Original story and plot/disclaimer: J. K. Rowling, I own nothing
Pairing: DracoxHarry (Drarry)
Fanfic name: "Voice"
Rating: M (for possible sexual themes in later chapters)
Summary: A new year's started at Hogwarts and Harry starts off his year with a lot of strange encounters that leaves him a bit… frustrated. And what is Draco doing in the meantime?

A sigh left slightly parted lips and green eyes searched the area around the station, at platform 9 3/4. For a moment he thought he could spot the heads of his best friends, Hermione and Ron. Yes, he was Harry Potter, the Golden Boy, the Boy-Who-Lived, and now he was kind of lost and searching for his friends on the platform.
He didn't really find what he was searching for, and at some point he must have been spacing because someone bumped into him. Or maybe he bumped into them, he couldn't really tell. Green eyes met cold silver and he sighed inwardly. Great. The last thing he needed was to bloody encounter Malfoy of all people at a time like this.
"Pay more attention, Potter. You almost bloody knocked me over."
Even if he hissed out the words and practically spat out the word "Potter" the Slytherin's voice was somehow not the same. Before Harry could send a matching phrase back at the blonde he was gone in the crowd. Nothing seemed right; Malfoy usually didn't back down from a fight, probably the exact opposite. The Slytherin Prince seemed to enjoy fights quite much. With another sigh, Harry turned on his heels and got into the train after putting away his luggage. Once inside he was practically ran over by a worried Hermione.
"Harry! Where did you run off to? We went to buy our school books and then you were gone! Are you okay?"
"Wow, wow, Hermione. Look here, I'm fine. I'm fine." he laughed and got himself pulled away from her, giving the Ron that had just shown up behind her a nod and a "hey" before they headed for one of the empty compartments in the train. Luckily they found one in the back and sat down heavily on the seats. Harry and Ron sat beside each other, and Hermione sat across of them. Harry left his friends to talking and just looked out the window. Again he felt his thoughts wander back to one certain blonde. What had been up with him? Why hadn't he stayed for a fight? And why hadn't his words sounded as harsh as they usually would? He had seemed so different on Harry; not even any of his friends had been crowding around him like they usually did. It was strange seeing him like that, and without even arguing with Harry. The thoughts ended up taking over his mind for the rest of the train ride and Hermione had to almost drag him out of the compartment and hand him his trunk before he actually realized he was supposed to use his legs to walk with. The second he looked up, his eyes met with Malfoy's again. The blonde sent him a look that didn't even remotely look like hatred, and they stared at one another for a moment before Malfoy disappeared between the students searching for their luggage and classmates. After they'd put off their luggage in the entrance hall they were once again in the Great Hall for dinner. Everything was arranged nicely on plates and Harry couldn't help but sigh happily. He was finally back at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Across the room sat all the Slytherins, and oddly, Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. He hadn't been one to skip meals in the past so all Harry could do was wonder where the bloody git had decided to spend his dinnertime. After a meal where he hadn't really paid much attention to what he had been stuffing in his mouth, he skipped to his common room in the Gryffindor Tower. Hermione just wouldn't give up on asking him why he was acting so spaced out and lost in his own mind, and Harry got enough of it and stepped out of the common room with a simple comment that he was going to the library. Though he didn't go to the library at all; his feet dragged him upstairs until he found himself at the entrance to the Astronomy Tower. He took out The Marauder's Map and whispered the words "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good" watching as the map appeared on the piece of parchment. He took a glance at the Astronomy Tower on the map, and inside moved a little dot with the name "Draco Malfoy" written above it. At this, Harry's eyes widened and he wondered what Malfoy could be doing in the Astronomy Tower of all places on this time of the day. Harry felt a sudden urge to just climb up there, to see what he could be doing, but something deep inside him held him nailed to the spot. He whispered "mischief managed", put the map in his robes and slowly went back to the common room, moving directly up to take a shower and go to bed before anyone could manage to ask him why he was acting so odd.

The next morning, Harry almost couldn't get himself up, but when he finally managed, he saw the letter resting at the foot of his bed. With a confused blink he picked it up after looking at the clock. It was 4:50 AM. Who sent letters that early? It was sealed with a heart-looking shape and with golden edges on the envelope. It was the first time Harry had ever received a letter that looked like that. He used a few moments to just stare at the pretty envelope, before he opened it up and dug out the piece of paper hidden inside. There wasn't anything written, just a red rose painted on the piece of parchment; it looked so real that Harry could practically feel the beautiful flower's petals and thorns in his fingertips. Flipping it around, he didn't see something at first, but after a little moment the words started to form on the paper, one after one. He read out loud inside his head:

We all have our beautiful petals, as well as we have our sometimes intoxicating smells… and of course, our thorns. Some people's thorns stings worse than other's do…
I can feel yours piercing deep inside what I prefer to call a "heart" though I know it's just a block of ice in my chest. You make it wretch and crack and in the end, melt into something warm giving me feelings I've never experienced before.

The letter wasn't signed and didn't say anything more. With a shrug, Harry put it into his bed drawer and went to get a shower before the rest of the Gryffindor Tower woke up.
After the shower he was out of the Tower as quick as he could, wearing his invisibility cloak and carrying the Marauder's Map inside of his robes. After a quick glance to the map, he saw that the halls were empty and decided to walk to the just as empty Astronomy Tower. For a while, he just sat in there and stared out into the air, before he decided to once again pull out the map as he carefully grabbed his cloak. What if someone was on their way to the Tower and he hadn't been paying attention? For a while, nothing of interest showed up on the map, until he saw it, again. Draco Malfoy was on his way down one of the many hallways, directly headed towards Harry's position. Harry sincerely didn't want to confront Malfoy after what had happened before and after the train ride to Hogwarts, so he slid into the cloak and hid in the corner of the room where he could sit comfortably without being noticed; he couldn't make it out before Draco walked in. A few seconds later, he heard steps and saw the blonde stepping inside. His hair wasn't as neatly styled as usual, and blonde locks were hanging in his face, his eyes holding an intense feeling of distress. In his left hand was something that looked to be made out of glass, and he crushed it into the floor so it broke into pieces. With a sigh that didn't sound anything like his usual self, he used a spell to clean up the mess before dropping to his knees. Harry's eyes widened hearing soft sobs coming from the blonde. A very sudden and very unwelcome feeling of protection overwhelmed Harry and he really had to put bonds on himself to not walk up and try and comfort the Slytherin Prince. For what seemed like an eternity, he just watched the blonde boy sit there and sob softly into his palms. Harry had never seen Malfoy upset before, so even with the nagging feeling of wanting to comfort the boy he was just too shocked to move. Not even something Harry had said made the boy react this way, no matter what Harry called him, no matter what hex Harry threw in his face, and no matter how hard Harry punched him, the Slytherin had never reacted this way. After the tears had stilled off, he slowly got up from his position. He stood on wobbling legs for a few seconds before he quickly ran away from the Astronomy Tower, leaving Harry even more confused. Carefully, he looked at the map and saw Malfoy running all the way down to the dungeons, and of course that there was no one else near his position meaning he could get back as well. It was getting around 6:00 AM already and if Hermione caught him sneaking around at odd times she'd throw a tantrum, and that was the bloody last thing Harry wanted to happen.
"What's going on with you, Malfoy…?"
The words was more said to himself as he quickly headed back and put the map and cloak beneath his bed, lying on his stomach on the bed to read through the letter again. The handwriting seemed familiar but in a way it didn't either; it was an annoying feeling and he sighed before putting it away again. It was probably just one of his many admires that he didn't even want to bother with, so why did this one bug him so much? His frustration was building and it was all because of things that shouldn't be his business at all. He ran a hand through his messy raven locks and adjusted his glasses, once stroking the scar on his forehead. All his life was filled with was frustration and sadness. He'd even rejected Ginny. She was so kind to him, nice and fiery, energetic and not to mention probably in love with him, but he just couldn't see her as more than a sister. He was almost disgusted by the thought of being with her as a couple, having children, kissing and… ugh. No. Not Ginny. He couldn't do such a thing with her. Oddly enough, these thoughts seemed to lead him to think about Malfoy. Not the Malfoy that had teased and bullied him the past years, no, not him. No, he thought of the Malfoy who had been sitting there all alone, crying and sobbing with his face buried in his hands after smashing something into the floor. That was the Malfoy, which Harry thought of at this point. It was a different Malfoy; he'd never, in the past years, not even once, seen the blonde cry. And he'd seen Draco a lot, and in a lot of different situations; the blonde didn't seem like the crybaby type, not to mention he was pure evil. And then he suddenly saw the Slytherin weeping on the floor in the Astronomy Tower? It frankly didn't make any bloody sense to Harry. He sighed and just as his thoughts were coming back up from the lake of confusion and frustration back into reality, he heard a tap on his door. After last year, he'd gotten his own room, with bathroom and a nice, big bed where he wouldn't have to listen to roommates snoring, and waking up in a room with four other people. It was a nice privacy and he appreciated it. He opened the door and saw a sleepy Ron cast a confused gaze at his dressed form.
"You already up Harry?" he mumbled as he looked Harry up and down. He had forgotten to change out of the clothes when he came back; but school was starting soon anyways, so there was no need to change into his sleeping robes and then back to his normal clothes once he woke up. He just sighed and nodded.
"Yeah… had some trouble sleeping and took an early shower." he just muttered in response and leaned against the doorframe, trying to make it appear as if he was sleepy. He really wasn't the least sleepy, but the frustration made his body feel heavy. Ron seemed to be satisfied with the answer and just walked yawning back into his own room to take a shower. Harry closed the door and realized that he actually didn't have any classes; they had, oddly enough, started school on a Friday, meaning they would have a weekend off before actually starting on their classes. A whole weekend and he had nothing to do with it. He decided to lie back down in bed and felt himself slowly drift off to sleep. This didn't last long and he woke up about half an hour later, not wanting to get up but knowing it would probably be a good idea. Instead, he decided on just sitting up and fumbling after his glasses; they must had fallen off while he had been taking the short nap. It was hidden beneath his blanket, and he quickly pulled them on and looked around his room. Gold and red wallpapers, bed sheets and walls decorated the whole room, along with the Gryffindor lion on any possible surface; on the floor carpet, the window curtains, and on the bed sheets. It was everywhere and he started to think about if Malfoy's room looked similar, just with a Slytherin theme instead of Gryffindor. The thoughts of said bedroom though, it was starting to change into something that he did not want and he threw his head into the pillow with a thud. He was not going to think about that. And he was definitely not thinking about it when it was Malfoy, of all bloody people on the planet. He was pretty sure that he hated, okay maybe not hated, but at least, disliked the blonde. He had had a while to think during the time he had been at the Dursley's house, and he had pondered over his past. What if he hadn't met Ron? Would he then still have rejected Malfoy's friendship and become a Slytherin and not a Gryffindor? The question had been bothering him, and actually was now just adding to the mixed feelings he was having about Malfoy's current behavior and actions. Couldn't they just be at each other's throats like the good, old days? Then nothing would be as complicated, as confusing; and he wouldn't actually worry about Malfoy of all people. He was starting to get sincerely worried over the thing he had experienced previously that morning. If something could make Draco Malfoy, of all people on the bloody earth, cry, then there had to be something going on somewhere in his life; and it was something bad.
Just as he thought he was going mad from all this, the insistent tap of an owl on his window made him get up from the bed and to the window, where the owl was impatiently waiting. It looked like one of the school's owls, so he wouldn't be able to recognize the sender just by the owl; he had at least thought he could do as much. He unwrapped the letter from its leg and let it fly out of the window again, closing it as he went to his bed with the letter in his hand. It was of the same sort as the previous, with his name written on it in beautiful letters. The moments passed as he pondered whether he should open it or not. His mind told him no, but his heart said yes, and in the end his brain gave up as well. He opened the envelope and out fell around 10 small pieces of paper. He looked at them one after one. They contained parts of sentences and for a little, he tried putting them together. After a while that was given up on, and he took out the letter that was left in the envelope.

Dear Harry,
I feel like… like you're the only one here I can trust. Everyone around me bears false faces and when I turn around and look back, nothing's as it seemed before. Except you. You're always there and so utterly and perfectly just Harry. The Harry that I've fallen in love with.
Sometimes I wonder… if I could ever be with you, and be happy with you… though that will never happen.
But we all need our dreams… and our Hero.

He checked several times to see if it said more, maybe hidden messages or something of the sort. He still couldn't determine whose the handwriting was, but he wanted, and almost needed to know who was sending him these mysterious letters. There was no one he could really exclude, of course anyone who is naturally nice and never sends them a second thought. He was definitely searching for someone in trouble, and perhaps a person who had trouble with themselves or was ashamed of something. With that information he could wipe out a couple of names, but who knows? Someone can have trouble and try to hide it. He sighed and put the scraps of paper, the letter and the envelope together with the other letter in the drawer beside his bed. This was really getting on his nerves; he had to think about something else, but they didn't have any schoolwork, and he didn't want to be with Ron and Hermione. He knew he was just going to snap and hiss at them anyway and he didn't want to let his anger be their problem. For a little, he considered taking another bath but thought against it and instead went down to the Great Hall to get some breakfast. At this time, there weren't many students, but one was there and caught Harry's attention: Malfoy. The blonde was picking at his food, not looking exactly happy even if Harry knew that he was eating his favorite. How Harry knew that, he had no idea. Grey, stormy eyes met sparkly green as they looked at each other from across the room. For a moment, he felt those eyes piercing his whole being before Malfoy looked down on his food again. Was that a blush Harry had seen on his cheeks? Nah, it must have been his imagination or maybe the light playing tricks on him. A Malfoy, and especially Draco Malfoy, did not blush. It simply couldn't happen. He ate the food in otherwise complete silence as the seconds ticked by, before simply excusing himself under the cover of having a headache, leaving directly to his room. Now he was even more worried; what if Malfoy had actually been aware that Harry had been watching him cry? It wasn't like he intended to do it, but it did happen. Back at his room, there was nothing but himself in the room with all the wall carpets in red and gold. It was driving him mad, thinking about Malfoy all the time. Just the fact that he existed was picking at his nerves already; why did stupid, trivial things have to get him all worked up over absolutely nothing? The brunette let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and went to his own personal bathroom. Looking back at him from the mirror was a ghost of what he used to look like; his eyes were tired, and his hair being even more of a mess than usual. He looked at his reflection for a few moments before he grabbed his jacket and broom. Maybe some flying would get him to forget, forget about those feelings that he didn't want to think about. He would forget about Ron, Hermione and Malfoy and for once just be him. Him alone, and no one else there. He sighed and went out of the Gryffindor Tower, and at last out of the Hogwarts castle, over the grounds until he reached the Quidditch pitch. Without a second thought, he got onto his broom and into the air before he could count to three. The cold, biting September air felt wonderful against his heated skin, and he whipped around in the air for what seemed like eternity. The wind were blowing in his hair, reddening his otherwise pale cheeks. It felt wonderful being in the air; Harry had always felt as if the mere fact he was in the wind washed away his existence and he became one with the blows of air all around him, the sound of it echoing in his freezing ears. He could calm for a little while before he got down onto the ground again, almost face to face with no one else than Malfoy. Of all bloody people… Harry looked at the surprisingly silent blonde as he stood there on the grass, his robes and hair moving with the harsh wind as he just looked at Harry. And that was all he really did. He just stood there, in the middle of the pitch, and stared at Harry. He didn't say a word; he didn't make a move. He was just there, and he would probably go away if Harry just ignored him. But even if he didn't leave Harry had really lost all of his will for flying any longer. He just sighed and began to walk towards Malfoy as he had to walk past the blonde to get away from the pitch.
"Watch out if you're going to fly… there's a lot of wind today." he simply muttered before leaving the areas, not wanting to get a reply even if it would be deadly silence. He just needed to get away and that was in a hurry. The Slytherin hadn't even been carrying a broom and it was to Harry a mystery what he could've been doing there if not to fly. Of course there was the possibility that he wanted to watch Harry fly but as soon as the thought had come to his mind, he pushed it away. That was definitely not it. It couldn't be the reason; there must've been better and more rational explanations than his nemesis wanting to watch him fly. The second he reached the common room, he was practically assaulted by Hermione who lead him to a sofa where Ron was sitting.
"Harry, would you please tell us what the bloody hell's going on with you, mate?"
For the first time in a while it was Ron who spoke first. It just surprised Harry for a few seconds before he could actually answer the question.
"Going on? Nothing's going on, Ron. You know that."
"Harry, you've been spacey lately, not paying attention and practically avoiding us at any given chance. Are you seeing someone?"
"What? No! I would tell you about it if I was!" he looked at her in disbelief; she should know that he wouldn't hide such a thing for his best friends. On the other hand he couldn't really say why he was distracted and that Malfoy was the reason for it. He didn't want anyone to know that he really cared about what the blonde was doing, saying or how he was acting. It was all so silly and maybe Harry was just taking it wrong and Draco actually didn't care about him anymore. That conclusion kind of stung his heart for some unknown reason.
"Then what's going on?" Hermione demanded to know, having leaded the conversation except for Ron's first comment. He could see it in her face; she was stubborn to figure this out and wouldn't leave him until she got a satisfying answer out of him. He let out a deep sigh and decided on just the half of the truth. He couldn't really tell her what was really going on inside his head, and to be honest, he didn't really know himself where to start.
"It's nothing; I'm just thinking about a lot of things currently, there's nothing out of the ordinary. It's just that I haven't been here for so long and when I get back it's… weird." he mumbled and looked away, getting up from his chair to go to his room with the broom in hand. He could feel the eyes of Hermione burning into his back but he didn't look back once before he was into the room and had locked the door behind him. His thoughts went straight to Malfoy the second he walked in there. Maybe he should just spend more time with Ron and Hermione so that he wouldn't have to think about all the mixed feelings, which bloomed in his heart every time he would think of the platinum blonde boy. It was nothing short of maddening and he wanted to get out of it before he actually did something; something stupid. He rummaged through his desk table and at last found a worn, black book that he took with him to the bed. He decided that if he couldn't talk to his friends about this, maybe he should write a diary to get all of those feelings turned into words. As he wrote, he stayed completely concentrated on what was in front of him, and on getting out what he wanted to so he wouldn't have to suffocate himself in frustration with it while he was in school and with friends. After he'd written about 10 pages in the old book he still felt just as frustrated as when he'd started on writing, maybe even more frustrated because the writing had just made him more confused of the situation than he already was. Instead he began sketching something in the book that after a little while started to look like a person… and then suddenly it was Malfoy, drawn as a profile picture showing his beautiful face and eyes… wait. Harry didn't think about Malfoy like that; it didn't happen. He sighed and threw the book back onto the desk together with the quill he'd been using. It was about time if he wanted lunch, anyways. He got up from the bed and out of his room and the common room, not even waiting for Ron and Hermione to go with him. On his way down, he didn't see a soul in the big corridors, and when he reached the Great Hall he made sure not to look at the Slytherin table and instead just walk directly to the Gryffindor table to sit down. Again he just took whatever food was there and stuffed it in his mouth while he answered with simple words like "yes", "no", "okay" and other variations of such. The first one to notice his behavior was George and Fred. They both looked at him with not confused, but more curious expressions.
"Harry, are you okay?" Fred started, "You don't look so good mate." George finished and they both looked at him as if begging for some sort of response. He must have been looking tired for them to suddenly ask him if he was okay; it wasn't something the two Weasley's would usually bother asking Harry. Why did everyone start to worry about him all of a sudden?
"Like I said to Ron and Hermione, I'm fine… it's just that there's a lot of things on my mind."
They both stood up and smiled.
"Well… I wonder if one of those things…" George began, "… has blonde hair and is sitting at the Slytherin table." Fred finished his sentence and both walked out of the hall, leaving behind a stunned Harry; he hadn't told anyone about what was happening. But what did he expect, it was George and Fred. You never knew with them, they held too much information for one to really determine what they did and didn't know. It didn't really matter much to Harry; somehow he knew that the twins weren't going to threaten with telling everyone in this case. They just had that look in their eyes when he'd been talking to them, the sort of "I-know-what-you're-up-to-so-let's-help-you" kind of expressions on their faces. Walking through the halls, he took a longer path to go through the whole castle, slowly so that he wouldn't have to be with his friends for too long. Somehow he ended up in the dungeons and of course Malfoy was there. He was walking away from Harry, talking with Pansy. She seemed to be comforting him or at least helping him out, and he seemed to be too upset to even care.
"You know Pansy, this is just so confusing? I hate it. He sees nothing. Why does it have to be him?"
"Draco love, I don't know. But maybe it's not all that confusing… you just have to give him time. He's probably not even thought of it yet."
"That just makes it worse!"
Their voices disappeared as they both walked into the Slytherin common room and Harry took off as quickly as he could muster, running until he reached the Gryffindor common room. He slowed down and stood like that for a few moments before he sighed and walked inside. Luckily he couldn't see anyone there and just dropped down into one of the many couches, looking into the fireplace where the flames were dancing merrily. His mind flooded with everything that had happened in this one day where he'd barely even started school, and it was just Malfoy, Malfoy and bloody Malfoy. Everywhere in his mind the blonde butted in somehow. And on top of that something was happening with Malfoy too, which just added to his suspicions. Suspicions of something he was scared of being the truth and not just his imagination.
"Harry?"
The voice sounded fairly familiar in the otherwise completely strange world he was walking around in currently. He stood up and turned around and standing there was no one else than Ginny Weasley, with a serious look on her face.