Author's Note: Hey guys! This idea sort of popped into my head, and so I just sat down and wrote it out. Also, I'm looking for a Beta reader, if your interested PM me... Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If J.K. Rowling ever gets tired of doing so, however, I'm always open to that. :)

Harry glanced over to where Draco sat, admiring the blonde hair so carefully gelled to the nape of his neck. He wished he could have hair like that, then maybe it wouldn't be so hard to keep neat. Then again, he had his dad's hair, and that was something special. Either way, Malfoy had hair to rival a unicorn, and Harry was insanely jealous. He tilted his head, trying to get a look at the blonde's face.

"Oi, mate, are you even listening?" Ron took a disgustingly large swig from his glass of orange juice, eyes trained on Harry. "Me and Dean-"

"Dean and I," Hermione corrected.

"Me and Dean, Dean and I, whatever. Saturday is Hogsmeade, and George is timing his grand opening with the day all of us students have free roaming power. Care to join us in saying hello and maybe buying some things?" Ron had been talking about this for months, of course Harry would go.

"Of course, Ron! What about you, Hermione?" He asked, seeing her face and knowing there was probably an internal war going on in her head, arguing between fun and studies.

Ron noticed the same thing, and narrowed his eyes at his long-time crush and best friend. "Now, Hermione, I know you're making that face because you're deciding how much money to bring and not whether or not you should go." He nudged her with an elbow teasingly. Harry grinned, knowing that this was the beginning of another one of their bickering little arguments.

Ron and Hermione's relationship was strange, but strong. They weren't officially together, but people referred to them as such and they didn't try to deny it. They would bicker all day, have "make-up" sex at night, and then vehemently deny doing any of it in the morning. They've changed so much since the war, Harry thought as he watched Hermione steal a piece of bacon off Ron's plate, everyone has.

"Of course I'll go, Ronald." She said, munching on Ron's bacon (much to the redhead's disbelieving chagrin). Another thing he didn't get about the two of them: the only people who called Ron 'Ronald' were Hermione and his mother.

"But," she continued, effectively cutting off the look of joy Ron was giving her, "that means we all have to finish the Muggle Studies and Charms homework. Before we leave. And no, Harry, 'defeating Voldemort and saving the whole wizarding world' is not a valid excuse."

He sighed in defeat, and resigned himself to staring at the back of Draco's head again, wondering how he could make his hair look so good.

~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~

He was running through a long hallway, running and running and running. He never felt tired, never got bored. His feet pounded with a dull thump thump against the cement floor, speeding faster and faster. White doorways flashed by and then vanished, briefly illuminating the dark passage. He slowed down a bit, trying to look in the rooms the doorways connected to as he passed them. Each little moving pictures playing in them. Draco, in first year, asking to be his friend. A meter or two down there was another door: random side-shots of Draco walking into class, the mosquito bite he had gotten on his neck and wouldn't stop itching, that annoying smirk on the little face. Harry ran past more doors, watching Draco grow older and older. He had to go in a room, soon, otherwise… He didn't know what would happen, but he just knew he had to get in one of those rooms. The doors, which in the beginning were only a few centimeters apart, had slowly grown less frequent, and now that the doors were showing him Draco in sixth year, there were barely any left. After that, he had to run for a while, before seeing a quick series of doors. As he passed them by, he could see Draco's face hovering over him, telling Lucius he didn't know whether or not he was Harry Potter, and keeping his identity a secret. Before he could turn and leap through the doorway, the cluster was past him. He could see one door left, down the endless corridor, and he made sure to be ready to jump into it. His feet went faster and faster, and as he leapt in the last thing he saw was a shirtless Draco stretched out on his bed, mouth moving. "I-"

Harry sat up quickly, drenched in sweat. What was that about? Why was Draco in his dreams? What was with that last bit, where he was saying something suspiciously devoid of sarcasm? And that he was shirtless and on his bed? Letting his head thump back down on the pillow, he buried his face in the blankets. Stupid dream, messing him up.

He closed his eyes again, already getting the sinking feeling he wouldn't be sleeping any more that night. After a few long minutes of attempting to deny the fate's wishes, he stood with a small groan. He walked clumsily to his trunk, opening the lid and pulling out his Marauders Map. He left his invisibility cloak: it was the middle of the night; he doubted there would be anyone out to catch him. He quietly shut the lid, the latch falling into place with a small click.

Sneaking around the fat lady proved harder to do than he expected, as she was having her "beauty sleep" and refused to let him by without severely lecturing him.

"-and, really young man, do you even know what time it is?" She finished, outraged, looking like she was about to start her spiel all over again.

"I'm sorry, truly. The faster you let me out, though, the faster we can both get to sleep," He put in hopefully. The universe must have intervened at that point, because suddenly she swung open and let him through. "Thank you," he voiced with relief.

"You should be!" the fat lady grumbled after him, already rolling over to go back to sleep.

After climbing a few sets of stairs and grabbing some food from the friendly house elves in the kitchen, he found himself sitting in a niche, consulting the map. There was no movement in any of the other parts of the castle, and nothing out of place unless you counted the fact that Hermione's dot was once again in Ron's bed. "Gross, mate, I was like 10 feet away," he whispered to Ron's dot. "Thank god for bed curtains and silencing charms."

His eyes scanned the rest of the map. Was that- Why was Draco's dot moving? What was he doing at this hour, climbing up to the Astronomy Tower?

It wasn't like he cared or anything, he justified to himself. He just wanted to see what Malfoy was up to. He slipped out of his hiding place, making sure his footsteps didn't echo. The stairs to the tower were only one hallway away, and he was soon standing at the foot of the great tower. He started up, wishing for his invisibility cloak. After one flight, he thought that he must be some sort of stalker, to be doing all this just for a glimpse of Malfoy. After the second, he was calling himself an idiot for doing any of this in the first place. After the fourth, he told himself that it didn't matter what Malfoy put in his hair, he never wanted to see the git again. He finally reached the top, and could hear faint noises coming from behind the door. He quietly walked up to it. Was that crying?

No, it couldn't be. This was Draco Malfoy! He was a heartless bastard. With that thought in mind, Harry slowly pushed the door in.

His mouth fell open at the sight that greeted him. Malfoy was, indeed, crying. It was unlike anything Harry had ever seen. Malfoy was always so composed, emotionless. But this was the opposite. This was animalistic; noises of pain escaping from the tortured being that were never meant for another human to hear. Draco's walls were crumbling down, and Harry could finally see him for what he really was: a broken man, someone shattered from the inside out.

He couldn't move, he was riveted to the spot. He didn't want to leave Draco alone, couldn't make his feet move. It was so wrong of him to be here. He had no right. This was a breach of privacy that crossed the line. He shouldn't be here, he shouldn't be here-

He turned quietly and closed the door, walking the way back to the Gryffindor dormitories in utter silence.

~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~

For Harry Potter, waking up was not fun. He was grouchy when he was woken up by his alarm, grouchy when his roommates woke him up, and grouchy when he woke himself up. But waking up to your best friend climaxing not 10 feet away was probably the worst wake up he had ever gotten in his life.

"Oh, 'Mione, so… good… I'm gonna… oh… Hermione!"

Harry sat up in his bed, yanking the curtain back. His dorm-mates were all doing the same as he, sitting in bed with the curtain drawn back. There were various looks, from shock to confusion to downright enjoyment. Clearly, everyone was letting them go at it, although Harry couldn't figure out why.

What the fuck? He mouthed to Dean, one of the people who was clearly enjoying this.

Dean sent him a wolfish grin. They forgot the silencing charm, the other boy explained. And we've placed so many bets on this, it'd be a shame to waste this glorious opportunity.

Harry shot him an un-amused look and buried his head under the pillow.

To Harry it seemed like three hours later, but was probably only 15 minutes, when he heard a curtain being drawn back and immediate answering catcalls. He stuck his head out, seeing the back of an embarrassed Hermione scurrying out of the room. Ron was sitting in his bed, beet red.

"Dean, you owe me money!"

"Wow, Ron, you lasted longer than I thought you would. Are you on some sort of Muggle drug?"

"I don't owe you a single knut!"

"I like that noise you made at the end; it sort of reminded me of my cat!"

"Oh, sod off." Ron glared at them all, storming into the bathroom.

Harry grinned a little, then grabbed his robes and headed down to breakfast.

After maneuvering through the tables and sitting down, he realized how hard it was going to be to avoid of Ron and Hermione. Not that he was mad at them or anything, but after that show this morning he really didn't think he'd be able to look them in the eyes. He piled food onto his plate, scowling. First of all, he was sure Ron wanted to talk about Hogsmeade tomorrow. Secondly, he knew that if he was here for much longer, there wouldn't be much of a possibility that he could remain alone. Lastly, he wanted to talk about Malfoy and what he had seen the night before. It was ingrained into his cornea: the way Draco's eyes were so empty, how his body had shook and trembled with sobs. Poor Draco. And really, he couldn't call him Malfoy in his head anymore. After what he had seen, even unintentionally, he would be a cruel person to not even call him by his first name in his head, at least.

"Draco." He said out loud, testing the curves of this new name. A first year gave him a look as she hurried by, clearly alarmed by his saying of the name. Harry didn't even notice. "Draco." He said again, the one word rolling off of his tongue now thick with a sense of familiarity.

For some reason, Harry felt like he had just done something huge.

~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~

Harry and Draco had never gotten along. Harry had black hair, Draco had blonde. Harry had a barren childhood, Draco was given anything he wanted. Harry hadn't had any idea magic had even existed before he had gotten his Hogwarts letter, Draco had known it existed since he was born. Harry had lived in a cupboard, Draco had lived in a bloody manor. They were total opposites. Harry knew this. Draco knew this. Hell, everyone knew this. But Harry also recognized that, despite all this, they had a relationship. Not the friendly kind, of course, but the kind where they usually had a verbal sparring match once a day, and they had never gone more than a week without having an interaction less than 5 minutes since they first met eachother. He didn't need Hermione to point that out for him. So when he started noticing Draco's hair in his "8th year", as McGonagall called it, he didn't feel like he was being overly weird. It was just his hair, not his ass or anything gay like that. That was all the thought he had ever given it.

Seeing Draco breaking down yesterday was scary. The Malfoy he had seen in his sixth year, crying in the bathroom, was awful. But he could also see that first of all, Draco had been in an even worse state last night. And second of all, he was never, ever going to hurt Draco like he had in sixth year. He still felt horrible about it, even after all this time. But what was going on with the blonde? The last time he was crying, it was because something horrible was about to happen. Harry really didn't want to talk to him about it. He didn't even like the git. Usually, Hermione and Ron would both be here, Hermione saying logical things that would help and Ron spewing opinions about Malfoy and his whole family. But he was sort of avoiding them, and was planning on doing so until tomorrow, when they were going to George's grand opening. Bloody George and his bloody grand opening, thought Harry.

Confused as he was about the whole thing, Harry at least thought that he should pull Draco aside and let him know that he had been seen. Of course, he would tell him through a particularly strong Protego. No need to lose an eye over his stupidity and bloody Malfoy's temper.

~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~

The atmosphere that always accompanied the end of a Friday afternoon was in full swing when Harry left his last class of the day. It was easy for him to avoid both Ron and Hermione: they had no classes together on Fridays. But thanks to that, it also meant that he had two less sources to tell him that finding Malfoy ad saying that it was known to his enemy that he was crying hysterically in the Astronomy Tower was an awful idea. So before he could convince himself otherwise, he found himself standing on his tip-toes and scouring the corridors for a certain head of shockingly blonde hair. He was not disappointed, and soon found the person he was looking for, walking in the opposite direction with what Harry assumed was a disdainful smirk on his face. Harry squeezed himself through the crowds of students to go talk to Malfoy. He was only a foot away, his arm reaching up to tap the aristocratic shoulder, when-

"Harry!" The boy groaned and turned to face his best friend. She looked nervous and a little pissed, one arm full of books and the other dragging a grumpy looking Ron.

"Where have you been? We missed you at breakfast, and then at break, and then during lunch! I had to pull Ron all over the castle to find you! Are you avoiding us or something?"

Harry found himself studying the floor. "Or something..."

"Harry, why? What did we- oh Merlin, are you really that uncomfortable with sex?"

It was well known Harry was uncomfortable with sex and anything to do with it. Even when he was together with Ginny, they never did anything more than kiss. When the other boys and sometimes girls talked about their various conquests, he would always blush and try to leave as soon as he could.

Harry's face said it all.

"Oh, Harry, you- we shouldn't have done that, I'm so sorry."

"Mate it's just sex, no need to-" Hermoine turned around and sent him what Harry could only assume was a very scary look. "I mean, of course we understand your fear of sex and it's perfectly understandable and we understand how this is hard for you." Hermione didn't look impressed. "What I mean, is, that we are very understanding of this. We understand."

Harry grinned sourly. "If you say 'understand' any more, it's going to stop sounding like a word and start sounding like a weird alien language."

"Sorry."

"Look you guys, I know you have, um, special alone time together sometimes, there's just a very big difference between knowing it happens and having to hear the entire bloody thing."

"We're really sorry Harry, truly."

"It's okay, I don't mind. Just... don't do it again, please." He found himself saying.

Hermione smiled and took Ron's hand. "Alright, of course not. Want to go study with us? The Transfiguration essay is due on Monday." She reminded him, adjusting the bag on her shoulder to a more confortable position. Harry grimaced, realizing he had actually been sort of enjoying his time without the couple around. He really didn't want to go with them, not yet. "Maybe later." He said vaguely. Hermione smiled again, this time a knowing one.

"Okay. See you later, Harry!" And with that she was gone, pulling Ron away in the direction of the library.

Harry watched them disappear. Not knowing what to do with himself anymore, he made a beeline for the Room of Requirement. His path was suddenly cut short when he slammed into a solid object, sending his books flying and him stuck under all of them.

AN: A bit of a cliffhanger there, sorry :) I feel like that was super long, and then suddenly got shorter when I uploaded it. Is it just me, or does that happen to everyone? Please review, your feedback keeps me going! :)