Harry twirled strands of spaghetti on his fork lazily, hardly batting an eye when he was surrounded by fellow Gryffindors. But he did glance up after a moment, and everyone wore the same pale expression.
"Ready?" Ron asked.
Harry gulped. "As I'll ever be." And so Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Luna set off for the Ministry of Magic. After trial and error a prophecy was revealed, declaring Harry to be the only one who could slay Voldemort. A battle rages on between Lucius Malfoy's Death Eaters and Dumbledore's Army. In a state of tension, Sirius Black, otherwise known as Harry's godfather, is killed by Bellatrix Lestrange. The blood pumping in his veins, Harry chases after the madwoman, only to come face to face with Voldemort himself. However, Dumbledore shows up, flesh and bone, to defend Harry. An epic and spectacular duel begins. Though during this time Voldemort tries to overtake Harry's very own mind. Harry was barely able to resist, and as the Minister gazed Voldemort in the eye, he fled into the darkness.
"Harry. Harry. Speak to me." Harry blinked, the memory fading away, and was brought back to reality. Reality being a very worrisome pair of grey eyes, that is.
"Draco, hello."
"Don't you 'hello' me, Harry Potter! Why won't you tell me what happened at the Ministry? Please, I want to help." Harry scratched the back if his head. "I dunno, it's a touchy subject."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Exactly. We're in this together now, and I know you feel like crap. I only ask you tell me why, that's all." Harry took a deep breath.
"My godfather died." He stated, feeling the pain wash over him for the umpteenth time that day. Draco didn't seem to fully understand.
"Your, er, godfather?" He sat there with his head cocked to the side like a bird. "Were you two close?"
"You have no idea." Harry shook his head back and forth, brow furrowing.
"Well, anyway we should get going. It looks as though it's about to rain." No sooner after Draco uttered these words a crack of lightning promptly glowed in the distance. Everyone hurried inside, many pouting as the lovely day was submerged in a downpour. "Just another reason to be glum, huh?" Draco shrugged. Harry looked as stale as ever. "Harry," he sighed. "Just think, that Umbridge woman got sacked the other day! And... Summer is just around the corner! Stop being such a daisy!" Harry looked up.
"Another stay with the Dursely's."
"They can't be that bad." Harry snorted. "They put bars on my window in second year, Draco, bars."
"I stand corrected. At least you'll have me to watch over you. Hedwig will have a tough time keeping up with all the mail."
"I suppose." Harry drifted into his thoughts, more than he would've liked. Draco moaned in agony. "Come on. Where's the Harry I know?"
"Gone."
When what horrid atrocities arrived with the end of Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts, also stayed with him as he traveled, once again, into the cruel hands of his Aunt and Uncle. He would've thought by now that Dumbledore would have stepped in and taken him to some wizarding orphanage or another thing of the sort. But no such luck greeted Harry with the freedom of a birds wing, so he felt more like a fish out of water than anything as he trudged into the all-too-familiar house. Dudley greeted him with a kinder eye than anything, perhaps he finally realized that magic wasn't so bad after all. After all, Harry did save his life. Or, rather, his soul. Seeing as there weren't many other options, Harry dragged his trunk up to the second bedroom up several booming steps (which Harry emphasized) all the while sorting out the emotions that still raged in his head.
Weeks, no, maybe even a couple months passed, and the dreadful feeling had done anything but leave. Time heals all wounds! They say. Time only made the pain increase tenfold for Harry. He got dozens of letters, most of which were Draco bothering him, and of how he wished Harry could stay at Malfoy Manor for the rest of the summer. Of course Draco knew that his father would rather die in cold blood than have the so called 'Chosen One' reside in his house of all places. Harry would always respond, no matter how dull he thought he sounded, with the same I wish that could happen, too. And then he would proceed to say about how when everything was settled, when they were both stronger men, that then they could make their own decisions and not be forbidden by petty rules. Though these letters from Malfoy clogged Hedwig's beak, Ron and Hermione always gave their best wishes- every week.
Harry had gotten quite used to the standard procedure he used whilst at the Dursely's, be quiet and pretend you don't exist. Easy enough. So it was quite the shocker when Albus Dumbledore sent him a letter, inscribing that he would arrive on Harry's doorstep that coming Friday at eleven p.m! He had read the letter over and over, a new hope rising in his chest. Counting down the days until Dumbledore would show up, Draco did the same when he found out.He's coming to see YOU?! You better file all these papers! Clean up, dress yourself nice! (P.S. Tell me what he wanted afterwards, I'll keep it secret ) The little heart he drew always made Harry smile. Even the smallest, most subtle of smiles.
"Good evening, you must me Mr. Dursely..." Dumbledore spoke from the threshold to a flustered Uncle Vernon. And then down the road Albus & Harry went, until Dumbledore mentioned they needed to apparate. Now, Harry, whom had never apparated before, thought nothing of it and complied. Needless to say it was a gut-wrenching experience. Literally. Who knew teleportation would feel like squeezing through a tube much too small to fit any human? Harry sure didn't. After the much unpleasant experience, Harry had the... pleasure of meeting the hopefully Professor Horace Slughorn, whom had taught his mother, Lily, when she went to Hogwarts. In the end, Horace agreed to teach at Hogwarts for another year. The Burrow was their next stop, where Harry was happily going to reside until the start of term. After the initial 'How have you been?' from Ron and Hermione, their conversation died out and had to be replaced with new subject matter.
"So... are you still with Malfoy?" Ron brought up the subject, staring hard at the floorboards, which had a very interesting bug crawling across it. At least it wasn't a spider, Harry thought.
"Yeah. We've been sending letters back and forth all summer." Harry sure had lightened up since reuniting with his friends, even more so, his family.
"Well, I'm happy that you've found someone you can be chipper with, even if it is Draco. Right, Ron?" Hermione starred daggers at him.
"I don't necessarily have to like him... Er- I'm still all right with it and all. But,Malfoy?" Ron shook his head in wonderment.
"It's not like I planned it out or anything." Harry shrugged, feeling himself turn slightly pink.
"No way, mate. I get that. But onto a more exciting topic, have you heard about the Chudley Canons...?" Ron smirked, bringing up his favourite Quidditch team again. With Hermione's sigh of 'Ron!' Harry truly knew he was home again.
"Come! Have some more, Harry."
"Mrs. Weasely, I've had fourths already..."
"Nonsense! You're a growing boy, eat up." This had become the normal dinner chatter between Harry and Mrs. Weasely. Her always wanting him to eat the entire house away while Harry was left slightly embarrassed. It was when a knock came from the door- almost inaudible- that interrupted their conversation. 'I'll get it!' Mrs. Weasely sang, abandoning Harry's already full plate of food. He breathed a sigh of relief. She was a lovely woman, that Mrs. Weasely, but could take it to the extremes when it came to feeding her children, and Harry especially.
"Harry." She called to him now, a concerned look on her face. "It's for you." Confused, Harry got up from his seat beside Ron, accidentally scraping the legs of the wooden chair on the floor, and went to see what the commotion was about. He gasped when he saw a boy dressed in torn clothes, dripping in what looked like blood as well as some other liquids Harry couldn't identify smile at him through riveting, grey eyes.
"Long time no see." Draco said, before collapsing right in front of him.
