Draco couldn't sleep. He turned onto his side. Couldn't sleep. He turned onto his back, his stomach, nothing. He was so tired, but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't fall asleep. Maybe that's the problem, maybe he's trying too hard. Okay, just relax and... sleep! Nothing. Draco groaned and sat up, grabbing his wand from the bedside table and casting a Tempus charm. It read 3:14 am.

Great. Just bloody fantastic.

He decided that it was much too hot for his liking (the exact opposite of the Slytherin dungeons, where it was always freezing, so he had bought long sleeved pajamas) and peeled off his shirt, throwing it across the room (yes, Draco, so neat). Draco yawned and laid back down and closed his eyes, but they just would not stay closed. Usually when this happened it means that something is going to happen. It's kind of like a sixth sense or something. It used to happen all the time during the war, that feeling would start creeping inside him, and he couldn't ignore it. It was like an itch that wouldn't go away until he found out what was going on. It was almost like curiosity, one would think it was curiosity, but Draco had been curious before and it didn't feel like this. So he did the only thing he could think to do to pass time. He stared at the ceiling. It is quite a nice ceiling, you know, if you tilt your head to the side far enough, and if you squint your eyes, it is actually very nice. As nice as a ceiling can be anyways. He heard a whimper from the other side of the room. Draco sat up and looked towards the sound, but all was silent. Potter must have done it in his sleep. Another thing, Draco and Potter are dorm mates. Honestly, what was the Headmistress thinking? Probably, Oh, lets make Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter share a room together and see what happens. This ought to be fun to watch. That evil, evil, old lady. But they actually had gotten along pretty fine, well, as fine as two formal rivals can. Potter didn't bother Draco, and Draco didn't bother Potter, simple as that. It was even more simple when they only ever saw each other in the morning and the evening, and Draco was usually already in bed by the time Potter came up from the common room, and Draco was an early riser, well, earlier than Potter. So Draco and Potter had sort of fallen into an unspoken agreement that they would try to stay out of each others way as much as humanly possible. Also, Draco had stopped being a complete prat to Potter and his friends, because there was really no reason in the first place to tease them, and he didn't find aggravating Potter quite as amusing now as he did before the war. Draco had changed. He was no longer the arrogant prick he had been in the past, and he was really trying hard to be nice to people. So, that worked itself out quite nicely actually, but Draco still hated rooming with a Gryffindor and it didn't matter if it was Potter or not, any Gryffindor would suffice. Of course, Draco didn't voice his opinion. Draco heard another soft whimper come from Potter, and when he looked over at Potter, Draco could see that he was thrashing around a bit. Potter cried out, his hands groping at thin air wildly, his breath coming out in soft pants. Potter was having a nightmare, it seemed. Draco sat up again, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and stood. This could not continue if he had any hope of getting some sleep. He walked over to Potter's bed and said,

"Potter." Nothing. "Potter." He tried again, louder. Potter kept thrashing around. "Potter, wake up." Draco bent over and shook Potter by his shoulders. Nothing. "Wake up!" He said loudly, shaking Potter again. Potter is the deepest sleeper Draco has ever known. Honestly, you'd think he would have waken up by now! Draco sighed. Might as well try to calm him down, at least. So Draco started talking to him. "Potter, whatever you're dreaming about, it's not happening. Not now. It's not real Potter, and I need you to wake up so I can go to sleep." Potter calmed down a bit. "That's it Potter, it's not real. Wake up." Potter opened his eyes. "Nice of you to join me." Draco said in an annoyed tone.

"...What?" Potter said sleepily. Draco rolled his eyes.

"You were having a nightmare, Potter." Potter blinked at him. Then he sighed.

"It felt so real." He said, sitting up. Draco bit his bottom lip, a nervous habit of his.

"What were you dreaming about, if you don't mind me asking?" Draco said. Potter looked at him for a few moments, probably trying to figure out why Draco wanted to know what he dreams about.

"If I told you, you wouldn't be very happy."

"I promise to keep my emotional levels down to a minimum." Draco said, confused as to why Potter would think Draco would be upset if he told him. Potter seemed to be thinking about it, then he sighed and nodded. Draco sat on Potter's bed, facing him.

"I was dreaming about... you." Potter said. Draco blinked stupidly.

"Me?" Potter nodded. "What about me?"

"It was back in sixth year, when I cursed you in the bathroom."

"Oh." Was all Draco said. What could he say? "Sorry." Yeah, Draco, that's much better. Wow, even in his mind he was sarcastic.

"You don't have anything to be sorry about. I'm the one who should be apologizing."

"Yeah, well, I was the one who started throwing hexes at you, so it's my own fault." Draco said, not meeting Potter's eyes.

"Well I'm still sorry."

"I'm sorry, too. For everything." Draco said, eyes staring at his lap.

"S'okay."

"No, Potter, I really am sorry. For all that I did to you. I'm sorry." Draco said. He felt a hand at his chin, tilting his head up. Grey eyes met emerald green.

"It's okay. I forgive you." Potter said. Draco let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and gave Potter a small, sad smile. Potter smiled back. They kept looking at each other, neither of them wanting to break eye contact. Then Potter lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Draco.

"Potter, why are you hugging me?" Draco asked in a soft, quiet voice.

"You looked like you needed a hug." Potter said.

"How very Gryffindor of you." He said in a dry tone.

"You're not pushing me off. I thought you would push me off."

"Who says I'm not going to?"

"You would have done it already."

"I don't want to damage your fragile ego." Draco didn't think that sounded convincing, but oh well.

"You don't sound very convincing."

"You know me so well." Potter pulled back, a serious look on his face.

"No, I don't. I wish I did."

"Me too, Potter, me too."

"I wish we weren't so stupid when we were children. Maybe things would have turned out differently if we were friends."

"Admit it Potter, I was a complete git back then. You had a perfectly good reason for not being my friend."

"You couldn't help it, you were raised that way."

"Why do you keep standing up for me?"

"I don't know. I just don't like it when you talk about yourself like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you think that everybody hates you."

"Everybody does hate me."

"I don't hate you. I'm not sure if I ever have."

"I don't think I ever hated you, either. I think I was jealous of you, what you had. What you still have, in fact." Why was Draco being so open with Potter? Maybe it was because Potter was being open right back.

"What do I have that you didn't?"

"Friends, a family that cares about you, all of that fun stuff." And the fact that Potter saved his life. That might be a reason why he was being so open.

"Oh." And maybe he was being so open because Potter looked very nice at the moment. That might be a very small, almost microscopic, reason why he was being so open.

"Yeah." They sat in silence after that. What should he do? Should he go back to bed? He wasn't used to talking to people outside his close group of friends, which was a very small group.

"Harry." Potter said.

"What?"

"Call me Harry, not Potter."

"Only if you call me Draco."

"Deal." Pott- Harry stuck out his hand. Draco took it and they shook on it. "Does this make us friends?" Harry asked.

"Do you want us to be friends?" A brief flash of something passed over Harry's face. Draco couldn't tell what it was. It looked a bit like sadness, but he wasn't sure. Potte- Harry was hard to read sometimes. He would have done well in Slytherin, Draco had to admit.

"Yeah." Harry said. Their hands were still clasped together, neither of the boys pulling away. Harry cleared his throat awkwardly and let go of Draco's hand. Draco felt a little disappointed at the absence of Harry's warm hand on his, but didn't say anything.

"I guess we should get to sleep, then." Draco said and slid off of Harry's bed.

"Yeah, goodnight, Draco." Harry said.

"Night, Harry." Draco said. He climbed into his own bed and pulled the covers over him. He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

...

The next day went on like any other day, but if you looked close enough, you would see little changes. Small smiles exchanged, short nods, secret glances, little things that would otherwise be normal, if these little things weren't being carried out by the two biggest rivals of the century. Well, they used to be rivals, only nobody would know that unless they had witnessed last night's (or early that morning's) events. One ordinary individual would not be able to pick out these little changes in Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy's behavior towards each other. But Hermione Granger was not an ordinary individual. Of course, Hermione didn't point out these little things that she noticed, but she did know they were there, and was wondering why they were being civil ( as civil as the two can be with each other, but even more than that.) to each other all of a sudden. She decided she would let it be, for now, but Harry was not off the hook. No, not by a long shot. She would get to the bottom of this. She always did.

The next week, Draco was awakened by Harry crying out in his sleep.

"No! Don't kill him!" Harry shouted. Another nightmare. "Don't kill him!" He cried. Draco walked as fast as his tired body would let him over to Harry's bed. Said boy was thrashing around, fighting off imaginary demons in his sleep. "Stop, please..." He whimpered. Draco grabbed Harry's shoulder's and shook him gently.

"Harry..."

"Please, don't kill him..."

"Harry, wake up." He sat on the edge of Harry's bed.

"Draco..." Harry whimpered. Huh. Apparently Harry was dreaming about him. Again. Draco found it sweet, in a way, that Harry would be so distraught over his death, even if it was only a dream.

"Harry, it's only a dream. Wake up, it's not real." Draco started to rub small circles on the other boy's shoulders in an attempt to calm him down. "Shh, it's alright." Merlin, when did Draco become so soft? He was only this way when Harry Potter was involved, any other person and Draco would have hexed them to the moon and back at this point. But here he was, not hexing Harry. Which was strange in it's own way. Before, when they were still children, Draco would have jumped at the chance to hex Harry Potter, or completely humiliate him, either one really.

But he and Harry were, dare he say, friends, and... friends just don't hex each other. Yeah, keep telling yourself that. You just don't want to hex him because you love- Nope! I am not thinking that right now! No. No, no, no, no, no- Oh, stop denying it! You know you do.

And he did.

He did so much it hurt.

He cared about Harry, he didn't want anything bad to happen to him, if he was gone, Draco didn't know what he would do. They had become closer over the last week, closer than Draco had ever been with anybody. They would sit in their dorm room whenever they had some spare time and talk. They talked about their troubles, their wishes, their hopes and dreams, their hobbies, anything that they felt the need to discuss. Both of them wanted to know more about the other. And Draco had started to enjoy Harry's company much more than he would like to admit. And Harry had done all of this is the short time span of a week. Merlin, Draco was in trouble. He was in love with Harry Bloody Potter and he had no clue what he should do. Harry's continuous whimpering pulled him out of his thoughts. Draco pulled the other boy into a sitting position and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. He couldn't think of anything else to do. He wasn't used to comforting people, so he did what he thought would help. Just a source of comfort, nothing more, nothing less. We are just friends, he reminded himself, sighing. Draco heard Harry sniff. He looked down. The raven haired boy was staring right back at him.

"Um... hi." Draco said awkwardly. He didn't try to pull away. Harry didn't push him away, either.

"Hi." Harry said quietly. He scooted over on the bed to make room for Draco. Draco sat next to him, and unwrapped his arms from around the Gryffindor.

"What were you dreaming about?"

"You. Again."

"Yeah, I figured as much."

"What do you mean?"

"You're very verbal when you sleep." I bet he is when he's awake, too. Shut up brain, you're not helping.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"..."

"I found it touching that you would be so upset over my death."

"No need for sarcasm, Malfoy."

"Oh, back to Malfoy now?" There was a pause. No matter what his feelings were towards Harry, Draco found it easy to talk to him. It was almost second nature now.

"Nah, I like Draco better."

"Me too." There was a pause, and then, "It really was nice, you know? It made me feel like you care."

"I do care."

"I know you do. I just don't understand why. After all of those years, after all of the bad things I've done, you still care. Why?" The boy next to Draco looked at him, but Draco wouldn't look back.

"To be honest, I really don't know. Like you said, you've done so many bad things. You've teased me about pretty much everything. You made my life hell. Why should I care?" Draco still wouldn't look at Harry. He didn't want the other boy to see the tears that had suddenly weld up in his eyes. Jeez, Draco, man up! He blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of them. "But," Harry continued, tilting Draco's head up with his hand," we can't let the bad outweigh the good. I've seen you do some bad stuff, Draco, but I could tell you didn't want to do those things. You didn't have a choice, I get that. But I've also seen you do some good things. Like when you refused to identify me at the Manor. Some things you don't even know I saw you do. It's the little things that count. So yeah, I do care. For more than one reason." He finished.

It was at that point that Draco finally met Harry's gaze, and when they made eye contact, Draco saw many emotions reflected in the other boys stare. Some were more easy to pinpoint, happiness, confusion, excitement, surprise, a bit of sadness. Draco wondered why Harry was feeling these things, but then realized that he was feeling somewhere along the lines of the same things.

And if Harry was feeling these things for the same reason Draco was feeling these things, then maybe Harry felt the same way towards Draco as Draco felt towards him.

But Draco knew that couldn't be true, because he was fairly sure that Harry wasn't gay, and there was no reason for Harry to even like Draco as a friend, so Harry liking Draco as 'more than a friend' was highly unlikely. And there was the fact that Draco is an ex-Death Eater. And there was also the fact that Draco had teased Harry endlessly when they were younger. And the fact that Draco almost killed Dumbledore, a man Harry had cared about dearly. And- and...

Harry is staring at him really weirdly. His expression is unreadable.

Draco doesn't know what to do.

He realizes that he hasn't said anything for a while, too wrapped up in his thoughts about why Harry doesn't love him back to notice what the boy was doing. Or not doing, in Harry's case. He was just staring. They held eye contact. Suddenly, Harry cradled Draco's face in his hands, lent forward and...

Oh Merlin.

Harry kissed him.

It was slow and uncertain, Harry giving Draco plenty of opportunities to pull back. But Draco didn't pull back. Instead, he moved his lips against the other boy's, kissing Harry with all that he had. Draco's hands found their way to Harry's hips, pulling the raven haired boy closer. When Draco didn't pull away, Harry became more confident in his actions and deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping past Draco's lips and exploring his mouth. Draco couldn't think of anything else at the moment. All of his thoughts were centered on Harry. Harry's lips, Harry's scent, Harry's hands, Harry's tongue. Oh Merlin, the things that boy could do with his tongue. That was what made Draco completely surrender to Harry. They parted only when the need for oxygen was too great. Draco rested his forehead against Harry's, his breathing coming out in soft pants. They sat in silence for a moment, and then,

"I love you." Harry whispered. Had the room been any louder, Draco would not have been able to hear what Harry had said. But the room was dead quiet and Draco answered with,

"I love you, too. So much." In an equally quiet whisper. Harry smiled, a big, joyful grin that made Draco feel warm all over, and Draco smiled back, because Harry felt the same way, and Draco never thought he could be this happy. Draco leaned forward and kissed Harry again. And again. And again. And again. And Draco only had one thought before he became lost in the haze of passion, and that was, maybe sharing a dorm with Harry Bloody Potter wasn't such a bad idea after all.

...

The next day was like any other day. Except for the fact that that there were some very big changes. If you had been walking down to the Great Hall that morning for breakfast, you would see Draco, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Blaise, Pansy, and all of the others from their respective groups walking together. If you had been in the Great Hall during breakfast, you would have seen those very same people sitting together at breakfast. Apparently they were all being civil to each other now. And if you were to look closely enough, you would see two not so ordinary individuals, the Savior and the former Death Eater, the blonde and the raven haired boy, the Gryffindor and the Slytherin, you would see them exchange not so secret glances, big smiles, and you would see them sit closer than necessary at breakfast, see them walk together close enough for their hands to brush. To everyone else, including their friends, they were being almost too civil to each other. But Hermione. Hermione knew what was going on. She had figured it out. She always did.

...

Yes! It's finally done! That took me forever, let me tell you. And that was my first fan fiction, yay! But enough about me. Thank you to the people who took the time to read this. A review would be great! I'll try to post more soon.

Well, I guess that's it then.

Bye!

WAIT! I almost forgot the most important thing, silly me.

All of the characters and all that jazz belong to the wonderful J.K Rowling, if it were up to me, Draco and Harry would be an actual couple, but that is not to be.

Now bye!

WAIT!

Nah, jut kidding.