hmmmhmmm~ I know you thought I was dead, but I'm not... yet. :D ((My writing stlye may have changed again. Sorry. It always does)) oh, and this chapter is a little shorter.

CHAPTER 3-

*****

A jet of purple light flashed and hit the monster, which left no traces of it, except for a bit of charred floor. Someone else was hiding amongst the mess, watching.

Obviously, it would be risky to look for who had destroyed the monster, so Malfoy half-pulled Harry to his feet with one hand again, and flipped the cap off the container of floo powder with the other.

In too much of a rush to bother, he shook an entire cloud of floo powder into the fireplace, and leaving the container behind, dragged Harry into the fireplace with him. using both hands to hold Harry's body against his, he said 'Privet Drive No. 4' as clearly as he could, trying hard not to choke on the soot.

The pair landed on the Dursley's floor with a soft thump after an extremely uncomfortable journey. Malfoy paused to make sure the Dursley's were still in their beds, then turned Harry over to check on him. He was still unconscious, so Malfoy tried to carry him up to his bedroom, stopping every once in a while to listen out for the Dursleys, and to take short rests. Harry wasn't exactly heavy after all, but this was working against gravity.

When Malfoy finally reached the bedroom with Harry, he was too tired even to lift him onto his own bed, so he just gently dropped him onto the matress and untied him. Both their clothes were still damp. Malfoy sat at the edge of the bed breathing heavily, and watching the sleeping Harry out of the corner of his eye.

//He's going to catch a cold...// Malfoy poked Harry in the side. "Wake up." He hissed. It was a pity he couldn't use magic, or he would have used 'enervate' to get him conscious. He grabbed Harry by the shoulder and started shaking him.

Malfoy shook Harry a little to violently, because the other boy actually woke up, and feeling both drowsy and angry, actually grabbed his wand and was about to curse Malfoy. The wand was of course wrenched from his grasp, and a dry set of pyjamas was dumped over his head. "Change, or you'll get sick" Malfoy told him. He started to pull his damp shirt over his head, and Malfoy politely turned to face the nicely white-washed walls.

*****

The next morning, when Malfoy woke up, the couldn't believe if what he did the night before was real, or just a dream. He squinted at the bright sunlight coming through the window and wondered if Ron's and Hermione's lives were like this all the time. Was this what being Harry's friend meant? Following him or letting him follow you around, then following him or letting him follow you into trouble, and either letting him get you out of it, or get him out of it.

As Harry stirred next to him, he remembered that people did crazy things out of love. Or maybe it was just his morals. Actually, his father would have been proud of him if he hadn't returned to look for Harry, but Malfoy was one confused boy now. He hated his Death-eater father, who would want nothing more but for his son to follow in his footsteps, and had yet to discover how he himself was going to turn out as a person. He supposed he would eventually drop the nasty-boy spoilt-child image, but where would he go after that?

"You're weird Malfoy." Harry said, noticing the blonde staring out of the wondow.

"Draco."

"Oh, we're on first-name terms now, are we?"

"Suit yourself, Potter."

"Anyway, I just want to thank you for getting me back here," Harry stretched lazily and yawned, "assuming it was you, and however you did it."

Harry suddenly happened to notice he was in his pyjamas. Blushing slightly, he inquired, "How did I get into these?" indicating a sleeve. "I hope it wasn't you." He added. Malfoy's pale face was obviously showing a faint blush too, not something common at all.

"I didn't, of course. I woke you last night and you changed into them yourself. Don't you remember?"

Harry shook his head, still looking slightly suspicious. "We'll leave it then." he said, and walked to his cupboard to look for clothes. Aunt Petunia's high screech of a voice would be calling him down any second soon. As he unbuttoned his pyjama shirt, he glanced up, and his eyes narrowed. "Turn around, Malfoy."

*****

Later in the afternoon, Harry was cleaning the Uncle Vernon's car. He had been given so many specific instructions, that Harry wondered why Uncle Vernon never cleaned his car himself. Malfoy was sitting on the garden bench, wathing as usual. Dudley was out with his best friend Piers on his parents' private yacht.

"I wish you wouldn't watch me like that," Harry complained. "First of all, it makes me feel uncomfortable, and second, you're not doing anything."

Malfoy grinned. "Are you jealous, or just bored?"

Harry frowed. "Bored, I suppose. I'm used to working like this."

"Well, we could talk, I suppose. Your uncle probably wouldn't want me to help, and After all, I've never cleaned a muggle transport device before."

Harry stared at Malfoy. He was really weird. For four whole years, Malfoy never had a nice thing to say (or do) everytime they met. And suddenly, he turned up a few days ago, acting like a normal human being. The thought of someone drinking polyjuice potion, and acting under Voldemort immediatly sprang to his mind. However, he just replied, "Talk away."

Malfoy's grin faded. He had nothing to talk about.

*****

Due to certain reasons. we shall have to postpone any slash. This chapter was extrmely pointless. :( Next chapter, there is going to be voices in the head. yes. voices. Sorr for using this chapter just to get back the hang of ficwriting.