The next morning Draco woke up in Harry's bed. "Ngkh, where am I?" he asked.

"You're at the Dursley's," Harry said.

"Why?"

"I dunno, Dumbledore's a maniac. Seriously, what's with your morning amnesia?"

"I think it might have something to do with an accident I had as a child."

"I…see."

Just then Dudley burst into the room, that is to say, squeezed his mammoth form through the narrow entrance. "Mum says you've got to get up!"

"Sod off," said Draco.

Dudley gasped, "I'm telling!"

"I don't bloody care."

"You—you…I'll make you sorry!" Dudley was becoming noticeably flustered.

"I already am sorry. I'm pitifully sorry that I have to spend my entire summer in this shed. Seriously, where did you find all that terrible décor? Wal-Mart? It was all I could do not to pass out when I entered your shack for the first time. And for God's sake, how did you ever get so fat? What do you do, eat five deep-fried hams a day? I don't even know where to begin on that terrible wardrobe. Help me out, Potter, if you could sum up his outfit in one word what would it be?"

Harry said, "State fair."

This made Draco laugh quite a bit, "That's fantastic! State fair! You know, I went to one of those once. Father wanted me to see how stupid, fat muggles spent their time, I suppose it was so I'd hate them even more. That must be where you get all the deep-fried hams, eh Tons of Fun?"

By this time Dudley had turned a remarkable shade of purple and was sputtering incoherently. "You'll pay for this!" he finally managed to choke out. He ran out of the room, leaving Draco and Harry, in bed, laughing insanely.

After a good half an hour of nonstop laughter (well not quite nonstop, sometimes they would sort of stop a little but then start laughing even harder than before), Harry noticed Ron's owl tapping at the window. Laughing all the way, Harry walked to the window, opened it, and took the letter off the owl. He sobered up a bit and began to read aloud:

Dear Harry,

I'm terribly sorry about you having to spend the whole summer with Draco. I suppose it's bad enough with the Dursleys…

Harry's letter reading was interrupted by another fit of laughter.

…but I didn't want to make it an entire loss by not letting you come to the burrow for the last two weeks. I guess we'll just have to deal with Draco, although the thought of him at my house makes me feel rather ill.

Your Friend (Even when Draco's around),

Ron Weasley

"What?!" Draco hissed, "I have to spend two weeks at this—this burrow? I think I'm going to be ill."

"Cheer up," said Harry, "It won't be so bad. You'll see."

So, when summer was almost over, Draco and Harry found themselves at the burrow, with the Weasleys. "Oh God, I'm so bored," Draco said one night at dinner while beating his head against the table mournfully.

Mrs. Weasley, whose patience, by this time, was wearing thin, said, "Well, perhaps we can find some gardening for you to do."

Draco looked at her with an expression of horror and said, "Oh dear God, you've got to be off your gourd. If you think I'm going to do anything try to make this barn look better…I mean, that would be like trying to dry the Pacific Ocean with a wash cloth."

"I'm sorry I brought him," said Harry.

"It's all right, dear," Mrs. Weasley reassured, "You had no choice."

"I'm going to bloody kill Dumbledore when I get back to school," said Ron.

"Not before I get to him," said Draco.

Percy look absolutely scandalized, "Don't talk about Albus Dumbledore that way!"

"If you only knew how creepy and voyeuristic he is…" said Draco, shuddering.

Everyone got somewhat flustered after Draco's comment, except for Harry, who just looked vaguely depressed. "I'm going to bed," said the young man with glasses and a shirt.

"As am I," said the blonde person wearing pants.

Harry and Draco reached the bedroom they were sharing and sat on some rather worn, red chairs.

"So…" said Harry.

Draco just raised an eyebrow. He began to feel very bored, 'Oh man,' he thought, 'I've got to think of something to counteract my boredom.' Just then he had a brilliant idea, "Brilliant!" he exclaimed.

"What?" asked Harry.

Instead of answering, Draco closed the space between them and kissed Harry. When he pulled his head away he caught a glimpse of someone standing outside the window, or rather, floating, since they were upstairs.

Apparently Harry saw as well and said, "Who could that be?"

Draco was about to say that he wasn't sure but then he saw a twinkle come from the eyes of the mysterious voyeur. "Oh sweet bloody Jesus on a cross," he said, "It's Dumbledore."

"Good Lord," said Harry as he walked to the window. Unfortunately, before he could demand an explanation from the headmaster, he flew away, beard streaming in the wind.

"Well," said Draco, "I was thinking we could shag but if that wasn't a turn off, I don't know what is."

"Yeah," said Harry, "Maybe tomorrow."

And, on that note, they went to bed.