"Show your friend to the guest room," Aunt Petunia snapped. Her momentary softness was gone.
"He's not my friend," Harry muttered, pushing angrily past his aunt and uncle.
"And keep him away from Dudley," demanded Uncle Vernon, oblivious to what Harry had said. "Your lot keeps doing strange things to him."
Harry smirked as he led Malfoy up the stairs. Uncle Vernon was, of course, referring to the pig's tail Hagrid had given Dudley when they first met; an act that had planted a suspicion that was compounded years later when Fred and George Weasley had intentionally given him a candy that had grown his tongue to immeasurable lengths. For a moment he contemplated setting Malfoy, who had very few reservations when it came to using curses, loose on Dudley. But then he grimaced. Even Malfoy didn't deserve to be stuck with such a vile person.
At the top of the stairs Harry paused. "Your room's there,"" he pointed, " And that's the bathroom there." He turned to look at Malfoy again. When he spoke his voice was full of contempt for the blond. "Listen, I don't know what you're doing here, or what it is Dumbledore was being so cryptic about. But I don't like you, and I don't want to see you, or talk to you. Stay here if you have to, but leave me alone."
Draco nodded his head, his lips pursed. He pulled open the door to the guest room. As Harry opened his own door, a thought struck him.
"Malfoy," he asked, his voice much calmer than before, "Do you know how to turn on the lights?"
Draco turned back towards Harry and shook his head. Sighing, Harry walked over and reached through the door.
"You see this? It's a switch. They're in every room, usually near doors. If you move it like this," he demonstrated, "the lights come on in the room. Make sure you turn them off before you leave the room though, or Uncle Vernon will yell at you."
Malfoy nodded his head. "Thanks," he said. Harry turned to go back to his room, a little surprised to be thanked. As he reached for the handle, he heard Malfoy's voice again.
"Potter, could I use the shower?" His voice was flat and nervous, with no trace of the sneering tone that Harry had come to know at Hogwarts.
Harry sighed again. "Of course Malfoy. Follow me, I'll show you how to use everything.'
Harry angrily paced back and forth in his room. Malfoy, living with the Dursleys? What was Dumbledore thinking? He itched to send a letter to Ron and Hermione, but it would have to wait until Hedwig was back from hunting.
"Boys!" called Aunt Petunia's voice from downstairs, "Supper!"
Harry smirked. Supper with the Dursleys and Malfoy? This was sure to be interesting. He looked towards the guest room as he stepped into the hall. The door was open and the tall boy was staring out, unsure if he was invited. Harry nodded once and gestured him forward gruffly.
In the kitchen Harry took his regular seat, displeased to see that the extra spot for Malfoy was set directly next to him. The boy hesitated for a moment before sitting down.
"Draco, was it?" Uncle Vernon asked, chewing on a piece of chicken. "Odd name. Where's your family from?"
"Wiltshire," Malfoy answered in a flat tone. He picked up his knife and began cutting delicately at his food.
"Wiltshire," mused Uncle Vernon. "A country boy then? How did you end up mixed up with this lot?"
Harry saw Malfoy stiffen beside him. He was staring into his plate as if he might melt a hole all the way through it.
"He was born to a wizarding family," Harry cut in, sensing the other boy's distress. "A really old and well-known one."
Uncle Vernon grunted into his plate. "Old and well-known? Then what's he doing with us?"
Harry shrugged in response. He had no idea what Malfoy was doing hiding out with them. All he knew was that he didn't trust him.
Aunt Petunia decided to try a different approach. "Where are your mother and father?" she asked.
Malfoy stiffened again. "My mother is at home," he replied icily.
"And your father?" Harry cringed at Dudley's inability to read expressions.
Malfoy looked up from his food and fixed his piercing gray eyes on the large boy. "Potter put him in Azkaban prison a few weeks ago."
Aunt Petunia gasped. Uncle Vernon pushed his chair backwards and Dudley, having had firsthand experience with the dementors of Azkaban the summer before, slid right off of his. All of the Dursleys fixed their eyes on Harry.
"Like I said, his father tried to kill me," Harry answered the unspoken question. "The same night his aunt succeeded in killing my godfather. Unfortunately she got away."
Aunt Petunia made a strangled noise in her throat and turned back to her food. Uncle Vernon wisely decided to drop his attempts at small talk. Dudley was not so perceptive.
"Where is she now?" He gasped. "And why are you friends with him if half his family's trying to kill you?"
Malfoy pushed back his chair and stood up. Averting his eyes from the table he walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
Harry sighed. "Actually, his whole family is trying to kill me. And last time I saw him, he would have taken any chance he could get too." He pushed back his chair. "I'm going to bed."
The next day passed quietly. Malfoy was, at least, making good on his agreement to stay out of Harry's way. He left the guest room briefly for breakfast and dinner, where he ate quickly and silently. Hedwig had not returned from her hunting trip, forcing Harry to delay sending a message to Ron about the present situation.
Harry was woken early the next morning by a tapping. He leapt out of bed eagerly and threw open his window. Hedwig flew in, a mouse clutched in her beak. She hooted appreciatively as Harry ruffled her feathers.
"Eat quickly," Harry told her, "I need you to take a message to Ron."
Hedwig hooted indignantly and settled down to eat her mouse. Harry rifled through his bag to find a quill and a piece of parchment. He scribbled a quick note to Ron, rolled it up and tied it onto the owl's leg.
"Make sure he sends me a reply," he instructed the still-eating Hedwig. "And then hurry back. I need to send a message to Hermione too."
Hedwig flew off, the last bite of her mouse in her beak. Harry sighed and sat down on his bed. He glanced at the alarm clock that he had fixed years before. 7:30. He still had some time before Aunt Petunia was yelling at him from the kitchen. He swung his legs back under the covers and closed his eyes. But before he could fall asleep, he heard muffled sounds coming from the room next door. He heard a gasp and then- was that a sob? He opened his door and stepped into the hall.
The sounds were definitely coming from Malfoy's room. Curious, Harry bent down and put his eye to the keyhole. He blinked in astonishment at what he saw. Draco Malfoy was crying; really crying, with tears running down his face as he muffled his sobs in a pillow. He gulped and gasped, and then seemed to hold his breath as he sent the pillow flying across the room. A moment later he pulled the door open.
With a gasp Harry tumbled into the room. The look on Malfoy's face instantly changed to rage.
"Thought you'd spy on me, Potter?" he bellowed. Harry made frantic shushing motions. It wouldn't be good for either of them if their fight woke the Dursleys. Malfoy didn't stop. "I thought you wanted me to leave you alone. I guess I can't expect to have any privacy at all around you. Typical. Are you happy with what you saw?"
Harry pulled himself to his feet. "Malfoy," he muttered, "Not so loud. You don't want to wake the Dursleys."
"I don't bloody care about who I wake up, Potter!" With that, Malfoy launched himself at Harry, fists flying. Harry retaliated, getting in a good punch to the other boy's side before he heard Uncle Vernon's voice.
"What is the meaning of this?" bellowed Uncle Vernon. "I, out of the goodness of my heart, let you two ungrateful freaks stay here, and this is how you repay me? By fighting, by waking up my family, on a Sunday no less? Get out!"
Harry pulled himself away from Malfoy's grasp. "It was just a misunderstanding, Uncle Vernon, it won't happen again."
"It had better not!" Harry's tone had done nothing to soothe his uncle's temper. "Now get out! I don't want to see either of you again today!"
Harry glared at Uncle Vernon as he shuffled into his room, grabbed his wand and a small pile of money, and stuffed both into his pockets. He stomped down the stairs and out the door, Malfoy following close behind. Once both boys were outside, Uncle Vernon shut and locked the door. There was no getting back in now.
Malfoy stormed off down the street. For a moment Harry considered following him; the pale boy didn't know where he was and had no idea how to act in the muggle world. But then his shoulder began to smart where Malfoy had hit it, and Harry decided to let him find his own way for the day.
Harry started off in the direction of a local cafe. He was glad that he had thought to exchange a few Galleons for muggle money the last time he had been at Gringotts. He had been to visit the cafe several times in the past weeks on days when the grief of losing Sirius had threatened to overwhelm him. He hated to admit how familiar the scene of Malfoy crying had been- most days he cried at some point himself.
He settled into a cozy booth in the cafe. When the waitress came by he ordered a light breakfast. He ate slowly, playing with his food in an effort to distract himself from his thoughts. Finally he sighed and pushed away his plate. He looked at the clock above the counter, wondering what he was going to do for the rest of the day. He ambled out and headed towards a nearby park.
