Title: My Play Thing

Summary: When someone else is making Harry's blood boil, Draco gets jealous. SLASH! Get it?

Disclaimer: These are not my toys; they are J.K. Rowling's. I am only borrowing them, and once I am done, I shall put them back on the shelf exactly how they were. OH CRAP! His head fell off…

Author's Note: Haha I got some reviews correcting me on that "epilogue" thing. Just a note to all you guys who caught that: Thanks, and after I posted it I realized that I made a mistake. It was 11 at night when I wrote that part.

Warning: SLASH! That's boy-boy love and if that is unappealing to you, leave. Now.

THANKS TO ALL WHO REVIEWED! Spencer, Tacy (Beautiful Willow), Tabbes, Anyanka, Leigh'sa (hermyandron4evr), Toby7, mrs. zina, Rachel, Gemini Fallen Angel, Brittany, NIAK, Paul

Harry entered the dingy house as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake anything up. When all three of them were inside, Moody went to the kitchen and Tonks turned to Harry.

"The Weasleys' should be here either late tonight or early tomorrow morning, so I suggest you head upstairs to where you stayed last time. Most of the Order has already left, to get Pettigrew, you know. Tomorrow morning there's an unofficial meeting with the Order, and you are invited to come." Tonks looked at Harry. He was staring moodily at the ground and was nodding to what she was saying. "If you need anything, let me know, okay?" She looked at him with sorrow in her eyes, and pulled him into a brief hug.

"I'm fine, thanks, just need some sleep," Harry mumbled as he pulled away from her.

Taking the steps two at a time, Harry rushed upstairs. None of his stuff was there, but that didn't matter to him. At least he was out of the Dursleys'.

Harry spent the remainder of the evening and most of the night lying on the bed in the guest room dozing off every so often. Whenever he found himself falling deeper into sleep, he shook himself awake and paced the room. He did not trust himself to sleep anymore.

During one of his later pacing sessions, Phineas Nigellus spoke up.

"What are you doing? It's nearly two in the morning. Can't you just go to sleep?" he asked irritably.

Harry whirled around, startled by the sound.

"Oh, you. I forgot you were here," Harry muttered.

"Yes, unfortunately, I am still here. The question is, why are you here? You don't live here," Phineas said bluntly.

Harry stopped pacing and glared at nothing in particular.

"I know."

Harry continued to pace around the room, ignoring the portrait's eyes following his movements.

"You never answered my question, you know," Phineas stated.

"What's that?" Harry inquired.

"I asked you why you couldn't just go to sleep," Phineas replied.

Harry glowered. He didn't feel the need to explain the guilt and frustration of knowing that whenever he fell asleep he could be putting someone else in danger. He didn't feel the need to explain the grief of losing his godfather to overreacting to a stupid dream that wasn't even real. He didn't feel the need to explain that every time he closed his eyes all he could see was Sirius falling gracefully into the depths of the veil.

"It's none of your business," Harry spat.

"Fine," Phineas left.

Sighing deeply, Harry pulled the door to the room open. The darkness of the hallway seemed to engulf his eyes, making them feel as if they were closing. The silence of the house pressed in on him. Harry gave an involuntary shudder and shuffled into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him.

As he stepped carefully down the stairs to the kitchen, dust clouds were coming up from the floor. The particles bugged his sinuses though, and Harry was holding back a sneeze. After three more steps, Harry couldn't hold it in anymore. He sneezed briefly, but quietly, gave a rather large and indignant sniff, and continued down the stairs.

When Harry reached the kitchen, the door was slightly ajar and light was pooling on the ground and wall from inside. Harry strained his ears and listened.

Soft voices could be heard, talking in low and urgent whispers. Harry tried to catch a few words, but couldn't. He went over to the opening of the door, to try and catch a glimpse of whoever was in there. However, someone saw him before he could see them.

"Harry! Come inside the kitchen, dear," Mrs. Weasley opened the door to let Harry in. He saw Ron, Fred and George sitting at the table.

Ron, whose mouth was occupied at the moment, chewing some sort of food, waved and nodded at Harry in greeting. Fred and George grunted their hellos, themselves being too busy in order forms for their joke shop.

"Come, sit down, sit down! Oh you poor boy, when was the last time you ate? Or slept? My goodness, you look awful, Harry…" Harry just shrugged and sat down as Mrs. Weasley fussed over getting a decent meal for him.

Ron finished chewing and swallowed whatever was in his mouth.

"Hey, Harry. Glad to get away from the Dursleys' early this year?" Ron grinned. He still had something stuck in his teeth. Harry pretended not to notice.

"Yeah. Real glad…" Harry answered, but he seemed distracted.

"What's wrong, mate? What did they do this time?" Ron started to look worried.

"What? Oh, nothing, they didn't do anything," Harry looked up from the food Mrs. Weasley had just placed in front of him. "Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked.

"Yes dear? Do you want something to drink?" she was bent over the sink, cutting up some carrots.

"Do we know what happened with Pettigrew, yet?"

Mrs. Weasley stopped slicing the carrots and turned to face him.

"Yes, we do."

"Well? Where was he? Where is he know? Did he say where Vol-" He was cut off by Mrs. Weasley's answer.

"He was in a small Muggle town in Egypt. Now we don't know where he is…" she trailed off.

"What do you mean 'we don't know where he is'?" Harry asked.

"He escaped before we got there."

Author's note: DUHN DUHN DUUUUUHN. Ok, don't expect the third chapter for a while. I'm leaving for camp on Monday and I wont be able to write or update for a week or two. Sorry.

I am still a review whore, so keep 'em coming!