Harry awoke to uncomfortable firmness of a small cot in a strange room. Rubbing his eyes, he noticed everything was immensely blurry—his glasses were gone. Attempting to reach to the bedside to see if they were placed there, someone reached for them and handed them to him and he shakily placed the circular glasses on his face. When his vision cleared, he saw a tall blonde figure, that he couldn't decipher if he was angry or if that look was just plastered onto his face all hours of the day. "Nice job, Potter." Draco spoke snidely, Harry looked up at the ceiling and avoided eye contact.

"You're physically fine." A quaint but anxious voice said, handing Harry a cool glass of water. He pushed himself into a sitting position and took a sip. "It's just the...trauma." She spoke softly at the end, as if the mentioning of this "trauma" was forbidden.

"You mean my parents dying. You can say it. I rather you say it." Harry said almost angrily. He downed the water and arose suddenly from the bed of the hospital wing, storming out of the doors.

Footsteps of a stiff boy following suit ran through the hall, and soon Draco has nearly caught up. "Potter!"

"Can you just leave me alone, creep!" Harry yelled, turning to see Draco looking right at him.

"I just—I know what it's like—"

"You do? Your parents are dead?"

"Well, no but—"

Harry scoffed. "Then you don't, do you." Harry remarked, the side of his mouth twitching slightly. Harry turned back and continued to pace down the hall.

"I know what it's like to feel crazy!" Draco blurted, "If you tell anyone I'll tell my father to execute you, but I used to have a similar problem because when I was younger...my babysitter touched me." Draco stammered. "I know that's not the same thing, but I had a similar experience where every time I closed my eyes that's what I thought about." Harry turned around. "Point is, you're not alone." Draco raised his head from being turned to the floor, and put out an unsteady hand. Draco looked into Harry's eyes—as Harry eyed Draco's hand—and saw a hint of fear mixed with anger.

Harry smacked Draco's hand, getting closer to Draco's shocked face. "What? You think just like that I'll completely forget that you're a creep. You run around with Death Eaters, killing people, and you expect me to just accept that because you've got a tragic backstory. So do I, and I'm not walking around plotting against innocent people."

"I've never killed anyone." Draco mumbles, rubbing his arm, but Harry has already taken off down the hallway. This time, Draco stayed put.

***

Fred and George's room was lit by the gingerly and calming light of the fireplace, and the fire danced in the beautiful girl's eyes. The blue against the red against the orange created an intense and fiery vibe that bounced from her to the entire room. She placed a hand through her silky, long, gorgeous hair and joked with her brothers. Supposedly, she was a prankster herself, and Harry avidly listened when she had spoken earlier of the array of tricks she's pulled. Occasionally, she would look at Harry and he swore her eyes fluttered beautifully. "Continue, mate." Ron said, Harry turned from Ginny to see Ron impatiently waiting for Harry to continue.

"He gives me some sob story about his childhood. He acts like he's innocent, meanwhile he endorses murderers and is a downright dick to every person he passed." Harry heatedly said, making fists with his scarred hands. "Says he wants me as one of his, then expects me to pity his sorry ass."

"Pathetic." Ron agreed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Well, are you feeling better?" Ron questioned, and Harry gave a reassuring nod.

Laughing filled the fairly large room and Harry looked around. There was a mirror in the far corner that faced the bed he sat on with Ron, and he saw the lightening scar that he bore upon his forehead. For a moment he wondered if Draco had his own battle scar, but quickly shook the thought away and reminded himself that he was evil. Ginny turned to him and gave a gentle wave, which Harry happily returned.

***

Draco sat straight and confidently at the large oval table, his father seated comfortably by his side. The incredible grand table was filled with Death Eaters and selected Slytherins, Draco proudly being one of them. It was for the greater good, at least that's what his father said and who is he to doubt his father. A pale figure strode into the room as if the air lifted him off his feet, soon reaching his rightful spot at the head of the table. The black table contrasted his nearly white skin. He was bald with a squashed nose—from being broken—and he was the most terrifyingly confident man Draco had ever met or witnessed.

After the slight chatter ended, the meeting began. Draco kept his head high and avoided any eye contact with the frightening figure. "Well, James and Lily's son has been enrolled in Hogwarts." Voldemort sounded like a snake, Draco could almost hear is slither to his voice.

"So?" A brave soul spoke up. Draco whipped his head and saw his idiot friend, Crabbe. If it weren't for the fear that kept him frozen in place, he would have buried his head into his arms in disappointment.

Voldemort gave a sound that resembled laughter, if someone who was drowning was laughing at their own demise. Draco swallowed, hard. He knew what Voldemort would say. "His parents nearly singlehandedly destroyed our organization. We must keep and eye on him and one small move," Voldemort snapped his spindly fingers, "And he's gone. We mustn't let him ruin our plans." Draco knew he would say that, but what he didn't know was what he'd say next. "Draco, my boy, you have been roomed with him. How wonderful." His voice was croaky, like he constantly was developing laryngitis. "He will be our eyes. And, shall anything go wrong, he will be tasked with the death of Harry Potter." Voldemort calmly said, like it was a casual statement.

After the meeting ended, Voldemort bestowed upon Draco a handcrafted dagger that had a ruby encrusted on the handle.

When Draco returned to school, he immediately went to his dorm and softly placed the dagger under his pillow. He quickly covered the pillow with his blanket, and glanced at the door to make sure no one had come in and seen. He'd planned the moment in his mind, if he'd have to do it. He would stab Harry in his sleep. He saw the dead look in Harry's face as he would roll over, drawing his last breath, never to breathe again. The idea sent shivers down his spine. He took a deep breath, his eyes focused on a piece of paper on Harry's bed. Curiosity crept its way in, but fear repelled him from the object.

***

Walking into his room, he noticed Draco was already asleep. Harry grimaced at Draco, then walking to his bed and picked up the sheet of paper. Unfolding the paper, he saw a picture of himself with his old friends. His closest friend was Ralph, who he'd been friends with since they were in elementary school. Ralph was blonde with frog skin glasses, and a large, hooked nose. Crumpling up the picture, he tossed it to the floor like it meant nothing.