"Stop that! You're supposed to bee the mature one," he heard someone say as something else tickled his nose.

His eyes felt too heavy to open. "Well you're supposed to be the bodyguard and quite frankly you're not doing a very good job."

"You know I can live without your attitude."

"I can live without your enthusiasm, your point?"

"Ah young love!" a third voice joined in.

"Don't you start it old man."

Draco laughed as he was reminded of a similar argument he once overheard during his 6th year. He wanted to open his eyes but they felt too heavy.

"Hey look he's smiling!"

"Maybe he agrees with me," he heard the old voice.

"Knock off old man!" was the last thing he heard before slipping back into sleep.

There was a blur in his memories. He faintly remembered a George, a Tom, his grandfather, maybe a few healers, some words that included a yes, a castle, and black carriage.

He was indeed very confused waking up. After feeling like he had been in a dazed dream he opened his eyes find himself on a bed for once. While it wasn't his bed, compared to tree branches or cardboard boxes, this bed was undoubtedly heaven.He looked around him, the room had a style similar to his own house just...brighter. Nothing particularly flashy but certainly stood out in comparison to Petunia's home which had been considerably dull.

He sat and looked to the door as it opened when a young woman in black and white dress walked in holding a silver platter. On top appeared to be a hot bowl and small towels. "Oh excuse me, sir, I wasn't aware you woke up."

"W...water," he coughed up. His throat felt terribly dry. The woman quickly placed the platter on a nearby table and scattered towards the nightstand pouring water into a cup handing it to him.

"Are you alright sir? Master Edward said you've been in a daze these past few days," she spoke walking to back to the platter and soaking the towel. Draco watched her as she semi-drained the towel with water. Signaling him to lay down, he did as she placed the warm towel over his forehead. Her touch was soft. She quite pretty, she had an olive skin tone, blue-green eyes,and loosely curled dark brown hair. "What's your name?"

"Draco," he answered in a daze, the little energy he had was receding.

"Nice to meet you, my name is Eleanor," she smiled.

Closing his eyes he quickly doze off. "Eleanor, that's a nice name," he murmured.

The sun hinted at the start of a new day as the morning rays pass through the curtains. Draco squinted as the sunlight hut his face. He pulled the sheet over him in a vain attempt to hide. "You know if you keep sleeping, your eyes won't open anymore," he heard the familiar voice of his grandfather Abraxas...it was off though. Grandfather sounded cruel, unforgiving and he was dead, however, this voice was kind and gentle. Draco immediately sat up. To face the old man.

He sat cross-legged writing on a nearby chair and the table where the hot bowl was placed earlier. Now the bowl had been replaced by a tea set. "Where am I?," Draco asked, his voice sounded foreign to him.

"Hadham Castle at Little Hadham in Hertfordshire," he responded."Oh."

Hertfordshire was a couple of miles from London. About 30 minutes by broom if he remembered correctly. He heard about Hadham before once by his aunt, she murdered a muggle couple there. Somehow that had been considered one of aunt Bella's greatest achievements. Draco was sure if he didn't want to find out why.

"I heard from Eleanor that your name is Draco," he smiled. Draco nodded, there felt a comfort that emitted from him. He definitely wasn't his Grandfather. And that was enough for Draco. "So tell me Draco...what is a bright young man doing getting pulverized in front of the Queen's home?"

Draco shook his head. "I don't know. They just sort of attacked me."

"Are you able to stand?" the man asked. Draco wasn't sure. He had been asleep for so long he wasn't sure if his legs would respond.

He moved a little and realized his legs felt terribly weak. They were fine, he was just weak. "I think this is the first time you're lucid."

"I might need--"

"Need help?" he smiled. Draco had to squint, the old man's smile was blinding. "James!"

At that moment the familiar tuff of red hair entered the room. "Nice to meetcha!," the redhead smiled, "Name's James Stewart but you can call me Jay!"

"Jay, mind helping him and walking him to the garden?"

"Anything for you granddad," he answered as he began helping Draco out of the sheets. Draco soon realized these were most definitely not his clothes. In fact, these were made of real silk. Draco felt himself shake under his weight. "Careful there," said James (commonly referred to as Jay).

With some help from Jay, they made their way to the lavish garden hidden in the inner courtyard. In the middle of the said garden was a gazebo with food and tea already set. Within the gazebo was a very serious possible Tom not Tom, sitting at the table.

"No, I've already mentioned that the young lord of Finchley is allergic to goose feathers...," Draco looked at him. Strange man talking to himself, "..ah yes of course. Next week then at 3 o'clock sharp. Goodbye then."

Looking up the man stood quickly and slightly smiled, "Ah! Lord Ed, I see our resident sleeping beauty finally woke up."

Draco stared him down. He was almost tempted to punch Not Tom. "Excuse Harvey. He's quite the tosser outside his job."

Ah, Harvey...Draco's fist was really itching to punch him. "Harvey this Draco...er..."

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

"Not a very common name," the old man, Ed, pondered. "Anyway how, Draco this is Harvey Finch. And I am Robert Edward de Vere Capell but you can just call me Ed."

Jay guided him to the table. "There you go," he said as he sat him down.

"So where'd you come from Draco?" Harvey asked as he began to spread the butter on his toast.

"Wiltshire," he responded hesitantly to reach for scone sitting on pastry stand. His stomach won the fight; reaching for the scone and spreading jam over it.

"You're quite the distance from home then," Ed said taking a sip from his tea.

"If you live in Wiltshire then what were you doing in London?" Jay asked with curiosity. Draco contemplated. It was a bit shameful to explain he was on the streets of London living as a beggar to prove a point which would then possibly bring up the question of why he made such a bet.

"I-I um...ran away from home...," he sputtered. It seemed likely and no one would ever question it.

This had captured their interest. Draco mentally slapped himself. "Oh? Why's that?," Ed asked, "Unless you don't wish talk about it."

Draco panicked he really should've thought of something a really long time ago. He needed to think of something quick. Suddenly he remembered a particular family member and family. "My family was very poor and my parents were very ruthless so I ran away."

Ed frowned, "I see..." was all he said before going into deep thought. "I've got it!" he said with a smile putting his figure up. "Why don't you live here then?"

"Eh?"