After an hour of Harry feigning sleep and Malfoy pacing the room, the blond finally settled down. Malfoy sighed. From his spot on the bed, Harry’s lips turned up in a half smile.

“Wipe that expression off your face, Potter before I do it with my fist!” Malfoy snarled and then threw open his trunk with unneeded force.

He took out a book and sat on the rickety chair. Harry had even less to do. Usually he would just sit and think when he was alone at the Dursley’s.

There were so many things to think over now… So how come I can’t concentrate on them? Harry wondered.

Was it because of Malfoy’s silent presence? Even though he hardly made any noise, Harry was very aware of him being there. It was disturbing. He felt like he was being scrutinized, like everything he did would be noted. Why oh why did Dumbledore have to send me here with Malfoy! Harry thought exasperatedly.

Surly the man could have broken the bond just for the day. What is so important about us learning how to--Harry frowned--get along with each other?

Harry did not get time to think that over for footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs.

Malfoy threw the cloak back over himself, but that did not make Harry relax. No one is this house was friendly with him. If any one of them came in, it would just be to anger him.

It sounds like Dudley or Vernon, Harry thought. Every stair complained under this person’s weight, but with Petunia, you sometimes did not even know she was outside the door.

Harry was sure that Dudley or Vernon would pass his room. Besides banging on the door to surprise him, they usually left him alone.

To his slight surprise and horror, the footsteps stopped at his door. Harry sat up, glancing over at Malfoy sitting on the rickety chair. He was well covered but one small noise could give away his position.

The door opened. Harry watched as Dudley looked at him from the doorway cautiously.

Dudley bit his lip then, seeming to take a deep breath, opened the door all the way and stepped in. His eyes quickly trailed over everything in the room which admittedly was not much.

Done surveying the room and reassuring himself that nothing magical was going to jump up and bite him, Dudley turned to Harry. “Hey?” he said warily trading his weight from one foot to the other. He somehow managed to make the casual greeting into a question.

Harry blinked. Hey? What is he playing at, Harry wondered cautiously.

Watching his cousin warily Harry answered. “Hay’s for horses,” he said.

Dudley blinked and then smiled. It was a small smile, but it did not hold any menace. Those were the only smiles Harry had really seen on Dudley’s face. To see a real one surprised Harry.

“What are you doing?” Dudley asked, looking around the room.

“Er…nothi--” Harry’s stuttered reply was cut off.

“What happened to your trunk?” Dudley asked his eyebrows creased as he stared at Malfoy’s trunk. Harry’s eyes widened and he tried to hide his expression.

“Oh, um. Mine broke so I bought a new one,” Harry said nodding as he spoke.

Dudley looked at him curiously. “Couldn’t you have just used your--” Dudley looked around then spoke quietly, “magic?”

For once Harry decided that Dudley may have been smarter than what he gave him credit for. “Well…I just wanted new one,” Harry said lamely.

Dudley looked like he was trying to keep the suspicious expression off his face. He was not doing a good job. Harry stood up, looking around the room. Maybe he could divert his cousin’s attention.

His cousin came over to look at the trunk more closely. “Those aren’t your initials,” he said. Dudley straightened up from where he had been leaning over. “Why didn’t you get your initials typed into your trunk like the last one?”

“I just didn’t. Those letters are just short for the place where I bought the trunk at,” Harry said casually.

“What’s the name of the place where you bought it at?” Dudley asked.

There was silence for a moment. “I don’t know. A friend bought it for me; I’d have to ask them.”

Dudley looked at him for a minute. “Hhhmm,” he said before looking around the room again.

Harry only barely managed not to swipe his forehead. He could feel a bead of sweat roll down his face and into his ear. Wiping it away casually, Harry sat back on the bed.

“Was there something you came in here for?” Harry asked his voice tight.

Dudley bit his lip. A weird thing for Harry to see, because his cousin never seemed nervous unless he was near a witch or wizard. And to Dudley, Harry did not always count as a wizard, just his wimpy cousin.

“I just decided to drop in. There’s nothing else to do around here anyway,” Dudley grumbled.

“Already beat up all the kids in the neighborhood?” Harry asked sarcastically.

Dudley frowned. “You shouldn’t judge people on their past. I’m sure you would not want people to do that to you.”

Harry gaped at him. “That’s not the past Dudders, that’s like five months ago!”

Crossing his arms Dudley stared at him. “It’s long enough to be the past,” he argued. “And I have not beat up anybody since those…things came after us.”

Harry knew what Dudley was talking about and shivered. He hated the Dementors.

“Are--you scared of them as well?” Dudley asked quietly. Harry looked at him. His cousin was not mocking, just curious.

Harry nodded. “I’m scared of what they represent.”

When Dudley just looked confused, Harry told him. “Fear.”

Dudley came over and sat on the bed as well. It sank under his weight, making Harry reposition himself.

“You’re scared of fear?” his cousin said slowly. He did not seem to understand but Harry nodded, scowling.

“How can you be scared of--being scared of something?” Dudley asked incredulously with a half smile.

Harry shrugged crossing his arms and frowning. “The Dementors are fear. They take your worst memories or…it doesn’t even have to be a memory. Whatever you fear, even if you have never seen it, they’ll make you think of it.”

Dudley was not smiling anymore. “Do they kill or just scare you?”

“First they reduce you to a scared, whimpering, ball. Then, they suck your soul out.” Harry said.

“That’s not funny,” Dudley said, looking ay his feet and frowning.

Harry narrowed his eyes, “What makes you think I’m joking? They do exactly what I’m telling you Dudley.”

Swallowing Dudley ran his hand over the smooth wood of the trunk. It was right in front of his feet. “I just…how come nobody’s killed off those things?”

Harry shrugged, “The guard the wizard prison Azkaban, we need them…I guess.”

Dudley frowned but did not say anything else. He opened the trunk and Harry made a protesting sound. He moved to close it; Malfoy would hate it if they went through his stuff.

Harry had forgotten about the aristocrat. He was probably watching them angrily; Harry would never hear the end of it.

“Let’s leave that stuff alone. Okay?” Harry said trying to take the book from Dudley’s hands. Dudley looked at him weirdly. “I’m just looking, and I’m not going to rip it to pieces. I promise.”

Harry frowned. “Come on Dudley, just leave my stuff alone.”

Dudley was not listening; he looked at the title of the book. “How to Look Magnificent…Anytime and Anywhere.” Harry’s cousin stared at the book and then looked at Harry.

Harry chuckled weakly. “It’s a joke between me and my friends…funny huh?”

Dudley shrugged. “I’m just curious about you. What else do you have in here?”

Before Harry could stop him, Dudley had reached in--and pulled out a pair of boxers. Harry could not help it, he laughed. The green, silk boxers had ‘Slytherin’ written across them in silver.

“Ew!” Dudley said with a disgusted expression and threw the boxers on the bed. “What’s Slytherin?”

Harry stood up, pushed the trunk to the corner of the room and sat on it. “For your information, it’s a house in my school. The students are sorted into houses. Slytherin is a house.”

“And you’re in Slytherin?” Dudley asked. Harry should have seen this question coming, but he didn’t.

“Um…no.” He stuttered uncomfortable. “What’s for lunch?”

Dudley snickered. “We already had lunch, dumb butt. What house are you in?”

Harry blushed slight and frowned. “I’m in Gryffindor. Could you leave please? I want to go back and do nothing.”

“How do you get sorted?” Dudley asked standing.

“Ugh!” Harry moaned in irritation. “We fight trolls,” he snapped remembering what the Weasleys twins had told Ron a few years ago.

Dudley still had his mouth open in awe at the prospect when Harry shoved him out of the room. He heard his cousin mutter something and go to his room. Sighing, Harry leaned against the door. His hand coming up to run through his hair.

Seeing Malfoy’s book on the bed, Harry could not help but laugh. With a fluttering sound, Malfoy removed the cloak. “Shut up, Potter!” he hissed angrily.

Coming over, he grabbed the book and boxers protectively and hid them back in his trunk. “Going through my things…filthy, muggle hands touching my stuff,” he muttered.

Harry snickered, “How to Look Magnificent…Anytime and Anywhere?” He shook his head in disbelief, “How vain can you get, Malfoy?”

Malfoy sneered. “Just because I take care of myself, does not mean I’m vain.” He said it with a disgusted look at Harry’s untidy hair and overlarge Muggle clothes.

Harry rolled his eyes and look around the room. At that moment Dudley turned no his radio. Loud pop music made the windows rattle and Malfoy muffled a scream of surprise.

Harry raised an eyebrow, which made Malfoy blush slightly.

A few hours later Harry got an owl.

Harry sighed in relief while Malfoy watched him curiously. “No one was hurt. Someone will pick us up the day after tomorrow,” he said shortly.

Malfoy snarled at the thought of having to spend another day on the Muggle house. Night came slowly for the two boys. When it did, though, Malfoy got excited.

“All right, Potter, you said you could get us something to eat once it got dark. Your relatives have eaten and now I want to do the same,” Malfoy said crossing his arms.

Rolling his eyes, Harry stood. “First of all, lower your voice. Second, wait a while longer. I want them asleep.”

Grumbling, Malfoy sat on the bed, crossing his arms petulantly. Harry grinned at Malfoy’s attitude. It did not bother him as much as it amused him.

Loud snores could be heard from Dudley’s room a few minutes later. Harry got up and Malfoy sat up and watched him.

Going over to the window, Harry carefully and quietly opened it. “What are you doing?” Malfoy whispered in alarm.

“Going to get food. I’ll be right back,” Harry said.

As he moved out the window he heard Malfoy drawl, “He’s crazy. Absolutely insane!”

What Malfoy did not know, was that Harry had done this many times before. There was a hardy trellis outside his window. Carefully, and with squishing the morning glories, Harry climbed down to the ground.

Smiling, he looked up in time to see Malfoy stick his head out of the window and stare down at Harry. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Potter,” Malfoy said quietly.

Going to the back door, Harry found the emergency key hiding in the flower plant hanging next to the door. He was not supposed to know it was there. The Dursleys thought he would tell his freaky friends or something of the sort.

Quietly, Harry entered the house. The only sound he could hear was the clothes dryer in a room next the the back door. The floor did not creak under his bare feet; he had taken his shoes off sometime before.

Making his way to the kitchen, Harry shut the swinging door. He turned on the light flinching it hurt his eyes. Harry waited for them to adjust before moving to the cabinet.

This food-based escapade would take longer that usual. He had to get more food. And Malfoy’s not going to be happy with crackers, Harry thought.

The Sytherin would most likely turn his nose up at anything Harry brought back up, though. Let’s see, I can bring the peanut butter, jam and some bread…. Harry thoughts trailed off as he gathered those items and a few others. He was ready to leave when he paused.

Malfoy’s probably not about to eat peanut butter with his hands, Harry thought with a grin. He grabbed some knifes and a few paper plates that Petunia had out. She preferred using them to her fancy plates. The fewer dishes to wash, the better. All the food was held rather precariously in his arms as he barely managed to turn the light off and go back to his bedroom.

The Dursleys would probably notice that his bedroom door was unlocked but Harry doubted they would say anthing about it. They did not want to know.

Harry placed some of his load down quietly. Any sound the glass made against the wooden floor was covered up by Dudley. Someone really needed to turn that kid over on his side or something.

Harry heard Malfoy covering himself with the cloak when he opened the door. It took some time; there were a lot of locks on the door.

“It’s just me,” Harry whispered as he came into the room. Dumping the items on the bed as quietly as possible, Harry went back to the door for the rest of the stuff.

Malfoy was sitting on the bed studying the label on the jam jar. “What am I supoposed to do with this Potter? Glue tiles the the floor?”

Harry blinked, “No, honey,” he said in a motherly tone, “you’re supposed to eat it. You know how to eat right? Or do I need to feed you?”

Malfoy shook his head and stared at him. “You are so weird, Potter.”

“I’m weird and yet he doesn’t know what jam is,” Harry muttered to himself.

If Malfoy heard he did not bother to reply. Harry took the food and set it up on his table.

“This is all you got, Potter?” His grumpy, whiny voice grated on Harry’s nerves.

“You can eat it or shut up. I prefer the second. Then there will be more for me.” Harry’s words were met with a frown. Malfoy sighed, like he was giving into something terrible.

“Won’t your relatives notice this missing?” Malfoy asked. Harry froze, they probably would notice. It was too late now though, maybe he could return the items later.

“How…do I eat this?” he asked with a grimace holding up the loaf of bread still in its bag.

Barily refraining from rolling his eyes, Harry patiently taught Malfoy how to make a PB&J.