Disclaimer: I own nothing.

a/n: I have a warning for this chapter: weirdness and boredom. I had major writers block and I wanted to get in another chapter before break was done. Here is the first thing that came to mind. I can't believe I wrote this. Justification- Rowling doesn't do much in telling us that Harry and Ron have much of a dirty side. It's unnatural.

I've also decided to proof read better and more than once. Just because I cringe every time I see a typo.

And I cringe a lot.

Almost forgot. There is only one quote in this chapter. And it's my longest chapter!

Oh well.

On with it.

Dinner was delicious, however not all together enjoyable. Half expecting to be in the middle like usual, Harry was slightly disappointed when Hermione sat next to Ron. Not that he had feelings for her in that way, he normally could have cared less. This time was different. This time in meant Harry had to sit next to Draco.

Just to make matters worse, people from the order kept popping in and leaving without saying much. Most just wanted to see for their own eyes if Draco Malfoy had indeed decided not to join the dark side. For some reason, everyone could not simply rely on what they had been told.

Despite this, dinner went somewhat smoothly—and somewhat silently. That is, dinner was going smoothly until dessert. Draco was happy with his cookies, but he couldn't help craving an apple. The problem was, this particular apple happened to be in the fruit basket, and this particular fruit basked happened to be sitting in front of Ron.

Normally, it would have been on big deal. Draco needed just to ask Ron to pass the fruit basket, and his troubles would be over. It wasn't that simple.

Draco didn't know how to get Ron's attention. There was nothing wrong with his social skills; it was just that, Draco did not know how to address Ron. If they were sitting next to each other, Draco could nudge him and ask him to pass the basket. However, Harry was in the way. Harry seemed to cause so many troubles for Draco. As it ended up, Draco needed to address Ron. And he was back at the beginning.

Normally, he would call him 'Weasel,' but he couldn't say that here. His next choice would be 'Weasley,' but there were far too many at the table. Draco took an inward sigh. He would have to call him by his first name, something that most Slytherins were not accustomed to. There was no other way. He had to call him 'Ron.'

"Weasel- oh, I mean-" Dang. He messed up.

Harry turned and hit Draco over the head with the palm of his hand.

"You're not dead," Ron pointed out.

"No… he shot me!" Draco pointed to Harry.

"The curse is still upon us!" Hermione raged.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"No idea," said Ron

"And I thought he changed," Hermione said almost to herself.

"We use first names here, Draco," said Mr. Weasley sternly.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Ron," he spoke up, "could you pass me an apple?"

"Sure," said Ron carelessly. "Catch." Ron threw the apple over Harry's head to Draco.

Draco wasn't expecting this. He looked stupidly at Ron just in time for the apple to come smashing into his head.

"Ow," he said dully. Draco made a noise somewhere between a growl and a moan as the apple rolled on the floor. He bent over to get it.

"Oh, sorry," said Ron. "Here's another one." He tossed an orange over. This one hit Draco in the back, as he wasn't done getting his apple.

"Ah—stop," Draco said sitting up.

Hermione giggled. "Ron, stop," she said, and put her hand on his arm as he reached for a pear.

"Brilliant," said Fred to himself. "Bloody brilliant."

After dinner (and many jokes about Ron attacking Draco with fruit) Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco, Fred, George, and Ginny went upstairs. They went into the room they always did—the one Harry, Ron, and Draco shared. Once in, they settled down. Ron and Hermione sat on the bed to the left, Harry and the twins took the middle, Draco took the bed to the right, and Ginny occupied Hedwig and Pig.

"Ron, we have to tell Harry," said Hermione after the door had been shut so they wouldn't disturb Mrs. Black.

"Tell me what?" asked Harry.

"With Malfoy here?" Ron asked, his ears turning a light red.

"First names," Draco mocked. Ron ignored the comment, so Harry glared at him.

"Tell me what?" Harry repeated.

"Ron and I have decided to date," said Hermione.

"It's about time," said Draco before Harry had a chance to say anything.

"But they haven't got the chance to date yet," said Fred.

"Well," said Harry, "I'm happy for you." He really was. Harry hadn't noticed much of a change, and for that, he was glad.

"So," said Draco as he sat on the floor between Harry and Ron's beds, "how far have you gone?" Draco wiggled his eyebrows up and sown suggestively.

"Shut up!" said Hermione. She hated Malfoy just then.

"Why not?" Being a guy, and one with very few morals, Draco saw nothing wrong.

"We're not even out of school yet!" Hermione was beginning to worry that Draco might spread rumors. Paranoid? Maybe.

Draco shrugged, "So."

"Fred, get the pills," George whispered.

"Rightyo." POP. Fred disappeared.

"Oh my god," said Ginny. "I know what those pills are for."

"No you don't," said George.

POP. Fred reappeared with a small black sack in his hand.

"Ginny thinks she knows what the pills are for," George said to Fred.

"No you don't," said Fred.

"You're not the only ones with extendable ears," she said.

"You've been eavesdropping on us!" said George.

"What? Gona wine to mum I'm doing what you do all the time?" she challenged. "With your own invention?"

"Leave Ginny," said Fred.

"No."

"This conversation will get too corrupt for you're little ears. Leave," George pointed to the door.

"Then I'll tell mom you're talking about Ron and Hermione having sex!" Ginny folded her arms.

"Let her stay," said Ron and Hermione together.

"You wouldn't," said Fred.

"I would."

"You wouldn't," said George

"I would."

"I think she would," said Harry.

"Fine," said the twins, realizing defeat. Then, to Ron's horror, his brothers walked to either side of him. He knew he would have to eat something.

"Lets see if we don't change your mind about sex," said George. He and Fred pinned a struggling Ron to the bed.

"Open up," said Fred.

Ron kept his mouth firmly shut, but a small flesh colored pill, less than half the size of a jelly bean, was shoved into his mouth anyway.

George held Ron's mouth shut and pinched his nose. "You can't have air until you swallow." Ron swallowed immediately.

Hermione looked disgusted. "You're horrible," she said. "Sorry Ron, I'm leaving."

Ginny shrugged and followed Hermione out of the room.

"Finally," muttered Fred. "Feel any different?" he directed towards Ron.

"Should I?" Ron looked worried.

"This pill makes you extremely horny, extremely fast," said George.

"I need to find a bathroom," Ron said, and attempted to get up.

"No need little bro," said Fred. He and George held Ron down again. A small purple pill was shoved into his mouth. Ron knew the procedure; he swallowed.

"What does that one do?" he asked sitting up.

"Two things," said George. "It cancels the effects of the first pill, and something else," he smiled evilly.

"What else does it do?" Ron looked worried again.

"Take a look," said Fred, glancing down.

Ron frowned. "What?"

George coughed. "Take a look," he repeated, and glanced down also.

Ron hesitated and then looked down. He pulled the waist band away from his body.

"Woah," he said, and looked at his brothers. "Does it stay that big?"

"Until you eat another one," said Fred indicating the bag.

"Wicked," Ron said looking down again. Then he let the waist band snap back to his body.

"I thought you only made prank and joke stuff," Harry commented suspiciously.

"We let our minds wonder on this one," said George.

"And because you are our financer," Fred said, handing Harry a pair of pills. He looked at Draco and took on a quizzical look.

"I joined your side!" said Draco defensively.

"Yeah, ok," Fred handed him a pair as well.

Harry examined the flesh colored pill. "Does it have any other side effects?" he asked.

"We've seen none so far. Our test-ees seem to be doing just fine," said George.

"Who are your test-ees?" asked Draco sarcastically. "Us?"

"Not you," said Fred. "George and I."

"I think I'll save mine till later," said Harry.

Draco considered this. "I don't want to loose mine," and he dropped the pills into his mouth.

Only Ron knows how the pills went over with Hermione. And, no, I'm not suggesting anything.

To say that being at Grimmuald Place was boring was an understatement. With Draco at the headquarters, the members were being more careful (if that was possible) to make sure that nothing was overheard. Dumbledore made that possible.

Dumbledore had found or invented (Hermione was doing the research) a new way of communicating face to face using a blank slate. It was very light, about eight by ten inches, and pitch black. To use it was very simple. One must hold it and think of what he or she wanted to say. The words would appear on the slate. Once it had been read, the words would disappear.

This replaced the small conversations between Order members at the door which extendable ears could be used. Fred and George were now working on extendable eyes, but there was a lot of work to be done, so they said.

At first, Harry, Ron, and Hermione thought this extensive security was because of Draco. In a way, they were right, but weren't thinking alone the correct lines. The trio thought that the Order still did not fully trust Draco, and they didn't want the possibility that information would find its way to his ears. The truth was the exact opposite, actually. It was not to him that the Order was afraid information would leak to.

A couple of days after Dumbledore put the slates into use, Draco was invited (told, really) to join an Order meeting.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the twins couldn't believe it when the soft knock sounded from the bedroom door. All were jealous, and almost angry that Draco could join, and they could not. Why did Draco get to join a meeting, when only a few weeks ago, he was well on his way to becoming a Death Eater.

Draco knew why. The Order wanted information from him. Draco had a lot of information to give. His father was positive he had molded him into the perfect son, and fed him the latest Death Eater news.

Draco welcomed the information. He was finally getting attention from his father.

It started in his fourth year at Hogwarts. He started his "Death Eater Training," as Lucius had called it. During that year, Draco learned to respect—meaning love—and fear his father. Love was not a word to be used in the Malfoy family.

Which was why Draco was terrified of joining this Order meeting. It had been drilled into his head not to leak information. It had been drilled into his head to relish in pain, hatred, and horror. How could Draco stand in front of the people he had considered enemies for so long and go against everything he had been taught? No, he would rather stay out and let Harry or Fred or Ginny join the meeting instead.

But it had to be him.

So when Mr. Weasley kindly asked for a small amount of his time, how could he say no? Deep inside, Draco was weak, and he knew it. Is that not why he fled from his home?

"Be strong," his father had told him. "It will do you good to be strong," he had said darkly.

Determined to listen to at least one bit of advice and not go completely against his father, Draco stepped into the meeting room.

"How was it?"

"What do you know?"

"What did they tell you?"

"What did you tell them?"

Draco met the only other teens in the house in his shared bedroom. He felt horrible. Draco was surprisingly bold at the meeting. He gave a book load of information, and learned a book load too. Although he was not a member, they had shared their knowledge with him (only after taking an oath of secrecy). Together, they had filled in some holes. He had to admit, it was fun piecing things together. It left him, however, with a miserable after-feeling.

"Draco?"

"How was it?"

Too many questions. Even after the meeting had ended, he could not escape them. Draco looked at the leg of his bed. He wanted to kick it until every bone in his foot was broken. Then he wanted to hit his head against the wall until his skull cracked. After that, he would run unto the wall so many times, he would make a hole, and then fling himself out of it, hopefully falling three stories to his death.

"Hello?"

"Draco?"

He was being moved away from the bed to a chair. Draco was suddenly aware of his surroundings.

"What do you want?" he asked bitterly, getting up and beginning to walk away.

"Information," supplied George bluntly.

"Everybody wants information," said Draco. His old personality was surfacing. Turning around, he whipped out his want and pointed it at the people he had begun to call friends. "I am in no mood to give you what you want." Satisfied with their stunned silence, Draco turned around again.

Ha! He had shown them. Never mess with a Malfoy.

"Unless…" Draco turned yet again and made a beeline to Harry. He stopped a foot away from him. "We could trade information."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Fine."

Draco was suddenly overwhelmed with a new emotion. Instead of feeling angry and annoyed, he felt regret. How could he have been so cold to the only people who accepted him? He made for his bed.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, lying on his stomach. "Remember, because I'm not a member of the Order, I was sworn to secrecy."

"Well that ruins it," said Ron.

"Not completely," said Hermione. "I have a question. Why did you choose not to join the Death Eaters?"

Draco felt as if he had just had a blow to the stomach.

"Alright," he gulped. "My question is for Harry. What was is this 'prophesy' I keep hearing about?" Draco had heard it mentioned both at his house and during the meeting, but no one wanted to inform him what it was.

Harry felt a similar feeling Draco had just had. He knew that Draco was referring to his prophesy. Harry had not told his friends about it yet.

"You go first," said Harry.

"I'm waiting," said Draco.

"Mine takes a while to explain."

"You don't know how much I don't want to answer my question."

"Best to get it over with then."

Draco glared at Harry, but considered it nonetheless. He did have a point…

Draco rolled onto his back. It was much easier to look at the ceiling.

"I'm weak," he said at last. "I'm a wimp; I don't like pain—inflicted on me or anyone else," he specified. "I don't like death; I don't like being scared; I'm afraid of the dark; I can't live up to my father's or the Dark Lord's expatiations; I can't be a Death Eater because I can't plot murder." Draco rolled over and made eye contact with Harry. "That's why."

Hermione looked confused. "Draco, isn't your father in Azkaban?"

"No," said Draco, still looking at Harry. "My mother is there in his place. They are pulling a Crouch on the dementors, but I told the Order. They're going to investigate."

"Wow," said Hermione.

Harry wasn't expecting such a confession from Draco. Come to think of it, he didn't know what he would have expected, but it certainly wasn't that. He never thought Draco felt all of that. Draco didn't appear to feel those things.

"Your turn," Draco interrupted Harry's thoughts. "Tell us about the prophesy Harry."

Harry felt the weight of six pairs of eyes on him. He felt almost panicky as he prepared to tell his friends the source of all his troubles… his horrors. Harry looked at each of them in turn, then down at his shoes, and began.

Harry told them, without interruption, what the prophesy said and meant, and how Dumbledore hat is saved in his pensive. He told them how there was someone else—Neville—and why Voldemort had chose him instead. Harry told his friends why he had to go to the Dursley's each summer. He repeated everything Dumbledore had told him the morning after Sirius…

It was hard, and Harry wished for there to be some kind of distraction to save him from the silence that followed his explanation. It came.

"Kill him—quick," said Draco. "I'll teach you the unforgetables. My father taught me. We just need some house elves-"

"YOU WILL NOT PRACTICE ON HOUSE ELVES!" Hermione screeched. "YOU WILL NOT!" She was standing now. "DUMBLEDORE WILL MAKE SURE HARRY LEARNS WHAT HE SHOULD AND HE WILL NOT PRACTICE ON HOUSE ELVES!"

Draco was stunned. He did not know about Hermione's S.P.E.W. yet.

"Ha-ha," laughed Ron. "You got the wrath of Hermione and spew."

"You did not just say that Ron," said Hermione, turning on her boyfriend.

"No I didn't," Ron covered his mouth with his hand.

Harry had got the distraction he wished for. He suddenly felt extremely tired.

"I'm going to bed," he announced.

"What?!" shrieked Ginny. "It's only 6:00!"

"Oh well, I don't care," said Ron. "I'm going to bed too. What about you Draco?"

"Sure, why not?" There was little point in staying up.

"See ya," said George. POP. The twins were gone.

"We can talk more about this later. Good night," said Hermione. She kissed Ron. "Are you going to bed Ginny?"

"Not now. It's too early!" she couldn't believe they all wanted to sleep.

"Well I am," said Hermione.

"What?!" You lot are boring," Ginny stomped out of the room.