DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter

You ALL know that my favorite thing in the world is reviews so won't you make me happy and tell me what you think so far? Any suggestions, comments, critiques? I appreciate anything and everything you wanna give me :) And you know that whatever I don't write about, it happened just like in the movie/book. Just so ya know. Oh, and a special shout out to kowabungabrittany (go check her out!) for being my beta ^^

YEAR THREE

The summer sun shone brightly on Malfoy Manor, flooding Draco's large and open second story bedroom. The Slytherin green colored curtains flowed rhythmically as a light breeze blew through the few large open windows. The light bounced off his white walls, reflecting on every silver object in the room. The glossy, unscathed chestnut wood floor was strategically covered with well kept oriental rugs. A line of older mahogany bookcases led up to the king sized canopy bed that took up most of the wall it stood against. The canopy curtains were an emerald color, contrasting loyally with the silver canopy legs and bed frame, the second Slytherin color. Draco lazily lay on his stomach across his deep green comforter, his chin resting on a small silver pillow as he concentrated on the movement of his quill scratching out words in his leather-bound book. Across the room, Blaise was rifling through Draco's enormous dark wooden wardrobe. The tiny silver etchings that decorated it glittered in the sunlight.

"Bloody hell…" Draco heard Blaise mutter with his head deep inside the closet.

"Mm?" he hummed questioningly, not looking up from his writing.

"What in Merlin's name is this?"

Draco glanced up to see Blaise pulling out a long black set of robes, dark patterns intricately sewn into the vest portion of it. The robes were clearly outdated and Draco grimaced.

"Dress robes" he grumbled. "They were my father's when he was my age." Blaise held up the robes to himself in measurement.

"Huh. I thought your father would want you to have custom made ones."

Draco smirked. "Yeah, I have a set or two of new robes, too. That's just for sentimental reasons, I suppose."

Blaise looked over the robes once more before tossing them back in the wardrobe and flopping down on the Slytherin colored loveseat in the middle of the room. He stared at the ceiling for a while, the only sound coming from Draco's quill. Blaise sighed loudly.

"Done writing in your diary yet?"

Draco glared at him, raking his fingers through his hair to push away some random loose blonde strands. "It's not a diary" he growled. Blaise rolled his eyes and cast off Draco's anger with a wave of his hand.

"Fine. Done writing in your very, very manly journal yet?"

With an annoyed huff Draco slammed his book closed and sat up to face his friend. "Blaise, why do you even come over? You do nothing but go through my things and annoy the hell out of me."

The wizard in question shrugged. "Nothing to do at home. My parents are always out and I don't like being alone."

"Go buy a cat" Draco suggested sarcastically, smoothly sliding off his bed and heading for his bedroom door.

"Ah, but a cat doesn't provide for such engaging conversation!" Blaise taunted with a grin as he jumped up from the couch to follow him out.

As soon as he turned the corner out of the hallway though, he stopped. Draco had frozen at the top of the stairs, his face tense. He crept quietly up beside him and opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but the hard look in Draco's eyes kept him silent. Below, a muffled male voice could barely be heard. From experience Draco knew it was his father, probably in his office and by the sound of it, he was pissed. He looked up at Blaise who shrugged. Draco decided he needed to get closer and find out what had his father so upset.

As the pair silently made their way down the stairs, Lucius came storming out of his office. Draco stopped short which caused Blaise to stumble into him with a protesting yelp. Lucius' eyes flashed with fury as his head snapped up to frightened eyes.

"What are you doing?" he asked icily.

Draco's light silver eyes widened. "I– we were going to get something to eat in the kitchen" he said quietly.

"Get something in Diagon" he ordered sharply. "I don't have the time or the patience to take you to get your things."

Confusion clouded Draco's expression as he stepped down the rest of the stairs to stand in front of his father. "But, how am I supposed to get there then? Is Mum–"

"You know your mother isn't here, Draco" Lucius snapped. Draco dropped his hands to his sides, giving up.

"Then who's taking me to Diagon? I can't Apparate by myself, you know." Draco bit his lip as he saw his father's jaw set in anger.

"We have a perfectly acceptable fireplace" he replied, his patience clearly long gone. "Use it."

Draco's eyes widened in horrified disbelief. He was at a loss for words. Still on the stairs behind him, Blaise stifled a laugh.

"Father…" he finally choked out, "you can't be serious! Floo Powder? Do you know how demeaning that is? You can't expect me to go as low as the Weaslys and–"

A swift firm strike across Draco's cheek cut him off. The air in the room went deathly still. He took a moment to compose himself before turning back to face his father's blazing eyes through his watery own. Lucius' face was hard as stone.

"You will do as you are told" Lucius threatened in a low voice.

Draco stared up at his father for a moment before moving past him in compliance. Blaise followed quickly behind. Neither of them said anything until they entered the living room. This room was much darker than the other rooms, the light being blocked by thick, deep purple curtains that draped down to the floor. The walls looked like faded velvet, the color undeterminable. Slightly worn couches and armchairs with tall backs sat in a sort of semicircle in front of a large dark wooden desk. The room had a rich but old kind of smell to it. Draco liked to read here when no one was home. It made him feel important, knowing that he was surrounded by a long history of important meetings and decisions made by past Malfoys in this room. He stopped in front of a large graying wooden archway on the far wall that led to a smaller, dimly lit room.

"Wait," Blaise whispered suddenly, "you're really going to use Floo Powder to get to Diagon?"

Draco turned around slowly, the anger obviously written across his face. "I don't really have a choice now, do I?" he snapped in a low voice. "Are you coming?"

Taking one look through the archway at the large white marble fireplace, Blaise shook his head quickly. "Naw, man. I should probably head back home. But you, uh…you have fun." He teased with a grin. Draco grumbled under his breath. He wanted to die rather than face this kind of humiliation, especially if he came out on the other end to someone he knew.

"See you on the train" Blaise called back as he jogged out of the room towards the front door. Draco nodded weakly, entering the side room.

Reluctantly, he picked up the solid black urn-looking jar that held the Floo Powder. The jar gleamed in the pale light, showing off the engraved silver crest of the Malfoy family. Draco lifted the lid and grimaced, taking a handful of the grey ash-like substance. Setting the container down he ducked into the roomy fireplace. Abruptly he realized that this was going to be one of the busiest days in Gringotts, the building this fireplace was connected to. He groaned loudly, feeling like he was going to be sick as he threw down the powder.

"Diagon Alley" he exclaimed with a sigh.

A brilliant flash of lime green flames announced Draco's arrival in Gringotts. He swiftly leapt out of the gold colored stone fireplace, hoping no one would see him. To his dismay he found the bank to be twice as crowded as he expected. Everyone seemed to be rushing around though, unable to spare a second to notice the blonde wizard's entrance. He weaved through the crowds, trying to get to the front doors. As the two impossibly tall metal doors came into view, Draco noticed all the wizards and witches coming in were shaking out their umbrellas, dripping wet. He cursed his father under his breath as he reached the doors, pushing one open in hopes that there would only be a light drizzle on the other side. A sheet of rain and a rumble of thunder contradicted him.

Of course. Well, it's either the rain or waiting here.

Draco glanced behind him at the mass of bodies taking up the smooth gold tiled floor. He ducked his head and made his way through the downpour.

Keeping his head bowed he slowly maneuvered around deep puddles and mud covered cobblestones, shifting his eyes up briefly to check the store names for the bookshop. He hadn't gone more than a few feet before his outer robes were completely soaked, the water dripping steadily from his hair down his face. He folded his arms tightly against his chest, shivering as the wind blew against his back. Finally, the bookshop came into view. He jogged quickly towards it, only to see though the window that it was packed with people waiting out the rain. Draco huffed in annoyance.

Why are there so many people in the world?

Not wanting to stay out in the rain any longer than necessary, Draco quickly tried to think of a place no one would be, even when it's raining. Unfortunately, the only place that came to mind was Fossey's. A flash of lightning got Draco swiftly moving in that direction as he tried his best to think of a different place to stay. Nothing had come to mind by the time he stood outside of the unpleasantly familiar rundown bar and restaurant. He took a deep breath and pulled open the door.

A warm glow welcomed Draco into the restaurant. He peeled off his outer cloak, heavy from the amount of rain that soaked into it, and hung it on a coat rack next to the doorway. Not seeing anyone around, Draco took a random empty seat. He shook out his drenched hair and ran his fingers through it, trying to arrange it in an acceptable fashion.

Damn rain. My hair actually looked good today.

He sighed once he finally got a few wandering blonde stands of hair in their place. Today was not turning out to be as great as he thought it might. He'd been dying to get away from home ever since his father found out Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban. It did nothing but put Lucius is the foulest mood Draco had seen in a long time, and an unhappy Lucius made for an unsettling time at Malfoy Manor.

Plink, plink

Draco glanced up to see water steadily dripping from a few small cracks in the roof and falling far below into an old tin bucket. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop in rhythm with it, uncomfortably shifting in his chair. His cold clothes were sticking to him unpleasantly causing a few involuntary shivers through his body.

"Oh! It's you again!"

Draco almost fell out of his chair as he whipped around to the unexpected voice behind him. He caught himself as Fossey ran forward, grabbing his arm forcefully and yanking him out of the chair.

"Oh my hearts and stars! You must be chilled to the bone, poor dear! Come, come, have a sit here by the fire."

She led him over to one of the soft, worn velvet armchairs and gently pushed him into it. With a sweeping wave of her arm, the wood in the fireplace ignited. A few short beckons with her other hand and Draco's chair slid up closer to the growing flames. He felt the warmth engulf him immediately and he sunk back into the chair with a content sigh. Fossey watched him with a motherly smile.

"That's better isn't it? Now what can I get you, my dear? Something warm to help take the edge off the cold?"

Draco just nodded, keeping his eyes on the fire. He waited until he heard her leave to close his eyes, letting the heat wash over him. It felt wonderful. A small smile pulled at his lips as he felt his clothes begin to dry. Then he frowned.

Is this really the happiest I've felt in a while? How pathetic. A lit fireplace and warm clothes are actually making me smile.

He opened his eyes and slumped in his seat, resting his head against the back of the chair. Exhaling through his nose, he allowed himself to get lost in the dancing flames.

I suppose it's not too surprising. What has happened recently that was good? Certainly not my time at home. Father made sure of that. Blaise made things a little better in the beginning, but now he's just a nuisance.

Bringing up Blaise only made Draco depressed. His lack of real friends had been getting to him a lot recently. It never used to bother him because he always told himself that no one was good enough. Now he had started to realize it was because he never felt comfortable around anyone other than Blaise.

Great. My only true friend is a closet poof.

Getting too lost in thought, Draco didn't hear Fossey approach him. He flinched in surprise when a warm mug was placed in his hand.

"Oops! Sorry dear, didn't mean to startle you!"

Draco waved his hand dismissing her apology.

"Something on your mind, love? You seemed a bit preoccupied a moment ago. I don't mean to pry, goodness no! But a young man such as yourself shouldn't have too many problems to worry about! No sir. But if something's bothering you dear, don't be shy! Always happy to lend an ear!"

Draco cupped the mug between his hands and brought it close to his chest, letting the rising steam warm his chin and neck. Whatever the drink was, its spicy smell sent a warming sensation through him as he breathed it in.

"No," he finally answered, "I'm fine."

Fossey's expression had changed from soft to slightly worried. Something told her not to press the subject though, so she left it at that. With a nod of her head she turned and disappeared back into the kitchen. Draco watched her leave before taking a tentative sip of the light brown liquid in his mug. A tasteful array of herbs and spices flooded his mouth. Cinnamon seemed to be the dominant flavor. The tea-like drink was scorching but somehow didn't burn his tongue or mouth. He let it slide down his throat, humming quietly in approval at the delightful heat that followed. He reveled in the feeling for a moment before taking another sip. This time, the main taste was hazelnut.

Flavor changing tea, he thought with a grin.

Quick shuffling behind him announced Fossey's return. She beckoned for a small folding table that placed itself in front of Draco's chair. She set down a plain white plate with an almost comically colored creature taking over most of it. Draco raised an eyebrow at it curiously.

"Enjoying your tea dear?" she asked brightly.

"Uh…yeah" he responded, distracted as he tried to figure out exactly what was put in front of him. He couldn't even fathom the answer. "Um, what is this?"

Fossey chuckled to herself. "It's my Foreign Special, dear! Can't find anything like it around here! No sir. Go ahead and try it! It won't bite!"

Draco eyed it suspiciously. From what he could make out, there was a large, bright green snail-like shell covered in blunt, blood-red spikes. What he guessed was the body seemed similar to that of a slug, thick and almost glossy. Numerous thin tentacles were arranged under the body which went from a mauve color to a light blue. Draco couldn't imagine a more ghastly suggestion for a meal. He gave the creature another second of his time before turning his head back toward Fossey.

"Thank you, but perhaps it would be better if I just paid you for it" he suggested.

"Oh don't be silly dear!" she exclaimed, taking out a rag to wipe down the tables with. "It's on the house!"

Draco opened his mouth to refuse, but decided to let it go. He leaned back in the chair and sipped his tea thoughtfully.

Vanilla.

He glanced at the fork next to the plate, then at the shelled animal, then back to the fork. Taking a deep breath he brought himself forward and picked up the fork. He tried to cut into it using the side of the fork, expecting it to be too rubbery. However it cut quite easily, the inside white and textured in resemblance of fish. He speared the chunk with the fork, hesitating, debating whether or not he should really go through with it. With a slight grimace, he decided to go with it and quickly shoved the piece into his mouth. He breathed in sharply through his nose. The taste was hard to identify but he narrowed it down to a mix of lobster and chicken. The meat seemed to melt pleasantly in his mouth as he chewed and swallowed. He stared at the dish in disbelief.

Why is this place always empty? I could almost say this is amazing!

"So! Does my house special get your seal of approval?" she asked across the room with a grin. Draco smirked and slightly nodded his head.

"Yes," he replied, "it's quite good."

Fossey threw her hands up in the air in triumph. "Fabulous! Although I'm not surprised. Not many have a thing to say against my cooking! No sir!" she boasted with a wink.

Draco gave a silent laugh before consuming a few more pieces. Suddenly he froze, feeling that all too familiar tug on his gut telling him his father was looking for him. His face fell and he reluctantly placed his fork on the plate. With a sigh he pushed the chair back, the warmth gradually leaving his body. He placed a few coins on the small table for the tea, pausing to think for a second, and then leaving a few more hidden under the plate for the meal.

"Oh," Fossey said quietly, "must you leave already?" Draco shrugged one of his shoulders.

"School."

"Oh yes, that's right! My, my how time does fly! Yes you best be getting on your way, of course!"

As he reached the door, he stopped and turned toward her. "Thank you" he stated simply. Fossey tipped her head in response.

"Anytime, love. Anytime."

Draco gave her a half smile, grabbing his cloak from the coat rack and exiting the restaurant. The street was littered with puddles but the rain had finally ceased. A few rays of sun found their way through the heavy gray clouds. As he started walking in the direction of Diagon, he stopped short with wide eyes.

I still haven't bought my books…

He groaned at his stupidity. Lucius was not going to be pleased.