Description: Post OOP, AU. Greatly injured, Harry runs away from the Dursleys. Free from his father, Draco has decided that he's not dark or light, but a nice gray. What happens when Draco and Harry reach an understanding? How will Ron and Hermione, now dating, take it? Not Slash.
Disclaimer: Everything that appears in one of JK Rowling's books is copyright her. Everything that appears in any of the movies is copyright Warner Bros. Anything that isn't in them is mine. If someone wants to use something in their fan fic, it's fine by me, just give a little credit in the disclaimer, eh?
Chapter Two: A Proposal
When Harry awoke, the first thing he noticed was that he was in a warm, soft, comfortable bed. When he reached for his glasses, he realized something else – he didn't hurt. Startled, he stopped putting on his glasses, and instead slowly stretched his body. For the first time in weeks, nothing hurt him.
Maybe the Order finally came and got me, he thought to himself happily as he finally put his glasses on. Now able to see, he could look around this room.
The first thing he noticed was he was laying in a king size four poster bed with crimson hangings. The mattress was soft – softer even than the mattresses at Hogwarts. The comforter was a darker shade of crimson with gold thread workings in it. His multitude of pillows (he was surprised to see six of them on his bed, which was a first. He only had one flat one at the Dursley's, and at Hogwarts he had two) matched the blanket, two were done in gold silk, two in crimson silk, and the remaining two pillows had a design in crimson and gold that matched the comforter. Looking down, he was no longer wearing the dirty cast offs from the Dursley's, instead he was in a pair of comfortable black silk pajama bottoms. When he opened the curtains, his eyes widened.
The room itself was spectacular. The walls were a light gold-ish cream color, while the plush carpeting was a dark crimson that matched his bed. To one side was an armoire, sort of like the one he had at Hogwarts, except the wood was better quality and there were intricate carvings all over it. On either side of the bed was a night stand, with the coloring, wood, and carvings to match the armoire. At the foot of his bed was his trunk, and on the other side of the room was a large desk, with bookshelves on either side. One set of shelves, he saw, had all of his books on it, and left room for more books. The other shelf was neatly filled with other books. Harry was tempted to look at them, but was instead drawn to the fireplace. Above the fireplace was a portrait with a blank canvas in it. Under the portrait was a katana in a crimson sheath with phoenixes wrought in gold on it.
Harry turned back to the bed, and noticed for the first time a pair of black slippers and a black robe with gold embroidery that matched his pants. He put them on, and then looked appraisingly at the two doors that led out of the room. The first one, he noticed, led to a bathroom. He realized he was clean somehow, and shrugging it off to magic decided to explore the bathroom later. He walked through the other door to see a sitting room that looked like a mini version of the Gryffindor Common Room. Squashy arm chairs sat in a circle around the fireplace, with a couch on the other side. Like the bedroom, the entire room was done in crimson and gold.
"Master Potter?"
Harry spun around to see a house elf standing behind him.
"Erm…yes?" Harry asked, confused.
"Master Potter, I is Dusti. I is to be taking care of you. How is Master Potter feeling?" the house elf asked, making a curtsy.
"Great, actually. Better than I've felt in weeks," Harry answered truthfully.
"Dusti is glad sir. Dusti is instructed to make sure Master Potter eats. Is Shepard's Pie acceptable to Master Potter?" Dusti asked.
"Shepard's pie is fine, and you can call me Harry. Erm, Dusti, where am I?" Harry asked.
Dusti snapped her fingers and a table for two appeared.
"Dusti will inform Mistress that you are awake. Mistress wants to dine with Master Potter. Dusti will be back shortly."
"Wait! You didn't –" Harry was cut off by the loud popping noise of Dusti disappearing. Harry sighed and shook his head, he still didn't know where he was. Looking back through the open door, he saw his wand sitting on his nightstand. He went back to his bedroom and picked it up. Upon touching it, he immediately felt better and safer. At least with his wand, he could defend himself. He walked back into the sitting room and was just wondering if he should continue exploring or wait when one of the three doors opened, and in glided one of the last people he had expected to see.
"Mister Potter. So nice to see that you're well."
Narcissa Malfoy, clad regally in a floor length dark blue dress was facing Harry Potter. The dress was sleeveless, and despite the clearly expensive cut and fabric, it gave off an air of being a casual outfit. Harry immediately raised his wand and pointed it at her.
"Where am I? Why are you here?" he demanded.
"There there, Mister Potter. Is that a way to treat someone who has taken care of you for the past week?" Narcissa asked mildly. Harry's wand tip dropped for a second before he shook his head and pointed it steadily at her again.
"But you're all Death Eaters," he said. "Voldemort is trying to kill me, why would you help me?"
"You're mistaken, Mister Potter," Narcissa replied coolly. "My husband, well, now that he's a criminal, ex husband, was a death eater. However, since you conveniently put him in prison, Draco and I are now free to not follow the Dark Lord. May we talk, Mister Potter, as we eat? I'm sure you must be famished. Look, I'll give you my wand so you're armed and I'm not. Would that make you feel any better?" Narcissa tapped her wand on her left arm and clearly cast Finite Incantium before passing her wand to Harry.
"Look, I just cast a spell that would dispel any glamours on my arm. I am not a death eater. There is no mark."
Harry nodded and put her wand on the floor next to him. His wand he slipped into his robe pocket as the food appeared, and Narcissa motioned for him to eat. Despite Moody's words "Constant Vigilance" going through his head, he was indeed starved, and began to eat anyways.
"What is it you would like to talk about?" Harry asked.
"A trade of services, if you will," Narcissa replied. "Give us the chance to prove that the Malfoy name is better than Lucius has made it out to be. Let us show that the Malfoys are a noble house and a noble family, and allow us the chance to help fix the damage that Lucius did. In return, we offer you room and board befitting one of your status, along with training in management and book keeping, along with anything else you would like. Consider our healing you a gesture of good will."
"Why not go to Dumbledore?" asked Harry, who was caught off guard but still suspicious.
"We do not trust Dumbledore," Narcissa replied firmly. "Dumbledore, while his goal is different than the Dark Lord's, is just as bad. He is manipulative, treating this war like a chess game, prodding pieces where he wants them to go, and sometimes forcefully moving them if necessary. We do not wish to simply become a pawn for the other side. And we also wish to help you escape Dumbledore's clutches as well."
"He just does it because he knows what's best," Harry replied automatically, without thinking. But as he said it, there was a different, more contemplative look on his face. He thought about a lot of things. Like Dumbledore keeping Sirius locked up, even while it was driving the man crazy. And Dumbledore sending him to the Dursley's time and time again, despite the abuse he received while he was there. Dumbledore never telling him much about his parents, Dumbledore not giving him information last year he should have had, Dumbledore forcing him to take more occlumency lessons with Snape despite the hatred the headmaster KNEW Snape had towards him. All of this and more ran through his head, as a small voice that had been whispering in his head since last year began to speak up again.
"I need proof," Harry said, dazed. "Proof I can trust you, proof that Dumbledore is harming me…"
"All I can give you now for proof you can trust me is that I could have killed you at any point in the past week, if we were death eaters, we could have handed you to the Dark Lord, but we didn't. As for proof of your harm, what if we went on a trip to Gringotts, and had the Goblins there discuss your financials with you? Do you even know how much you have?"
"I've seen my vault," Harry said, trailing off.
"What do you think of this? After you dine, you can get dressed, and you, myself, and Draco will go to Gringotts so you can speak with the goblins there. A neutral party which should, if my suspicions are correct, prove my point."
"Draco…" Just the word showed a dripping hatred from Harry's mouth.
Narcissa sighed.
"Funny, Draco had the same reaction to you. You could learn a lot from each other, you know. Perhaps you need to come to an understanding."
The table disappeared as soon as Harry finished eating, and as Narcissa rose, her chair disappeared as well. She snapped her fingers and Harry immediately rose, the chair he was just sitting on vanishing. Narcissa didn't seem to be snapping at him though.
"Dusti!" she called. The house elf immediately appeared in front of them.
"What does Mistress require of Dusti?" she asked.
"Dusti, please summon Draco and tell him to come into Mister Potter's room," Narcissa ordered.
"Yes Mistress." With another pop, Dusti disappeared, and a minute later Harry's door opened to reveal the one face he hated more that almost anyone.
Draco Malfoy.
The boy's pale face was twisted in a sneer, his hair neatly cut and his gray eyes flashing.
"Dusti!" Narcissa called again. Once again, the house elf appeared.
"Yes Mistress?" She asked with a curtsy.
"Dusti, please retrieve the pensive I left on my sitting room table," Narcissa said. Two pops later, the elf popped back, holding it.
"Mother, I think I have more important things to do than play nurse to Potter here," Draco said with a disgusted tone of voice.
"Whoever asked you to?" Harry retorted. "It's not like I need it."
"Only thanks to my Mum, Potty, and you shouldn't forget that. Or is the way REAL wizards live foreign to you? After all, your best friends are a weasel and a mud-blood."
Harry's wand was out and pointed at Malfoy's face.
"TAKE THAT BACK MALFOY!" he roared. Malfoy's wand was out and pointed at Harry.
"Or what?" he sneered. "You think you can beat me without your mud blood friend and your Weasel backing you up?"
"Damn you Malfoy! STU-"
"ENOUGH!" Both boys looked over at Narcissa, who gave them both a glare that was so fierce they lowered their wands without even thinking about it.
"As of this second, you two are living in the same house! Even if it's only for a week while I make sure Harry is better, you will be across the hall from each other! Now, I am leaving the room, and you two had better come to an understanding by the time I get back! Harry, my wand."
Wide eyed, Harry picked her wand up from the floor next to him and handed it to her wordlessly.
"Thank you. Now you two be nice." The glare she gave both boys with those words clearly added the term 'or else' to the end of the sentence as she swooped out the door.
"I don't need this," Malfoy spat. He tried to walk out the door, only to find it locked. And nothing he did could unlock it. Harry even tried to get it to unlock with parseltounge. No luck. The boys eventually sat down across from each other silently. After about a half hour of ignoring each other, Harry finally gave in and broke the silence.
"Your mum has a glare worthy of McGonagall or Snape you know," he said quietly.
"Those two will only dock points and give detentions though," Malfoy reluctantly replied. "There's no telling what my mother would do to us."
"True for McGonagall. Not for Snape in my case. If it was up to him, he would've Crucio'ed me about five or six times over by now," Harry muttered.
"Snape would never! The only reason he doesn't like you is because you act like you're above the rules, and because someone needs to teach you humility! You're Dumbledore's favorite," Draco snapped.
"Some favoritism he shows," Harry grumbled, but Draco didn't stop.
"You're the Golden Boy of Gryffindor, everyone loves you. So he has to be like that to you," Draco concluded.
"Is that what you think?"
Draco looked over at Harry, who was staring right into his eyes. For once there was no malice or hate in the gaze, it was different. Understanding? Sad? Draco didn't know what it was, but he refused to be the one to break the gaze.
"Yeah, Potter. It's what I think," Draco challenged. Harry's eyes flickered to the pensive sitting on the table.
"Alright then, you stuck up little pansy rich boy. Give me a minute with this pensive, and prepare to eat your words."
A/N: Alrighty. I'm trying to keep this down to five or six pages a chapter. I'll update as quickly as I can, I've got the first few chapters planned in my head at least, so it won't be too hard. After that, I'll be getting into the story itself, so I expect it'll just kinda…flow.
Anywho, feel free to review. It inspires me to write more.