Note: First chapter!
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

"Draco…"

Harry woke, his breath coming out in shuddering gasps. He looked around frantically as he suddenly become conscious of his surroundings. It was 6:00 am, and a typical Hogwarts morning. Harry wiped away the sweat from his forehead as he got out of bed.

"It has been the third restless night this week," Harry thought. "When is this ever gonna end?"

Harry made his way to the common room, not even bothering to change out of his pajamas. It was Saturday morning and almost everyone was still in bed. He took a seat on his favorite chair by the fireplace and let out a deep sigh.

It had been the same dream for three consecutive days, regardless, the memory of his dream was still vague. Yet, he was haunted by a vision of cloudy gray eyes.

"To whom do these eyes belong?" Harry asked on numerous occasions. It was a mystery Harry kept to himself. He wasn't comfortable confessing his thoughts to anyone, especially Ron. Ron is and always had been Harry's best friend, but he had never been the best person to speak with about feelings. He doubted that Hermione would be very helpful either; she would probably write it off as just the result of too many hours spent working.

He laid back and groaned. He knew he shouldn't feel bothered; he had plenty of strange dreams before, but he couldn't help but wonder what it meant. What if Voldemort hadn't really died? Was this some new threat, a hold-over from the ordeal he thought was finally over?

"No" he said aloud.

Harry pushed himself off the chair and brought his backpack down from the dormitory. As long as he was up, he might as well catch up on his potions homework. A pang tore through his heart every time he thought of the old potions master. Though Snape had truly hated Harry, he had still been loyal till the very end. Somehow, Harry couldn't get angry recollecting all the times Snape had tortured him or how he had hurt his mother, knowing what he went through every day. How could he blame Snape, when he had to look at his only love's eyes every day?

What would have been a disconcerting idea was somehow, almost, comforting, as if it were an idea rather than an actual occurrence. After all, what teenager wouldn't feel strange finding out one of his worst enemies had loved his mother? But when he thought of Snape now, he only thought in terms of his sacrifice, as he did of many of the people that had passed through his short but turbulent life. Tears filled his eyes as he remembered every parental figure he had that had given up their life for his sake, for the world's sake.

He shook his head to clear his vision, and stared at his blank parchment. In this mood, he wasn't sure he can concentrate on his homework. Maybe he should try, Hermione would be on him soon enough….the flames were dancing their light across the room coaxing him to sleep…

Draco Malfoy looked around the Slytherine table, his eyes finally resting on Pansy Parkinson. How he detested her. He turned away quickly so she wouldn't notice him staring, but unfortunately the smile on her face said she did. She got up from where she was sitting and made her way towards him.

"Crap," Draco muttered.

"Hey babe," Pansy greeted. She stood in front of Draco with her hands on her hips. She was never modest when it came to make-up, but green eye shadow on a school day was a bit ridiculous. She had the first few buttons of her blouse unbuttoned and her skirt rolled about four times. And it was like this she stood in front of Draco with a smirk upon her lips.

"Babe?" Draco asked as he looked up at her from his cereal bowl. He put down his spoon in order to give his attention to the girl before him. "You do realize we broke up last summer?"

Pansy, a bit taken aback, retorted, "Obviously I remember!" She took a seat beside Draco. "You never told me why you broke up with me."

She looked at Draco with a serious expression on her face. He sighed and said, "We're just not good together, okay? What do you want me to tell you?"

Pansy jumped out of her chair in a fit of rage. Her lip trembled in fury her brow furrowing simultaneously. "You'll regret this Draco!" she screamed, making a scene.

This outburst reminded Draco of exactly why he broke up with Pansy in the first place. Her ability to make a big deal out of anything astounded him, and along with that, she always seemed to be a little too close to his male friends.

Draco let out an exasperated sigh "Will I really, Pansy? Because unless my memory is getting fuzzy, I thought I was the one that left you."

He watched in amusement as her face gradually reddened. Unable to find a suitably scathing response, she turned on her heel and stomped out of the Great Hall. He returned to his breakfast with a little smile, but his satisfaction quickly evaporated when he spotted Goyle skulking towards the table. Draco quickly slipped out from the table and took a roundabout route toward the exit. On the way, he passed Potter, who gave him a strange stare as he walked. Draco responded with a slight sneer, an automatic reaction before remembering that it wasn't quite the sort of thing he could, or at least should, do anymore.

Potter continued to look dazed and did nothing. Vaguely confused by this, Draco walked out into the cooler entrance hall. More students were milling in, making him feel claustrophobic. He escaped to the thankfully deserted bathroom. He splashed some water on his face and sat on the cold stone floor.

Was it right to avoid Goyle like this? Draco didn't know how close he and Crabbe had been, but to lose a friend and a parent on the same day had to be tough for him. And now he had no one…

His guilt still squirmed through his intestines even after months had passed. If he hadn't been so focused on catching Potter; if he hadn't left those two, especially those two, to their own devices... He got up and started pacing past the dripping sinks. The air in the bathroom was stale and thick, and seemed to wrap around and cloud his thoughts. Only one strip of light made its way through the cracked and dusty window in the corner, illuminating the sea green tile that made him nauseous.

"He knew it was dangerous when he went," whispered a voice in his head. This was true. Many things could have happened. Potter could have killed them all on the spot. The hallway could have caved in on them, as it had in other spots during that epic battle. Hell, Crabbe could have even just fallen off a tower, the way that he acted sometimes. Any number of things could have happened, right?

"Yes, but I knew he didn't really understand," the better part of himself said back. Crabbe had just been out for glory, not thinking straight. Did he ever? Either way, both of them would have followed Draco where ever he went, no matter how dangerous or absurd. It was why they were his friends in the first place.

"Exactly. The brute got what he had coming to him." Did he deserve it? He heard the unearthly scream in his head, screaming at Draco not to believe it, saying that if he did, maybe he wasn't the person he thought he was.

"No he didn't! He didn't." He felt the tears stream down his cheeks and realized he has shouted out loud. The tears splashed onto his open palm, revealing the paleness of his skin under the darkening red of the blood drying there. Shards of glass littered the floor under where he had unconsciously struck the mirror in rage. Backing up toward the wall, he sunk to the floor again.

Draco looked around the bathroom to see if anyone had heard his outburst. Human or ghost, he knew if anyone had heard him, they would have thought that he was beside himself. Appearances were all he had now, and that wasn't going to be taken away from him too. Realizing just how cold the bathroom floor was, he got up to wash his hands and face, then made his way to the grounds. He didn't know why he suddenly felt like going there, of all places, his legs felt like they were just guiding him there.

Draco stopped abruptly and just then he knew exactly why his legs led him here. This place on the grounds, this very spot was the place where he had failed. He had failed to kill someone who the Dark Lord wanted him to kill. The guilt he was feeling in the bathroom must have seeped into his legs; suddenly his legs gave away and he fell to the ground, to his knees. Silently tears began to fall from his cheeks onto the grassy ground, as he remembered what had happened here just one year ago.

Draco leaned back against the rough bark on the sunny side of the tree, letting the sunlight spread warmth over his skin. His fingers locked around thin blades of grass, to keep his hands from finding their way to his pocket. With his eyes closed, he could hear more clearly than usual the voices of all the other students on the lawn, mingling with the general sounds of springtime: the soft chirps of returned birds, the pad of running feet, the whirr of flying objects cutting through the light air. His still figure added nothing to these sounds, but merely observed them. This was the best time of day, when he didn't have to think; of things to say, or what emotions might be showing, or even how to perform a spell. But even though he longed to just exist, the shards of glass in his pocket reminded him that he would be forced into consciousness if he tried to forget. For now, though, he could lay and listen.

All of a sudden, a shadow interrupted his calm. He flipped open his eyes to glare at the person in front of him. "What do you want?" he growled, so quietly that he doubted if it was audible.

In front of him stood Potter, swaying awkwardly on his feet. "I, er…" He was looking down at his feet. To Draco's confusion, a blush crept up the boy's cheeks. Draco felt a vague sense of appreciation for the color as it contrasted with his skin, but the feeling disappeared so quickly that he couldn't analyze it. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

A million different biting responses threatened to choke him, but all that escaped Draco's throat was, "What?" He rearranged his face into what he hoped was a neutral expression, but he didn't think he succeeded, as was the case whenever he was angry at this particular person. But it wasn't like it mattered anyway.

Potter's courage finally seemed to desert him. "Yeah, I can do this later, or some other… time…." his voice trailing off at the end. His eyes (since when were they so green?) flicked away from the ground to a cloud floating along the horizon. Draco had never seen his enemy so emasculated in front of him, and he found it made him angry for no apparent reason.

"You know, just because you saved my life that one time doesn't mean you can just come up and annoy me any time you want." Ridiculous. He sounded so ridiculous. "It doesn't mean anything. I'm not your damsel in distress, so you don't have to keep checking up on me to see if I'm okay. So you can quit acting like the lion protecting the lamb."

In a flash, Potter's eyes narrowed. Draco could track the growing anger in his expression, stretching across his features and changing them into something completely different than what they had been before. "You'd think that you'd have learned your lesson. With your parents in jail and you practically having nothing left, that you'd have a little more humility."

"Don't you dare talk about my parents," Draco retorted, his voice rising fast. Without realizing it, he was standing a foot away from his nemesis.

"And why not? You've had enough goes on my parents. At least I'm telling the truth when I say your parents are scum."

Heat flushed Draco's face and next thing, he felt a sharp sting where his fist had connected with the other wizard's jaw. Their eyes held for a moment before they both hit the soft ground. Potter's hands were wrapped around his throat and his mouth was ejecting strange, almost bestial sounds. Draco had trouble breathing, but he was able to bring his knee up hard into Potter's middle, loosening his grip. The blond attempted to swing his body over to crush the other boy's side, but it didn't work well. Potter retaliated by punching him in the eye. Draco was only distantly aware of the crowd of spectators that was forming around them, cheering on both sides but not trying to stop them.

Draco found that the longer they fought, the less he seemed to feel. The only sensations that broke through the bubble around them were of the frantic beating of his heart and the screaming that seemed to move through him like bad music. Really, the excess noise only seemed to embolden, rather than embarrass, him as his fingers sought out a place to scratch out sensitive skin.

And then, when Harry's blows had subsided, he thought he had won. But there were arms around his chest and the crowd parted to give him and his captor pass as he was dragged away. When there was enough distance to prevent him from recommencing his attack, the arms let him drop. He turned around, centimeter by centimeter, to look up into the face of Aurora Sinistra; the Astronomy Professor. She was surprisingly strong for someone to drag a student of Draco's size through a crowd, but she did. She then pulled the young boy in front a hallow tree.

Students dispersed from the area when the teacher arrived leaving a stunned Harry alone in the field, only to stare at Draco being pulled by Sinistra. His green eyes clouding over; with a turn on his heels as he walked away from the scene like he was trying to forget it ever happened. Sadly Draco could not, as he was being bombarded with the do's and don'ts of Hogwarts, by another teacher. He zoned out after another 'you shouldn't do' and gazed pass the professor.

Draco couldn't understand why he was getting hassled while the 'great' Harry Potter was left unscathed. He already had detention later today, another day wouldn't hurt. The student then began to wonder how he got into this mess to begin with. Potter was acting a little strange when he came over interrupting Draco's silence. He also was babbling like a fool, like he couldn't find his voice or something. Whatever it didn't matter anyways...