Draco walked the streets of Diagon Alley as if he owned them. If truth be known in a way he did. Lucius held many of the titles to the shops and was even in partnership with many of the larger ones. His father may have had a warped sense of principles and beliefs, but his business sense could never be brought into question. Well, at least when other things weren't weighing on his father's mind and time.

Draco practically sneered as he remembered the conversation that had taken place over breakfast, when Draco had mentioned his intention to go to Diagon Alley to pick up his school supplies…

~Breakfast. Malfoy Manor.~

"Diagon Alley?" his father asked, only half listening as he turned a page of the Daily Prophet.

"Yes, sir" Draco had answered, rising from the table.

"You have not been excused," his father stated without looking up at his son.

Draco sat back down looking over at his mother who had been sipping her tea during the conversation. Secretly she passed him a slightly exasperated glance before closing her eyes and returning her cup to its matching saucer. Draco had to struggle not to smile.

"Would you mind picking up a few things for me, Draco?" his mother asked, trying to bring back the conversation.

"Of course not, Mother." Draco silently blessed his mother for her effort to help him.

Still Lucius turned his paper, paying little mind as the other two continued the subject.

"I will make you out a list before you leave," his mother had fought to keep her calm at her husband's blatant refusal to acknowledge them.

"Very well."

Again silence had returned to the table, the only sound being the dry crackle of parchment as Lucius turned yet another page. It dragged on like that for some fifteen minutes, the silence stretching taunt between the three of them.

Lucius always knew just what buttons to push and when to release them.

"While you are there running errands for your mother check up on our interests." Lucius spoke calmly, again never looking up from the paper. "I have not been free to evaluate their status with my other duties taking up so much of my time lately." he stressed the word duty as if it were a hardship, and continued, "Bring me back a copy of their financial statements."

Draco waited.

Lucius' lips curled into a pleased smirk, "You are excused from the table. Both of you."

~End~

Before he had finally managed to leave the manor Draco had had to endure one of Lucius' lectures/rants on the 'degradation' of having to allow 'muggle-borns' to enter his businesses. Then had come the speech about his disappointment in Draco:

*'Why have you not taken care of your school duties earlier?'

*'This is not the behavior I would have hoped for from my son and heir to the Malfoy name.'

*'Think ahead a little, boy. You're a Malfoy. Take care of your responsibilities beforehand."

Draco rolled his eyes as he remembered the comment. His father was really one to talk on that subject, especially after Draco had just spent the last three hours of his day handling his father's responsibilities. Sighing he continued through the crowds. It seemed to him that here lately the only things that his father had to say to him were condescending. Not that he hadn't done so before now, it was just that there was something spiteful and harsh in his voice that had been missing before. Shoving his fists into the pockets of his black slacks he let a cruel smile curve his mouth. He knew the cause for the change, he just wasn't ready to accept it.

'It was right there in front of you since the training had begun,' Draco spat to himself.

Lucius was envious and, if completely honest, afraid of the boy he had raised. After all, it had been during the second day of his new training, the day he had discovered what was inside him, that he had noticed something cold flicker in his father's eyes. Draco could remember the exact moment that things between him and his father had changed.

~The Sangoire Room. Malfoy Manor~

"Concentrate Draco…" a rasping voice cooed behind him.

He had stood there within the center of the room, his arm outstretched, fingers spread out toward the opposite wall as if reaching out to an object just in front of him. The room he was in seemed to be perfect for the purpose of his sessions, it was decorated with black, wooden furniture, accented by only one other color, sangoire, the deep and rich color of blood, so dark that it appeared black at some distances. Draco was in a perfect distance to notice both the red and black transition in places. The color had unnerved him, reminding him of dried blood; however, it was the best-secluded room in the manor. Nothing less would have done for the 'Master'.

"You're not concentrating!" the voice spoke again, its harsher tone bringing Draco back from the unnerving study of the color.

"I am sorry, my Lord," he had said then as he focused back to the task at hand.

"Think of the Darkness, Draco." the voice said reverently, as if speaking of a lover. "Think of the Power it will bring you. Focus on the anger and hate you feel. Yes!" The voice had reached a high pitch of excitement as it continued, "Imagine the death and destruction of those who stand in our way. Those who side against us! Those who degrade the name of Wizard!" It continued to rise in pitch, filling the room, producing a rasping hiss as it spoke on, but now it wasn't speaking to Draco, it was speaking to the Darkness and itself.

Draco shuddered as the voice rubbed over his flesh like sandpaper. It was as though he were listening to thoughts rather than words. The thoughts of Voldemort crashed over him, drowning him in their foul desire, making him sick. Doubling over, he had fought to control himself, struggling against the nausea threatening to overtake him. Focusing, he tuned back into the convictions the Dark Lord continued to spout. He would have to remember it. His father would make sure that Draco had paid close attention to Voldemort's words. In the back of the room he knew his father was hanging on every word that left the Dark One's lips. He had seen it before; his father watching Voldemort as if he were a god, as if everything he spoke were truth and Lucius would grasped at them like a beggar scrambles for gold coins at the feet of princes. It was pathetic.

Then Draco had lost his train of thought as everything around him seemed to stop and the next sentences crashed into him.

"…the Potter boy will fall! His death shattering the hearts and hopes of those disgusting muggle-lovers! Dumbledore will fall aswell!" hoarse laughter followed the words, sounding like a saw on wood. "The last resistance of the Light will diminish as they both die at my own hand. Finally, I will finish what should have been done that night I gave him that scar! My victory will be complete. At last I will reign in the Power as I *should* have from the beginning. The Power that was suppose to be mine! Mine!"

He had stood there, listening to the voice; his body shaking violently with the hatred and anger Voldemort had spoken of, only his was directed at a different source. Hatred of Voldemort flared within him, disgust at his father, despair at how life had turned out; they waged war within him, burning him from the inside out. A fire of ice that had been tempered and controlled, flickered and blazed to life. A spirit long dormant arose in him and images of Harry filled his mind; his smile, his eyes, his shaggy hair that always needed a trim, and last came an image of those features plastered in blood, face frozen and pale, a grinning Voldemort standing over his body.

'No!' his mind reeled with the overwhelming emotions. 'No no no no nononononononon'

Voldemorts words seemed to fade, sounding as if from a distance. It had been then, in that moment he had felt the power surge through him like a cold fire. Starting somewhere behind his navel, it loomed and grew, spreading through his veins, filling him even as it consumed him. The air became thick, pressing in around him. Suddenly every sound in the room was painfully clear.

Lucius had been somewhere behind him in the shadows of the dark, blood colored room, as Draco had known, and though Draco had not seen his face he had felt the change as though he *were* Lucius. Fear and envy directed at the son he had only tolerated. Voldemort had ceased ranting; his breath uneasy and Draco knew that he was nervous. His senses had been heightened and it seemed that he could feel the air stir and hear the of papery skin crinkling as the Dark Lord grinned at what had happened.

"Well done," the voice managed to choke out as if Draco had just correctly answered a question.

During that sudden wave of power something had awoken in Draco and he had found himself calm, as if this was how he had always been. Straightening he turned toward Voldemort and opened his eyes.

A sharp intake of breath echoed around the room. He hadn't been certain then if it had been himself, his father, or Voldemort that had made the sound. If they had seen what he had it could have been any of them. Behind Voldemort stood an iron worked mirror in which Draco had found himself staring at his reflection.

It was him. There could have been no doubt about that, but the person staring back at him seemed older, stronger, confident, and yet it was himself. Around him there seemed to shimmer a light, cold and faintly blue, but it wasn't this that had made the difference; it had been his eyes. Cold, blue steel gazed back at him, into him; they had caused the change.

It had startled him at first and he had had to stop himself from shuddering, but then, as with the power, he felt himself calm, feeling as if they had been meant to be that way. It was strange and yet it couldn't have been more natural. He felt full. Had he been so empty before?

Voldemort was watching him with mixed emotions. On the surface there was the bright look of someone who has just received a new toy and in the other, deeper in was the maniacal glint of a man who could see the doom of his enemies as he appraised a new weapon. Looking over toward his father he could feel the fear and envy, mostly envy, radiating from him just as he could see it in his eyes.

"The Dragon has risen," Voldemort stated, more proud at himself than Draco.

He had turned to his father, questions filling his eyes, but his father's face had masked over.

"Now, Draco, suppress the Power. Control it."

The Power fell away easily and Draco was left as himself, his body lamenting its loss. The Power had gone, but he knew it was there.

And his father did as well.

~End~

It had taken the best part of that summer holiday to gain control of the Power inside him, but he had finally formed it to him.

Smiling he corrected himself, 'formed myself to it is more like it.'

Lucius had been there every step of the way. Not to encourage. Never that. But to make himself known, using every opening he could to break Draco's will bend or break, which ever happened first.

Draco shuddered. That had been when the sessions, as his father liked to refer to them, had begun.

Lucius may have had the right idea, but he had overestimated his own power and, worse of all, underestimated his son. Voldemort and Lucius would rue the day they had thought to use him for their own desire! They had no idea of the force they had unleashed, or the will that came with the Power. In the end the coming school term would find Draco better than he had been at its conclusion.

In the end, their pride and folly would be their downfall. Draco would not be used!

Unconsciously he rubbed his arm, the Mark hummed like a dark song under his skin. It was as if it knew what he was thinking. Knew that he had changed.

Everything had changed. He had already taken the step in the new direction. He just hoped that it wouldn't prove unwise.

'Following the path that had been chosen for me isn't exactly wise either!' he contended to himself. 'Just a cowardly way out,' sighing he continued on, 'I just have to have faith in what I am doing. Everything has to change. I have, and that use to seem near to impossible. If I can change…' he left that thought hanging in the air.

Frowning slightly he clenched his fists tighter in the pockets of his pants, 'Even I haven't changed enough to hope that much.' Stopping he closed his eyes, 'This is stupid! Even if I could hope it would be baseless, a losing battle. Hopeless…'

"Harry…"

It had been barely a whisper; he hadn't even thought he had said it out loud. Until…

"Yes?"

____________________________________

"So, what are you two doing here?" Harry asked the twins.

The five of them had been roaming Diagon Alley for the last hour gathering Ron and Hermione's school supplies. Harry had been slightly relieved that they had been allowed to go out, just the five of them. Sirius had taken some time to convince; however, after talking with Mr. Weasley quietly, Harry had saw his shoulders slump in defeat and they had been given permission. Harry had the suspicion that it had only been for two reasons: one, the Weasleys and Sirius had some things to discuss after the attack on Privet Drive, and second, Harry was sure that Dumbledore had called in a few favors and was having him watched closely.

Fred and George both seemed to shrug simultaneously but it was George that answered, "Nothing better to do I suppose. Besides, what better way to brighten The-Boy-Who-Lived's life than having us around?"

Harry grinned as they waited outside of Flourish and Blotts for Ron and Hermione, glad that he had already purchased his list of items earlier.

"Yeah," piped in Fred. "And also, we had to get some supplies for Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," he lowered his voice slightly, "Mum isn't suppose to know though. We think that once we actually get started, you know, getting orders and making a profit and all that, she'll come around."

Harry slightly doubted that Molly Weasley would ever approve, she would be proud no matter what, but she would never truly approve. Just as he doubted that Fred and George would ever give up on it. They would make it one day, Harry was certain of that, they're ideas were too ingenious not too. Smiling he remembered Dudley's encounter with the Twins' Ton-tongue Toffee, turning as the door to Flourish and Blotts opened.

"Well, where to next, 'Mione," he asked as Hermione and Ron joined them, a new bag in their possession.

"We should be done," she commented, glancing down at her packages and the half crumpled lift that she carried. "I think that's got everything, Ron?"

"Hmm?" Ron looked over toward her.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, she tried to place her hands on her hips but the packages prevented her. "Oh, honestly! Can you think of anything that we have still need to get?"

"Yeah…" he grinned.

"What?!" she exclaimed as she went back over her list and then through her packages. "What have we missed? I can't believe I mi-…"

"Ice-cream."

Hermione about dropped her things as she looked up at Ron, relief, humor, and irritation flaring in her eyes. Harry, Fred and George fell into a fit of laughter as Ron just stood there smiling innocently at her.

"I meant school-wise," she stated primly, but the smile couldn't be held back for long and she added, "but I wouldn't mind some ice-cream.

"Any objections?" posed Harry. No one said a word. "Motion passed."

"Good! And seeing as you passed the motion, Harry, it's your treat."

They all smiled and Harry couldn't gather up the energy to scowl at Fred.

"Too much talk, not enough action," Ron added as he began to walk in the direction of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. "Come on."

They didn't have to be told twice.

-

They sat out in front of Florean's, the trio listening to the details behind the twins' 'Farewell-End-of-Year-Going-Away-Prank'.

"What did you call them again?" Harry asked.

"Chameleon Color Tablets, "George answer proudly. "They change a person's skin three different colors, in last years case it was yellow, blue, and red, and it lasts a little over three hours."

"Yellow, blue, and red." Hermione muttered, her eyes twinkling as she came to a realization. "Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor! I don't know why I didn't see it before! Especially since it was the Slytherins that you did it to."

The twins beamed at her, "Ingenious wasn't it?"

"Yes, but how did you manage to contaminate the entire Slytherin table and without getting caught?" she asked, curious.

"Oh, we did get caught." George admitted. "You would have thought that Snape had been exposed and was going through the red phase, he was so upset," he smiled remembering the Potion Professor's face.

"Dumbledore managed to calm him down. I would rather have stared down Snape than face Mum when we got home. She was so upset…" Fred shuddered before continuing, "Anyhow. You know how all our meals are prepared below in the kitchen and then appear above on our tables?"

The other three nodded listening.

"Well, we went down into the kitchen on the pretense that we wanted some supplies for our house. You'll remember the little party we had that night." The trio smiled as they remembered Fred and George's going away party. "And well," George continued, "the house elves were so pleased to be of service that they didn't notice when we placed the tablets in the drinks on Slytherin's table. They dissolve in liquid, you know, and since they aren't exactly harmful they didn't trip the spells placed around the kitchens."

The five of them grinned at each other. Only Fred and George could have pulled something like that off and then gotten away with it.

The Slytherin's had been so upset. Harry smiled remembering the indignant look on Malfoy's face as he bolted into a standing position looking straight at the Gryffindor table, straight at Harry. Malfoy had been a bright shade of yellow at the time and it had been hard for Harry to hold his gaze without laughing. Eventually it had failed and he had had to break the contact as he doubled over in laughter.

Harry took another spoonful of his sundae, letting the spoon stay there as he remembered a yellow Draco Malfoy. It had been one of the best moments as he watched Malfoy straighten himself before sitting back down as if nothing had happened, his pride back in place. Harry always marveled at the way Malfoy could pull himself back together, how even the most common movement he made was graceful. He had made yellow look good, as if everyone were suppose to be that color. Harry had felt awkward in his tan flesh tone…

"Harry…"

"Yes?" he answered, automatically turning his head in the direction of the voice.

Questioning Green met uncertain Grey and everyone went silent…

______________________________

Draco stood there, staring into emerald pools of light as if seeking his salvation in them. He couldn't tell if he was breathing and, personally, he couldn't care less. All that mattered in this moment, in the entire world, was the person staring back at him. Unruly dark hair strayed in front of his eyes giving him the appearance of careless sensuality. How it possible to look that attractive when he always appeared to have just woken up, thrown on any clothes he could find and simply run a hand through his hair, Draco would never know, but attractive was the only word that came would come to mind at the moment.

'Damn it, Potter! I didn't need this now!' he cursed to himself, 'Just my luck to run into Wonder Boy the one day I decide to visit Diagon Alley!'

Recovering, he hoped that he hadn't been staring for too long and fixed a slight sneer on his lips as he broke the contact with Potter's eyes. Deliberate and slow, he let his gaze wander over the entire table passing by Granger and the younger Weasel before fixing on the Weasley twins. Memories of the Farwell Feast flashed through his mind and he could tell by the contented smirks on their faces that that was exactly what they were remembering as well.

'Could this day get any better?'

______________________

'Malfoy.' Harry thought as he snapped back to reality. His gaze had lasted longer than Malfoy's, continuing to look at him, even after he had looked away. His mind was fighting for reason like air after being consumed by the intense gray eyes for what seemed like eternity. Drowning in them so completely it had been a shock when he lost their contact, leaving him dazed and puzzled. He had seen something flash across Malfoy's face like a shadow; dark, fleeting, and intense before disappearing beneath the famous Malfoy Sneer. Harry's brows knitted together as he thought over the other boy, only half listening to what was being said.

_________________________

"Malfoy." Fred stated coolly, echoing Harry's thought as he tried to hide the grin.

"Weasley," disdain slid easily from Malfoy's lips as he spoke.

"Feeling alright, Malfoy," George answered. "A little blue perhaps that school is starting soon and Evil Minion Summer Camp is coming to a close?"

Draco simply shrugged. It was the best he could do to keep from smiling at the memory. He had been such a child less than a summer ago. How things had changed in so short a time. 'How appropriate for what I have become… what I *am*' he corrected. A slight gesture and Weasley would become any color that Draco could imagine. The thought was rather amusing and Draco was having trouble fixing his lips into a sneer when the image of hot pink George Weasley kept making the corners of his mouth twitch. "I am touched at your concern, Weasley," smirking, he cocked an eyebrow, "Care to find out what I learned over the summer? I'll gladly give you a demonstration."

Fred and George returned his gaze evenly, undaunted by his remark; however, the expressions on Hermione and Ron's faces completely made up for the other two's lack of concern. Hermione stared at him incredulously, her eyes wide and lips parted in a silently expression of shock. She never failed to remind him of McGonagall, but it was Ron's face that brightened his day considerably. He sat there looking at Draco, three emotions waging war over his face; fear had drained the color completely from his face, horror had his lips moving in silent accusations, and hatred burned over Draco from the redhead's gaze.

'Never disappointing are you Weasel?' he almost smiled at the thought. Turning, his gaze focused on the last occupant of the table.

Harry eyes locked with his, studying him. Draco would almost swear that they were searching his, asking for a denial, an explanation, an argument, anything. He fought to keep his mask in place, trying to maintain his cool demeanor under the intensity of the emerald gaze. Finally something flickered beneath the surface and bright emerald melted into dim jade as sadness and disappointment crashed between the two of them. Draco could almost feel the emotions wash over him before Harry averted his gaze, finding in the ground a more interesting study. Draco watched as Harry's shoulders stiffened and he sat up straight, turning an expressionless face to Draco.

Struggling to suppress the anger and hurt that threatened to lash out at the five of them, Draco focused his gaze on a table behind them. 'Fuck ya'll too!' he screamed in his head, 'I'm a Slytherin, not a fucking Voldemort/Death-Eater-incarnate! I have a mind and will of my own! I belong to myself, not some death eaten, world domination obsessed maniac!'

Draco was no longer sure his anger was faced solely at the Gryffindors in front of him and he was aware that the table he was looking at was slowly starting to bend in on itself. Pulling himself and the table back together without drawing attention, Draco was beginning to recover his calm as a familiar voice interrupted his focus.

"Get lost, Malfoy."

It was the same voice he had heard hundreds of times before yelling insults a hundred times worse but this time it made Draco flinch inwardly. 'Damn you, Potter!'

"You heard him, Ferret, shoo!" Fred stated, making slight waving motions with his hands.

"I heard him, but I've never read any law that said I had to obey him, Weasley. I'm not part of his adoring public or a pathetic fan who hangs on his every word like he is some sort of a god."

It came out a little bit more bitter than he had intended but it had always grated on him how Potter had managed to attract people to him so easily. All those people who watched his every move, those who smiled and joked with him, and especially those who were lucky enough to be allowed to know him as well as these four did. He hated them all! And damn it he hated himself for wanting to be one of them!

"Come off it, Malfoy," Hermione responded before either of the Weasleys had a chance. "Let's all enjoy our last days of separation, we'll be seeing more than enough of each other during the school year."

"Not if I can help it," Ron murmured earning him a few muffled snickers and a glare from Hermione.

"Merlin knows, I could use less of you in my life, Weasel," Draco spat.

Daggers glinted from Ron's eyes as he stood up, his chair scrapping against the ground before falling backwards. The sound of metal and stone resounded, harsh and sharp in the air. The clamor and the sound of Ron's footsteps as he made his way around the table seemed to add to the din, but none of it registered to Draco. He stood there, calm and waiting, but Ron never made it around.

"Then do yourself and us a favor and bugger off."

The voice had been soft but something in it had stopped Ron in mid-motion of trying to get around the table to Draco and they both looked over at Harry. Again his eyes rose to meet Draco's, calm and blank as he surveyed the blonde. Draco searched it, but Harry's face was closed, just as it always was when the raven-haired boy confronted him. Whatever he was thinking was held tightly behind the wall he had put up.

'Ah, now there's the Potter I know and *hate*,' Draco laughed sarcastically to himself, 'At least I am more familiar with this side of myself.'

"I don't do charity work, Potter." smirking, he leaned back against a lamppost. "And besides, I *am* doing myself a favor. I haven't been this entertained all day."

"I've no doubt about that," Hermione interjected stiffly, "even insulting you, we have to be more stimulating than your normal company."

"Yeah," Ron grabbed at the opening, trying to get back into the conversation, "Speaking of which, where are your bodyguards?"

Draco shrugged, "I don't know, haven't seen them all summer." 'Liar.' "I don't need them to deal with the likes of you Weasel." 'That was true enough… Great! Now I am arguing with myself.'

Ron took a step forward, but Harry put his arm out and held him back.

"Come on, Weasel, let's test my boast." Draco egged on. It should have frightened him how easily he slipped back into the role of smug Slytherin bad-boy, but it didn't. "Don't let Potter stop you. We're not at Hogwarts yet, no points will be taken from your precious house."

'Don't get too comfortable, Idiot!' Draco mentally reprimanded himself. 'Go too far and you lose who you are, any chance at making the stupid prophesy come to fruition, and… well, lets not get into that.'

"Don't you have anything better to do, Malfoy?" Harry glared at him from behind the surface of his glasses.

"Not particularly." He smirked, "In fact, I just finished. I have the rest of the day free."

"Well don't let us keep you." George spoke up again.

"There must be something that you need to be doing." Fred added. "Bleaching your roots? Getting a manicure? Sacrificing innocent animals?"

Draco grinned, "First off, my hair is naturally this color. Second," he brought his hand up to examine them, "already had one this morning." He snickered at the aghast looks on the boys faces who shamefully hid their own nails, even Harry, "And third, I don't do sacrificial; one because it is against my beliefs, whether you believe me or not I couldn't care less, and two," he continued, ticking off the reasons with his fingers, "it would ruin my manicure."

"Well *we*" Harry stressed, "don't have the luxury of a free day. We have to be going." Harry turned to the other four. "They'll be waiting."

"Have a curfew, Potter?" Draco joked.

"Not really," Harry shrugged, "just a promise to keep." Standing up he began to walk away from Florean's and Draco, "Something you would know nothing about." the others followed, smiles tugging at their lips.

Undeterred, Draco walked after them, catching them up. "I'll just see you to your destination," he grinned.

"Insufferable git!" Harry scowled.

"I'm beginning to think you don't want me around, Potter."

"Ten points to Slytherin for that remarkable display of deduction," Harry growled sarcastically.

Before Draco could answer a low growl sounded in front of him. It wasn't Potter this time, it was lower and animalistic. Looking forward, Draco paused, face to face with a large, black, shaggy dog. Beside it stood the wary figures of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"We've been waiting. Where have you five been?"

___________________________

Mrs. Weasley's voice sounded annoyed, but the relief behind it had Harry relaxing slightly. They had lost track of the time at Florean's and then Draco had showed up. Safe to say, they were a good twenty minutes late meeting back up with the others.

"Uh…"

"Um…"

"Well…"

"You see…"

"We were... Uh…"

The uncertain replies stammered down through the five of them, but they were cut off before any could come up with a whole sentence.

"We were worried sick." Mrs. Weasley continued, her gaze trailing down the line of them. "Anything could have happened! It isn't safe. Especially for you Har…" Her voice trailed off abruptly as her eyes caught sight of Draco.

He had been the only one who remained straight and silent, a slightly bored expression on his face as he watched the exchange. Smiling back at her he held her startled gaze. "Mrs. Weasley, pleasure to see you again." he stated pleasantly, inclining his head slightly in greeting.

Draco's smile grew wider and Harry could only stare, shocked into silence. Whatever he had imagined of Malfoy, greeting one of the Weasleys with any semblance of courtesy was definitely not on that list. He could sense the echoing stares of Ron and Hermione at his back. The twins seemed to be handling it better although they too were silent. This had to be a miracle; two first in one day: Draco Malfoy being pleasant to a Weasley, and five Weasleys all silent at once.

Clearing her throat, Mrs. Weasley struggled to find a reply. Failing, she looked around helplessly. Her husband came to her rescue.

Smiling warmly, Arthur Weasley stepped forward, hand extended, "Mr. Malfoy," he addressed kindly.

"Call me Draco, please, Mr. Weasley." Draco interrupted taking Mr. Weasley's hand in his own, shaking it firmly. "'Mr. Malfoy' sounds too much like my father. No need to be formal after all."

"Well, Draco." Mr. Weasley fumbled over the name as both of them withdrew their hands. He recovered quickly, his smiled brightened toward the blonde youth. Harry wondered how relieved Mr. Weasley was now that he didn't have to use the name Malfoy. "Since it seems we have a first name basis beginning, why not just call me Arthur, hm?"

Smirking, Draco agreed.

Confused, Harry turned to the other four for an explanation. Their faces reflected his own confusion. They would be no help, so Harry tuned back into the conversation. Draco and Mr. Weasley had begun talking over the latest restriction on enchanted muggle objects. Arthur was thrilled at the subject and Draco seemed to take it in stride, adding his own ideas in here and there, but generally listening. Actually *listening*.

'How does he do that?' Harry wondered, 'Just a moment ago he was his old insensitive self, exchanging insults with Ron like there was no other purpose in life, and now he's standing here discussing *muggle* objects with Ron's dad as if they had been friends for years.'

"I'm sorry, Arthur, but I must decline the invitation."

Draco's voice roused Harry from his thoughts. 'Invitation? What invitation?' Looking around at the others Harry noticed that Molly was fidgeting, Ron had gone pale, Fred and George looked more sober than Harry had ever seen them, and Sirius was coiled tightly snarling his dislike. Looking over at Hermione, she alone appeared thoughtful, calmer than she had before.

"Are you sure, Draco? I am sure no one would mind another person for dinner." Mr. Weasley entreated, ignoring everyone else.

Draco grinned, "I'm not too sure about that." Mr. Weasley looked at the expressions of those around him. Harry saw comprehension dawn on his face as Draco continued, "Besides, I am expect back at the Manor in an half an hour and if I am late Father wont be pleased. Also, I have one more stop to make before leaving Diagon Alley."

Mr. Weasley sighed, defeated, "Ok, ok." he mumbled good naturedly, his hand coming to rest on Draco's shoulder companionably. "Another time perhaps."

Harry held his breath as Draco's shoulders stiffened under the other man's hand, a shadow flitting across Draco's face before being covered quickly. "Absolutely," Draco replied almost cheerfully, his shoulders relaxing as he moved back to take Mr. Weasley's hand again. "Until then."

Arthur smiled, "Until then, Draco."

Nodding to each of them in turn, Draco made his way back the way they had come. Casting a glance at Hermione and Ron, Harry hurried after Draco. He had stopped a little way ahead waiting for Harry to catch up to him.

______________________________

"Yes, Potter?"

The drawl was back in his voice.

"I thought you said you had nothing else to do, Malfoy."

"I lied." amusement filtered through his voice, "After all this time I thought you would have been able to guess. Isn't that what I am best at?" The question was directed more at himself than Harry, but it would serve him either way.

Harry shifted uncomfortably for a while before impatience and curiosity got the best of him, "What the hell was that?"

This time Draco turned around to meet his eyes, gray shimmered silver in the fading sunlight. "It is commonly called having a conversation. It is what most civilized people do, Potter."

"I know what a conversation is, damn it" Harry ground out between his teeth. Annoyance was rising not so slowly into his voice, "What I don't understand is your sudden change of character. Last year you wouldn't have spared a glance at Mr. Weasley and now, after a quick hand shake you two are on first name basis and chatting up about his work. *Muggle* related work at that."

"I wasn't under the impression that being nice and courteous was a crime. Even if it is me," he added. "I can be cruel and harsh, as you know, but I can also be fairly civil! I am not perfect. I am only human," 'Well, partly', "Potter, I make mistakes just like you. Oh! Wait! You're Harry Fucking Potter and *you* don't make mistakes do you?" He was slowly losing control; his arguments were getting weak and erratic. He didn't give a shit and apparently neither did the raven-haired boy.

Harry jumped straight to his own accusations. Draco's word had struck a sore spot and he did want to dwell on it too much. "I don't know what you're playing at, but stop it!"

"Stop what? Having conversations? Being nice? Isn't that what you keep telling me to do? Make up your mind, Potter. I can't obey if you don't tell me what I should be doing." Draco spat, causing the others to look over at them. Sighing tiredly he added, "The Lord and Lady only know why I trouble myself! May they bless the poor fool who can understand what you're about, believe me, they'll need it to put up with your shit, Potter!"

Ron started to step forward, but Harry motioned him back.

"Then I will be calm and *try* to teach you to understand the English of normal people for once. Five minutes before now you were swapping insults with Ron. Vehemently I might add" Harry said calmly, "That is an awfully quick transition, even for one as great as you, from the attitude you had for Ron to the attitude that allowed you to get along with his father like a feeling human being."

"You don't know me, Potter." Draco growled.

"Your right, I don't."

"Don't patronize me!" even to himself his words were petty and meaningless.

"After that poor comeback?" Harry smirked and Draco decided he didn't like how it looked on him. "You're probably doing a better job at it than I would ever do."

Smirking Draco retorted, "Maybe you do know me a little. Now, bugger off, Potter."

Harry forced a grin from his face, "That's exactly what I am talking about. You keep slipping up every now and then, by acting like you have a heart. Before telling me to bugger off you accidentally paid me a compliment, or what I assume you meant as a compliment although I am not sure. What would your father say if he had heard that just now?" He fought to keep his mouth in a thin line. "So…"

"So what, Potter?" Draco sounded slightly annoyed. The talk of him having no heart and the mention of his father hit him hard. 'If only you knew…' Tired beyond reason he tried to pull the conversation to a halt, "Like I said, I have something to attend to before I go back to the slave galley."

Harry raised his eyebrow but didn't comment on the last statement. "So, how long do you think you can keep this up?" Harry asked.

"I've been doing it since I learned to talk, what is your excuse?" Draco mumbled incoherently.

"What?" Harry hadn't been able to pick out the words.

Draco sneered, trying to recover himself, "As long as you can, Potter."

"I don't understand."

Laughing softly, "Well, that's a first isn't it?" he asked sarcastically.

"Nevermind." Harry was frustrated by now. "Like Hermione said, lets continue this at school when we can't help but run into each other."

"Fine. See you then." Draco turned away, beginning to walk away again.

Harry turned back, joining his friends again and they headed back to the Leaky Cauldron.

At a safe distance Draco mumbled a silent prayer and whispered, "Blessed Be, Harry…"

_____________________

As Draco turned down toward Knockturn Alley, he allowed himself one thought before entering the shadows. Here, straying thoughts could be deadly.

'I was glad to see you alive, Harry. Glad to know that I helped in that. I was worried.' frowning he ended his thoughts, 'One day I'll drop this facade, Harry. One day, you will have to face your own…'

Stopping in front of rundown shop, a sign above its door spelling in peeling red paint the name 'Adava's Antiques and Artifacts'. The windows were pitch black with grime and soot aided by blocking spells. As he stepped up to the door, wand in hand he muttered an indistinct word and touched the center of the door.

It opened, a black hooded man ushering him in.

He entered.

The door closed.

Silence filled the darkened alley.