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It was a cold November night, and Draco was sleepless. Damn, I should have gotten those sleeping draughts today. I haven't been sleeping well for weeks. He got out of bed, since it was no good staying in there if you couldn't sleep, and went out of his dorm. He thought of staying in the Slytherin common room just for a little while, but he knew another place where he could go without being bothered. It was his favorite place – the disused storage room. It was abandoned and musty and dirty and cold and had so much more defects, but it was still one of his favorite places at Hogwarts. He had found it interesting two years earlier so he had chosen to keep visiting it.

It was just breathtakingly beautiful to see the moon and the stars lighting the room. It was nice to feel how the cold air made the hair on your neck stand. It was comfortable sitting on the window pane, just staring at the moon, the stars, the lake and the stretch of the Quidditch field that could be appreciated from there. It was a sad kind of beauty, as most beautiful things were.

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He walked out of the Slytherin house in his pyjamas, trying not to make a sound, even if it wasn't difficult for him, at all. After a short walk, he finally arrived to the room. The door was ajar, which made Draco realize someone might be in there, probably Filch. But if it was him, it didn't matter, because Draco was Head Boy, so he just had to say he was on patrol, even if it was a little bit late. He just needed to be alone, to think. He finally decided to go in; he pushed the door open very slowly, so he could get a better view of the room, and when he did, he saw a boy sitting with his legs crossed in the windowpane, crying, and holding a knife.

Draco thought it would be hard to recognize the figure, but it wasn't. He could recognize that style anywhere. It was weird, rather obsessive. The boy reached up the knife, probably about to do something stupid. Oh, what the hell?!

"Potter… what are you doing?" Harry jumped out of surprise. He wasn't expecting it, and he thought that his day couldn't get any better.

"It's none of your damn business, Malfoy."

"It certainly is, I'm Head Boy, remember? I can get you detention for this."

Harry tucked the knife under his legs, for a second having forgotten it was there. He turned his head to look out of the window again.

"I don't think even you would be that stupid, Malfoy. You're out of bed too, you know? And patrol time is over; but after all it is you, so it wouldn't surprise me."

"Oh well; you're right, Potty, and by the way, there's no use in hiding the knife since I already saw it. So, were you trying to slice yourself up?" he asked acerbically.

"I told you it was none of your business, Malfoy. Now leave me alone." He was angry, tears were spilling from his eyes again, it was really embarrassing to cry out of rage in front of someone; Malfoy of all people, but he couldn't help it. He just needed to be alone. But no, he had to find Malfoy there. Shit! Damn Malfoy… Seriously my day couldn't get any better, but something bad could only get worse.

"Is the Golden Boy going to start crying again?" Draco asked boosting his sarcasm a notch, but Harry had had enough. He jumped out of the windowpane, letting the knife fall, failing to notice it out of anger; but right then, it didn't matter. He pushed Draco to the opposite wall, pinning his shoulders. Draco didn't move; he kept himself quite calm for someone who might have two or three ribs broken, or who might die from asphyxia in two more minutes.

"Malfoy, I told you to leave me alone. Can't you just do it for a freaking day?"

"No, Potter, I can't," Draco said, keeping the same calm. Harry loosened Draco a bit. They were looking at each other. Draco bit his lip subconsciously, Harry did too; he shook his head and released Draco.

"Fine, Malfoy, you stay; I'll leave." He turned around and left the room.

----------

Draco stood there for a while, replaying the previous minutes. Everything had happened so fast that he had forgotten what he was doing there. He let himself fall to the floor, so he was left sitting in the darkest corner of the room. What the hell did I just do? He just couldn't explain it.He looked around the room to see what had fallen while he confronted Harry. He found it; it was shining right in front of him. He bent forward to pick it up – it was cold – and just stared at it for a little while. He slid it into his pocket and left; there was still something he had to do before going off to bed.

The following day at breakfast the owl post arrived as usual, and a big barn owl swept over the Gryffindor table and landed on Harry's plate. Lucky you it was empty, you stupid owl. The owl held out its leg, and Harry took the piece of parchment; it reminded him of Sirius, because his letters usually arrived without him expecting them. Harry couldn't tell who had written to him; it was long ago since he hadn't received a letter. He detached the parchment, while the owl left without waiting for its prize, unrolled it and read out:

Meet me at the disused storage room again tonight at 10:00pm. Draco

He just stared at the name; it was bizarre… Malfoy sending him a note. So he looked up to find Draco looking at him. What do you want, Malfoy? He looked down at his plate again, but he didn't feel like eating at all.

"Harry, you alright?"

"Yeah Herm, thanks." He sighed. "It's nothing, I was just thinking about … um Quidditch and all the stuff we have to do for homework… you know… to see if I am going to be able to do it all for tomorrow. I need the weekend off, because I'm tired, so you know, that's all."

"Well good. You had us worried," Ron said.

"Oh, then you might want to come with us to the library tonight, to do some research," Hermione suggested.

"Well, tonight I can't. I have to... um talk to McGonagall about something," Harry said, remembering his appointment with Draco.

"Oh, okay then," Hermione said, looking very disappointed at Harry's reluctance.

"Sorry, Herm, maybe tomorrow."

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Finally breakfast was over and they all went to their classes. The day went better than Harry had expected it to go, his stomach churned and he thought about going to tickle the pear later on.

He sat in the common room by the fire and saw Ron and Hermione walk out of the house, making their way to the library, each carrying a pile of books.

"Harry, don't you have an appointment with McGonagall?" Hermione asked him, with an expression of disappointment mixed with surprise at his lack of responsibility.

Huh? "What are you talking abou–" Oh! His eyes went wide with shock. "Oh… yes thank you, Hermione, I forgot." Damn you Malfoy. "Well, I have to go."

He went up to the boys' dorm to get his Invisibility Cloak. He ran to the storage room as fast as he could, wishing Draco would still be there. How could I forget! And what does he want from me anyway? He opened the door and saw Draco sitting on a chair with his arms around his legs. Harry let out a sigh of relief and took off his Invisibility Cloak.

"You're late, Potter. I was almost leaving," Draco said in a bored and exhausted voice.

"But you didn't, you're here. What do you want?" Draco was looking at a spot on the floor and didn't answer. "You know the note…"

"Oh that– yes, I wanted to talk to you about last night, and I also wanted to give you this." He took Harry's knife, which he had wrapped in a black silk cloth, and slowly withdrew it from his pocket, holding Harry's eyes with his own, as he handed it to him.

"I never thought that 'thank you' and 'Malfoy' would ever be together in a sentence that Iwould be saying… So thank you, and by the way, there's nothing to talk about."

"Yes there is, Harry, I know what you're doing and I know exactly how you feel." That is so cliché, both of them thought at the same time.

"No you don't, Malfoy, because your dear Death Eater family wouldn't let you," Harry replied sarcastically.

"You have no idea about what my lovely Death Eater family has made me go through, and I do know how it feels to be up at night, crying your ass off because you hate your life, I know how it feels to be caged and wanting to talk, but not be able to, I know exactly how good it feels to slice yourself up about things that people don't understand, I know how great it feels to be able to control your pain, by creating it yourself, I know exactly how you feel, Potter, believe me." Draco pulled up his T-shirt.

"Malfoy what the hell do you think you're doing?" Today it was his turn to ask that. Draco took Harry's hand and brought it up to his stomach. Harry didn't pull back, as he made Harry touch him there, made him touch the scars he kept to himself, the scars that had been hidden for so long. Harry was shocked. Who would have guessed? Malfoy, of all people.

"Whoa… uh– Malfoy I had no idea you did that but…" I'm sorry…

"Don't be." What the fuck! Did I say that out loud? Despite his shock, he chuckled at Harry's expression. "Those scars are old; I don't do that anymore. It started four years ago and lasted about two years. It all started when I realized… stuff."

"Damn! What sort of stuff?"

"Do you really want to know, Potty?"

"Yes, and by the way, it is Harry."

"Whatever, Pot--" Harry arched an eyebrow. "Fine, Harry! It started when I got tired of my father bossing me around, wanting me to do stuff I don't want to do and won't; when I realized something was wrong with me because I wanted stuff I couldn't and shouldn't have, and by the way, won't have. And when I wanted to be friend of someone I hated."

"You almost make it sound like it was me!"

Draco laughed at the sarcastic comment.

"Anyway, I didn't know you had that kind of problems, Malfoy."

"There's a lot of stuff you don't know about me, and by the way, it's Draco." He smiled at Harry smugly.

"Why did you start though?" Draco asked, fondly curious.

"Because."

"What?"

"I."

"Uh-huh…"

"Hate my life. I have no parents, the ones I have I would like to kill, the one I had died a year ago, and this is my last year at Hogwarts – my home – and I don't know what to do, or where to go, and the person I like… there's no way in hell that person would like me back, and the bad thing about it is that I shouldn't like that person, and everything is so confusing." He started crying again.

"It's okay." Draco was shocked; he didn't know how to react to this weakness of Harry letting him see he was crying.

"No it's not, and I shouldn't be talking about this with you of all people!"

"Don't worry. I won't tell Granger about it."

"Tell her what? That I cut?"

"No, that you like her."

"What? Oh no! Hermione? Nonono, I don't like her."

"Who is it then?"

"You really wanna know?"

"Yes, is it Pansy?" They both made a face at the thought.

"No."

"Then tell me. If it is not her, it can't be that bad!"

"Well, fine… He has blond hair, gray eyes and nice body; he's the best at potions and a total prick."

"Hmm… That's interesting. Is he in Slytherin, truly handsome, second best Seeker in the school, and does he happen to like the Gryffindork Golden Boy?"

"Hey!"

"Yeah, yeah definitely Malfoy… you see, I told you it couldn't be that bad." He smirked.

"Perhaps. Does that kid– Malfoy, was it?"

"Yes."

"Okay, does that Malfoy kid like the best Seeker, green eyed Gryffindor–" Draco wisely interrupted the boring chat with a kiss. He pinned Harry to the wall and kissed him again, boldly this time. Harry didn't resist, he didn't want to; he wasn't going to pass this opportunity.

"Does that answer your question?"

"Mmm…"

"Does that answer your question?"

"I guess so."

"Shut up and come here…" Harry turned around, so that he had Draco pinned to the wall and kissed him slowly, possessively, but still affectionately, and then he realized why Draco had said that everything was going to be fine, and he was right; it was.

The End