Ron was the first to wake up, as far as he knew. There was no owl rapping irritably on the window, and there was no professor barging into the house... yet. Only the bright sunlight shining through the window. The small, digital clock that was on a nearby bed stand alerted Ron that it was "8:50," with a bright green light. The professor, whoever it would be this time, would be arriving in ten minutes time. Ron closed his eyes again before heaving himself out of his warm, cozy bed with reluctance. He padded across the wooden floor with bare feet, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and wondering briefly if Blaise was awake. His bedroom door creaked as he opened it and semi-conscientiously shuffled towards the bathroom, which was cluttered with odd toiletries and cleaning supplies. The boy dropped his hands from his face, and his eyes fell on an empty glass sitting on the kitchen sink. Ron smiled to himself as he seized the glass and began to fill it with water. Perhaps it was time for his revenge on Draco.

Moments later, a very loud yell jerked the household from its quiet wake. "Weasley! My hair is only lovely, instead of it's usual fantastically perfect, thanks to you! My father will hear about this-" Draco began. He was standing directly in front of Ron, jabbing his index finger at the latter's chest. The intended intimidating effect was ruined, however, by Draco's unusually red face and dripping hair.

Ron chuckled and shook his head. "First off, your hair looks far from lovely, I must say. Second... You're really going to tell your father that a Weasley dumped water on your precious head?" He mocked, a sarcastic glint shining in his eye. Draco glared and opened his mouth to reply angrily when Blaise beat him to the it.

"I feel it necessary to ask; does Lucius really hear of things as often as you plan?" The Slytherin stepped out of the shadows of a corner in the room; his eyebrow raised with a smirk planted firmly on his face when Draco turned towards him, scowling furiously.

"You really need to stop doing that, Blaise, popping out of corners. It would make people assume you've been watching me in my sleep."

Blaise's other eyebrow raised cockily. "I'm sure you don't think that, Draco," he purred derisively. He eyed the door expectantly as he said this, and seconds later, the door slammed open to reveal a straggled-looking Harry looking wildly from one side of the room to the other. His wand was held out in his hand, ready to defend himself if the need arose.

"My, my, Potter. Always the hero... even for the most," Blaise paused, with a decidedly irritating expression. "Surprising people." The Slytherin looked pointedly at Harry and Draco.

Meanwhile, Ron glanced curiously at Harry."Eh. Blaise makes a good point, Harry. You were ready to save Malfoy? That is, if there really was something mental in here... like an angry Hermione or something of the sort." He asked his friend; his face was rather clueless.

Harry flushed lightly, lowering his wand . "I wasn't thinking... Didn't realize it was Malfoy's room, anyway." No one else, besides Draco, was completely convinced. Ron was confused, but gave a shrug and wondered if he could convince Harry to cook breakfast. Blaise, on the other hand, seemed smug and satisfied that he had managed to sufficiently manipulate most everyone in the house at an early hour.

"I'm sure, Potter." Blaise smirked. Then a rather small knock came from downstairs. Draco's scowl disappeared, replaced with a look of frustration.

Ron guessed his thoughts happily and commented slyly, "You don't have time to dry your hair, Malfoy."

The scowl reappeared on Draco's face as Ron pushed past him easily and headed towards the front door.

For the first time that morning Harry looked a Draco, having been confused by Ron's mocking statement. He took in the dripping wet hair and clothing... He also noticed the damp spot on the bed near Draco's pillow and the boy's angry expression. A grin spread across his face; Draco was wearily aware of the grin before Harry exploded into laughter. Now, Draco looked offended.

"That's it," Draco raised his hands with determination. "I'm not going downstairs. I will not allow the professor to see my hair like this."

Harry attempted to muffle his laughter by clamping a hand over his mouth. Draco raised an eyebrow. "Really, I don't see how it's amusing, Harry," he huffed, still looking offended.

Harry managed to noticeably calm down a bit before commenting lightly, "I don't know, Draco. You seemed to find it hilarious when you did the same thing to Ron." He trailed off, looking to the side. Draco seethed, though his cheeks colored slightly. "Besides," Harry added, thinking. "The professor won't like it if you don't show up."

"Out," the other boy demanded with clenched teeth and clenched fists. Harry obeyed with a taunting grin, knowing that he had won the battle.

After combing his hair, drying his face and torso, and stiffly pulling on his new muggle clothing, Draco crept quietly down the stairs, unwilling to draw any attention to himself. He spotted the other three boys and quickly assumed a stony glare. Ron and Harry were slumping lazily couch, looking like drunks when compared to Blaise, who was sitting rigidly upright at the opposite end of the couch. Draco marched into the room and took a seat in an empty armchair that was rather isolated.

A high, squeaky voice voice greeted him as soon as he sat. "Good morning, Mr. Malfoy! You seem chipper this morning," Draco blinked in confusion, dropping his glare when Professor Flitwick addressed him. "Well, we must get on with our morning now that all four of you are here." The professor clapped once and turned towards the couch.

"Mr. Malfoy, why don't you go sit next to Mr. Potter? We all need to be able to see one another while conversing; it's absurd to do differently, I think," Professor Flitwick ordered politely with a wave of his arm. Draco grudgingly shuffled towards the couch and paused in front of Harry, who was still sprawled on his third of the couch. Harry didn't move, although he acknowledged Draco with a smirk. "Mr. Malfoy, take your seat," the teacher repeated. Draco glared stonily at Harry again before sitting on the very edge of the couch. Had he leaned back, Harry's arm would be draped around his shoulders. Not to mention if he leaned back, Harry and he would be pressed up side to side. Although, Draco nearly snorted, perhaps if he had leaned back, Harry would move.

"Okay, boys, today will be your fifth task of the week," Professor Flitwick began. "Each of your parents," he stopped and looked at Harry, "or guardians consented to allow a dose of Veritaserum to be administered to you. The purpose of this task to help you all grow closer and begin to trust one another," Flitwick recited.

"Sir," Blaise interrupted. There was a flash of irritation in his eye that did not escape Flitwick's attention. "Isn't that rather... Counterproductive, sir? Forcing us to tell the truth doesn't qualify as trusting one another. Besides, isn't use of Veritaserum on students illegal?"

"Mr. Zabini, allow me to explain before contradicting me... Two points from Slytherin." Blaise narrowed his eyes. "The use of the potion is not illegal in this case because, like I said previously, your parent or guardian consented to its use. However, don't fall under the conception that we're giving you free reign of each other's secrets. No! I placed a charm on the drink. You won't be able to ask what ever you want. You won't even be asking the questions! No, the Hogwart's professors have prepared a pre-set list of questions that you will answer in the privacy of your rooms; all of your answers will be written down by a diction quill, so you can't guess whose handwriting is whose," Flitwick explained cheerfully.

"Of course, you will discuss the answers, some of which will have been anonymous... figure out who answered what, while you're at it. Does everyone understand?" He looked between the four boys and continued with an excited clap, "Splendid! I'll just be going. Everything you need will be on the kitchen table," Flitwick squeaked merrily, already heading towards the front door. "Good luck, boys!" Then he was gone.

After an hour's procrastination, Harry, Ron, Draco, and Blaise finally assembled around the kitchen table, each with a wary expression that was focused on the several pieces of parchment, which were weighted down to the table with four small bottles of clear liquid and fours quills. Sighing, Harry was the first to step forward and read the parchment aloud.

Your professor has already explained what you are to do.

The questions are placed on each of your beds.

You will answer them individually.

You've had several days to get to know one another. Now let's see how well you actually have.

"This is ridiculous," Ron muttered immediately to himself after Harry finished reading. He glared at the note furiously.

"Why, Weasel? Have you got something to hide?" Draco sneered. He was glaring just as furiously at the top parchment, however.

"Less than you, Malfoy," the Gryffindor grumbled in reply; he snatched up what he needed and disappeared from the room. After sniffing haughtily, Draco disappeared, as well, followed by Blaise and Harry, who was frowning at the bottle as he remembered Professor Snape threatening to slip the Veritaserum into his pumpkin juice.

Question 1: Did you have any childhood pets? What did the pet(s) mean to you?
Question 2: What are some things you like to do as a secret hobby?

Question 3: Are you single?

Question 4: What do you think about your family?

Question 5: How do you feel about Hogwarts?

You must answer all of the questions.

After the four boys had finished answering their questions, the scrolls of parchment flew downstairs into the living room, changing colors and order as they flew towards the coffee table. Grudgingly, the students took their seats around the coffee table, idly staring at the collection of parchment in front of them. No one moved for five minutes before a voice that sounded similar to Professor Dumbledore's began, "Guess whom the answer to Did you have any childhood pets? What did the pet(s) mean to you? belongs while writing down your guesses. You have three minutes to prepare. Correct answers will be revealed after you write your answers." Harry tore up a blank sheet of parchment that was sitting on the table and handing it to the others. Ron nodded his thanks and looked around the room for a quill. Harry spotted and retrieved four pens from a nearby shelf and distributed them among the four. Ron, Blaise, and Draco examined the pens carefully, each unsure how to use it, but unwilling to admit it.

" First answer: Ah, I had a canary when I was six years old. I hated it, seeing as it never shut up. Why my mother bought me a muggle animal is beyond me... I have a rather handsome owl, now. At least they're useful... birds. Why does my family seem like to pet birds so much? They're just flying rodents, for Merlin's sake!"

"Second answer is: I'd never had any pets until Hogwarts, seeing as my..er... living quarters were rather small, and my relatives wouldn't let me have one. My aunt had a dog that liked hunting- er- chasing me down, though."

"Third answer: Do house-elves count? If they do, then they stopped my mother from having to socialize with me, which I'm torn between being a good thing or terrible."

"Forth answer: I never had an animal until third year... so even though my owl is a little twit, being able to call him my own is enjoyable and different."

"You done?" Harry inquired as soon as he had placed the paper in the middle of the table. Blaise pocketed the pen looking pleased with himself, as he also put the paper in the middle of the table.

"I am," Blaise said calmly, watching as Ron and Draco wrote down their answers on the paper, now understanding the use of the pen. They glanced up at Harry and nodded, dropping their paper into the pile, which glowed and spat out a different piece of paper at each boy.

"Number one was Draco Malfoy. Number two was Harry Potter. Number three was Blaise Zabini. Number four was Ron Weasley. Please discuss your answers."

Harry looked bored. "I was surprised someone missed number one, Draco, for the first question... Did anyone hear him talking about albino peacocks at Malfoy Manor just the other day?" He paused; the others eyed him wearily, especially Draco, as he couldn't remember speaking of his father's ridiculous peacocks at all in the past week.

There was a brief moment of silence. "Potter, I never speak of my father's peacocks if I can avoid it. They don't actually do anything. Pointless creatures to have roaming the estate; I mean, they don't even help with security. I suppose an intruder may be hindered by confusion, but that is all," Draco finally said cautiously, thinking to himself of the multiple times the peacocks had chased him through the lawns of Malfoy Manor. Rather traumatizing, he thought. Harry stared at him for a moment before shrugging.

"Nothing to interesting about number two," Harry said quickly, "But number three- sorry to hear about your mother, Zabini."

Blaise held up a hand, unwilling for anyone to discuss his family matters. "Nothing interesting about number two, is there? How small were your living quarters? You could have gotten a small animal." Harry glanced at Blaise and saw, by the glint in his eye, that Blaise knew this was a touchy subject for Harry.

"Small enough," Harry ground out, now glaring at Blaise. The other boy simply raised an eyebrow, provoking him to give a specific answer.

"Come now, Harry, Dumbledore set this up so we would trust each other," Blaise smirked. Harry didn't notice Draco looking at him with a curious expression.

"You really want to know? I was in a cupboard under some stairs for almost eleven years of my life," Harry finally retorted angrily.

Blaise wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that, so he settled upon, "It appears your dose of Veritaserum hasn't worn off yet." Harry pursed his lip and flushed, avoiding Ron's confused look.

"Maybe not. But, if my dose didn't wear off, then there's the chance that yours didn't, either. What did you mean by 'stopped my mother from having to socialize with me?"

Blaise barely concealed a grimace and answered slowly, "She was busy with other people. The only thing she did was pay for me. House-elves took care of other obligations. Very cunning of you, Potter." He said smoothly, straightening his back even more so than it was before and looking coldly at Harry, who looked rather regretful of his action and shook his head stubbornly. Draco shifted awkwardly in his chair; Blaise never talked about his home-life.

They were saved from any further discussion by the glowing of the parchment on table: "Moving on to question number two. This time, tap your wand against the parchment after you hear the different answers to each question and guess who answered what. Only then will the correct answers be revealed."

"First answer: I read muggle fiction. They really do have too much romance in thier novels. By the way, whenever the rest of you hear or read this answer, I will assure you that I will kill you with no regrets should it leave this house before we get back to Hogwarts. When we're there, I shall simply Obliviate you."

"Second answer: I scrapbook! No! I didn't mean to say that! Er, I meant to say I...uh... cook. I'm not even sure why, to be honest. I hate cooking, but I do it anyway."

"Third answer: Secret hobby? I suppose gambling over really small things. I mean small things. It's not a problem, honest! Why did I say that? Of course it was honest! I'm on this bloody Veritaserum!"

"Fourth answer: I sincerely hate Dumbledore for this, let it be noted. I enjoy sketching and singing, albeit the only chance I get to do the latter is when I cast a silencio in the shower. Though one time I did forget to cast the charm... one of my dorm mates walked in," Dumbledore's voice gave a sinister sort of chuckle. "Not that he remembers," the voice paused. "Anymore."

Draco spoke as soon as Dumbledore finished. "I bet Blaise is our closet artist; aren't you, Blaise?" Blaise said nothing, but shrugged elegantly. Ron and Harry exchanged a glance before staring at Blaise in contemplation. They nodded.

"Draco probably is our gambler, considering he has the most money. You should really quit, by the way. Also, Draco, I recommend your never taking Veritaserum again. It makes you sound drunk compared to how you normally speak," Harry broke in, remembering the informal manner that the second answer had been spoken in. Draco scowled and remained silent. Next to Harry, Ron's ears turned red, however.

Blaise spoke, gazing coolly at Harry, "I believe Ron is the cook, assuming he must contribute to his family chores. That leaves you to be the muggle romantic. My, Potter, I never realized that the "Boy-Who-Lived" had such high priorities."

Harry muttered something that sounded like, "Suit yourself," before taping the parchment with his wand, ignoring Blaise's cold demeanor.

"The first answer belonged to Blaise Zabini. The second belonged to Harry Potter. Ronald Weasley's answer was the third, and Draco Malfoy's answer was the fourth. How many of these did you guess correctly? And for those of you who lied about you answer, ask yourself why you fibbed."

Ron snickered. "Muggle romances. Really, Blaise? You've just lost any respect I had for you." Blaise glared at Ron with no malice. "Emotionless Slytherin, my ass." Ron laughed easily, not noticing Harry moving over and standing near Draco.

"Singing is actually a hobby of yours, then? Drawing, too?" Draco didn't respond, but gazed sternly at his folded hands, which were placed neatly in his lap. "Are you any good at sketching or is another thing a Malfoy can't do?" Harry joked.

"Please, Harry, any Malfoy, especially myself, can do anything better than most anyone," Draco scoffed. The other boy snorted in disbelief.

"Except in dueling, academics, quidditch... need I go on?" Harry asked innocently.

"The teachers favor Gryffindors, but the point is people recoil in admiration every time they accidentally catch a glimpse of one of my drawings." Harry's eyes twinkled.

"Prove it, then."

"What? Why would I show any sketches of mine to you? Merlin's beard!" Draco exclaimed, surprised.

"Scared, Malfoy, of showing an ex-rival your meager drawings?" Harry quoted. He realized this sort of dialogue seemed to be becoming a rather frequent occurrence.

"You wish."

-8-8-

"Question number three this is: Are you single? Your answers will be played back without serious discussion." The voice of Professor Dumbledore returned; Harry could have sworn he heard some mischief in the headmaster's voice.

"Blaise Zabini answered: Single? Am I single? What sort of question is that, honestly? If you must know, I am technically single. Not for long, however. I'm sure one Ronald Weasley will soon relent to the seduction powers of Blaise Zabini."

Ron flushed upon hearing this and glared faintly at Blaise, who appeared unaffected. Meanwhile, Harry closed his eyes and leaned back on his seat, hoping to forget what he had just heard. Draco just shook his head idly, trying desperately to remember what exactly he had said as a response when influenced by the Veritaserum. The potion always made the taker's memory slightly hazy.

"Harry Potter answered: I think so? I kissed Cho Chang, whom I suppose I liked, around Christmas, and there's been nothing since then. Not really sure if I want anything to happen, anyway... the kiss was rather wet. She was crying all over me. I may be starting to fancy- nevermind."

Harry cringed as his answer was repeated and kept his eyes shut. Draco's eyes, on the other hand, hardened. He pursed his lips, straining his memory once again for what he had answered.

"Ron Weasley answered: Yes? No? God dammit. Bloody fucking Zabini- I don't know how to answer this! Bloody hell..."

Blaise, in response to this, smirked and looked quite triumphant. Ron, however, groaned and slumped back against his seat, covering his eyes with his hands. Draco chuckled and glanced over at Harry, who still had his eyes shut. The Slytherin wondered and hoped that Harry had fallen asleep.

"Draco Malfoy answered: No. That ridiculous Pansy Parkinson seems to think I am in a relationship with her, however. She is quite honestly seriously misguided, I must say. Although I may not be in a relationship, I do hope something will emerge between Harry and myself," there was a pause before Dumbledore's voice continued. "I sincerely hope I didn't just say what I think I said. I promise, if I did say that, then I never considered it before, so bugger off."

The normally pale boy flushed scarlet and stood. "I believe I will excuse myself now," he said in a firm, deadpan voice. However, as Draco began to walk away, refusing to look at Harry, the voice erupted from the pile of parchment once more.

"No one is permitted to leave the company of the others until all of the questions' answers have been revealed," the voice of Dumbledore stated calmly. "If you try, you'll only find yourself entering the same room with the parchment every time you try to exit. It's much easier just to stay put."

Draco scowled and tried to exit the room despite the warning. As expected, he only reappeared in the room he had just left. Muttering curses at Dumbledore ("I swear, the old coot planned this... either that, or he's listening in,) he made his way back to his seat and sat down briskly. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Blaise's smug stare, Ron's gaping, and Harry's confused gaze. Draco closed his eyes briefly and took a breath. "I'd try to remind you, Potter and Weasley, that staring is rude, but I assume you never learned. Weasley's mother is about as barbaric as her son, and Potter's mother is dead. Blaise, stop smirking; it's never suited you." Ron's eyes flashed angrily.

With that, Draco settled back on his seat, gazing furiously at his hands, mentally berating himself and swearing never to drink Veritaserum again. Come to think of it, he wondered why he had drunk the potion to begin with. Surely if he didn't, no one would know? Blaise probably thought of that, explaining why he was so smug. Draco groaned quietly before Dumbledore's voice appeared once more.

Harry didn't seem to care at all about the next question; he was still looking at Draco with a befuddled expression.

"Proceeding now to question number four, 'What do you think about your family?' No discussion is necessary," Dumbledore's voice spoke. "Ron Weasley answered: Well, this is an interesting question. Er. Everyone in my family is fantastic, simply amazing- annoying, but amazing. And then there's me, the second to youngest son and average. I think the only thing I'll be remembered by, once I leave Hogwarts, is helping Harry out here and there. Harry's like a brother to me, amazing. Bloody hell, I love my family, believe that, and I wouldn't have it another way."

"Draco Malfoy answered: My father is inspirational, if a bit demanding. Or rather very demanding, but Malfoy's must always be in control. It's one of the first ten rules of being a Malfoy. Anyway, I care for my father, though I don't always agree with all of his... Notions. I think he wants me to be exactly like him. My mother, meanwhile, is lovely and elegant. I'm quite fond of her. Should anyone insult my mother... Or my father, I suppose... He should expect a incredibly painful hex coming his way. And as for Aunt Bella, she's terrifying," Dumbledore's voice continued without a halt.

"Blaise Zabini answered: Family? I suppose you're referring to my mother? Oh, we get along fine as acquaintances. Nothing more. Although, I do suppose I have her to thank for my amazing seduction skills and good looks. She does seem to pick up the most wealthy, attractive, and interesting people..."

"Lastly, Harry Potter said: The Dursleys are thick, narrow-minded, and terrible people. Even though they're related to me by blood, I consider the Weasleys to be more of a family than the Dursleys. Ron and his family are some of the best people I have ever met."

There was a silence; hearing each other's familial issues seemed a bit too personal for conversation. Each boy stared pointedly at their lap or shoes, except for Blaise, who looked determinedly at the center of the table. He was itching to pull out his wand and set the paper's on fire.

"And now for the last question, How do you feel about Hogwarts? You are at liberty to discuss answers if you wish." Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Draco Malfoy answered: Hogwarts is my childhood. When I'm thirty and still have great hair, I'm sure Hogwarts will one of the first things I think of. I suppose by that time, I'll probably only remember the pleasant things that happened, but there are plenty of objectionable occurrences and teachers at Hogwarts, of course. That oaf, Hagrid, for instance, and his bloody hippogriff. Parkinson for another- I'll regret saying this, but it'll kill me if Hogwarts is destroyed... That's figurative, of course."

Blaise, who was sitting in the chair near Draco, leaned towards the other Slytherin and muttered, "You're going soft, Draco. You should have been in Hufflepuff." Draco stiffened, but said nothing.

"Blaise Zabini said: Hogwarts is a brilliant school, which has somehow been able to make me even more perfect than I was before... Because of it's education, of course. Though I must admit, there have been more... Acceptable people at Hogwarts than in any other location which I have visited. I suppose Hogwarts is dear to me."

At this, Draco raised an eyebrow with a snicker, leaned towards Blaise and murmured in a low voice, "You're one to talk. 'Dear to me," he quoted, snickering. Blaise scowled briefly before returning his attention to the center of the table.

"Ron Weasley answered: Hogwarts is like a bigger version of the Burrow... but cleaner and fancier with more food, though it doesn't beat mum's. You got the people who are like my mum... The teachers, Percy, and Hermione... The family ghoul... Snape, Filch, and Bloody Baron... and the rest of the family, who are all different. Oh, I guess you also have the gits, like you Malfoy, and Umbridge,who are like the garden gnomes of my house."

"Ron,"said Harry, laughing, after Dumbledore finished speaking. "That has got to be one of the strangest and most accurate descriptions I have ever heard."

The red-haired boy flushed slightly and defended himself. "Well, it's true!" He huffed.

"Obviously, Weasley. You were on Veritaserum. Of course, you think it's true," Draco commented dryly, examining his nails idly.

Ron opened his mouth to retort, only to be cut off by Dumbledore's voice. "Harry Potter said: Hogwarts is a savior. It got me away from the Dursleys and introduced me to most everything that I love. If I don't get accepted to become into Auror training in two years, I think it'd be great to come back to Hogwarts and teach. I mean, my grades aren't top notch, sure. But I usually do alright, especially in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

With that last word, the pile of parchment burst into flames on the center of the table, which seemed to remain untouched by the fire. "You are free to have the rest of the day to yourselves, " came Dumbledore's voice for the last time.

Each boy stood hurriedly and returned to their rooms without further discussion.

-8-8-

Fifteen minutes later, Draco lay on his back in on his bed with a pillow over comfortably over his face. He was cursing Dumbledore for the entire muggle appreciation week plan, which had led to his downfall, in Draco's perspective. Suddenly, a rushed knock at the door roused him from his grousing.

Draco pulled the pillow from off his face and snapped, "Potter! I'm assuming it's you. Do Gryffindors always have to be so annoying by breaking the silence and peace? For all you know, I could be doing schoolwork or trying to sleep? Ah, yet again, I'm trying to reason that you have manners. And yet again, I seem to have forgotten that you have none, seeing as your mother was dead before she could teach you any."

Harry's voice came through the door, "Do Slytherins always have to be so dramatic? Wait, wait- I apologize. It's only you who makes a show out of everything, from what I've seen. Besides, you're obviously not sleeping now, and we weren't assigned any school work over the week."

Harry stepped into the room, caught sight of the other boy sprawled on top of his bed. Draco's pillow was placed as on his stomach, and his hair looked ruffled. As soon as Draco realized he was not alone in the room, he rushed to dignify himself by straightening up and trying to calm his hair. He glared at the brunette. Harry glared back.

After a long pause, Draco finally broke the silence. "Yes? Is there a particular reason you barged in here and interrupted me? I was and still am very busy, you know."

"Busy doing what? Combing your hair?" Harry snorted with disbelief. " No, I take that back... Maybe your trying to style it like mine," He paused. "Yeah, I did have a point in coming here, as a matter of fact, I wanted to see your sketches."

"My sketches," Draco repeated dully, staring at Harry, who shifted uncomfortably. Draco blinked and then continued, "Oh, yes. Of course. My sketches. If you will just go get some of them from the bottom of the hallway closet, where I hid them... I'll get the few scattered around this room."

Harry nodded and complied. However, as soon as he had exited the room, the Gryffindor heard a soft clicking sound from behind. He spun around to find that Draco's room door had been shut and locked. Giving a sigh of exasperation and running his hand through messy black hair, Harry knocked on the door three times.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy! What's wrong with you? Irritable git," Harry muttered to himself as he leaned against Malfoy's door.

"Oi, Harry! I have your laundry; I forgot to tell you yes- Mate, is there a reason you're slumped against the Ferret's door?" Ron barreled through the hallway with an armful of clothes suddenly.. Harry straightened immediately, still leaning on the door.

"No, no. Of course not. What were you saying about the laundry?" Harry quickly distracted his friend, eyeing the rather chaotic pile of cloth.

"Oh, well," Ron grinned sheepishly and shoved the clothing towards Harry. "You might notice that some of your stuff is...er... pink, but it's alright. You can still wear it."

Harry laughed loudly and Ron's embarrassed smile grew larger. "You didn't wash the reds with the white, did you?" He finally asked, still chucking.

Ron shrugged and chortled, "Well, we might have... But it was mainly Blaise's fault."

Laughing again, Harry called, "Good job, Blaise!"

"A job by Blaise Zabini is always a job well-done!" Came the answering, easy remark from behind Blaise's closed door. Ron rolled his eyes and leaned forward.

"Everybody's got some colorful clothing now. Even Malfoy, though I think I'll let Blaise handle that," Ron whispered loudly, wearily watching Draco's door.

Blaise's muffled voice sounded once more. "I heard that, Ron, and you'll do no such thing. Anyway, if I could hear that, then so could Draco."

Draco could, in fact, hear the entire conversation that was going on in the hallway, despite the pillow which had been replaced on his head. He payed little attention to it until his name was mentioned. As soon as his clothing was mentioned, Draco was on his feet and striding to the door. He opened it furiously to find a smirking Harry and a very red-faced Weasel, who was muttering, "Bloody hell," under his breath.

"Weasley. What did you do to my clothing?" Draco inquired with flashing eyes, stepping forward angrily.

" Nothing. It's pink, Malfoy, to suit your personality. Blaise will buy you new clothes to replace the lost," Ron replied defensively.

"Ronald Weasley, I never said I'd buy him new things," Blaise opened his bedroom door, looking annoyed. Ron smiled smugly in response.

"You are now," he told Blaise, who frowned.

Draco gritted his teeth. "Damn right you will, Blaise." The fair-haired boy stepped back into his room and locked his door. Closing his eyes, Draco calculated the distance to his bed and stumbled towards it, preparing and succeeding in collapsing face first onto it.

Someone coughed.

"Harry Potter," Draco said slowly, opening his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. We've met before. I slipped into your room when you were shouting at Ron," Harry waved off the the threat hidden in the other's voice. Draco scowled and shifted so he was sitting to the right of Harry. " Anyway, besides seeing your sketches, I also wanted to tell you to stop sulking like a child."

"Get out of my room, Potter." Draco sighed, standing up and gesturing to the door.

"Thanks, your hospitality overwhelms me," Harry replied, rolling his eyes. He sat on a nearby chair, making himself comfortable. "As a Gryffindor, I also feel that it is my obligation to be incredibly nosy and ask you what did you mean when you were on the veritaserum."

"As a Slytherin, Potter, I feel that it's my obligation to refuse to answer," Draco retorted, avoiding Harry's eyes. "And it's also my obligation as a Malfoy to point out you must be incredibly thick to ask for an explanation."

"Ah, yes, but I'm just a incredibly thick Gryffindor, remember?" Harry replied, raising an eyebrow and polishing his glasses absently.

Draco thought about lying, but there really wasn't another way to take "Although I may not be in a relationship, I do hope something will emerge between Harry and myself." He scowled, said nothing, and glared at Harry, who had just finished putting on his glasses.

"Yes?" Harry prompted, now looking up at Draco with imploring eyes.

"Absolutely not. The words were distorted by the potion. I simply meant that I wasn't looking for a relationship, and I hopes are rivalry would end. 'Something will emerge,'" He quoted himself. "Friendship," Draco feigned reluctance as he lied, flinching slightly as he spoke the last words.

The other boy's eye's seemed to lose a bit of their twinkle before he spoke, "I'll hold you by your word that you'll show me your sketches later, yeah?" He stood, faced Draco, looked him over twice over then headed towards the door saying, "Thank Merlin for that," coldly.

Draco bit the inside of his cheek.