A/N: Still not JKR, still don't own anything. *lesigh* Anyway, I'm really trying to churn these out as quickly as I can for you guys, But I'm going to start to take a little more time for them. These chapters coming up are going to be angsty and all trippy and so I need to figure them out. I'm still writing! Just don't freak out if it takes me more than one day to update.

Also, my transition things aren't working on here, so instead I'm going to be doing a bold line of s's to separate parts. They don't mean anything except transitions.

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Hermione hung out the window anxiously, looking desperately for Draco on the platform. He wasn't anywhere to be seen, and she would have known that blond head of hair anywhere. Harry tugged on her sweater.

"Hermione, the train's about to start, it'll rip your head off. Come sit down."

"I just don't know where he is," she said, settling uneasily on the seat. Luna stuck her head up from behind a Quibbler, made a strange noise, and retreated again. Harry shrugged.

"He'll turn up. He's crazy about you, anyway, so…"

Hermione felt sick to her stomach. She turned and pressed her face against the cold window. Draco wasn't crazy about her. He was grateful to her, yes- he'd said so once. And sure, he was her friend. But he'd never loved her romantically, not like the way Harry meant.

"He-" she stopped herself. Draco would tell Harry about their fake relationship in his own time. Instead, she forced a smile and turned to her best friend. "How was Christmas?"

Harry shrugged. Ron had alternately moped and acted like he was fine and had muttered Hermione's name several times in his sleep. Ron was very angry with himself, and so being at the Weasley's for Christmas, while thoroughly entertaining, was like spending a week watching a man try to tear himself apart. In the end he'd just avoided Ginny by hanging out with Lupin, who'd stopped by, and the twins, who were actually good for a laugh and had taught him several new ways out of the castle. Instead of explaining this, he simply said, "not too bad. Yours?"

"It was fine, thanks," said Hermione, slightly miffed by his response, and looked around the car. Neville was buried in a book and Luna was now making circles in the air with her finger. Dean and Seamus, who were passing by, were talking and laughing. Was it only her who felt uneasy right now?

There was a flash of red hair outside the car, and Hermione had to turn towards the window to hide her half grimace, half smile. Ron had taken Harry's invisibility cloak. She should be creeped out, Hermione reflected, pulling a book out of her bag to keep her occupied, but this was sort of the thing she'd been hoping for. A boy too ashamed to show his face, but one who cared enough to find a way to see her. She'd finally succeeded in asserting some control over the boy she'd finally realized that she- well, that she liked a lot. She sighed and opened to page 472 and started to read.

The familiar jolt when they pulled into the Hogsmeade station was enough to pull Harry from where he'd been having a nap. It was dark - the stars were just coming out. The tremendous sense of well-being that washed over him was comparable only to when he'd found out he was a wizard. Harry sighed, getting up and filtering into the corridor after Hermione. He was home.

Outside, the air was just a little cold, and the wind was gentle but brisk at their backs. Harry's robes pressed against his legs. Beside him, Hermione was struggling with a book.

"Here, let me help you," Harry said, and took the book from her. She flashed a grateful smile and opened her bag to put it away.

A familiar blond head stepped out in front of them, almost knocking Harry over.

"Oh, Potter, didn't see you there," said a lazy, careless voice. "Hey, Granger." And with that, the pureblood strode away, catching up to Blaise and Pansy, who were waiting for him. Hermione's head shot up and she watched rather helplessly as Draco stepped into the carriages pulled by thestrals- ones that she could now see due to Sirius's death last year. He handed his bag to someone inside, and there was brief flash of white as his eyes darted toward them. Then the boy got into the carriage and was gone.

"What the hell was that about?" asked Harry, putting the book inside Hermione's humongous bag. "Potter? Granger? I thought he was over that stuff."

"So did I," murmured Hermione, staring after the departing carriage. "So did I."

"Are you two still together?" Harry asked. Draco'd been so- cold- it was if there was bad blood between them, or something.

"I think so," said Hermione. She shook her head, like clearing cobwebs. "Come on, let's get a carriage."

Ron looked sidelong down the table where Harry and Hermione were clustered together with Neville, Dean, Seamus, and Lee. They were all laughing at something or other and jostling each other. The ginger turned back to his food, losing his appetite for the first time in a week and a half. Ron was a comfort eater, but now the sight of delectable pork and potatoes and asparagus sickened him. He pushed his plate away from his and lay his head on his hands.

He'd been such an idiot. No wonder none of his friends wanted to be near him now. After all, if it was between him and Hermione, even he'd choose Hermione. He always would.

Ron looked over at Malfoy, who was sitting with his friends, brushing an imaginary hair off his robes. He looked the same as always- but him and Hermione weren't sitting together. Was it too late? He looked down at Hermione. No doubt she would have shown some sign of distress by now if they'd broken up. Ron sighed again and stared at the sky, dark and impervious so the celebrations going on inside the hall.

I wish this was over.

He ran a hand through his hair and looked as Dumbledore cleared his throat, tapping his wand against the podium.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts! I do believe you will all be getting sleepy from all the good food sometime soon, so I will make this brief. There are only two start-of-term announcements; first of all, Hagrid has asked for, and received, a small portion of the Forbidden Forest from the centaurs. It can be used as a leisure place, but all students must stay within the borders to be offered protection against the creatures inside the Forest. "

Dumbledore calmly waited until the muttering of the students died down, and continued.

"Second, I have been approached by numerous students requesting a dance. All the teachers have agreed to have one. Now-"

It was no use. The noise in the Hall rose to a dull roar, with students excitedly grasping at each other and bouncing up and down in their seats. Only five faces in the Hall were somber: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and Ginny and Ron Weasley.

"SILENCE!"

IT was as if someone had turned off a tap- not another peep was heard. Dumbledore smiled serenely.

"We will wait until we have gotten votes from the students for what theme you would like. If you should like to submit a vote, Professor Snape here will have a box for you to put a vote into. The dance will be decided upon in a week.

"Now off to bed with all of you! There are classes tomorrow, and undoubtedly you will want to get your rest!" Dumbledore stepped back and allowed chaos to ensue.

"Oh yeah, he expects us to sleep after that," said a Hufflepuff girl who was passing close to Ron. "I've got to start shopping!"

Ron was the only silent person in a hall of hundreds. He forced his way through several giggling Ravenclaws and into a shortcut Harry'd shown him before his falling-out with Hermione. In complete silence, he made his way alone to the Gryffindor common room. The shortcut guaranteed he was the first one there, and so he sprinted up to the boy's dorms and got into bed straightaway. Blissfully, sleep claimed him just as steps were on the stairs.

Harry looked on his best friend's contorted face. In his sleep he wasn't relaxed- in fact, he looked more tense than he did awake. Harry sighed, pulled the covers up over his friend, and started to get ready for bed himself.

A Week Later

Harry lingered in the common room, pretending to do homework. It had been one week since term started. One week since none of them had gotten letters from Draco. One week since Draco had reverted back to his attitude pre-dating-Hermione. One week since the torments had started back on the golden trio. One whole entire week since his world had drastically changed.

Harry supposed he should start calling Draco by his last name again, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He knew something had to be up. People don't just change that radically, even if they used to be the biggest asshole in school. And tonight, Harry was going to find out what was wrong.

The Invisibility Cloak was five inches short on him, so he had to walk with his knees bent. The halls of Hogwarts were darkened, but he knew where he was going to find Draco without looking up. The boy had spent this time of night pacing the library for the last three days. And anyway, Harry had the Marauder's Map for assurance. It was a short walk, but Harry felt like it was the longest one he'd ever taken. Would Draco even talk to him? Or would h open up with him? Harry wasn't as emotionally stupid as most of the 6th year boys, and knew that the Slytherin needed someone to be there for him. He just wasn't sure if Draco would let him be that one.

The library door barely creaked as he opened it, and he slipped inside feeling very pleased with himself.

Straight in front of him was Draco Malfoy, illuminated in the moonlight through the window, shaking slightly, in just a thin white button down and gray sweatpants. (Sweatpants! marveled Harry. Draco Malfoy in sweatpants!) He raised his head a little from where he was sitting and said,

"I know it's you, Potter, so come out from under that wrapper of yours and let's get this over with."

Harry was so shocked that he just let the Cloak slide off him, and he walked forward, sitting opposite the table from the Prince of Slytherin.

"You can call me Harry, you know," he said. "I don't mind."

"Well, I do, now what the hell do you want?"

He was shaking, Harry realized, and without thinking about it put a hand to the side of the Slytherin's face. He was ice-cold, as if chilled from the inside with some kind of freezing spell. As Harry's warm hand contacted skin, Draco went absolutely still. If Harry didn't know better, he'd say Draco was craning into the touch. But no- his hand was flung away with some long, cold fingers.

"What was that for?" he asked, sucking on a knuckle that had hit the table hard.

"Don't- just please, don't touch me, Harry."

"So you don't mind," said Harry smugly, taking his knuckle away from his lips. Draco went very white and Harry poised himself for a fight. The paler boy stood up suddenly, knocking his chair over backwards, shattering the back with a force that Harry hadn't known the other boy possessed.

"Goddamnit, Harry!" screamed Draco, flushing red. "Don't! Alright, just don't! I can't-" Abruptly he fell silent, shaking more visibly, his hands trembling wildly against his sides. Harry reached out, again without thinking, and caught one of those ice-cold hands. Draco shook just a little more. Harry sighed, feeling profoundly weary.

"Come with me. We need to talk."

Down the dark halls they went, Harry pulling a surprisingly non-resistant Draco by the hand. Up the floors they went, using the hidden staircases in the small spaces, breaths echoing off the stone walls. Draco was holding the Invisibility Cloak, having possessed the sense to snag it from the floor despite Harry pulling him out of the library. Harry was lighting the way ahead with his wand, searching for something- but what?

"Don't run away," said Harry to him. It would have been creepy coming from anyone else, but from Harry it wasn't a warning- it was warm, welcoming, almost teasing. His hand slipped from Draco's as he paced in front of a completely blank wall.

"Po-Harry, what are you-"

"Shhhh."

He paced back and forth, back and forth. Draco watched the boy as he paced, eyes closed, concentrating. A piece of paper dangled from his hand, and he was rumpled, as always- wearing jeans and a large grey tee shirt. Draco couldn't stop staring as the boy paced back and forth, back and forth again, thist time muttering. And then there was a noise.

A door popped out of the wall and two keys materialized into Harry's open hand.

"Thank you," the Seeker whispered to an unknown source, and captured Draco's hand again. "Come on in," he said." I need to talk to you."

The inside of the room was small, intimate. There was a single plush couch and a blanket. Harry gestured to the couch and Draco tentatively walked forward. Strangely, the whole room was done in a dark red and a deep gold.

"That's odd, I asked for somewhere you'd be comfortable," noted Harry, sitting down. Draco sat down, drawing the blanket around himself. His shaking started to stop as the door closed gently. A fireplace came into being and flames leaped up into a chimney that surely couldn't have existed before.

"Now, talk to me," said Harry, opening his palms in welcome.

Draco melted.

That was the best word for it anyway. He let his face call, just a little bit. Enough to let Harry know that, yes, he did need the help that he was offering. But instead, he stood up, the blanket drifting onto the couch. He paced in front of the fire, agitated, but no longer shaking. How much could he tell Harry? How much could the other boy take?

He hadn't said one single word before Harry leaped up.

"Please don't-" He said, but Harry was reaching for his shirt, unbuttoning it quickly with the surenesss of practice.

"Wh- what are you doing?" he asked hesitantly. This wasn't what he wanted- well he wanted it so badly, but-

"Harry, you can't-"

The boy looked up, flinty green eyes sparking on Draco's grey ones.

"Who did this to you?" He ripped the shirt off Draco's shoulders, catching a cut. Draco hissed through his teeth.

"Shit, sorry-" said Harry, but Draco howled.

"Why the hell would you ever DO that?" he screamed at the other boy, collapsing into a shaking heap. All he wanted was to be close but no, Harry had to pry into matters that didn't concern him. He tried to hide as much of his battered body as he could from the Seeker, but the problem with Seekers is that a little is never enough. Harry crouched down, catching one of Draco's tears with a thumb.

"Draco, you don't have to hide from me, I want to help you, just please-"

He hauled the other boy into a sitting position. The muscles of Draco's back were so tense that they were practically popping out. Feeling only slightly awkward, he stroked the other boy's back.

"Please, I want to help!" he said desperately, "Who did this to you?"

Draco shook his head, sitting up as if stung. The full Front of his chest showed, and while Harry could see that he was muscled and well-fed, he'd been losing weight. And of course, there were the cuts, the bruises- so many and in places that Draco could never reach- they could have never been self inflicted. They were all over his back, too, and Harry noticed that several of the lines- as if made by a whip or something similar, reached under the boy's pants. Harry sighed and ruffled his hair.

"Come here, you're shaking." He pulled Draco forcibly into his arms, trying to cover as much of the other boy as he could. Draco sighed, collapsing into the touch he'd yearned for for so long.

He didn't know how long they stayed there. Hours, maybe. It could have only been a few minutes. But slowly, Draco started to talk, relating the story of his Christmas to Harry, delivering the story in little parcels, gently letting himself show to Harry Potter.

_!_!_!_!_!_!_!

This is only part one, it took me all day. Reviews please? It's the only way I can get better.

Also, I was contacted by a girl last chapter, who wanted to see if I'd like to play an RPG; it's HP and super cool and some of you might like it. Go check it out! .com

As always, love to all of you. This is going to run for a while... so thanks for staying with me so far.