A/N: If you haven't noticed by now, the ". . ." between paragraphs represents a change in perspective. There are a couple of chapters that are only in Harry's perspective, there's one in Ron's, and most of them are in Draco's. The perspective is third-person omniscient, the same perspective as JK Rowling used in Harry Potter. It follows a character, and may tell their thoughts/feelings, but isn't first person.



    Draco awoke to Harry Potter. Sat on his bed. He could only barely see, though- he was almost blinded by sunlight streaming in through the window. "Morning," Harry said. He lifted up his fist, blinding Draco further as the light glinted off of something in his hand. Something... red. Red like the sky he remembered escaping. The realisation of what it was hit him like that punch from Granger in third year.

    "You got the Stone?" he cried. 

    "Yeah," Potter started to say, grinning triumphantly, but Draco interrupted.

    "Typical!" he said, throwing his hands in the air. He swung himself off of his bed. "Of course you get the Philosopher's Stone. Who brewed the potion? Me. Who went into the potion? Me! Who nearly died?! ME! But oh, no, Merlin forbid you don't get the Stone, because you're famous Harry Potter-"

    He threw himself onto his bed again, crossed his arms, and stared sulkily at the light of the waves on his walls. 

    "Are you- are you pouting?" Harry asked incredulously. Draco ignored him.

    "You are," Harry confirmed to himself, and promptly started laughing.

    Draco continued to ignore him, watching the little blobs moving across the wall. 

    Harry's laughter was cut short, however, when the boys heard a creak outside the door. 

    Their reactions were immediate. Both boys reached for their wands, but while Harry slid quietly off the bed and readied his offensive stance, Draco started casting shield charms and silencing charms around his room. There was already a permanent silencing charm around it, but- well, what if it wore off at some point? Draco hadn't checked the spells of his room when he'd Apparated Harry here. He'd been a little busy recovering from a near-death experience. 

    "Young Master Draco?" said a timid little voice. 

    "Oh," Draco said quietly, quickly removing all the wards. Harry shot him a strange look, but didn't comment. His only acknowledgement was that his wand dipped. "Come on in, Jisky," Draco called a little louder. The door creaked open, and a small house-elf stepped in. Harry's wand dropped completely.

    "Jisky is sorry to be intruding, but Jisky was sent to notify Mistress Malfoy whether there was an intruder in the Malfoy House," she said, fiddling with her cardigan. Draco had given it to her when he was very young, during a very cold winter. She'd been his personal house elf ever since. 

    He spotted her hands shaking. They looked worryingly frail. Actually, she looked far skinnier on the whole- even worse than she and all the other elves had been when Voldemort stayed at the Manor. He'd insisted that elves were so below wizards, they didn't deserve food. How could Jisky have deteriorated so quickly? She'd been fine before Draco left for eighth year at Hogwarts, and Narcissa would never let a house elf- not one that Draco held so dear- go without food. Draco frowned.

    "Okay, Jisky," he said. "Well, before you report that- when was the last time you ate, Jisky?"

    Jisky knew that Draco hated seeing her unwell. She hesitated a moment before saying, "Yesterday."

    "Jisky, tell me the truth."

    She looked up at him with wide eyes, which slowly filled with tears under Draco's gaze. "Oh, Young Master Draco," she said, her voice quivering. "Jisky is so very sorry! Jisky never meant to go so long without food, but Jisky was just so worried about Young Master in Hogwarts, and Jiskey couldn't eat, not when Jisky's Young Master was away and maybe hurting!"

    Draco frowned and Harry sat back, gaping. What month was it? December? And he'd started school in September. Jisky hadn't eaten anything in that time period?

    She must've seen the aghast expression Draco wore, because she immediately said, "Jisky is being very very sorry, Master Draco! Jisky will just punish herself-" she went to pick up a book (Quidditch Through the Ages, Draco saw) but Harry (looking like he was far too accustomed to a house-elf habit though he'd never owned a house-elf) snatched it away before she could. She wailed and went for another book (Hogwarts, a History) but Draco grabbed her frame carefully, stopping her from trying to hurt herself any more. 

    "Jisky, Jisky," he said soothingly, "Don't punish yourself. I'm not mad. C'mon, let's head down to the cellars and I'll get you some food, okay?"

    Jisky hesitated for only a moment before nodding. She led the boys out of the room, still sniffling quietly, and made her way down to the cellars.

    Harry hesitated a moment before entering. Too focused on Jisky, Draco didn't notice.



. . . 



    The cellar looked... strange, to say the least. Almost out-of-place, with its fresh-produce-lined shelves and small wooden cubby-holes. It was empty when Draco and Harry entered, but elves quickly started apparating in to take some food; just a loaf of bread or a block of butter and then snap! They were gone. Draco was unphased by this, but Harry flinched a little every time an elf apparated. 

    Draco pulled Jisky over to a large bench (unused by the house elves, apparently). It was a slab of wood on a couple of mismatched wooden legs, and looked like it might fall over any minute. Draco sat Jisky down and started dashing around the room, looking out for apparating elves, collecting ingredients.

    "Harry," he called at one point. "Harry, come here- I can't reach there, and you won't be able to either. Give me a lift?" 

    Harry, not focused, waved his wand at Draco with a wordless spell.

    Every house elf in the room dropped what they were holding when Draco screeched.

    "Harry Potter!" He cried. "Put me down, you oaf! I meant like a leg-up!"

    Harry looked over, blinking, and saw that instead of casting something like a Wingardium Leviosa to lift Draco up, he'd used Levicorpus. Draco had been lifted up... And was now dangling in the air by his ankle. Whoops.

    Harry rushed over, and then stood there uselessly. He didn't know the counter-curse.

    Draco was slowly turning pink from all the blood rushing to his head; "Do something!" he said. 

    "What?" Harry asked.

    "Anything!" Draco said. 

    Harry had a flashback to first year, when he had been in a position similar to Draco's, while Ron was in his. What had Ron done then? Oh, yeah.

    "Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry said. The loaf of bread Draco had been trying to get floated down off the shelf and onto Jisky's table. 

    Draco stared incredulously at Harry, apparently having been shocked into silence at Harry's response. "You," he declared, "Are the most useless human being I think I have ever met. You're even worse than Longbottom."

    "Hey!"

    "Hey yourself," he said. "I'm getting dizzy. Give me my wand." A house elf immediately appeared; it grabbed Harry's wand and passed it to Draco.

    "Oi!" Harry shouted. "That's mine!" But the elf just passed the wand to Draco and retreated.

    "Liberacorpus!" Draco shouted, pointing his wand at himself. He descended slowly, flipping sideways so he landed on his back softly. Then he looked at the wand in his hand. "Hey," he said, "This isn't my wand!" 

    "That's what I said," Harry put in.

    An older-looking house elf said, "The wand was originally belonging to Harry Potter, but now it has allegiance to both Young Master Draco and Harry Potter."

    "What?" Draco asked, exchanging a confused look with Harry.

    "When Harry Potter defeated Young Master Malfoy in Malfoy Manor," the elf said, "Young Master Draco's wand swore allegiance to Harry Potter as well as Young Master Malfoy."

    "Ohh," Harry said, eyes widening. "So now my wand swears allegiance to Draco, too?"

    The house elf nodded.

    "What?" Draco asked again. "Wait, never mind. Jisky, one more minute, and I'll be there. Well, Harry, now you're gotten the bread, I've got to make the sandwich. But we Malfoys have a special ingredient, so you need to get out so I can add it. Okay? Okay. Out, out. Shoo. The door is there." He ushered Harry out of a small, tucked-away door Harry hadn't seen and shut the door behind him.



    The door led into a cramped stone corridor. It was dark when Harry first entered, but when Draco shut the door behind him, a small bronze sconce flickered to life, lighting the passageway with a dimly flickering flame.

    At the end of the corridor was a small stone opening. 

    Harry, of course, went through.



. . .



    "Harry?" Draco asked, opening the door again. "Harry, I've finished the sandwich, you can come out now," he said. No one answered. 

    Draco stepped further in, lighting his- Harry's- wand. The corridor was empty. Draco had the sudden realisation that there was only one place Harry could have gone to. Oh, Merlin. 

    Draco took a deep breath and followed through the corridor.



. . .



    The room was dark. 

    And cold.

    And damp.

    It smelled of blood.

    And sweat.

    And decay.

    The floor and walls were a blank rough grey stone that seemed to leech warmth out of Harry's body; he found himself shivering in seconds. But that might also have been due to the fact that he knew where he was; yes, he'd been here before.

    This was the Malfoy Manor dungeons. He and Ron had been brought here while Bellatrix- 

    Stop, he told himself. Don't go down that route. Not here. Not now.

    He was at the back of the room; the front was hidden, enveloped in a darkness he couldn't see through. He went to grab his wand, and found nothing there. He cursed, remembering that Draco had his wand... and Draco was on the other side of the door at the end of the corridor. Well, there was nothing for it. Harry gathered all his Gryffindor courage and walked- more cautiously than he would have done normally- into the darkness.

    

    . . .



    Draco knew, as he watched Harry walk away from him, not to call out. He couldn't make any sudden movements, couldn't light his wand or cast spells. He knew well enough that Harry didn't need a wand to defend himself.

    So he resigned himself to walking quietly behind Harry. This probably wouldn't go well.



. . .



    Harry heard footsteps behind him. He stopped, and they did too; he held his breath, and heard the slightest exhale of breath.

    "Harry-" Draco said, reaching out, but Harry rounded on him as soon as he felt the brush of Draco's hand against him.

    He'd had this happen to him with Wormtail. It wouldn't happen again.

    His brain didn't register that he was attacking Draco, not Wormtail, until he had Draco up against the stone wall; at some point he'd disarmed Draco, and was now holding his wand against Draco's throat. 

    Draco's eyes widened and his breath caught; he stiffened, paling against Harry's darkly-skinned hand. 

    Harry recoiled quickly, almost flinching away from Draco and what he'd nearly done. He looked down at his hands, horrified, and stumbled away from Draco, who was eyeing him warily and rubbing his throat. He dropped his wand and knelt down, burying his head in his hands.



. . .



    Draco watched Harry carefully. He'd moved so quickly, Draco hadn't even registered Harry moving until he was pinned against the wall by his throat. 

    Harry had knelt, and he was slightly shaking; Draco was reminded, suddenly, of how Harry had looked before he'd broken down at Grimmauld Place. It'd been somewhat like this. 

    Well, Draco couldn't have that.

    So he'd just have to stop the breakdown before it started, no matter how hurt and slightly intimidated he was.

    "Did you know," Draco said, kneeling down next to Harry, "I was once chased by a flock of multicoloured chickens?"

    Harry's head jerked a little, and Draco heard a muffled "What?" 

    He smiled. So far so good. "Well, not really chickens. It's just- okay, let me start from the beginning."

    Draco had always been good at telling stories. His parents and friends had marvelled at how skilled he was at weaving pictures in the air with simply a couple of words; he could make you feel as if you were in an entirely different world. It got better when he was there; it was even better when it was about him. After all, Draco didn't love anything as much as he loved talking about himself. Even if Pansy did disagree and give him that look she gave him when he brought up Harry. It's not like the two were related or anything, though. 

    "Have I ever told you I sued someone at three years old? Yeah, It's related. So, imagine. I was about- what, three? Four? And I was playing around in the gardens while my mother gardened and my father worked in his office.

    "I get bored very easily. Climbing trees simply wasn't enough to occupy three-year old  me. And what does my father have an abundance of? Birds. And I had been told, very explicitly, not to go anywhere near the birds. Multiple times. Now, being a child of three, I was not going to listen to that. In fact, I decided from the moment that I had been told to stay away from the birds that I would get the birds, and make them my own. I would clothe them and feed them and love them and my father wouldn't do anything about it."

    Harry had slowly been lifting his head; now he was watching Draco silently. Progress, Draco supposed.

    "So, that one day when I was three and left unattended, I snuck away from my mother's field of view and over to the bird enclosure. My mother realised after a couple of minutes that I was gone; she ran up to my father's office and told him. They spent a while scheming about how to find me; in the end, they didn't need to. I nearly gave my father a heart attack.

    "See, that was also the first day I performed accidental magic. There was a lock on the birds' enclosure to stop them getting out. I managed to manifest my magic well enough to get past it and into the enclosure. Except, I never actually entered the enclosure. The birds got out.

    "So my lucky parents were able to behold the wonderful sight of me running, screaming, from a flock of very colourful exotic birds- flamingos, peacocks, parrots and toucans; the whole lot. And poor me was leading the flock. I glanced behind me when one of the faster birds nipped at my heel; I kept looking behind me, even as I ran. I veered off the main path and into a rather shallow ditch in our garden. But that's not the worst part.

    "In that ditch is a fountain. My father placed it there so he would be able to look out of the window and see the fountain; he said it helped him think. So he and my mother had the perfect place to watch from as I tumbled into the fountain. The fountain... full of murtlap."

    At this, Harry full-on laughed, just as Draco had hoped he would. But the story wasn't over yet. 

    "Yes, murtlap are pretty harmless; but they nip at your ankles if you get close. These murtlap started nipping at me everywhere. I was flailing and crying and screaming for help for a whole ten minutes before my mother came to my rescue; my father just stood by and watched. Actually, he has the memory stored permanently in part of his pensieve; he says he's never laughed so hard. He didn't even tell me off afterwards for letting all his birds out; none of them escaped, and he said I'd had punishment enough. 

    "A couple of weeks later, though, I heard him say he was going to sue someone at work; when I asked was suing was, he told me it was demanding recompense for being inconvenienced. Of course, I went around for the next couple of months asking my father to sue the birds, the fountain, and the fish; he ended up actually giving me some money to shut me up. And that," Draco concluded to a now grinning Harry (Mission accomplished, he thought triumphantly), "Is how I sued someone at three years old."

    Harry laughed; upon realising he had done, he looked at Draco as though Draco were a miracle-maker. Then he beamed at Draco; the same blinding smile Mirror-Harry had given him in the Land of the Aurae. Draco felt physically shaken.

    "Thank you," Harry said. And then, almost looking shy, he reached out and hugged Draco.

    Draco felt himself melting, and suddenly that Pansy he seemed to have in his mind spoke up- she said, "Doesn't seem like you hate him very much. In fact, I might even say you like him. Perhaps," she added, "as more than a friend." The fact that Draco didn't argue back was an answer enough for her.

    Draco didn't ask why Harry hugged him or thanked him. He didn't want to get into that. He just stood and said, "Come one then, Harry. I need to make sure Jisky actually ate her sandwich."



    Jisky had eaten; she was waiting patiently for Draco and Harry when they returned. "Jisky will be leading Harry Potter and Young Master Draco out of the House now," she said. She took both their hands and apparated them to the edge of the Malfoy grounds; Harry and Draco needed only to step out and they would be out of the apparition wards and able to apparate to just outside Hogwarts grounds.

    "Thank you, Jisky," Draco said. "I'll be gone until Christmas this time- not quite as long as before- but I'll be fine. Really. You just keep eating, okay?"

    Jisky nodded, waved goodbye, and Disapparated. 

    "Ready?" Harry asked Draco.

    "Ready," Draco replied, and together the two apparated back to the boundaries of Hogwarts,