(AN: This chapter is from the Point of View of Draco Malfoy)

I was unpleasantly bored, but that was nothing new. The brimming excitement at preparing for finally starting school at Hogwarts had been lost earlier in the day while spending several dull hours listening to my mother pick apart every imperfection of the robes I was having made.

I'd slipped away from her in the apothecary, intent on going to look at racing brooms before she found me again. The window of Quality Quidditch Supplies was packed with kids pressing their faces against the glass to get a look at the Nimbus Two Thousand. I grinned; my dad had already promised to buy me one.

I was so intent on getting into the store than I ran headlong into a boy who'd been standing back away from the crowd at the window, silently watching the hubbub. He wheeled around the face me before either of us had realized the sleeve of my robes had caught on his jacket's zipper; we didn't notice that until we'd both sprawled flat on the sidewalk. It took us a moment to disentangle ourselves, and then we sat on the sidewalk, trying to unhook my sleeve from the front of his jacket.

My first instinct as a Malfoy was to demand to know what the hell he thought he was doing and blame him for the whole thing, but something about his green eyes gave me pause.

"Sorry for running you over," I said grimly as I finally tugged my sleeve free. "What were you doing standing back here?" I asked after he nodded in acceptance, doing me the favor of not lingering on my mistake. I'd never met the boy before, but there were plenty of people I hadn't met. He was about my age, and his deeply tanned skin was nearly brown in comparison to mine, which was ivory pale. He was thin and wiry, with a distinctly malnourished look to him that was only increased by the baggy clothes he wore. His hair was inky black and fell in his face in a rumpled mess that my mother would cringe just looking at, but it was his eyes that amazed me. They were the most startling shade of emerald green I'd ever seen in my life, and they burned with loneliness and longing that didn't belong in the eyes of a child. He seemed so utterly alone that I was taken aback by it.

"Watching," he shrugged, snapping me back to my senses and nodding toward the window. No one had noticed us fall, thank Merlin.

"Where are your parents?" I asked, looking around even though part of me knew I wouldn't find any.

"Dead," he shrugged, standing up and offering a hand down to me. I took it and he pulled me easily to my feet.

"Oh, sorry," I said, frowning and biting my lip. "You Hogwarts, too? First year?" I asked then, just to change the subject.

"Yeah. Do you know where I'm supposed to find Madam Malkin's Robe Shop For All Occasions?" he asked, reading off of the piece of paper in his hand.

"Yeah, it's right up the street on the left. You here on your own?" I asked. He shrugged again and nodded. "Well, my mum is busy in the apothecary. I have time to show you where everything is," I offered, starting down the street and nodding for him to follow. I'd forgotten all about the brooms.

"Thank you," he said, sounding sincerely relieved. It was my turn to shrug.

"I'm Draco Malfoy, by the way," I said, grinning with pride. If you couldn't be proud of being a Malfoy, what could you be proud of?

"I'm Harry Potter," he replied so casually that I almost didn't choke on my air and wheel to face him. Almost.

"The Harry Potter?" I demanded, gaping at him in an entirely undignified fashion.

"No, the other one," he said with tired sarcasm, pushing his hair back form his forehead to reveal the lightening-shaped scar there. I took a steadying breath before sticking my hand out to him, still watching the boy with wide eyes. He shook it, smiling slightly. "I'm thinking of changing my name and having someone charm this thing invisible," he told me as our hands fell back to our sides.

"But you're famous!" I exclaimed in shock. "A hero."

"How would you like it if everyone stared at the end of your nose instead of looking you in the eyes?" he asked, frowning and running his fingers forward through his hair, as if making certain that his famous scar was thoroughly covered. "I hate people staring at my forehead."

"Then I won't," I promised solemnly. Understanding someone else's feelings was a new concept to me; caring about them was just too strange to bother considering. So I didn't. I led him down the sidewalk to Madam Malkin's, and on a whim I accompanied him inside.

"Hogwarts?" Madam Malkin asked. Harry nodded.

"Mr. Malfoy, I thought you'd already gotten yours," she said, frowning at me in confusion.

I shrugged at her. "Yeah, I did. I'm just here with him."

"You don't think your mother will wonder where you are?" Harry asked as Madam Malkin led him to step up onto a little platform and pulled a huge set of robes over his head.

"She's used to me wandering off," I said, unconcerned. "She won't worry," I added, since this seemed to be what Harry wanted to know. "I was going to the broom shop when I ran into you. Father is supposed to be buying me the newest Nimbus model, even though first years aren't supposed to have their own brooms. Do you have a broom?" I asked.

"No," he replied.

"Play Quidditch at all?" I asked.

"What's Quidditch?" he asked curiously.

"Well, it's a sport played on—why don't you know what Quidditch is?" I demanded, forgetting my explanation. He shrugged, staring pointedly at the wall while Madam Malkin pinned his sleeves up. "It's just a stupid rumor that you were sent to live with Muggles after your parents died, isn't it?" I demanded, not letting it go.

"No," he replied.

"Did they tell you about magic?" I asked quietly, rage boiling in my veins like poison, making me dig my fingernails into my palms and curl my toes painfully in my shoes.

"No," he said again. "I didn't know anything about magic or Hogwarts until a couple of days ago. The grounds keeper from Hogwarts brought me here, but he couldn't stay," he told me, casting a sad glance at me now.

"How could they let that happen?" I hissed, so angry I could barely breathe. "That's not right!" I exclaimed, startling Harry as well as Madam Malkin. As soon as I realized that I'd just let my emotions take control I squashed my anger and fixed an impassive mask on my face while Harry's robes were finished. He paid for them and we left. "You'll need to be in Slytherin, so I can watch out for you at Hogwarts," I told him as we headed for the book store, Flourish and Blotts.

"Er…thanks. What's Slytherin?" he asked. I sighed away a new burst of anger at the injustice of this boy's state before I replied.

"It's one of the four houses that Hogwarts students are divided into," I explained. "I'll be in Slytherin; my whole family has been. There's Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. You'll want to be in Slytherin," I told him. He nodded, taking this in.

"You didn't finish telling me about Quidditch," he reminded me hopefully as we went about finding his books. I nodded, and launched into a full explanation about the sport, leaving out no details about the four balls, the best teams, and the best brooms. I ended up reliving every Quidditch World Cup I could remember being to, grinning at the awed interest on my new friend's face.

He ended up buying a book on the Winchester Whirlwinds—the best team and my favorite—along with all his school books. After that, we went through getting potion ingredients, a cauldron, parchment and quills, a telescope, crystal phials, brass scales, dragon hide gloves, and a wand. By the time we got to the pet store, I was fully aware of the fact that my mother had probably been looking for me for quite some time; I was also aware of the fact that I didn't particularly care.

"So what's it going to be? A cat or an owl? I have an owl. They're bloody useful; carry your mail for you," I said as we stepped inside. Harry made a sound of delight when his eyes landed on a lovely white snowy owl, and there was no question about what he would get after that.

My mum found us not long after sunset, sitting on a bench eating raspberry flavored sherbet from the ice-cream shop and looking through Harry's new Quidditch book. "Draco Lucius Malfoy, where have you been?" a sharp voice demanded as I was jerked out of my seat by my ear.

"Oy! Lemme go!" I cried, managing to extract myself from her grasp with a minimal amount of pain.

"I have been looking for you for nearly half and hour!" Mum cried. "You told me that you would be in the broom shop!"

"I know, I'm sorry. See, I met Harry here, and he needed help finding his way around since he's never been here before," I explained, looking over my shoulder at Harry, who, by some unknown miracle, appeared to have caught my ice-cream cone when I'd dropped it. It was too bad I'd missed that; it had probably been an interesting catch. He looked guilty as well as a bit alarmed by my mother.

"Harry?" she repeated, looking around me at Harry, who managed to wave weakly at her.

"It's…nice to meet you ma'am," he said awkwardly, standing up and handing me my cone.

"Harry…Potter?" she asked slowly. Harry grimaced and pressed his hair down on his forehead self-consciously.

"Yeah," I replied for him. "You know the ridiculous rumors we heard about him being raised by Muggles? It was true! They let the Boy Who Lived be raised by Muggles who never even told him he was a wizard! Isn't that sickening?" I asked in a rush of righteous anger, blood rushing up into my face. "He needed some help. I just hoped you would be busy until I got back," I said more calmly when I saw how shocked my mother was by the outburst.

"Well, alright then, Draco," she said in resignation. "Come along now. It's time to go," she said. "How are you getting home?" she asked Harry then, surprising both of us.

"Oh, I'm going by the Underground," he replied, shuffling his feet in embarrassment at having to take Muggle means of transportation.

"I'll spare you the humiliation. Come on and I'll take you by side along Aparation," she offered, holding out both arms. I picked up one of Harry's bags and latched onto one my mother's arms. Apparently, she'd already sent my things home. Harry blinked in confusion.

"It's magical travel. It's kind of horrible and fun at the same time," I told him. "You might vomit." Harry kind of grinned, scooped up the rest of his bags and his own, and linked his arm through my "Where do you live?" she asked him.

"Number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging," he recited.

Mum nodded. "Here we go," she said in warning, and then we were sucked into darkness. A second later we were standing on the lawn of a quaint Muggle house that was flanked on either side by dozens just like it.

"The people that live here are even worse," Harry said sadly when he saw my mother's expression of disgust. "Thank you for bringing me here, Mrs. Malfoy. And thank you, Draco, for showing me around Diagon Alley. Today has been brilliant," he told me brightly, taking his bag from my hands. "See you at Hogwarts."

"See you," I said calmly, even though every part of me was thrashing against leaving him in this place. Throughout the day, I'd glimpsed bits of him that were deeply bruised and cut, although the wounds weren't physical. I wished with all my heart that this boy had simply been born my brother, so that he would never have lost his parents and we could have been together our whole lives instead of just one afternoon. I watched him stride off toward the house, shoulders slumped and an air of despair about him. That was my last image of him before I was sucked back into darkness with my mother.