Whoo! Chapter three! Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews again, which keeps me motivated, so here y'all go!

Oh, and I should have another Drarry one-shot coming out soon...


The first time Harry realized he could see colors was when he was three and making breakfast for his relatives.

He had been watching as the bacon slowly shriveled and hardened, as there was a crackle and pop from the grease, as they sometimes bumped into another. It was then that he noticed that the bacon was a color other than black, a color he shouldn't have been able to see.

Red.

The bacon had been the color red.

He stood there, watching as the grease would crackle and pop, the bacon still its sort of slightly burnt red. He had heard of the stories, that when you meet or brush against your soulmate, you would be able to see colors. He had heard of stories where the world is just black and white until you do or if you never do. He had heard of the Soulless, who his aunt and uncle always called 'freaks', who never met or had a soulmate and never will.

When had he met his?

He had only been three and his aunt and uncle never let him out of the house, so it was impossible he had met them while with his relatives.

So maybe that meant he met them while with his parents.

While he had been thinking, he had never seen the bacon burning until his aunt had shrilled, "BOY! WHY AREN'T YOU WATCHING THE BACON?!"

(His hand was placed on the stove as punishment and his aunt only watched as he cried in pain.)

That night, as he had laid in his cupboard, he had held his hand in front of his face in the dark and had whispered, "One day, I'll find you. And that day will be the greatest day of my life."


The stormy grey eyes staring into his were beautiful. They looked like pools of melted mercury, endless in their depths, swirling with emotions and knowledge. They were beautiful, and he couldn't stop staring at them.

"Did you hear me?"

The sort of raspy and sultry voice shook his out of his revere and he blinked owlishly. Then, with a flush, he nodded. "Uh, yeah, that'd be great if you would."

There was a chuckle as the mercury-eyed teen smiled. "No problem," he replied, hoisting himself into the van.

Harry knelt, face still flushed, to pick up the boxes he had dropped. As he stood and stumbled slightly, he noticed the mercury-eyed and raspy and sultry sounding teen had blonde hair. But it wasn't just blonde, it almost looked like white, but more, like cornstarch. It was combed to the side and left alone, several strands breaking from the hair gel that could be seen glistening in it.

The platinum blonde caught his eye and smiled, giving him a wink.

Harry blushed.

Yup, this guy was gorgeous.

He climbed down the ramp, peering over the side of them as he made his way past the gate, the blonde only climbing down seconds after he did. As they made their way into the house, the blonde asked, "Are you one of the new neighbors?"

"Yeah," he responded as they made their way into the kitchen.

Aunt Petunia almost immediately made a sour face but plastered a smile on instead once she saw the blonde teen behind Harry. "Ah, Harry, who is your new friend?" she asked as the two set the boxes down.

He looked at her and said, "This is, uh . . ." He trailed off, then looked to the blonde, who smiled.

"I'm Draco Malfoy, your next door neighbor." He held out a hand for Aunt Petunia to shake.

"It's so nice to meet you," his aunt simpered. She took his hand in hers, shaking it as she added, "I hope Harry hasn't made a bad impression on you. He can sometimes be a little too much." She shot him a look, then gave Draco a smile. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen," Draco replied smoothly, still smiling, hand still clasped in Petunia's. "I actually startled Harry, really, when I offered to help him. He was about to climb down the ramp when I asked him of he wanted help." He gave Harry a look that said is she really your aunt?

Harry nodded slightly, then gave his aunt a tight smile. "Aunt Petunia, Draco and I will go and get some more of the boxes, if that's alright with you."

"Ah, of course, of course." She let Draco's hand go and gave him one last smile.

Harry gave her another tight smile, then directed Draco out of the kitchen. As he was about to leave, his aunt clamped a hand down on his shoulder and hissed in his ear, "Do not, and I repeat, do not leave a bad impression on this family, Harry Potter. Or Vernon will have some 'words' with you."

Harry flinched slightly.

(The last time Uncle Vernon had words with him, he had been unconscious for a week.)

He nodded and made his way outside once her hand was gone from his shoulder. Draco was already inside of the moving van again, Chad and Matt dragging a chifforobe down the ramp.

"Hey kid," Chad grunted as Harry passed him up the ramp.

"Oh, might want to be careful with that," Harry told the man. "Aunt Petunia will kill you if you so much as get a speck of dirt or a scratch in it."

The man grunted in response.

Harry spent a few seconds watching as the two men dragged the old chifforobe up the porch steps and into the house, his aunt's voice drifting out through the door, "If you so much as get a speck of dirt on that . . .!"

He snickered a little, then turned to help Draco get some boxes.

As they rummaged through the furniture, Draco asked, "Is your aunt always like that?"

"Like what?"

"A little nosy?"

Harry laughed. "Yeah. You could say so."

"Man. Is it just you and her?"

"No. My uncle and my cousin, too."

"What's your uncle like?"

He tried to think of words that would describe his uncle to someone who didn't know him. "I guess you could say he is a . . . nonproductive man? He hates anything to do with strenuous activity."

"Does that include sex, then?"

Harry burst out laughing. "Oh god!"

"What? It's a serious question!"

"I don't want to think about what he does with my aunt! That's just disgusting!"

Draco laughed, shaking his head, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

Harry stared, then blurted out, "Your eyes are pretty."

It was silent.

Then Draco asked, "What do you mean?"

"Your eyes, they sort of . . . twinkle? And the color of them . . ."

Draco dropped the box he was holding, spinning around to face Harry. "You can see the color of my eyes?"

Harry scrunched his face up. "Yeah. They're a stormy mercury color. Why?"

Draco stared at him, then turned his head to the side. "I have to go," he mumbled, moving past Harry.

"Wait!" He set his box down and scrambled after Draco. "Have I said something wrong to you?"

He got no response.


As he stared at his ceiling later that night, he thought about what he had told Draco and how his eyes looked pretty, their stormy mercury grey color . . .

He turned on his side, sighing.

What had he said wrong?


All done! Chapter four will start with a few days later, where Harry will run into Draco and meet some of Draco's friends. It'll also include why Draco ran away.

I'm proud of how this turned out!

Thanks for reading and looking forward to reviews!