Can Love Survive

All canon events, people, places, etc belong to JKR. Anything else belongs to me :)

CHAPTER ONE: A Chance Meeting In A Muggle World

Boooooring. This is soooo bloody boooring! Harry Potter thought to himself as he sat outside the hairdresser's shop waiting as always for his Aunt Petunia. He hated Saturday's, mainly because while his whale of a cousin Dudley was allowed to go play with his little 'gang', which consisted of Piers, Dennis, Malcolm and Gordon, he was forced to go the hairdressers in London with his aunt. The only consolation of all of this was that at least, for 4 hours that day, he didn't have to deal with Dudley and his cohorts playing 'Harry Hunting'.

This particular Saturday was going to be even worse then usual however. Although he wasn't limited to staying cooped up in his cupboard under the stairs back at 4 Privet Drive in Little Whinging, they never trusted him to stay at home alone. With Dudley always over at Piers' house, and his Uncle Vernon always having to go into the office for a bit on Saturdays, he was stuck with his aunt with little choice.

This Saturday however due to it getting close to Dudley's 9th birthday, Aunt Petunia not only was getting her normal hair arrangements, but going all out and getting a facial and something she called a 'wax treatment'. Harry didn't know what that meant, but if it was something to improve his aunt's looks, she was going to be in there for the whole day, if not the whole week!

Sitting out on the bench though in front of the hairdressers, only fifteen minutes had past since they arrived, and he knew it was going to be a very long day. He remembered his aunt saying they'd be gone until well after supper, meaning at least 2 or 3 in the afternoon, and it was only quarter after 9 now! With a groan, Harry resigned himself to his usual games while waiting, wondering how long that would actually take to get him utterly and completely bored this time round.

Fifteen minutes. It had taken only fifteen minutes this round to get bored again … a new record for him. He'd already counted all the cars on the street including his Aunt's car (which was a grand total of 12 today), he'd counted at least 5 stray cats, 8 stray dogs, and 5 scrawny looking birds in the few trees that lined the kerb. He'd counted 18 fag butts on the ground, and to top it off, a surely looking policeman glared at him as he headed to the roundabout to direct traffic. Yup, this is shaping up to be a right good day he thought to himself miserably.

Five minutes later, he'd had enough however. The police officer was still glaring in his direction, and he'd run out of things to count. For some reason he felt more irritable today then he usually did while waiting, and getting up headed round the back of the shop where he knew there was a small park area. He never told his aunt that he went there, always waiting to leave the bench till she was occupied and had forgot his existence, which usually didn't take more then 5 or so minutes, but he always stayed a bit longer just in case.

Today as he slipped off to the park, his mood still a bit on the sulky side, he stopped short when he got to the small fence that enclosed it. Normally the gate was closed, and apart from the few strays littering round, noone ever came here, but today the gate was open, and not a dog or cat was in sight. Glancing over the gate he noticed why they'd been missing, causing a tiny bit of jealousy that someone else had entered what for purpose sake he considered 'his' park on these Saturdays.

He stood there for a few minutes just watching the other person who was turned away and looking at something over on other side of the fence. From the looks of it, it was another boy, maybe 7 or 8, certainly not much older anyway from his sise, which was small. His hair was blonde, but an odd sort of blonde, not like his cousin Dudley's hair or his Aunt Petunia's, this boys hair was almost silvery, sparkling under the morning sunlight like diamonds, and slicked back like a film star. It was quite a contrast really to Harry's usually unmanageable, tangled mess of black hair, and Harry was a bit awed how the boy could keep his hair so spot on looking.

"Take a picture, it lasts longer," the boy said turning round and now was staring back at Harry. The boy's voice was soft sounding, but had a distinctive drawl to it that was very upper-class, meaning he definitely wasn't from round this part of London.

"Wh-what did you say?" Harry said bewildered and walked over to the boy now.

"Heard it in some yank Muggle film while my mum was out shopping recently, thought I'd try it out," the boy said still looking at him, and walked over to sit on one of the small benches round the park area.

"How'd you know I was there though?" Harry said keeping his eyes on the other boy. For some reason this boy made him nervous, though he didn't understand why.

"The gate," he said pointing to it. "I heard it squeak when you came in," the boy said, his voice laced with a bit of a smirk.

"Oh, sorry. Wasn't expecting anyone else here. Usually it's just me and a few strays. What's a Mu … Mug …?" Harry said struggling with the word.

"Muggle?" he said and Harry nodded. "Nothing, don't worry about it. You come here a lot?" the boy said glancing round the small park almost in disdain as if it were beneath him.

Harry nodded. "Every Saturday. My Aunt Petunia gets her hair done at the shop round the corner. Don't know why she does it though; I think she looks more like a horse each time she gets of the place." Harry said with a little grin.

The boy looked at him a second, then grinned himself. "Really? Never met a Mu-err … woman that looked like a horse before. Must be interesting."

"Not when you have to live with her. She's ruddy awful really, I hate her," Harry said sitting down next to the boy now with a sigh.

"Why do you come with her then and not stay with your parents?"

"Well … my parents … my parents are dead. They died in a car crash when I was a baby, though I don't remember it much even though they said I was with them at the time. I lived though, so I had to go live with my aunt and uncle and my oaf of a cousin. Anyway, about three months ago my aunt found this place, so now every Saturday I'm forced to come with her. Till I found this park, it was a bloody nightmare cause she never spends less then three hours here and I usually ended up sitting out front counting millions of cars and things," Harry said grumbling.

The boy looked at him for a moment, and then let out a laugh. It was a nice laugh surprisingly coming from the small-sized boy, not loud, not quiet, but nice. "Sorry, don't mean to laugh at you like that; I know it must be horrible. You just sounded so well … I don't know. Awful about your parents though, sometimes I wish my parents would go off and die, but I guess it's not so great after all huh."

"Not when you're stuck with my relatives it isn't anyway," Harry said giving a small sigh.

"Cheer up mate; at least you're alive right? How old are you anyway, seven? Eight? You'll be going off to secondary school pretty soon and can get away from them then."

"I'm going on nine actually in July, and not bloody likely. They'd never allow me to go to a real school. I'll probably end up getting stuck at the state school. Not that I mind really, I'm pretty sure Dudley, that's my cousin, he'll go to Smeltings, a public school, so at least I won't have to be hunted anymore," Harry said hopefully.

"Hunted? What on earth do you mean?"

"It's a long story but basically Dudley and his 'friends' make it a game to catch me and beat me up," Harry said bitterly.

"Geeze … lovely cousin you have there. I take it then he's the reason you're glasses have sellotape round them. And I thought my family was bad, at least I'm an only child!" the boy said with a grin.

"Wish I was. My cousin broke my glasses last time he punched me in the nose, and my aunt won't give me any gum for them so I had to sellotape them instead. How old are you anyway?"

"Eight also, but I'll be nine on August 1st."

"Wow really? Mines July 31st!" Harry said still grinning.

"So, you do have to come here a lot then?" the boy said and glanced round the park again.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, until either my aunt decides to find somewhere else, which isn't likely anytime soon, or until she finds someone she can pawn me off on weekly. I highly doubt that though, she barely lets anyone know I even exist, so I doubt she'd let anyone take care of me on a weekly basis."

"Looks like we'll be seeing each other again. I have a good suspicion that shop your aunt's in is the same one my mum's in. She heard about it recently, and gave it go last week. She's pretty vain, and very particular about who does her hair, but she said the guy came highly recommended. Turned out he was like us, and knew exactly what she wanted, and she's going to only let him have at her hair now. I wasn't going to come but my father had to leave suddenly, and she didn't want to leave me alone in the house," the boy said in his drawl.

"What do you mean … like us?" Harry said thoughtfully picking that up.

"Oh err … I mean … well it's just that this guy knows how to deal with people like my mum that's all. Told you she's pretty vain," the boy said giving Harry a half grin.

"Oh, I see. Must be a woman thing, god I'm glad I'm not like that, I think I'd hatemyself if I was a woman," Harry said chuckling.

The boy looked at Harry in surprise for a second, and then grinned himself. "I think I would too. Definitely wouldn't want to be a woman."

The two boys passed the next few hours quickly it seemed, talking about this and that, how horrible Harry's life was, though the other boy didn't say much on his life, just a few comments here and there. Soon enough, the silvery blonde haired boy with the grey eyes heard someone calling, and both boys realised it was time for him to go.

"I guess I have to go now. It was nice meeting you," the boy said to Harry.

"Yeah, thanks for making the time speed by so quickly. Don't think I've ever had this much fun. So … you think you'll be back next Saturday?" Harry said grinning.

"I can't make any promises, but if I know my mother, she'll be back, so I guess I will," the boy said with a smile.

"Great, I'll be looking out for you then. We usually get here round 9 and stay till round noon or so."

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks," the boy said turning round to leave.

"Wait! You know we've been talking all day, and … well … I don't even know your name! Mine's Harry by the by," Harry said running over to him.

The boy looked at him, tilting his head just slightly debating what he should do. Finally, he said, "Drake. It's been nice to meet you Harry. Friends then?" he said and offered his hand out to Harry.

Harry looked at the hand for a moment, then took it in his and smiled up at his new friend. "Friends. See you next week Drake!" he said, and let go of his new friends hand.

"See you next week Harry," the boy Drake said turning round and heading out the gate towards the sound of his mum's voice.

Harry watched him go, happy that today hadn't turned into a ruddy nightmare. He hoped Drake would be back next week, and he realised then that Drake was the first person he'd ever made friends with. Friends, he actually had a friend! The rest of the hours past quickly then, and checking his watch he slipped back to the bench right before his Aunt Petunia were done, hiding his smile and putting up his normal sullen expression. As they got back in the car and drove him, his mind wasn't on the road, but on his new friend. And for the first time ever, he hoped that the week would pass quickly, and Saturday would roll back round soon.

Meanwhile, about 40 miles away in a large manor home hidden on the outskirts of High Wyncombe, Oxfordshire, and a dour looking woman was talking to her son.

"I hope you weren't too bored Draco while I was in there," Narcissa Malfoy said to her eight-year-old son.

"No mother, I wasn't," the boy said picking at the food that made up the delayed supper they were now eating.

"I must say though that Arvin is everything they told me and more. Shame a talented wizard like that chose to stay in the Muggle world. He'd make a fortune if he'd stayed where he belonged," Narcissa said glancing yet again into the mirror by the table.

"He's a quarter Muggle mother, it's his world too. Maybe not everyone likesto live in the Wizarding World," Draco said causing his mother to glance at him sharply.

"Watch your mouth young man, and never, ever inform your father where I go on Saturdays. I've finally found someone who knows exactly what to do with my hair and I don't want it spoiled by your father's hatred of the Muggle world. Understand Draco?" she said, a chill in her voice.

"I understand mother. May I be excused please?" Draco said meekly and at getting a sharp nod from his mum, got up and left the table, going to his room.

His room wasn't much to look at, grey stone walls, over elaborate furniture more for an adult then a child, and not a single toy in sight. His father deemed toys unneeded for his son, opting instead to give him lessons in other things. Draco Lucius Malfoy never had had a chance to be a child, and flopping down on his bed; he knew that's why he was going to treasure meeting Harry today so much. For once in his life, he was able to talk to someone without having to be prim and proper, without having to be the dreaded "Malfoy" son, and for once in his short Eight years of life, he'd had fun.

Fun. Such a strange word to a Malfoy, Draco knew that. He knew what 'fun' meant to his father, and he shivered as he remembered some of the awful things he'd heard in rumours about him. Years ago his father had been caught up within a lot of dark magic, and according to some, his father was in league even with He Who Must Not Be Named. Somehow, Draco didn't exactly believe it wasn'trumour though.

His father was tough, working almost daily to get Draco interested in the dark arts, and Draco was finding it harder and harder to resist saying no these days. He hadn't any friends, not unless you count those two goons that always came over with his fathers 'friends', Crabbe and Goyle. They were oafish, stupid, and Draco doubted they could put more then one sentence together between them. They were strong though compared to the small sized Draco, so he'd little choice when they were there to stay with them. Draco knew however that they were more bodyguards for him rather then anything else, seeing as how he was Lucius' son and Lucius Malfoy wasn't a man you crossed.

Draco lay back and gazed up at the ceiling now, remembering his morning, and actually smiling a bit. At first, he hadn't been keen to make friends with the black haired, green eyed boy, but in the end he was glad they were. For the first time ever he had a real friend, even if they'd only see each other once a week. The boy, Harry, didn't know who Draco was even, being a Muggle. Draco didn't care suddenly that Harry was a Muggle even, it's was his father who hated Muggles and had this whole pure-blood vengeance thing going, not him.

Harry was nice though, even being a Muggle, and Draco liked that. It was nice after being surrounded by complete idiots like Crabbe and Goyle, and his mum and dad, to have someone to laugh with, play with, and within reason, and talk about things with. His mum would have nothing to fear from him about telling his dad about Arvin and the hairdressers, but not for all the tea in China would he ever tell him mum that willingly. Although his mum was a bit nicer, if you could call it that, then his father, all the years of suppression inside Malfoy Manor would make anyone go dour, she was no exception.

Later on that night Draco's father came home, and barely surviving the glares from his mother, and answering simple yes and no's to his father, he was finally given freedom to go back to his room. That night as he fell asleep, he thought about the boy Harry again, and for the first time in Draco's life, he slept peacefully and soundly, none of the usual nightmares lingering in his dreams.

Back at 4 Privet Drive, in a cupboard underneath the stairs, Harry James Potter was also dreaming. Not his usual dreams about flashing green light, and a woman screaming behind an evil sounding laughter, but instead he dreamed of a silvery blonde haired, grey eyed boy and how glad he was to have found his new friend Drake. If anyone had peeked in to the cupboard that night, they would have seen a small smile on the sleeping face of the pale boy with the green eyes, and a very odd lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead that was nearly hidden behind strands of unruly black hair.