Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling is the full owner.

A/N Enjoy the chapter, and forgive any grammar/spelling mistakes in advance.

Interesting Conversations.

A loud crack awoke Draco. Citrin was standing by his bed looking uncomfortable at having woken his master. But it seemed like he had something important to say, because his body was shaking slightly, as if he would need to punish himself if he would not relay a message or other.

"What is it, Citrin?" Draco asked tiredly, rubbing at his eyes in a very un-Malfoy like fashion.

"Mistress Malfoy is having requested Master Draco to breakfast, Sir."

Draco grumbled something unintelligible, and then with a start jumped up.

"What time is it, Citrin?" he asked, too worn-out to mutter a tempus charm.

"It is being half seven, Sir." Citrin said, his eyes wide and gleaming, happy to be of help to his Master.

Draco sighed, and unconsciously thanked Citrin. In three hours, he would be at Kings Cross Station, heading to Hogwarts for his eighth year. It was the first and last year such a thing would occur he was certain of that much.

A soft purr reached his ear, and with a start, he remembered he had someone new to take with him to Hogwarts. Orion settled himself on Draco's neck, and stared at him with soft green eyes. For a moment, Draco saw Potter looking back at him, and the close proximity startled him causing him to jump back, and Orion to hiss at the sudden movement. Draco blinked his eyes, annoyed at the reminder of Potter. He had better things to think of this early in the morning.

Citrin hadn't specified when his Mother wanted him down for breakfast, and he was about to call him back and ask, when he figured he'd dress up for the day, and however long that took, that was how long his Mother would wait.

Gently, he lifted Orion off his neck, petting him, and then deposited him on the bed so he'd be able to get dressed. Orion seemed to understand, and didn't cry; he merely watched his owner walk about the room getting ready.

As Draco knew it would, a fresh pair of clothes and robes was set up waiting for him to put on. But that would have to wait. A shower was in order. He opened the water, and let it roll down his body. The temperature was warm, almost hot just how he liked it. Normally, he would have liked to spend at least an hour, repeating everything at least twice, but his Mother was waiting, and he didn't want her to get annoyed. Even a little ticked off for tardiness was unacceptable. He didn't want to blame it on Citrin, since the latter hadn't even told him exactly when 'Mistress Malfoy' wanted his presence requested for breakfast; but if his Mother did get upset, he would do what was necessary to get him out of hot water.

The shower finished, he cast a quick drying charm on himself, and then moved to the bed, where his clothes and robes were still waiting. He donned them, making sure he looked impeccable. He did as usual. His shirt for the day was a white Italian button down, and a pair of black trousers, ironed to perfection. He eyed his school robes uncertainly, yes, today was the first day, but did his Mother expect him to wear formal robes to breakfast? Deciding his school robes were good enough, he put them on, and then looked in the mirror one last time, picking up his spare brush, and carding it through his hair.

A sudden crack made him turn around. He almost thought to take his wand out, but the wards around Malfoy Manor were so powerful, no one but a Malfoy could enter; unless otherwise invited.

It was Citrin.

"Is Master Draco ready? Mistress Malfoy is just reaching the table now; you is not wanting to upset her, Master Draco, Sir."

"Yes, Citrin; I will be down momentarily. Mother need not worry."

Citrin bowed, and with another pop, he was gone.

"Tempus," Draco muttered; the glowing numbers read half eight. With raised eyebrows, he stowed his wand back in his pocket, and began descending the stairs to where he knew his mother would be waiting.

His Mother, however, wasn't waiting for him like he'd first figured she would. With growing apprehension, he realized that would mean she was indeed at the table, waiting for him. It had only been about five minutes since Citrin had told him that his Mother had arrived, perhaps she wouldn't be too terribly upset.

He reached the dining area, breathing as normally as he could. He hadn't run, merely walked fast, and hoped his Mother would be too oblivious with his tardiness to care about his decorum. Her glare made it obvious she noticed both.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy." She hissed; her face clouded with anger. "You were told an hour ago, that I requested your presence at breakfast."

Draco quailed under the look, suddenly very pleased he had left Orion in his bedroom. His mother would have killed the little thing in an instant. He hated when his Mother treated him like he was five years old again. His father would have probably used the Cruciatus Curse on him; he flinched, hoping his Mother wouldn't take the same measures at him for being late even if it was nearly ten minutes.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp sting, and knew that was the punishment his Mother would be inflecting; how many times she would do it however, was beyond him. He didn't fight back. Narcissa Malfoy administered the stinging hex ten times, one hex per minute of lateness.

Draco was suddenly thankful he hadn't been any later. He was breathing harshly by the time she was done, and every part of his body hurt, though not as badly as it would have, had she taken the same measures his father would have. Gritting his teeth, he did what was expected and apologized.

"I do ask for forgiveness, Mother. I should not have been sluggish in preparing this morning."

"That's right, you shouldn't have." She snarled in response.

Draco lowered his eyes, and then everything came to a standstill. House Elves served breakfast, and Narcissa did not utter another word.

They ate quietly, nothing was said between them, and Draco wished then, that he had different parents. He would forego all the riches in the world, to be part of a family that would just smile if he came down late, and ask if he had a good sleep, rather than get cursed, because he had been a little bit tardy. But he knew that was impossible. He was a Malfoy through and through. People were afraid of him, he had taken the Dark Mark, and now he was considered tarnished. Perhaps not from anyone in Slytherin, but he knew that not many Slytherin's were returning for their eighth year. Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott, were the only two that he could think of that would bother returning. There would be more, but none close enough to him to have a heart to heart. He liked them well enough, and knew they tolerated him just as well. Being Purebloods always helped in the matter, as they understood many of the old traditions. As for the rest of the School…It wouldn't be easy, and he hated his Mother for being so withdrawn from his life.

The table had cleared when he had been lost in thought, and his Mother had left the table; again, without a word. He took that as his cue to leave. He stumbled up to his bedroom, and collapsed on his bed. Orion immediately jumped on his chest, and he smiled despite himself. He would go to Kings Cross early. He did not intend to stay here any longer than he had to.

He rested in his bed, letting the after effects of the stinging hex wear off. While he lay there thinking, he pointed his wand at his belongings, shrinking them. It was still early and if his Mother would see him leave, she would not directly think he was heading to Platform 9 and ¾. Maybe, when he didn't return, she'd realize, but he'd be long gone, and she couldn't be bothered to follow him. Therefore, he'd be safe.

He didn't bother casting a tempus charm as he put his shrunken trunk into the pocket of his robes. The time was still early, and he didn't need a clock to tell him that. He had no idea what time the Hogwarts Express arrived; only that it left at eleven. But certainly students arrived early all the time?

Tiptoeing, he descended the staircases once more, keeping a keen ear out for any noises and an eye out for anyone that would stop him; like his Mother. He was lucky, nobody saw him. The wards didn't worry him, he could leave, and no one would be alerted. He was a Malfoy, and he could enter and leave as he pleased. He was thankful for this now, as he stepped out into the pathway that led to the wrought iron gates.

Surreptitiously, he cast a silencing charm on the gates, so that it would not squeak when he entered.

Once on the other side of the gates, and out of the wards protections; he quickly thought of his destination, Kings Cross Station. With that in mind, he turned around, and apparated.

Kings Cross was full of people going about their daily business. He was still wearing his School Robes, and realized this with a start, as someone, probably a Muggle gave him a strange look. He took off on a quick trot, and headed for Platform 9 and ¾.

It was between Platforms' 9 and 10, and therefore wasn't too far away. He really should have just apparated straight to the outside of the platform, but with Muggle's constantly roaming around, he would have likely been spotted, and would need to obliviate someone.

He didn't get stared at again, and reached the Hogwarts Platform within minutes. Suddenly happy, he burst out into a run, and flew headlong into Platform 9 and ¾. The clock on one of the walls indicated that it was only Ten O'clock. A couple of families were there, preparing their younger children for the journey. But for the most part, the station was empty, and the Scarlet train was billowing smoke, as if ready to travel at any moment. Draco debated waiting on the Platform for someone familiar; or heading onto the train, and gathering a compartment for himself. The sun was shining brightly, and that made the decision for him. He had very pale skin, and being in the sun for too long caused his pale skin to flush an unnatural color. He was against that to an extreme degree. So, he trudged onto the train, and entered the first compartment, right at the beginning of the train. He leaned back, and closed his eyes. He was certain no one would bother him. Orion was curled around his neck and shoulders like he had the day before, and it comforted Draco; putting a peaceful aura around him. Within minutes, he was out.

A light knock awoke him from his doze. "Not now, Mother." He muttered, even though he knew his Mother wouldn't tolerate such disrespect. He was tired, dammit. The knock came again, more insistent this time. With a growl, he opened his eyes, only to realize he was on the Hogwarts Express.

Cursing, he sat up straight, conjured a mirror, and quickly checked over his appearances. He was surprised to see he still looked flawless. He vanished the mirror, and looked up to see who was at the door. He'd closed the curtain, and realized he would actually have to stand up. Lazy, he called out; "Who is it then?"

A slight pause, then "Harry Potter."

Draco raised his eyebrows, and actually stood up, languor forgotten. He opened the door, and stared at the tall, dark haired boy before him. "How'd you know I'm in here, Potter?" he asked, curiously, the curtain had been closed, after all. Had he missed something?

"Err…the curtain wasn't closed completely, and I saw that you were sitting here yourself…I thought perhaps you wanted company?"

"What about the Weasel and the mud- Muggle Born" he quickly corrected himself, before Potter got furious at him.

The only indication Potter gave to his slip, was a narrow of the eyes, but he let it go, and that surprised Draco immensely.

"They can do without my presence for a couple of hours, I'm sure." Potter replied, a slight twinkle in his eye. Since when did Potter's eyes bloody twinkle! He shook himself, and opened the door cautiously. Instead of walking in, like any Slytherin would have, Potter paused at the indecisiveness that was coming off of Draco. "If you'd rather I don't come in, I can sit elsewhere, Malfoy." Potter said softly.

Shooing his uncertainty away, he moved to the side and gestured Potter to come in.

"Make yourself at home, Potter." He drawled, and then sat down once more, opposite of Potter.

"I see that cat goes everywhere with you?" Potter questioned.

"Orion," Draco corrected him for the second time. Did the bloke have such a short term memory?

"Ah, yes, you mentioned that at the café."

"That I did." Draco said sullenly.

"So are you looking forward to 'Eighth Year'?" Potter asked, seeming to have forgotten that Draco hadn't answered his first question.

"Haven't we been through this?" Draco asked, wondering why Potter put up with him; after all, no one else did.

"I dunno, have we?" Potter replied, completely serious.

"Can't remember." Draco muttered.

"Ah, well then, the question still stands, you looking forward, or not?"

Potter's voice was bright, and cheerful, even though Draco's sounded tired, arrogant, and uninterested. Anyone else would have left already, and yet Potter stayed right where he was, neglecting his real friends, whom he usually sat with.

"Yes, I'm delighted to start another year at Hogwarts, where I don't have to worry about the Dark Lord using me for whatever cruel need he wants. Or perhaps tell me to kill people."

He heard Potter's breath hitch in his throat, and couldn't help but roll his eyes. Potter had asked, after all, it couldn't be helped if the boy who lived couldn't handle the truth. His curiosity finally getting better of him, he lowered his voice, and stared straight into Potter's eyes. The latter wasn't good with putting his emotions behind a mask, and he'd be able to read anything just from the eyes.

"What are you doing here Potter, I know we said we'd try and be friends…but, don't you have anything better to do, then sit around with a death eater and talk about School?"

"Ex Deatheater," Potter said automatically, his gaze hardening. "Voldemort is dead. You don't need to worry about that anymore. And no, I want to talk to you, I want to know the side that you hide from everyone, because you are afraid of what they may think of you when you let down that façade of yours. I know better. You have a soul, you're not a heartless bastard. And I know if I try hard enough, one day, you'll let me in, and we'll be true friends."

Draco raised his eyebrows, startled. For a moment, his mask came down, and shock could be seen written all over his face, and before he could cover it up again, Potter said:

"See, I told you, everyone has emotions. You may hide behind them, but that doesn't mean that you don't feel."

"That's very Hufflepuff of you, Potter." Draco said, coughing to hide how uncomfortable he felt. No one had ever pushed him like Potter was pushing. No one had ever bothered trying to read behind that mask that he had so effortlessly hid behind for seven years. And here Potter comes, with all his Hufflepuff talk, and all of a sudden, Draco was helpless with his mask. That wouldn't do.

With an effort, he closed himself off, and made his eyes go cold. "Perhaps you are right, Potter. But now that you have made me aware of it, I will make sure to double my efforts of my 'façade' as you so eloquently call it."

All Potter did was sigh, and lean back into the soft cushion's the train had to offer. Draco followed suit, closing his eyes once more.

Silence prevailed in the compartment the two boys were sitting in. An hour passed, and then two, and still, nobody said anything. An interruption was what it took, as the trolley came by with all the sweets on it.

Draco watched with a smirk as Potter jumped up, shuffling through his pockets, and taking out some coins, he muttered something to the witch, and then came back with an armful of sweets. Draco's eyes bugged. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out "What the fuck do you need so many sweets for?"

Potter coloured, and then mumbled, "I was going to share it with you, git."

Draco's mouth opened, as if to reply, but nothing came out.

"It's not so uncommon to share, Malfoy, you should know that."

Draco couldn't contain the blush that crawled up his neck, and moved to his pale cheeks. "Not in my world," he mumbled, contrite.

"Makes sense," Potter shrugged his shoulders, and layed out everything he had purchased on the seat next to him, so Draco can have his pick.

Draco looked everything over, and finally deciding on some cauldron cakes. "Thanks," he mumbled, though not very loudly. He didn't say thank you. It felt so bloody wrong. Potter just shrugged again, and went on to eating some of the other candies.

Suddenly curious, he asked "What do you plan on doing once you leave school?"

Potter seemed taken aback by the question, "Well, originally, I wanted to be an Auror, but now, I'm not so sure"

Draco was impressed. "Very nice, Potter."

Potter grinned, and took a bite out of a Bertie Botts Every Flavor Bean. Draco watched, hoping Potter would choke on a horrible flavor. He didn't even swallow before he started gagging, his face turning a horrible green color.

"Vomit flavor." Potter explained, gulping down some ice-cold pumpkin juice, before his face returned to normal colour. Draco couldn't stop sniggering.

"Yeah, laugh all you like, Malfoy. But until you try one…."

Draco gulped. "No way; I'm not going there…"

Potter's eyes brighterned, and a gleam of mischief entered the emerald orbs. "I dare you."

Draco's mouth opened and closed, similar to a fish. "How- you – ARGH! I hate you Potter!" he burst out, glaring. Potter merely smirked, looking very Slytherin. He held out the box and waited for Draco to take one. Draco refused, keeping his hands at his sides; his face an angry look of defense.

"Hmm, I didn't know Slytherin's were cowards." Potter murmured looking at his nails. A second later, his sight was blurred as his glasses went flying, and suddenly, Draco was nearly straddling him, holding his neck firmly against the train seats. "Slytherin's are never cowards, Potter." He whispered into Potter's ear, his voice deadly. He took great pleasure in noticing Potter shiver.

He retreated, and then keeping his eyes on Potter's took a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean. He kept his face stoic, but was extremely relieved when it tasted like Strawberry. "There you go, Potter. We're even." Potter's face blanched, but he said nothing. His grin was wiped off his face, and a white pallor replaced it.

"What's with you?" Draco asked, though he didn't really want to know. He had proved he wasn't cowardly, and that was all that mattered. The conductor had already said they were approaching Hogwarts, and he wanted to be rid of Potter, no matter how much of a civil conversation they had.

"Nothing, just a little nauseas."

Draco shrugged, and stood up, straightening his robes, and fixed his hair subconsciously.

"You leaving?" Potter asked, looking up from his hands.

"Not yet, just making sure I'm clean and keeping up my Malfoy name." he responded, and then slapped a hand to his mouth as he realized what he'd said. "Don't repeat that," Draco said, before Potter interrupted with "Don't worry, Malfoy."

Silence reigned once more, and Draco wondered if a friendship between the two of them was really possible. They were enemies for six years, and perhaps something else when Potter had saved his life. He owed a life debt to the other man, but he never claimed it. Not yet, anyway.

The Hogwarts Express screeched to a halt, and suddenly the corridors of the train were filled with excited chatter, and laughter.

Draco didn't wait for Potter as he stood up, and exited the train. He had only nodded, but he felt that nothing more was necessary. They would see each other in a few minutes in the Great Hall. Saying an elaborate good bye was completely pathetic, and if Potter expected it, he would keep waiting.

The first years were sorted, and the meal served. Draco took a little bit of everything, and ate quietly, while he looked around for familiar people. He was sitting next to Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott, but other than that, no other male Slytherin's from the previous year had re-attended. When dessert had appeared on the table, Headmistress McGonagall tapped a glass and called for attention.

The hall quieted down, though most of the students continued eating their deserts.

"This year, we'd like to welcome last year's seventh years."

The applause was minimal as not many cared that extra students were there. McGonagall continued. "This year, there will be a special program for those of you who are in Sixth Year and above, and if you take Muggle Studies. There were some moans and groans and a sixth year boy from Ravenclaw raised his hand.

"Mr. Bloom?"

"If we do not take Muggle Studies may we begin taking it?" he asked his voice clear and carrying. There were a few titters from the crowd, but no one dared make a noise too loud, for McGonagall could be strict with punishments if students got too out of hand.

McGonagall pursed her lips, but they were turned up in a slight smile. "If you take Muggle Studies this year, because of the special program, you will need to take it for next year as well." Bloom nodded his head, and Professor McGonagall continued. "As you all know, the Forbidden Forest is forbidden to all students, and anyone caught near it will earn a severe punishment. A list of rules and regulations can be found on Mr. Filch's door. The announcement of what exactly this special program is, will be pronounced in a couple of weeks, if you still want to join Muggle Studies, even though you do not know what this special program is, feel free."

A murmur went through the students at this, and a few people could be heard saying 'cool,' and 'that sounds like a good idea.'

Draco rolled his eyes. He was already taking Muggle Studies. He had originally done it for spite, but then actually began to find the class fascinating, as it described how exactly Muggles managed to live without magic. It sounded like such an amazing thing to him, how people survived without being able to flick a wand, or just do things they did every day. And House Elves! Imagine living without those! He shuddered at the thought, and realized they were dismissed.

He got up, and together with Blaise and Theo, headed towards the Slytherin Common Room.

Just as he passed the Gryffindor table, he saw Potter staring at him. He sauntered past, and pretended not to notice.

The fire blazed sharply, as the three Eighth Year Slytherin boys spoke quietly amongst themselves. Nobody bothered them, and most of the Common Room cleared out pretty quickly. Some seventh years were there, making fun of the fact that people would join Muggle Studies just to be part of a special program. Although Draco was already part of Muggle Studies, he felt his face flush nonetheless. He was a Slytherin after all. Even after the war, a lot of Pureblood familes still harbored ill feelings towards the Muggleborns, some even hating Halfbloods.

Draco shook himself out of his reverie and listened into the conversation his friends were having.

"….so I realized something was off…and well, I think I might be attracted to blokes." Theo said, his voice low and upset.

Draco felt his mouth drop open. That was so not what he expected to hear from his friend. He was straight of course, but Slytherin's always 'experimented' with their peers. It was a known thing, and if Theo wanted to experiment, he hoped it would be a long time coming before Theo would think to pick him to experiment on; if at all.

"Wow." Was all Draco could muster out. Blaise was speechless; Draco didn't blame him. Although it wasn't unheard of to have the random queer, most people in the Wizarding World were straight, and followed the standard traditions. Especially Purebloods; but Draco didn't say this aloud; instead, he said, "Since when have you known this, Nott?"

Theo looked at him uncertain, and then said in a gruff voice: Since I had a relationship over the summer with a girl, fucked her nearly every day, and just never thought it worth my time. It was a good lay, of course, but it wasn't something I would pursue again."

Draco and Blaise nodded, but Draco didn't go near experimenting; he was afraid to know Theo's answer, and Blaise seemed to be thinking along the same lines because he kept silent.

Draco leaned back in the chair and slipped into his own thoughts. He hadn't heard from his mother; he wasn't surprised though. She probably found his room empty, and did either of three things. Yelled till she was hoarse, (though that was terribly un-Malfoy like) was saddened, because her son did not say good bye before leaving (he highly doubted this, as his mother's good bye gift was hexing him until he hurt. Or lastly, didn't even notice he was gone in the first place. (This was the most likely possibility. His mother was into herself, her pride, and her name. All she cared about was getting her name fixed, and back into society. His mother was one of the more terrible Slytherin's.

A clock struck twelve somewhere in the castle and the three Slytherin's looked at each other at the same time. Classes started tomorrow, and it would be a long day. Like one, they got up, and headed towards an unused room in the dungeons, that were made special for the Eighth Year boys. It was still close to the other rooms, but it was more private. He assumed the same thing was done for the girls. And being that not many Eighth Years returned; it was probably done to all the houses as well.

They entered the rooms, and were pleased with how it looked. The room was spacious, as only three boys were to be occupying it. Orion was on Draco's bed napping, and the latter was very happy to see the little kitten.

"Brought yourself a feline, did ya?" Blaise said smirking.

"Don't you already have a hawk owl?" Theo asked, suspicion and glee laced in his voice.

"I snuck it in," Draco replied shrugging. "I believe only one pet is allowed per person, but technically, an owl isn't exactly a 'pet' so if anyone asks….I do have a worthy excuse." He smirked and the other boys shook their heads, leering at him. He grinned in return, and began undressing, almost forgetting that Theo was into blokes. He was nearly naked before he remembered. He turned around to hide himself, though he wasn't self-conscious at all. Theo coughed, but Draco didn't turn around until he was wearing an appropriate amount of clothes, which for him, consisted of green silk pajama bottoms. He didn't care to wear a top, even if Theo was gay.

Finally, he faced the other boys, and while Blaise was busy preparing for bed, Theo was staring at him, his eyes glazed. "You..err..have a nice body Malfoy." He wanted to sneer, but knew there was absolutely no point. From what he'd seen when he left the Great Hall, enough people glared at him, some with malice, and some with such hatred, he'd recoiled; and therefore, he wasn't going to lose the couple of friends he did have, that were not loathe to look at him.

"So I've been told," he grinned cockily.

Theo's breath caught in his throat, and Draco wacked him upside the head laughing.

"Good night Zabini, Nott." He said before laying down in bed, and drawing the curtains around mumbled responses, but he paid no attention. If Theo was attracted to him, he didn't know what he'd do. He hoped Theo wouldn't push him, because then he'd lose a valuable friend, and he certainly wasn't keen on that.

Orion curled himself on Draco's chest, and stared at him with doe like eyes. For the second time, the eyes reminded him of Harry Potter, and he cursed himself for being stupid enough to buy a cat with emerald orbs.

A/N this chapter took most of the day to write. I do hope you will find minimal grammar/spelling mistakes, because I did look over every couple of paragraphs, but if I did miss something, feel free to point it out, however, if it isn't disastrous, I will not go back and change it, because it's a big bother to delete and re-add a chapter.

So far, this story has been in Draco's point of view. I find it easier to write him. However, I take comments and suggestions into consideration, and if a lot of you want me to write parts of the chapter, or an entire chapter alone in Harry's POV I will try to oblige you. All you need to do is ask.

Lastly, I was very pleased that six of you took the time to review the story, and so many of you already favorited and alerted. I do hope to get more readers, and more reviewers.

Unlike in MITTC the story will jump from time frame to time frame, (a week at a time, a few days at a time..etc.) It will make the story flow better in my opinion.

See you next chapter.