A/N: Written with absolutely no mention of Harry's weird chest monster.

DRACO:

As Draco left the Room of Requirement, he had to fight to keep tears from leaking from his eyes. He walked quietly back to the dungeons, thoughts swirling in his head about Harry. Fortunately, the common room was very busy when he arrived, so he was able to slip into his dormitory without being spotted by his friends, who were sat in a corner talking. The dorm was empty, so he quickly got ready for bed. Then he closed the curtains around the bed and settled in to write in his journal.

What was I thinking making friends with Harry, and talking to him about careers and futures? We can never be friends, let alone anything more, if all our conversations end badly like that one did. I don't want to talk or even think about the war or my old ways of bullying, and yet every conversation we have seems to end like that. But I swear I felt something between us when I touched his arm. I'm not quite sure what it was I felt, but it felt good. And Harry said he'd only gone there to talk to me. Why is he so intent on getting to know me better? What does it mean?

I'm conflicted. On one hand, I want to distance myself from Harry Potter and all the bad memories he triggers. On the other hand, I want to get so much closer to him.

Draco heard Blaise and Theo come into the room, deep in conversation, and he decided it was time to go to sleep.

He was walking down a long, dark corridor. His heart was racing. The walls were all black and there were no doors or windows in sight. He couldn't see the end of the corridor. He looked behind him. He couldn't see where he had come from. Part of him wanted to speed up – to get out of there as soon as possible. The other part of him suspected that wherever he was heading was not somewhere he would rather be. He found that he didn't seem to have a choice: his legs kept moving regardless of whether he wanted them to or not. He walked and walked for hours, his surroundings never changing.

The end of the corridor appeared out of nowhere. It was a dark mahogany door which Draco recognised from the Manor. His body pushed the door open against his mind's will and stepped inside.

The room was dark and cold. Draco knew He was there even though he couldn't see Him. As he made his way into the room, his wand lit up, illuminating a heap on the ground that appeared to be shaking – it was a person.

"Draco," said His high-pitched serpentine voice from the darkness. "You know what to do."

Draco tried to fight as his body lifted his wand and his mouth spoke the curse. "Crucio." The heap on the floor screamed and Draco screamed along with it.

"Draco," someone was saying. "Draco." Draco's eyes finally focussed, and he saw Blaise's head poking through the curtains. "Are you okay? You were screaming."

Draco felt embarrassment flood through him. The last thing he needed was his Slytherin peers thinking him weak.

"I'm fine," he snapped. "Leave me alone." Blaise scowled and pulled the curtain shut.

Draco heard Blaise get back into bed and shut his own curtains. He tried to remember the nightmare that had woken him – and the rest of the room – in the middle of the night, but the details were already slipping away. He remembered being in the Manor and the Dark Lord being there. And he remembered the searing pain of the cruciatus curse. He reached for his watch and looked at the time. 4:30. He knew he would never be able to get back to sleep now so he retrieved his book from his bag and settled back in bed to read it.

At breakfast the next morning, Draco ate in silence, barely listening to his friends' conversation. He was aware of them exchanging glances with each other, but nobody mentioned the previous night. As he was eating, he noticed Harry walk into the Great Hall. He watched him as he and his friends made their way through the room. Harry was trailing behind the small group and seemed to be looking along the Slytherin table as he walked – looking for him, Draco realised. Harry finally spotted him, and they made eye contact. There was something intense about it that Draco couldn't place but then Harry looked away and sat down where Draco could no longer see him.

He continued to stare at the place where Harry was last visible until he realised what he was doing and turned back to face his friends. Pansy was watching him, her eyes narrowed. He quickly looked down at his plate, avoiding her gaze.

During defence against the dark arts, Draco found himself glancing at Harry at every chance he got. What surprised him was that a lot of those times Harry was already looking at him. By lunch, Draco was sick of his friends pitying glances so he left them on the way to the Great Hall and instead went to the closest place where he knew he would be free from his classmates: the girls' bathroom on the second floor. He found himself hoping that Harry would somehow find him there, even though last time that happened, he had nearly ended up dead. The corridor was empty when he got there so he easily slipped inside.

"Who's there?" Myrtle floated up out of a cubicle. "Draco?"

"Hello, Myrtle," Draco said, walking over to a sink and looking at his reflection in the mirror. He looked ill. "I'm sorry it's been so long."

Myrtle floated towards him but before she could say anything, the door opened and Harry walked in.

"Harry?" Myrtle said, and if ghosts could blush, she would have been crimson. "Ooh, hello," she giggled. Draco was mortified that he had almost had the same reaction. Internally, of course. Malfoys don't blush or giggle. "Wait," she said, "you two aren't about to fight again are you?"

"Hi, Myrtle," Harry said, walking closer to Draco, who's heart was beating hard. "No, we're not going to fight again." He frowned. "I don't think."

"How did you know I was here?" Draco asked.

"Doesn't matter," Harry said, waving his hand dismissively. "I need to talk to you."

"You wanted to talk to me so desperately that you somehow stalked me from across the castle and then followed me into the bathroom?"

"Yes. Exactly."

Draco signed, trying to cover up his nervousness. "Go on then."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Why did you run away yesterday?" He looked like he was steeling himself for something. "I was enjoying talking to you. Was it something I said?"

"No, no," Draco said. "It wasn't you. I just got"-he paused, trying to think of the right word to use-"emotional."

"There's nothing wrong with being emotional."

"Not for you, maybe, but in pureblood families being emotional means you're weak. There are certain things you have to do to uphold the reputation of the family. Not that my family has a good reputation to uphold anymore."

"Well surely that means you don't have to uphold it anymore, at least," Harry said.

Draco gave a hollow laugh. "I don't think I'll get out of it that easily."

"Out of what exactly?"

"Marriage, mainly," Draco said glumly. "I will have to marry pure and straight-" Shit. He hadn't meant to say that. He clamped a hand over his mouth as a feeling of dread trickled down his spine and he stared at Harry, watching him processing the words and realising what he said. Draco saw his eyes widen slightly and he could've sworn he was almost smiling.

"You're gay?"

Draco didn't say anything. He stared at the floor, his heart beating out of his chest. There was a gasp from behind him and a little giggle. Myrtle was still there. He looked and saw just her head visible above her cubicle.

"Can we go somewhere more private?" Harry said. Draco looked at him but carefully avoided eye contact. He looked happy, which surprised Draco. He had expected repulsion.

"Okay," he mumbled, shame seeping into his bones.

Harry retrieved a blank piece of parchment from his pocket and tapped it with his wand, muttering something Draco couldn't hear. Ink started to appear on the parchment, spreading until it resembled a map with lots of little black dots moving around it. Harry was scanning the map intensely and Draco realised it must be a map of Hogwarts. Harry tapped the map again with his wand, saying something else under his breath, and the ink disappeared, leaving the parchment blank. Draco's interest in the map nearly made him forget what had happened. Nearly.

"Follow me," Harry said, making his way out of the bathroom.

Draco followed Harry along the corridor. He was filled with apprehension. Harry led him into the nearest classroom. His heart was beating. Far too fast. He felt sick. Harry shut the classroom door behind them and perched on a desk. Draco didn't move.

"Is this the part where you say you don't want to be friends with me anymore?" Draco asked, avoiding looking directly at Harry. He tried not to reveal his breathlessness.

"No, it's not. Come and sit here." He was gesturing to the desk next to him. Draco slowly walked towards him, his legs feeling like they would give way at any moment. His heart beating out of his chest. His whole body shaking. His heart skipping beats. A sharp pain stabbed through his chest and he clutched it with both hands. His throat closed up and he couldn't breathe. He gasped. And gasped. And gasped.

"Draco?" Gasp. "Draco, are you okay?" Draco was dimly aware of Harry getting up and placing his hands on Draco's shoulders. Gasp. Gasp. "Draco, it's a panic attack, don't worry." Gasp. "I'm going to try and calm you down, okay?"

He put his bag on a desk and reached deep down into it, rummaging around the very bottom. He pulled out a small vial of blue potion and unstoppered it. "Calming drought. Here, drink it." He handed the vial to Draco and he drank it, managing not to drop it despite how much his hands were shaking.

The potion was warm and travelled slowly down his throat. His breathing gradually evened out and his heart slowed, beating with an even rhythm again. He looked down at the empty vial in his hands and back up at Harry, who was watching him closely.

"I need it sometimes, too," he said, stepping towards Draco and taking the vial from him, his hand lingering on Draco's for far longer than necessary. "That's why I always carry some around with me." He slipped the empty vial into his pocket, not stepping away from Draco.

Harry's face was so close to his that Draco couldn't help but notice his lips. They looked so attractive.

"Draco," he said, then paused, running his hand through his hair. Draco looked into Harry's eyes, his heart beating fast again, but in a good way this time. "Can I…" He trailed off and took a deep breath. "Can I kiss you?" Draco stared at him, almost forgetting to answer. He gulped and nodded and Harry closed the distance between them.

The kiss was soft and tentative and Draco relaxed into it as Harry's hand cupped the side of his face, all his worries momentarily leaving him as his mind focussed solely on Harry's scent – possibly the best thing he had ever smelt.

They broke apart after several long moments. Draco found himself speechless. He hadn't expected that.

"Wow," Harry breathed. They stared at each other for a few moments before Draco snapped back to reality.

"Since when were you gay?" he demanded.

"I'm not. I'm bisexual."

"Oh," Draco said, suddenly feeling awkwardness grow between them.

Harry looked at his watch. "We should go and eat lunch," he said.

"I'll follow in a few minutes."

"Okay. See you later, then." He picked up his bag and made to leave.

"I can't believe you have a map of Hogwarts with people marked on it."

Harry stopped walking and raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? You can't believe it?"

"Actually, never mind, I can believe it."

Harry laughed and left the classroom. Once he was gone, Draco smiled to himself. He hadn't felt this happy in a long time. In fact, he didn't think he had ever felt this happy. He hoped it was time to get used to this feeling in his chest.

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