I keep forgetting to put this down: mucho mucho thanks to ALL of you who read the story and reviewed it you give me the motivation to keep going, and I am eternally grateful for it. Thank you all!!! hugs XD

Chapter 6

Draco walked over to Zabini's bed and stared down at him. "I'm pretty sure he's the one who messed with my hair," he told Harry, "I think I'm going to give him blue and orange polka-dotted skin." He paused for a bit, "hm, that's not entirely enough. I'll add in rashes." He went to his trunk, rummaged around, and came back with a couple bottles of colored powder. Exchanging a smirk with Harry, he sprinkled a bit of each on Skinny. The powder shimmered a bit then vanished.

Harry stared at the sleeping boy intently, but Skinny seemed perfectly normal. "It didn't work?"

"Well, I don't know yet. It should though," Draco replied, "see, Fred realized a few years ago that Mum checks up on us early in the morning, so he and George designed their toys to activate only after the victim woke up." He grinned, "they also have this anti-deactivation potion that makes the rashes worse when people beside the prankster try to end the spell. That," he cackled, "would be this here powder." He held up a silver colored bottle.

Harry snickered.

"Now," Draco began, turning toward Crabbe and Goyle, whose beds were right next to each other, "what are you going to do to them?" Although his posture did not change, his eyes betrayed the excitement to finally see the Boy-Who-Lived in action.

At that, Harry slumped a little and dropped his gaze, embarrassed and hating his lack of knowledge. "I um... I haven't decided yet," he not-quite- lied.

Draco stared at him, confused, then suddenly understood. At first he glanced around awkwardly, knowing that Harry was retreating further and further into self-loathing because he had said the wrong thing. Then, he realized that he was a git for standing there like a piece of rock, letting Harry suffer needlessly. Piling the bottles under one arm, he grabbed Harry's wrist with his free hand, successfully snapping the boy out of his shame.

"Harry, I'm going to get you ready for the real world." Draco said seriously, staring into green eyes. "It is a dangerous place where nasty pranks run wild, and pranksters pick on innocents for the pure joy of seeing their faces twist into horror and scream out 'I'll catch you yet, Draco Weasley!'. It is a vicious Wealseys-eat-all world out there, where the sole survivors are the ones with," he paused dramatically, "the Knowledge."

Harry nodded slowly, eyebrows raised and wondering what in the world Draco was talking about.

"Right now, Harry, you are like a juicy slab of meat to us dogs. But!" he added quickly before Harry could complain, "I will personally make sure that you are ready to face the real world by the time we get out of this room. You see, Harry, to be able to survive, you have to not only be able to counter others, but also initiate an attack. You, Harry, have to become one of us." Draco took a deep breath and puffed out his chest, lowing his voice an octave. "I, Draco Weasley, formally induct Harry Potter into Weasley's Weasels as the fourth member of our team." He smiled at Harry, "welcome, forth member."

Harry was stunned for a second, then broke out into laughter. He laughed for a long time before his lungs gave out and he began to wheeze. "Weasley's Weasels?" he managed between breaths, "and was that some kind of welcoming speech?"

Draco chuckled self-consciously. "Yeah, kind of. Fred and George allowed me to join them about three years ago, and since I'm the third and we can't be called the Terrible Twins, George made up a name. My speech was more of a summary, since I can't quite recall all that they said, but I remember they made it sound a whole lot more dramatic and used a bunch of words I didn't understand."

Harry started laughing again, and the blonde couldn't help but join in.

Moments later Harry's laughter dwindled down into a wide, sparkling smile. He twisted his hand to free his wrist then grabbed Draco's before the blonde could read the wrong message. "Thanks. For trying to cheer me up."

The blonde stared at their joined hands, then frowned at Harry's words. "Trying? Does that mean it didn't work?"

"Oh no, it worked," Harry gave his hand a squeeze, "it worked wonderfully."

Grinning, Draco squeezed back, "so that means you accept?"

"Accept? Hell yeah!"

Draco's grin widened at the excitement, and gently withdrew his hand. "I have to finish the ceremony." He placed his hand on top of Harry's head, and began reciting loudly. "On behalf of the members of Weasley's Weasels," a snore came from Zabini, and he dropped his voice, "I pledge to you," suddenly his eyes widened, a deep sorrow coming over them, and his voice faded away, "my trust, my loyalty, and my acceptance... no matter the circumstances."

No matter the circumstances.

"Draco."

There was a hand on his shoulder, Harry's. He blinked. In front of him, the boy stared on worriedly.

He shook his head. "The next thing they did was to turn my skin purple for a whole day, but I think they made it up just to tease me. I won't do that to you." He offered a soft smile. Harry didn't buy it.

"Are you sure you're alright? You don't have to do this, you know."

"Yes and yes, I know. I wanted to." There was a new determination behind those gray eyes, and Harry nodded, satisfied.

Glancing briefly at the clock, Draco set to work on teaching Harry the various properties of the powders, how to use them, and the proper deactivation techniques for each. "These powders are basically dried potions," He explained, "they are a lot less messy, disappears quickly, and doesn't wake up the victim the way splashing them with a pot full of liquid will. I made most of them, actually," he smiled proudly, "the twins are more into toys and foods. So," he concluded, "which ones would you like to use?"

"Um... I was thinking this. For both of them."

"What! Harry, they broke your glasses," Draco sighed exasperatedly, "don't you think you're being too soft?"

The boy scratched his head, smiling self-consciously. "It's only my glasses."

"Bah," Draco crossed his arms, "you make it sound like it happens all the time."

Harry pretended not to hear, choosing instead to pick out the bottles and head toward his first victim. Draco frowned at this, but decided to file the thought for later.

"Remember," he whispered as he approached the concentrating Boy-Who-Lived, "just two taps of the silver one."

Harry nodded silently, then moved on to Goyle.

"I bet you one chocolate frog that they don't even notice it," Draco said.

Emerald eyes glanced at him sideways, "you're on."

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People were whispering during breakfast. Apparently, the self-proclaimed leader of the Slytherins, Blaise Zabini, had an accident. Wearing his full winter outfit, complete with gloves, the boy was currently trying to stuff a piece of toast under the black silk bag covering his head, with two eye slits haphazardly cut out for his viewing pleasure. He scratched his arms constantly. On either side of him, Crabbe and Goyle stuffed themselves happily, unaware of their leader's discomfort.

The only people who knew about the horrors he had to hide were his roommates, and it wasn't hard to have a slip of the tongue when coins were exchanged. It only took ten minutes before the whole dining hall was clued in.

From across the hall, Draco saw Fred and George exchange a grin. He smiled softly, then set his jaw at the thought of what he was going to do. All of a sudden, he felt a displacement of air behind him, and upon turning found his Head of House, Professor Snape, approaching Skinny.

"Mr. Zabini," the man drawled in a tone that Draco recognized but couldn't place, "is there a legitimate reason why you are inappropriately attired for the season?"

"N-no, sir," squeaked the boy.

"Then I suggest you change, Mr. Zabini." With that, he glided away, but not before turning to Harry and giving him a hateful glare.

When Draco glanced at his friend, he saw the tail end of a confused but defiant stare.

"He hates me, I know it," Harry muttered.

"He was the one that gave you a headache yesterday, wasn't he." It was a statement, and Harry gave him a surprised look. Draco waved it off, answering Harry's silent question with an "of course I noticed."

"When I saw him," Harry whispered, "my scar started burning."

Draco picked up a piece of toast and began to butter it. "Your scar was a mark from You-Know-Who... and Professor Snape is the head of our house." He put down the butter knife and took a bite out of his toast. "That sucks, Harry."

The Boy-Who-Lived sighed and took a bite of his plain toast. "You have NO idea."

...tbc!!