didn't look that much concerned, Draco noticed, but he hastily put the parchment away as he replied in a drawl, "It's fine Professor," he smirked, "Potter helped me heal it."

If she thought that was weird, she didn't show it and dismissed the meeting.  Draco looked at his watch and noticed that time went fast when he was talking to her.  Usually they just sat there ignoring each other and it was usually Hermione who was trying not to glare whenever Draco gave a comment.

He left the room quickly but his steps faltered when Hermione briskly walked beside him. 

"So…" she began to talk but Draco cut her off.

"Look Granger.  Just because we were scribbling love notes," he smirked at her disgusted face, "Doesn't mean we are friends."

"I wasn't about to imply that we were, Malfoy.  I was just going to ask where Harry was, after all, I am concerned about my best friend."

Draco sneered as they both turned the corner, "He's with Weasel."

"Oh, with Ron?  Well, this should be a new experience for him – handling children that is."

Draco noticed that she was still trying to be mildly friendly to him, and he didn't mind that much.  It was a bit weird, but he ignored it. 

"Plan to have children when you get married, Granger?"  He saw Hermione blush from the corner of his eye as they turned another corner and started to make their way up the long stairs to the Gryffindor common room.

"Um… I'm… not sure yet."  Her voice was a bit shy as she put her hands in her pockets.

"Maybe you should marry the Weasel," Draco said, then quietly, smirking, "You would make a good pair."

"O-Oh?" She asked breathlessly as they rounded the corner and started to make their way to the portrait.

He nodded, then sneered, "Yeah.  You could support him with your brains considering that moron cannot get a job to save his life plus the fact that he can stay home and watch your children.  You going to keep the Weasley tradition up and have more children then you both can handle?" 

He turned to look at her angry face.  "That wasn't that nice Malfoy.  Ron is not a moron and you know it.  And I don't even know if I will get with Ron, okay?"

They stopped in front of the sleeping portrait.  The fat lady snorted as she woke up and glared at Draco and Hermione sleepily.  Hermione whispered the password as she held the door open reluctantly to let him in and fetch the child.

"The whole school knows you fancy him, Granger.  Just get with him already and save us all the sappy details." He sneered as he observed the warm Gryffindor common room. 

"Bloody hell, Bumblebore really does favor Gryffindors.  Look, you even have new couches.  This is increasingly unfair and barbaric." He watched as she made her ways to the boy's dormitories, gesturing him to follow her with a look over her shoulder.

"No, it's just that we put a restoring spell on the couches every year.  You should learn how to do that."  She smirked slightly as she knocked on a door.  They both heard mild shuffling and a small laugh before Harry opened the door and his face lit up with a smile.

"Draco!  Granger!" His smile widened as he pulled Draco in by the hand.  Draco scowled as he saw Seamus, Dean, Neville and Ron on two separate beds scowling back at him.

The room was silent as the head boy of their year looked at them disapprovingly.  Draco subconsciously took note at how warm the room looked – much more friendly than last year's dorms with his dorm mates.   Hermione and Harry were the ones to break the silence.

"How are you doing, Harry?"  She asked nicely, brushing some stray strands of hair from Harry's face.  He swatted her hand away quickly, and stood beside Draco. 

He pulled Draco down by his robe and whispered in his ear, "Can we go back, Draco?  I'm… tired… and I want to show you something…"

Draco raised a defined eyebrow curiously.  He smirked, "Oh?  And what is that, Potter?"

He saw Harry cringe a bit and he reluctantly said while rolling his eyes, "What Harry?"

He could feel several surprised eyes widen as he said the Gryffindors name.  Harry just shook his head slowly and reached for his hand, which Draco pulled out of his hold before Harry could touch it.  Harry looked visibly hurt.   

"Fine then.  Let's go."  He turned around quickly after standing there awkward in the middle of the room, his robes fluttering behind him as he made a dramatic exit.

"Wait!" Harry said softly as he turned around and smiled at all of them, then quietly, "Bye Ron!"

And Draco smirked once again as he saw Ron's face shine happily with a smile before Harry closed the door and they made their way to the Slytherin common room.

----------

"Want to hear what we did?"  Harry asked quietly, making two small steps to every one step of the blonde slytherin.

"No, frankly, I don't," he drawled out as they went in the common room, and he instantly shivered and for once was jealous of Gryffindors for their warm common room. 

"Draco! I have been looking all over for you!" He groaned to himself as he saw Pansy's fake smile and bouncy self-stride up to him and give him an exaggerated kiss on the cheek.  He cringed at her perfume. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and asked in the sweetest voice she could possibly muster – which ended up sounding sickening, "Where have you been?  Has Potter been bothering you?"

He pushed her away slowly and tried to give her an apologetic glance, which ended up looking more like a scowl than anything else.  "You know that I was at the Headboy and Headgirl meeting.  Potter wasn't with me, I decided to get him reacquainted with his morons."

Pansy giggled uncontrollably as she slowly loomed in and gave him a long, deep, sickening kiss on his lips.  He held his breath and noticed she put too much lip-gloss on and her perfume was wretched.  She pulled away as he didn't even bother to respond and gave him a slight glare before turning to Harry who was slowly moving back at her frightening figure.

"You are just lucky that Draco is taking care of you.  If it was me, I would probably rip your head off the instant I was announced to be the caretaker."  She sneered down at him and tilted her nose upwards.

Harry didn't say a thing as he made his way behind the blonde slytherin and looked at her with wide – and Draco noticed scared eyes. 

"That's probably the reason that you aren't the caretaker, Parkinson." He sneered as he swept away without another glance behind his back, Harry trailing behind him noisily.  He was aware of Pansy's scowl but he didn't really care.

----------

"You wanted to show me something, Pot – Harry?" he rolled his eyes at the smile Harry gave him. 

"Yeah!  I made a drawing for you this morning when you were drying my hair."  The Gryffindor leaped to his desk as soon as they entered his room, his black hair looking like a mop over his face.

"We're going to get your hair cut.  You look like one of those muggle dogs."  He sneered as he took off his clothes for the night and got ready for bed.

Harry came up beside him slowly and shyly handed him a paper with some small scribbles on it. 

Draco's lips couldn't help but quirk into a small smile as he looked at the artistic ability of the seven year old.  There were two stick figures there, one with a scar and black hair that was the same height as the other thin figure.  The second figure had a scribbled line for a mouth and small eyes, with little sprouts of hair sticking out of his head.  He suspected the black haired figure was Harry; the one with hair sticking out of its head was him.  He smirked. 

"Is this you?  Rather tall, eh?" he went to the desk and sat down in his boxers and a plain white t-shirt, crossing his legs and smirking at the small drawing.  Harry came up beside him and looked at what he was going to do.

The blonde slytherin dipped his quill in his inkbottle and wrote 'Draco' on top of his drawing and 'Potter' on top of Harry's.  Harry asked softly, "What is that?  What does it say?"

"It says Draco on mine, Potter on yours," he smirked and rolled his eyes when Harry gave him a look, "Fine, fine, I'll make it Harry then."  He crossed out 'Potter' and messily put 'Harry'. 

"I want to learn how to write…" Harry said quietly, leaning over the desk and watching Draco's elegant handwriting make its way to another piece of parchment. 

Draco wrote 'Harry' on one side, 'Draco' on the other; he gave Harry the quill and stood up.

"You practice on this then.  I'm going to get ready for bed." He sneered as Harry eagerly made his way to where he was sitting, his feet carrying him to the slightly chilly bathroom where he didn't close the door.  He leaned closer to the mirror and examined his scratch from earlier that day.  

He sighed when he realized that that would probably leave him a scar.  He would have to ask Madam Pomfrey tomorrow to take it away – it would hurt, but his face was important to him.  He patted his stomach before brushing his teeth and returning to his main room, seeing Harry's body bent over in concentration.

He climbed into his bed and didn't even bother to look at the clock t see what time it was, but his eyes were about to clamp shut when he dimmed the lights.  

"Go to bed," he said in a drawled out voice, turning away from the light that was coming from his desk where Harry was working.

"I'm not tired, I'll go to bed later… I want to write my name."  The brunette said as his tongue was stuck out of his mouth as he dipped the quill in the inkbottle.  He blew some hair out of his face again, Draco heard, and continued to write. 

"Fine.  Don't complain when I wake you up tomorrow." He sneered as he closed his eyes, settling into his bed.  Draco fell asleep that night in a peaceful slumber, the remarkable soothing sound of Harry's writing making him fall into a deep sleep and into a world where dreams almost seemed real.

-----TBC-----

Next Chapter:  Harry turns eight!  Harry gets in an accident, is there someone to blame?  And his glasses come up, so be ready for that ::smirk::!  Muggle studies with Hufflepuffies that day. 

Thanks so much for reviewing!  I got all your reviews and read them all – I was so happy *G*.  I really never imagined this story having so many reviews, you all amaze me :D. 

Sorry it took so long to do, but it's a long chapter, so don't hate me for it.  3 everyone who took time to review!

Date completed: October 23, 2002