1223 hits; 3 reviews. Once again, Cuthrin Khafre; thanks! 'Lizabeth, I appreciate it, and Myniephoenix, thank you. But at the risk of sounding like Oliver Twist; Please sirs/ma'ams, could I have some more?

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Hedwig arrived at the Burrow before him, perching on the rail leading up the front steps. It was nearly dark, the sun was just setting, as Harry landed in the Weasley's front yard. He chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully, staring up at the house, getting off his broom and nervously passing it from hand to hand. With a deep breath, he strode up onto the rapidly deteriorating porch and rapped on the door.

There was a clatter and a bang from indoors, and a small panel on the door slid to the side, and two eyes peered out at him. There was an audible gasp, and the door was ripped open, and before Harry could utter so much as a hello, he was wrapped up in the crushing embrace of Molly Weasley.

"Oh, Harry!"she exclaimed, kissing his forehead. "Where have you been? And dear lord, why are you covered in blood?"

He looked at her with a sheepish grin and shrugged. "I fell."

She released him and led him indoors. "Well, come in, come in! Everyone's eating dinner, there's so much to tell you."

She shut the door, locked it, and bustled into the dining room. After a moment, Harry followed. There was a silence, then a rush of noise as nearly everyone at the crowded dinner table jumped out of their seats.

"Harry!" the twins burst out in unison.

Ginny collapsed onto her plate and began to cry. Tonks stood up and gave him a short wave.

"Harry, you're back!" Arthur Weasley cried out, stepping forward and shaking his hand heartily.

However, anyone else's reactions were hidden by the sudden flash of bushy brown hair flying into his arms. Hermione jumped up, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder. He paused for a second, than encircled her waist with his arms. They stood there for several seconds, holding one another, before Harry spoke.

"You alright, 'Mione?" he asked softly, looking down at her.

She snuffled noisily, and when she raised her face to look at him, her cheeks were shining with tears. "Don't DO that, Harry! I nearly died for worrying about you!"

Ron appeared at his side, and patted his back. "Don't worry about it, mate, she's been like this ever since... You know, the thing happened. Actually... Everyone has been." he said, looking at his mother and Ginny curiously. Harry, in spite of all that had happened to him, was tempted to laugh.

Hermione extracted herself from him, and straightened herself out, wiping at her tears. "Well, Mr. Potter, you definitely have a lot of explaining to do." she said, doing her best impression of Professor McGonagall.

He was about to reply, when yet another bundle of bushy hair attached to a sobbing female was launched into his arms. He held Ginny awkwardly, patting her back. Ron snorted, glaring at the ceiling in disgust. Then, before he could ask if she was alright, she had jumped away from him and scurried back to her place at the table, staring at her food sulkily. He blinked at her, then looked back at Hermione. "Erm, yeah. I do. But first, where's Fleur and Bill?"

Ron coughed, looking at Hermione. Hermione cleared her throat and looked down for a moment. "Well.. Um, Harry, they're in the kitchen."

"Oh good." he said, turning to go greet them. "Wait!" Ron cried, pushing him back. "Not a good idea, Harry."

He furrowed his brow. "Why, they in a fight?" Ron shook his head.

"No. But... Draco Malfoy's in there with them."

Harry's entire body froze, and his blood began to boil. "What?" he hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"No, no, no! Don't get angry, Harry, calm down and let us explain." she said, pushing him into a chair quickly and pulling up another to sit behind him. She reached over and grabbed his hands, holding them in her own. "Draco came here a few weeks ago, seeking shelter. See, he was supposed to be the one to... Kill Dumbledore. But, he said when he was there, he couldn't do it. So Snape did it for him, even though You-Know-Who had told Draco to do it. Needless to say, he wasn't very pleased, and went to give Draco the Dark Mark... And he panicked and ran. And ended up coming here."

Harry's jaw twitched. "He never stopped Snape. He just stood there. And fled with him. He never did anything to stop him."

"Which is something I regret every day."

Harry snapped his head up, locking his gaze onto Draco. He was dressed in Ron's clothes, several sizes too large for him. His hair was longer and unkept, hanging past his ears. He was thinner, the hollows in his cheeks making his cheekbones seem higher, more aristocratic. There were dark circles under his haunted eyes, and he no longer held himself up like a prince. Now his shoulders were slouched, and his posture resembled that of a beaten dog.

Harry stared at him for a long moment before regaining the power to speak. "Malfoy," he said.

Draco nodded at him. "Harry."

They stared at one another for a bit longer, before Harry stood up, pulling his hands away from Hermione. He walked over to Draco, standing a foot away from him, examining him. He was two inches taller that him, a fact that he enjoyed.

"I should punch you in the face, right now." he said, his voice emotionless. Draco glanced over at Ron.

"That's what he did when I first showed up."

Ron gave a nervous giggle, and Harry looked over to see him scratching his head, grinning sheepishly at Molly, who was glowering at him. Harry nodded.

"I see." He stuck out his hand. "So. You ready to do away with this rivalry and join the good side?"

Draco looked down at his hand, then back up at Harry, and smiled slowly. "Yes." he murmured, before slipping his hand into Harry's.

Hermione came up behind Harry, and tugged on his arm. He released Draco's hand, and turned to her. She led him back to his seat. Arthur gave her a nod of thanks.

"Alright Harry. I hate to do this to you, but I figure we may as well get it over with. The ministry has a few questions they wanted me to ask you if I found you. Would you rather do it now, or wait until morning?"

Harry shook his head. "Now."

"Good boy, good boy. Okay, first off, this here is a 'tape player'," he said, dropping a recorder onto the table. "I'm going to erm, 'play back' the 'tape' for you. It's a muggle recording of your phone call to the police. I just need to know if it's accurate."

Harry nodded. After fumbling with the buttons, Arthur finally pressed 'play', and Harry's panicked voice filled the room.

"Oh my god, oh my god, I don't know what to do, he was here, and now he's gone, and now they're dead, they're all dead, I don't know what to do, oh god help me.."

The room was deathly silent as the tape played. Fleur and Bill had come out of the kitchen to listen, the tears flowing down Ginny's face were coming faster than ever. Ron's face was a tad green, and Hermione had her fingers shoved in her ears. Fred and George both had their eyes lowered, Molly was busying herself by cleaning, and Arthur was staring at Harry to gauge his reaction. The only person who didn't seem to be affected by it besides Harry, was Draco.

The tape ended, and Arthur put it away. "Harry?"

Harry didn't meet his eyes. "Yes?"

"Was that an accurate tape?" Harry nodded. "Why didn't you call the aurors?"

"I panicked."

"Understandable. Why did you leave before the police got there."

Harry shrugged, staring at his lap. "I didn't want to have to deal with it. I needed to be alone."

"Do you know what happened to your cousin, aunt and uncle?"

Harry shook his head. "I came home and aunt Petunia and Dudley were on the floor, covered in blood. I didn't know where uncle Vernan was though, so I just called the police."

He looked down at the table again. His brow furrowed, and he nearly snarled as he glanced down at the recorder. A little red light was blinking. Arthur was recording him.

With a growl, he stood up, stormed over to the device, picked it up, and chucked it out the open window into the garden. He glared down at Arthur. "You want to talk to me, you talk to me. You record me, I don't talk. I won't have another damn paper advertising every tragedy that happens to me, complete with a tape of my reactions."

Arthur nodded. "Of course, I apologize. I didn't mean to, I just can't work those things. Anyway, let's move on, shall we?"

Harry went back to his seat, ignoring the stares he was receiving at his outburst. "Did you read about what happened?" Harry shook his head. Arthur sighed. "Well, apparently He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced entry into your house, and knocked both your aunt and cousin unconscious. He waited until your uncle came home, tortured him, most likely for information about you and your whereabouts, and killed him. We're not exactly sure how, it wasn't the 'AK' curse, but it was something far more powerful."

Harry didn't answer, he couldn't. More powerful than the 'avada kedavra' curse. Maybe he did stand a chance.

"Where were you when all of this happened?"

Harry looked up, eyes unfocused. "What?"

"Where were you? When all of this took place?"

Harry shrugged. "Around. I was frustrated, so I took a walk."

Arthur stared at him. "Alone? Unprotected? With death eaters on the loose?"

He glared at him. "There are worse things than death eaters, you know."

Arthur studied him closely. "Harry, where did you get all those cuts on you?"

Harry's jaw worked. "Like I SAID. There are worse things than death eaters."

Molly walked over to Harry slowly and put a hand on his shoulder. "Harry, dear, he's only trying to help. Did those horrible people hurt you? Did they hit you?"

With a snarl rivaling a wild beast, Harry stood abruptly, his chair clattering to the floor. He clenched his teeth, seeing red. Working to keep his voice calm, but unable to suppress the tremor of rage coursing through it, he said "I'd like to go to bed now."

Molly pulled back her hand as if she had been burned. Clearing her throat, she nodded. "Ron, Hermione? Take him upstairs?"

They both stood up, and Ron led the way out of the room. Harry followed, Hermione trailing behind, her hand on his back comfortingly. Ron went up the stairs, then paused in the hallway.

"Erm, please don't get mad... But... We're really crowded and stuff... I've got Bill and Ginny in my room; Ginny's loaning her room to Hermione, Fleur and Tonks, Fred and George are in their room... We've got Draco in the attic, and there's room for one more.."

"I don't care, Ron." Harry spat. "I just want to be alone at the moment."

Ron nodded. "Alright. Well, it's right up there," he pointed up to the trap door on the ceiling, "Me and 'Mione are going back downstairs. There's an extra bed in there, and there's sheets and stuff in the closet."

Harry nodded, then glanced over at the bathroom to his left. "Bye." he said, and walked over into the bathroom and shut the door before either of them could respond. He heard hushed voices, them talking about him, most likely, then the stairs squeaking as they descended.

He sighed in relief, and walked over to the sink, staring at the mirror above it, wincing at his reflection. His hair was greasy and slimy looking, hanging in his eyes and curling at his collar. His gray shirt was stained with sweat and dirt. His green eyes, unmasked by glasses as he'd forgone them long ago, were clouded and haunted. His left cheek was swollen and bruised, his right cheek had bloody nail marks running down the side of his face. There was dried blood on his neck and chest from where the cut on his head had bled. There were deep circles under his eyes, and he looked nearly as dead as he felt.

With a short growl, he pulled his shirt over his head, and ripped off his jeans, ignoring the fabric rubbing up against his open wounds on his back, and the jeans irritating the belt marks on his rear. Unwilling to look at himself, he turned on the shower quickly and jumped in before he could flinch away from the menacing stream of scalding water.

Air hissing from between his teeth, he squeezed his eyes shut, well aware of his flesh screaming in protest. Blood drained off his body and pooled at his feet. He washed his body quickly and efficiently, and blasted the cold water, nearly knocking the wind out of him at its suddenness. Jumping out of the shower and toweling off, he pulled his trunk out of his pocket and enlarged it. Throwing his dirty clothes into it and pulling out a fresh outfit, he re-shrunk it and changed. He was well aware that his shirt had holes in several places, and his jeans were ripped in one knee, but it was the best he had.

Shaking his head to rid his hair of any remaining droplets of water, he left the bathroom, walked straight past Ginny who was staring up at him with terrified eyes, and grabbed the string attached to the trap door on the ceiling. Yanking it down and pulling the stepladder down fully, he climbed up, and pulled it up until it slammed into place.

He looked around. It was actually not that bad. Draco had apparently changed things around a bit, as all the Weasley's old junk was off to a corner, and there was a silky blue cloth in front of it to hide it from view. The floor was bare, the wood rotting in a few places, but not that noticeable. There was a four-poster bed in the left hand corner, with a blue coverlet on top of it, Draco's bed, presumably. In the right hand corner there was a ratty old bed with a moldy mattress, sagging in the middle. Once again thanking god for inventing magic, he quickly charmed it to be larger, softer, fuller and cleaner, topping it off with a maroon cover.

He unshrunk his trunk once again, and pushed it to the end of his bed. Finally able to relax, he lay down on his new bed, and stared up at the cobwebs on the ceiling.

No sooner had he laid down, the floor opened up and Draco emerged. He nodded at Harry, pulling up the stepladder and standing up. He moved over to his bed, pulling off his shirt and putting on a pajama top. He moved under his covers and wriggled around a bit, changing his pants. Once he was finished, he sat up, his steely blue eyes locked onto Harry.

"You really created quite the upset down there." He said, watching him carefully. Harry snorted, turning onto his stomach and closing his eyes. Figuring that he wasn't going to respond, he continued. "You've got a lot of legal stuff Mr. Weasley wants to run over with you in the morning."

Harry groaned. Not because of what he had to do in the morning, he just didn't want to talk to anyone, least of all Draco. "Like what."

Draco shrugged, looking down at the covers. "Just.. Where you're going to live... Everything you're inheriting... I don't know much about it."

Harry looked over at him and glared. "Good."

Draco sighed and lay down. "See you in the morning, then."

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REVIEWS, DAMNIT! Harry's feelings will start to change within the next chapter or so, then onto slashy, angsty goodness!