A/N: As this title suggests, there is "bonding" between other people besides Harry, who, in fact, does not appear at all in this chapter other than through other characters or through recollection. I believe this is essential in Draco's development and I also want to give the voice of secondary characters. Please enjoy nonetheless. I will be out with Chapter 12 by the end of February by the way.

Chapter 11: In Which there is Bonding

Draco lay on the bed with a fur blanket covering his entire body, but even though he also wore two cotton sweaters and a pair of wool socks, he could not be relieved of the chill that remained in his body after what happened to him just hours before. He held the pendent loosely in one hand beneath the pillow in which he was laying on, and wondered, with great difficulty, the message the pendent was trying to convey. Or did it mean anything at all? With all the changing temperatures on the small pendent, it could mean so many things, yet at the same time, it could equally mean nothing. Draco didn't know what to think. He originally gave it to Pansy as a pretty present that could shut her up, but the jeweller failed (or did Draco just didn't listen) to warn Draco of any possible magical properties the stone may have possessed.

Three hours ago, he was sitting on the edge of the mattress he now laid on, receiving a kiss, which was as mysterious as the blue pendent he held, from a most unlikely man. Turning on to his back, Draco recalled that moment of confusion.

First there were shivers running all through his body, even though he was fairly warm, and that was as Harry had first taken his steps towards Draco. Then there was the murmur of words from Harry that left Draco unsure of how to respond. He knew Harry had been drawing closer with every breath he was taking, but Draco couldn't comprehend the situation when Harry extended out his hand to him…and how it pushed through his hair without hesitance. Draco had realized that the shivering was due to his body returning to his normal self as the polyjuice potion was beginning to wear off, so which part of him was it that Harry had referred to as being beautiful?

"…but you Draco, you are flawless."

Since when did Harry start calling Draco by his first name? Since which part of him had been flawless?

Draco frowned as he looked at the ceiling. In the silence of the room, he could only hear his heart beating steadily within his chest, but it beat faster the more Draco replayed what had happened earlier.

Harry's hand had already occupied itself on Draco's head; following that was the halting of the blonde's unexplainable shivers, and then there were Harry's lips on Draco's cold ones. He couldn't fathom any of these actions. Draco never knew a man's mouth could be so gentle against his. It was different compared to the rough kiss of Blaise, which seemed as if Draco was being sucked like an octopus him (back at the Raven Hall Banquet), and it was also significantly different from his kiss towards Pansy, which felt sticky and wet, and even smelled sickeningly of vanilla. What was it? What made it different?

Was it the way Harry's lips just lightly pressed against his? Was it the way Harry tugged at his bottom lip just slightly as he pulled away? Was it the way Harry's hand had felt at the back of his head, as if he would never let go; the way Harry's thumb smoothed over his temple as he gazed quietly at him? Was this all Harry had to do to rattle Draco's nerves up?

Draco touched his lips with his numb hand and sighed – the ghost of warmth still lingered there. He knew now that at the exact moment he reverted back to his original male body, Harry had made his move. Draco only came to this conclusion after he threw Harry out in a rage, misunderstanding the situation and reading everything too wrong, but he should have known. It wasn't long hair that Harry had been touching, it was Draco's very own light and short hair that Harry's hands had been skimming through; it was his lips he had kissed. The only question was why?

"Are you flattered now?"

Draco cursed in the air, remembering his displeasure at hearing that sentence, but there wasn't a doubt that he wasn't flattered, if a little flustered and confused as well. Nobody had ever treated Draco in the way Harry had done, or even spoken to him in such a haunting voice. Draco had every reason to feel embarrassed and angry at Harry, a man whose ulterior motives were usually unexplainable, especially in crucial moments; this resulted in Draco wanting to know why Harry had done what he did. It didn't make any sense.

The blonde couldn't even blush at that time, having been too furious to be bashful and too prideful to begin with. After the instance of physical contact, Draco had only stared at Harry with blank cold eyes. His hand touched Harry's, as he used it to lower it away from his head, and then he dropped it. "Potter," Draco had uttered bitterly, while sitting uncomfortably stiff on the edge of the mattress, "don't ever touch me like that…again!" And then quite unexpectedly, Draco felt a deep fire burning within his chest as he shouted the last word. To Harry's surprise, he had been knocked off his feet and was sent flying out the room, the door automatically slamming shut and locking itself after his body hit the wall outside.

Left alone in the room, the blonde wondered why he didn't use magic earlier – the first time he came over to stay and had his wand taken away at the same time, since he could use magic without his wand if he felt strongly against something. However, for sure that time round, that level of magic was definitely traceable. So, accordingly and expected of dutiful Harry, the Black Manor had been whisked into a different location because Draco now stared at a landscape that was far more sinister than the previous setting. Thin trees swamped in fog were visible passed the windows. Staring outside without any particular thoughts, Draco could only guess of their whereabouts.

It was morning by the time Draco opened his eyes, but it wasn't the usual hour that he woke up by. Deciding that he felt too restless to go back to sleep, he threw aside his blanket and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He remembered the time he broke the mirror and walked through the shards with his bare feet, leaving a trail of red that streaked across the rug. There wasn't anything that could've soothed the pain he felt as he recalled the death of his parents – not the destruction of the room or even the blood that drained from his feet. Yet, somehow, Draco did manage to pass most days without a single thought of their death.

Turning the knob of his door, Draco noticed the pendent wrapped loosely around his left wrist like a bracelet, and for a moment felt discomfort sweeping through his body, yet it was thrilling at the same time. Then he entered the dimly lit hall, intent in putting last night's incident into the back of his head. As it was still early in the morning, Draco didn't expect anyone would be awake – even the people in the paintings, that lined the walls, were quietly snoozing. Taking a step forward, Draco walked down the hall until he came to the stairs overlooking the foyer. He could see faint light striking through the fog as he glanced at the foyer main window, and wondered again where he was. He then crossed to the next wing to continue his exploration (the Black Manor was still unfamiliar to him and not all the rooms were known to him). These were the headquarters in which his hosts slept. Feeling adventurous and a little mischievous, Draco strolled in. He surprisingly met with Hermione.

"Malfoy!" she cried with a surprised whisper, jumping a little in her nightgown. The several parchments, and leather books she carried, were shook loose from her arms and fell to the ground with a rustle and thump. "You surprised me! What are you doing so early up in the morning...?"

But Draco was already bending down to pick up the fallen items before she could finish her sentence. Surprisingly to Draco, it was a natural reaction when he immediately tried to grab the books, and as he straightened himself, handed over the three books and a parchment to Hermione, he stared at her without a word.

"Thank you…" Hermione said smiling a little as she gathered the remaining objects into her arms once more. "I thought you would just laugh at me and walk by."

"I thought I would too," Draco said blinking, "but a lot of things have changed since Hogwarts. I'm sure you would've given me quite a beating if I ignored you…" Draco recalled last night's banquet when a man whose name he could not remember tried to harass them. Nonetheless, the man left them alone after Hermione dealt with him.

"I might've not have," said Hermione walking in the opposite direction of Draco's. "You are, after all, still a guest of the Black Manor. Even you should be treated with some courtesy, no matter our background. By the way, you may not want to wander around too much. Harry and Ron might think you were trying to spy on them or some other sort of nonsense."

"And you wouldn't think of me as the same way? Who do you think you are? Some sort of angel?" Draco retorted. Without knowing why, Draco began to follow Hermione, his sense of adventure disappearing as his yearn for social contact overwhelmed him; to say the least – he was lonely.

Hermione replied without hesitation, "I wish I could be – and a guardian one at that so I could be able to protect the ones I love. I forget the number of friends, colleagues, and patients I have lost to the Dark Side."

Now Draco faltered in his steps a little at the mention of his previous affiliation. He carefully asked, "How can you stand a Death Eater like me under your household? I was part of them too. How can you not treat me with more hatred?"

By this time, the two entered the staircase to the foyer and headed down. The area shone more brightly than before but, the fog still persisted. And as they walked down to the main level, Hermione spoke with ease, as if she knew what Draco would have said a long time ago, "I truly believe that you will not associate with the Dark Side anymore, which is why I also believe you are able to change. You remind me a lot of Harry right now, but who could he have been without the support of others? If I treat you the same as I would have done in Hogwarts, nothing could change. So I choose to forgive you in hopes that it would make a difference."

They reached the bottom of the staircase and headed for the kitchen that was in the back of the hallway behind the foyer stairs. Without a doubt, Draco knew every word that Hermione spoke was not a lie. He had a trained ear when it came to lies – most of it coming from lies he made himself, so Draco commented on Hermione's character, "You really are too much of an honest person. I have to wonder why."

"I'm honest when I want to be," said Hermione laughing a little.

"How can you be so forgiving as well?" Draco asked glancing down at Hermione.

The brunette looked straight with slightly lowered eyes and answered, "I choose to forgive more so to compensate for the lack of forgiveness Harry and Ron have done."

Draco was shocked into silence by the directness of her voice. How can a person be so honest to a person who threatened them in the past and forgive him at the same time?

Bloody hell…thought Draco, she's superwoman or something.

"Don't wonder so much," Hermione said, interrupting Draco's thoughts. "Just think: Would you rather I treat you cruelly?"

"In fact, I wish you would. I'd be more comfortable that way," said Draco realizing his words. "If you treat me too kindly, I think there will be false intentions."

"Remember you are here under the protection of Harry in exchange for the possible information you could have on Voldemort," said Hermione. "There is the possibility that I just want to be nice to you so you would open up to us."

Draco had already considered this and decided for a while now after he hadn't sensed ill intentions from either three hosts. A little annoyance and hatred there, but it was just who they were – they didn't bother to mask themselves for Draco. After all this time, he should've been able to say something to them…in order to shelter him; in order to aid his cause in revenge.

"Information on Voldemort," said Draco slowly, "I'll only speak to Potter about it. It has nothing to do with you or Weasley."

Reaching the kitchen at last, Hermione placed the books and parchment on a large wooden table and stared sceptically back at Draco. "How can you say that?"she asked with a frown. "Who do you think we are? No matter how you look at it, we are all involved. It's what connects us right now."

For a moment, Draco had to decipher what she meant but, as he examined the way her stern eyes did not falter or look away, he knew her determination – he understood the need to protect no matter the reason, because it was something he had not been able to do. The blonde sighed and knew that what he said was selfish.

Right then, Ron entered the kitchen with a drowsy walk and yawned. Hermione greeted him with a casual 'Good Morning.' He greeted her back sleepily but was jolted alert to see Draco alongside her. "What's he doing up so early?" Ron asked accusingly.

"Couldn't sleep," said Draco without any hint of the tone he usually carried towards Ron.

The redhead only stared back at the seemingly innocent man on the other side of the kitchen. Draco could tell he wasn't sure how to take it, then Ron scratched his head a bit and kind of grinned a bit, "Ah…I see. Well, couldn't blame you after what happened last night and all. The banquet really was a frenzy…You must've hated dressing up as a woman."

"Of course I did!" Draco suddenly snapped with bitterness. "It is the ultimate degradation of my life – I," said Draco who then received a disapproving look from Hermione. He finished off with less fierceness, "…I actually learned a lot from being a woman. It's uh…"

Ron stared at Draco with horror. "You mean you actually liked being a woman? Bloody hell…! I never thought I could hear that coming from a man, nonetheless from you, in my lifetime!"

"Wha-?!" Draco began, but Ron continued on his rant with his hands tangled in his hair in frustration.

"This is incredulous – blasphemy – what have men become now? What happened to pride? Masculinity? Testosteroooone?!" Ron indignantly cried.

"Oh, stop it with your nonsense!" Hermione said harshly, giving Ron a slap to his head. "You never do learn, do you? But it wasn't that bad…was it? Malfoy?"

Draco still felt as if part of his man-self had been ripped from him, but he tried his best at satisfying Hermione. "Besides the sexual harassment," he admitted through clenched teeth, "it wasn't bad. I admire you Granger, for the way you are able to handle yourself." Draco turned his attention to Ron, continuing but with a harshness just enough to indicate that he meant no trouble, "And Weasley, I have no idea how you could've misunderstood me, but being a woman holds an entirely different power of their own – in fact, you are even lucky that you can even be in the presence of this Muggle here."

Draco finished with a smirk, although he didn't know why he sounded so proud of Hermione. His two hosts stared at him with disbelief – one with dumb-foundedness and the other with a flattered face. "Just my opinion…"Draco muttered looking away.

Ron chuckled quietly. "You're right though. I am lucky…or pitied, "Ron considered with a frown then lightened up, "but out of all the glittering stones in a cave, she picked the rustiest one."

"You mean the dirtiest one," said Hermione with mock disgust and when Ron looked hurt, she laughed and put her hands to his face. "Honestly, who are you to use figurative language? But you know, rusty or dirty, I know I found a gem beneath that filth." And then she kissed him.

"…I can't believe I just heard that," Draco stated, watching the two mash lips and mouths. "I feel the need to puke. I'm leaving."

Hermione broke away quickly from Ron, and appearing slightly embarrassed, she requested that Draco go up to the second floor of the West Wing. "What for?" Draco asked with suspicion.

"You wanted to look around the manor didn't you? Wasn't that part of the reason you are up so early? This will keep you occupied," Hermione explained. "Go to the room that is between two statues after a left on the second right of the fourth left turn of the hallway. In the room there'll be three doors on the left. You must pick the one closest to the window and make sure you turn the knob twice before pushing it in. Then in the room, on a table beside a black wardrobe, there'll be a stack of books that I have forgotten there last week. I don't particularly like that room, so could you bring it down, Malfoy?"

"What am I?! Your errand boy?" Draco retorted but was silenced by Hermione's dark threat of not feeding him for a week if he didn't do as told. Draco imagined not being able to eat toast fresh from the magical toaster and felt his stomach sink. He leaned towards Hermione, his brows creasing as he stated stiffly, "I'll be back shortly, but you better have three slices of fresh toast with peanut butter and jelly jam on top, by the time I come down."

"Do you think you can remember what I just said?" Hermione chided.

"It isn't hard to remember," Draco shrugged arrogantly. "Second floor, West Wing: go to the room that is between two statues after a left on the second right of the fourth left turn of the hallway. Pick the door closest to the window on the left side of the room, then turn the knob twice before pushing it in. Your books will be on a desk beside a black wardrobe and god knows why you would leave your books there if you didn't like the room at all."

"I received an urgent call from my hospital and had to leave," Hermione confirmed, jutting her chin out.

"And my toast?"

"Three fresh slices with peanut butter and jelly jam, served on china, with pulpless orange juice and ice in that mug that changes colour inside. Plus, placed on table with the chair closest to the heater. Is this to your liking, Malfoy?" Hermione finished smugly.

Draco raised a brow and smirked. "I didn't know I was being watched by a pervert, but yes, that is to my liking."

"Hey! A little too close for my comfort here!" Ron cried grabbing the fuming Hermione and pulling her to a hug. "You better watch your mouth, Malfoy. She may be a pervert – but she's MY little pervert!"

As the situation turned out, Ron decided to accompany Draco to retrieve the books Hermione wanted. He sulked beside the blonde, nurturing his swollen cheek which was imprinted with a hand. Draco couldn't help but snicker. "Don't worry," he said, "she'll always be you're little pervert. I'm not interested in brunettes with bushy hair anyways."

"Her hair's not bushy – it's wavy," Ron muttered as they continued to walk.

"Really…? And you can tell the difference?"

"She makes sure I do," Ron said, still caressing his cheek. "What about you? You fancy black hair?"

Harry's face flashed in Draco's mind and then his shoulders grew stiff. He glared at Ron, inquiring the basis of his question.

Ron didn't look at Draco and continued walking straight with his face still clearly in pain. "You know, because of Pansy. She has nice, long black hair you know – dangerous or not – she's still quite the bomb. And you've been together with her since Hogwarts."

Draco walked slowly as his hand came to relax on the back of his neck. He massaged it for awhile and sighed. "We aren't together anymore, but I guess I do fancy black hair."

The two turned corners in silence before Ron grew curious. "So…I know we don't like each other but…what's with the change of heart all of a sudden?"

Draco glared at Ron. "Do you want me at your throat?"

"Of course not! It's just I didn't expect we'd be able to talk like this. It's strange. For once, I don't feel like socking you."

"…I guess it has something to do with how you, Granger, and Potter seem to get along. You have so much trust it makes me uncomfortable."

"That's what friendship is," Ron said staring at Draco as if he said something ridiculous. "We've been together for almost a decade. You should know – you've tried to kill us. We have our ups and downs but it made us stronger. Isn't it the same for you?"

"No," Draco replied flatly. "I don't know who to trust, who to confide in, and the people I thought I could trust have either died or betrayed me. So no, I don't know the kind of friendship you're talking about."

Ron laughed to himself. "Hermione was right. You know she was the first person to try and convince me to look at you differently after Harry decided to bring you under his wing. She didn't ask me to forgive you, because that's impossible. You were behind the incident where Dean got murdered weren't you? You and the Trio."

"Yes, I was." Draco couldn't feel regret.

"He was one of my best mates and you indirectly got rid of him. I'm never forgiving you."

"You should know I wouldn't dream of asking that from you."

"But somehow, Hermione forgiving you has done something hasn't it? You got to admit that. I can't imagine how she is able to forgive you."

"Neither do I," Draco wondered, "but I'm glad she did. She's your pillar of strength, isn't she? To you and Potter."

"No doubt about it," Ron agreed with enthusiasm.

'I choose to forgive more so to compensate for the lack of forgiveness Harry and Ron have done.'

"Then cut her some slack," Draco stated, quickening his stride.

The blonde's curt comment confused Ron. "What are you talking about?! Hey – are we going the right way?!"

"I never get directions wrong," Draco confirmed. They reached the last turn and headed towards the designated door.

Ron followed Draco's back as they proceeded down the hallway. Then before the silence could thicken, Ron blurted out, "You're like a different person Malfoy. I'm not surprised. I keep hearing about you over the past few years. It's not pretty news. And then I hear you from Harry and suddenly you're staying with us. Harry goes off about you all the time…"

Draco slowed down and his ears pricked up as he listened to Ron go on.

"One day it's how you get on his nerves and how he wants to beat you to a bloody pulp, then the next day he wonders how to make you talk, and then the next he says you're driving him crazy with your lack of awareness for him," Ron ranted, "and then for some reason last night, he barges into mine and Hermione's room saying he doesn't know what to do with you. Everyday, he's preoccupied with something about you. Malfoy! Don't you have anything to say?"

Draco did have many questions but they were ones he was afraid to voice. And by the time they reached the first door, Draco suddenly didn't feel like asking. The moment his fingers touched the knob, he felt a strange tingle through his arm, but continued on.

"Malfoy! Are you listening?!"

Ignoring Ron completely, Draco opened the door and faced a dim room with a heavily curtained window. The closer Draco headed towards the last door, the more uneasy he felt. He confirmed that something was not right when his hand, once more, reached to turn the knob three times before pushing it. Then he let the door swing open and at that moment, a chill swept through his body. There were no windows in this room – only a small chandelier that lit at his entry.

"Weasley," Draco said lowly as he glanced around cautiously, "what exactly is this room…?"

"What?" asked Ron stepping inside. "It's just a normal room. What? What's wrong?"

"You idiot – don't you see anything?" Draco spat.

There were shadows running all along the floors and walls and Ron was standing in the middle of it all. "Who are you calling an idiot?! I don't see any-" the redhead cried before he sunk in to the shadows.

"Weasley!" Draco yelled from the doorway. He ran into the room without a second thought and stared at where the redhead had only been. Then he looked around the room.

Draco grit his teeth as he stood where he was. What was Hermione doing in here...? he thought.

A/N: What was she doing there indeed :D As usual, reviews would be greatly appreciated!