After All
PissedOffEskimo
Pairing: HP/DM
Rating:R (Eventually)
Author's Note: I've made a slight change. After careful consideration I've decided to up Harry's age by one year. Why, you ask? Because that's one less year before I get to write the 'sex stuff.' Gods, but I am shallow...

Summer I / Part B:
August 14, 1990

Six weeks later, Harry was beginning to think his summer wasn't going to be all that bad, after all. When he wasn't busy annoying Snape, he was with Hagrid outside or in the Headmaster's office playing with Fawlkes and, sometimes when he was really bored, he'd hide in the kitchen and watch the elves. It wasn't the most eventful summer he'd ever had, but it was, by far, the best. He wasn't in a cupboard, he could get food whenever he wanted, and he didn't have to spend all his time with people who hated him for existing, and he had gotten birthday presents, even if most of them were educational gifts from the staff (all except Hagrid, who had given Harry a pair of heavy boots he could use to tromp around the grounds when it was muddy).

It wasn't until a few days before Draco Malfoy was scheduled to arrive that things took a turn for the worse. Hagrid left to get the supplies that he'd need during the year, as well as some other things that he wouldn't tell Harry about; then Dumbledore was called away on business and supposed that he wouldn't get back till right before school started. Not only that, but Harry had been told that in the headmaster's absence he was to stay within the school walls. No going off to play with Fang, or trying to sneak into the forbidden forest. He had resolved, however, that he would find something to do and it wouldn't involve staying in the dungeons.

The first day alone had been somewhat boring, the second almost intolerable, and by the third, he found himself playing hopscotch in the second floor corridor, something he never, in a million years, would have imagined himself doing.

But there he was, skipping across a chalk outline that extended the entire length of the corridor and had been drawn on the floor by the house elves, who had probably made it that long to get Harry out of kitchens for more than ten minutes at a time so that they could get their work done.

He had made it half way across twice, but kept getting distracted and stepping on a line, which had been magicked to give him a small shock. On his third crossing he could actually see the end of the squares when something connected firmly with the back of his leg and sent him tumbling to the ground.
Harry felt his knee scrape against the stone and held in a cry of pain. Sitting back, he pulled his legs up to get a good look at them; the pants were shredded but his knees weren't too bad, the left one was bleeding a little, though, and he would probably have to put something on it. He rubbed it, wincing as he wondered if Snape's salves would sting as much as Pomphrey's did.

A derisive laugh sounded behind him, "That was brilliant," behind Harry stood another boy whom he had never seen before.

Stumbling to his feet, Harry looked over the person he could only assume was Draco Malfoy by the decorative 'M' stitched into the front of his silky black robe. Malfoy was taller than Harry by nearly a foot, he had white blond hair that was gelled back, sharp features, and grey eyes that Harry could only describe as... mischievous.

Harry tested his left leg, which felt a bit shaky, while Malfoy continued to chuckle to himself and held out his hand. "I am Draco Malfoy. You're Potter."
He didn't think he liked Malfoy very much, so he didn't bother to take the proffered hand, "Yes."

Malfoy dropped the hand, looking perturbed. "My father says you're a mudblood." When Harry didn't react, he crossed him arms over his chest. "Well, are you?"

Harry shrugged, "What's a mudblood?"

"It means your parents are muggles."

He didn't like the way Draco had said 'muggle,' and he most certainly didn't think 'mudblood' sounded any better, "My father was a wizard, but my mother came from a muggle family, if that's what you mean."

Draco shrugged disinterestedly, "Halfblood then, not much better." He heaved a heavy sigh and crossed his arms over his chest, looking as though he were imitating the potions master. "Snape sent me to tell you dinner was ready."

Still frowning, Harry brushed past the other boy and began walking down the hall towards the stairs that would take him to the dungeon. He ignored the indignant little noise that Draco made and the hurried footsteps trying to keep up with him.

Of all the possible scenarios that Harry had come up with regarding Malfoy, he had never imagined that he would be such a... such a prat. Harry hadn't particularly thought they would get along, he'd been terribly afraid that he'd make a fool of himself, that he'd freeze up or say something stupid as he often did around people who'd lived their entire lives in the wizarding world, but he hadn't once thought that maybe Malfoy would be so...

He couldn't even think of a proper word to describe him.

Draco pushed past him just as they reached Snape's door and smirked at him before opening the door and marching in, shoulders back like a soldier on duty. "I brought him back; he was playing some stupid muggle game on the second floor."

Snape looked up from his desk and took in the scuff marks on Harry's knees with obvious disapproval, "You will tell me where you're going next time."

Harry fought back a rebellious huff and sat down at the table the house elves had left. Snape didn't like having a table clutter his already cramped living space, so instead, he had the house elves bring one down for dinner and take it back with them before he woke the next morning. Harry didn't see the point, but also didn't want to aggravate Snape by asking too many questions.

Dinner consisted of codfish, chips or mashed potatoes, and green beans. Harry liked chips, especially with catsup, as he hadn't gotten to eat them very often at the Dursley's, but Snape despised the mere idea of finger food; he literally shuddered when Harry ate fish sticks or chicken fingers, and pizza left the professor looking utterly repulsed. Of course, it went without saying that having seen how much these forms of food disturbed his guardian, Harry asked for them as often as possible.

The only positive thing that Harry had to say about Professor Snape was that, unlike McGonagall, he did not make Harry say thanks when they ate in private; he did, however, make Harry wait until they had both seated, which could sometimes take up to ten minutes.

Harry was horrified to find that Draco was as meticulous an eater as Snape. He cut his food into small, easily chewed pieces, didn't ask for salt or pepper, he kept his elbows off the table, his back straight, and both feet firmly on the floor. It was very disconcerting for Harry, who felt suddenly uncomfortable with his legs crossed in his chair and catsup all over his plate.

He ate sporadically, shoving little pieces of food into his mouth every so often until the others were finished and he was free to push his plate away. It was another one of the very few good things Harry had to say about Snape, he did not insist that Harry finish every bite on his plate, in fact, he could care less whether Harry ate anything at all.

Standing up, Harry put his utensils on his plate and folding his napkin into a neat square. While Snape could do nothing about Harry's abysmal taste in food, he could ground Harry when he didn't follow the rules, and orderliness was the strictest rule.

"Where do you think you are going?"

"To my room, Professor."

Harry started to turn, but Snape's voice stopped him in his tracks. "Draco is our guest. You are not to go to bed until he does."

"Well, then, may I at least be excused?"

"You may."

Harry narrowed his green eyes, but said nothing else. Instead, he sat down on the sofa and stared into the fire until he heard the sounds of dinner being finished. Draco sat down in one of the chairs opposite the sofa and stared back at Harry until the smaller boy sighed heavily and looked over, "What?"

"You're bored."

Harry fought not to roll his eyes and instead turned back towards the fire. "Of course I'm bored. All my things are in my room."

Draco raised an eyebrow, "Care for a game of chess? I doubt you're any good at it and, besides, father taught me. I play against him once a week at the least."

Despite his reservations Harry agreed. It wasn't as though he had anything better to do. Snape sat at his desk, back to them as Draco set the board up. Harry hadn't played much, in fact, for the most part he'd watched others play it and kept himself interested in the battles between pieces.

Not that he got to play much this time either. In the entire hour they sat in Snape's drawing room he moved his pieces six times. The rest of the hour was spent listening to Draco talk about his father and his manor and his house elves and all manner of things while he pretended to be thinking about where to move his pieces.

"My father bought me my own owl, but I didn't bring it with me because father's away on business and by the time the owl reached him I'd probably be home anyway. Besides, mother said she'd break it in for me. She's always sending letters to her friends, sometimes she has six owls at a time out, which is why father bought me one of my own. That and I asked for one."

"He also bought me a broom, but I wasn't allowed to bring it with me either. Snape says you aren't allowed to have one, yet, so it wouldn't be proper if I brought mine. Have you ever even ridden a broom? It's fabulous, really, there's nothing like it."

"I brought games and such, because father said you weren't likely to have much because you had lived with Muggles who hated you and that Professor McGonagall didn't believe in frivolities; that the only thing she ever bought you were books and not many of those either, because Hogwarts has an extensive library. Is that true?"

Harry's eye twitched, he was getting very tired of listening to Draco's voice and he hoped that Draco would very soon get tired of talking. "Is what true; that Hogwarts has an extensive library?"

Draco scoffed, "Of course not, I've no doubt of the extent of the Hogwarts Library. Not that it's the largest by any means, the study at Malfoy Manor has a collection twice as large, I'm sure." Harry noticed Draco shifting his eyes back towards Snape, as though expecting him to say something, but Snape didn't turn around. "I meant is it true that you lived with Muggles that hated you? That you have next to nothing to do here?"

Harry looked down at the board, wishing Draco would get on with it. "Yes."

Draco shrugged and reached down, moving his knight carelessly. "It's a good thing I brought so much then. I thought perhaps I was over preparing, but I suppose not. I'd likely have died of boredom otherwise. Can't imagine how you've survived so long." Draco chuckled under his breath. "No wonder you've resorted to playing hopscotch."

Harry tensed, ready to attack regardless of the fact that Snape was sitting just a few feet away from him; unfortunately, it seemed Snape realized his intentions just in time, "Draco, that's enough. It's time for bed."

Draco shrugged and began picking up the pieces, ignoring their disgruntled thrashings at having been stopped mid-game. Harry had stood up to go to his room when Snape stopped him, "Draco will be sharing your room."

For a moment everything was very quite, even Draco stopped long enough to look perturbed at the idea. It was Harry, however, who took a deep breath and stood straighter. "No."

Snape turned from his paperwork to stare dead on at Harry, who almost flinched at the glare being sent his way. "You will do as I say. I will not have children sleeping on my couch and impeding my morning routine."

"No." Harry took a steadying breath, "I will not share a room with that stuck up little sod."

Draco's mouth fell open, trying to find words to express his rage. He had never been called anything so... so rude. Snape, however, seemed to have no trouble figuring out what to say. He stood from his chair and walked over to Harry, who backed up only a step before standing his ground and glaring back up at the Professor.

"You will not use that kind of language in my presence, nor directed towards a guest."

"It's true!"

Snape took another step forward, so that he was practically standing on the small boy's toes. "You will never repeat it again."

Harry doubled his glare efforts, hoping that it was even half as intimidating as he intended. "He's a stuck. Up. Little." Snape was so angry that he stopped breathing and Harry had force himself to continue, "Sod."

Harry had just enough time to realize that perhaps he shouldn't have done that before the back of Snape's hand connected with the side of his face.

-tbc-