Warnings: Mentions of rape, mentions of violence, side character death (Crabbe), boyxboy love, and more than likely swearing and sexual situations in future chapters.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even the keyboard this was typed up on.

Mamihlapinatapai (n., Feugan);

A look shared between two people, each wanting something, each hoping the other will initiate it, neither wanting to initiate it themselves.

The night was silent, darkness heavy within the halls of the stone walled castle. Footsteps were soft against the hard stone ground, though no form, no outlined silhouette in the lightless halls could be seen. Hogwarts had always been a magical place, for those gifted enough to see it, a magical aura hummed around the old building constantly, providing a warming and safe feeling for the students within. During the day light hours the castle was always full of bustle, excitement and life. Though during the night hours the halls were completely different. Each darkened corner seemed to whisper a thousand secrets, the stone of the walls having seen millions of sights. Break up's, get together's, friendship's, pain, joy, heartache and love.

To some students, and even the few selective adults, the ill-lightened slightly cool Hogwarts corridors could be quite daunting. But to Harry Potter the halls were a place to escape. Somewhere where he could be himself, where he knew the closemouthed stone would never tattle on him to Dumbledore, never sell his story to The Daily Prophet.

Yes, even though the castle would never betray his silent trust in it there were people who swept the halls throughout the sunless hours to find students like himself out of bed after hours. Wary of this, Harry nearly always had his Invisibility Cloak with him during his nightly explorations. Having Snape or Filch find him out after hours would do no good for the raven-haired teen. Continuing his walk through the castle halls, a soft sigh escaped thin cherry colored lips. The reason for the Gryffindor being out of bed so late was the same every night.

He felt utterly alone and it scared him.

Yes, he had Hermione and Ron, two friends he was grateful to have made and even more grateful to have been able to keep through their six years at Hogwarts together. But with the end of first term coming to an end, the war was weighing heavily on his shoulder's and it pained him that he couldn't talk to his friend's about it. Harry knew that he trusted Ron and Hermione, but there were some things the two just had no clue about really. They didn't know what Voldemort could -do.- Hadn't ever seen the things some people had been put through. Thing's Harry saw in his dreams that caused him to wake in the midst of the night in a cold sweat, ridden in guilt about more lives that he hadn't been able to protect.

Deftly turning a corner, the jade eyed Gryffindor was stopped in his tracks as a quiet sob reached his ears. The sound caused an empty feeling in his stomach and a cold tingle to spread over his flesh, starting from his scalp and spreading down to the sole's of his sneakers. Maybe, just maybe if he could help another person for the moment, it would help ease a bit of the guilt he had woken earlier that night with and he could get a few hours of sleep before classes started that morning. Letting out a slow breath he followed the quiet noise, steeling himself for whatever he would find. But no amount of readying could prepare him for what he found.

Pressed impossibly close against the stone of the wall was a small, robe clothed form that seemed to be trying to close in on itself. Silvery blonde hair was tousled out of it's normally perfect styling, knees drawn up close against the form's chest. Forearms were crossed along the slim knees, and even though the face was buried within the crossed arms, Harry could tell instantly who it was. It was impossible to miss the platinum locks anywhere, the pale skin that was visible at the places where the school robes were ripped.

Wait... ripped? Not removing his Invisibility Cloak for the moment, Harry took a few careful steps forward to study Malfoy more closely. He had been right. The boy's school robes were ripped in certain areas, and with even closer inspection he noticed finger shaped bruises along the pale neck, dark red spots littering the sharp collarbone. By now the Gryffindor had seized breathing, emerald orbs widening slightly. Merlin. What had happened to Malfoy, to cause such an out come? It certainly couldn't have been a fight with another student, Harry knew that much by first hand experience. Malfoy was certainly much too skilled in violence, wether it be hexing or fist fighting (he had found that out during a nasty fight in fourth year) to be roughed up so badly by a fellow student. So then, what had happened?

Harry nearly let out a yelp as the pale boy's head tipped back, as Draco rested the back of his head against the cool stone wall his back was pressed against. Now being able to see his face, he could see that there were dark circles under the blood shot silver eyes, pale cheeks were flushed slightly from crying, and his lips seemed to be much redder, puffier, than normal. The sight sent an unpleasant shift in his stomach, and Harry turned his gaze away for a moment, trying to catch a hold of himself.

This was Malfoy. The same git that had tortured him for years over years in Hogwarts, personally tried to make his stay at the school as horrible as possible, at times making him wish he was still with the Dursley's. He didn't deserve pity or help. But the stronger part of his mind was telling him that since the beginning of fifth year, Draco had barely spoken to him, taking to ignoring him. No more pushing his books to the ground, bloody noses, or black eyes. The only time the blonde Slytherin would speak to him would be during Potions when they were partnered together. Even then, he wouldn't put up a fuss over being paired with Harry, would simply work in silence aside from the few instructions to hand him an ingredient

As the stronger part of his mind won over, Harry's gaze turned back to the boy, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. He had to help, he knew that now. He couldn't just leave Drac- Malfoy here alone. It'd be a horrible thing to do. Noticing that Malfoy had buried his face into his arms once again, Harry used the opportunity to slip out from under his cloak, folding it and resting it over his forearm. Taking a slow breath, he spoke.

"Malfoy?" The name was soft, careful even. Harry knew that with their given past, he simply couldn't play the hero for the other male. He would have to be given permission to play the hero, to make sure he wasn't pushed away by Draco.

Harry watched in silence as the male in front of him rose his head, expression still the same along pale features.

Draco simply eyed him for a moment, curious as to if he had fallen asleep and this was all some sick dream. Any moment now, Blaise would be shaking him awake, and he'd be safe and sound in his four-poster bed in the Slytherin dorms. Then the silver orbs narrowed, slight crease forming between blonde eyebrows at the action. "Potter." It was much more than a word. It was an attentive bridge between the two. Draco hadn't pushed the raven-haired male away, hadn't insulted him. But he also hadn't welcomed him to sit down for a chat and tea either. It was an invitation, and a question all in one. An invitation to explain why he had stopped, why he hadn't continued walking. A question as to exactly why he was out so late after curfew. Funny how so much could be said with such a simple word.

The night had been hectic on the blonde, he knew that much. The Malfoy heir was a horrible mix between tired, sore, angered with the bitter taste of betrayal still fresh on his tongue. He felt weak, in more than just a physical sense. Early on in fifth year, Draco's entire sense of life had been destroyed, had completely crumbled before his eyes. He had found out the truth about what he was becoming, who he was supposed to be later on in life. What his Father stood for, and what exactly the Dark Lord did to punish followers that tended to stray from him. In the dungeons beneath the Malfoy Manor in the middle of the night, Draco had watched Crabbe and his family be tortured and then killed before him.

He had stood silently with Lucuis' arm over his shoulder, the twisted grin along the older blonde's features. "See, son. That's how it's done. This is what you get the privilege of becoming." Draco could still hear the quiet whisper of his Father's voice, still see the way Crabbe had looked at him before it was decided by someone else that his life was no longer worth living. Nightmares still haunted the youngest Malfoy, following him into Hogwarts. Knowing that by the end of his sixth year at Hogwarts that he would become marked, tainted. His flesh would be destroyed by the Dark Mark, marring him and giving Voldemort owner ship over him. It made him sick, and it made him feel horribly disgusting. He had learned that night that all the time spent in Hogwarts, using people and torturing people, being so proud of his Father had all been a sham. Had been for nothing.

He didn't want to be a Death Eater, and he didn't want to take his Father's place when Lucuis passed away. He didn't want to be a pawn in the war, to simply be discarded when his time was up. The only person that had been able to understand everything up until then had been his Godfather, Snape.

Nights were spent in the Potions classroom, simply talking. Draco had found someone to understand, someone who knew what he was going through. That was, until Snape had revealed his loyalties to the blonde, had taught him never to defile the Dark Lord. Just the thought brought back the taste of bile, of disgust. Brought back the tears. Though he quickly swallowed the thick lump in his throat, remembering that the precious Golden Boy was standing not an arm's width away from him. Keeping his eyes on the Gryffindor, he watched as Potter knelt before him, offering a hand outward, with a barely there smile. The words were soft, quiet, and Draco was almost sure he had imagined them.

"I want to help you."

A/N: Yes, yes, another fic. But this one isn't a one shot! I was actually in the mood to write near five in the morning, so this happened. This is just a short first chapter so you can get a feel of the fic, a few facts and such on where the two main characters stand and what's going on with them. They're both in sixth year, and in this fic Half Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows are completely forgotten. Because, I'm the authoress and I say so. And this fic isn't betaed so far, just by myself and spell check. Feel free to point out any mistakes in reveiws. Oh, and yes, Snape's the bad guy. Because I needed one, and he fit. So there.