Thanks everyone for reviewing.

Uhmmm I just realised that I totally messed up on the first chapter and bits of the text didn't actually show when I posted it. I've changed it now so if you re-read it it might make a bit more sense.

I just want to clear something up.

This is HARRY's house not the Dursley's. I figured he wouldn't want to stay there any longer than necessary and as he is 23 at the time of this he'd probably have his own place anyway.





I sat up half the night.

I would say I spent it working out what I'd done to deserve this horror but it only took me about twenty seconds.

Massacres, assassinations, torture, robbery, embezzlement, mass destruction and murder were just a few of the offences I held to my name.

The rest of the time I stayed up purely due to habit.

Although truthfully I was so tired I couldn't see straight.

But I couldn't get to sleep, something to do with five years of neurotic anxiety and being in the same house as my sworn enemy.

When I eventually managed to force myself to sleep, it was restless and full of sinister dreams.

Like it always had been.

The next morning I appeared in the kitchen, blurry eyed and wondering whether Potter drank coffee.

He was already up, bright and chirpy, cooking up a storm.

I hesitated before walking in the kitchen, wondering if he'd mind if I did then finally deciding I didn't care one way or another.

'Do you want some breakfast?' He asked as I sat down at the kitchen table, pouring myself a cup of coffee.

'Is it poisoned?' I asked, looking at him suspiciously.

'Do you still think I'm trying to kill you?'

'By the looks of it your food might do whether you're meaning it to or not.'

He poked at the scrambled eggs with a large spoon, screwing up his nose as the spoon bounced right back off them.

'How about a muffin then?' he offered brightly.

OK I'd been in the room for less than two minutes and already I wanted to kill him.

'Potter we talked about this being nice to me thing.'

'Yeah and we never actually got anywhere with it.'

'I told you to stop.'

'So you don't want a muffin?'

I looked at him in desperation; he looked back determinedly.

'Fine.' I snapped. 'Just give me a damn muffin and shut the hell up.'

'Ok.' He passed me a blueberry muffin.

I chewed on it in contemplation, relieved that there was silence.

'Could you pass me the orange juice?'

I sighed, apparently he couldn't keep quiet very long.

'Get it yourself.'

'You're not a morning person then?'

'I'm not an anything person Potter. I'm always like this.'

His face fell. 'Damn I was kinda hoping you improved as the day went on.'

'Not likely.' I said with satisfaction, seeing that he seemed fazed for the first time.

He shrugged. 'Well isn't it a good thing that I'm this nice all the time as well.'

'Do you have to be?'

'Sorry?'

'You're driving me mad!' I exclaimed, throwing the muffin down at the table.

He opened his mouth to say something that would probably wind me up further and then stopped at the look I gave him.

Moodily I picked the muffin back up and began picking at it.

'I'm sorry.' He said suddenly.

'What?'

Potter hadn't just *apologised* had he?

'I'm not quite sure how to behave.'

Ok something really weird was going on here. It almost sounded like Potter was nervous about being around me.

'Just - be yourself.' I said, feeling awkward.

Insecurity played on his face and I watched it interestedly.

I loved watching Potter- he was easier to read than a book. You could see every one of his feelings dance in his eyes.

Feelings that I didn't have and that I spent a long time wondering about.

By childhood hadn't been the most.typical in the world.

Love wasn't a word in the Malfoy vocabulary whereas 'Crucio' was.

I'd spent my life trying to make my father proud.

I'd worked harder than anyone else in Slytherin and yet in everything except Potions I was only second best. Always beaten by that Mudblood friend of Potters.

It was something I'd never forget- my father never had.

Time and time again he'd told me that I was useless, a disgrace to the Malfoy name. My inadequacy had been drilled into my head so firmly that I'd believed him.

Everything I did became a personal failure and I hated myself for it.

The only thing that calmed me down was flying.

Soaring through the crisp air had cleared my head, taking away all the criticism in my head.

It had made me feel free- invincible.

But then there was Potter.

Potter who was so graceful and natural that I'd felt like a bumbling fool beside him.

And the flying had begun to lose its fun.

It became just another thing for Potter to beat me at, no longer fun but a ruthless competition.

A competition that I'd never won.

Everytime his hand clasped the Snitch before my own, the pain in my heart hurt far more than father's "admonishments".

Because everytime he won, I lost not only the match but also a tiny part of myself.

And let's face - he won a lot.

So my childhood hadn't been great. A career with Voldemort wasn't much better.

At least at school I'd always had the passion to keep trying, always had my anger to keep me going.

But at Death Eater training (although they didn't call it that) every single emotion was trained (or beaten) out of you.

I always found it a bit stupid, angry people always inflict more pain but I eventually lost the will to wonder why.

Slowly I lost everything that was Draco Malfoy and replaced it with coldness.

Sometimes I felt like I was made out of ice - no not ice- stone.

Ice could melt.

Stone was forever.

'You alright?' He asked seriously, having abandoned the overly nice tone (much to my relief)

'Yeah I'm just thinking.'

I thought he was going to ask what about.

I would have done but I guess curiosity must just be a Slytherin trait because he simply nodded and refilled my cup of coffee.

'Do you have sugar?' He asked politely, a heaped teaspoon poised over my mug.

'Don't you think I'm already sweet enough?' I asked with a smirk.

'You wish.' He grinned.

'Aww Potter I'm hurt.' I adopted a wounded tone.

'No you're not.' Potter's expression was sceptical.

'No- I'm not.' I agreed. 'Go ahead, put it in.'

The sugar fell into my mug.

'So what do you want to do today?' Potter asked.

I took a sip of my coffee. 'Do?' I frowned. 'You want us to do something together?'

Too late I realised how that sounded. 'I mean-'

Could I get out of this one?

I looked at Potter- he hadn't even noticed.

'Well I figured since you're living here we might as well hang out.' He swallowed a mouthful of muffin. 'Unless you're too busy doing your hair.'

I bristled.

Nobody, but nobody, insulted the hair.

'Well maybe you should follow my example,' I looked pointedly at his unruly hair, 'It looks like you seriously need to. Let's face it - dragged through a bush backwards was never in style.'

A grin spread across his face, lighting up all his features. 'Cuz you've obviously dragged so many people through hedges backwards for you to be such an expert on the subject.'

'You honestly do worry me sometimes Potter.'

'Only sometimes?' He made a face, 'I worry myself all the time.'

I laughed slightly.

This whole situation seemed ridiculous.

I was sitting in Harry Potter's kitchen with him, eating homemade muffins and joking about coffee and hair. How much more homely could it get?

What made the situation infinitely weirder was the fact that it didn't feel weird at all.

'Do you want to go watch TV?' He asked suddenly. 'There isn't much else to do around here.'

I looked at him curiously, confused. 'Go watch *what*?'

'TV.' He repeated, looking at me like I was crazy for a few moments before realisation dawned in his eyes. 'Oh you've never watched TV before??'

He grinned at my blank look. 'God no wonder you want to kill muggles. I probably would do if I didn't know about the TV and the wonderful invention the microwave?'

'The micro*what*?'

He paused. 'Never mind.'

This guy really was crazy.

He jumped to his feet energetically. 'Come on.'

'Come on where?' I asked, reluctant to move.

He rolled his eyes and extended his hand.

Before I'd thought it through I'd taken his hand and been yanked to my feet.

'Ow.' I murmured. 'Are you trying to pull my arm off?'

'You deserve it but no. Now come on!'

Obediently I followed him from the kitchen into the living room.

'Now what?' I asked, looking around the room for something that looked like it could keep me occupied.

'Sit down.' He pushed me gently towards the sofa and I flopped on it gratefully.

'Which one's the TV?' I looked at him expectantly.

He pointed towards a black box. 'That one.'

I turned my gaze to it, expecting something to happen.

Nothing happened.

'That's a bit crap.' I told him.

'It's not switched on yet you idiot.'

'How was I supposed to know?' I said sulkily, feeling stupid.

He leaned forward and pressed a button.

Instantly the TV flickered and pictures appeared on it.

'Wow.' I said in awe, leaning forward. 'That is so cool.'

Harry grinned. 'Yeah.'

'What's this do?' I picked up a square object with lots of buttons on it.

Randomly I pressed one and suddenly the people on the TV were replaced with fishes.

'What happened to those people?' I said in alarm. 'How did they turn into fishes?'

Harry's lip twitched.

I looked at him in panic and he burst out laughing.

Three hours later, having watched countless 'programmes' and Harry having explained to me exactly what a TV was I could see why he'd laughed.

Not that I forgave him - I just understood.

The "programme" ended and the "break" came on and so I turned to Harry.

'So what've you been up to since Hogwarts?' I asked, rearranging myself on the sofa. 'Apart from trying to kill me and all.'

He screwed his face up, thinking. 'Uhh that's been about it actually.'

I rolled my eyes. 'Come on Potter- you can't have been doing nothing but that for five years.'

He looked at me helplessly.

I sighed. 'Girlfriend?'

He shook his head.

'Boyfriend?'

There was a pause and then he shook his head again.

'Ghost?'

He glared at me.

I stifled a laugh. 'Ok fine. Have you got a dog?'

Finally- a nod.

'Well where is it then?'

'She's gone to stay with Mione and Ron for a while.' Harry told me. 'I wasn't sure how you'd feel about having a dog around.'

'Why'd you care what I think? It's your house after all.'

He shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. 'Well I figured that it'd be hard enough without winding you up anymore.'

'I wouldn't have minded.' I shifted slightly. 'I always thought you'd have a dog.'

'So there's no point asking you what you've been up to. You've obviously spent your time daydreaming about me and a dog.'

I hit him slightly. 'Shut up!'

'You said it not me.'

'I didn't mean it like that.'

'So how did you mean it?'

'I just meant that you seem like a dog person. You know - loyal, kind- hearted, friendly.stupid.'

His mouth dropped open in offence. 'I am not stupid!'

'If you say so.' I turned my attention back to the TV.

'I'm not!'

'Let's face it Potter - Gryffindors aren't known for their intelligence.'

Wow he was actually getting slightly wound up.

'That's not true! Look at Hermione - she's hardly thick.'

'And don't I know it.' I muttered.

'What was that?' His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

'Nothing.' I chorused.

'I don't believe you.'

'Now Gryffindors *are* supposed to be trusting. But obviously you're not a very good Gryffindor are you?'

'Now that's not quite-'

'Shhh!' I hissed. 'Will and Grace is back on.'

Harry gave up and sat back whilst I happily immersed myself in the programme.

Twenty seconds later though he began talking again.

'Draco?'

'Hmm?' I answered distractedly.

'Why didn't you let Voldemort kill me?'

Feeling vaguely uncomfortable I shrugged.

'I want an answer Malfoy.' His voice was soft but firm.

'You called me Malfoy.' I observed.

'Don't change the subject.'

'I wasn't.' I lied.

'I thought you wanted me dead.'

'I did- I do.' I hastily corrected myself.

'So why am I still alive?'

'I told you- you're an infuriating twat who just won't die.'

'Draco-'

'No.' I didn't want to think about my reasons. 'I don't want to talk about it.'

His jaw tensed. 'Fine.'

He said it in the tone of a sulky child who had been denied a present.

But it wasn't my problem if he wanted to be childish. So I started watching the TV again.

About to laugh at a joke, Potter once again distracted me from the programme.

'Did you ever think about not being a Death Eater?'

'Sometimes.' I answered warily, wondering where he was going with this.

'I always hoped that you wouldn't, you know. I thought that you'd come to your senses and turn your back on your family, refuse to be a Death Eater.'

I shook my head slightly. 'I would never have done that.'

He tilted his head slightly. 'Not even that night.'

Unbidden, memories of soft lips brushing mine sprung to mind.

Memories of strong arms wrapped round me as I lost myself in a kiss that made me forget everything.

He didn't have to say any more, my lips thinned and my eyes narrowed. 'No. Not that night- not ever.'

He nodded slightly, his eyes fixed on the floor.

And in that instant I began to understand Harry Potter.

'It's who I am.' I said quietly, 'it always has been.'

'So if I'd asked you to-' He broke off, a blush staining his features. 'Never mind.'

'Potter,' I shuffled towards him a little bit, 'if you'd ever spoken to me again it might have had a little bit of an effect. But then again it might not have done. It doesn't matter anymore - what's done it done.'

'And you can't undo it.' He looked at me intently, his green eyes shining with something I couldn't identify. 'You can't take it back.'

'Did you want to?' I asked before I could stop myself.

Surprise crossed his features and then reluctance entered his eyes.

'You know what forget I said anything.' I said quickly. 'It was a stupid question.'

~You idiot you idiot you idiot ~ I told myself. ~What did you go and ask that for? ~

Because I wanted to know.

The realisation surprised me.

I wanted to know how he felt about it.

'It wasn't a stu-' He started.

'Yes it was. Pretend I didn't say it.' I was getting increasingly uncomfortable.

'Draco-'

'I'm going to go and have a shower.' I leapt to my feet, not wanting to talk about this anymore. 'I'll see you later.'

And before he could try again to tell me something I didn't want to hear I raced out of the room.





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