A/N: The first paragraph was from the other day. The day when Harry wrote the letter. Paragraphs onward are of the next day. Just to avoid confusion.

Arghhhhh… mistakes galore in the last chapter. Guh. Sorry.

"You're causing quite a sensation around here," Pansy commented, dabbing at his cut with a moist tissue.

"Brilliant. My lifelong dream" Draco winced and hissed. "Bloody hell, Pansy!"

"Don't get mad at me, I'm the one who saved you!"

Draco moaned. "Saved by a girl."

Pansy narrowed her eyes. "Don't you dare tell me you're sexist now. I have no objection to hitting someone injured."

"I hope you don't mind if I scream like a girl."

"Another sexist comment?"

"Only if you hit me"

Pansy smiled. She looked at the scar. "It's not too bad. What did you do anyway?"

"Nothing" Draco said.

"Weasley beat you up pretty bad for 'nothing'."

"He thought I cursed Potter," Draco said, his voice a little angry. "Apparently he's been hiding in his room all day"

"Did you?"

"Does it matter?"

Pansy shrugged. "Women's curiosity. You can tell me."

"I didn't. I thought that was why you clobbered Weasel."

"Actually, it was because I thought it would be an improvement to his face. Also the fact he was beating the crap out of you"

"Thank you so very much for that, Parkinson. My masculine ego has just been deflated to the size of an atom."

Pansy kissed the top of Draco's head affectionately. "Anytime, Malfoy"

Draco got up and looked at himself in the mirror. Calmly, he waved his hand in front of his face once, from chin forehead to chin. All scars disappeared.

"Where did you learn that?" Pansy asked, impressed. The blonde suddenly looked very startled.

"I don't know," he said, staring at his repaired image in the mirror. Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Fine then, don't tell me. Males and their stupid pride… can't stand the thought of a woman being better…"

Draco turned to face Pansy, and a shiver rose up her spine at the look of terror in his eyes, even though his face was calm.

"No Pansy… I really don't know…" he said, his voice trembling a little. Pansy smiled uncertainly at him.

"Don't worry about it… it's probably nothing"

Draco said nothing. He looked at himself in the mirror again.

Why can't I remember… he wondered.

When Harry opened his door he was greeted by the sight of his redheaded best friend, arms crossed and leaning against the wall, bruised all over his face.

"About time," he commented sardonically.

Harry ignored that and stared at his face. "What happened?"

Ron scowled. "That bloody bitch of a Slytherin attacked me"

Harry looked blank.  "Who?"

Ron's scowl grew deeper. "Parkinson."

Harry stared. His mouth twitched. Then he burst out into mad peals of laughter.

"It's not funny," Ron said grumpily.

"I'm sorry, I'm s- HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Ron's mouth twitched and he allowed himself a smile. "Alright, maybe it is."

"What were you two fighting about anyway?" Harry asked in between laughs. Ron paused for a while.

"Actually, she only hit me after she found me and Malfoy."

Harry's laughter abruptly stopped and Ron mentally kicked himself. "What were you two doing?" the brunette asked. Ron sighed.

"Fighting."

"Why?" Harry's question sounded more like a demand.

"Because the slimy little ferret insisted he hadn't cursed you." Ron looked stubborn.

"He didn't, Ron."

"I know."

Harry frowned. "So then, why…?"

"I was angry, alright?" Ron snapped, his temper suddenly flaring. "You locked yourself up in your room all day and you didn't come out… what was I supposed to think? And all this happened just after he came back… I wish he had stayed an eight-year-old."

"You beat him up because you were angry?"

Ron stayed moodily silent.

"At me?" Harry added, finishing the sentence. Ron looked away then sighed and faced his friend, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Look, Harry, I'm your friend, alright? When you do things like that… I just get mad."

"Why?" Harry frowned.

"Because… I hate feeling useless. You do so much for everyone, and then you just go and lock yourself up in your room like… like no one cares for you or something, and we try and help but you just ignore us…" Ron looked helpless, as if afraid Harry would lash out at him. Harry thought fleetingly about how funny the situation must look to a bystander; the taller redhead with a hand on the shorter brunette's shoulder in the ultimate bullying pose, and yet who was intimidating who?

To Ron's relief, Harry smiled. "Okay Ron. Point taken. I'm sorry… I guess I just wanted some time alone. I shouldn't have ignored you like that."

Ron's face broke out into a smile. "It's okay. Just glad you're alright now… right?"

"Right," Harry said firmly. The redhead visibly relaxed.

"So… tell me, how did you let a girl beat you up again?" Harry teased. Ron groaned.

"Please Harry, let's not talk about it…" he said as he led his friend to breakfast.

Draco was halted from entering the Great Hall by Dumbledore. "Mr. Malfoy, please come with me," he said. Draco frowned.

"What for?" Pansy asked.

"I just need to ask a few questions Ms. Parkinson… I assure you, it's nothing to worry about," Dumbledore said. The girl looked at Draco, who nodded slightly. Pansy twitched her right eyebrow, her sign for 'tell me about it later' and left. Draco followed Dumbledore, passing the two Gryffindors in the corridor. He glanced at Harry, his eyes moving to the redhead who gave him a nasty glare, and he tossed his head, looking pointedly in the other direction.

"Fag," he heard Ron mutter, but he didn't allow it to get to him. He followed the elderly headmaster to his room, where he stopped just inside and looked around.

Damn it's big, he thought, marveling at the hugeness of the room. He didn't remember having been in there before.

"Mr. Malfoy."

Draco walked to Dumbledore's desk, noticing the fiery bird perched protectively by. He breathed in sharply. A phoenix!

"I can see you like my phoenix, Fawkes," Dumbledore said amusedly. Fawkes preened in response.

"What did you call me here for?" Draco asked, getting straight to the point. Dumbledore paused.

"As you know, you came through this chimney," he gestured to the chimney, "a few days ago. Now, do you remember anything of it?"

Draco frowned and Dumbledore elaborated. "Do you remember why you came through this chimney?"

Draco's frown deepened and he finally looked up and said, "No."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "Do you remember leaving this school, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco's brow creased as he tried his hardest to remember. "No," he finally said. Dumbledore frowned.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked. Dumbledore took his time in replying.

"Which school did you go to after you left Hogwarts?" he asked slowly.

"Durmstrang," Draco said. He looked at the Headmaster. "Didn't my father tell you?"

"Yes he did… except, I've been checking with the Headmaster of Durmstrang-"

"Why?" Draco asked immediately.

"Just that since you've returned to your normal state, I wanted to get you back."

"Why?"

"Don't you want to return?"

Draco blinked. His head suddenly hurt. He wanted to return… didn't he? Why was he getting a bad feeling about it…

"What does it matter to you!" he suddenly spat, then looked horrified. He hadn't meant to say that!

Dumbledore looked somewhat startled.

"I… I'm sorry, I didn't…"

"It matters, because when I contacted the Headmaster of Durmstrang, he insisted that you had never been to his school."

Draco's head snapped up.

"So I contacted Beauxbatons," Dumbledore continued. "And they said that you had never been there, either."

"But…" Draco was confused. "I went to Durmstrang! I know I did!"

Dumbledore calmly walked to the fireplace. "Then talk to him."

Draco walked shakily to the fireplace. A man's head floated there, like a ghost flickering the flames. The man took in a sharp breath.

"Do you recognize him?" Dumbledore asked.

"No," the man replied. "No… not at all."

"Are you sure?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, def… definitely."

"And you, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco stared into the fire at the face. He knew him… he did… who was he… he looked closer and suddenly realized the man was shaking with fear. Fear of who? Of him?

Stupid bastard.

The image of the man, lying dead in a pool of blood suddenly flashed through his mind.

Draco jolted.

"Do you remember him?" Dumbledore asked, his voice gentle. Draco shook his head slightly and stared, desperately searching his mind… who the hell was he?

"N… no," he finally said. The man looked somewhat relieved.

"Sorry to have bothered you," Dumbledore apologized.

"It's alright. Goodbye," the man said quickly, and his face disappeared. Dumbledore sighed and returned to his desk.

"I… I'm sure I went to Durmstrang," Draco said. "Maybe they changed Headmasters?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "He's been Headmaster since Karkaroff left." He suddenly looked very tired, every year of his age shown clearly by the lines in his face.

"Why does it matter?" Draco asked. Dumbledore looked at the blonde, his face deadly serious.

"Surely you realize I am not permitted to keep you here at Hogwarts without consent from your parents, and without proof of attendance from your previous school," he said.

"But…" Draco frowned slightly. "Haven't you owled Lucius? He'll sort everything out…"

Dumbledore took off his glasses. "I thought you knew already," he said in a somewhat sad voice. He let out a breath and walked to the window. Draco bit back his impulse to scream "Well? Tell me!"

"Lucius Malfoy…" Dumbledore said. "Has… disappeared. He's got a price on his head, allegedly for helping Voldemort."

Draco froze. Hadn't Voldemort been killed, right at the beginning of the fifth year?

His frown deepened. His head was starting to hurt again… as if something had been hastily re-wired…

"Rumor has it that he's taken a new host body," Dumbledore said, and this time he looked straight at Draco.

"What was it he wanted?" Pansy asked as soon as she spied the blonde walking into the Great Hall. Draco sat down to breakfast, sitting next to the girl. Most of the Great Hall was empty; only a few of the slower eaters were left behind.

"Nothing," Draco said, reaching for the box of cereal. Truth be told, he was still a little shaken. Lucius missing… Voldemort returning…

"Don't you dare lie to me Draco Malfoy," Pansy said. Draco calmed his thoughts.

Don't think about it.

"Really Pansy, it was nothing… just something about Durmstrang," he said. At least it's not a full lie.

"What about it?" Pansy was all ears.

"Just… confirming something."

"Confirming what?"

Draco stirred his cereal in his milk. "I don't want to talk about it."

Pansy knew not to continue when Draco used that tone of voice. She sighed.

"Potter seemed rather strange this morning," she commented. Draco slowly crunched a small spoonful of cereal then pushed the bowl away, wiping his mouth clean. "Strange how?" he asked.

"Is that all you're going to eat?" Pansy asked disapprovingly, then saw Draco's face and continued airily. "He kept looking this way, that's all. Nosy Gryffindorks… you know the lot, always trying to pry into other people's- Draco, where are you going?"

Draco hesitated. "Somewhere," he said then walked away. Pansy watched him leave then took in a breath, hissing.

"Do you think you could be any more vague…" she muttered.

As he approached the Gryffindor towers he paused, touching the door.

"Password?" the Fat Lady asked, seeing the boy. She stared. "You know, I could swear I remember you from somewhere."

Draco hesitated then inclined his head slightly. "I was here before."

As a werewolf.

The Fat Lady frowned then laughed. "Oh yes, I remember you now!" she narrowed her eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be in Slytherin?"

Draco didn't answer, his eyes traveling up the door. He placed his palm flat on the smooth wood.

"Go on now, you're in the wrong place. Go, before I call someone," the Fat Lady said. Draco ignored her. He closed his eyes. He had heard Neville say it, when he had come in before… what was it?

"Did you hear me?" the Fat Lady was getting annoyed now. "I said l-"

"Wormwood," Draco said, at the same time wondering why on the earth the Gryffindors chose such an absurd password. Slytherin passwords were generally something to do with power.

The Fat Lady looked startled.

"Wh… how did you…" she narrowed her eyes again. "Have you been sneaking around here?"

"I said the password. Open the door," Draco said.

"I don't think I can open it for anyone that's not from Gr-"

"I said the password. You know me; I'm not a troll. Let me in."

"I don't think the fact that you're not a troll counts…"

"So you would let a troll in and not me?"

"Of course not!"

"So then what would count?" he asked irritably, tempted to just blast the stupid woman and her bloody portrait to splinters.

The Fat Lady considered. "I suppose you'd have to be a Gryffindor."

Draco fixed his icy eyes on her. "I only just returned to this school. Technically, I'm not in any house."

"And if you tell any of your Slytherin friends about what goes on in this tower?" the Fat Lady squirmed a little.

"Like what? Is it a whoring center?"

"Of course not!" the Fat Lady looked scandalized at both the question and the casual way Draco said it, as if he said the word ten times a day.

"Then it can't be that bad. Let me in."

"Fine," she said. The door swung open somewhat reluctantly. "But I still don't-"

"I said the password, didn't I?" Draco said, as patiently as possible. "And don't worry, I won't kill anyone." He smirked. "Slytherin's honor."

"Oh that's a relief," he heard the Fat Lady say cynically, and his smirk grew into a half-smile, which abruptly left his face as he reached the room.

Harry's room.

He stood outside the door for a moment, listening. There was hardly a sound; just the scratching of a quill on parchment. He reasoned for a second that neither of Potter's friends could have been in there with him, otherwise they'd all be twittering like idiots, then placed his fingertips lightly on the door and pushed.

The brunette looked up, startled, then his face turned into a snarl. "How did you get in here?" he demanded. Draco shrugged.

"I said the password."

"Who told it to you?"

"I just heard it somewhere," Draco said. "I must applaud you Gryffindors though. 'Wormwood' is definitely not a common password."

Harry's mouth twitched, though the rest of his face didn't change. "Hermione chose it."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "You let that Mudblood choose the password?" he said, knowing well the reaction it would get from Harry.

The Gryffindor's face darkened. "Don't you dare call her that."

Draco appeared nonchalant. "Why not? It's fitting."

Harry glared then turned back to his desk. "Whatever, ferret."

"My, getting all immature now are we?" Draco sniffed.

"Getting all touchy now, are we?" Harry said, mimicking Draco. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"You want me to get 'touchy', Potter? My, I didn't know you Gryffindors had it in you."

Harry looked at him and scowled. "I didn't mean it that way."

"You were thinking it."

"What are you, some bloody mind-reader?"

Draco shrugged. "Maybe."

Harry sighed in exasperation. "Malfoy, just leave, alright?"

"Oh, no farewell punch-up this time? I'm hurt."

"I'm busy."

Draco walked over to the table. Casually, he made his index and middle finger 'walk' to Harry's inkpot… and spilt it all over his work. Harry leapt up.

"Shit!"

"All crap," Draco said, his voice completely factual.

"Fuck you! Do you have any idea how long I spent on that thing?"

"Spent, or wasted?" Draco said, rolling his eyes. "And it was all a bunch of bull. Honestly Scarhead, do you think Snape cares how long you spend on homework if all you write is trash like that?"

"Oh, so now you're the world's leading genius on Potions?" Harry said, glaring daggers at Draco. Draco picked up the now soggy black parchment by a corner and threw it into a corner.

"For one thing, Mandrake hairs don't go yellow when added to dragon spit, they go green. For another, it's impossible to pick Mandrake hairs as they're so small, which brings me to wonder why you decided to waste a quarter of a page writing about it," he said. "And you don't add sliced Flobberworm to anything unless you want nostrils big enough to vacuum up a planet. Bloody hell Potter, don't you learn anything you're taught?"

"I'm not a suck-up like you are," Harry retorted.

"Funny. I would have at least expected Mudblood to have helped you out."

Harry slammed the quill down on the table. "I told you not to call her that!"

"All edgy over your girlfriend now, Scarhead?" Draco said. He smirked as Harry froze. "Pansy was ever so kind as to keep me informed. Nice to know you found a replacement so quickly. And female too. Here I was thinking you were just gay"

"Leave. Now." Harry's hand shook.

"Like I will."

"Dammit Malfoy, what the hell do you want?" Harry shouted. Draco shrugged.

"I just thought you'd want to know where your wand was."

Harry remained silent.

"It's under the bed," Draco said.

"How do you know?" Harry said in an undertone. Draco hesitated.

"I… just know, alright?" he said, not wanting to say what he used it for. There was a silence.

"Fine," Harry said. "Now get out."

"One thing first," Draco said. "Why did you keep looking at the Slytherin table this morning?"

There was another silence. "Who said I was?" said Harry.

"Are you saying you weren't?"

"Of course I wasn't"

"Is that the truth, or what you'd like to believe?" Draco challenged. Harry said nothing.

"Thought so. Fag."

"Look who's calling the kettle black."

"Who said anything about kettles?" Draco said. There was a prolonged silence. Draco, sensing that there was nothing else to say, started to walk to the door. Suddenly he found himself slammed against the wall. He whirled around quickly, just as Harry pressed his lips to the very startled blonde's.

"Is this what you want?" Harry asked, kissing with bone-crushing strength. "Is it?"

Draco reacted with the first thing that came into his mind. He extended his arms to rest on Harry's chest, but the Gryffindor snatched them roughly out of the air, much like he would do to a Snitch.

"Not this time Malfoy," Harry said. He pulled the blonde's hands up, holding them over his shoulders, thereby pulling the Slytherin up to him so their bodies pressed hard against each other, his body touching every bit of Draco's. His mouth left Draco's, planting, kisses down the teen's chin to his neck, where he darted out his tongue and started to lick and nibble down to the blonde's collarbone. Draco protested feebly, turning his head down to block the Gryffindor's mouth.

"I said," Harry let go of Draco's wrists to push him hard against the wall. He pressed his lips forcefully against the blonde's neck, biting into the soft, delicate skin. Draco moaned, swaying his body in ecstasy.

"Not… this… time," Harry's mouth traveled back down the Slytherin's shoulder blade, this time not stopping. His hands moved up to rest on Draco's chest, serving to push the blonde back (although it was unnecessary; Draco was giving little resistance). Harry kissed passionately, licking and nibbling every bit of skin that he could. Draco let out a soft gasp as the moistness of the Gryffindor's mouth left his neck. Harry folded his arms and cocked his head somewhat defiantly.

"Was that what you-"

He didn't get to finish. With lightning quick speed Draco grabbed his dark-haired head and pulled it down to his own, delivering a very surprised Harry a soft, gentle kiss, which he deepened.

"Follow the leader," Draco murmured, feeling the other teen tense up, and Harry closed his eyes as the blonde slowly wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders, pulling the taller teen closer to him. He swayed his hips slowly, like a sort of snake charmer moving to an invisible beat.  He smiled as he felt Harry's strong arms slip and clasp around his hips as he tilted his head, expertly using his tongue to coax the Gryffindor's mouth open. His tongue moved in gingerly, and Harry moaned and pulled the blonde impossibly closer as Draco ran his thumb lightly over Harry's jawbone, so light it tickled the skin. Suddenly Draco retracted his tongue and started making a trail of light kisses and bites down Harry's neck. Harry groaned in agony. The light teasing, yet expert way Draco did it… they might as well have been having sex, because those were the images Draco was conjuring into the Gryffindor's mind.

So it was completely unexpected when Draco moved his hands to Harry's chest and pushed him away as hard as he could. Harry staggered back, eyes wide.

"That what you wanted, Potter?" Draco asked coolly, echoing Harry's words. Harry stared, speechless. Draco smirked and ran his tongue slowly along his bottom lip, wetting it. Harry watched, as if mesmerized.

"Never give them all they want," Draco said. Harry regarded him silently, crossing his arms.

"Oh, don't be mad," Draco said.

"Mad? No. You think I don't learn my lessons?" Harry smirked. "Give you 'all'… gave you everything but, Malfoy."

Draco's eyebrow twitched. "Been practicing, Potter?" he said, his voice icy to hide the emotion bubbling underneath.

"No more than you have," Harry replied, his voice equally as chill. Draco's eyes turned cold.

"Don't you dare accuse me. I'm not a cheat."

"So why did you leave?"

Draco's eyes widened marginally. Damn.

"There was no one else," he said, truthfully.

"Oh? So then why?"

Draco looked away. His head was hurting again. Fuck it. "I don't know."

"Liar," Harry said, his voice deadly calm. Draco whirled around, cold fury blazing in his eyes.

"I said I don't-"

"Don't you dare raise your voice to me!" Harry's emerald orbs burned with fiery rage, opposite to Draco's freezing ice. "Do you know of the hell I went through for you? I did it for you, and then you give me some shitty excuse and leave me?"

"It wasn't an excuse dammit, it was the truth!" Draco's temper was notoriously short. It was all he could do to stop himself from what his mother called 'flinging barbs', which he was particularly talented at.

"Oh really." Harry folded his arms. "What was the 'truth' then?"

"I…" Draco frowned. Fuck, why can't I remember? He wanted to scream in frustration.

"I don't know," he said, looking away, not able to bear the intensity of those burning emeralds.

"Hah," Harry said. "Some 'truth'. You can't even remember it. And here you are, expecting me to believe your crappy lies again, and practically run back into your arms, everything alright again," Harry said scornfully.

"I don't fucking know, alright?" Draco yelled. "I can't remember anything! My mem-"

"I said don't raise your voice to me!"

Harry's fist flew towards Draco's face. Draco's hand flew up like a whip and snatched Harry's wrist out of the air.

"Don't touch me," he hissed. "Don't. Ever. Touch. Me."

He released, pushing the teen with an inhuman strength, sending Harry crashing into a wall.

"How does that feel now, Scarhead?" the blonde sneered. "All I've done is tell you the truth. Hell, I was trying to be nice. And all you do hit me around. Well fuck that, and fuck you. Go back to your Mudblood, since she's such a good screw that she could replace me so quickly. And you accuse me of cheating." Draco spat. "You're the biggest hypocrite I know. You know what- I'm not taking this anymore. Don't ever let me see your face near me again."

With that, he left the room, slamming the door loudly behind him, the sound echoing in the deathly silent room. Harry sat, stunned, on the floor, when a gut-wrenching pain tore up his arm and snapped him back. The pain sent shockwaves traveling down his spine and he moaned in agony. He realized with a start that Draco had thrown him so hard that he had broken his arm, dislocating it at the shoulder. He struggled up, hissing at the pain.

It was only an instant later that he realized.

Draco had been speaking Parseltongue.