Do You Believe in Miracles?

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Welcome to Our Humble Abode

“Malfoy?! You have to live with the ferret?!”

“Yeah. I don’t like it either, Ron,” Harry added at his friend’s outraged expression. “But unless I want to hand myself over to Voldemort, I have to do what Dumbledore thinks is necessary.”

Harry spent the previous night thinking about his new predicament. Even though he did not want to live with Malfoy, the past few weeks taught him that he could at least tolerate the boy. If his safety meant a few weeks of Malfoy’s company, he was willing to make that sacrifice.

“Why does the blasted git have his own rooms anyways?“ Ron asked, his voice echoing loud in the empty corridor. “I mean, you’ve always been in more danger here than anyone, and you never got private rooms!”

Harry shrugged and put the last of his robes into his trunk.

“I’m really sorry about all this, Harry,” Hermione offered as she placed her hand on his arm. “You’ve been through enough. You don’t need this, too.”

“Yeah, mate,” Ron said in agreement. “I mean, I’m glad you’re going to be safe and all, but why’d it have to be Malfoy?” Ron spat the name as if it were a curse.

“I don’t know, Ron.” Harry sighed. “Because we’ve both got madmen trying to kill us? I’ve never liked him, but I can ignore him as much as possible and be civil for a few weeks.”

Hermione grabbed him in an unexpected hug. “Oh, Harry. That’s so mature of you. I know you’ll be okay!”

Harry and Ron shared a grin at their friend’s outburst. They loved Hermione, but they would never understand her.

“Oh, isn’t this just the perfect example of our golden Gryffindors‘ friendship,” came a sarcastic drawl. Harry turned, eyes widening at the sight of the last person he expected to see in Gryffindor Tower. He let go of Hermione and starred at Snape standing in the doorway.

“If you are through with your heartfelt sentiments, we should get on with the proceedings and be done with it.” Snape raised his eyebrows to Harry. Harry knew what Snape was trying to say: I’m stuck in Gryffindor Tower to help you, so let’s go…NOW!

“Why are you here? Why didn‘t McGonagall or Dumbledore come get Harry?” Ron bit out. Hermione grabbed his arm and gave him a shocked look for being rude to a teacher.

“Mr. Weasley, I highly doubt that is any of your concern.” Snape glared at the redhead. “Suffice to say, Professor McGonagall is teaching a class of insufferable first years, and the Headmaster is attuning wards to accept Potter into his new chambers. So unless you would like to risk your friend’s safety for the convenience of an escort, I suggest you stop complaining and proceed to your first class. I am positive that Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy were the only ones excused.”

Hermione let out a surprised squeak, and she and Ron left after a hurried goodbye, promising to come see Harry’s new dormitory after lessons.

“Are you capable of levitating your own trunk down the tower, Mr. Potter, or should I do it for you?” Snape asked, eyeing the half-filled trunk on Harry’s bed.

“I can do it!” Harry bit out harsher than he intended. Snape stared at him pointedly, and Harry let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry, sir. I just - “ Harry met his professor’s onyx stare. “Do you think I could have a moment?”

Snape looked reluctant to agree but acquiesced Harry with a curt nod and strode out of the room to wait by the portrait hole.

Harry shut the lid on his school trunk. Walking to the end of his bed, he took a long look around the familiar dormitory. He would be back in the room in a few weeks, but he could not help feeling just as odd as if it were his last look.

“Goodbye,” Harry muttered to the room, eyebrows raised in mock amusement. He levitated his trunk down the stairs and out of the portrait hole to, once again, meet up with Professor Snape.

If Harry expected an awkward, quiet trip down to his new chambers, he could not have been more wrong. Snape apparently decided it was the perfect time to dictate the new rules to Harry.

“No one is allowed into the chambers after curfew, Potter,” he scolded. “And I mean no one. You may be staying in a private dorm, but you will not abuse that privilege. This is for your own safety, Potter, and it would be blatantly disrespectful, even for you, to put yourself into danger when the rest of us are trying to protect you. Do keep that in mind.”

Harry listened to Snape’s sermon with little enthusiasm as he struggled to keep up with his teacher‘s quick stride. He left his warm, comfortable dorm to live with Malfoy in the dungeons, and the man thought he was going to risk his neck, knowing what would await him if he did?

“As a warning, Potter,” Snape began again, jerking Harry from his thoughts. “These chambers are not far from my own, and I will not hesitate to drop by any time I see fit. There are wards in place to alert me in the event of an emergency. Also, as my own personal safety is on the line, I advise you to invite in only those whom you exclusively trust, and I do mean exclusively.”

The man’s gaze stopped Harry in his tracks. “I do not care for Gryffindor bravery in the least, and if you put yourself or Mr. Malfoy in danger because of it, you will suffer my wrath, make no doubt about it.”

Harry swallowed audibly. Assuming they reached the entrance, Harry studied the large portrait of baby snakes adorning the wall before him. The tiny serpents slithered along a rough-looking rock, chatting animatedly.

“Who is this?” the nearest snake hissed.

“He is staring most rudely,“ replied the other.

“Hello. I‘m Harry.”

The hissing equivalent of gasps and shock came from the four baby serpents.

“He talks?!”

“Indeed he does!”

“We have never spoken to a human before, and he is a most handsome one!”

Harry blushed awkwardly at the snake’s compliment. A warm hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality as Dumbledore joined them.

“Hello Harry,” he began. “I see you’ve made a new friend in the portrait. I must admit it is quite curious to hear what the portrait has to say. Perhaps you would enlighten Severus?”

Looking back to the frame, Harry noticed the same fiery red snake that had complimented him was now watching him as she slithered out her tongue. Snape emitted a noise somewhere between sarcastic amusement and disgust.

“Er, well actually, they’re pretty shocked I spoke to them,” Harry said, bemused with the snakes’ attitudes, but not willing to admit to their compliments.

Dumbledore let out a chuckle. “I’m sure they are, Harry. It is not every day that a Parselmouth comes through Hogwarts, let alone one willing to speak with a painting.”

Harry gave a small smile.

“Now, if you’d just put the tip of your wand to the rock, the wards will recognize your magical signature and you can get you settled in! I trust you gentlemen will be just fine on your own? Good day.” The Headmaster left without further ado, and Harry carried out his instructions before following Snape into his new dormitory.

Surprised was a good description for Harry’s reaction upon entering the room. The large sitting room compared similarly to the size of the Gryffindor common room, only rectangular. Expecting complete Slytherin decor, the soft greens and earthy browns of the room both intrigued and relaxed him.

Malfoy lay sprawled out on one of the couches when Harry entered with Snape. He glared at Harry and set his book down.

“Mr. Malfoy, are you going to show Mr. Potter around, or are your manners failing so miserably that you can no longer do so?” their teacher drawled.

Harry’s eyes widened at Snape’s scolding of the boy. They had just arrived, and Harry had no doubt he could show himself around.

Malfoy smirked at them. “My apologies, Mr. Potter. Would you like me to take your things? I could send for a cup of tea while you wait, if you like.”

“Draco…,” Snape warned, eyes narrowing dangerously.

Malfoy let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine,“ he said, standing up off the couch. “Come on, Potter. I’ll give you la grandiose tournée.”

“Was that French?” Harry asked, astonished.

“Oui, Potter. Now, do you want to see around or not?” He stared at Harry with raised eyebrows. Harry nodded, and the two left Snape in the sitting room as Malfoy showed Harry around their chambers.

Making their way down a small hallway, Malfoy opened the first door on the left to reveal a large washroom. Harry snorted as he noticed the dark green walls and silver furnishing. Despite the colour choice, the room looked efficient.

“This is where we shower and make ourselves presentable for the day,” Malfoy commentated sarcastically. “I get up every morning at half five and occupy the bathroom for an hour. I’m sure you’ll be able to find a suitable time to clean up either before or after that.”

Harry ignored the domineering attitude, but decided he would most definitely be showering after Malfoy. Between his nightmares and having to prepare the Dursleys’ breakfast every day for years, Harry considered himself a morning person, but who in their right mind would get up that early when breakfast didn’t even begin until eight?!

Following Malfoy’s lead, they reached the end of the hall, revealing a small room with a comfortable looking chair and many books. The quaint room looked well lived-in.

“This is where I come to think and relax,“ Malfoy said, his voice losing some of its previous arrogance. “I’d like to keep it to myself, but…,” the boy sighed sombrely, “I guess you’re welcome to it now, too.”

A small twinge of an emotion he could not name coursed through Harry--sympathy, maybe? Harry knew firsthand what it felt like not to have any place to call your own and could not bring himself to take away that last bit of true privacy in selfishness.

“No, Malfoy,” he replied, his voice quiet and soft. “Keep it to yourself. I’ll stay away.”

The appraising look he received disconcerted him, but not as much as the tight smile that followed.

“So!” Harry exclaimed to break up the suddenly awkward air. “Where do I sleep?”

Malfoy motioned his arm, and Harry followed his direction to a room opposite the bathroom. Harry rolled his eyes at the continuous Slytherin colour scheme. The room held two beds, two wardrobes and two bedside tables, each placed opposite in the room.

The two sides were in stark contrast. One looked organized, but broken in and used, while the other was empty and impeccable. Harry’s stomach dropped as he realized they were not only living together, but sharing a room.

The click of the doorknob caught Harry‘s attention, and he spun around to see Snape standing in the doorway. “We - we’re sharing a room?” he asked timidly.

“Yes, Potter,” the older man drawled. “It is the only room available with permanent heating charms. Unless, of course, your wish is to die of hypothermia. If that is the case, by all means, settle in another room.”

With that, Snape strode from the room, leaving Harry and Malfoy in an awkward silence. Malfoy cleared his throat and left Harry to unpack.

Feeling out of place in his new dorm, Harry made his way to his trunk. Rather than unpacking, he took a seat on the large wooden box to think.

Overwhelmed in Slytherin decor, he took out his wand and began to Transfigure his furniture. The black wardrobe and bedside table took on gorgeous cherry finishes with gold handles. The green and silver bed hangings Transfigured to Gryffindor red and gold. That’s better, Harry thought with a smile.

Harry put his clothes and robes into the wardrobe, and his few keepsakes into the bedside table. He finished casting a strong locking charm on the two when Malfoy re-entered the room.

Malfoy took stock of Harry’s changes and curled his lip. “At least the walls are still cream…,” he said to no one before turning on Harry. “What else are you planning to change, Potter?”

“Nothing,” Harry said defensively. “I just wanted to feel more at home.”

“Well, as long as you don’t change any of my stuff,“ he replied haughtily. “Oh, and Snape says we have to leave for Charms.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Three days passed before Ron and Hermione had a free evening to visit Harry. After a tiring Transfiguration class, the trio made their way through the dungeons to Harry and Malfoy’s dormitory.

“You know, Harry, you could really get Malfoy now!” Ron began, excitement evident in his voice. “I mean, think about it! You could change his shampoo for hair-colouring potion, or - “

“Ron, Harry has to live with him. I doubt he wants to welcome open warfare…,” Hermione said.

“But, Hermione, you know it would be hilarious to see Malfoy come to breakfast with pink hair! Besides, you can probably get a ton of information on him and his Death Eater excuse of a father!” Ron was adamant as he asserted his opinion to Harry and Hermione.

Harry kept his voice calm and soft. “I just want to ignore him until Halloween’s over, and I can move back to the tower.”

“See, Ron, Harry’s being mature and responsible about this. You should be, too!” Hermione said, berating their friend.

“We’re here,” Harry interrupted as they reached the snake portrait.

“Hello again, handsome!” the tiny red snaked cooed. Shaking his head, Harry turned back to his friends.

“Wait here for a moment while I get the wards to let you in.”

Harry stuck his wand into the canvas stone and entered his dormitory. Malfoy looked up at him from his homework as Harry entered.

“Are Granger and the Weasel actually coming in, Potter?” Malfoy whinged.

Harry stared at his new roommate. “How did you know they were outside?”

“You’re predictable, Potter,” he said dryly. When Harry shot him a glare, Malfoy motioned to a mirror near the door, showing Ron and Hermione waiting outside.

“Identity Mirror,“ said Malfoy, answering Harry’s unvoiced question. “They show the true identity of anyone outside your door. All of the pure-blood families have them. You never know when someone will call to your residence Polyjuiced or Glamoured to try and kill you.”

Harry almost told him that the pure-blood families were paranoid, but given the fact that most declared for or against Voldemort, he held his tongue.

“So, are they coming in, or do they just like the portrait?” Malfoy asked again with a sneer.

Harry ignored the boy’s sarcasm. “Yes, Malfoy, they are coming to visit with me for a while. I know better than to ask you to be nice, but we’ve been civil so far, so could you please be polite while they’re here?”

Malfoy huffed at him. “Yes, Potter. I’ll be polite,” he retorted. “Just make sure the Mudblood and blood traitor don’t muck up anything.”

“Don’t call them that, Malfoy!” Harry yelled.

“Respect for my possessions is the price for my manners, Potter. That’s all I’m saying.”

Harry gave Malfoy a hard look before turning to let Ron and Hermione into the chambers. The pair entered the room with wide eyes, taking in their surroundings.

“Ronald! Hermione! Welcome to our humble abode,” Malfoy presented in an over-dramatic show of his ‘politeness.’ “Please, make yourselves comfortable. I’m sure Harry can take your cloaks and offer you a nice cup of tea. I really must be going.”

With that, Malfoy collected his books, gave Harry a cheeky grin and retreated to his back room.

Harry gave a disbelieving chuckle as he busied himself to Floo the kitchen for tea. As much as it pained Harry to do so, he had to admit that Malfoy possessed a surprising sense of humour. Although his wit tended to be sarcastic and dry, Harry began to differentiate between when the boy was truly pissed off and when he was just being an arse for his own amusement. Maybe it’s a Slytherin thing, he thought, even though he was sure the Head of Slytherin House did not have any sense of humour.

Hermione and Ron exchanged confused glances as he returned with a tray laden with tea and biscuits. Taking a biscuit before settling himself his new favourite chair, Harry furrowed his brow at the awkward atmosphere that had settled on the group.

“What?” Harry asked, mouth filled with food.

“Care to explain what the bloody hell that was about, Harry?” Ron asked, lowering himself onto the couch beside Hermione.

“What do you mean?”

“Harry, Malfoy has never called us ‘Hermione and Ronald,’” Hermione said. “The entire thing was highly unexpected and considerably mortifying.”

“Where did the ferret go, anyways?” Ron quipped.

“The Hideaway,“ Harry answered without hesitation.

At his friend’s confused faces, he clarified, “It’s this little room at the back of the hall. He has all these books in there and there’s a little window with a view of the grounds. Malfoy goes in there all the time to relax or do homework. It’s pretty nice actually, although I’ve only been in there once.”

Standing from his seat, Harry looked at his friends and grinned. “Want to see my room?”

After a good look around the chambers and Ron’s dissatisfaction with the general Slytherin decor, Harry led his friends into his new bedroom.

“Now this is better,” muttered Ron upon noticing Harry’s obvious Gryffindor side. Hermione had remained almost silent since their visit began, and Harry began to get nervous.

“What’s wrong, Hermione?” he asked.

His bushy haired friend gave a small smile. “It’s nothing, Harry. I - I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

“What do you mean?” Harry’s brow furrowed.

“Well, I mean, aren’t you scared, Harry? The vision? I‘d be terrified if it was me.” Hermione seemed nervous, but determined to ask as she ran her hands along his new blanket.

Harry shrugged as he diverted his eyes from Hermione’s gaze. How was he supposed to answer her question? True, there a lunatic was set on his destruction, but then again, how did that differ from any other year? How could he explain that he felt completely terrified and unnervingly calm at the exact same time?

“I don’t know,” Harry replied, leaning against the bedpost. “I mean, yeah, I guess I’m nervous, but….” His voice trailed off as he attempted to gather his thoughts.

“I have to trust Dumbledore,” he said vehemently. “He’s gone through all this trouble to keep me safe. I have to trust that it will be enough.”

Hermione offered him a sad smile, and Harry tried to change the subject. “So, Ron,” he asked, “you up for a game of chess?”

Ron’s face lit up. “Sure, mate.”

The trio settled back into the sitting room. Harry and Ron began a fierce game of Wizard’s Chess. Ron’s knight had just captured Harry’s castle as Malfoy entered the room, unnoticed by the group of Gryffindors.

“ - get him, you lazy sod!” Ron bellowed at his bishop, who half-heartedly attacked Harry’s only remaining pawn.

“Ronald! Language!” Hermione scolded him.

“Look at him, Hermione!” Ron said. “He won’t even move his bloody arse to do his job!”

A rough sound issued from the doorway, and Harry spun his head around as Malfoy finished clearing his throat.

“So sorry to interrupt,” Malfoy said, sarcasm lacing his every word. “But, Potter, you’d better get to dinner if you’d like to eat in time to meet Severus. You know how he is with you, and I’d rather not listen to him yell all evening.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry answered begrudgingly. The Slytherin left the chambers, and Harry dropped his head to his hands.

“We really should go,” he told his friends. “I can’t concentrate on Occlumency if I’m hungry, and I don’t fancy being told off by Snape tonight.”

He levitated the chessboard back to its place and watched as the broken pieces reassembled themselves. Looking back at Ron and Hermione, he noticed their once again confused expressions.

“How does Malfoy know about your Occlumency lessons, Harry?” Hermione asked, not bothering to keep the accusatory tone out of her voice.

Harry sighed. The question reminded him of their earlier conversation about Malfoy’s ‘manners.’ Was it that surprising that Malfoy knew things about Harry’s routine when they were sharing a dorm? Granted, Harry had not told them that Malfoy was helping him with the Occlumency lessons. Still, he told himself.

“Remember how Dumbledore told me I wouldn’t be alone with Snape this year?” he asked. Ron and Hermione nodded their assent, and Harry opened his mouth to continue his explanation.

“Oh, no, Harry,” Hermione interrupted. “It wasn’t Dumbledore who stayed with you, was it? It’s Malfoy.”

Ron’s jaw dropped when Harry nodded.

“Blimey,” Ron spat. “Dumbledore’s letting that Death Eater play around in your head, Harry?”

Running his hands through his frazzled hair, Harry tried to explain. “He’s not a Death Eater, Ron. I know you still can’t stand him, but he’s on our side now.”

“So you can stand him now, Harry?” Ron asked heatedly. “Bet he’s being a great mate.”

“No, Ron, it’s not like that,” Harry replied, getting angry with his friend‘s accusation. “We’re not mates, or friends, or anything like that! We’re stuck in an arrangement neither of us are happy with. All we’re doing is trying to get along peacefully, and so far, we have!”

“Yeah, it seems real peaceful to me.”

Harry looked Ron dead in the eye. “Come on, Ron. I’ve gotten along with Malfoy since the beginning of term, and he’s actually helped me in Occlumency. A lot, actually,” he said. “Blimey, I’ve even lived with him for three days, and we haven’t even hexed each other once! I’m not asking you to befriend him, I’m just asking that you be civil until I can move back to the tower.”

Ron’s eyes bore into him while Harry waited for his words to sink in. He let out a long breath when Ron gave a jerky nod in consent. It wasn’t a peace treaty, but it was a start.

“Why didn’t you tell us, Harry?” Hermione looked concerned as she turned to Harry.

He sighed. “I don’t know, Hermione. I just never thought about it, I guess. I’m doing what I have to do to stay alive. If Malfoy’s a part of that, I can’t really help it.”

It’s not a complete lie, Harry told himself. He kept the information of Malfoy’s involvement to himself, knowing his friends would take the news poorly, but he also really did want to stay safe.

“I need to eat, though,” Harry said, trying to change the subject. “Are you guys hungry?”

“Bloody starving,” Ron said, as Harry and Hermione shook their heads, the three friends chuckling as they made their way to the Great Hall.


To Be Continued…
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Author’s Note: Well, here it is!! I’ve got a bunch of notes this week, so I’ll just get on with it:

Thanks SOOO much to all the readers that have read and reviewed. You guys are great, and make this all worthwhile.

Also, KitBaiu and ShadowSamurai get the amazing praise for being some of the most helpful betas I’ve ever worked with.

And you guys are all either going to hate me or love me after next week’s chapter… ;) So far the voting tally stands at Bonding: 5, Wards Failing: 0. We find out next week!!

Next Week’s Title!!!
“Draco Has Decided To Join Us”