"How?" Harry asked.
                              
"It doesn't matter... they threatened to tell everyone and let them have me."
                              
"Whatda you mean?"
                              
"After they beat the shit out of me, I had to limp my way to the hospital wing... through the school. No one wanted to help me. Not the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs or the Ravenclaws. They pushed me down, even hexed me. I was a Death Eater... a disgraced one. Everyone hated me."
                              
"Blaise rescued me, even in my dream... that's why it's so strange. No one ever rescues me in my dreams. And the memory just kept going through getting treated in the hospital wing and the walk back to Slytherin. It's never done that. Nothing bad happened... after Blaise showed up, anyway."
                              
Harry looked at him, sorrow filling his heart. "Why don't you want to tell me everything?"
                              
"Pride," Draco said, wiping tears from his eyes. 
                              
Harry looked at him. He did not like that. "They didn't... do anything... to you, did they?"
                              
Malfoy tightened up. "No. It was close though."
                              
Harry sensed that he'd be intruding if he poked him anymore. It was his turn. "Mine started off on one of my standbys."
                              
"Standbys?"
                              
"Yeah... the dreams that always come back."
                              
"Oh... I have those... I call them my fave five. But standbys sounds better."
                              
Harry gave him a look, but let it go. "I was at the graveyard... where Voldemort came back. We went through the motions, death, torture and taunting... then it changed. He pushed me into a grave. I couldn't get out. Then the dirt started to come in. I cried out, but it just kept coming, slowly filling the grave and I couldn't move. I looked up and it wasn't Voldemort... it was Ron. He was shoveling in the dirt. He said that I choose this. I pleaded with him and begged him, but he just said the same thing and poured more dirt in. Slowly it came up to my head and then I was covered. I couldn't breathe and I was panicking. That's when I woke up."
                              
"I'm sorry," Malfoy said.
                              
"It's not your fault."
                              
"But it is... however you wish to look at it. You stuck up for me and you're paying for it."
                              
"I was willing to. Don't forget that. Ron wouldn't really do that to me."
                              
"There's always some truth or meaning to dreams, Harry. It meant something, whether you believe it or not."
                              
Harry snorted. "I just thought my mind enjoys tormenting me."
                              
"Probably."
                              
"Hungry? We can finish that open box of pancake mix?"
                              
Draco nodded. "Sounds good."
                              
"Alright... let's go... breakfast time!"
                              
Malfoy followed him to the kitchen and started to pull out the bowls, measuring cup and mix. Harry sat down, watching him work with a smile. Malfoy mixed it up without any help. When he put the griddle on the stove he stopped like he was stuck.
                              
"Potter, how do you turn on this... thing?"
                              
"Oh... yeah, you push in the knob and turn it to the lite notch."
                              
"What?" Malfoy said. Harry went over and showed him. It took a few tries, but he got it to ignite. "Huh." Draco put some oil on it and waited. Harry sat at the table.
                              
He learns quick, Harry thought, but then he jolted. "Hey... how did you get the water to boil that day when you made me oatmeal?"
                              
Draco smirked. "Magic. We are wizards, Potter."