Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor anything associated with him.

Warning: Violence, Alternate Universe, Slash, Sexual scenes in the future, Death Eater Harry, Ootp Spoilers, OOC Chars.. Etc, Etc, there's a lot to warn about here, folks. I guess. XD

Author's Note: See.. told you I'd take forever. I'm still lazing around with Speak to me, because I don't know what to do in it, and then there's my sudden interest in the Naruto and Inu Yasha fandoms.

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Dumbledore sighed. He really didn't want to give Harry his own room. Perhaps if he asked the sorting hat where he should put him? Of course he had already decided to give him his own room, but then realized it was a bad idea. There were simply no rooms to put students other than their houses. The kids would start a riot if they thought people were allowed to transfer houses. Which was why Harry couldn't have his own room, or in essence, be transferred to a different house and share a room with different dorm mates.

No, he simply couldn't do it. So what should he do? Perhaps if he just pretended the discussion never happened? Not that it would be hard. He forgets things all the time.

It would be easier to do then actually remove Harry from the 6th year Gryffindor dorm. He wouldn't have to deal with upset students, angry parents, reprimanding from the school governors, hassle from the papers, or even Severus.

He could just deal with Harry if he did that.

That boy was probably exaggerating anyway. No one would actually do anything like that to the Boy-Who-Lived. That was it. Exaggerating. Gryffindors wouldn't do such a thing anyway.

Which is why there was no need to punish them. Because a Gryffindor would do no such thing, therefore didn't, so punishing them would be unjust.

Harry's just trying to get attention. Now that the whole Boy-Who-Lived fanatics thing has cooled down, Harry must miss the attention.

He was worried that would happen.

Dumbledore grabbed a lemon drop and popped it into his mouth, pushing the memory of he and Harry's last encounter from his mind.

---

Harry didn't even watch or say goodbye as almost the entire school left. He had cleaned his things up almost an hour ago, and put them back in his trunk.

Indeed, while the other students left, Harry Potter was sitting propped up against the wall reading a book. He was the same corridor as Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom entrance. He was wandering around when he saw the book, and couldn't help but pick it up and study it.

He remained reading that book for the rest of the morning, and then the afternoon. In fact, it was 18:00 (6:00 P.M.) when he was forced out of the book.

"I didn't know you could read, Potter." A cruel, icy voice came from near Harry.

"Leave me alone, Malfoy." Harry said softly, his eyes not leaving the book.

"What is it, Potter? Can't concentrate on reading and talking at the same time?" Draco said, smirking to himself for coming up with such a great insult.

"I don't like being interrupted when I'm reading. Don't you have something better to do?" Harry growled, finally looking up from the book.

"I do, in fact. If you'd kindly give me my book, Potter, I'll be off." Draco said, smugly.

Harry's eyebrows rose, "Your book? You'd be so irresponsible as to leave such a valuable, rather dark, book in the middle of a corridor?"

Draco narrowed his eyes, his expression not changing as he remembered why his book had fallen on the ground in the first place.

.: Flashback :.

"Hey, Malfoy!" A very familiar, annoying voice called. Draco scowled.

"What is it, Weasley? Come to beg for money? The Malfoys don't do charity, you know." He growled, turning to face the red head. he narrowed his eyes more when he saw the boy was accompanied by non other than that stupid mudblood, Hermione Granger.

Draco immediately had his wand out, unconsciously taking a defensive position. He really wasn't in the mood to duel right now. His /just/ recieved an owl from his mother canceling his plans for coming home over winter break. She had /better/ things to do than tend to him.

Now Weasley decided to pester him. Well, he'd have none of that. His other hand clutched the strap of his book bag tightly in mild anger.

Weasley seemed to notice, yet had other things on his mind. "You're the one who turned Harry over to the dark side, aren't you, Malfoy?"

"What?" Draco said, a flash of surprise showing on his face. It instantly turned smug. "The dark side, huh? No, that was-"

"Harry wouldn't have turned to the dark side without some bad influence!" Granger snapped, glaring at Draco.
Draco narrowed his eyes and sneered at her, "Learn your place, Mudblood. How dare you interrupt me. I can't understand why Potter would waste his time with you in the first place."

"Don't talk to her like that, Ferret!" Weasley growled, and started to step to him. Granger's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, giving it a little tug. The red head paused.

Draco's hand clenched the strap of his book bag tighter, unconsciously still, the anger swelling inside of him.

Weasley's smile suddenly seemed twisted, sick: cruel. "What's in the bag, you disgusting excuse for a wizard?" He snarled, flicking his wand and causing the strap to snap.

As it snapped it whipped against Draco's cheek leaving a nice red mark and slipped front his grip, falling on the floor. His ink, quill, several rolls of parchment and a few books tumbled easily out of his bag. Draco immediately dropped to the ground and started shoving everything into his bag.

He really wasn't in the mood to fight.

Weasley wasn't done, and Draco wasn't paying attention. He was hit with a knockback jinx, one that sent him tumbling backwards, heals over head. He slammed against the wall, wincing as his head hit it.

"Ron, come on, we're going to-" Granger started suddenly, but was cut off. No wonder where the bitch got it from.

"Just a minute more, Hermione." Weasley said calmly, "We both know he deserves what he gets. He corrupted Harry."

Granger was silent, and suddenly Draco's eyes went wide in realization. He was not going to be made a fool of this time. He'd get away before the pathetic excuse for a pureblood dared throw another unhonorable curse at him. Why the fuck wasn't anyone versed in the art of real wizard fighting?

He hated child's play. But perhaps that was attirbuted to the fact he was never good at it.

He quickly scrambled to his feet, flicking his wand and muttering a spell that caused his belongings to slide into his book bag. One more spell, and he had the thing levitating behind him as he sprinted off.

He could hear Weasley cursing loudly behind him, and Granger's voice telling him they're going to miss the train.

He didn't stop until he got to his dorm, panting heavily. He ignored Vincent and Gregory as he passed them, not feeling like listening to their unintelligent remarks right yet.

It was a little later that he found his 'Not-So-Average Spells for the Not-So-Average Wizard: A General Guide to the Dark Arts' was missing.

He didn't feel like leaving his dorm right now, though. He'd get it later.
.: End Flashback :.

"Yes, my book. I dropped it, Potter. Now hand it over before I'm forced to execute some of those spells it contains on you." Draco said with a smirk.

What Harry said next completely caught him off guard.

"Can I borrow it once in awhile? I'd like to finish reading it."

"What use do you have for a Dark Arts book, Potter?" Draco said, struggling to keeps his air of superiority.

Harry sighed, glancing at the page number and closing the book. "Perhaps I'll tell you if you promise to allow me to borrow it."

Draco was silent for a moment before speaking this time. The information that Potter was studying Dark Arts would be useful, but why would be even better. He smirked.

"Okay, Potter." He reached his hand out for the book, "You can borrow it the day after tomorrow."

"Great." Harry was pushing himself to his feet now, dusting off his robes. He stretched slightly as he spoke. "I'll tell you why then? Fair trade, don't you think?"

"Fine." Draco snapped. Harry gave him the book. "Meet me here, 8 AM. Tuesday."

Malfoy walked off, and Harry smirked to himself.

The Slytherin didn't even notice Harry was wearing Draco's robes.

---

Harry leaned back against the wall patiently. Yesterday had passed so slowly he felt like it was years. He actually did his homework. Actually, the only homework he had left to do was potions. He saved the best for last.

Harry swished his wand again, causing the time to glow in front of him for a few moments before disappearing. It was 7:58. Harry sighed and stared at the ceiling for what seemed to be another 20 minutes.

Draco still wasn't there. Harry flicked his wand again. Bright green letters read '8:00 AM'. A blonde haired boy was standing right in front of him, with an eyebrow raised.

Trust Malfoy to be exact.

They stared at each other for a moment, willing the other to speak.

Harry shrugged, not getting the point of the staring contest, and spoke. "What was your book doing in the hall, Malfoy?"
Draco's expression didn't change. "If I thought it was any of your business, Potter, I'd tell you."

Harry leaned back against the wall, folding his arms. "I guess we have no business here, then."

"Potter, I came to lend you a book in exchange for knowing why you want it. This has nothing to do with why it was there in the first place." Draco ground out, deciding to give it a last shot before deciding he wont get the information he needs.

Harry stared at him for a moment, as if sizing him up. "Alright, Malfoy. I found the book to be interesting."

"Come on, Potter, you can do better than that." Draco smirked at the Gryffindor.

Harry was silent for a moment. "I thought a guide to the dark arts would help me to be better able to defend myself."

He figured anyone would take the old Gryffindor routine. After all, he was a Gryffindor.

Still, Draco didn't believe him.

"I have more Dark Arts books, Potter, if you tell me the real reason." Draco had lowered his voice.

Harry was silent still, and hesitated for more than a moment. Draco didn't even twitch.

Harry gave a fake shrug, hoping to make it seem like it didn't matter. "I had opened the book to see who it belonged to. I decided to read a little and I thought the Dark Arts might be worth my time."

Draco smirked and handed him the book. "I always thought you had it in you Potter. Mudblood and Weasel were just holding you back. When do you think you'll be finished with it?"

"Tomorrow." Harry said, flatly.

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "You plan on reading that the entire day, Potter?"

"I have nothing else to do." Harry shrugged again. Draco gave him a slightly annoyed look.

"Care to practice what you've learned, Potter?" Father would be so proud of him, teaching Harry Potter the Dark Arts.

Harry's eyes brightened. "When, and where?"

"Quidditch pitch. Don't bring anyone, don't tell anyone. I'll lead you to where we'll practice. Today, just after lunch."

Harry gave a short nod. "See you." He agreed, and started walking off, tightening his grip on the book.
"Oh, and Potter?" Draco said, his smirk becoming wider.

Harry stopped, and slowly turned, "Yes?"

"Nice robes. Green always suited you better. But next time, ask before you take."

Harry pursed his lips and nodded, walking; calmly; back towards his common room.

Draco turned around, eyes narrowing and a smirk playing on his lips. "Hello, Godfather. You've been sneaking around again, haven't you?"

"Just what do you think you're doing, Draco? Potter is sure to get you in trouble."

"He wont." Draco said firmly, eyeing the Potion's Master who had decided to quit lurking in the shadows.

"Don't come crying to me when he has the Headmaster follow you." Snape growled, then turned and walked off.

A small smirk played on Draco's lips as the boy started towards the Slytherin Common rooms. He'd keep the information of Potter's wavering loyalties to himself until it was certain.

After all, the Gryffindor could change his mind.

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I've been debating much on whether Snape should be Draco's godfather or not. Guess what I decided?

And I hope you like what I did with Dumbledore. I hope it works; because this incident is going to get the real plot rolling.