Now fed and clad in clothing of his own fashion, Draco Malfoy trotted back to the Dursley residence with a partially-refreshed sense of hope. Potter might be starting to trust him, and to be willing to help him he must have some sort of faith, right?

When he came toPrivet Drive he stalled because he was unsure if Harry had meant that he should knock on his door or wait outside for him. He made his way to the driveway slowly and tried to look as harmless as possible meandering along the curb until a certain black-haired boy slipped out the front door.

"You've made it here just at the right time," noted Harry as he walked to meet the other boy at the foot of the driveway.

Draco was admittedly relieved to hear this, and smiled gently. In his hands was a small pile of clothes: the ones that Harry had lent him. Malfoy raised them up in offering to his helper.

"I brought these back, too. Thanks for that," Harry took them with one hand and dropped them down at his feet.

"Good. I would wonder about you if you hadn't." This solicited no reaction from Draco, on whose mind was only what the plan was from here.

The blond stood diligently as the taller teen strode over, grabbed his hand, and disapparated in a flash. The act was startling to the unsuspecting boy, and even upon arriving on the solid oak floorboards of a poorly-lit hallway he gasped and stood stock still.

"Okay, so…We're here!" his companion called.

"What…Where is this?" His eyes wandered about, taking in the quiet, undisturbed mustiness of ancient rooms, lit only by a few windows too dirty and heavily curtained to provide much to see by, especially at nighttime. Walls with peeling wallpaper, and seeming to barely be holding up the ceiling; pictures hanging precariously upon bent and rusting nails…It was a purely silent place, in quite an eerie way.

"Well, you said you couldn't go home, and I can't just take you back to my room. So feast your eyes on the House of Black…Or something. Yeah, not very many people even come here any more, so you'll have it all to yourself. Well, you and Kreacher…"

Malfoy arched his eyebrow, and Harry continued, "Kreacher is the house elf. So you'll be fine here; you can leave whenever. Well," he raised his hand, "See ya!"

He was making for a quick escape, but the Slytherin quickly grabbed his hand and he halted his attempt at apparation immediately. He was growing somewhat weary of this nonsense and forced himself to face Draco. Annoyance and frustration were everywhere upon his features.

"What, Malfoy?" he droned.

"Are you just going to leave me here? I don't even know where I am. You'll stay with me, right?"

"Uh…yeah, I was kind of figuring on just leaving you here, yep. What do you want me to do? I'm essentially hiding a death eater…I'm sure that has to be some sort of illegality."

Draco's face fell a little at the mention of death eaters. Without thinking, he clutched with more force the hand he had just recently captured.

"I…I didn't want to be a death eater, you know. I don't like the thought of it. I never thought I'd become one," the blond mentioned blankly.

Harry was a little taken aback. He could have sworn this boy was devil-spawn since the day they met. As he grew older he practically screamed "evil", so he couldn't imagine the proud and haughty boy not wanting to serve the Dark Lord alongside his family.

"What are you talking about? Your dear mum and dad are both Death Eaters, and everyone knows how much you love your father." To this, Draco shook his head, and never quite managed to look Harry in the eye.

"You're wrong, in a lot of ways. I won't ever become like him."

"That's an awful weird thing to say, coming from someone who's pretty much just Lucius Malfoy in a smaller skin."

"Only because he wanted me that way. I'm not trying to make anyone proud any more. I'm giving it up; I can't keep going like that, so I'm done."

This string of words sounded nothing like the Draco Malfoy that Harry knew. It sounded like someone with no hope left. Even though the confused boy was not thinking, every word he spoke resonated. It was all how he felt, and Harry didn't move a muscle. He could tell the boy was done; the shade in his eyes erased all brightness that might once have been there.

"What are you talking about, Draco?" He loosened his hand from the boy's grip and sat down on the creaky floor. He was shortly followed by his tired-looking companion.

"You know, all that bullshit…I don't think I'm a mean person."

"No, you only act like a douchebag," Harry laughed quietly. Unfortunately he was the only one that liked the sarcasm, and Draco's eyes were downturned.

"Yeah," he agreed, much to the other's surprise. Harry was starting to take this more seriously and leaned in.

"And you did it to impress your dad."

"Yep."

"I'm sure he was very proud that he taught you to be the most-hated kid at Hogwarts."

To this, the blonde just brought the base of his palm to his forehead and sighed. Hair fell in his face. He stayed this way for a short while without interruption before he ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it, and looking up again.

He didn't want to talk about it any more. He stood up, and while he did, a little light was there again in his features—Harry noticed.

"Bye, I guess. Thanks for everything," he raised his hand in farewell this time. Harry stood from the floor and dusted himself off, then strode to Malfoy and knocked his hand from the air, startling the boy.

"Shut up, now. I'll show you around."

A/N: Yyyyep. Another short one. Sorry it took me so long. I've been really busy. But I have more chapters ahead, so I'll update more frequently.

I don't think I'm going to actually finish this fic (like about 80% of all multi-chapter fics on FFN), but I don't want to leave you without an ending, so I'll do my best to get re-inspired.