Chapter 8

Malfoy kept Harry in bed for a few days before Harry all but forced himself out of bed to stretch his legs and exercise. After a quick shower Harry walked downstairs with Malfoy behind him. Sirius wasn't in the house but he did have the day off and decided to spend it with his friend.

"Where does he keep running off to," asked Malfoy as Harry opened the door to the basement.

"A friend's house," said Harry as he walked down the stairs. "He doesn't get to go out often so anytime he can is good. What excuse did you give your parents and Pansy?"

"My parents don't care how long I stay out of the house as long as I come back for important business," said Malfoy. "Pansy wanted to come till I told her not to, quite forcefully at that. She always was an eccentric. She thinks I'll contract some rare disease and die before we get married. I only wish."

Malfoy stopped as he saw was the basement room was turned into. It had been constructed into a home gym. There was two small mats the size of two rugs on the floor, weights, treadmill, and an abs ripper. There was also an air gun and paper targets.

"Potter, you're full of surprises," said Malfoy.

"And is that a good thing?" asked Harry taking off his glasses. Since his shoes were back up the stairs by the door he only had to take off his socks and got on the mat to stretch. He was only plain white shirt and grey sweat pants. His arm was still bandaged but in a sling to minimize it's movement. "Care to join?"

Malfoy crossed his arms. "Exercise makes me sweat."

Harry chuckled. "That's the point," he said and proceeded to work through several exercise techniques. It was difficult one handed but Harry made it look easy.

"Do you really know karate?" asked Malfoy after watching a few minutes, sitting on the stairs. So far Harry hadn't pulled any muscles or any of his stitches, which amazed Malfoy with the amount of force Harry was displaying.

"Karate, Tai Quoin Do, boxing, you name it."

"So far all I see is a bunch of punching and kicking."

"Martial art isn't just about attacking. It's also about a spiritual awareness with yourself and everything around you."

Malfoy looked at him in surprise. "Are you serious?"

"If you don't believe me you should try coming to one of my matches. I'm a second grade black belt." He looked up at Malfoy who was still watching him with interest. "I can teach you the basics, if you want."

Malfoy smirked. "Nothing personal, but I'd rather know how to use a gun."

"I can teach you that too, but what if you didn't have a gun? Or a knife? Then what will you do?"

"I'd bribe my way out."

"And what if that didn't work?"

Malfoy's eyes flashed. "You're not making it easy, Potter."

"And you're taking the easy way out." Harry sent a glare at the blonde. "If a mugger comes at you and demands your wallet, he's more than likely to kill you afterwards. You may have enough money to buy the world, but it isn't worth squat when you're dead."

Malfoy stood and walked the rest of the way down and faced Harry. "Just who do you think you are?"

"Your babysitter!"

Malfoy's fist shot out, which Harry easily avoided and smacked it up higher.

"Arm shoulder length or you'll wrench your elbow out," he said. Malfoy yelled and his foot shot out in an awkward kick. Harry caught it and flipped Malfoy onto the mat. "Don't plant your feet. You are not a tree with roots to keep you down."

"Are you giving me lessons?!" demanded Malfoy on the floor. Harry crouched down and rested on the pads of his feet.

"Does it look like I am?" he asked. Malfoy growled, rolled to his feet and threw another punch. Harry evaded it. "Come on, if you want to hit me, do something original." Malfoy sent another punch at Harry. "Move faster!" Malfoy tried to kick again. Harry grabbed it and made Malfoy cartwheel to the ground. "Watch your feet."

Malfoy lay panting on the ground as Harry crouched next to him. "How did you get so good?" asked Malfoy.

"I could say practice but that's old," said Harry. "Let's just say to train the body you first have to train the mind."

"And what does that mean?"

Harry smiled as he held out his hand and helped Malfoy up. Now on their feet Harry stared at Malfoy and it seemed like time stopped. He didn't know what it was, but something drew Harry to Malfoy. He didn't what was happening, maybe after feeling of the fight or the shot to his shoulder but Malfoy was suddenly very handsome, gorgeously so, from the silver blonde hair framing his face to the slight blush on his cheeks.

"Find something you like," asked Malfoy with a handsome smirk, breaking the spell Harry was under. Harry blushed as he shook his head.

"Let's, uh, start your gun lesson," said Harry walking over and picked up the air pellet gun.

"Aren't you going to teach me with a real gun?" asked Malfoy.

"I wouldn't trust you with a real gun, but this is close enough." Harry motioned Malfoy over. "Do you know the basics?"

"I know which end the bullets come out of if that's what you mean," said Malfoy with his arms crossed across his chest.

Harry smirked. "Just making sure." He slid the air pellets in the magazine. "Normally there's a safety but there isn't with an air gun. Pull the slide, aim and squeeze."

Malfoy took the gun and aimed it at the target. It had three rings of black, yellow and red. Below it were three empty aluminum cans. Malfoy had to pull the slide with his whole arm strength before he could aim and shot the paper target. The pellet pierced a yellow ring, almost to the black stripe.

"Good aim," said Harry. "But I've seen better."

Malfoy glared at Harry. "If you think it's so easy, why don't you try it?"

Harry didn't say anything but grabbed the air gun, pointed it at the target and shot four times. A hole appeared in the red dot and all three cans flew off the shelf.

"Show off," said Malfoy.

"If you don't want to learn then just say so."

"I didn't say that!"

"Then learn."

Harry shoved the air gun back into Malfoy's hands. Malfoy lifted the gun to aim at the new target Harry hung up, closing one eye. Both his eyes flew open in surprise when Harry reached around him and grabbed Malfoy's wrists.

"Potter, what are you doing?" he asked.

"Helping. You need to a little lower. Most guns have a kick that can throw off your aim. And keep both eyes open. You'll see twice as better." Malfoy shivered as Harry's breath ticked his ear. "Cold?"

"No," said Malfoy and turned to look at Harry, and time stopped again. Harry was wearing his glasses instead of the contacts he wore at school and it was oddly attractive to Malfoy. The feel of Harry's body and hands were strong and sure. He could feel a slight blush flowing to his cheeks.

"Am I interrupting something?" said a voice that made both jump. Both looked up to see Sirius looking down at them, leaning against the stair rail. "What's up, Harry? Teaching Malfoy how to shoot?"

"I thought you were at a friend's," said Harry.

"I was, but he had an emergency, so I came back to check on you guys. Obviously I interrupted something important." BAM "Ow! Harry! That hurts, you know!""

Harry lowered the air gun as Sirius rubbed his arm. "I'm trying to teach Malfoy self-defense," he said.

"Sorry," said Sirius. "Far be it for me to disturb the Jedi Master as he trains his Padawan." Sirius had to duck as another pellet was shot at him. "Hey! I bruise easily!"

"Just get out of here," said Harry a small smile on his face. Sirius went back upstairs before he got shot again, laughing the whole time.

"This isn't a safe house. It's a nut house," said Malfoy.

"Best way to know you're safe. Let's get some practice in."

Malfoy lifted the gun and shot. The pellet hit the white ring. Malfoy shot a few mote times and each got closer to the red center. Only the last one hit the red center.

"Who this friend Agent Black keeps seeing?" asked Malfoy.

"An old friend of his," said Harry. "They had a row a few weeks ago and Sirius is trying to work it out."

"What was the row about?"

"I didn't ask, he didn't tell."

Malfoy scoffed and aimed again. After a few more minutes of shooting practice Malfoy dragged Harry back onto the mat and started to learn martial arts.

"I'm only teaching you the basics," said Harry. "I can't turn you into Walker, Texas Ranger overnight."

"I don't expect you to," said Malfoy.

Harry showed Malfoy a few kick boxing moves and had on a hand pad to protect his hand as Malfoy punched him.

"Higher, Malfoy," instructed Harry. "And kick harder."

"I'd like to kick something," muttered Malfoy. Harry smirked.

"Come on, Malfoy. This is your chance to take a crack at me. The best you could do is try."

Malfoy's eyes flashed and he spun, his kick landing squarely on Harry's chest. Harry gasped and was thrown nearly onto the mat, gasping for breath.

"How's that for trying?" asked Malfoy.

"Damn," said a voice and both looked up to see Ron, Hermione and Ginny standing on the stairs. "That's a good kick," said Ron.

"I'm half tempted on taking that pellet gun and shooting him," muttered Malfoy.

"Only half," asked Harry.

"What's up, Harry?" asked Ginny.

"Teaching Malfoy how to kick box. What are you doing here?"

"Came to see how you were," said Hermione. "Obviously you're doing fine."

A ring tone sounded through the tense atmosphere and Malfoy went for his phone.

"Excuse me," he said and went up the stairs with it.

"Probably Pansy," said Harry. "She's been calling him every hour."

"How are you holding up," asked Ron as they walked up the stairs. "Malfoy still a prat?"

"When isn't he," asked Harry.

"I can't believe you have to baby-sit him," said Hermione.

"No one was more surprised than I was," said Harry. "At the time I wanted to wring his neck because he's so annoying."

"And other times," asked Ginny.

"I wanted to pop him in the nose." All four laughed.

"I saw that kick," said Ron. "It was really good."

"You know I haven't had a good match since you quit and joined the football team," said Harry.

"I can still kick your butt."

Harry put on a mock thoughtful look as he sat on the couch. "That's funny," he said as Ginny sat next to him. "Last I remember, I was the one doing the butt kicking."

"Care for a rematch," asked Ron holding up his fists in a mock fight.

"I don't think so. I think I pulled something throwing Malfoy to the floor." Harry reached up and rubbed his wounded shoulder. Hermione tsked at him.

"That's what you get for exercising your shoulder too soon," she said.

"Do you want me to massage it for you," asked Ginny. Harry gave her an intrigued look.

"What do you want," he asked.

"Just some of your spicy meatballs in pasta sauce," said Ginny with a devious smile. Both Ron and Hermione smiled as well.

"That does sound good," said Ron sitting on the couch.

"Anything sounds good to you, Ron," said Hermione next to him. Ginny sat next to Harry and began to massage his shoulder.

"And here I was ready to cook for you," said Sirius in the kitchen.

"Who'd want to eat your food," asked Harry teasingly. Sirius pouted and everyone laughed.

XXXXXXXX

Draco walked up to the guest bedroom as he answered his phone.

"What do you want, Blaise," he asked.

"Dude, your girlfriend is acting like an old nanny over where you are," said Blaise on the other end.

"Well it's your job to keep her from asking those questions," hissed Draco in the phone.

"It's not as easy as it looks, man. I've told her everything I could think of short of killing her. Has she tried to call you?"

"Once," said Draco rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I hung up on her." He heard Blaise laugh on the other end. "Don't sound surprised. It's not the first time I hung up on her."

"It's not the first time you skipped out on her either. She'll keep calling, you know."

"I haven't been answering."

"Well, Pansy's been hounding me on where you are," said Blaise.

Draco gave an exasperated sigh. "That girl needs to get laid," he said.

"Well, you can accommodate her…"

"I don't even want to think about it."

"I don't even want to be around when your father finds out about you don't want a wife…."

"Which will never happen if I have my way. Getting rid of Pansy is another thing."

"I can help," said Blaise. Draco could hear the devilish tone in his friend's voice.

"Please do," said Draco. "So tell me what's happening at school."

"Someone drew a picture of McGonagall as the Wicked Witch of the West in the Foreign Language room."

"You're joking. Did you get a picture?"

"Didn't have to. It's being sent around school through phone and e-mail. I got it from Nott who got it from Millicent who go it from Crabbe who got it from Goyle who got it from…."

"Just send it," snapped Draco getting a headache. His phone beeped as he got the picture. It was a fully colored sketch of McGonagall riding a broom wearing a witch's hat and robe. Draco laughed at the picture.

"Everyone found it funny as well. Except Snape and McGonagall. You know them. Serious to a fault."

"Thanks, Blaise. I needed a laugh. I'm staying in a mad house."

"You still won't tell me where you are?"

"Only that this place is crazy. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you later."

Draco turned off his phone and sat on the bed to think. It seemed to be all he was doing, thinking and avoiding Potter. It seemed like Potter was different depending on the places he was. At school, Potter kept a distance from everyone except his closest friends, and even then he had a punk attitude. He acted as if he didn't care about what was taught, pretending to sleep through class, or at least Chemistry. The only class Potter seemed to excel at to Draco's knowledge was Gym. Other than that class Potter doesn't get a very high score in tests and exams.

But at home, Potter was very different than the one Draco was used to at school. He was more open, but reclusive at the same time. Like the room he insists on keeping closed and wanted Draco to stay out of. What was so important in that room that Harry had it separated?

"Malfoy, if you're hungry come on down," called up Potter. Draco had just opened the door when a yell sounded downstairs.

"Ron! Get out of that! Wait till everyone's served!"

Draco got down in time to see Granger chasing Weasley away from a pot filled with meat balls, noodles and pasta sauce. Draco could smell the different spices from the pot. In a bowl next to the pot was an assortment of shredded cheese.

Potter was sitting on the couch next to Weaselete, chewing a piece of gum and had a beer in hand. Weasley and Granger had one as well and Weaselete had a soda. What got Draco was that Weaselete was massaging Harry's injured shoulder with a fist, loosening the muscles in his back. Potter seemed to be enjoying it, his muscles were relaxed and he made sighed in relief when Ginny hit a knot. It made Draco hot in the stomach for some reason.

"You really shouldn't be using your shoulder so soon after getting shot, Harry," scolded Granger. "You could hurt yourself again."

"I'm not using the shoulder, Hermione. It stayed against my side the entire exercise." Potter exclaimed as Weaselete pressed on a knot. "Geez, Ginny! Are you trying to kill me?"

"You have knots on knots, Harry. You should really see a chiropractor."

"Why when I have you?" Potter looked up to see Draco standing in the doorway. "Oh, hey, Malfoy. Supper's ready. Want a beer?"

"And a smoke," said Draco sitting down a bit away from the group.

"That isn't healthy," said Granger. "Just think of the cancers you could get, not to mention asthma, weak heart and lungs and the death rate…"

"I'm quitting, remember, Hermione," said Potter. "Here, chew these instead." He tossed Draco the pack of gum. Draco reluctantly took a piece and chewed.

"Who called," asked Weaselete politely. She had stopped rubbing Potter's back and was drinking her soda. Potter got up to serve the food.

"A friend. He was just telling me about what happened at school." It wasn't a complete lie. Blaise did tell him about the drawing with McGonagall.

"So, when are you leaving," asked Weasley arms crossed and leaning against the chair he was sitting in. Draco gave him a sarcastic smirk.

"Tomorrow. Then I can only see you in school."

"Thankfully," said Weasley as Potter passed out bowls of the pasta and handed Draco a beer. When Draco was served he took a tentative bite, all eyes on him.

"It's delicious," he said. "Did you cook, Granger?"

Granger shook her head. Next to her, Weasley shoved a meatball in his mouth and a bit of extra sauce fell off his chin. "Ron!" she hissed. Weasley smiled, picked up the napkin and wiped his chin and shirt. "Harry cooked. It's his recipe."

Draco looked at Potter in interest. "First breakfast, then lunch boxes, and now dinner," he said. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

Potter smiled at him as he drank. "I've still got one or two left," he said and Draco smiled back.

"I'll believe it."

TBC