Chapter One

Only three quarters of the people in Harry's classes came back to re-do their 7th year, or the '8th year', as the students referred to it. Hermione convinced Ron and Harry, among others, it was essential to complete their learning, so both unwillingly went back to Hogwarts. Almost all of the Ravenclaw's, and a fairly equal number of Hufflepuff's, Slytherin's, and Gryffindor's returned. It was hard to work out classes, for the Professors already had the usual 7 years of classes to teach, but they managed, each taking classes when they had free time.
One person in particular who came back caused the trio surprise. Draco Malfoy was reserved, withdrawn, and almost always alone. With the death of Crabbe, and Goyle not returning to school, Pansy Parkinson and the Greengrass sisters, Daphne and Astoria, were the only close friends he had left. But, Harry noticed, he spent little time with them. Wondering what was going on, but not game enough to ask, left Harry lacking concentration in everything he did.
Wanting a break from the thoughts in his head, one afternoon, a month after school started again, Harry took his broom and snitch and headed towards the Quidditch pitch. He had asked when all of the teams were practicing, and knew the pitch would be empty. Strolling out into the middle of the deserted pitch, Harry let the snitch go, waited ten seconds, then kicked off and began the chase.
After an hour, Harry was catching the snitch in less then ten seconds every time he let it go, the little golden ball having all of his attention. Little did he know, he was occupying someone else's attention.
Draco Malfoy had been in the boys changing rooms when Harry arrived at the pitch, and had snuck into the stands to watch the raven-haired beauty. Hiding behind a flapping Slytherin banner, Draco admired the way fluid way Harry moved; his intricate twists and turns, tight spinning barrels into the air, and sharp deadly dives so close to the ground it made the blondes heart skip a beat.
It had been in fourth year, when Harry had almost been killed in the Tri-Wizard tournament, that Draco had realised his feelings for Harry. Sure, he had almost died every year, but seeing Harry beaten up and bloody, laying over Cedric's dead body, Draco had a horrifying thought: "What if it was Cedric who came back, crying over Harry's dead body?"
The thought stuck fear into Draco's cold heart, and shattered it. He knew then that his rivalry with Harry was nothing more then an pathetic attempt to talk to him. Draco was sure Harry hated him - how could he not? The two's rivalry had been going on ever since the day they met at Madam Malkin's and Draco's pride had been shattered. That's really what the whole thing started over, Draco had realised; his own pride was the cause of the riff the two had carried ever since they met. Sure, they had barely spoken this year, and their fights had become less frequent, but Draco was determined to make amends with Harry. It was difficult, however, when he was always with Ron, Hermione or, worst of all, Ginny. While the two had broken up when Harry went looking for Horcruxes, they still remained very close friends. Draco wasn't sure if the two had gotten back together, but it was clear Ron and Hermione had.
Draco, to lost in his own thoughts to notice the banner hiding him had snagged, was left fully exposed on the stands, and it didn't take long for Harry to spot the blonde mop of hair in the bland brown stands. Harry caught the snitch that was flying just above his head, pocketed it, and flew over until he was hovering mere feet away from Draco.
"What are you doing here Malfoy?" Harry's question was simply that - a question - with no trace of malice or anger whatsoever. A question someone would ask a friend or acquaintance, and not laced with any hint of the hidden resentment you would hear if talking someone who you hated.
Harry's voice snapped the blonde out of his thoughts, and, out of habit, Draco's mouth turned up into a disdainful sneer. He held up his broom, which he had been clutching ever since leaving the changing rooms.
"I was about to do some flying, but apparently the pitch is occupied." Draco turned, and was about to walk away, when Harry spoke again.
"We can practice together Draco. I know you got your Seeker position back on the Quidditch team - I did as well."
"Doesn't that mean we shouldn't practice together?" Draco said, his tone clearly implying Harry was an idiot.
"I don't see why not. Sure, we're on opposing teams, but I only play for fun. The competition side doesn't appeal to me anymore. And I don't think it does to you either."
"How would you know what appeals to me Potter?" Draco sneered.
Harry let out a loud sigh and flew over to the bench Draco was standing on, dismounting and sitting next to the blonde's feet.
"I'm sick of fighting with you Draco," he said after a minute of silence.
Draco sat down, placing his broom at his feet as Harry had done.
"Oh thank Merlin. So I am." He said, relieved. Harry looked over, startled.
"Really?"
"I never wanted to fight with you Harry. It was my pride that got in the way of us becoming friends. When you didn't choose me, that day in Madam Malkin's, I was hurt. And everything I have said and done since then was just me trying to mend my pride. I'm sorry, Harry." Draco looked right into those fiery emerald eyes as he was speaking, and Harry could tell his apology was sincere.
"I never wanted to fight either. But considering everything else I had to deal with, I think out petty rivalry was just a way for me to release all of the anger and frustration I was feeling over the mess my had become."
"Believe it or not, I know how that feels." Draco sighed.
Harry looked over to see Draco fiddling with a loose thread on his robe, something he had been doing ever since school started again. Harry had assumed he done it when he was nervous or anxious, but couldn't work out why he would be either while talking to him.
"Are you nervous Draco?"
"Uhh.." Draco's hesitance and inability to respond was answer enough for Harry.
"Draco, what possible reason could you have to be nervous around me?"
"If only you knew," he mumbled under his breath. Harry heard, and turned his quizzical eyes to Draco, but the blonde had dropped his head, and focused on the ground.
"If only I knew what?" Harry asked. When the blonde didn't answer, Harry latched a hand around Draco's wrist, making the blonde turn surprised eyes to the boy beside him. "If only I knew what, Draco?" he asked again.
Draco looked into Harry's beautiful eyes, and all the fight left him. The walls he had spent so long building crumbled with one look into those deep emerald pools, and Draco's shoulders slumped as he let out a defeated sigh. Draco returned his eyes to the ground, but let his wrist stay securely in Harry's hand.
"If only you knew that I never hated you. In fact, it's the complete opposite. I like you Harry. A lot."
Harry's grip on Draco's wrist slacked with his surprise. Seeing the disbelieving look on the brunettes face, Draco yanked his arm out of Harry's hand and grabbed his broom, mounting it an kicking off. He was in the air and flying away before Harry had even realised what was going on. He stared at Draco, watching his figure zooming away towards the castle. Harry mounted his own broom and flew off after the blonde, the two playing an unintentional game of cat-and-mouse in and around the towers and turrets of the castle.
Harry was just about to give up, for it seemed Draco was simply flying in circles, when the blonde stopped by an open window in a small tower above the dungeons. He expertly maneuvered his broom along side the window, and sliding off onto the sill. He grabbed his broom before it fell to the ground, and pulled it inside after him.
Harry wasn't sure where Draco was headed, but was determined to follow him. They had things to talk about, after all.
The window, Harry found out minutes later, lead into an obscure corridor leading down to the dungeons. He remembered seeing it on the Marauders Map, but had never been down in himself.
Once in the corridor, Harry used a point me spell to locate Draco, and was soon following his wand as it lead him though the poorly lit maze of damp stone walls and dark, unused classrooms.
Harry was completely lost until they came to a place he certainly recognised: the entrance to the Slytherin common room. Draco was standing outside, Pansy standing beside him, talking loudly about something that Draco obviously had no interest in - the blonde stood rigid, his arms across his chest, one foot tapping impatiently and his eyes looking everywhere but at the girl in front of him. His hand was clutched so tightly around the handle of his broom his knuckles were going white.
At one point, Draco's bored gaze wandered over the the wall Harry was hidden behind, and the brunette quickly ducked behind it, casting upon himself a disillusionment charm professor Flitwick had taught them their first week back.
Once he was satisfied he was invisible, Harry cast a Muffilato charm upon himself to muffle his footsteps and moved back into the corridor, noting Pansy was still talking to a clearly uninterested Draco.
Finally, it seemed Draco had gotten tired of Pansy's dramatic ramblings, and cut her off mid-sentence.
"Pansy, stop. Look, can you please tell me at dinner. I have a headache, and I just want to go and lie down," Draco pleaded. Harry was fairly certain Draco had no headache, and it was just an excuse to get away from the incessant whining of the drama queen he was currently talking to, but Pansy didn't seem to mind.
"Sure Draco, I'll go tell Daph and Tori instead," she said, running off.
Draco sighed, running his hands through his hair, making it stick up at cute angles.
"Merlin help Daphne and Astoria," he mumbled, before and turning to the entrance and mumbling the password far to low for Harry to hear.
When the door appeared and opened, Harry hurried after Draco, not stopping to take in the familiar surroundings. The blonde went up the staircase to the left, down the corridor on the right, down a set of stairs that appeared out of nowhere, down a corridor to the left, up another flight of stairs and finally stopping at the very end of the left corridor.
It seemed Salazar wanted his students rooms to be a maze just like his dungeons.
Draco opened the door, stepping into a small, circular room with a single bed, and an en suite bathroom. It seemed more like a teachers room then a students, and Harry's curiosity convinced him to follow Draco into his room.
The blonde moved over to his double bed, which was on a small raised platform on the far side of the room. A small dressing table was on the left, and a closet to his right. Draco made his way to the closet, and opened the left door, in which, at shoulder height, was a horizontal stand for his precious Nimbus 2001.
Draco placed his broom in the stand and closed the door, the proceeded to rip of his jumper and tie, and unbuttoning his shirt until it half of his perfectly sculpted chest was visible. He the pushed the arms of his shirt up to his elbows, revealing the toned muscles in his arms.
Harry sucked in a surprised breath and gulped loudly. He was, in that moment, extremely grateful for the spell concealing any noise he made. God, Draco looked amazing like this; his hair was still wildly tussled in an adorable but dead sexy way, the muscles is his arms flexed when he moved, and his chest screamed for attention with every breath Draco took. Harry almost swallowed his tongue when Draco flopped down onto the bed, the causal pose looking anything but to Harry.
Licking his dry lips, Harry realised he was just standing at the door to Draco's room. He steeled his nerves before removing first the Muffliato charm, then the Disillusionment charm.
Harry's whispered counter-spell alerted Draco to Harry's presence, and with lightning-quick reflexes, Draco pulled his wand from the holster on his waist and had his wand between Harry's eyes by the time he revealed himself.
The shock of seeing Harry in his room caused Draco to drop his wand slightly, leaving Harry room to cast a non-verbal Protego. Slowly, Harry turned his back on the blonde, resting his broom against the wall near the door. A flick of his wand had it hovering an inch off the ground, so as not to damage it.
"Please don't attack me Draco. I just want to talk." Harry said as he turned to face his childhood enemy. Putting his wand in the pocket of his robe, Harry held his hands up in a manner that suggested defeat. Draco looked at him for a second, unsure how to react.
"Then take down the shield."
"Only if your promise not to curse me."
Draco laughed, an actual, genuine laugh. He then turned and walked over to the bed, sitting down and patting the spot next to it in a very un-Draco-like way.
"I thought we were past the petty cursing?" He asked with a mocking smile. As suddenly as his mood had shifted before, it changed again, this time to serious. "I won't curse you Harry. I promise. As long as you promise not to curse me."
"I promise I won't." Harry replied, and finally dropped his Protego - wandlessly.
Draco was startled, but took it all in stride as Harry moved to sit on the bed next to him. There was a foot of space between the two, which the two boys had different views on.
For Draco, it wasn't close enough; he wanted Harry close to him while he had the chance. For Harry, however, the space was too small for his liking, Draco already beginning to make the brunette question things about himself, and the look in the blondes eyes was slightly unnerving.
"I'll forget for now you just did wandless magic, and instead ask you this: what, in Merlin's name, were you thinking, following me?" Draco's voice held no malice, simply curiosity, and Harry answered his question honestly.
"Because, like I said, I wanted to talk to you. I have some things I want to ask you."
"Like what?" Draco asked without any hint of hesitation. It seemed that, for now, Draco was happy to play along.
"Like, how long have you liked me for? And why do like me?" The last question came out disbelieving, as if Harry couldn't understand why Draco liked him. And, if Harry was being honest with himself, he couldn't.
Ginny's 'love' for him, Harry was sure, stemmed from her childhood obsession. His fame was what drew her to him in the first place, and that was one thing Harry always hated about their relationship: Ginny never took time to see past the fame and actually get to know Harry in the way he wished she would.
"I realised I liked you in fourth year, after the Tri-Wizard tournament. As for how… I'm not sure." Draco looked down at the ground, and continued. "It could be the way you pursue everything you want with that reckless, yet somehow admirable, Gryffindor courage. Or your obvious loyalty to those important in your life. Maybe your dedication to doing what you feel is right. The way you put others needs before your own. But none of that compares to how beautiful you are Harry." The last sentence was barely a whisper, but in the silence of Draco's room, Harry heard it.
Disbelieving, and stunned into silence, Harry sat there, processing all of what Draco had just said. Then, after a few minutes; "You think I'm beautiful?"
Draco lifted his eyes off the ground to meet Harry's. His bright emerald eyes were deep pools of emotion, showing Draco everything Harry was feeling: stunned, confused, flattered, unsure, and curious.
"I don't think you're beautiful Harry, I know you're beautiful. Even if you can't see it." Harry blushed the deepest shade of scarlet, and averted his eyes to rest on his shoes.
"How can you think that?" Harry asked quietly. Draco grasped Harry's chin gently, and moved so the brunette was looking him in the eye.
"Because you are Harry!" Draco's voice was filled was so much emotion it was hard not to believe him.
"You are too, you know," he said, making Draco blush as well.
"I'm really not."
"Let's just agree to believe each other, ok?" Harry compromised with a smile. Draco nodded, but doubts still filled his mind. Was Harry lying?
Little Draco know, Harry was having the same doubts, his insecurities not allowing him to believe that anyone could see him as beautiful. All he saw in himself was a scrawny kid with messy hair and glasses. Nothing special at all.
"Ok. Only if you let me take you to lunch next Hogsmead weekend."
Harry's eyes widened as he turned to Draco, and, realising the blonde was serious, let out a manic laugh.
"Are you actually serious Draco?"
"Of course I am Harry," Draco replied, sounding a tad annoyed.
"Do you have any idea how much shit the both of us will get? Your reputation will be ruined, and my friends will probably never speak to me again!" Harry exclaimed.
"So, you don't want to?" Draco asked, his voice laced with hurt.
"You don't care about your reputation?" Harry asked, surprised the blonde hadn't even mentioned it.
"Not when I could have you." He replied without hesitation.
Harry blushed again, and, throwing all caution into the wind, smiled at Draco.
"So, where are you taking me?" Draco, who was looking straight into Harry's eyes, cracked a smile. He failed to contain it, and the genuine happiness in his eyes made Harry realise he had never seen Draco truly smile.
"You'll really go to Hogsmead with me?" Draco asked, his voice filled with more hope then Harry had ever heard.
"Sure." Harry smile back. Seeing the usually downcast blonde so happy, Harry couldn't bear to deny him one lunch. Besides, Harry couldn't lie to himself. He was intrigued. He found himself wanting to spend more time with Draco, despite all the things the blonde was making him question about himself.
Draco's smiled widened even more, and, out of impulse, his hand reached over, long, pale, slender fingers wrapping themselves around Harry's wrist.
Harry warring emotions made him freeze, not sure what to think of Draco's actions.
The smile slipped from the blondes face, and he yanked his hand back as quickly, turning his back to Harry.
"Forget about it. Just leave." He spat out, his mood changing abruptly once again.
"Draco.." Harry began, but the blonde jumped up and headed to the window. He stood there, looking out at the grounds below, back rigid, knuckles balled into fight fists at his side. Harry sighed, a mixture of relief, disappointment and regret. "I'm sorry Draco. I'm just not sure what to feel right now."
A few whispered spells, the creak of his bedroom door, and Harry was gone.
Draco turned, pushing his back against the cold stone wall next to the window, and sank to the ground.
From outside Draco's door, Harry heard the blonde berate himself for ever letting Harry know his feelings, and felt a pang of guilt settle in his chest.
Clearing his head, Harry tried to remember his way back to the Slytherin common room, and realised, with a jolt of panic, that he couldn't. The only easy way Harry could see out of this was to fly out of Draco's window.
There mere thought of going back into Draco's room and asking him for a way out made Harry, even with all of his Gryffindor courage, nervous, and more then a little afraid.
Harry pressed his back to Draco's bedroom door, and let his head hit the polished wood.
Looking up and down both sides of the corridor, Harry noticed that there was only half a dozen rooms along a straight hall, with a set of steps to the left, almost completely hidden.
Deciding to take a risk, Harry headed towards the spiralling staircase, and made his way noiselessly up the stone steps, eventually reaching a small, oak door. Trying the handle, Harry was disappointed to find it locked.
Pressing his ear to the door, he listened, and hearing nothing, tapped the lock, which sprang open silently.
Thanking Hermione for helping him learn non-verbal spells over the holidays, Harry pulled open the doors just enough to peek through it.
As Harry's eyes roamed the empty, hidden, circular turret, he pulled the door open fully, and stepped out. The turret seemed to be half the height of the castle. It was tucked away between two of the Slytherin towers, and Harry, having not flown close to this side of the castle, hasn't even known of it's existence.
Three quarters of the small room was the usual stone, with chairs jutting out from the walls, and a long bench curving around to fit them. The other quarter of the room was rest was floor to ceiling windows, long rectangles of glass, framed by polished oak. In a show of muggle design, each window had a set of hinges and the middle two had a handle, allowing them to be slid open to either side. Harry closed the door behind him, and moved towards the window, thanking his luck.
Opening them fully, the crisp October air hit him in the face, the wind having picked up while he was in Draco's room. Harry mounted his broom, and hovered just outside the windows, looking back into the turret, and then around him, memorising it's location. Harry leaned over to close the windows behind him, then took off, twisting and turning between the Hogwarts towers, trying to find a release for the emotions currently clouding his mind and senses. By the time Harry got to the window outside his dorm room, it had been over an hour and his thoughts were still as jumbled as ever.
In one swift, practiced move, Harry pulled up next to his window, slid on his broom onto the window sill, and pulled himself and his broom inside.
With a flick of his wand, the Firebolt flew over to the open trunk at the end of his bed, and then lid closed itself once the broom was safely inside. Harry collapsed onto his bed, drawing the curtains shut around him.
It was barely 5pm, but Harry was exhausted, both mentally and physically.
He knew he'd have to face Draco in the Great Hall for tea, if he decided to come down, or if not, then classes the next day. He couldn't avoid the blonde forever.
After a time thinking about it, Harry realised he didn't want to.
Sitting up, he threw back the curtains, and pulled a piece of parchment and a quill from his draw. Summoning his ink pot, which was still in his bag tossed lazily on the floor, Harry scratched out a letter to Draco.

'Im still not sure what to think about what happened today, and I'm sorry for hurting you. Let me make it up to you. Next Hogsmead weekend, my treat. We can go anywhere you want.'

Harry left the letter unsigned - Draco would know who it was from.
Pocketing the letter, Harry made his was down to the common room, where Ron and Hermione where curled up in front of the fire. Apparently Ron had convinced her to take a break from studying.
"Harry, mate. Where have you been?" Ron called out as Harry stepped off the staircase. Harry looked over, as Hermione sat up, interested.
"Flying. I told you I was headed to the pitch." Harry replied, making his way to the portrait hole.
"Harry, that was over four hours ago!" Hermione called out, but Harry didn't answer her. He was already out the portrait hole and headed down to the Great Hall. Dinner was still half an hour away, but Harry didn't want to deal with his friends questions.
In all honesty, he didn't know if he could answer. His thoughts were a mess. All he could think about was if he was doing the right thing by agreeing to go to Hogsmead with Draco, what his friends would think, and if being close to him again would make him everything he was feeling in the Slytherin's bedroom.
Making his way to the almost empty Gryffindor table, Harry say down at his usual spot, and as soon as he say down his eyes immediately strayed over to the Slytherin table. To his surprise, Draco was sitting at the far end of the Slytherin table, head down on folded arms. It looked like he was shaking.
A wave of guilt rushed over Harry, and he pulled the note out of his pocket. Folding the note up, he levitated it, and, looking around to make sure no one was watching, sent it flying over to Draco, who looked up when it hit the table in front of him. Harry watched as he picked up the note, anticipation curling in his stomach as Draco's eyes flicked over the short letter. Once he was done, he looked up, straight at Harry. A small smile was playing at the corner of his lips, but the brunette could tell he was trying to suppress it.
Draco reached down beside him, and pulled his bag up off the floor, reached inside, and pulled out a quill. an ink pot, and a fresh piece of parchment.
Quickly scrawling a letter back, he folded it up and sent it flying towards Harry, without even looking up. He put everything back in his back, including Harry's note to him.
Harry caught Draco's letter as it dropped into the Gryffindor table, and opened it. His face fell as his eyes scanned the words written in Draco's perfect handwriting.

'I don't think that's a good idea.
Figure out what you want. And don't come to me again until you do.'

When Harry looked up, Draco was gone.