Disclaimer: I own nothing

a/n: there are two potc quotes in this chapter. my self-esteem is very low at the moment. my writing sucks. that's what I have concluded. (oh yes, im eating an apple as I write this, fyi)

enjoy and think of apples

Draco awoke to a tapping noise. He turned away from the sound. Tap. Tap. Tap. He pressed his ear into the mattress and covered his other ear with his hand. Tap. Tap. Tap. Groaning, Draco sat up. The small room startled him. For a split-second he had forgotten where he was before the events of last night flooded back to him. Tap. Tap. Tap. Draco shifted his gaze to the window. Startled to see something actually there, he jumped and fell off the bed. Draco's hip smashed to the floor first, followed by his elbow, then wrist. Moaning, he looked up. If he had fallen a few inches to the left, he would have landed onto a pillow and pile of blankets. Tap. Tap. Tap. Draco again looked to the now closed window. A white owl sat on the outside sill. It looked like a slow motion wood pecker as it repeatedly tapped the window. Annoyed, Draco stood and let the bird in.

"Stupid owl," Draco muttered as it landed on his outstretched arm. I glared at him and then turned its head away an dup, as if balancing something on the tip of its beak. The bird roughly shoved its leg towards Draco, waiting for him to untie the letter. Once he had done so, the owl bit his finger harshly and then soared back out the window.

Cursing the freaking owl, Draco looked down at his pinched finger. A bead of blood had appeared. He grabbed a tissue from the night stand and wiped it off.

Draco looked at the letter. It was addressed to Harry. Why had the stupid owl given it to him? Draco opened it anyway.

I shall arrive at 12 noon.

Wondering who was coming at noon, Draco flattened his hair and left the room in search for Harry.

Harry paid the fruit delivery man and, balancing several pounds of apples, closed the door. He entered the kitchen where his only living relatives sat at a table set for no more than three. He set one pound in the center of the table and then proceeded to get out napkins. As he was pouring drinks, Draco found his way into the kitchen. He stopped as he entered, looking around in wonder, and possibly surprise. Draco's gaze lingered on the television (the volume had just been cranked up by Dudley) and then rested on Harry.

Harry walked over to him. "What?"

"You got a letter," Draco said handing over the opened envelope. "and an annoying owl."

"You read it," Harry glared. He made a mental to hex him as soon as they go on the train.

"Couldn't resist, mate."

Harry looked up after reading.

"Who's coming?" Draco asked.

"Dumbledore," Harry answered He knew his handwriting by now. "in 15 minutes," He added after checking his watch.

Draco was surprised. "I slept that late?"

"Yep."

"Is he—" Draco started, but Harry never got to hear what Draco wanted to ask. Dudley ripped the letter from his cousin's hands.

"HARRYS GOT A LETTER! HARRYS GOT A LETTER!"

Vernon laughed and took the note from his son. "Who wants to write to you?"

Draco couldn't believe Harry's only family treated him this way.

"Who's coming?" Vernon asked after reading the letter.

"My headmaster. From school," Harry was curious how his uncle would react.

Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley froze, and the television blared. Petunia took an expression that reminded Harry of Narsissa Malfoy when he had seen her at the Quiddich Cup. Vernon went from shock to anger at an alarming rate. His face turned a deep red. Vernon rose from the table and stomped over to the boys.

"Why is he coming here?" Vernon showered Harry with spit.

"Most likely to talk to Malfoy," Harry said, resisting the urge to wipe his face.

Draco cringed at the mention of his name. He had hoped Harry wouldn't bring him into this.

Vernon turned to Draco. "You're 'Malfoy'?" he almost mocked.

"Yes." This muggle is nothing compared to my father.

Vernon brought his face uncomfortably close to Draco's. "So it's your fault that that bloody weirdo is coming here?" He reached a pudgy hand around Draco's thin neck. Draco waited for him to squeeze, but he didn't. Coward.

"LET HIM GO!" Harry yelled.

"DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE THAT BOY!" Vernon roared.

"I will," Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at his uncle.

"Pp-put that away!"

"No. Not until you let go of him."

"Mr. Vernon Dursly, I must ask you to unhand my student," Dumbledore said from behind him. Nobody noticed when he had arrived. "Put down your wand, Harry," He continued casually.

Vernon released Draco and stepped away. Petuna and Dudly ran behind him.

"Mr. Malfoy, may I speak with you?" Dumbledore asked kindly, slightly concerned how unfazed Draco looked.

"Yes sir."

"I believe the living room is this way..." The two walked out of the kitchen.

Uncle and nephew made eye contact. Harry didn't know how long they glared at each other. It was a loathing and challenging glare. If one dared to move, the other would be ready—ready for whatever he might try. They bore into each other's eyes, despising every detail. Nothing else mattered at the moment but the hatred filled within them. They were disgusted at each other.

"When are you leaving?" Vernon broke the disdained silence.

"I don't know."

"When is your headmaster leaving?"

"He will most likely apparate tonight"

"Apparate? Is that one of your words?

"…Yes" He's gone mad.

"Down to the depths whatever madman thought of those excuses for words!" Vernon roared.

"French," supplied Dumbledore as he and Draco returned to the kitchen. Harry and Vernon broke eye contact. "Latin based of course. Inventors of mayonnaise. It's a shame with the French really. Obsessed with raisins. Humiliated grapes really…" We know he's crazy. "Harry, you and Mr. Malfoy will be departing for the headquarters now."

"The headquarters? Now? He's going too?" Harry pointed to Draco. "How do you know he's not a spy? He could be feeding information to Voldemort!"

Dumbledore looked sternly at Harry. "You must trust my judgment,"

"Voldemort?" Vernon spoke up. "Isn't he the one that wants you killed boy?"

Harry looked at his uncle. He couldn't believe he was bringing this up now. "Yes."

"And he could be a spy?" Vernon raised his voice as he pointed to Draco.

"No!" Draco protested. "I'm not!"

"GET OUT!" Vernon roared. "GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE! YOU WILL NOT ENDANGER MY FAMILY!"

"Please," Dumbledore said gently. "If you like, I will write you explaining everything. Right now, I'm afraid I don't have the time." Vernon turned purple, but didn't dare challenge the wizard.

Dumbledore looked around after settling Vernon. Seeing what he wanted, he walked to the table and took an apple. "I hope you don't mind if I borrow this," he said to Petunia. "Portus." The apple glowed an unnatural blue and then went back to red. "Come here, Harry, Draco."

The boys stepped towards their headmaster.

"This will bring you to the headquartes." Dumbledore indicated the apple. "Harry, your trunk and Hedwig will arrive shortly after you. Please lend some clothes to Draco. He is unable to retrieve his own."

Harry and Draco glared at each other.

"Remember," Dumbledore continued. "Don't ring the doorbell. A soft knock will do. They will be expecting you." His eyes twinkled. "Ready? 1… 2… 3"