A.N. Hello. So this is my first Drarry fic. It is set in sixth year and I hope you enjoy ?

Chapter 1

Rays of moonlight shine through the windowpanes, highlighting his thin, pale face; the colour of his lips are a faded pink, closer to white than red. Three large lashes are torn across the fabric of his shirt, revealing his broken skin, lying lifelessly
/on the tiled ground in the pool of water that is now stained with a thick crimson. Water pats rhythmically against the ceramic sink, each drop echoing loudly in this dreadful silence.

A silence shattered by broken sobs.

FIngers shakily grip onto his wand as he hoarsely whispers incarnations. Useless. Tears roll down his cheeks as he desperately tries to mend the mess he created, his words soon dissolving into pointless apologies that he knows he can't hear yet continues
/to repeat himself like a broken record. Over and over again. The blond doesn't respond, his hair matted with sweat and red as he wears the most ironically peaceful expression.

"Please..Please.." The boy sobs, his glasses cracked and abandoned less than a metre away from him, but even if he'd been wearing them, they'd be useless. His vision is blurred with tears.

"HELP!"

14th October 1996

Sneaking around the school grounds in his invisibility cloak, Harry had his eyes cast down at the Marauder's map, making sure there was nobody tailing him or feet ahead of him. So far, the parchment remained bare of names apart from the two, foot-step-shaped
/ink blotches that moved with the banner 'Harry Potter' above them.

Harry had been woken by another nightmare that night, the images of last summer's events still fresh in his mind. Bellatrix's cackles still echoed through his head, rattling his skull as he watched Sirius's dead expression fall through the veil, an
/image which was now embedded in his mind, still able to feel Lupin's strong grip around his torso as Harry struggled furiously, crying out to his godfather. Voldemort's thin, pale lips curving into his sick twisted smile, telling him that he had
/already won, having fooled the boy who lived, seconds away from quenching that strong thirst for revenge.

As Harry had woken up panting, a brief moment of panic had tightened his throat as he was unfamiliar with his surroundings, however, the soft snores of his roommates sent waves of relief, sighing as his heart continued to pound heavily, swallowing
/thickly. He had tried to get back to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, those images would flash past the inside of his eyelids, as though they were engraved there, making it impossible for him to ignore. Finally, he had given up, reaching
/for his glasses and invisibility cloak, hence resulting in where he was now.

There was one place Harry had felt strangely calm in, relaxed as he could allow his thoughts to unravel freely before him. The Great Hall. Yes, it was a rather bizarre location, one which no one would really expect (including harry himself) but the
/night he got caught in the owlery by Mrs Norris, ('that bloody cat' according to Ron) and had to escape before Filch found him, he had decided that a cat who prowled around, knowing his usual location wasn't the most comforting thought, spoiling
/his somewhat peaceful state. So he came across an unlocked great hall one evening and found it to be perfect.

When arriving at the door, he made sure to keep his footsteps as silent as possible, muttering alohomora under his breath and unlocking the door, carefully pushing it open. Once he created a crack wide enough, he slipped through, not bothering to

close it behind him, (assuming it'd make too much of a big noise).

The hall was bare, the only light being from the millions of enchanted stars that shone from above, slightly illuminating the empty, wooden tables. It always looked so strange, empty like he still wasn't used to it.

Walking in, he kept his cloak wrapped tightly around him, placing himself between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, which, without students, were now completely stripped bare of their identity. He lay himself down onto the stone floor, his father's
/cloak draped over him and stared up at the beautifully enchanted sky.

Releasing a small sigh of content, Harry allowed himself to stare up, his thoughts absorbed by the countless twinkling stars that gleamed down onto the huge hall, never ceasing to amaze Harry.

It was a distraction. A simple distraction that would temporarily drag him away from the harsh reality he was forced to face, and it was those short moments of ignorant bliss that Harry treasured before his mind broke that trance, sobering thoughts
/causing him to crash back down.

Caught up in his own small bubble, Harry didn't even hear the quiet creak of the huge wooden doors, nor did he hear the faint footsteps that tapped along the stone floor, coming to a halt a table away from him.

However, what did break him out of his trance wasn't his own thoughts, but the small sniffle that came a metre away from him. Heart leaping to his throat, he could feel his rib cage tremble with heavy pounds, a small burst of panic shooting through.

Shit..I'm going to get caught.. was his first initial thought, staying perfectly still. However, as he turned his head, the sight he was met with next shocked him more than the stars twinkling above him. Removing the cloak from his head, he called
/out, his voice rasp, his tone confused and shocked.

"Malfoy?"

Draco Malfoy. A pureblood with the utmost pride, his name holding seemingly unconditional value, carried down to centuries and had been blessed to be entitled with the Malfoy/Black heritage. A Malfoy, whose only weakness was his own emotions, who

only interacted with people of his rich status, whose family were loyal to the Dark Lord…..whose father was sent to rot in Azkaban thanks to that Potter...

Draco Malfoy, who had been entrusted with the audacious task of murder to regain the pride his family had lost.

He was the chosen one. He had the mark to prove it and there was no going back now. So… why was he here?

Draco halted before the entrance of the great hall, teeth sinking into his lower lip as his fingers were tightly clutched around his silky, pyjama sleeve, swallowing thickly at the thought of what was hidden beneath the thin fabric. His previous attempts
/were failing..he didn't know what else to do. A couple days ago, he had tried to complete this task, get it out of the way and done with so that he could gain You-Know-Who's loyalty and make his father proud. Yes..the look on his father's face
/when he realised that his son was worthy and a true Malfoy was what motivated him. But of course, as per usual, bloody potter got in the way. Again. Sticking his nose in other people's business without a second thought. He could still hear snape's
/patronising words as he saw him shortly after the Katie Bell incident.

"Your actions were foolish, Draco. Let me help you. You're too young to be dealing with this by yourself."

"No. This is my chance. I was chosen, not you."

The events were still fresh in mind, only causing anger to boil through his veins. Almost fuming, he released his sleeve, running a shaky hand through his hair, his fingers detangling the loose knots of his bright blond locks. Why did Snape doubt

him? He had always been behind Draco, getting in the way, protecting him as though he was Snape's child instead of his father's. He had always tried to upstage Lucius in every way possible, and now that he was in Azkaban, Snape was taking every
/opportunity to do so. Although it was handy in the past, for he could've gotten what he wanted with ease, now it was just becoming a burden.

I'm sixteen now. I'm not a child. The Dark Lord wouldn't have chosen me if I wasn't capable. Placing his hand back over his forearm, he blindly traced the outline of the dark mark through his sleeve. It was a symbol of pride, of bravery. He had sat
/through hours of agony to receive this, to prove that his family weren't a joke. They were practically a laughing stock when his father was sent to Azkaban. But once he succeeded, then he'd see who'd be laughing.

So why was he here? That was the question. If he was so capable of doing this, then why couldn't he sleep? It certainly wasn't the excitement, nor was it purely the anger he was faced with. No.. There was something else. Something darker..more chilling.

Fear.

No. Malfoys didn't feel fear, he had told himself, but he knew it wasn't true. He had failed twice. If he didn't do this quick…

He'd suffer. Him and his family.

He knew this more than anyone and right now, the fear of death was all he could think about, causing multiple sleepless nights.

Placing a hand on the door, he tried to push it open, to find that it already was. Maybe Filch forgot to lock it. He thought to himself before carefully walking in.

To his content, it was empty, closing the door slightly so that it wasn't left completely ajar, but still open so that heavy doors wouldn't slam shut. The hall had some sort of tranquillity, a place where he didn't have to worry as much. Laying down
/between the two tables, he stared up at the sky.

What was he going to do? Everything he had tried, he hadn't succeeded and he knew You-Know-Who was growing even more impatient by the second. At this rate, he'd have to do it face to face but….He didn't think he could. He almost killed someone else.
/Someone innocent which wasn't his intention at all. The thought struck fear in his heart, but the consequences of failing scared him even more. And there was no backing out of this now. He was stuck. If he didn't find a way soon….

Without even realising, warm tears rolled down his cheeks, his eyes widening at the sudden dampness, quickly wiping them away, sniffling. No. He was a Malfoy. Malfoys don't cry. It was a sign of weakness. He hadn't failed completely yet. He wasn't
/weak. He had to do this. Whether he liked it or not.

"Malfoy?"

Eyes widening, Draco could feel his heart leap to his throat, almost choking at the terrifyingly familiar voice, but was too quiet, rasp, a tone he had never heard that voice address him with.

Turning his head, his eyes locked with the dimly lighted head through the benches of the tables.

"Potter.."

'Draco Malfoy'

The banner with two footstep-shaped ink blotches following jumped out at Harry as he stared down at the enchanted piece of parchment, hidden under his duvet with his wand illuminating the page. Clenching his jaw, he furrowed his eyebrows. What was
/he up to now?

Earlier that day, he swore that the Katie Bell incident was because of him. It had to be. He saw him and yet even Ron and Hermione didn't completely believe him. He was up to something. What, he didn't know, but it wasn't good and he had to find out.

"Nox," he muttered under his breath, the small ball of light extinguishing. Folding up the parchment, he threw the covers off him, grabbing his invisibility cloak and ignoring his shoes. Everyone was still fast asleep, to his relief, as he snuck out
/of the dorm, draping the cloak over him.

"Lumos" he whispered under the cloak, unfolding the map as he watched Malfoy, his own name now appearing as his footsteps lead out of the passageway from the common room. Heart beating steadily, Harry ignored the rough feeling of his bare feet against
/the frozen, stone floor, his thoughts all revolved around Malfoy and only Malfoy.

He watched as his name walked from the dungeons and started travelling up the stairs. Furrowing his eyebrows, he pursed his lips and continued to follow, making sure to remain as quiet as possible, their names now drawing closer. Arriving at the stairs,
/he didn't hesitate to run up them, noticing how much closer to Malfoy he was.

Almost got you..he thought to himself, arriving at the seventh floor. Making sure the cloak was still securely wrapped around him, he looked up from his map, biting down onto his tongue as he saw the painfully familiar blonde. Malfoy, he thought,

blood already beginning to boil with hatred.

Pacing up and down, Draco walked passed the door several times, muttering an incoherent phrase under his breath. Harry watched, holding his breath as he didn't want to get caught, straining to hear what Malfoy was saying? No...why was he outside the
/room of requirement? If only he could just hear what kind of room he was requesting to appear...

Pale, shaky fingers grasped the door handle, a small hint of relief and satisfaction flashing across Draco's features as he pushed it open, Harry tiptoeing nearer so that he could slide past once Draco walked through.

Doing so, he slid through the crack, standing beside the door as the blonde closed it shut. His bare feet silently met with a smoother yet no less cold platform. Standing silently in his invisibility cloak, he watched as Malfoy walked a couple paces
/before halting, his expression hidden in the darkness. The two remained frozen, Harry breathing faintly, afraid to give himself away. However, that didn't last long as he watched Malfoy take out his wand. Tightening his grip around his own, he
/was ready to disarm him, to block any curse that came his way.

"Homenum Revelio." Harry heard him mutter, watching the Slytherin turn around. A faint light shone around him, his silhouette now visible. It was a harmless charm, however, what came after, Harry had a faint idea and it wasn't comforting.

"Didn't anyone teach you it was rude to sneak up on people?" He began his tone calm but his voice shaky, his wand rising towards Harry.

"Potter." Malfoy practically spat the name venomously, his expression twisted with hatred.

Pulling the cloak off of him, Harry revealed himself completely, although he clutched onto his wand, the small light that shone from the tip illuminating the entire room.

"Malfoy." He answered with an equal, if not more, amount of hatred. He didn't have time to look around the room, his attention now purely focused on the blond before him, his pale, pointed face gleaming in the soft light.

"What are you doing here?" Draco growled, breaking the silence between them.

"I could ask you the same." Harry retorted, his grip tightening around his wand.

"Potte-"

"I know it was you, Malfoy." The words rang throughout the room heavily, the tension between them rising. Harry could see the brief moment of panic and fear distort his features, before returning to their usual, blank expression.

"What?"

"Don't play dumb. You gave her the necklace, didn't you." It wasn't a question. It was more of a statement.

It was a few seconds before Malfoy finally responded, gathering his words. "Who gives you the right to accuse me? Don't act as if you're innocent, Potter. Following students around the school, poking your nose into business that isn't yours.

You just can't seem to resist the danger and the fame, desperate to 'save the day'. I bet you love it, don't you? When the press is all over you." He began to step closer , unaware that the proximity between them was decreasing.

Harry clenched his jaw, his blood boiling. "Shut up. You know nothing-"

"What and you know everything?" Scoffing in disbelief, Draco lowered his wand slightly, shaking his head as he held back a somewhat amused chuckle. "See? That's the thing about you, Potter. You think that you know everything about everyone. That you're
/entitled to. Well, time for a reality check. You don't have that right of passage." He snarled.

"No, but I don't need to have the right to know that you're up to something." He retorted in a low, dangerous tone.

"You go and mind your own business. Or are you muggle-loving, mudblood friends boring you and this is your new form of entertainment?" He mocked with an unpleasant smirk.

"Take that back!" Harry could feel himself begin to tremble with anger, pointing his wand further towards Draco. "Hermione and Ron are the best friends anyone could ask for. Not that you'd know anything about friendship."

"Shut it, Potter." He hissed, that comment wiping his smirk off his face. Now it was Harry's turn to smirk.

"What is it? Did I hit a soft spot? " he teased. "Not that I blame you. It must be hard having two goons who can't tell one end of a broomstick to another?"

"Leave." Draco firmly ordered, almost fuming.

"Not until you tell me what's going on."

"Why do you always need to know? You're always there. If I weren't mistaken, it'd seem like you're obsessed with me."

"Please. Don't flatter yourself. The only one who's obsessed here is you. You always go out of your way to make my life hell."

"Really?" He asked with a somewhat amused smirk. "Who followed who?"

The argument was still fresh in both of their minds. After Draco had asked him that question, Harry had simply turned around and left, muttering 'I'm not wasting my time with this' under his breath. Fighting back the urge to retort, Draco watched

him leave with relief, his heart still pounding with anger. God, he hated how potter got under his skin like that.

And the same could be said for Harry. After that, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He had told Ron and Hermione about it, but Hermione gave him a disapproving look.

"He has a point you know. I'm not siding with him, but his business isn't really yours. And besides. You should really be thinking more about your studies than Malfoy." He looked at Ron, hoping for some sort of relation between them, but Ron had bit
/down on his lip hesitantly.

"You know I hate to admit it more than anyone, but Hermione's right, mate. Maybe you should leave this alone."

It had become this endless cycle of thinking. When he wasn't thinking about Malfoy, it was Sirius and when it wasn't Sirius, it was Malfoy.

But now he was face to face with Malfoy, having caught him crying. At first, he felt a twinge of sympathy but resisted the urge to reach out to him. He wanted to wish ill on him, to think that he deserved it.. Not so great when it's the other way

round.. He thought solemnly, frowning softly. Why he called out to him, though, he wasn't entirely sure.

"Are you..crying?" He asked as if to confirm his suspicion.

Looking away, he frustratedly wiped his eyes with his forearm. "No." he stubbornly said, although it was obvious he was.

"Really?"

Shooting him a dangerous glare, Harry was actually thankful for the poor lighting, not wanting to see the amount of hatred behind them. Little did he know that there was so much more.

"Why does it matter to you?" he snapped.

"Malfoy-"

"Go on then. Laugh. Mock me. Tell me how much I deserve this. Please. In fact, go and tell the entirety of Hogwarts. Tell them how you caught the almighty Slytherin, Draco Malfoy, crying alone. That makes a great story."

"I'm not going to."

"Just what I tho-" However he paused mid-way. "What?" Did he hear him correctly?

"I have nothing to gain by mocking you. I'm not like you, Malfoy."

Of course. Made much more sense. The thought of Potter caring almost made him sick. "You and your bloody Gryffindor pride.." he muttered under his breath.

"It has nothing to do with 'Gryffindor pride'." he retorted. "It's that I have better things to do than go around spreading rumours."

Rolling his eyes, he muttered a small 'whatever' under his breath, silence falling over them. The tension was thick, the once relaxing atmosphere having shattered

Neither of them said a word, trying to return to their own thoughts but constantly thinking of the figure through the tables and going back to bed wasn't an option for either of them.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, unable to take the thick tension and lay in an awkward silence. At last, he broke it, however, the tension remained thick.

"So… how come you're here?" He asked, his question genuine, no hints if suspicion hidden in his tone.

To Harry's surprise, he didn't snap but answered civilly.

"Couldn't sleep. You?" It was a harmless question. He didn't have to go into detail.

"Same here." Silence fell upon them once again, but neither of them tried to talk. Their rivalry remained strong and Harry wasn't suddenly going to feel remorse for Draco but that was okay. Draco wouldn't have accepted it anyway.