Note: It's been a week and Harry is going to age!

I've changed the rating because of all the naughty words in this chapter. I feel it is logical that a sixteen-year-old would use such language if he was this upset. Sorry if it offends anyone.

-:-

"When class is over you will all meet in the Headmaster's office," Snape said as he passed the group in Potions on Thursday. They all nodded before going back to their work. After class the troop headed up to the gargoyle and found Snape already there waiting for them. They entered Dumbledore's office and the Headmaster rose to greet them, eyes twinkling extra brightly when he looked down at Harry.

"Severus, you have the potion?" he asked as he settled himself behind his desk again. Ron, Hermione and Draco were all seated, with Harry on the latter's lap.

"I have it here," Snape said, producing a vial of purple liquid from his robe. "Potter should stand in the middle of the room," he continued. "He will be a little confused at first, but should be fine. His memories of the past few weeks, however, will seem like his own memories from when he really was five-years-old."

"What do you mean?" Draco asked.

"I mean simply that the memories will not be clear as your own memories from the last week. They will be foggy like any person's early memories." Draco's heart sank. He couldn't remember that much from when he was five. How could they be sure Harry would remember him at all? Well, he would remember something surely, but what exactly?

"Splendid. Alright, Mr. Malfoy, I suggest you say good bye," Dumbledore said. Draco swallowed hard and looked down at the adorable boy on his lap. Harry looked up with a frown.

"You're leaving?" Harry asked. Draco shook his head.

"No, I'm not leaving. You're just going to grow up again. I'll be right here." Draco rose, hugging Harry tightly and walked into the middle of the room. He set Harry down and gave the boy a kiss on the forehead. Harry waved at Ron and Hermione who waved back. Snape stepped forward and handed the vial to Draco, who nodded before turning to Harry. "Do you think you can drink this for me, Harry?" The boy nodded and Draco removed the stopper before handing the vial over. Harry sniffed at the liquid, but it didn't smell too bad so he drank it down. Draco stepped back as Snape spelled the clothes back to their original size. Harry suddenly clutched his stomach and made a gurgling noise.

"My tummy hurts," he said.

"It'll pass, Harry. Trust me." Suddenly Harry's limbs started growing at an alarming rate. The transformation was similar to Polyjuice Potion. It took about five seconds before the sixteen-year-old Harry Potter stood before them, swaying on his feet. Draco rushed towards Harry just as he fell forwards and caught him, grunting at the suddenly much heavier body. Ron and Hermione were at their side in an instant.

"Harry? Are you ok?" Hermione asked, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry's head was buried in Draco's neck and he groaned. His hands came up and grabbed Draco's shoulders, pushing himself off the Slytherin. He groaned again as one hand came up to hold his head, the other skill holding onto Draco. His eyes were tightly shut, his face a grimace.

"What the bloody hell happened?" he ground out.

"You were subjected to a de-aging potion. You've been five years old for the past week" Hermione explained. "What do you remember?"

"I remember…" Harry began, but stopped short. His eyes shot open and he locked eyes with Draco. Suddenly he ripped his hand away as if he had been burned and took a step back. He looked around the room frantically as if hoping some other explanation would present itself.

"Perhaps, Harry, you should go to your dorm and rest. I believe sleep will help with the confusion," Dumbledore said kindly. "If you have more questions tomorrow I'm sure your friends will answer them for you." Harry closed his eyes again and clutched his head. Hermione put her hands on his shoulders and turned him slowly towards the door. Harry let her lead him out. Draco stood staring after them, feeling very bereft. Ron shrugged at him helplessly and followed.

"Mr. Malfoy, are you feeling alright?" Dumbledore asked, causing Draco to spin around and stare at him.

"Yes, I'm fine… thank you," he said. Dumbledore nodded and Draco returned it with a curt nod of his own before leaving without another word.

xxx

Well, what had he expected? Surely not that Harry would fling himself into Draco's arm like he had so many times as a five-year-old? Perhaps he had hoped, in some deep part of his subconscious, that Harry would tell Draco they could at least be friends now. Fat chance of that happening, Draco thought glumly as he lay in his own bed the next morning. His expression when he looked at me? Was it just surprise, shock… or horror?

In the end Draco had to get up and face the rest of his house. Thankfully, even a week with a bunch of Gryffindors hadn't made him completely soft. He assured the Slytherins that now that he had served his punishment he was very much relieved. He convinced them that as a Slytherin he had manipulated the Gryffindors to make the week bearable. When Pansy returned from the Hospital Wing, however, things looked grim for a moment. She wailed about her horrible encounter with the Mudblood and how Draco had been mean to her. The Slytherin Ice Prince simply sneered at her and told her it was her own fault for making his life complicated. He told the story of how it had taken the rest of the day to make the brat child shut up. Everybody seemed to accept this, mostly thanks to everybody already hating Pansy, but Blaise Zabini took the opportunity like a true Slytherin and made his move on Pansy. By breakfast they were together. Draco couldn't care less so long as the rest of the House didn't question him.

He sat, trying not to let his despair from yesterday show on his face, eating at his usual spot at the Slytherin table. The only difference was Pansy's, and consequently Blaise's, movement to the end of the table. Draco had won that round. When the noise level rose, signalling the return of the aged Boy Who Lived, Draco couldn't help himself and looked up. None in the Trio seemed to have gotten much sleep. Draco assumed they had stayed up and talked. His heart fell when he saw Harry's expression. His jaw was set and his eyes were cold. It was the first time Draco associated Harry's eye-colour with Slytherin green. As a five-year-old those eyes had been much too warm for such a comparison. Suddenly he caught Ron's eye. The redhead gave him a sad look and a shrug. Draco kept his face blank and went back to his breakfast. He finished it in silence.

Rising from the table Draco jerked his head to signal that Crabbe and Goyle should follow him. (The two thugs had been rather lost without Draco the past week and had trailed after random Slytherins, much to their dismay) They made their way to the doorway, Draco so caught up in his thoughts he didn't even notice the Trio was approaching before they passed through the large doors together. Harry was pointedly ignoring Draco, Ron and Hermione falling slightly behind as they fell into step beside him without Harry's notice. Crabbe and Goyle always walked two steps behind Draco.

"Hey, Draco," Ron said, trying to whisper just loud enough for Draco to hear it without having to move closer. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Sod off, Weasley," he spat. He really couldn't deal with this with so many students around. Hermione and Ron stopped short. Draco took two more steps before stopping as well. He cursed his weakness even as he turned towards them. "What?" he asked, secretly wanting to slap those hurt looking faces. "Did you think we'd just continue with the charade?"

"What's going on?" Harry demanded, having finally realised the others had stopped. He stood beside Draco, glancing between his friends and his enemy.

"Nothing at all, Potter. Just keep your groupies on a tighter leash," Draco spat.

"Fuck off, Malfoy," Harry said before turning and stalking away and out of the castle for his first class. Draco nodded to Crabbe and Goyle, dismissing them since they didn't have the same classes. He turned and walked up the stairs towards his Arithmancy class. He heard Ron run out after Harry, while Hermione ascended the stairs two steps behind him.

"That wasn't very nice," Hermione commented as they started walking down the corridor towards the classroom.

"In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm a Malfoy, and Malfoys don't do nice," he drawled, not bothering to stop or look at her.

"You know this doesn't exactly help your cause. We tried to explain things to Harry, but if you keep acting like that he's never going to believe us." Draco suddenly spun around and glared at her.

"I don't have a bloody cause Granger! I don't care what Potter believes or not. The week is over. Everything goes back to normal."

"That's impossible." Draco sneered at her.

"Really? And why is that? Potter seems to be acting normal."

"Because you're not who you were last week," Hermione said simply. Draco's glare faltered, but only for a moment.

"Give it up, Granger," he said before turning on his heel and walking down the corridor again. Luckily there weren't that many students in the Arthimancy NEWTs class, and most of them always arrived early, so there wasn't anyone to overhear them.

"Draco-"

"Don't call me that."

"I know you're afraid of what your housemates will say, but once in a while you've got to fight for what you want, Gryffindor or not." Draco shook his head and ignored her. If he just ignored her then everything would go back to normal. It would be like the last week never happened. He sat in the back of the classroom that day, thinking about trying not to think about Harry Bloody Potter.

xxx

Maybe I should just… become a Death Eater or something? Draco thought dismally as he sat at lunch. An image of a crying five-year-old Harry appeared instantly in his mind and he sighed. Fucking Merlin's balls. How the hell did Dumbledore's little Hero manage to save a Malfoy of all people? The only question is… what exactly did he save me from? And what the hell have I gotten in return? Draco looked at his housemates and realised Potter hadn't saved him. He was still the Prince of Slytherin. Nothing had changed. Fuck! My mind keeps going in two directions at once! Again he told himself to just ignore that nagging feeling in his gut that he was doing something wrong and pretend nothing had happened. Potter was still being a stupid Gryffindor after all. Why on earth should Draco act any different than he usually did?

Despite his attempts to reassure himself Draco couldn't force himself to eat. He made up some excuse and left the Great Hall. Deciding he wanted to be away from everybody he dismissed Crabbe and Goyle and started walking up the stairs towards the Room of Requirement. On the seventh floor he walked slowly down the corridor, dragging his feet in a very un-Malfoy-like manner. Suddenly a hand grabbed a fist-full of his robes. He was yanked to the side and then pushed into a nearby classroom. He almost stumbled to the ground, but managed to right himself quickly and turn to glare at whoever had dared to manhandle him like that.

"Ron! Hermione!" he exclaimed incredulously. The pair stood with their arms crossed over their chests. Ron's face looked grim, while Hermione had a tinge of worry in her eyes. "What do you want? Why did you drag me in here? How dare you!"

"Quit your whining, Draco. We just want to talk," Ron spat. Draco focused his glare on the redhead.

"You can't just drag people into classrooms when you feel like it! I should hex you, Weasley!" They stood glaring at each other, though Draco never moved to take out his wand.

"Oh, honestly," Hermione huffed suddenly. "Ron, stop being rude. Draco, we really just wanted to talk to you alone."

"Just say what you want to say, Granger," Draco said, his eyes narrowing.

"Just lay off the last names will you? You called her 'Mione a second ago!" Ron said angrily. Draco ignored him.

"Ron, perhaps I'll do the talking for now," Hermione said calmly. Draco snorted, but she ignored him. "Draco, please, just explain to us why you're back to being…"

"A snarky, arrogant, egotistical git," Ron finished.

"What? Didn't you know?" Draco asked, leering at them suddenly. "It was all an act. Isn't that what Potter believes?"

"He does right now, but I think we can convince him eventually," Hermione said sadly.

"Well, don't bother," Draco spat. "I don't want anything more to do with a bunch of Gryffindors."

"Fuck off, Malfoy. I knew you'd run back to your little Slytherin cohorts the second you didn't have an excuse!" Ron yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Draco.

"You dragged me in here! So, if you're done with your talk and your pathetic insults, I'll just be on my way." Draco strode over to the door.

"Did our friendship really mean that little to you?" Hermione asked softly just as his hand touched the door-handle, causing the Slytherin to pause.

"We never had a fucking friendship," Draco said equally soft before opening the door and slamming it behind him. Draco practically ran down the corridor towards the Room of Requirement. He started pacing in front of the hidden door, but his thoughts weren't focused on what he needed. What the hell did just happen? he kept thinking. Suddenly the door appeared and Draco yanked it open, only to stop short. This is what I require? The room was exactly like it had been when he and the Trio had come to play and sit with five-year-old Harry. Draco hesitated slightly before sighing and entering the room, letting the door fall shut behind him. He seated himself on the couch, staring wistfully at the chess-set that sat on the table in front of him. He glanced around the room, looking at the many toys and remembering which ones Harry had liked to play with the most.

"I must be out of my mind," he mumbled to himself, placing his head in his hands. "I can't lose my place in Slytherin. One thing is thinking You Know Who is wrong… I can't openly go against my father." Draco had never been one to talk to himself, but it was as if the room itself, along with the good memories, was listening to him. "And Harry… sweet little Harry. He hates me now… and I, well, I can't seem to hate him like I used to. I know what he's been through. Merlin, I can't… I just can't. It's unthinkable!" Draco suddenly felt a tear slide down his face and he felt something break within him. He couldn't even remember the last time he had cried, but now he did, silently. He lay down on the couch, burying his face in the pillow. He cried for his father, for the situation he now found himself in, for Harry's hatred of him, for Ron and even for Hermione, who now surely hated him as well… the only true friends he had ever had, gone.

-:-

A little sad, but I'm going to make it better!