DISCLAIMER: Anything you recognize from reading JK Rowling's wonderful stories is hers (and also property of all the other corporations that own a chunk of the Harry Potter money making machine). I'm just borrowing it to terrorize Draco and Harry, because I really enjoy doing that. I am making no money from this. All other stuff you see that isn't HP cannon is from my own twisted little mind that has been filled with thousands of other HP fan fics that inspired me! Thanks you lot! Also, mucho thank yous to my Beta, Krys!

::sighs:: I seem destined to write shorties. Oh well, I'll try to keep them frequent then.

Harry groggily awoke and automatically groped for his glasses at his bedside. He immediately regretted the movement as his head pounded and a moan of pain escaped his lips.

"Are you awake?" a soft lyrical voice asked him.

Harry stiffened at the unfamiliar voice and a thought flashed though his mind, 'I don't think we are in Surry anymore, Toto.'

His Aunt Petunia's voice never sounded so sweet. 'Actually,' Harry thought between the painful thudding of his head, 'my Aunt sounds like a strangled cat in heat when she tries to sound sweet. Crap, why can't normal stuff ever happen to me?'

Harry Potter was more than certain that he wasn't with his family because they really did not like him. The Dursleys', whom he spent his summers with, did not like anything (or anyone) they considered not normal, and Harry Potter was as far from normal as most people ever dream of. Harry was a wizard, and not a normal wizard at that. Harry was known throughout the wizarding world as The Boy Who Lived. Indeed, quite a silly name. In fact, if Harry ever found the reporter that dubbed him with the misnomer he planned to hex them so hard their great grandchildren would feel it, but right now, that was neither here nor there. Harry was known by such a silly name because he had done just that, lived when stuck by a killing curse thrown by the day's current Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort. Most found this dark wizard so scary they would not even utter his name, thus he was called He Who Must Not Be Named. Harry, being ever so not normal, had lived though being hit by the evil creature's killing curse, at the age of one, causing it to rebound and destroy the body of He Who Also Has A Silly Name. Needless to say this was most unusual.

The Dursleys', as we have established, did not like him because of his freak… er.. his being unusual. This, of course, lead up the question of, 'Where in the name of Merlin am I?"

Again the lyrical voice spoke, "Oh dear, I think Eric might have been a bit too rough in his effort for speed. Are you awake? Do you need a healer?"

'A healer?' Thought Harry. 'A very un-muggle thing to say, also something I doubt a Death Eater would offer.' Harry mussed about the followers of Voldemort, then he grimaced at the thought of falling into the clutches of a Pomfrey clone, and made the effort to answer. "I'm awake, and no healers please." Harry opened his eyes and slowly sat up on the couch where he was laying. He looked to where the voice had come from. He squinted and tried to focus on the figure that made its way towards him.

"I think you must need these." The voice said and his glasses were carefully placed on his face. He blinked and the image of a pretty young girl about his age came into focus. She looked fragile, as if a puff of wind would blow her away. She was graced with white blond hair that fell in a long plait down her back. Lush black lashes framed her silver gray eyes, and Harry tried to remember where he had seen such eyes before. He dismissed the thought to move on to more important matters.

"Umm… excuse me Miss, but where am I?"

"You are currently at the castle of King James of Kowpens." She promptly answered him and flashed him a charming smile.

'Ok, that certainly was a lot of help.' Harry thought sarcastically, as he tried to remember his geography. Giving up he probed further.

"And just where is Kowpens?" he asked as he rubbed his temples.

The charming smile turned into an impish grin as the girl answered, "Traditionally we answer that question as 'Neither here nor there, but where you look if you should see.' "

His temples started to throb at this answer, and absently he wondered if he could get a headache potion without running the healer gauntlet. Then he said in a pained voice, "Oh well, that just cleared up all my questions."

The girl smirked then elaborated, "Kowpens is one of the few wizarding kingdoms that still exist. Most wizards and witches live in countries that are predominately muggle, and hide among them. Here witches and wizards out number muggles, and the only government is the long established wizarding monarchy."

"That still doesn't explain what you said, or why I am here for that matter," Harry pointed out.

The girl gave him a chastising look for interrupting her, and then continued as if he had not spoken. "Well of course, you realize that being a magic kingdom we long ago sought to hide ourselves from the muggles of the world. Most of the magic kingdoms fell long ago because they were not able to. We, Kowpokes, still exist because my ancestors cleverly invented a spell that hid us very well." she bragged.

"Hid? How?" Harry asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Well, I'm not allowed to tell you the particulars of how the spell works, but the result is that the borders of our country change"

"Change?" he asked, interested in spite of himself, but confused.

"Well, one day you cross the boarder and come out in France, another day you could end up in Russia, still another England, and so on."

Harry blinked in amazement. Even after living in the wizarding world for years, it still astonished him at times how things worked.

"How do you come out where you want to then?" he asked.

She winked at him with a smile, "State secret."

Harry grinned back at her starting to feel at ease; his headache was even easing off. It was obvious to him that while he was kidnapped, and no doubt the Order was having a litter of kittens while looking for him, these people were not with Voldemort and didn't seem to mean him harm, but this really did beg the question of why he was here. With a glint of mischief in his eyes, he decided to get a few answers starting with his hostess's name. He took the girl's hand and kissed the back of it as he copied the words and gestures of an actor he had seen when his Aunt was watching the telly.

"Greetings, fair one. My name is Harry Potter, and what name are you graced with?"

"Oh!" a light blush stained the girl's cheeks, "How utterly silly of me. My name is Clair. Clair Malfoy."

Harry thought, 'Oh I am in so much trouble…'

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