A/N: Alright, I know that the direction this story seems to be going is extremely like most other H/D stories. Trust me, it's not. I'm going to try to fill in the gaps with every other chapter. I make no promises; but- for the most part- every other chapter will be a flashback. It might seem a bit odd, but it will make sense later. If it doesn't already…

Disclaimer: You know the drill. So, say it with me. I don't own HP or anything else. I don't get money. Blah, blah, blah. If I left anything out, just have it on record that it is implied.

Chapter 2

Ding-dong!

"What the bloody hell? Who would be calling at this hour! Petunia, are you expecting anyone?" It was ten-thirty at night and the Dursleys had just settled into the livingroom to watch a late-night movie on television. Aunt Petunia shook her head and sent Dudley a questioning look.

"Not me, mum. I told all my mates to stay away tonight. Told em I wanted to spend time with my family." This was, of course, a lie. However, Dudley knew that, even if it were one of his friends, he wouldn't get in trouble. He'd just pretend to be angry with them for a bit and that would be it. No questions asked. Besides, maybe if he sucked up enough, his mum and dad would buy him the new video game he wanted.

"Why don't you go see who it is, Diddums," Aunt Petunia said, giving her son a look of pure joy as she bought whole-heartedly into the lie he had just told her.

"Make Harry get it."

"HARRY," Uncle Vernon bellowed. "Get the door, boy!" Harry, who had been in his room writing a letter to Ron (with whom he would be staying in just two days' time) to make sure of plans for transportation, walked slowly down the stairs and to the door.

Who could it be? None of my friends should be arriving for two more days.

Harry opened the door, perfectly ready to slam it if the caller turned out to be some insomniac door-to-door salesman or something. And when he saw who it was, he had half a mind to do just that, even though it was no salesman. "Malfoy! What're you doing here? How the HELL did you find out where I live!" Thinking quickly, he held up a hand motioning for silence. He held up one finger to indicate that Malfoy wait there and closed the door softly. Still thinking furiously, he walked into the livingroom. "It's Mrs. Figg from down the street. She says that one of her cats got stuck in the chimney and she wants me to help get it out. I should be back shortly."

Uncle Vernon barely glanced at Harry and said, "Just don't wake us when you get back, boy. And we still expect breakfast in the morning."

Thankful that his aunt, uncle, and cousin were oblivious to anything involving himself, Harry walked back to his bedroom to pull on his trainers and a light jacket. He took his wand from his bedside table with only the slightest hesitation. He didn't know what kind of games Malfoy was up to, and he didn't want to go in unprepared. He made it back downstairs and to the door quickly. He opened the door halfway hoping that Malfoy being there was just his imagination. Sadly, though, it was not. Giving a resigned sigh, Harry beckoned for Malfoy to follow him.

They walked down the street in silence. In fact, neither of them said a word until they reached the park. There, Harry sat down on one of the swings, faced Malfoy directly, pulled out his wand, and said, "Ok. Now tell me why I shouldn't hex you to hell and back. And you still haven't answered my other two questions: What are you doing here, and how did you find out where I live?"

"Which do you want me to answer first? Or would you prefer to hear my complete story and then decide whether or not you want to hex me?" When Harry said nothing, Draco continued. "Very well, my choice. I am here, Potter," he said with as much contempt as he could muster, "because I seem to have nowhere else to go. I found out where you live by watching your owl for a few days."

"You've been keeping tabs on Hedwig? Why?"

"Because, like I said, I have nowhere else to go. At the-- at the funeral, I decided that the ends did not justify the means. I do not want to fight for You-Know-Who. I told my mother and she, sobbingly, told me to get out. I shrunk all of my belongings and packed them into my school bag. I then shrunk my school bag and it is all here in my pocket. All of my friends are supporting the Dark Lord and will kill me if I show my face near their houses. Therefore, when I thought of a safe place to go where they wouldn't find me, my immediate thought was you. Everyone at school knows that we hate eachother. Or, at least, they know that you hate me, so… Nevermind! The point is that they would never look for me here. So, the plan is brilliant. That is, of course, saying that you'll let me stay…" He added the last but with a sheepish grin and a small, almost imperceptible, shuffle of his feet.

Harry thought for a moment, his thoughts waging an epic battle in his head. He was leaving in two days' time to go live at the Burrow. So, Malfoy's presence wouldn't even be noticed by the Dursleys as long as he stayed in Harry's room. But what would Harry do with him then? Surely the Weasleys wouldn't want Malfoy, of all people, staying in their house? But wait! What was he thinking? Malfoy! The boy he had hated since he was eleven years old? The young man that he knew (or thought he knew, anyway) would hex him with no second thought? Why was he even considering letting that vile bastard stay with him? Because, whispered a tiny voice in his head, you don't hate him. In fact, you want him to stay with you. When you opened that door tonight, you thought you were dreaming. You thought that your favorite fantasy was about to come true. How many times have you thought about him over the past few years? How many times have you hoped and prayed that he would look at you with anything other than hatred in his eyes? Face it. You want him to stay. You want him to share your room. Possibly even your bed. You want to snog him and hold him and—

SHUT UP, another part of his mind yelled. SHUT UP! He doesn't feel that way, so there's no point in dwelling over it.

He doesn't? So, what was that little bit in his speech about how everyone knows that you hate him? He specified that. And he changed the subject pretty quick after that, too, didn't he? When are you going to see the truth?

I am! Besides, even if he did have feelings for me- which I doubt- nothing could happen. He is going to be staying with me for a while and that would just make things awkward.

So you've decided that he's staying, then?

Harry sighed and looked up at Malfoy who, oblivious to the battle inside Harry's brain, was waiting patiently for Harry to decide whether or not he could stay. "You can stay," he said, "on one condition. Wait, make that two. First, the Dursleys must not know that you are here. You are not to leave my bedroom unless I tell you that the coast is clear. Second, I am moving out and going to live with the Weasleys in two days' time. I cannot leave you here with the Muggles, so you will have to go with me. I want you to promise that as soon as we get there, you will allow them to give you some Veritaserum just to be sure you are telling the truth. I'm sorry, but I just find it more than a little bit difficult to trust you."

As he finished, he tightened his grip on the wand in his lap. He fully expected Malfoy to start cursing him into oblivion. He was completely shocked, therefore, when Malfoy's shoulders slumped and he heaved a huge sigh of relief. His whispered "thank you," was barely heard as he collapsed into the swing next to Harry, looking very much like a man of twice his years.