Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR and her publishers; no money is being made.
This story developed from a drabble prompt: "Harry sees Malfoy trip on the stairs."

~ 05 ~

"Malfoy?"

There's no answer, just muffled sniffling from under the covers. Harry approaches the bed, sitting down on the edge.

"Go away."

Harry doesn't. Instead, after some hesitation, he reaches out to touch limp blond hair. He has no idea what he's doing, and he hopes he's not making everything worse.

"Go away! Go away, go away, go away..."

Malfoy's voice is hoarse from crying, chanting the words over and over like a protective spell. But he doesn't move, and after a while, his protests die down to tired murmurs, then silence.

Malfoy is sleeping. Harry smiles.

.-.-.-.

~ 06 ~

It's the same the next evening, and the ones after that. Malfoy tells Harry to leave, but he never resists, just falls silent and sleeps after a while.

It's a strange kind of truce – Harry sitting with Malfoy silently, stroking his hair, Malfoy enduring it, or soaking up comfort, Harry can't tell. A week goes by and Malfoy stops objecting completely. Is that a good or a bad sign?

They could go on like this forever, it seems, but it's not enough. After two weeks, Harry decides taking a risk.

"You know, he didn't kill only your parents."

.-.-.-.

~ 07 ~

It was the wrong thing to say – Malfoy shifts away from his touch immediately.

Still berating himself, Harry almost misses the sounds from under the covers. It's whispers so faint that he has to lean forward, and even then he can't make it all out.

There's "idiot", and "arsehole", and "...not the same!" Sobs and then "...have more family.....uncle and aunt!"

"They're not my family! They hate me!"

Harry is on his feet, heading for the door.

"They locked me into a bloody cupboard for years! Stop feeling so awfully sorry for yourself!"

.-.-.-.

~ 08 ~

Three days later – and he didn't visit him once – Harry finds Malfoy slumped on the floor in the corridor.

"What happened?"

"Loo," Malfoy murmurs, not looking up. "Still can't walk properly."

Harry doesn't know what to say; this is absurd. Does it happen every time, and how come he didn't notice? Someone must have!

Malfoy lets Harry help him up and to his room in uncomfortable silence. He sits down on his bed, and now what? Harry makes to leave when his hand is grasped from behind. Malfoy's fingers are cold around his.

"Please."