Draco paled slightly. Only his training as a Malfoy heir kept him from losing his composure. His father noticed this, and raised an eyebrow. What this meant, Draco couldn't fathom. The only reassurance Draco had was the fact that Malfoys did not have "scenes" with their offspring in public. Malfoys always presented a unified front. Lucius pursed his lips in thought at Draco, then made a split second decision, turning to Gregory.

"Mr. Nott, I don't know who you are referring to, but I am convinced it is not my son. As I recall, both you and your younger brother Theodore are prone to…stretching the truth. Perhaps you remember that disgraceful incident in which you tried to impress a muggle girl by detailing exactly how magic worked…as I seem to recall, you tried to convince your father that you were simply trying to terrorize the girl. Your father may have believed this, but I do not, especially after I've seen you with that same girl upon several occasions engaged in, rather amorous activities. I am well aware that you are envious of my son for his prestige and the respect he commands. Rather than attempting to jeopardize his position as the most respected pureblood heir, you should learn from him. Draco studies hard, and is careful to uphold the Malfoy Code. He wouldn't associate with someone unless it was beneficial to the family in some way. Perhaps you could learn from my son, and keep away from Muggle girls, and from these appalling lies." Lucius turned his back on the elder Nott brother in a clear dismissal. To Draco, he said "I assume since it is nearly ten o'clock that you wish to bid me goodnight?" at Draco's nod, Lucius smiled "Very well. Good Night, Draco. I see your mother is looking for you. If you hurry, you can wish her good night as well."

Draco hurried off to find his mother. After kissing her cheek, he made his way out of the room. As he neared the doorway, he saw the massive forms of Crabbe and Goyle senior beginning to push the heavy oak doors of the Hall closed. He ran to make it, and was almost closed in. However, a final burst of speed allowed him to rush through before the doors closed. Knowing what went on behind those closed doors was a privilege a young witch or wizard gained upon coming of age, as the closed doors brought to mind secret rituals and fantastic ceremonies. Draco pressed his ear to the door. In the room, the noise at times became overwhelming. Listening at the door, however, suggested the room was empty. Realizing that there was truly no way to figure out what the adults were up to, Draco made his way quickly to his room, where Blaise and Daphne were spending the night.

"What took you so long?" cried Daphne as Draco made his way into the room "I've had to put up with this one for way too long! I think I've been losing brain cells by the second!" She stuck her tongue out at Blaise, who threw a pillow at her. The pillow flew past her head, and thumped Draco's chest. Draco arched an eyebrow. "Are you children finished?" He demanded "Some of us have things to do. Sleep, perhaps?" Daphne groaned.

"Oh don't get all 'I'm a Malfoy which means I can't pal around with my best friends' with me, buster! I'll have you know I had to get special permission from my mother to get to stay here overnight. My father might not care about the pureblood rituals, but my mother certainly does! I don't plan to sleep a wink this whole evening, because this might be the last time I'm with my friends until I get back to Hogwarts. I love my mother and all, but that much togetherness just makes me shudder. I don't know what I'd have done if Father hadn't taken me to Germany with him!"

"Died, probably," muttered Blaise "and what a pity that would've been" Daphne turned a murderous glare on Blaise, who quickly added "Kidding! Kidding! Geez, Daph, can't you take a joke?"

"Daph-NEE" enunciated Daphne primly "My name is Daphne Greengrass, so none of your nonsense about 'Daph' thanks." Blaise scowled.

"Why doesn't Draco get that little speech? And come to think of it, why do you get to call him Dray? I get a load of drivel every time I try to give him a nickname!" He frowned "and don't you start thinking you get to call me 'Blay" or something equally ridiculous. Blaise isn't hard to say, and thus counts as a nickname in and of itself."

Draco and Daphne looked at Blaise as if he had two heads. "And don't look at me like that, either!" cried Blaise, "It's bad enough you two are so chummy, now you have to rub my nose in it by acting eerily similar!" Daphne and Draco looked at one another, and in perfect synch, turned their gazes back to Blaise. "So?" They chorused. Blaise jumped up and ran screaming from the room.

"What a silly boy," said Daphne calmly. "You'd think he'd never met twin Souls before." She giggled "He's probably never heard of them, either." Draco frowned.

"No offense, Daph, but I'll only ever think of you as a sister, not, you know, in a cooties kind of way." Daphne giggled "A cooties way? Like as a girlfriend? Eeww…Draco, don't you know what twin souls are?" at his frown, she continued "This is part of what my father was studying while in Germany. The German purebloods are big believers in the concept of twin souls. Probably the best way for me to explain this is for me to start in the beginning.

"You've obviously heard of soul mates, right? Well, for every soul, there is a soul mate. Somewhere out in the world is a person with a soul that is almost the opposite to yours, the 'yin' to your 'yang' so to speak. Some are lucky enough to find their soul mates, some aren't. Even if you don't find your soul mate, you sometimes find someone who's soul fits almost as perfectly, and you can live your life with that person completely happy. Just, you know, not as happy as if you'd found your real soul mate.

"Anyways, for a fairly select few, there are also (in addition to soul mates) twin souls. Twin souls exactly match. Sometimes, the twin souls are born as actual twins, like the Patils, or those dreadful Weasels (Gred and Forge, or whatever). Other times, as I suspect it is with us, the twin souls are born at the exact same time in different families. As with soul mates, if you don't meet your twin soul, you can live a very happy life. However, a twin soul can become a very close friend, like we are now. I would go as far as to say that you're my best friend. I don't know for sure that we're twin souls, but after the research my father did in Germany, I definitely suspect that that is the case with us." She took a deep breath. "Did all that make sense to you?"

Draco was silent for a few minutes, thinking. "Yeah, I guess so. Does this mean you'd be attracted to MY soul mate, and vice versa?" Daphne looked surprised.

"I'd never thought of that. I'm sure not. I think there'd be some physical factor, like maybe I prefer blondes, and you prefer brunettes, which is why we wouldn't go for the same 'soul' despite the soul being a theoretical match. I don't really know, though. I'll have to ask my father." She frowned in thought for a second, before her visage relaxed and she smiled at him, shyly "You wouldn't mind if we were twin souls?"

"Why would I mind? I can't think of anyone I'd rather be a twin with!" Draco smiled at her insecurity. He knew the girl sometimes felt a little left out when he was with Blaise, because the two boys had been friends for much longer than Draco had even known Daphne. "So how do we figure out for certain if we are twin souls?"

"Well," said Daphne, "There are certain things. For one, we share some mannerisms, and we seem to think about things the same way. Something we can try is, erm, this ritual the Germans do. It's slightly barbaric, and it could be Dark Magic, but…" she trailed off.

"Go on…at least tell me what it is!" implored Draco impatiently.

"Well, it's really really simple. All you have to do is slice your left palms, and hold them together. If, after the ritual, you have a heightened awareness of the other, then you really are twin souls. However, though the ritual is specific enough, the results are rather vague. I don't know what would happen if we weren't twins, and I don't know how strong our "heightened awarenesses" of one another would be."

Draco thought for a minute "Well, if we were to do this ritual, tonight would be a good time. I mean, it's midsummer, so it's the perfect night for magic. We're in a house full of adult wizards, so it's unlikely the Ministry would notice if we accidently used magic or something, and our parents won't see us until tomorrow, which means by then it'd be too late to stop us, and we'd have had a chance to get used to whatever the effects are before we're separated for the rest of the summer." He paused "That is, if you want to."

Daphne didn't hesitate "I want to." She watched as Draco went to his desk and took out a magnificent pocket knife. He rarely used it, so he knew it would be sharp. Best of all, its case was charmed to sterilize the knife as it was pulled from the holder. He made his way back to the bed where Daphne sat, looking nervous, but excited. "Are you ready?" Draco asked, looking into her eyes to make sure that she was absolutely prepared.

"I think so," replied Daphne, eyeing the knife a bit nervously. "I remember that I'm going to have to slice your palm, and you're going to have to slice mine. Do you want to go first, or second?" Draco thought for a second. If he sliced her palm first, she'd have to endure the pain while she cut his palm. "I'll let you cut my palm first" he decided. He held out his hand, determined not to let it shake and betray his nervousness. Daphne took his left hand and gently turned it palm side up. She lay the hand in her lap while she unsheathed the knife. She then took a hold of his hand again, and carefully cut a three inch diagonal line from his pointer finger to the heel of his palm. As his cut began to bleed, Draco took her hand, and mimicked the slice on her soft palm, wincing at the pain he knew he was causing her. Quickly, they pressed their palms together. A blinding flash ensued, and the two blacked out.

"Draco? Your house is humongous! I got lost on the way to the kitchens, and wandered around until I stumbled upon Dobby who—Draco? Daphne?" Blaise rushed over to his friends' unconscious forms. He paled when he saw a bloody knife beside Draco's bed, but a quick check showed no blood on either of the young mages. He noticed, however, identical scars on the pair's palms. Blaise didn't know what to make of this, and was about to panic, when Draco said sleepily "Food." Daphne rolled over, and would have fallen off the bed had Draco (without rousing from his stupor) not shot out his arm to keep her from rolling off. Daphne sat up.

"Oh, hello Blaise. Did you say you were in the kitchens? Did you bring back food? No? Will you go get food? Please?" For some reason, Blaise couldn't think of a single reason to say no to the sleepy witch, and made his way back to the door. He called for Dobby, and asked for some food from the banquet. Dobby disappeared with a crack. When Blaise turned back around, Draco was checking Daphne over. For reasons beyond Blaise's comprehension, this annoyed him immensely. Blaise wrote off these bizarre emotions as simple jealousy. He was simply jealous that Draco had another friend upon whom he could rely as much as on Blaise.

On the bed, Draco couldn't believe the situation. He realized that the moment of their bonding (which was the only thing he could think to call what had just happened) was at the stroke of midnight. Blaise hadn't returned until around two o'clock (he must have been dreadfully lost) which means the pair had been unconscious for two hours. Draco had already checked, and noticed that his cut was now a scar, and didn't hurt. Luckily, the scar was extremely flexible, and didn't hinder the use of his left hand at all. Draco checked Daphne over to see if there was anything different about her. He noticed no immediate changes about the girl—the same deep blue eyes and golden brown hair that he had always associated with her. Daphne met his eyes, and he noticed that her eyes had silver flecks he'd never noticed before. Daphne's eyes narrowed.

"You have blue flecks in your eyes…have you always had blue flecks?" she sounded perplexed. This must be a part of the ritual, or something. I'll have to ask my father.

"I haven't, but that's a good idea," said Draco "You ask your father, and tell me what he says. You have silver flecks in your eyes." Daphne stared at him wide eyed "What?" Draco almost snapped. I hate when people look at me like I'm crazy.

"Draco, I didn't say anything about asking my father, that's why I'm looking at you like you're crazy. I'm sorry, I didn't realize you hated it so much." It was Draco's turn to stare.

"Umm, just so you know, I feel like a total third wheel…and the food's here" cut in Blaise. "What's going on, exactly?"

"We're hearing one another's thoughts" said Draco baldly "We're twin souls, and we performed a ritual bonding us in blood as well as spirit." Daphne sent a reproving glance at Draco. Did you have to say it like that? Draco, the poor boy has no context for understanding what you're saying!

Why don't you explain it to him, then! You did a fine job with me… Draco thought back.

"Fine, I will!" Daphne shot at Draco. She turned to Blaise. Why don't I explain this to you while we're eating?

As it turned out, it was a good thing Draco and Daphne bonded when they did. The next morning, the two presented themselves to Daphne's father and explained what they had done. The man was surprised, because he'd never heard of non-sibling twin souls meeting so young. He explained to them the difficulties arising from twin bonding—the fact that your twin could hear your thoughts, the fact that when one twin felt pain, the other felt it as well, and so on. He recommended several books for Draco to study over the summer so that the bond could be controlled. According to Daphne's father, with practice, a twin bond would could be "opened" or "shut" depending on the situation. For now, he said, it was a good thing for both their sakes that they would be many miles apart, diluting the bond for the summer, as close proximity in untrained wizards so soon after a bonding would lead to absolutely no privacy for both parties.

The guests departed from the gala in a steady stream that only tapered off mid morning. Draco's parents immediately went into their bedroom to catch up on their sleep, leaving the house elves to do the clean up (while it was traditional for the Malfoy Matriarch to set up for the gala, there were no tradition regarding the cleanup). Draco was left on his own for several hours, during which he worked on homework, and, when that got boring, started reading the books Mr. Greengrass had recommended. When early evening arrived and there was still no sign of Draco's parents, he made his way to the broom shed. Draco quickly pulled out an old broom and began flying around the estate, swooping and spinning. It was the first time all summer he'd flown simply for the pleasure of it, instead of for Quidditch training. He flipped a switch on the side of the shed, and a series of enchanted rings appeared all around the estate. His father had set the enchantment so that Draco could earn pocket money directly relating to how quickly he completed the course. This was, of course, a father's way of making sure Draco kept up his speed and maneuverability for Quidditch season.

Every time Draco set a new time, the enchantment told his father, who then gave Draco 10 galleons. As Draco got older, beating the best time got harder. Last summer, Draco had only set a new record three times. This summer, his father had added rings, and told Draco he would earn 20 galleons for every new best time. Draco flew around the estate for two hours, but he was still three tenths of a second away from setting a new record. He returned to the shed, cleaned and polished the broom, then showered before heading back up to the Manor. He arrived just as his parents made their way downstairs for dinner. The three sat at the dinner table in relative silence, enjoying the quiet after a night of revelry and excitement. After the dessert had finished (a fresh raspberry sorbet in delicate chocolate goblets), Narcissa rose from the table to go write letters thanking her guests for the previous evening. As Draco rose to try to sneak off to his room, Lucius stood, saying "I think we have some things to discuss, Draco. Would my study be a suitable location for our conversation?" It was not a request.

Draco sat nervously in a leather armchair across from his father. Between them lay the Malfoy chess set, the most opulent chess set in the world. Each piece was set with precious stones, and each square of the board was worth more than the Greengrass household (although Draco would never tell Daphne this). The Chess set had been a gift to the Malfoy family from Merlin himself (or so the Malfoys told their guests). Chess was an important game for the Malfoy family for the strategy and tactical skills it imparted on the players. This chess set, unlike the current wizarding chess sets, did not employ the barbaric tactics of smashing the opponent's pieces. Instead, when a piece was taken, the piece melted into the board itself. Each time the board reset, the pieces were slightly different, another reason the Malfoy chess set was unique in all the world.

As the game went on, Lucius showed no signs of beginning the conversation. It was only as his Bishop took Draco's Queen that Lucius spoke for the first time since the game began. "Draco, I would like to know the truth behind Gregory Nott's rumor mongering. As I've taught you, even the wildest falsehoods begin with a grain of truth." Lucius looked at Draco with neutrality. The fact that his father's face did not display outright anger gave Draco the courage to reply.

"I met Harry Potter for the first time before I even knew who he was," he began, "and he fascinated me." Draco waited for a response. When none was forthcoming, he continued "I mean, he was the first person I'd ever met without you meeting him or her first and approving as a worthy ally or friend, so I thought I'd try to make a friend on my own. I didn't know who he was, because I had no idea what he looked like. I couldn't see his scar, and as you know, he isn't a topic of discussion at our house." Again, Draco waited for a reaction. "I tried to talk to him in the shop, but it seemed like everything I wanted to say came out wrong and made him like me less. This made me want to prove to him that I was a good person to get to know, so I spent the summer imagining how I would talk with him, and befriend him, and eventually, he became part of my consciousness. To this day, I think of him almost daily in some capacity or another."

"Your first interaction was innocent, I'll warrant," spoke Lucius after a few seconds' silence. "How do you explain the fact that Nott seemed to think you have an ongoing obsession with the boy? As soon as you realized who he was, you should have ended anything but a polite disinterest in him. Why did this not happen?" Draco ducked his head, in shame, and in an effort to gain a few seconds for contemplation.

"I cannot explain it, Father. I know this will displease you, but when I saw him sitting on the train with that Weasel, I couldn't stand it. I don't know why, but every day I resist the urge to go up to him and try to befriend him. I try to avoid him as much as possible, and I attempted the polite disinterest, but I am too invested in him. Rather than coolly disinterested, I am almost antagonistic of him. Not on purpose, though. I really cannot explain it, Father. I apologize. I did try to avoid him. I do try to avoid him. By not getting to know his personality, I hope I am safe from the compulsion to be his best friend. I hope we, as Malfoys, are safe from the compulsion." Draco looked up from his hands, which he had been observing closely throughout his monologue. His father's face was inscrutable.

"I suppose I cannot truly fault you for that, Draco. I felt the same way about a girl I'd met in Flourish and Blotts, though I wouldn't admit it to her or myself until years later. I just wish you'd met someone else that day, I suppose. Then this wouldn't be an issue. Checkmate" The chess pieces disappeared into the board. "Would you like to play again?" Draco nodded, overcome with relief that his father wasn't angry. The pieces reassembled themselves. His father's pieces, according to tradition, had many more gems than Draco's did. The board always placed more stones on the winner's pieces, and the goal was to eventually strip the opponent of all gems. However, Draco was becoming increasingly good at strategy, so this feat was rather harder for his father than when Draco was younger.

"Tell me," said Lucius, moving a pawn, "How was that ridiculous assignment Severus told me about, with the pen pals?" Draco surveyed the board, weighing the benefits of moving his bishop there versus moving his pawn there.

"It was fine. I really liked my pen pal, and it was someone with whom I could definitely see myself being good friends. However, he freaked out when I suggested we meet, and he didn't want to tell me his name. His pen name was thunder, though. I really liked him. I was really disappointed he didn't write me a final letter. I still wonder why he didn't. And why he would send Harry—I mean, Potter—over with the Dragon for me. It was all rather confusing, really." Draco moved a piece before continuing "Did I ever show you the dragon?" He pulled up his sleeve and showed the small dragon curled around his arm, above his elbow. His father regarded it for a moment.

"So what did you and 'Thunder' talk about?" His rook took a pawn.

"Oh, nothing. Everything. We'd ask each other about homework. We'd talk about the Quidditch matches. The importance of family. Hogwarts gossip. Goals. Everything." Draco sighed. "Gods, I miss talking to him. I just wish I knew who he was so that I could be proper friends with him."

"So," said Lucius, considering his next move "His personality is as important to you as the mysterious robe shop figure? Am I interpreting this correctly?"

"No." Draco watched as his father put him in check "I'm much more invested in 'Thunder' I think. I'm not so shallow that I'd value someone's potential over someone's proven personality." Draco made his move and the game progressed. After Draco checkmated his father, Lucius waved his hand, and the chess set floated to the corner of the room, where it gently landed on its pedestal to await the next game.

"I'm glad we had this conversation. I feel you displayed a level of maturity befitting the Malfoy name despite your unfortunate obsession with Potter. My counsel is that you continue to act as you have acted, or if you can manage it, to be even more discrete with your 'fascination.' I do not mind your admiration of the boy, as long as you do not overtly sympathize with him. Do you understand? Another Gregory Nott type accusation, and I will not be nearly as understanding."

"Yes, father. Thank you." Draco stood, recognizing from his father's demeanor that it was time to leave. After wishing his father good night, Draco made his way to his room, where giddy with relief, he did a little dance around his room. Minutes later, an owl arrived at his window. Draco untied the letter, and read:

Dray,

I'm very glad I'm not at your house, as first your nervousness and now your giddy relief is overwhelming, given the distance between our homes. My mother looked at me very oddly when, in the middle of her tale of a tragic occurrence in Dublin (where her cousin splinched himself trying to apparate, and is unable to be put back together) I jumped up and did a dance around the room, laughing wildly. Father had to explain the situation to keep her from sending me to my room! While I'm very glad you're happy, do you mind, erm, toning it down a tad? Perhaps you should work on the exercises described in the book father lent you? Thanks.

All my love,

Daph

PS-Shall we meet up in a few weeks to do our school shopping? My father said he could take us.

Daph-

Sounds lovely

~Dray

"Dray!" Daphne's delighted cry rang throughout the manor "Dray, where are you?"

Draco rushed out of his room. He knew from the book that the bond made him feel incredibly lonely when his twin was away from his side for an extended period of time, but he'd never missed someone so desperately in his life. He met Daphne in the hallways, and she jumped into his arms "I've missed you, Dray! I'm so glad to see you! How've you been?" Draco sighed, content to have his twin by his side again, her presence easing an ache he hadn't known existed. "I've missed you, too, Daph. I've been rather lonely. At least you have your younger sister to keep you company. I have no one but my parents and Dobby." Daphne squeezed her arms around him. "Don't be silly, Astoria is marvelous, but she simply isn't my twin!" She let go of her bear hug, but grabbed his hand and dragged him down the stairs "I can tell you've been practicing your shields…good for you! I've been working on it as well. I think when we're back at school we should practice telepathic communication. It should be fun talking about everyone without them knowing what we're talking about!"

Daphne's father heard the last comment, and laughed "Always up to trouble, my Daphne. Hello Draco! How've you been keeping yourself?" He smiled jovially. It was hard not to like Daphne's father.

"I've been well, sir. I've missed Daphne like crazy, but as that book says, that's totally normal for a twin bond." Draco smiled at Daphne. How he'd missed the fact that they were much closer even than normal siblings was beyond him. He was lucky his twin was such a smart witch.

"Of course, of course!" Daphne's father replied. "Well, shall we be off?" Daphne took his arm, and Draco grabbed his shoulder. It was no mean feat to side-along apparate two passengers, but Altair Greengrass was a powerful wizard, and managed it with ease. He tapped the bricks to let them into Diagon Alley. "Now, I'm going to let you do your shopping on your own, but do me a favor and stick together. I don't want either of you getting lost, okay? Mr. Malfoy's going to be along in a little bit, and I want him to be able to find you quickly." With that, Altair strode off down Diagon Alley toward the Wizarding Wireless Network station.

"Come on!" cried Daphne, dragging Draco toward a store specializing in Potions (Ye Olde Potions Place est. 1974…yes, the name was corny, but the potions were top notch). There, Daphne examined the wares. She decided on a potion that turned the drinker's hair purple (good for two weeks), a potion to keep you up all night (for studying, she said), and a potion that made your hair sleek and shiny (she said the humidity after the rain gave her frizzy hair). Draco simply purchased a potions book with a wide variety of recipes in it. He never knew what would come in handy during the school year.

Their next stop was the Quidditch supply store. Draco spotted the newest broom, the Nimbus 2001, which excited him to no end. He was even more determined to get on the Slytherin House team if it meant he could have that magnificent broom at school. He wound up purchasing some new gloves (his old ones had gotten rather ragged) and a practice snitch (which could be accioed if he needed to leave practice before he'd found the snitch). Daphne was rather bored by this, but she did purchase a Slytherin pennant and a button for her robes during the school matches. Upon exiting the store, Draco spotted his father. The two made their way over to Lucius. Daphne realized upon arriving that she'd left her bag of potions in the Quidditch store. The two made arrangements to meet in Flourish and Blotts, and Draco and his father made their way to Knockturn Alley. Draco always accompanied his father on these less than savory trips because his father felt it would do Draco well to begin to learn how to command the lesser Dark Wizards. As they neared the entrance to Knockturn Alley, Draco saw the Weasel talking to his mother frantically. He overheard part of their conversation as they walked by.

"And, you know, if anyone sees Harry, they're going to associate him with me. You know, I reckon I'll have a chance of being on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, just because I'm friends with Harry, and he's so good at Quidditch. Maybe I'll get to use Harry's Nimbus, too! I'm sure he can buy a new one…" The conversation became muffled as the group made their way away from the Malfoys. The Weasel's comments, however, left Draco feeling thoroughly put out.

When they arrived at Borgin and Burke's, Lucius turned to Draco. "If you behave and pay attention to what I do today, I'll buy you a present, alright? I know this isn't really what you want to be doing today, so that's how I'll make it up to you." Draco agreed, but was distracted by the sight of familiar black hair. Was that…?

Was that who? Came Daphne's thoughts

No one thought back Draco Sorry for thinking that at you

As they entered the shop, Draco began looking around. As he reached for something, his father turned "Touch nothing, Draco."

Draco frowned "I thought you were going to buy me a present." He replied, hating that he sounded like a spoiled four year old.

"I said I would buy you a racing broom," his father replied, obviously referencing their conversations of last year.

"If I make the house team" said Draco, a bit nervously. This brought to mind the Weasel's comments about Harry and—wait—Draco was ashamed to admit it, but he had a keen nose. He remembered scents, and associated them with people. Daphne, for example, smelled of vanilla and almonds, his father the metallic scent of money. Harry Potter was unique—a clean, grassy, almost spicy smell that was uniquely Harry. And, if Draco wasn't mistaken, that scent was emanating from the closet. Draco decided to put on a show for his father to prove he could be distant from Harry. He thought for a minute, then began to rant

"Harry Potter got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. He's not even that good, it's just because he's famous…famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead…everyone thinks he's so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick—" He heard a muffled noise from the cupboard. His father, however, decided not to play along (granted, he didn't know what game Draco was playing, but still).

"You have already told me this. I would remind you that it is not –prudent—to appear less than fond of Harry Potter." Lucius' attention was drawn to Mr. Borgin. As the two began negotiating, Draco made his way around the store, plotting the best way to approach Harry in the cupboard. Should he try to help him escape? Should he ignore him? Eventually, he decided he'd help Harry escape the store, and explain the monologue was for the benefit of any Dark Wizards who could hear his hateful words toward Harry. Unfortunately, as Draco reached for the handle…

"Done," said Lucius at the counter. "Come Draco—" Draco was bitterly disappointed he wouldn't get a chance to see Harry away from the Weasel. He had been too nervous to come up to the cupboard outright and had therefore wasted time wandering the room before he made his way over to Harry's hiding place. Draco was also a bit afraid Harry would hate him for that diatribe. There was nothing he could do about it, however, so Draco simply made his way with his father to Flourish and Blotts.

At the end of the day, Draco was pleased. He had had a marvelous time with Daphne, and his day was marred by only two things. One was the confusion in Borgin and Burkes. The other was that mysterious little book. He had been sure it wasn't in the littlest Weasel's textbook at first, but after his father had that disgraceful scuffle with the Patriarch Weasel, there was an extra book within the textbook. Draco wasn't sure what to think about that.

Draco called for Dobby, hoping he was there. It was bizarre. Several times throughout the summer, Dobby wouldn't come when called. He'd always show up later, but often with bandaged appendages. Draco had no idea what the elf was up to, and he didn't want to pry into his personal life. Fortunately, Dobby was there, and Draco asked him to get his things packed for Hogwarts.

Only days remained until he was back at the castle. Draco could hardly wait.

Poor Draco. He can't do anything right when it comes to Harry. Obviously that comes from the second book...when Harry's trapped in the vanishing cupboard in Borgin and Burkes. This is my longest chapter yet. I've been working hard! :)

Please let me know what you think by reviewing. You will have both my gratitude and longer chapters as a reward. :)