Thanks for everyone who left me a review. Things have been really busy sorry for not updating any of my stories until now.

Please enjoy this chapter as well.

Basilisk- Raised to be assassins, fed poison and trained in the deadly arts. Their body is poisonous as a result and their bodies functions as weapons. The toxicity turns their hair silver.

"You've failed me, Quirrell. Make sure you do not fail me again. Or the punishment will be sever."

Whispers followed Harry as he and Ron left Griffindor tower.

"There he is."

"The one with white hair standing next to the red head."

"Did you see his scar?"

"Have you seen his gloves?"

Harry wished they wouldn't stare at him so much. When he asked Ron about it he just laughed and said it was because he was famous although he always glanced at Harry's gloves when he said this.

He decided to ignore them and just try to find his classrooms. Which proved to be extremely difficult, since the castle was constantly moving around. The staircases moved almost as much as the portraits did, and Peeves the Poltergeist kept pranking the first years whenever he saw them.

The classes were just as interesting if not more so then the castle. Harry was amazed by what the teachers were capable of, especially Professor McGonagall who transformed her desk into a pig and back again during their first lesson. The whole class was really impressed and excited to get started but soon realized that they would be starting off smaller...a lot smaller. After taking lots of complicated notes and they attempted to turn a match into a needle.

Herbology was taught by Professor Sprout, a small witch, who had dirt constantly under her finger nails. Harry found that he knew most of the plants she was talking about from "other" sources.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was one Uncle Vernon had told Harry to pay particular attention too. Unfortunately Professor Quirrell's lessons were a bit of a joke. He seemed unable to finish any explanations without shivering and changing the subject. Harry felt slightly uncomfortable at the way that he kept glancing over at him during the lesson but shook the feeling off, the same as he had all the other staring eyes all week.

Friday couldn't have come sooner, and the letter that Harry got that morning from Hagrid, inviting him over later that night, only multiplied that feeling.

Harry entered Potions class with a strange feeling. This whole world made him curious and confused, this room if anything was beginning to make him feel nostalgic. The walls were covered in shelves filled with the strangest things Harry had ever seen, but some he recognized.

When Professor Snape swept into the room the students went silent. This man commanded attention and obedience. Harry nodded at him then pulled out his notebook ready to take notes.

Snape entered his classroom, his robes sweeping behind him. The room quieted almost instantly. He had done this so often he didn't even take any note of the silence.

He lived in silence, one of the few elements in his life that he could control completely. His eyes flitted around at his first year students, and caught on the Potter boy. He wasn't really sure what to feel about this boy. He was James and Lily's son, but other then his eyes, which were just like Lily's and James' facial structure, he couldn't find anything in the boy that resembled them.

He vaguely noticed that Potter had already taken his notebook out. But the thing that threw him for a loop was Potter nodding at him when he reached the front of the classroom.

The boy was just to much of a mystery. Nothing about him was normal. Not from his white hair, to his constant use of gloves if the few times that he had seen him were any indication. This anomaly in his silent world made him curious. Something he wanted to find out more about, but now was not the time. Class was starting.

Potions went by smoothly. Harry answered a question about asphodel and wormwood, which he remembered from 'Before,' a serum that made the drinker go into a coma, which seemed to be called the Drought of Living Death in this world. And while Snape kept giving him strange glances he was becoming use to it.

But Harry never realized how much chaos his existence caused this world. Snape wasn't the only one who was watching Harry, and while he couldn't pinpoint it he knew he was being watch carefully by many of his classmates.

After potions Ron asked if he could join Harry to go visit Hagrid. The two of them headed out at five to three and made their way to a small house on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest.

"Back Fang! Back!" Could be heard from inside Hagrid's hut when they knocked. Both boys shared a look. Hagrid inched open the door obviously struggling to hold Fang away from it. The boys tentatively entered the house. There was only one bedroom in the small hut, with pheasants hanging from the walls and a large bed covered in a patchwork quilt.

"Make yerselves at home," Hagrid said letting go of Fang and turning to take the teapot that was hanging over the fire in the huge fireplace. Fang bound straight at Ron and started licking his face. Clearly Fang, just like Hagrid, was not as fierce as he looked.

"I'm Ron"

"Another Weasley, eh? I swear I spend half me time chasin' your twin brothers away from the Forbidden Forest."

Hagrid served the two boys some tea and what Harry could only think of as rock cakes. They told Hagrid about their first week at school. Ron seemed to enjoy having an audience telling every little detail he could think of.

Hagrid asked about his family and Ron started talking about what his older brothers were doing. Harry let his eyes wondered when he spotted a cut out piece of paper.

"Hey Hagrid, what is this?" Harry asked holding up a newspaper article. "Do you think this happened while we were in Gringotts?"

Harry held the article out for Ron and Hagrid to see. GRINGOTTS BREAK IN LATEST.

"No" Hagrid said, taking the article from Harry's hands then quickly changed the conversation.

There had to be a way to get his masters trust again. The failure at Gringotts had caused him to keep a closer watch on him, and while he didn't posses him he had threatened to. He kept staring at the news article that had appeared earlier in the Daily Prophet.

There had to be a way, there just had to be. Looking around his office he saw something that gave him an idea. He stood and walked over to his bookshelf, picking up a book that had fallen out.

Potions: Poisons or Cures. By C. K. Silver.

A smile crept across his face.

The weeks passed quickly and while Harry was still getting stared at, the novelty had worn off and almost everyone had settled into a schedule. Harry usually ate by himself although Ron would occasionally join him with some of their roommates. Ron had become really good friends with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, and they would often get into arguments over which was better Quidditch or Football.

Draco noticed Potter's stand-offish behavior, from the Slytherin table, and the boy continued to intrigue him. It may have been because of his constant surveillance that he started to notice when Harry wasn't feeling well.

Draco wasn't sure but something was off about Potter. It started about three weeks after the Sorting, Potter began leaving each meal early. As soon as he finished eating he would disappear for at least a half-an-hour. No matter how much Draco tried to follow him, even if he was right behind him when he left the Great Hall, as soon as he passed those doors it was as if the mysterious boy had never existed.

It wasn't until two weeks later that Draco found out where he disappeared to.

He had been held up that morning trying to resolve a fight between Crabbe and Pansy. The two of them had been dead set on proving that theirs was the superior gender. They had managed to pull most of the first years and not a few of the upperclassmen into the fight, He had finally managed to get them to agree that there was no superior gender... Or at least to agree to disagree.

When he was finally on his way to the Great Hall, he got turned around when one of the corridors decided that it wanted to go somewhere else. Draco was making his way through the back halls of what he hoped was the right direction, when he spotted a figure slumped against the wall trying climb back to their feet. He carefully approached the figure. The boy stepped out of the shadows, the torchlight reflecting off of startling white hair.

A groan escaped from Potters lips, unaware of his audience, then he collapsed to the floor unconscious.

Draco panicked. His mind went blank and his body moved before he could truly process what had just happened. He placed his ear over Harry's chest to make sure his heart was still beating, causing him to sigh in relief when he found that it was. He then lifted the savior and carried him into an empty classroom.

This wasn't how he had expected to find Harry. The boy was pale and his breathing was ragged. Draco needed to get him to the hospital wing but he wasn't sure how he was going to manage that. The small walk from the hallway to the classroom seemed to have taken all of Potters energy and his condition seemed worse then it had been.

Draco decided he would have to find Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, and bring her back here with him. He pulled off his robes and laid them over Harry and in an unconscious gesture checked Harry's forehead to see if he had a fever.

It happened very fast almost to fast for him to process, one second he was standing up the next he felt awful and he could see the ground rushing up to meet him, before he fell into unconsciousness.

A thump woke Harry from his sickly sleep. Looking around the dim room he saw the boy that he had meet at Madam Malkin's lying passed out on the floor next to him.

"You idiot." Harry breathed as he realized that Draco had touched him. He moved slightly to reach for a small vile in his pocket, the movement knocking off the robe that Draco had placed on him earlier. He smiled slightly at the realization of what the blond was trying to do.

The poison was slowly processing itself out of his body, making him more able to move. Uncorking the vile he lifted Draco's head up and poured the liquid into Draco's mouth, gently messaging his throat to make sure that he swallowed it.

By the time he was sure that Draco was recovering, he had fully processed the poisons that had been coursing through his own body and was able pick up the blond. Carrying him in his arms he carefully made his way to the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey rushed to meet him when she saw him. Casting a spell she gently lifted Draco out of Harry's arms and placed him in one of the many beds.

"What happened?" She asked casting a diagnosis spell at Draco. "Hm...Nothing seems to be wrong with him, although his blood pressure is low and it doesn't look like he's eaten anything this morning."

"I found him unconscious." Harry supplied.

"Poor boy must have passed out from fatigue on top of lack of food. I've seen it happen to quite a few students, especially first years or seventh years. Oh well. He'll be fine. He just needs to rest..." Madam Pomfrey seemed to notice Harry watching her, because she waved her hand at him. "Off you go. No point in staying around here you'll just make it harder for him to rest. Shoo."

Harry nodded to the matron then with one last glance at the Slytherin he left the room.

Draco woke up a little while later with a small headache. The dim light in the hospital wing made him squint. It took him a moment to remember why I he was there in the first place.

He had found Potter sick and then after making sure he was comfortable he...couldn't remember. Nothing. There was absolutely nothing after that. How had he gotten here then? But if he was here then Potter must be here!

Sitting up a little to quickly he pulled the curtains around his bed and looked around the hospital wing for another bed that was filled. But every bed was open and ready for any sick students that would come in. No other bed was taken.

Madam Pomfrey walked over to him. "How are you feeling Mr. Malfoy?" she asked checking his eyes for any dilation.

"Er... Okay I guess. What happened? Is Potter okay?"

Madam Pomfrey looked at him funny for a second then went back to her examination.

"You passed out. Luckily Potter found you and brought you here. Potter himself is just fine last I saw him. Now stop talking and let me make sure there's no lasting harm."

Potter was fine? But he had been so sick when Draco had seen him. There was no way he could have recovered that quickly. What had happened then? And why had Draco passed out?

"Madam? Why did I pass out?"

Madam Pomfrey looked up from her quill and parchment. "From what I can tell, lack of sleep and lack of food. You really shouldn't skip meals Mr. Malfoy. Well you seem to have recovered just make sure to eat from now on, and I want you to rest today."

Draco nodded, then gathering his things that were sitting at the foot of his bed he left the hospital wing.