Harry pushed open the door to the boys' bathroom. There, leaning over a sink with tears dripping down his pale face, was Draco Malfoy.
He made very little noise as he cried, but his shoulders shook with every sob. Harry watched with a strange kind of fascination. Here was the aloof, untouchable Malfoy: a Slytherin, a Death Eater, proud and haughty. His pale hands gripped the edges of the sink, making his slim fingers white. Harry took a hesitant step forward, not knowing whether he intended to comfort Malfoy or ridicule him.
Draco's head shot up at the sound and he glared into the mirror at the figure behind him. He quickly drew his wand and whipped around to face Harry, prepared to defend himself against anything that Potter could throw at him.
"What do you want?" Draco snapped, wand pointed - not very steadily - at Harry.
Harry slowly raised his empty hands into the air to show Draco he meant him no harm. Even as he was doing this, the thoughts running through his head were jumbled. Draco eyed him suspiciously.
"Why are you crying?" Harry asked, out of curiosity. Draco's mouth opened, ready to reply, but nothing came. He couldn't figure out why Harry hadn't made fun of him, seeing him at an extremely vulnerable point.
"It's none of your business," Draco replied coldly, stowing his wand back in his robes. Harry crossed the tiled floor, coming to a stop well within range of Draco, who still looked at him strangely.
"If you really must know, things are not going well at home," Draco said to a point over Harry's left shoulder. Moving his grey gaze to meet Harry's emerald one, he added in a snide tone, "Though I'm sure you already knew that." Harry looked a little shocked, and then slightly bashful.
"I'm sorry."
The words fell from his lips before he could stop them, and Draco stared at him, bemused.
"I…I-you…." Draco sighed. "It's not really your fault." Dropping Harry's gaze, he stared pointedly at the floor, obviously uncomfortable with the admission.
Harry smiled slightly. "So. Are you done?"
"Huh? Wha-oh. Yeah." Draco's cheeks were tinged pink, and he still didn't meet Harry's eyes.
Cautiously, Harry took a step closer. Very gently, he used his left hand to guide Draco's chin to the point where their eyes locked. There was one lone tear still traveling down Draco's cheek, and Harry, ever so delicately, brushed it off. Draco's eyes fluttered shut at Harry's touch, and he exhaled lightly.
When he reopened them, he looked into Harry's eyes and saw uncertainty. With the smallest smile, Draco's left hand reached out and grabbed Harry's robes; Draco pulled gently until there were only a few inches of space left between them.
Harry leaned forward slightly, and their lips met. A soft brush between them, small enough that it could have been an accident.
Harry's hand dropped back to his side, and Draco released Harry's robes. The look on both of their faces expressed the knowing of a secret.
"Shall we go back to lunch?"