Draco huffed, annoyed that he had to hide away like some fugitive. Of course, he should be used to it, living wherever he could, taking life one day at a time, desperately evading anyone who smelled of wizard. Because he was a fugitive. Still, getting shoved under Potter's bed like dirty laundry didn't put him in a better mood. The stupid part probably did it on purpose.

He could hear Potter going to the door, opening it and greeting whoever was there. "Auror Mythas Lester, right? What is this?"

"We've tracked an unregistered, stolen wand to this address. So, Potter, do you have an that wand in your possession?" the apparent Auror said.

"I...Yes, I found it in an alley, in a dumpster, I think someone was trying to get rid of it." Harry said nervously.

"Can I have it?" the other said rather impatiently.

Draco winced, he would have to give up his wand. He groaned, silently cursing the Ministry and Potter and the entire Wizarding World for that matter. He reached into his long fuzzy sock, where he'd stashed the wand. It didn't match him perfectly, but for stealing it off an unfortunate muggle-born, it was a pretty good fit. He'd miss it. He'd miss having some power after his title, his wealth, everything, had been stripped away. He only had the wand to remind him of what he used to have, his old life before the war.

Harry walked into the room, closing the door behind him. "I need your wand," he whisper-shouted.

Draco slid out from under the bed, frowning as he desperately tried to fix his hair. "Why should I give it to you?" he said defensively, suddenly cross.

Potter rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing. "I don't have time for this, give me the wand."

Huffing, Draco held it close to his chest. "No."

Growling, Harry pulled out his wand, muttering "Accio wand."

The wand flew out of Draco's grasp and into Harry's waiting hand. "Now just do as you're told. A Dark wizard like you should be in Azkaban right now."

"Then why aren't I?" Draco asked defensively.

Harry hesitated, confusion twinkling in his green eyes. Just as he was about to respond, the door opened and Auror Lester entered. "What's taking so long?"

He stared at Draco, who waved, attempting a smile that appeared more like a grimace. "Who is this?" the Auror asked.

Harry's face paled and he stuttered, "Uhh...This is my urm, friend from school...Dra, Ro... TOM RIDDLE! "

Draco shot him a confused glare, extending his hand, "Don't be so modest Harry," he said smirking, "we both know we're so much more than friends."

Potter looked as if he were about to pass out. He mouthed 'I'll deal with you later' before turning back to Auror Lester. "Uh yeah, that's uhm.." he swallowed hard, "Tom. ha...ha..ha, anyway, here's your wand...Okay bye."

He began shoving Lester toward the door. "Well anyway, I really am quite busy, I'll see you at work, boss!"

Closing the door behind Mythas, Harry turned to Draco, face angry red. "I HATE YOU!" he screamed, launching himself at the taller boy.

Draco wished he was back under the bed as Harry slammed into him. Draco may have been taller, but he certainly wasn't bigger, Harry was much stronger than he looked. Pressed down under the other's weight, Draco tried to breathe, unable as Harry's hand was flattening his neck. "Come on Potter," he groaned, "let me up," gasp, "and who the hell is Tom Riddle?"

"It's Voldemort's real name," Harry grunted, pushing harder on Draco's throat, expression confused. "Is it some sort Dark magic thing you're using on me? To make me all flustered?"

"What are you bloody talking about Scarface? I'm not doing anything, you're the one crushing me." Draco wheezed, struggling to get free.

Harry seemed to realize this and quickly got off Draco, helping him up sheepishly. Draco glared at him, "Why do you think I'm so Dark?"

"You're a Malfoy, you have the Mark, you're Dark. Suits you to be Tom Riddle though in my opinion you're much worse. Voldemort at least didn't torture me through school. Mostly."

Draco rolled his eyes, marching away from Harry. "If you hate 'Dark wizards' so much, why am I here? Why aren't I in the loony bin with my parents?"

"I..." Harry didn't finish his sentence, taking his glasses off and running a hand down his face, sighing.

He turned to the kitchen, waving his wand at the dishes. They immediately started to clean themselves, flying into cabinets. Soon, the granite counter-top was visible again. He flicked his wrist once more, sending the contents of a box into a pot of boiling water. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

"I've been living under a bridge, living on trash and whatever Trevor would spare me, what do you think?" Draco asked, still upset.

Soon, two bowls of Kraft mac and cheese were on the island, Harry waved to one of them, sitting down on a bar stool and digging in. Draco sat opposite him, hungrily devouring the pasta. It didn't taste great, but Draco devoured every spoonful Once he allowed himself a moment to breathe, he looked at Potter, who was watching him intently. Draco raised an eyebrow, "I want a wand," he said matter-of-factly.

Potter shook his head, "No."

"Yes."

"No, Malfoy. The last thing I need is the Ministry coming to my door again."he glanced at the door, "Lester is a beast, and he hates me. And I don't think he bought my Tom Riddle story."

Draco tugged at a piece of red wool stringing off his sweater. "What am I supposed to do? Where am I going to sleep? How long is it going to take for you to kick me out?"

Harry sighed, running his fingers through his messy hair. "I don't know yet. I guess the couch. And I'm not going to kick you out, you're much better under my supervision, I don't need a Dark wizard running around loose."

Draco shook his head, "That couch isn't fit for a House Elf, I'm not going near that thing. And I'm not a Dark wizard!"

"Well I don't have another bed and you're not sleeping with me." Harry said, waving his wand, sending the bowls to the sink. "And you are a Dark wizard!"

"Well get another bed! I'm not sleeping on that couch!"

"You don't get a choice!" Harry said, standing.

"Yes I do, what are those stains huh? Did someone die on that couch?! Did you get it from the evidence room or something?" Draco stood as well, crossing his arms.

Harry groaned, muttering something under his breath. "FINE! I'll take the couch you fucking prat. You can have my bed until I have time to get another one."

Draco smirked, adjusting the Gryffindor sweater Harry gave him, "If I must," he said, marching toward the bedroom.

Draco turned, batting his eyes and grinning. "Oh by the way, since I don't have a wand, and you're a slob, can you be a dear and magic all your shit out of your room. I don't want to sleep in that mess."

Draco walked into the small but impossibly messy bedroom, kicking back on the large bed and stretching out. He hadn't been on something this soft and comfortable since he last lived at Malfoy Manor. The luxury he'd been so used to back then felt like a distant memory now, as if it were all a dream. Or a nightmare.

The permanent reminders of all that he'd done wrong were scattered on his chest and on his forearm, a symbol of the person he was - the person he was running from. He closed his eyes, picturing the fateful day when he'd received the Mark.

Potter opened the door, pulling Draco out of his memories. Harry stumbled over his own feet as he entered the room. Draco opened an eye, squinting unhappily at him. "What do you want?" he yawned, placing a hand over his mouth.

"Get off the bed. I can't bear to sleep on that thing out there. I got it cheap from a place Molly Weasley suggested and I found leftover Chinese dinner in cushions!"

"I'm not budging," Draco sat up more and glowered at Potter.

Harry growled, waving his arms in exasperation. "Just move for two seconds so I can transfigure it into-"

Draco interrupted. "No." he crossed his arms defiantly, turning up his nose.

"You pure-blooded git! You'd think a year and a half of living out of bins would teach you something!" Harry sighed, pointing his wand at Draco and shouting, "Accio Draco!"

Draco had only enough time to realize what Harry was doing before he was smushed up against the broader boy, on the floor on top of him. His face went beat red as he squirmed, only the spell still held him in place until Harry released him. "LET GO OF ME!" he cried.

Harry grunted, struggling to push the writhing man off of him. After several minutes of awkward disentangling, the boys finally separated. "Top or bottom?" Harry asked, standing right next to Draco.

Scrunching up his nose, Draco inched away from Harry, aghast. "That's disgusting! That's revolting! That's-"

"Not like that!" Harry shouted, holding out his hands, "I mean top bunk or bottom bunk. I'm going to transfigure this into a bunk bed so neither of us have to sleep on the couch."

Draco recovered his poise, smoothing out his Gryffindor sweater. "Top," he raised his eyebrows at Potter, sticking out his tongue, "I'm a top."

Face reddening, Harry turned away, focusing on the large bed. He lifted his wand and began to speak a various number of spells, sweat trickling down his throat. Nothing happened.

"Good job, Potter, you've succeeded in shocking me with your lack of talents once again."

Draco scoffed at the childish hurt on Harry's face. Harry sighed, trying once more. This time the bedsheet changed from maroon to dark green. "I didn't mean to do that," Harry muttered, trying once again without succeeding. Finally, he gave up and shrugged, "Ginny was always better at this kind of magic. I didn't really have a use for it until she moved out..."

Draco rolled his eyes, "You can kill a Dark Lord but you can't transfigure a bed. Pathetic."

Draco climbed back into the bed, waving at Harry, "Have fun on the couch."

After months of wet asphalt and newspaper, it couldn't get much better than an actual bed, but Potter didn't need to know that. He tried to look as uncomfortable as possible underneath the warm comforter.

That's when Harry walked onto the other side and slid into bed with him. "Not a word," Harry warmed, pointing his wand at the muggle style light. "Nox," the room went dark and Draco heard Harry shifting around. They both moved as far away from each other as humanly possible.

Draco heard Harry sigh, rolling over to see Potter slump dejectedly. Something stirred inside him and he leaned up on his elbows. "This is better than... Well I've been living under a bridge, compared to that this is Buckingham Palace. So I to I mean say is, uhm..."

Harry rolled over to face him, "Thank you?"

"Yes that's it. Thank, thank you for not turning me in," Draco forced his expression to stay neutral. "This is... nice. Decent."

He smiled as Potter's face lit up; he beamed up at Draco, clutching his hands to his chest like the man child he was. Draco rolled his eyes as Harry spoke. "You really like it?"

"Why are you so obsessed with whether I like things or not?"

Harry shrugged, ruffling the blankets in the dark. "You interest me."

Draco raised an eyebrow, sitting up and circling his hand in a gesture meaning to continue. Harry began fiddling with the covers, sitting up as well. "I mean, I have to study Dark wizards for the Ministry, and they tell us all these things about them, and I know the Ministry is better now and right, hell, Hermione is on track to become Minister if she keeps at the rate she's at. But you, well you're a prat sure, but you're not...what they say you should be like."

Draco shrugged even though he knew Potter couldn't see him. "I guess maybe because I'm not a Dark wizard."

He heard Harry mutter something that sounded along the lines of "Well you aren't a Light one either," but he couldn't be one hundred percent sure.

Draco curled up under his covers again, biting his lip before forcing himself to speak. "Hey Harry?"

"Yeah?" came the reply a few seconds later.

"Goodnight."

There was silence for a couple moments before Harry replied, a light tone in his voice as he said happily, "Goodnight Draco."