Hello everyone! Sorry again that it has taken me forever to update. I have been very busy lately, and some of the time I have been without a properly functioning computer. So I hope you will forgive me. And I also hope that you will like this chapter. So, without further ado, I give you chapter four! Have fun..!

Harry awoke the next morning to find the room deserted. As he got up out of bed, he noticed a note lying on the chair next to it, carefully folded. He put on his glasses before picking it up and sitting down on his bed again, looking at it distrustfully. He turned it over a couple of times, as if making sure it wasn't hexed, then focused his eyes on the message the little piece of paper bore. It was written in neat, curly handwriting, and looked as though it might have taken half an hour to write. Harry was not surprised to see Draco's signature at the bottom. The note read:

Harry,

Sorry, -it appears that the aurors had a number of questions to ask me as well, so Dumbledore woke me early this morning. He told me to write you a note so that you wouldn't worry (I would have told him to get a life, but I didn't feel that would make the best impression, so I figured it was best to just comply with his needs for the time being).

So now that we are all assured you will not wake up and worry yourself sick, everything should be quite in order, and Dumbledore should be happy. For now anyway. That was all.

Oh, one more thing. Dumbledore also told me to tell you that you are just to go downstairs and breakfast will be provided for you. So you won't starve, you know.

- Draco

Harry almost laughed out loud. The formality with which Draco had written this simple note was hilarious. Harry also found himself appreciating the sarcasm, the remark about Dumbledore striking his fancy in particular. He found it comforting that there was someone else out there who, like him, every now and then thought the headmaster's words were slightly funny, if not downright bizarre.

He stood up again and put the note back on the chair before stretching and walking over to the bathroom. Once he had closed the door he glanced quickly at his reflection, then bent over the sink, pouring water into his hands and transferring it to his head in a vain attempt to make his hair behave. He realised fairly quickly that his efforts were getting him nowhere however, and gave it up, sighing as he opened the door and walked back out.

Harry looked around the room for a few seconds and then found what he was looking for; his trunk with all his belongings and Hedwig's cage were standing in a corner not far from the door, and he wasn't surprised to see them there. He would probably have been far more surprised if they hadn't been fetched for him.

He walked over to them and grabbed hold of his trunk, dragging it over to his bed. Once this task was accomplished, he opened it and started rummaging around inside the thing, looking for something to wear. This wasn't an easy task, as all his clothes seemed to be hidden beneath heaps of books that he had ordered that summer along with an assortment of newspaper clippings and odd bits of parchment.

Finally, after a five minute-long search, he straightened up, holding a pair of worn jeans, a plain black shirt (one of the only things he owned that hadn't been Dudley's) and a pair of regular black socks he couldn't really remember having seen before.

After having put his clothes on, he noticed that he was, in fact, very hungry, so he decided to go downstairs like Draco had said to see what he could find to eat.

Once downstairs, he noticed that the place was far more crowded than it had been the night before, and he really hoped that the happenings of last night hadn't already leaked out to the press; the last thing he wanted to do was spend his morning talking to nosy reporters.

It was as though thinking this had jinxed him though, for as soon as the word 'reporter' came to his mind, the whole room seemed to turn around and notice him, several of them scurrying over with quill and parchment ready in their hands.

"Hello, Mr. Potter, I'm from the Daily Prophet," said a particularly eager woman, taking his hand and shaking it forcefully. Harry didn't know quite what to do; a whole crowd of people was forming around him, ogling his scar and taking it in turns to shake his hand, which he wasn't even holding out. Most of them seemed to be from the Prophet, but there were a few from various other, smaller papers and magazines who wanted to hear his story as well.

Harry tried to step backwards, but found there were people there too, with quills at the ready, eyeing him with hungry eyes, practically begging him for information. It was all a bit too much for Harry; he was completely trapped, and he couldn't hear anything because everyone was trying to make his or her question heard first, and they were all yelling on top of each other.

Harry wasn't entirely sure what happened, all he knew was that his temper rose to boiling point, and the next thing he knew, he was screaming.

"OK, SHUT UP!"

Everyone around him, and everyone else in the vicinity for that matter, abruptly stopped talking and looked at him with shocked expressions. Harry took a few deep breaths before speaking again.

"Thank you," he said, still trying to calm down. "Now, if you could all just move back a little; I am finding it difficult to breathe at the moment."

They all moved back, still looking at him as though he had just fallen from the moon. Harry took another deep breath.

"All right," he said, trying to sound normal. "You had some questions for me I believe –one at a time, please."

Their shocked expressions turned to ones of delight as they realised that he was actually going to let them question him. The witch who had approached him first raised her hand tentatively and Harry nodded in her direction, starting to find the situation quite amusing. It was like one of those press conferences movie stars had all the time. He found himself thinking that he was very he glad he wasn't one.

"Yes," the witch said hurriedly, placing her quill on the parchment she was holding and giving Harry a dazzling smile. "I was wondering if you could tell me exactly what happened last night."

This question seemed to be the one most of the reporters wanted an answer to, as every one of them started scribbling frantically on his or her parchment.

"Ok," Harry said, thinking that it couldn't hurt to tell them the surface details. "Last night I decided to go for a little stroll in my neighbourhood. This turned out to be a very bad idea as one of Voldemort's (the whole assembly shuddered in unison) Death Eaters had decided upon the same thing. To give you the short version, he decided to abduct me and take me to a strange place I still have no idea where was, where he was intending to have Voldemort (more shuddering) come collect me and, I suppose, murder me. That has, after all been his intent for the past sixteen years… or so."

The reporters stared at him with expressions of mixed horror and excitement. The witch who had asked him the question stepped back a few paces, allowing someone else to take the stand, and another soon took her place; a man with tangled grey hair stepped up and nodded quickly at Harry before clearing his throat loudly.

"I am Albert Griggs," he said quickly. "Could you tell me, in detail, what happened in that –um- "strange place you still have no idea where was"?"

Harry sighed. He was afraid of this; they were bound to start asking him questions that demanded detailed answers, and he didn't think he should give them answers of that sort. For one thing, he didn't trust them. Another thing was that he really didn't want them to acquire enough information to write a big article on him; he wasn't all that fond of being in the newspaper.

It is in situations like these that lying comes in handy, said a sneaky voice in his head.

Harry frowned at the reporter.

"Well," he started, trying to find something to say that wouldn't make it too obvious that he was withholding information. "The Death Eater took me to this place –like I said, I still don't know where it was, exactly– it was a fairly small room shaped like a square, just like ordinary rooms. It didn't have any windows though (Harry decided to leave out the part about the room having no doors). That was slightly odd I guess, but I suppose it could have been in a basement somewhere. I really don't know though. All I know is that he started speaking to me of what a stupid little boy I was and that Voldemort (yet another shudder made it's way around the circle) would come for me soon. The Death Eater was careless though, and forgot to disarm me, so after a little while, I managed to stun him and escape from there."

The people standing around him looked stunned. The wizard who had asked the question was not satisfied, however.

"Which Death Eater was it?" he inquired curiously. Harry sighed again.

"I don't know," he lied. "They wear masks, you know."

The reporter still wasn't happy though.

"Couldn't you have recognised him by his voice though?" he asked, making Harry so exasperated that he actually took a step towards the man.

"What," Harry asked back. "Makes you think that I can identify Death Eaters by their voices?"

Harry glared at him, and the man stepped back carefully, holding his hands up as if to say that he surrendered. Harry then looked around at the rest of them, daring them to challenge his statement; goodness knows he could use a good excuse to vent his frustration and the anger that had been building up inside of him all summer.

No one else got a chance to ask him any further questions though, for at that moment Draco stormed into the Leaky Cauldron, and, looking very exasperated, yelled,

"Damn it!"

A moment later, as every person in the room turned to face him, he smiled hesitantly and stuttered,

"Uh- I mean, hello everyone." His grin looked rather pained. "Um- sorry about that, don't mind me, just had a minor setback there and –uh- let myself get a bit carried away… heh… So, -uh- just go back to your –um- whatever it is you're all doing and, um, I'll just be heading off then, away from- I mean, yes."

He put a hand up to his face and hurriedly made his way through the crowd. Harry couldn't help but grin as Draco nearly knocked him over in his attempt to get away from everyone and fell to the ground, flailing his arms wildly about him, trying to catch his fall.

Draco got up quickly and looked frantically around for what he had bumped into, turning at last to face Harry, who was trying to hide his amused smirk. Draco frowned deeply and looked around at the reporters surrounding him.

"Giving another interview are we, Potter?" he said scathingly, back to his old, condescending manner of speaking.

Harry's smirk faded and he gave Draco a very ugly look as he stepped towards him.

"That's none of your business now, is it Malfoy?" Harry bitingly replied, intentionally putting emphasis on Draco's last name.

Draco narrowed his eyes and took a step forwards as well.

"I suppose not," he said, speaking much louder than needed. "And, by all means, let me not stand in your way as you tell these good people of your last, glorious adventure. Someone should write a book on you, you know. So that everyone can know just how glorious you are."

Harry gritted his teeth and grabbed Draco's arm forcefully.

"Shut up, Malfoy," he hissed, as Draco winced slightly and tried to free his arm while Harry started leading him towards the entrance to Diagon Alley. When they were directly in front of the brick wall, Harry let go of Draco's arm and turned to face him once again.

"Now," said Harry, sticking his hand in his pocket and pulling out his wand. "You can continue insulting me once we're in here (he pointed to the brick wall that concealed their entrance). But if you would let me explain first, which, if I know you right, you probably won't, I would appreciate it."

With that, Harry tapped the bricks with his wand and the entrance took form, showing them the many streets and buildings that made up Diagon Alley.

Harry stepped through first, blinking a bit in the bright sun; Draco came out right after him, looking very displeased.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, Harry all the while trying to find somewhere they could sit down and talk without being overheard or ambushed by reporters. Draco wasn't looking very happy at all; he seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed the prospect of getting into a fight with Harry in front of those people. It would no doubt, in his opinion, have made a quite good story.

After about ten minutes of wandering around, Harry finally found the kind of place he was looking for. It was a slightly dingy-looking place, and the only one of its kind Harry had ever seen in Diagon Alley. Draco looked very reluctant to go in, but Harry put his hands on the boy's back and pushed him through the door.

"This is good," he said, content. Draco gave him a look of pure loathing, but didn't say anything as they sat down in the far right corner of the room.

"So," Draco said when they had finally settled down in their corner. "It must be very important, what you have to say… You do realise that we are more likely to be overheard in a place like this, right? Hardly any people, hardly any noise, hardly anything to hide our voices behind."

Harry nodded. He had thought of that. He did, after all, remember the fiasco of having the first DA-meeting in the Hog's Head last year. This time he wasn't really planning on discussing anything secret however, he just wanted to avoid the reporters for a while, and he figured this would be the best place to do just that. And he was right too, as there wasn't a single reporter in the place. He pointed his views out to Draco, who rolled his eyes but said nothing.

"Ok, so you think I am a complete lunatic," Harry said exhaustedly. "But I really just wanted to get away from the Leaky Cauldron, for contrary to what you may think, I loathe the attention this damned scar (he pointed to his head) gives me. I just thought it would be better to tell them something, something that may not have been completely true, but all the same, I thought it better to tell them something than to have them following me around all day, begging for statements. At least this way they have gotten a little story, and I hope that will satisfy them for a while."

Harry sighed wearily and put his head in his hands; it was starting to hurt again.

"Your head hurting?" Draco said, right on cue.

Harry nodded slowly.

"Did you have anything to eat this morning?" Draco continued, frowning.

Harry shook his head carefully.

"Well no wonder your head's hurting then." Draco said matter-of-factly, sounding almost like Hermione for a moment.

Harry gritted his teeth and looked up.

"Thank you, Draco, that was very helpful. Do you have any other deep connections to make, or do you think you could close the office for today?"

Draco sent him an ugly look and crossed his arms in a very indignant manner. Harry took his head out of his hands and sighed again.

"I'm sorry," he said, causing Draco to raise his eyebrows so high they nearly disappeared into his sleek hair. "Yes, that's right. I just apologised. To a Malfoy. I must be insane. However, one thing I wanted to say right away is that I didn't include you in my tale of what happened last night when I was talking to the reporters. I figured it wouldn't be smart, seeing as your being there would pretty much give away your father's being there as well, and I didn't think it wise to give them that much information. So I made it look like I got out of there by myself."

Harry paused, suddenly feeling extremely awkward, thinking that he had never even thanked Draco for getting him out of that room.

"Uh, yeah, I meant to thank you for that, by the way… I just –um- forgot. I guess. So –uh- thank you."

Harry felt very strange, never having thought that he would ever say such things to a Malfoy. Draco seemed to think it quite odd as well; he was frowning slightly, wearing an expression that told Harry quite plainly that he had no idea what he should do.

They sat in awkward silence for a while, then Draco finally cleared his throat and spoke, the cockiness once again gone from his voice.

"Um," he said, paused for a moment, and then continued. "Yeah, you're –uh- welcome, I guess."

He looked down for a moment, then let out an exasperated sigh and looked Harry determinedly straight in the eye.

"This is ridiculous," he said irritably. "You are entirely welcome. Thank you for saying thank you. I appreciate it. I don't mind your not mentioning me in the interview-thing. I understand perfectly well that you could not give them all the information they wanted. If you had done that, well, then you would just have been plain stupid. So now that we have all that out of the way, shall we call it a day and head back?"

He gave Harry a would-be sweet smile and made an elegant gesture towards the door. Harry rolled his eyes and got up, shoving past Draco as he headed in the direction of the exit.

Once outside he continued walking, not bothering to check if Draco had followed him or not. That boy could make him so frustrated! One moment, he would be very nice and completely agreeable, and the next he would be a complete prat.

Harry picked up speed, now walking at a very brisk pace, and did not stop until he reached the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. The entrance had just formed itself when Draco came running up behind him, panting and holding a hand to his chest.

"You – prat!" he said, following Harry into the cool shade of the inn. "I wasn't trying to insult you or anything. You don't have to take everything so fucking personally you know..!"

Harry turned around on the spot, raising his eyebrows.

"Nice language," he said haughtily.

"Says you," Draco curtly replied.

Harry couldn't think of anything to say to that, so he merely shrugged. At this, Draco's face broke into a huge grin, and he walked up to Harry and held out his hand.

"You know, I really think we should just start all over again. From the very beginning," he said. "Hi, I'm Draco Malfoy. Nice to meet you."

He grabbed Harry's hand and shook it politely. Harry couldn't help but grin.

"Harry Potter," he said. "Nice to meet you too."

He let go of Draco's hand and Draco gave him a coy smile.

"Friends?" he asked. Harry shook his head, grinning.

"Who knows?" he said quietly. "Maybe we will be."

Harry frowned for a moment, suddenly remembering Draco's outburst when he came into the Leaky Cauldron earlier that morning.

"Hey, one thing-" he said, and Draco, who had turned around to go upstairs, turned back and faced him.

"Yeah?"

"Well, -um- when you came in today, and you had your little –uh- outburst –what was that all about?"

Draco's smile faded and was replaced by a very gloomy look.

"Oh that," he said darkly. "The aurors and Dumbledore found the room we were in yesterday, but my father escaped."

Well, I hope you all liked it... I promise you that more things will be happening in the next chapter. I am planning for it to be the journey back to Hogwarts, so that should hopefully be a little interesting. Oh well, please please please review! And, as always, if you have any questions, feel free to contact me (my e-mail should still be displayed in my profile). I will try to answer your questions if you post them with your reviews as well, but I can't promise anything. Thanks, all!