Author's Note: My first attempt at Harry/Draco slash. Obviously the characters are slightly OOC because neither one of them are homosexual in JK Rowling's books. This story was just something I started to type up because I'm in the mood for Harry Potter (What with POA arriving soon) and is merely harmless fun. No offense to anyone is intended.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter One - Midnight Packages

Harry rolled over and opened a bleary eye. According to his alarm clock, he was fifteen minutes away from being seventeen. Groaning softly, he slowly rose from his bed and stumbled over to Hedwig's absent cage. He panicked for a minute, but then remembered Hedwig had flown off to The Burrow a couple of days ago to send Ron a letter from Harry. Harry grinned despite being so tired and laughed silently at the fact that he had disobeyed Uncle Vernon for not keeping 'that ruddy pigeon' in her cage.

"I wonder if Hedwig will come back with some presents," Harry mused thoughtfully.

This was a pretty silly thought - she always did. Harry tiptoed to the window and gazed outside. Dudley snorted loudly from across the hall, and Harry could hear the bed creak from under Dudley's massive bulk as he shifted in his sleep. Harry took delight in informing Dudley at regular intervals that he now had to have special support weights under his bed so it didn't snap in two. Uncle Vernon overheard a few times and bellowed at Harry angrily, charging at him like a crazed rhinoceros. All Harry had to do was innocently start a conversation about the Order being by his side - and Uncle Vernon would stop in his tracks, wipe his brow, and glance nervously at Harry before stomping off, snapping at Dudley for minor things so as to vent his anger. The Order of the Phoenix was a secret society that Professor Dumbledore, Head of Hogwarts, set up. It consisted of the witches and wizards that fought against Lord Voldemort, a powerful and evil wizard that had killed Harry's parents and many before them, striking a fear so deep into the wizarding society that they dare not speak his name. Especially not now, after he had risen again and Harry had learnt that either him or Voldemort must die - it was in a prophecy.

It took Harry several minutes to realise he was no longer at his window and that he was sitting on his bed, his trunk pulled out from under the floorboards and his photograph album in his lap. Turning to a random page, Harry felt a stab in his heart. Sirius beamed up at him as he struggled with an object out of the photo. It became obvious that the object was in fact Kreacher, the house elf for Twelve Grimmauld Place, where Sirius resides and where the Order would hold meetings. Harry felt another painful stab as he realised that Sirius didn't live there anymore - he didn't live at all. Harry knew it was selfish, but he really wanted Sirius back. He needed him. Harry turned to another page and saw a picture of his two best friends - Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. They had stood by him through everything and he was grateful to have two amazing friends. Harry swallowed and fought back a tear.

A sharp tap at the window interrupted Harry's gloomy thoughts, forcing him to put on a bright face as he welcomed Hedwig back. Errol and Pig also swooped in, owls belonging to the Weasleys, as did a fluffy barn owl from Hogwarts, the wizarding school that Harry was in. Harry dealt with the barn owl, taking off two letters from its leg before the owl hooted indignantly and set off again. He set aside the letters as he rescued Errol from his heavy burden, and also took off the packages from Pig and Hedwig before all three owls hopped over to Hedwig's cage and nibbled on owl treats. Feeling slightly more excited now he had presents, Harry glanced at the clock. Half past twelve. He was used to missing the exact moment he turned a year older - birthdays used to be of no importance to him. After all, he had been neglected by the Dursley's for eleven years straight - only slightly mistreated now he was a wizard, something they feared. But after he had been to Hogwarts for a few years, he had started to appreciate the day that came around every year. His special day. The presents usually consisted of nifty gadgets from Ron and Hermione, home baking from Hagrid that Harry never touched, and other presents from different people that still left Harry feeling elated and happy.

Harry decided to savour the moment for a minute and turned to his two letters. Opening the first one stamped with the Hogwarts crest, he realised it was a standard letter sent out to everyone that stated what they had to get for the new school year. Tossing it aside, he grabbed the second one. It was stamped with another crest along with Hogwarts, a crest that Harry had seen before. It was from the Ministry of Magic, and he had seen the crest many times last term. Harry shuddered to think about it. But what was in this letter? Was he in trouble again? He opened it warily, handling it like it was The Monster book of monsters, a book that would most likely snap your fingers off if you weren't careful. Harry sighed with relief as he realised he wasn't in trouble - these were his OWLs (Ordinary Wizarding Levels) results. Then he panicked again. He hadn't done so well in Potions or Divination - this was bad if he wanted to be an Auror, a student hoping to do so had to have grade E's in all subjects, E being 'Exceeds Expectations', and a minimum of five NEWTs. Harry presumed you had to pass five OWLs with decent results in order to take five NEWTs. He glanced at his results and his heart skipped a beat. He had an 'Outstanding' in Defence Against the Dark Arts, an 'Exceeds Expectations' in Charms, Astronomy, Transfiguration and History of Magic, and an 'Acceptable' in Potions. Divination was an exception - he hated the subject. He glared at the 'Poor' grade and tried to vanish it away with his eyes. Harry sighed and grabbed the nearest present, ready to divulge in the pleasure of getting presents - just before a dirty black raven swooped into the room and dropped another letter into his lap. One look at how he was addressed ('Scarhead Potter'), he realised this letter could only be from one person.

Draco Malfoy.