OK, I'M ALMOST DONE WITH THIS ONE SO IF YOU NEED TO WAIT MORE THAN THREE DAYS FOR A CHAPTER, IT'S BECAUSE I'M CONFUSED OR HAVE A LOT TO DO.

Reviews are appreciated anyway, 'coz my posting time is very much due to how quickly my wonderbetas (Raithen (my dearest friend ever) and creativeangel) finish their work. I probably should give them more to do, shouldn't I? grins

Love ya.

CHAPTER 4 – Breakfast's Gone & An Unexpected Visit

"Still can't believe this," Draco said, as he surveyed the cupboard with dull interest. "I've heard of many odd muggle habits, but living in a cupboard beats most. We don't even have cupboards at the Manor, that I know of."

"Most muggles would consider it weird too, Malfoy. Believe me." The blonde shrugged at this, pulled the string to put the light out and closed the door.

"Well, should I feel comforted that I've been dumped with a family even worse than most muggles? They haven't been around the house much, either."

"They probably want nothing to do with my schoolmates – considering they tell everyone I'm going to a school for hopelessly criminal boys," Harry snorted. "Which is kind of close to their opinion of Hogwarts."

"Boy!" The roar came from the living room, making the two boys jump a few feet into the air. "Haven't I told you not to mention that name in my house?!" Uncle Vernon's eyes were tiny slits in the reddened face that looked out of the largest room in the house. Draco, supremely annoyed at having been caught by surprise like that, put all his hereditary arrogance into a stare that he shot at the man. Vernon backed a few steps, baffled at such insubordination, and searched for words. Draco, who had already decided that he would not let such a muggle determine his comings and goings, let the stare remain and spoke coldly.

"I believe you have more important matters to occupy yourself with than what names we speak or do not speak, Mr. Dursley, am I not correct? I am, after all, a Malfoy – I ought to be able to take care of anything." Uncle Vernon grew a darker shade of red, although the last sentence made him look slightly confused. But, to Harry's great relief and amazement, he didn't reply but simply growled at them and returned to the living room with heavy, thunderous steps.

"Come, Harry." Draco didn't wait for the boy to follow but simply started for Harry's bedroom. The black-haired made no complaints and followed in silence. Until they had closed the door of his room, when his blazing green eyes turned to his classmate.

"Why? Is your pride important enough to make him fume like that? He'll pester us as much as he possibly can, now."

"But, Harry..." Draco threw himself onto the bed with a bored look. "You don't see the point. When it comes to breaking school rules I almost admire your touch and taste for life, but this..." He rose and looked intently into Harry's hard emerald eyes. "When it comes to your 'relatives'," he sneered, "you're simply a spineless coward."

"Am not," Harry cried.

"Are too," Draco sighed and shrugged. "You don't stand up for who you are because they've been able to hurt you before. Do you consider them your family?"

"They're not!" The boy's eyes held a pain that reminded Draco of his own. Not that he ever really loved his parents, but they were after all his family. "I don't even understand how they can be my aunt and uncle," he whined.

"That's because, in a way, they're not." He smiled at the boy's stupefied look. What am I doing? he thought to himself. Giving family advice to Saint Potter like a sodding shrink... he sneered on the inside, but kept his face under control. But he's not what they make him, he thought sadly, this is worse than the dorky Gryffindor hanging out with Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers. Here, he is no-one, and I know he could be more. I never could help myself from pushing promising people in the right direction. Then his thoughts took a new turn. But what's right when Lucius is not around to tell me what I'm supposed to do with them? He shrugged, mentally. Let's just see what happens.

"Draco?" Harry looked mystified. Draco realised that he'd been sitting silent while thinking and shivered. He wasn't allowed to loose himself like that.

"Mh, 'scuse me," he muttered. "What did I say?"

"You were just explaining why the Dursley's aren't my family?"

"Oh. Yes. Well, one of the few fluffily emotional things my mother ever passed on was Veela-knowledge," Draco said it as if Veelas were something every other person met on a daily basis, Harry realised. "Where she concluded that 'your family' not only means those blood-related to you, but in an older definition of the word were the people you cared about – and who cared about you in return. Thus, in a way, the Dursleys are not your family. You get my point, Potter?" The boy nodded, looking only a little bewildered. That was after all more than Draco had expected. "Good. Now, I'm going to sleep. We'll see about your spinelessness in the morning." He turned and began to change into his pyjamas, listening to the light thuds of Potter feet as they exited the room. For a short moment, as Harry was furthest away in the staircase before turning back and silently entering his cupboard, Draco felt the pain stir in the back of his head. And somehow... also loneliness.

"Potter, it's absurd," Draco actually raised his voice. "You could buy a bed with your parents' money. I could with mine, had I been interested in getting you new furniture."

"C'mon, the cupboard isn't all that bad – you're just being you usual bitc--" Harry took a deep breath and jumped to the next word, "you usual self, Draco." His words made Draco frown angrily.

"I will not have anyone I'm around sleeping in a cupboard! Not you either," he added glumly, as he saw the smirk on Harry's face. "You find a way, or I'll have us sleeping back-to-back," Draco threatened. This, however, did not dim Harry's grin, but only made a raised eyebrow accentuate the sarcasm that shot from his eyes.

"You'd crack if you had to, Draco."

"I wouldn't, I'd only be ready to throttle you in your sleep," the boy replied casually.

"That'd be breaking the truce, you know." The deeply sea green eyes glittered with withheld laughter as the silver grey ones met them.

"It would be, that's for sure. But what's a little hexing compared to living with you," Malfoy returned, now obviously suppressing a smile. "And besides, you haven't even read the treaty yet." This made Harry relax as he settled on his bed, watching Draco's slender figure standing by the window.

"Well then, care to show me?" he asked. Draco shrugged and hesitated for a moment, but then he sighed, nodding.

"Why not? It's just fair." At this, green eyes widened in abashment.

"Malfoy, what's up with you? A month ago if I heard you would do something 'fair' to me, I'd run and hide. But now... you just walk around being nice and everything."

"Dunno," Draco said quietly. "It's been coming on since Lucius died, I suppose." He glared at Harry with an arrogant expression on his face. "Don't you dare think I chose this," he hissed. Raven hair fell into a face that seemed to have frozen in confusion, becoming so used to it since Draco Malfoy had come whirling into his life like a cyclone on a sunny day.

"Why would I?" he whispered. The question apparently took the blonde by surprise as he spun around to face the window quickly, but not quick enough. Harry's jaw dropped. Was Draco just blushing? Better not bring up that subject; he'd kick me purple if I ever questioned his unflappability, truce or no truce.

By the window, Draco stared at his own reflection in panicking amazement. Merlin, what's happening to me? What's this feeling? Did Harry's eyes really shine in the sun? Realizing that the last thought was not exactly what he ought to have been thinking he shrugged. And why doesn't he make fun of me? That way it would be easier. He sighed, tried to pull himself together and turned around to face the silent questions of the green eyes. The scene his eyes fixed on was burned into his mind.

Harry had lain down on the bed, sprawled with one of his legs still hanging down the side, looking bony in the spacious greyish-blue pants. His right hand lay casually on his chest and his too big, green shirt had slid up to show a few inches of bare skin, the other hand resting under his head, tangled in unruly dark curls, as the penetrating eyes stared up at the ceiling. Draco felt the now-familiar stab of pain in his chest. This was one of the reasons he couldn't stand Potter sleeping in the cupboard, although he'd never tell the young Gryffindor that. The pain had gotten seriously worse since they came to Surrey and now even having Harry out of his sight made Draco's head pound and his knees buckle. But never before had he felt it while he was only a few metres away and had the boy right in front of his eyes. He used every trace of the pride, arrogance and will to survive his father had given him, but couldn't help but fall to his knees. I will not faint... not faint... he repeated to himself, as he heard two hard thuds and felt arms around him.

"Draco? You ok?" he heard that voice he knew so well ask him. The pain went away, but he still felt weak.

"Of course I am, you sodding furball," he mumbled back. "I'm just doing this because it's fun." The sarcasm. The warmth... body heat radiating from the other boy like were he a star in its prime. He winced. No-no-no, what's this going on?! He pushed the warmth away and ignored the loneliness and pain that enveloped him and got to his feet, looking up. In front of him sat Harry, his arms crossed over his knees where he kneeled and a distracted confusion shining out through his dimmed emerald eyes. A confusion Draco was sure must shine through his own shield of arrogance and pride. He forced his voice to become cold and uninterested.

"Should we check the treaty or would you rather sit around the rest of the day, Potter?" Confused green eyes followed Draco's willowy figure gathering the papers from his trunk and settling on the bed. Suppressing a sigh Harry Potter rose and settled by his old arch-nemesis on the bed as they begun rummaging through the few pages of the contract.

"This I don't understand," Harry pointed at a paragraph. "What does 'with malicious intent' mean, really?"

"Never seen a contract before, Harry?" Draco asked, stunned. These were all formalities, nothing new to him, but obviously Harry Potter had a lot of trouble understanding the basics of magically binding contracts.

"Not one like this, this looks like someone copied a few pages of a muggle law-script. Now, please...?" At this, Draco nodded.

"It's magical, so if you mean to harm the other part – me – with whatever you say or do that fits the description... and you see here," he pointed at another column, filled to the rim with compact writing, "that's almost anything. Sev's good at this, like I told you before. Anyway, if you mean harm with it..."

"How do you define harm, Draco?" Harry shot in, making the blonde frown. Either the lion was not listening, or he was more ignorant than Draco had thought.

"Harm is any kind – physical, mental, emotional... anything. But as I said, if you mean harm with any of this, you're hexed. But you can do it 'til you die if you only have good intentions. Makes it possible to joke around, but impossible to joke around in a nasty way."

"Heavens," Harry groaned, "this is impossible! No lying, no threatening, I get that, no name-calling, no pranks, no... oh, God." Harry leaned his head in his hands. Draco smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

"You'll be fine – you've done great so far, you'll just have to continue liking me," he grinned. This made Harry growl. Soon, they were fiercely indulged in a brutal fight involving them and their respective pillows. On the first floor, the Dursley's kept peacefully silent.

The morning's light shone in through the window and Draco Malfoy turned in the bed and snuggled up to the warmth beside him. He sleepily opened his eyes and smiled at the black tousled hair, half-buried in sheets, that lay in front of him. Then he remembered to look displeased just in time before the eyes and nose belonging to the same person as the dark hair stuck up and watched him, as sleepily as he had been just a second ago. Now, Draco Malfoy was wide awake, lying in a bed so close to Harry Potter that Lucius would have had him killed for it... but Voldemort had killed both his parents, just before Harry had defeated him finally. That was the story he'd been told by Severus, his godfather, who had been there. Why didn't you attack him earlier? Then I wouldn't have been so alone... A sorrowful light was lit in the green depths in front of him.

"I couldn't, Draco... I was too late." It wasn't until this that Draco realised that he had spoken out loud. Too much, he thought, careful that his thoughts didn't slip out on his tongue and buried his scowl in the pillow. I'm somehow getting too deeply involved in this... I just know it. Someone patted his shoulder and crawled over him and the warmth was gone, leaving the young Malfoy to struggle with his nightmares alone.

Some ten minutes or so later, when he had tired of the headache, Draco sourly went out of bed, got dressed and headed downstairs. What he found was a supremely annoyed Potter, rummaging around in the kitchen.

"What's up? You look slightly off track just now." Draco raised an eyebrow. Harry turned toward him and the lightning shooting from his eyes lessened a little.

"They ate it all!"

"What?" Draco was baffled.

"The only food left is some mouldy bread and salami. I hate salami!"

"Salami, eh?" Draco said, smiling. "I could survive that." Then he realised the meaning of what Harry had just said and his eyes widened, his mouth falling open. "Nothing else?!"

"Not a scrap. Aunt Petunia must have locked every little edible thing up!"

"What about the salami?" Draco could not help but grin mockingly.

"That's not edible," Harry frowned, but could not help a tiny smile from making its way onto his face.

"And why don't you unlock the pantry, then?" the pale one suggested dryly.

"I don't have a key, Draco dear," Harry pointed out, waving his hands in the air to stress his words. Draco sighed loudly and rubbed his temples, before reaching into the inner pocket of his shirt. As he picked out his wand Harry went red – he obviously hadn't thought of it himself. I really don't understand how he can be a wizard and still not find the simplest solutions. He's got too much muggle upbringing. I have to fix that, later.

"Which one's the pantry, Harry dear?" Draco returned the phrase ironically. Harry pointed, still blushing, at a door on the other side of the room. Draco waved his wand at it.

"Alohomora!" A clicking sound could be heard. With light steps he walked over to the door and opened it. He was immediately assailed by a cheese that had leaned on the door. He caught it in one hand and studied it with some interest, before throwing it to Harry.

"Put that one on the table, Har," he commanded with a smile, before diving into the delightfully stuffed pantry.

"Yessir," Harry grinned and went over to the table. "Aunt Petunia must have put all her food in there, I've never seen it quite so full before. Not to mention Petunia never puts anything in a place where it's in danger of falling down." He glanced over at the pantry, where Draco was eagerly choosing his breakfast, and added: "You could always take a couple of Dudley's sweets – the ones at the top." And thus, the candy was also assaulted by the happy little blonde, who gleefully levitated the entire stack of candy to the table.

"Might not be very healthy," he said in a trouble-free manner, "but it might be needed if they're trying to starve us. Where are they, by the way?" Draco looked at Harry questioningly before returning his concentration to his wand, which at the moment levitated a pot of honey from the pantry to the midst of the table.

"I suppose uncle Vernon's at work. I'm sure Dudley's seeing some of his horrible little friends and aunt Petunia... well, I don't know. Shopping, maybe?"

"Figures." Draco shrugged. "I'm just happy they're out of the way – at least your uncle knows how to make a fuss and I'm not in the mood for arguing right now." He settled on a chair with a smile and levitated the rest with a few quick "Wingardium Leviosa" and "Accio" charms. Then he smirked. "Do you want to eat standing, Harry?" The comment made Harry blush a second time in five minutes. Draco chuckled.

An hour later they sat at the table, the food put back in the pantry and Harry had learned the usefulness of the Animatus spell over again, as he watched the dishes clean themselves. He had seen it before, of course, at the Weasley's, but he had never thought it would be used in the Dursley home. Somehow it was easier to accept Draco's use of magic today; sleeping on the matter might have made a difference.

The doorbell rang, a loud and urging sound that resounded in the house. Harry sighed.

"I'll get it." With those words he rose and made for the door. Draco sighed and rose slowly. No need for him to get the impression I'm running in his wake wherever he goes just because I get a headache if I don't,he thought, lingering a while.

Harry went up to the doorway and pulled it open. Then he stood stunned, as did the visitor.

"Potter!" The first word was exclaimed in utter surprise. It made Harry regain his senses.

"Uh... Zabini. Come... uhm, come in." Still with a mystified look on his face, Blaise Zabini entered quickly and allowed Harry to close the door after him. That moment Draco entered the hall with sure and measured steps and stopped dead the moment he saw the guest.

"Zabini?!" he exclaimed, met by an excusing smile.

"Yeah. I was at the Manor, but I couldn't find you there. I've got stuff I want to talk to you about, so I went to Snape and made him tell me where you were. But he didn't tell me you shared the place with Potter." The Slytherin boy looked up at the ceiling with a pondering look on his face. "Though that might have been what he tried to say when I excused myself." At this, Harry and Draco both laughed, met by Zabini's excusing grin. Then he went serious again. "You really got to tell me how this came to be... but what I really came to ask was if you... well, uh... it was only meant for Draco, but I suppose you're ok too, Potter... if you wanted to arrange a Christmas party at the Manor...?" The two boys looked at each other, one pair of green eyes lighting up as clearly as the pair of silver grey ones. That very moment the door opened and exposed aunt Petunia, carrying a bag in her right hand, and Dudley with company behind her. At the sight of the three boys her face went stern.

"I didn't know you had invited another friend." Her scowl was unusually deep to come from aunt Petunia. "Dudley would like to speak to you, now don't shame yourself and don't get seen all over town," she scolded him before shooing the three toward the door. Harry went with a sigh, Draco and Zabini with slightly shocked expressions, not used to being pushed around like that in a new place, but they went along.

The moment they exited the house Dudley's friends surrounded them, explaining in short sentences that they would "talk" over by the playground. Harry understood, having dealt with Dudley's gang before. Draco and Blaise directly saw the parallels to the way Crabbe and Goyle used to behave when they were in "that kind of mood" and the three boys followed in silence, hands ready to take out their wands anytime.

Well at the playground Dudley walked up to Harry, who kept silent and stared intently at him. A couple of insults that Harry ignored later the fat little boy lost his temper and tried for a blow. Harry gripped his wand the moment Dudley's fist connected with his face, staggered a few steps backwards and nearly tore the wand out of its pocket. However, someone else was first.

"Rictusempra," Draco Malfoy howled angrily, pointing his wand at Dudley, who spun spectacularly through the air to land breathless on his back in front of his stunned companions. "Ain't it funny how things sometimes look so clear?" he snarled at Dudley. Harry sighed.

"You shouldn't be doing that, Draco. Unless you know some mind spells?" Harry wondered, making Draco snort.

"Of course I know mind spells, Har. One of the first things my father ever taught me was how to make people forget that certain things ever happened. But I've got this feeling that I'll let your cousin keep the pain. One doesn't mess with friends of the Malfoy family and he should learn that." The aggressive stance that had Dudley's gang petrified made Harry smile.

"I did notice the spell though... I've used it on you before, haven't I?"

"Uhm," Malfoy made a face to keep from blushing. "Second year, you know. Lockhart's duelling club?"

"Yes, I remember." Harry nodded thoughtfully. "And after that you used the Serpensortia on me... and Hermione explained what it meant to be a parseltounge."

"It's not fair," Draco muttered sulkily. "You shouldn't speak parseltounge unless you're in Slytherin..." The comment made Blaise burst into a fit of laughter. "Well, we're the snakes, aren't we," Draco whined and this time he really blushed.

"Yeah, Drake," Blaise said, between one giggle and the next, "but come on, that's just plain ridiculous!"

"You know, Draco, the Sorting Hat wanted to place me in Slytherin. Said I'd fit in there," Harry stated with a grin. This made the other two stop dead, jaws dropping almost to the ground.

"It did what?!" They exclaimed simultaneously, staring at him. His green eyes were suddenly nervously averted.

"Well, it did! Said I had a lot of the qualities that Slytherin had praised. And then Dumbledore told me I got it all – parseltounge too – from Voldemort!" The two Slytherins stood baffled, unable to speak, until Dudley started crawling onto his knees. Then Blaise turned to him, wand pointing in a hostile way.

"You... don't move a finger," he stated coldly. "You've just hit someone who could've been my housemate. Don't make it worse! Drake," he urged his friend. Then, Draco Malfoy did something that eluded Harry entirely, perhaps mostly because he wasn't the object of the charm. Not that he wasn't happy that it was directed at someone else, considering the way the gang twisted and turned uneasily the seconds before Draco let them go.

Then he fell to his knees, obviously tired, and Dudley's friends seemed to have fallen asleep while standing. Harry rushed toward Draco, but Zabini was by his side already, catching him.

"How do you feel, Drake? We ought to get out of here before that spell wears off." Draco nodded silently and let himself be led off by Blaise, Harry trailing behind them.

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