A/N: Seven inches of gratitude to those who reviewed! I love you for it. Anyway, one of you asked when this is taking place. Erm, the boys are…16 or 17? I honestly hadn't thought about that specifically…Yes, they are going into…Oh, grade 12. Like me. Yes, that's lovely.

Ah, that first chapter was posted in rather a rush; I was very anxious to get it up. So, I apologize for the mistakes in grammar and the stupid formatting stuff, if you noticed. If you didn't notice, then there were no mistakes.

I suppose I don't know why Vernon and Petunia hate Harry…seeing as how he is not a Magical Freak (MF) anymore…Why don't you make up your own backstory to that?

DISCLAIMER: My mind was not blessed with the idea of the Harry Potter empire, I'm sorry to say.

Chapter Two

On the next one of Draco's trips past the front window the next day, he noticed that the Dursley's car was finally absent from their driveway. He decided to go and see if the non-Dursleyesque entity would have been left there, and making an educated guess, he thought he'd be correct.

The entity opened the front door wearing a ratty t-shirt and shorts that probably could have fit a small whale with legs (which, Draco realized, they probably once had), barely held up by a fraying belt.

They boy stared at Draco blankly for a moment, before Draco extended his hand.

"Draco Malfoy. I just moved in to the house across the street," he said, pointing with his forehead.

"Malfoy..." murmured the boy, grabbing Draco's extended appendage and shaking it. "Ah. You're the ones the Dursleys went to see."

"Yes...Why is it, though, if I may be so forward, that you said 'the Dursleys' rather than, say, 'my family'?"

The darker boy snorted.

"'Family' is the last word I'd use to describe our lovely little relationship..."

Draco considered this for a moment before speaking again.

"You still haven't told me your name."

"Oh. It's Harry. Harry Potter." After a short pause he went on. "Anyways, if you're here to see Dudley, he isn't here."

Now it was Draco's turn to snort.

"Harry, your dear cousin isn't exactly the greatest conversationalist I've ever met. Or perhaps he is, when not distracted by food — I wouldn't know."

Draco seemed to have passed some sort of test with this; for Harry laughed and stepped aside, allowing the blonde to enter the house.

"And you probably never will find out, either," he said as Draco brushed past him. "Erm, well, why did you come here then, if you didn't take to Dudley very well..?"

"Well, Harry, I came to see if you were crazy."

"Oh. Am I?"

"Maybe."

"You could be crazy, too. I could have just let an unstable killer into my home."

"I could have just walked into an unstable killer's home."

By this time Harry had led Draco through the house and upstairs, into what was presumably his bedroom.

"Draco, you said your name was? That's quite unusual, isn't it?" asked Harry.

"Yes, well, my parents are unusual people," he replied, wading through the debris of Harry's life and seating himself on the bed. "What happened to your parents, if you don't mind me asking?"

Harry turned to him and regarded him with eyes positively saturated with green-ness.

"You keep asking me if you can be forward, but you don't wait for an answer. You're forward anyway." Draco half-smiled and shrugged. "They died when I was a baby. In a car crash."

Draco nodded. He decided not to say 'I'm sorry'. People are always saying they're sorry. It wasn't his fault. Besides, he'd already known that that's what he was going to hear.

Harry stared at him a few moments before continuing. "That's when I got this." He pushed up his heavy black fringe to reveal the most beautifully horribly fascinating scar Draco had ever seen. He gasped a little.

"Oho, fuck, Harry..." he murmured as he stood up and walked toward Harry in the centre of the room. "That's brilliant." He reached out to touch it. Harry flinched, but didn't move away.

After a few seconds of this, the awkwardness felt only by Harry seemed to finally overwhelm him, and he stepped back, taking a deep breath. He cleared his throat and smoothed his hair back down over his forehead.

"Hey, er, do you want to go for a walk?" he asked.

"Yeah, all right."

The two of them walked through the house again and stepped across the threshold from the frosty, dry, synthetic climate of Harry's home into the heavy, still, suffocatingly wet summer. They made small talk as Harry led Draco in wandering.

Draco told Harry where he'd lived before, and that they'd had to move for his father's job (Harry still wasn't quite sure what it was Lucius Malfoy did, but it seemed to involve a lot of numbers and a lot of people who owned things and a lot of money). They realized that in September, they'd be attending the same school. At the mention of school, Draco noticed Harry's brows move slightly down and together. Clearly he was not fond of the place.

"How is school, then?" he asked.

"Oh, it's just lovely."

"Was that sarcasm?"

"Did it sound like sarcasm?"

"A little bit, yes."

"It was."

They found themselves at the small playground that Harry told Draco he often visited.

They commenced Playing.

A/N: Reviews make me hot all over. Review.