A/N Thanks to reviewers:

Njferrell: Hehe, yes I know which word you meant! But its not the fact that Harry might not believe Draco, its that Draco doesn't want to see him get hurt. Bless him…

Luxa: Thanks hehe! I'm glad that you liked the cliffy, but that's not getting resolved for a while yet…

Zaraki.chan: I know!!! It's so funny the way that they're always so close and then one of Harry's friends comes round hehe!!! But Draco always blames it on poor Hetty lol!!!

I Need You

Harry was throwing up. Why? He had no idea. But it had been a day and a half now, and it pained him to even get out of bed. The sight of food made him feel sick, and the smell of it set him off. He had no idea how he could have caught a bug, unless Ginny had carried it to the manor two days earlier, but it was certainly that. At first he had thought it was because of eating copious amounts of food after eating nothing at all, but that wouldn't have lasted as long as this. So he came to the conclusion that he had eaten something that wasn't cooked properly, and that Malfoy hadn't eaten. This would have made sense, as the day after Ginny had visited, Malfoy didn't eat his lunch, and Harry did.

Slowly and weakly, Harry stood up and flushed the toilet. He staggered back to his bed and climbed in, basically having to drag his arms and legs after him.

There was a knock on the door.

Not now… He thought wearily as the door opened quietly.

"Harry?"

Malfoy's voice sounded worried, and even though it was weak, Harry's heart gave a small jolt. He cursed.

"Are you still ill?" Malfoy said, walking towards the bed.

"What does it look like?" Harry answered pathetically.

Malfoy groaned, "I'm going to kill that stupid elf!"

"Don't bother," Harry replied, "People are allowed to undercook things sometimes, it's not her fault!"

"But look at you!" Malfoy moaned.

"I look the same as normal…" Harry started.

"Just paler…" Malfoy finished.

Harry paused and looked at him for a moment, and then turned his head away. He wished his heart would stop pounding whenever he looked at those lips…

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Malfoy asked quietly after two minutes of silence.

Harry shook his head.

"You know you have to look at me sometime," Malfoy stated. "We have to… Talk about the other day…"

"There's nothing to talk about!" Harry snapped suddenly, swinging his head up far too quickly. He felt like he was going to throw up, but he couldn't get out of bed; he was only wearing boxer shorts.

He gagged violently and swallowed, which made the situation far worse, and he threw up all over the duvet that covered his entire body.

Malfoy, who had given a squeamish jolt, looked absolutely disgusted. Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"I'll…" Malfoy said squeamishly, "I'll get Hetty…"

"There's no need," Harry smiled. He took his wand from the bedside table, "Scourgify," He muttered, and the debris of his illness was quickly siphoned away.

Malfoy conjured a glass of water, which Harry later sipped on, and they sat in silence for many more minutes, Malfoy obviously not wanting to carry on with their previous conversation.

After wasted minutes of Harry trying not to fall asleep, he said quietly, "What time is it?"

"About two o'clock," Malfoy answered. Harry saw his hand move a little towards him. "I – I hope you don't mind me being here, I just… was bored…"

"I like you being here," Harry replied without thinking. He bit his tongue painfully after the words dripped from it, and started to shake a little.

Malfoy smiled, very slightly, at him, and his hand moved closer to Harry's bed.

"Have you heard from Ron or Hermione at all?" Harry asked, trying to take his attention away from Malfoy's wandering hand.

"No, should I have?"

Harry shrugged. "I want to know when they want me to destroy the…" He stopped.

Malfoy cocked his head to the side to study him, and Harry's mouth smiled weakly. Malfoy had never done that before, it was… dare he think it… cute.

"Destroy what?" Malfoy asked.

"N-nothing," Harry answered quickly.

"Is it Order work?" He asked eagerly.

"I can't tell you."

"Please!"

Harry shook his head.

"Please!" Harry shook at the tone Malfoy was using; almost like a child was sweetly trying to get something. He shook his head.

"No!" Harry yelled.

Malfoy jumped back a way in his chair before his eyebrows moved closer together in a frowning motion. "I just want to help, Harry. You can let your feelings out on me, I don't mind. And maybe I can ask Gr-Her-Hermione for some… information…" He stuttered on the word 'Hermione', while saying it slowly, like it was something that would make him sick. But he had said it anyway, and Harry smiled. Malfoy smiled back. "I want to help," He repeated.

"If you want to help, stay with me."

Harry cursed again. Where were these words coming from?! Even Malfoy looked shocked this time, as a smile did not appear on his face but his eyes widened.

"I'm sorry…" Harry mumbled, but then a hand touched his, and Harry looked up, getting a sense of 'finally' in his head.

"Don't be," Malfoy replied quietly.

"Malfoy, I don't…" Harry stopped, he couldn't think of how to say it without hurting him.

"What?"

"I… I don't love you…" He said, shaking his head slowly.

The grip on Harry's hand faltered, but then a smile appeared on Malfoy's face again.

"Ok…" Malfoy replied quietly.


'I don't love you…'

'I don't love you…'

'Malfoy, I don't love you…'

Harry couldn't help but wonder how true (or false) that sentence was. Of course, he wanted it to be true. But even three days after saying it, it hadn't stuck in his head the way he wanted it to.

He paced his room a couple more times, now back to almost full health, and then sat on the seat at the window. He dragged his hand messily through his wild hair, and rubbed his scar in plain aggravation. But, now that he thought about it, it did prickle a bit. His scar, that was – not his hand… which still tingled at the thought of Malfoy's soft flesh on it… Harry rolled his eyes. He couldn't believe he'd just done that. Gone from thinking of something as important as Voldemort, to the feel of his 'enemy's' skin on his. And what did that word mean anymore? For Harry was sure that if it wasn't for Draco's – Malfoy's – lust, then they would be very good friends by now. And that was another thing, why had Harry found it so difficult to say 'Malfoy' the other day? Of course, he hadn't let on that that was how he felt, but after calling him Draco the day that Ginny came round, 'Malfoy' just sounded cruel and heartless.

His scar prickled again, and Harry sighed. That either meant that Voldemort was close, happy, or angry. Something had definitely happened, but the Order weren't keeping him informed at all. The only person he'd heard from for ages was Ginny, and she didn't know anything about what the Order were trying to do. And then a jolt of excitement went through him, what if his scar was prickling because the Order had destroyed a Horcrux and Voldemort knew? But then, sadness overcame that excitement; had they done it without him? When they told him that he could do it himself?

Harry stood up, clenched his fists and let out a sort of grunt before realising that the door was open and Malfoy stood there, smirking.

"What?" Harry asked irritably.

Malfoy laughed, still smirking, "I was coming to see how you're feeling, but I see that you're fine." Harry watched him walked across the room towards him. "Is something wrong? Have you got a letter from someone?"

Harry scrutinized him for a moment, and then replied, "No, my scar is hurting." He then rolled his eyes so that Malfoy couldn't see. That must have sounded so stupid to him.

"It hurts?" Malfoy jumped up from where he had previously taken a seat, and sprung in front of Harry, looking terrified. "Has it done that before?"

Harry couldn't stop the smile spreading across his face and letting out a short laugh. "Yes, it does it all the time. Not for a while though…" He added thoughtfully.

"Well, is it a bad thing?" Malfoy asked, hiding the slight embarrassment of being worried – or that's what it looked like.

"Well… Sometimes…" Harry mumbled, and then decided on the truth. "Yes."

"Why? How is it bad? What happens?"

Harry laughed again, "Don't worry, all that happens is I can see Voldemort's thoughts and feel his feelings."

Malfoy gawped.

"I'm used to it," Harry waved it aside and started to add "But Dumbledore said…"

He stopped. A sudden urge to change the subject dawned on him. He didn't want to speak of Dumbledore right now.

Malfoy closed his mouth and turned away slightly. They stood in silence for minutes on end, Harry's scar prickling worse by the minute.

"Draco," Harry whispered, "I need to see the Order members; soon."

"I'll get them to come here…"

"No," Harry cut in, "I want to go to them. I want… I want to go back to Grimmauld Place."

Malfoy looked at him as if he took offence.

"It's nothing like that…" Harry reassured him. "I just… I get scared when my scar hurts… It's like it's a sign. I want to see everyone. Including Ginny."

Malfoy's head twitched uncomfortably. "Is something going to happen?" He asked.

Harry paused and shut his eyes as if to form a good answer in his head, but instead he saw a bald, snakelike, and yet human, figure giving orders to a tall, dark haired wizard. Voldemort started to laugh, quietly at first, then louder and louder. He turned and saw a meek little man on the ground. There was a flash of green light as the laughter got louder, and then the man was dead. But it didn't stop there. Voldemort turned and Harry saw three other death eaters, kneeling, waiting for their fate. Three more green flashes, and four bodies lay unmoving on the ground.

"Harry!"

Harry opened his eyes to realise that he was on the floor, sweating.

"What's happened?" Malfoy said loudly, shaking Harry, "I'm going to get someone!"

Harry wiped his face, "No! It's ok, I'm fine!"

Malfoy was halfway to the door before he stopped and turned around. "You're sure?"

Harry tried to clamber to his feet, "Totally," He sighed. "Can you… Can you help me up please?"

Malfoy rushed forward and took Harry's hand, pulling him up quickly. As Harry stood on his feet he wobbled a little, shaking. "Thanks," He said quietly.

He realised that their hands were still holding one another, and made an effort to pull his away, but despite him being bigger and stronger than Malfoy, his grip was tight on Harry's hand.

"Did you see something, then?" Malfoy said, not letting him go.

"Like what?" Harry asked wearily.

"I won't let you go until you tell me what you saw."

Harry eyed him suspiciously, not really understanding, but his hand was beginning to tingle again, and he hated that.

"Voldemort killed some Death Eaters," Harry said quietly, "He knows about the Horcruxes."

Malfoy released him. "The what?"

"The… I can't tell you," Harry replied.

"Why not?"

"Because…"

"You don't trust me?" Malfoy finished his sentence for him.

"No…" Harry tried, "You're just… You're not in the Order."

"So, in other words, you don't trust me," Malfoy went slightly pink in the face, which didn't often happen, so Harry stepped back a few steps. "Even after you've lived here for two months, you don't trust me. Do you honestly think that if I were a Death Eater I'd have Harry Potter live at my house and not let the Dark Lord know?"

"Only Death Eaters call him the dark lord!" Harry shouted uncontrollably.

"I'm not a Death Eater!" Malfoy snapped.

"I don't care if you're not now, you were! And that changes everything!" Harry yelled.

"Even your feelings for me?" Malfoy shouted back.

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "I don't have feelings for you," He said quietly.

"Then prove it!" Malfoy said, still with a raised voice.

"What?" Harry asked, looking up.

"I… I don't want you here if you don't feel anything for me!" Malfoy demanded. "Go back to your Grimmauld Place and tell them all about your scar! Tell them what you saw! Don't bother about me! No one cares about me, just because my father was evil…"

Harry stared with a most confused look on his face. Where had that burst out from? He thought that he was the only one to say things he didn't mean. And then, with a great shock, Harry saw a tear fall down Malfoy's cheek. That's when Harry realised; it wasn't a stupid crush, or pure lust that had a hold on Malfoy. He didn't really want Harry to leave at all.

He felt a stab of guilt, followed by one of pity. Malfoy had taken Harry in when they were such enemies, to protect him from Voldemort, and then fallen in love with him. And Harry repaid him by not trusting him and thinking him a traitor.

Malfoy's tongue popped out of his closed lips and caught the one tear that had reached the corner of his mouth, and Harry's hand jolted at his side. It sickened him to realise that he wanted to hold him, and make him feel better.

And then, his tongue, lips and voice all acted of their own accord again.

"I'm sorry Draco…" He said quietly. His feet carried him towards Malfoy with an action that Harry hadn't told them to do. "I know you're not a Death Eater, and I don't want to leave."

Malfoy looked up and smirked weakly. "Is this you finally admitting that you want me, Potter?" He asked quietly.

Harry shook his head slowly, "I need you, I don't want you."

They were so close again now, their faces only inches apart.

"It's sometimes better to be needed than wanted," Malfoy said, moving ever closer to Harry. "I need you too, you know."

Harry leaned down slightly, his heart beating faster than it had for a long while. His hand felt electric as it moved to Draco's back, and a shiver shot up his spine as Draco's hand did the same to him.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to feel your lips, Harry…" Draco whispered so that Harry could feel his breath mingle with his own.

He had no time to reply, however, as Draco's lips pressed onto his, softly at first, and then started to push harder so that Harry had to push back as to not fall over. His eyes closed, and a series of images flashed through his mind. Draco, naked, was the first, which aroused him quickly. However, the following images were less beautiful than that. Ron and Hermione stood, looking completely disgusted and disowning, Lupin shook his head disappointedly, and suddenly, and for the longest time, Ginny lingered in his head, crying and screaming at him.

"Master."

Draco's lips were gone and Harry opened his eyes to see Hetty standing at the door. He couldn't decide whether he was frustrated or glad of the sight of her appearance.

"Hetty," Draco hissed, "If you don't start to knock on doors before you enter rooms, I will punish you."

"Hetty apologises, master Malfoy," The elf squeaked shakily, "But Miss Granger and Mr Weasley are in the hall. They say they urgently need to speak to Mr Potter, sir."

Draco's head spun towards Harry, but to his surprise, he wasn't glaring as usual. He was smirking. "Shall we continue this later, then?" He said sleekly.

Harry got a shock as he was reminded of the old Malfoy he used to go to school with, and an even larger shock as he realised he quite liked the smooth tone of his voice.

Harry formulated his face into a half smirk, but somehow a half worried look as well, before he said, "We'll see," And walked out of the room.


A/N Hehehe!! Ok? Hope so! Please remember (as the time draws nearer) that I've never written slash before, so please forgive me if its not very good. I'll try my best though!