A/N: Before I start, I thank you all for the reviews. Unfortunately, I got a dose of Reality yesterday: I was forced to leave my room! *collective gasp* I know, friends, I know. Such a sad thing the world is coming to: people leaving their rooms, going OUTSIDE… *sigh* Such is the penance of attempted perpetual solitude. Now, let's get down to business.

Also, I don't know if I said this, but Harry will start getting way OOC in this chapter, no longer the naïve pawn, but now more self-assured and confident, borderline-arrogant, but not that stupid.

'thoughts'

"dialogue"

~parseltongue~

{mind-speak to familiars}

~~~~-scene change-~~~~

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter 5

Shops and Crushes

With that, Harry Apparated away.

Just before the CRACK! he heard Griphook murmur, "Blank your mind and build walls from your thoughts."

As soon as Harry landed at the mouth of Diagon Alley, he was bombarded by noise. Tons of voices, all screaming random things in his head.

'Ooooh, the new Firebolt!' 'It's Harry Potter!' 'I wonder if mum will get me some new robes…' 'A sale at Madame Malkin's! Wonderful!' 'OH MERLIN, it's the Boy-Who-Lived! Why is he holding his head?' 'The Apothecary ran out of Veela hair? Hmm, I'll check Knockturn Alley' 'Ollivander's is way too expensive! Twenty galleons for a wand!' 'Look, Harry Potter's collapsed!'

A migraine was coming on fast, and there was nothing Harry could do except for lay there, useless from his pain and the thoughts that were not his. Harry vaguely remembered Griphook saying something just before he left.

'He said something about my mind. It must be important. Black your mind? No, hmm, flank your mind? Bank your mind? No no no no no! Uh, it was blank? Blank your mind? YES! That's it.'

Ever so slowly, Harry began to sort the thoughts of others away from his. Gradually, his headache began to recede enough s his thoughts weren't so crowded. Harry was able to sort the thoughts that weren't his into a corner of his mindscape.

Harry's mindscape looked like the room that Harry had found the Mirror of Erised in in his first year, with the mirror with the reflection of him and his parents on it, images from disorganized memories swirling around them. All around the room, the walls were covered in writing and vivid pictures, memories and facts that he did not want to forget. All he had to do when he wanted to remember something was escape into his mindscape and write or draw it on the wall. The best thing about Harry's mindscape, was that it was so disorganized that only Harry could navigate through it. If someone tried Legilimency on him, they would go mad trying to find what they were looking for in his mind. One corner of the room now had writing upon it that kept changing. This was where Harry had put the thoughts of the others. Harry went through the mirror, into the more disorganized part of his mindscape, the part where Harry kept all of the memories that didn't go on the walls. He eventually found the memory of leaving Gringott's just a few minutes ago, and strained his ears to hear what Griphook had said.

"Blank your mind and build walls from your thoughts."

So, Harry found the mirror again and exited through it. Quickly, Harry went to the corner that housed his Natural Legilimency and began writing things he remembered seeing in the mirror in the air, forming new walls. After the walls had formed, Harry did one last thing: he marked them Not My Thoughts so he would always know where his Legilimency was.

With that, Harry walked through the door and out of his mindscape. When he opened his eyes, he was greeted by a crowd of people with worried countenances. It seemed as though everyone in his vicinity in Diagon Alley had crowded around him to see to the health of their Savior. He smiled a smile that could make witches and most wizards faint from his newfound looks. He got to his feet, gracefully, and said, "I am fine. Just a bit dizzy, that's all." He flashed the crowd another disarming smile, and politely excused himself. As he moved, the crowd parted itself to make way for him.

Harry moved into an empty, dark alley. He waited for the crowd to dissipate, and, when it had, he moved back into Diagon Alley. As he walked down the road, he began thinking about why he had come here. He walked past Madame Malkin's and thought to himself that he needed a new wardrobe. Just before he opened the door, a new shop just to the left caught Harry's attention. It was a hair stylist and tattoo parlor. Harry paused at the door to Madame Malkin's and waited pensively, thinking about changing his appearance some. As Harry thought, the idea of a somewhat "bad-boy" look became more enticing.

Decision made, Harry put on his glamours, walked into the shop and waited at the counter. The shop was decorated in black paint, black drapes obscuring the outside world. On the walls sat pictures, which Harry assumed to be tattoo designs.

After a couple of minutes, a girl with blue-green hair came out from the back. She was wearing a black spaghetti-strap tank-top. Her arms were decorated with various tattoos. She had deep blue eyes and a nose-piercing. When she looked at him, her eyes widened as she realized who was in the shop.

"Hello, I would lie to get some highlights, a few tattoos, and probably a piercing or two as well."

For a moment, she was struck dumb by what Harry had said, but she quickly recovered. She smiles and said, "What is it you would like, sir?"

When Harry was done, he had chosen a slithering snake that went from around his neck, down his torso and right arm to his wrist, where is seemed to be sinking it fangs into his vein; a lion on his left breast that ran around his chest some; a raven and a badger on his should blades; the mark of the Deathly Hallows on his left wrist; and a Hungarian Horntail on his right thigh. He also got faint green and silver highlights in his waist-length hair, a stud in his left ear, five small loops along the shell of his right, and a tongue piercing that accentuated the slight hissing tone of his voice.

The witch handed him a mirror so he could look at the new additions. While he perused them, he smiled appreciatively, which turned into a smirk as he noticed the witch eying him with the same appreciate glint in her eyes, as he was not wearing a shirt. Harry got up and made to put his shirt on, the small glint of disappointment in the witch's eyes not going unnoticed. Harry paid her for her services, and left the shop, going into Madame Malkin's. He was immediately greeted by the woman who asked what he needed.

"Madame Malkin, I am severely deprived: I need a full wardrobe, everything from undergarments to outer ones. Alas, I have no sense of fashion, so any help you could provide in picking these things out for me would be greatly appreciated."

"Potter! What are you doing in here?' Harry heard from the doorway in a slightly arrogant tone.

"Buying a wardrobe Draco, what does it look like?"

"It's about damn time. The clothes you've always worn never seemed to fit you. I, on the other hand, have an excellent fashion sense, which you obviously do not. And where are your glasses?"

Harry had been so wrapped up in the excitement of the day that he had not notice that he was not wearing his glasses.

"Alas, Draco, those rags I have been forced to wear are not mine, but those of my whale sized cousin, because my muggle family does not deign me important enough to spend money on," Harry replies, completely ignoring the last question.

"Sure, Potter. I bet it is just another one of your schemes just to get attention."

"If I was scheming to be in rags, Draco, why would I be here to buy a wardrobe? As it happens, Draco, your arrival is most opportune: I have noticed our rather fashionable, and sexy, if I do say so myself, clothes, and was wondering if I could please enlist your assistance in getting myself new clothes?"

Draco was slightly taken aback by Potter's compliment and request, yet he kept his mask firmly in place. He thought about how this might have been a trap, yet Potter could never lie, so it must have been genuine. Slowly, he decided, "Sure, Potter. I would never pass up the opportunity to buy someone things with their own money."

Harry ended up spending nearly three hours in the shop with Madame Malkin taking his measurements and Draco picking fabrics and colors. Harry ended up with a full wardrobe, with form-fitting outfits that accentuated his muscles and stature. Harry dressed in one of his new outfits and pointes his wand at Whale Jr.'s clothes. A murmured "Incendio" and the clothes were set ablaze.

When they left the shop, Harry grabbed Draco's arm and walked him down to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Harry ordered a giant bowl of chocolate ice cream, and Draco ordered a more moderate serving of strawberry. They sat down together after Harry paid and a light conversation ensued.

After a few minutes, Draco relaxed a bit. "Why are you being so nice, Potter?"

"I learned today which people I could trust, and which I couldn't."

"So what? You can trust me?"

"I'd like to think so, Draco," and Harry thrust out his hand, silently asking Draco to take it like Draco had wanted him to on the train. "I was stupid not to take your hand, Draco. I was being manipulated by Dumblefuck into the perfect little Savior. I am sorry that I rejected you, and if you can forgive me, I ask the same thing you did on that train ride."

Draco thought of the implications: how being friend to Harry Potter would affect his family, servants to the Dark Lord. "Are you sure, Harry? It seems common knowledge that we are a Dark family, servants to the Dark Lord."

"First, you are not his servants, you are Voldemort's, for now. Second, I realize that Dark is not evil."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You will find out eventually."

Slowly, Draco reached out and took Harry's hand. "I hope this is not a mistake."

"It isn't, Draco."

They talked for a while, and then Draco jokingly asked, "Is this a date or something, Potter?"

Harry looked up a Draco, with a serious, no-nonsense expression. "I do wish you would call me Harry. And yes, it is."

A/N: I know I said this would be out yesterday, but Reality is a bitch. I mean, seriously, LEAVING YOUR ROOM? Who does that anymore? Oh well, those are the woes of recluses.

What do you think of harry dining head-first into talking to Draco? Do you think it was too OOC? Thoughts? Reviews are most welcome… *nudge, nudge, wink, wink*

Next chapter: Draco's reaction and living arrangements.

Review? Please?