I don't own the characters, setting etc! Jk owns allllll... My little plot though ;)

Chapter One

Draco sat motionlessly in the silence of the empty Slytherin common room. His cheeks soaked with tears. His eyes open, staring at the fireplace, deep in thought. He was fed up, fed up with being treated like dirt. But what could he do? He was merely his father's son. And being his father's son required whit, intelligence, arrogance and a cold cruel heart. None of which he had. He wasn't good enough for his father. A letter recently sent from Mr Malfoy, via owl, clearly stated this. As Draco recalled the words, more tears began to fall onto his robes,

"Not good enough for this family? A disgrace? What did I do wrong, why now? I thought I was doing so well," Suddenly Draco heard the floor creek behind him. He quickly wiped his cheeks and swivelled round to meet the eager eyes of Crabe, one of his followers, "What do you want?" Draco spat, as an expression of anger appeared on his cold face. He hated being interrupted.

"Uh, well," Crabbe began in his slow, dim voice, "I saw Potter in the corridor jus' now..." Draco raised an eyebrow, apparently not concerned with this useless information, "And well, 'e' was talkin' to someone..." Crabbe gulped, clearly wondering if telling Draco was a good idea. Although Draco was starting to look slightly more interested,

"With who? And why was he in the corridor? Corridors are 'out of bounds'," He sniggered.

"I dunno... I didn't see who 'e' was talkin' to... I bet 'e's still there now..." Draco's eyes widened slightly in satisfaction. Potter? Out in the corridor? Now? He scoffed, it was perfect. He couldn't ask for a better situation. Crabbe remained standing in front of Draco, casting a large shadow over him,

"Uh, you can go now." Draco said coldly, pushing his friend aside. He had more important things to do...

"Well, what in the hell am I supposed to say then? Oh hi, do you happen to know where I left my wand, only I can't find it...Yeah, because he's going to fall for that!" Harry snapped sarcastically, "I don't know how you talked me into this Ron, but you sure as hell better have a plan!" Although Harry couldn't see him because he was hidden by the invisibility cloak, he had a sure idea what Ron was doing, "Yeah, you can laugh! You're not the one about to try and trick Malfoy into telling how his uncle died! Why do we need to know this anyway? Besides, Crabbe's already seen me talking to myself!" Harry snapped more irritably.

"Look, Hermione wanted us to find out. I'm sure there's good reason for it. Besides, I have a plan," Ron began,

"Oh yeah? It's about time!"

"All you have to do, is walk in, ask Malfoy, he tells you, then you tell me and I tell Hermione..." But before Harry could express his pure anger, the Slytherin common room door began to move. Just as Harry was about to attempt to make a dive at the spot where he though Ron stood, Malfoy appeared in the doorway. Harry's eyes widened, but he quickly gathered himself, trying not to show any sign of weakness.

"Potter," Draco snarled in satisfaction, "What's a kid like you doing down here?" But before Harry could explain, Draco continued, "You know I could put you in detention for this? Seeing as I am a prefect." He smiled sickly.

"Well... I... I just wanted to um... to talk to you..." Harry smiled as genuinely as he could. He knew this wasn't going to work. Why would Malfoy suddenly invite him in to be best buds and suddenly feel the desire to poor his heart out to his arched enemy? Harry began to seriously consider turning on his heel and leaving there and then.

"You what?" Malfoy asked rather too quickly, clearly taken slightly aback by the unusual request. Harry took a deep breath, only remembering Hermione's suggestion to form some sort of friendship or bond with him. He had to somehow make Malfoy trust him. Without wanting to leave the blond boy waiting much longer and not knowing what he was going to say, he began slowly,

"Well... I just wanted to... to talk... I didn't think anyone would ever understand... but then I thought... I thought maybe you would..." he said, the words just pouring out. He didn't know exactly what he was going to talk to Malfoy about, but surely making himself seem more vulnerable was a start. If Malfoy thought he wanted to discuss personal matters with him, he might somehow trust him in return.

What does Potter think he's playing at? Draco thought, but what if he was really trying to talk to him. What if he wanted to tell him something deep and personal? Draco sniggered at the thought and decided to play along, deciding that whatever Potter wanted to tell him, might become quite useful. "Alright, so what do you want me to do about it?" Draco shrugged, seeming not to care.

"Well... to listen... I guess that would be a start..." Harry looked to the floor. Suddenly Draco felt an immense guilt. He wasn't joking. He really wanted to talk. The thought of this made Draco lose his confidence as he watched Harry scuffing his shoes on the dusty corridor floor.

"What," Draco snapped, then started again more softly, "What did you want to tell me?" still keeping his guard up, just in case Harry was going to randomly announce it was all a joke. Harry lifted his eyes from the floor reluctantly. His face looked pail, much different from what it had been a few moments before. He looked sad somehow, almost morbid. Draco didn't know what to do or say, he just looked into Harry's eyes as if looking for a sign. Harry's eyes suddenly appeared a lot greener, a lot more appealing. Draco blinked long and hard, trying to shake the idea from his mind. But when he looked again, Harry's glasses and hair also seemed more appealing. Draco blinked harder, breaking eye contact with him again. How could he be thinking this? He must just be tired. That's all it is. He's just tired. But as he unwillingly looked back at Harry for the third time, his eyes were immediately drawn to Harry's lips, as the raven haired boy absentmindedly licked them. Draco found himself suddenly aware of where he was looking and how he was standing. He looked straight past Harry and settled his gaze on the wall. He didn't know what to do. What was happening? Visions of his fathers letter swam to the forefront of his mind. He felt his hands become clammy and tried to swallow the developing lump in his throat.

Malfoy seemed off guard when Harry looked back up, as if something had thrown him, thrown his original trail of thought. He was staring straight past Harry, to the wall. "Are you alright?" Harry asked before thinking, turning to look at the wall behind him, as if the answer lay somewhere amongst the stone.

"Um, yeah. Fine. I'm fine," Malfoy coughed and mumbled in an unconvincing tone. Something was wrong. Of all the ways this situation could have panned out, he never expected this. Was Malfoy, upset?

"Should I go?" Harry suggested quickly, "Maybe this is a bad time?" Malfoy just waved his hand, as if brushing his thoughts away from him,

"No, no, this isn't a bad time, I mean, it's OK..." He coughed the lump in his throat away for a second time, beginning to regain his usual arrogance "What did you want to talk about?" Malfoy looked straight back at Harry. Amongst the unforeseen awkwardness, Harry had forgotten he was trying to think up a story. Hell, he hadn't even thought he was even going to see Malfoy! He was just trying to get Ron off his back! He thought if he just humoured Ron, walked up to the Slytherin common room entrance and showed Ron they couldn't get in, that they would have just headed back and that would have been the end of it!

"Well, I can't really say here..." Harry said uneasily. He didn't want Malfoy to pick up the scent. He didn't want Malfoy to realise he was faking the whole thing. He needed more time. More time to somehow think of a plan, a story.

"Oh right, yeah, some other time, after school hours?" Malfoy suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I guess. I um... I better get back to bed before Filch finds me." He quickly replied, turning on his heel and beginning to rush of down the corridor.

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