A/N: I saw this story waaaaaaay behind everything in my computer and I realized I'd written it halfway so I decided to continue it. Haha. I'm sorry it took two years. I'm lazy P

Draco stared at the musty classroom, looking at the weird assortments of teacups and crystal balls, smelling the strong perfume in the air.

"Gosh, this place is strange," he whispered to Harry.

"It sure is." Harry grinned.

Harry motioned Draco to sit down beside him, then signaled Ron to sit down on his other side. Ron sighed, and seeing that the only other choice was to sit beside Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil (who were giggling and looking at Draco), sat down resignedly beside Harry.

Professor Trelawney swooped in the classroom in her usual way, and with her back still facing the class as she wrote on the blackboard, she said, "Ah, Mr Malfoy, I see you have come to join us today…" She turned and smiled at Draco. "A new student in our midst. My Inner Eye has predicted you will join us today. Why, you have a dark aura around you."

Harry looked with amusement as Draco's expression changed from confusion to horror.

"Don't worry. She has predicted my death since third year and I haven't died yet. Besides, I sent Hedwig to ask Dumbledore for permission. He must have told her."

"Yes, I can see that you are fearful. And I can also see that if you stay around Harry Potter any longer, you will meet an unhappy end somewhere this year."

This was definitely not the most comforting thing Draco had heard, and it only caused him to shrink behind Harry even more.

Harry saw Ron roll his eyes.

"Professor, this is Draco's first lesson. Could you not give him such heavy information to digest?"

Professor Trelawney looked at Harry. "Why, yes, Harry Potter. Take care of Mr Malfoy. You wouldn't want him dying, would you?" She smiled in a misty sort of way and left.

Harry sighed and shook his head resignedly. Professor Trelawney never gave up.

Draco, however, could not help but be worried. After all, it wasn't everyday when someone predicted your death. Anyway, if someone had predicted his death before, he couldn't remember.

"She's weird, Harry."

Harry looked at Draco with a raised eyebrow. "You're telling me."

Divination got past soon enough, with nothing worth noting happening, except for the fact that Draco seemed to get death omens in his tea leaves at least 6 times. So did Harry, no less than 17 times.

Draco was walking back to the Gryffindor Common Room with Harry and Ron, and finally, after a few minutes of walking in silence, he couldn't stop himself from saying, "She's a fraud!"

Harry stifled a laugh. Ron snorted.

"Malfoy?" Ron turned to Draco.

Draco stared at Ron with eyes that showed obvious fear. "Y-yes?"

"Look, I'm sorry about just now."

Draco smiled nervously and nodded. "Okay."

Draco couldn't really understand why Ron hated him so much. But at least he was being nicer now.

"Here we are," Harry said brightly, and was about to say the password when the Fat Lady said, "Are you sure that Slytherin boy is allowed to go in?"

"Oh! I guess I'd better be going back to my Common Room then…" Draco said. "Er, if I can find my way back, that is."

"I'll come with you," Harry said, smiling. "See you later, Ron."

"Yeah yeah," Ron muttered.

Harry walked off, with Draco still sticking closely to him, occasionally trying to hide himself in Harry's shadow.

They didn't reach the Slytherin Tower. Harry had dragged Draco into an empty classroom and started kissing him then and there because he couldn't hold out much longer.

"Harry…"

"Yes?"

"Wouldn't someone see us?"

"I don't care," Harry said frankly, and kissed Draco again.

"I…"

-Flash!-

Thoughts ran through his mind..

He's coming for Potter. Should he warn him? Should he warn Potter?

His father told him.

He knew that he would be here soon.

He knew. He knew.

-Flash!-

Draco pushed Harry away abruptly.

"He's coming for you, he's coming to… to kill you. He's coming," he said, his eyes wide with shock.

"Who? Who's coming?" Harry was bewildered.

"Voldemort. Voldemort." Draco slumped onto the ground, shaking. "He's coming to kill you, Harry. He's coming."