Harry was caught trying to sneak into Malfoy Manor by an incompetent Death Eater who ran into him when he was hiding under his invisibility cloak. He was surprised when he was shoved into a dark, cold dungeon cell rather than being presented to Voldemort. He figured it was only a matter of time.
---
It wasn't until the next day that he realised he wasn't alone. A muffled sniff echoed through the huge black dungeon, and Harry couldn't stop his cry of, "who's there?" as though he could defend himself. The only reply was a choked sob, and then silent darkness again.
---
He didn't realise that he'd been talking to himself until Malfoy answered.
"The 'food' isn't worth wishing for," Malfoy said, and Harry almost didn't recognise the voice. The aristocratic drawl he was used to hearing was now nothing more than a broken whisper.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Harry demanded, and swallowed. That wasn't what he'd meant to say, and certainly not with such obviously false bravado.
"Exactly what you're doing, Potter. Dying."
Harry curled his knees up to his chest and forced himself not to think aloud.
---
Malfoy was whimpering even more quietly than before. Harry curled into a tighter ball in his corner and tried to ignore him in favour of sleep. It wasn't until the other boy gave a loud yelp that he realised it was a dream - nightmare - pushing Malfoy out of silence.
"Wake up," Harry hissed at him, and then chanted more loudly, "wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up!" There was a startled gasp from beyond the cold iron bars Harry hadn't realised he was clutching, and the silence fell again.
"Thank you," he heard, so quiet Harry was sure he'd imagined it.
---
Harry decided that Malfoy had been here a long time. He slept all the time, whimpering through most of it, though Harry learned when to wake him if the nightmares took a turn for the worse. Malfoy rarely said thank you, but Harry decided that he didn't need to.
They hardly ever spoke, but Harry decided, based on their few 'conversations', that Malfoy had done a lot of thinking since that last night of their sixth year. He also decided that Malfoy was lacking in any sort of hope.
He wasn't sure, though, how to wake him from the languor of the surrounding darkness. Malfoy didn't have an Order out there that he could count on trying to free him. Since last summer he no longer had family to go home to - or a home at all, now that the Death Eaters had taken over. All he could hope for was a quick trial and a trip to Azkaban.
On some level he knew he would never get Malfoy to hope because he was truly afraid to hope himself. Alone in this blackness he couldn't help but remember that he just had a spider-filled closet and a dead godfather for family, and his friends would probably live longer without him around.
---
"Don't give up," Malfoy said one day. His voice was small but clear, and Harry blinked into the blackness.
"What?" There was no reply, but Harry shook off his irritation and continued. "Why? Because the war needs me? So I can go out and save the world so everyone else can be happy and get on with their lives?"
"No. Because you have... friends, the Weasels and the Mud- Granger. You have a girlfriend, a life out there, waiting. Don't give up." Malfoy's voice grew slowly quieter, but Harry heard every word.
Harry sat quietly in thought after that, and wasn't surprised when he recognised the sound of Malfoy's sleep.
---
The noises woke Harry - screams, loud bangs, the thrum of magic in the air. Despite everything he woke slowly, his dream blending with the world's intrusion, until Malfoy's voice pulled him fully from sleep.
"-ter, wake up!"
Harry shook the sleep from his head, and mumbled, "what?"
"It's an attack, Potter. Quick, hide under something. Be ready to flee."
Harry blinked once, but quickly darted behind a camp bed - missing a mattress, as he had been dismayed to discover so long ago. He wondered how long ago it had really been, now that everything stretched back into the infinite darkness. Slowly his mind caught up with him - an attack - someone had come for him!
Suddenly there was a splintering noise from a bit above and away from his cell, and a shaft of light pierced the darkness. Harry caught sight of Malfoy's small form hunched in a barred cell so close to his own - he could reach across the gap, he was sure of it - and the light flared green, and then Mad Eye Moody's voice was barking out spells. He watched in disbelief as the horrible black bars melted into puddles in the floor, and stared up at Moody.
"Let's go, then! They'll be here an second, and the wards are only down for another minute!" Fred-or-George's voice was at the foot of the stairs, and Harry grabbed the arm Moody held out for him.
"Ready, boy. We'll be Apparating to a safe place now," Moody said, and Harry wasn't too shocked by the sudden rescue to note the concern - concern - in his gruff voice.
"Wait - wait. Malfoy." Harry spun, knew his eyes were wide but focusing on this one thing, the only important thing. "Malfoy, come with me."
Malfoy stared back at him, looking lost, and Harry tried to iwill/i hope into him because he didn't have time to explain. "Now!" Fred was calling, and there wasn't enough time, but Harry extended an arm and slowly, slowly Malfoy nodded, and grasped his hand.
And then they were Apparating away, and Harry finally let himself hope.