A few days after the second time I comforted Potter, the Griffindor seemed to be back to his old self. He was smiling, he was joking, he was eating.

Not that I cared, of course. A Malfoy, at his very nicest moments, should be indifferent to the ways of a Potter.

But I couldn't help sneaking a glance his way every once in a while, or wondering if he was alright, and once I even woke up from a dream where I was drowning in Avada Kedavra green eyes.

I would see him around, and I would sneer, and he would glare, and Granger and Weasley would argue with Crabbe and Goyle, but it just wasn't the same. It wasn't like it was forced, because it wasn't. I still hated his stupid lion morals and he hated my brilliant serpent cunning, but our fights had always seemed harsher compared to lately.

In the few days after our moments, they seemed softer, gentler, less chaotic, as if we acknowledged that we could no longer be mortal enemies after what I had done.

Because it was my fault, of course. I had took him into my embrace. I had held him while he cried. I had sought him out when he ran away from his friends. And now he was better and he didn't need me anymore.

Or so I believed.

A week after the few days, or some time after the first encounter, I overheard a conversation in the Headmaster's office.

I was looking to ask about extra credit, you see. Malfoys always get top marks and I needed a bit of help in Ancient Runes. But when I let the stairs carry me up, I heard voices.

"But Moony? He's alright, isn't he?"

"Yes, my boy. Professer Lupin is quite healthy. But I'm afraid I cannot say the same for your relatives."

"The Dursleys? HE KILLED THE DURSLEYS?"

"Harry, calm down! Dear boy, you must listen-"

There was a large crash. I winced. Another crash, a thud, a crack.

"That vile, monstrous, villainous, evil, bastard! They did nothing. NOTHING! They even hated magic. He had NO REASON to go after them."

Dumbledore tried to stop Harry, at least, it sounded like Harry, from destroying the room, but the boy just stormed out of his office. He noticed me as he passed by, and I saw more tears in his eyes.

I left, after watching Dumbledore stroke Fawkes and murmur, "My my, that poor boy."

Back in my dorm, I marveled at the silence. The boys were all down in the girls' dorms. Even Crabbe and Goyle.

I heard a rustling by the window. I sat up and looked around. Nothing.

I lay back again, closing my eyes.

"Malfoy?" A small, pathetic voice asked. I opened one eye, and almost gasped.

Potter was here. Potter was in my dorm, with his ruddy glasses and shining eyes… and his tear stained face.

Wordlessly, I opened my arms. He crawled up on the bed and buried his face in my chest, stifling sobs into my shirt. I kissed the top of his head.

"Shhh, it's okay. The Dursleys are okay. They're in a better place." I whispered. I assumed that's what this was about.

He nodded. "It's all my fault. If they hadn't taken me in, he wouldn't have gone after them."

I gently pulled his shoulders up and made him look at me. "I am going to tell you something, and you must promise to listen to me.". He nodded.

"I promise."

I looked him in the eye. "It is not your fault. It's not your fault they died, just like it's not your fault that all of this landed on you. You just gotta pull through and survive, and you gotta kill that bloody bastard for all of us. Believe me, every one of us wants to be the one to pound him into the ground ourselves, but you were chosen and so you have to do it."

He tried to pull away, but I kept him there. "Do it for Dumbledore. Do it for the Dursleys. Do it for Weasley, Granger, Diggory, Lovegood, and everyone else out there counting on you."

He was staring at me now, entranced. I closed my eyes, leaning my forehead against his. "Do it for me."

"I will." I heard in my ear. "I'll do it for you."

He kissed my cheek, then he was gone, disappeared like the mist you breathe when it's cold outside.