A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or anything that you recognize from the Harry Potter World. The plot idea was borrowed from a friend (Queen Joker); I am using this with her permission. I hope you like it; it might be two or three chapters long. Read and Review (it's an author's best friend.)

A/N 2: For those of you who were wondering what the thing was between this fic and "The Patriot" was that in chapter 2, I mentioned a part that involved Colonel William Tavington. The actor that plays Lucius Malfoy in the Harry Potter movies also plays Colonel William Tavington in "The Patriot". The actors name is Jason Issacs (who is very good looking by the way. Go ahead and drool Sky Lark…).

Recap: A surprised gasp was all it took to bring Draco out of his daze, and when he looked at the intruder, his gaze was met with a pair of wide bright green eyes.

Draco got off the swing from which he had been lightly rocking back and forth on.

"Hi," he said to the other boy, a smile coming upon his face.

The other boy continued to stare at Draco, not moving. When Draco took a step towards him, the other boy would cautiously take a step back.

Without warning, the raven-haired boy turned and started to run for the house.

"No, wait! Please don't go!" Draco called after the boy, who then stopped in his tracks and turned to face Draco again.

"Y-you don't want me to leave?" The boy said in a nervous tone.

"No, I don't," Draco said, grinning from ear to ear at the prospect of having someone to play with now. "Do you want to swing?"

Draco felt rude asking someone to play on their own swing set.

The boy nodded and Draco waited until he sat down before he retook his place on the swing.

"I'm Draco," he said, mentally slapping himself for not introducing himself earlier.

"I'm Harry" the boy said quietly, swinging ever so slightly.

There was an unnatural silence after that that made Draco nervous. He had always hated silences.

Harry had begun to swing harder on the swing, and Draco got an idea.

"I'll be you I can swing higher," Draco said picking up his speed.

Pretty soon, the two boys were swinging and laughing together, one trying to be better than the other.

A half-hour had passed, and things had begun to get darker. The boys had decided to play tag a while ago and were running around the yard. The neighbors could be heard yelling at the kids to be quiet, yet they themselves were having a pool party and making noise also.

Dark gray clouds began to roll over the blue blanket of the Earth that was the sky. The neighbors all gave out loud yells as the skies opened up and they all ran to get the food inside before it got ruined. While the neighbors made their mad scramble for the door on the other side of the privacy fence, the two boys continued to run around, slipping and sliding on the mud.

"Draco, we are planning to leave soon," he heard his mother say from the doorway. He turned to look at her as he rounded the corner of the swing set, to let her know that he had heard what she said, but failed to noticed the puddle of mud that had formed in the pouring rain.

His momentum, plus the sudden change of his body position had caused Draco to place his foot in the puddle the wrong way and upset his balance. His foot pushed backwards, sliding in the water laden mud, causing him to fall forward. The middle of his forehead came sharply down on the edge of the swing set's frame. Draco rolled over and held his forehead. The pain was so immense that tears began to run down his face, though the sheets of rain washed them straight away.

"Draco!" His mother's voice cut through the pounding in his ears, making his head throb. "Lucius, come quick!"

Draco opened his eyes ever-so-slightly and looked over and saw Harry, standing there wide-eyed and he looked paler than a ghost.

He felt a hand take his own off of his forehead and his mother's worried voice was talking to him. The harder he tried to figure out what she was saying to him, the more he felt as if he'd be sick.

Draco gave up on trying to think, and let things just fall into place. He heard his father's footsteps squelching through the mud. How angry he would be later when he realized that he has just ruined his best dress shoes. An arm encircled his shoulders and one went under he knees picking him up. His head came to rest on the rich Italian silk of his father's clothes that he had come to know so well.

At once the voices around him all made sense. Mrs. Dursley was telling his parents that she would call a hospital. His father was telling her not to worry about it, and that he would take Draco home and take care of it.

Draco heard heavy footsteps pass them as Mr. Dursley made his way outside. He could faintly hear Mr. Dursley yelling and Harry's protests in between yells. He tried to life his head off of his father's shoulder, but with no prevail.

"Shh, Draco, just rest yourself," his father's voice could be heard softly above him.

"But-Harry…" Draco moaned, bringing his hand up to rest on his father's shoulder. He half opened his eyes, looking wearily into his father's gray eyes.

With a brief glance down the hallway, Draco saw a dripping wet Harry being drug through the door. Mr. Dursley's hand was tangled in Harry's thick hair and was using this to steer Harry into what Draco thought was a closet.

"Oh, Lucius, please just let me call an ambulance for Draco," Mrs. Dursley said, obviously trying her hardest to get him to oblige.

"No, I'd prefer to get someone I personally know to look at him," Lucius said, pushing the matter aside. "Come, Narcissa."

"We thank you for having us," Narcissa said, then trailed off after her husband.

"Get back here, boy!" Mr. Dursley's voice yelled. A vase smashed against the floor when someone ran by, and his father took a step backwards, drawing Draco's small body closer to his own.

"D-dad," Draco said, watching a trail of blood run down the curve of his nose.

"Yes, Draco?"

"I feel sick," Draco said, trying to bury his face further into his father's shoulder.

"We'll be home soon, son," Lucius said. Panic was beginning to etch its way into his father's voice. "Cissa, take Draco home and call Healer Fulton as quickly as you can, please?" Lucius said in hushed tones.

"When will you be home?" Narcissa asked, taking Draco from Lucius' arms.

"As soon as I can, now go," Lucius said, kissing her on the forehead and guiding her towards the door.

Draco heard the almost nonexistent noise of the door opening and closing on its well oiled hinges. He felt the short bounces as his mother walked down the steps to get off the patio. Once they left the protection of the patio ceiling, the rain drenched them within moments.

"Honey, I know this is going to hurt you right now, but I want to apparate you home, okay?" Narcissa asked her only son.

All Draco could do was nod. The feeling of nausea was taking over and he felt as if he'd empty his stomach at any moment. Talking to his mother wasn't worth that risk. After giving his mother that small gesture he felt the familiar constriction of Side-Along Apparition, which his parents had used many times with him when they went to Diagon Alley.

When he felt the pressure relieve, his head hurt more than it did, but he could feel the familiar atmosphere of the manor. His mother carried him to the nearest room with a couch, the study he had sat in previously. There he was laid on the couch and his mother grabbed several tissues from the box on the end table.

"Here, Draco, hold these on your head. I'm going right over to the fire to get the Healer." She handed him the tissues and he put them on the gash on his forehead.

A few moments of whispered discussions through the fire and Healer Fulton was standing on the hearth of the study. With a few long strides he was kneeling next to the couch on which Draco lay.

"Well, Master Draco, what have we done?" He said removing Draco's hand from his forehead. "Well, that is a nice gash you have there," he said running his index finger over it lightly trying to assess how deep it actually was. "It doesn't appear to be deep enough to do any real damage," he said and with a wave of his wand the mark disappeared, but the pain didn't.

"Now, Narcissa, he will still be in a small amount of pain, and will most likely have a headache for several hours to a day, but after that he should be fine. He should take this in about twenty minutes. The potion will put him to sleep for about 10 hours or so, it's just to help him rest. If something doesn't seem right to you, please don't hesitate to call me." He said nodding to Narcissa slightly.

"Thank you for coming, Healer Fulton," Narcissa said smiling, the phial grasped in her hand.

"Anytime you need me, Narcissa. Draco, I hope you feel better," he said looking at the small boy on the couch, who gave a small wave in acknowledgment. With one last brief smile, Healer Fulton walked back into the fireplace and disappeared into the bright green flames.

"How are you feeling?" Narcissa said, sitting on the edge of the couch, stroking Draco's sleek blonde hair.

"My head still hurts," he replied, not bothering to open his eyes.

"It will. Do you want to go upstairs and get cleaned up? You're covered in mud and blood, and you're soaking wet," she said running her hand along the sleeve of his shirt.

Draco nodded and tried to sit up, but a blinding pain shot through his head. That plan wasn't going to work.

"No, Draco, be still. I will carry you up," Narcissa said and picked him up. It was a short walk up stairs and when they stopped, Draco found himself in his bathroom. His mother set him down on the edge of the tub and started to wash his exposed skin with a warm washcloth. After setting the soiled washcloth down beside Draco she walked back into his room to get him a pair of pajamas. Granted, the clock said the time was only ten in the morning, but the Healer said that he needed rest.

"Here, dear, get dressed then we can put you in bed," Narcissa said and turned to face the wall to give Draco his privacy. Draco got dressed rather slowly because of his throbbing head, but soon enough he was standing next to his mother, leaning against her side.

"To bed with you," she said smiling, walking with him over to his bed. There he climbed up and slid underneath the emerald green bedspread, his head resting on the downy pillow. His mother sat down next to him. Draco closed his eyes, wishing to fall asleep but knowing that twenty minutes hadn't passed yet, so taking the potion was out of the question.

"Narcissa, would you be up here?" Draco heard his father's voice from the stairwell.

"Yes, we're in Draco's room," Narcissa said back to him.

He heard his father walk in and felt him sit down next to his mother on the bed.

"Is he okay?" Lucius said, taking Draco's hand.

"The Healer said that he would be fine, he just needs to rest."

"Well from the looks of it, he has already started that."

"Yes, well he was supposed to take this potion before he went to sleep. It's to help him sleep. I don't want to wake him up to make him take it though." Narcissa let out a long, well deserved sigh. "How was your 'expedition' at the Dursley's?" Narcissa asked, curious as to what happened.

"I would rather not go into details with it, but I can tell you that at the end of it, I felt so bad that I wiped everyone's memory of us ever being there."

A gasp passed Narcissa's lips. "It was that bad?"

Draco heard a barely audible "Yes," come from his father before he truthfully fell into a peaceful sleep.

Four years later, Draco found himself standing in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. He was standing in the back room waiting for Madam Malkin to return when she ushered another boy in. The boy seemed so familiar to Draco, but he just couldn't quite place it. The raven-haired boy and himself started talking back and forth, and at once it struck Draco just who this boy was. Harry.

This boy was the same boy that he had been playing with that one fateful day in the summer. While they were playing tag, it had begun pouring and Draco slipped and split his head open. He had never seen anything of any of the Dursley's after that point, and his father would not go into details of why he had to erase their memories, but rather got angry because Draco knew about it.

A few short weeks later, Draco met up with Harry at Hogwarts while waiting for Professor McGonagall to return. When Harry denied his friendship, it drove Draco into an extremely deep pit of despair. This was the reason that Draco had despised Harry and everything that he has done, or ever will do. The fact that they had been such good friends when they were seven, then because of Harry's uncle it all went wrong, and continued to be chaotic to this very day made Draco want to hit someone.

END FLASHBACK(S)

"No, particular reason, Harry."

A/N: I need to know from you guys, should I keep this going or should I stop it here? If you want me to keep it going, try throwing out ideas of what you would like to happen.