Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, stop rubbing it in!

A Small Rant: The next chapter or so are going to be like this. If you have an idea for a scene to happen, I am open to all sorts of ideas. Oh and don't forget to review, I will take everything you guys say with a grain of salt yea?

Flashes: Glimpses of the Past

Chapter 1: Eighth Year and a New Beginning

"Well Potter, what do you want?"

Harry held out the box topped with a red bow, "Here you go, Malfoy." When Malfoy just looked at the box skeptically, Harry continued, "It is yours after all."

Then Molfoy's eyes blazed and burned as if Christmas had come quite early.

"Is that my wand then?" Harry could see that his hands were itching to rip away the last minute bow and open the box.

"What else of yours have I taken?" Harry asked in jest, not knowing that maybe a few days later Malfoy would use that same excuse to start a conversation. When all Malfoy did was stare at the box, Harry took action himself and opened the box to reveal the Howthorne wand, gleaming with magic of its own.

Harry watched as Malfoy took the wand out and tried to find a comfortable hold. He watched as the fire in Malfoy's eyes was sated. He watched as a small smile was borne on Malfoy's lips. And he couldn't help but smile in return. After all, there was nothing—no one—to stop him from doing anything he wanted.

After all, he was free, of Voldemort's insanity, of Dumbledore's manipulations, of his own pressing obligation.

"Why are you smiling like an idiot, Potter?"

"I am happy."

"Why?"

"You are happy also, right?"

With that Harry left, with a wave of his hand and a smile lighting up his eyes, he had left behind a very confused Draco Malfoy, who despite having sworn many times that he couldn't stand to be near the Golden boy, was now very eager to see the same smile directed at him again.

"Malfoy!" Harry Potter gasped out as he almost tripped over a non-existent rock which lay on his path.

"Potter!" Draco Malfoy barked, amused at the lack of balance on the other boy's part, "What have you done with my wand?"

"Your wand? I have done—"

"Where are your glasses?"

"What?"

"Glasses. You know the disgusting out of fashion thing that usually hangs on your face?"

"It's—"

"Aren't you blind without them?"

"I—"

"Can you see me Potter?" Draco waved his hands in front of Harry's face.

"Alright, who gave you chocolate frogs?"

"Don't ignore my questions." Draco demanded.

Harry sighed, yet again, "I don't need my glasses anymore. I got myself to the optometrist."

"You put your eyes under the wand?"Harry watched the normally composed Slytherin bounce around him, asking him questions.

He smiled, "Yes, Malfoy, I did. And it didn't hurt. But the spell just has to be re-cast every year or so—"

"And you don't understand why it can't be fixed permanently."

"Yess..."

They made their way around the lake. Harry smiling at the excited Malfoy and Malfoy hopping around Harry like an over excited bunny on Easter. Yes, the other would regret ever eating chocolate frogs but Harry intended to savor this moment of peace and what felt like to him a start of a new friendship—at least until Draco Lucius Malfoy got off his high.

"Potter, how are you so unlearned?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh, "I'm sure you'd like to tell me just why my eyes can't be fixed permanently."

"They can, you just don't know how," came the smug reply.

"Thanks, Potter."

Harry stared at his classmate for a while or two. He couldn't believe that Malfoy—Draco Malfoy—would ever express his thanks to him. "What?"

"Nothing." The blond spun around and walked away.

Before he got too far, Harry said after him, "thanks, Malfoy." His voice echoed in the silent hallway.

The other boy slowed down, but didn't stop.

"Thanks for letting me borrow your wand."

Malfoy didn't stop, he didn't turn back around to face Harry, he didn't repe3at his words but the way he walked—not so stiffly now—Harry was sure that there was a small smile on his face.

"Harry, what—why—sitting there?" Ron asked, his face turning a not very fetching red.

Hermione turned to her boyfriend, "Ron, complete sentences please. And coherent too." She added as an after thought.

"But Hermione, Harry's summoned that—that chair and he's sitting on it." The last part of it was said with a quiet desperation.

Hermione Granger's eyes snapped up from her book "His thinking-about-Malfoy-chair?"

Ron nodded, not yet ready for another adventure.

Hermione put her book down completely, her eyes wide open. This was a serious matter; the presence of that chair didn't mean good things at all.

"Maybe , you saw wrong?" she ws hoping against hop.

"I wish." Ron plopped himself sown on a seat across from her, "But that chair is unmistakable. Why do you think he feels the need to conjure that chair again? Malfoy hasn't been acting weird at all."

Well, Hermione thought, Malfoy was acting a bit weird… She rubbed the bridge of her nose in thought. They had just finished the adventure of a life time (and she hoped there wouldn't be another one like it again_ and had just cleared their gloomy futures (the war was over and Voldie had moved on to another plane of existence). She had thought that maybe they could bask in the peace for the next few years—maybe ten. She had been looking forward to worrying about normal things like the next exam or Ron's wondering eyes (as if he could take his eyes off her—she smirked, just a little bit)or something else totally mundane. Anything was better than Harry summoning that chair. She bet Malfoy wasn't even doing anything suspicious; maybe it's just in his nature to e sneaking around Harry. Maybe Harry and she were just being paranoid again.

"I'm sure there is no reason. Maybe Harry just really likes that chair?"

"Yeah.." H sounded dubious of that fact. She knew he was going to worry so she leaned over, grabbed his head and planted her lips on top of his. He pulled her on top of him, lifting her by her small waist. Ron loved kisses and Hermione loved distractions.

They would ask Harry about what exactly he was thinking sitting on that chair. But right now they were…preoccupied.

"Harry."

They had decided to confront him. They braced themselves and Ron reminded himself of what Hermione had said about showing a united front. He squeezed his beautiful girlfriend's hands and her lips which had turned into a hard line threatened to break. She absolutely hated doing this. But they knew they might have to be a little tough on their beloved friend; he always had been a little too obsessed with Malfoy but the feeling was mutual. They could tell.

"Hey guys!" Harry was all smiled. They hadn't been expecting this; at best they were expecting moody eyes and mumbles about evil gits and at worst they…well that was entirely up to Harry wasn't it?

"Harry, we had a question." Ron started awkwardly when Hermione didn't say anything.

"Ask away." The smile was back on; in fact it had never left his eyes.

"What's with the chair, mate? Ron continued on with his usual fashion when his girlfriend remained silent.

Harry blinked, as if confused, "It's my thinking chair, you know that."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance. They didn't want to say, "it's your thinking-about-Malfoy chair to be exact.'

"So, what are you thinking about?"

He looked at them as if they were acting stupid, "You know it's my thinking-about-Malfoy chair." He said happily.

They stood there, shocked at his answer.

"Oh." They left as Harry went back to thinking.

As he watched his best mates walk away, dumfounded, he grinned. As if he didn't know what they called his beloved chair. And it really wasn't a thinking-about-Malfoy chair as much as his planning chair. He came up with the best pranks and strategies while sitting on him.

He couldn't be blamed. Some people had thinking hats, Harry had a thinking chair. And it was amazing!