"Ron!" Hermione ran down the corridor, using her books to wedge people aside. "Hold on!"

            Ron's pace increased.  People began to edge to the walls of the hallway, trying to avoid getting bowled over.  Hermione stopped yelling after him and focused on running as quickly as the crippling weight of her bag would allow. 

            When she finally caught up to him and jerked him to a stop she was so out of breath she felt dizzy.  Ron looked no better.  His face was a mottled red and his right eye was twitching funny. 

            "Did you see him?" Ron hissed through his clenched teeth. "Laughing with that ferret faced scumbag?" His hand contracted around his wand.  "And Malfoy's smug smile!" He brandished his wand at the invisible foe.  "I wish I could hex that smirk right off his pretty boy face!" 

            "I know." Hermione said, betrayal flickering in her eyes. Then she sighed and forced Ron's hand to his side, pointing his wand to the floor. "But that is not the way to handle this." 

            "Look, I tried ignoring him, waiting for him to understand what an idiot he was being, but he's not going to!" Ron began waving his wand again. "He looked happy, actually happy!"

            "Yes, he did." Hermione said slowly.   

            "That's why," Ron continued, "He needs me to save him from himself!"  He began striding back to the Great Hall, wand at the ready.  

            "Ron, No!" Hermione yanked him so hard his spun around. "If anything, he needs saving from you!  Think.  When was last time he looked happy?"

            "Er."

"The last time he actually laughed?"

            "Umm…When Neville accidentally burned off Snape's eyebrows in Potions!"

            "All right, fine." Hermione's voice dropped to a hoarse whisper.  "But when was the last time you felt he was actually here and not still in that graveyard with You-Know-Who?"

            "I…I don't know." Ron said finally.

            "Harry looked alive today." She looked beseechingly up at Ron. "Do you want Harry to turn back into that husk he was last summer?"

            "No, of course not!" Ron exclaimed.

            "Then let it alone."

            Ron opened his mouth in protest. "But-"

            "Ron, I know you despise Malfoy, but is he worth losing Harry over?"

            Ron said nothing.  He pressed his lips so hard together they turned white, but he remained silent.  

Hermione smiled slightly at this. "I thought not." She put her arm through his and then dragged him back to the common room to collect their books.     

(**~**~**)

Draco stared at the small pile of envelopes in front of him.  He reached up a hand and brushed aside the latest edition of the Daily Prophet and a bill from Madame Malkins to reveal a white envelope with elegantly slanted handwriting on it.  

            His father's handwriting.  He shot a glance down the table at his former protectors, who looked smug.  Knowing as he did their limited emotional repertoire he knew they had owled Lucius.  Good.  Beside him he could feel Harry shift, curious, but Draco spared him only a fleeting glance before picking up the letter.  He forced himself to slowly open it.  Prying the letter from the envelope's stiff white lips, he unfolded the thick parchment. 

      Dear Draco,

               

Everything at home is as usual.  Our Christmas was spent in Paris with some business associates of mine.  The Phoenix feather quill you gave me was an acceptable gift, for once.  Your mother wishes to send her thanks along for the earrings you sent her. Hope your Christmas was not as atrocious as I have imagined. 

                                                                                    Lucius                         

            Draco risked a glance at Harry who was unashamedly reading over his shoulder, looking puzzled.

"I don't get it.  Doesn't he know?" Harry asked.

"I thought so." Draco replied, sending another glance at Crabbe and Goyle, who were mouthing things like "fag" and "you're in trouble" down the table.

Sometimes he hated coming from a Slytherin family.  At least if his father had been a Gryffindor, he would have simply sent him a howler about how sick and depraved he thought he was.  Instead he got a couple of enigmatic sentences.  Not a word about him and Harry, not even a veiled threat! He glanced again at Dumb and Dumber, whose self-satisfaction was fading into the more common "I have the mental capacity of a two year old!" expressions they usually wore.  They, as usual, had no idea what was going on.

What was his father playing at? Even if his relationship with Harry had not been made public Draco would have been suspicious.  Lucius was almost…civil.  He hadn't mentioned a word about Draco's failings or Malfoy honor.   Draco's stomach twisted against itself.  Slytherins could be real bitches sometimes. 

Harry watched Draco's stoic demeanor, admiration and frustration warring within him. 

"Are you alright?" he ventured.

"Yes." Draco said simply. 

Harry's eyes took in Draco's tense form and snorted.  Although his voice was perfectly calm, he was clearly uneasy.  Harry felt the urge to shake Draco and scream "Could you STOP being so emotionally sterile?"  He didn't.  He just watched Draco read the Daily Prophet as though nothing was wrong.  Harry's resentment simmered and inside his robes Harry's wand leaked sparks in reaction to his anger.

(**~**~**)

Harry made his way to his corner of Charms prepared to face another lesson with nothing to occupy himself but Professor Flitwick's dubious teaching ability.  For lack of something better to do he opened up his textbook and began reading up on the Hair Growth charm they were working on.  When he heard someone move next to him he kept reading, bracing himself for another set of snide comments by one of his classmates. 

"Harry," a familiar voice said.

Harry jerked up, startled.  No one but Draco had called him Harry since their relationship had become the number one fodder for the gossip mill a week ago.  He had almost become used to answering to "Potty Pouf" and "Boy-Who-Fucks-Other-Boys."

"Ron…"Harry drew back, wary.

"Hey…" Ron gave a sheepish smile.  "Can I sit here?"

Harry shot a glance to Hermione, who was smiling softly.

"Oh! Sure." Harry said, a grin lighting up his face.

Hermione shook her head, her brown eyes misting up as she watched them make hesitant conversation. Boys were such idiots sometimes.  Adorable, but idiots

(**~**~**)

Draco waited for Harry, leaning against a wall with deliberate casualness.  He and Harry had begun meeting here everyday before lunch.  They usually discussed classes and shared a quick snog before walking into the Great Hall together.  Draco was, therefore, seriously displeased when he saw Granger and Weasley walking with Harry down the hall towards him.  A light that glittered in his eyes dimmed and the slight smile on his lips hitched and froze.    

Fuck.  The Weasel must have forgiven him.  Jealousy blew through him and the desire to off the redhead overwhelmed all other thoughts in his head.  When Harry flashed him an elated smile and gave a cheerful wave Draco felt himself begin to tremble.  He inhaled deeply and tried to cleanse his mind of the venomous emotions pumping through him.  He forced his mouth to unclench and curve into a calculating smile.  He glided purposely towards Harry and after flashing an arrogant smile at Ron, kissed him passionately on the mouth.

Harry responded immediately, but after a few seconds jerked away.  "Draco…" he pursed his slick lips, looking pointedly at Ron, who had managed to turn green and red at the same time, and Hermione, who was placing a restraining hand on the redhead's arm. 

"Oh!" Draco exclaimed apologetically. "I didn't notice you two."

Confusion flickered in Harry's eyes before they lit up determinedly.  "Draco, Ron and Hermione are going to eat with us.  Isn't that great?"

"Wonderful." Draco replied in a voice that said it was anything but. 

"Draco, are you okay?" Harry asked, although he knew what Draco's answer was-.    

"Yes." And there it was.

Harry gave out a frustrated sigh. "Fine."

"Well, I'm starved!" Hermione interjected. "Let's head in, shall we?" She grabbed hold of Ron and dragged him down the hall, a bright smile on her face.

Draco and Harry followed, Harry every so often sending questioning looks to Draco, who pointedly ignored them.

(**~**~**)

"So, Ron, how's your family?" Draco said, an expression of polite interest on his face. 

Ron looked up from the sandwich he was devouring. "They're…fine." He said swallowing.

"Good." After giving Draco one more suspicious glance Ron took a long sip of his pumpkin juice, still keeping his eyes on Draco.

"So, what are you planning on doing after Hogwarts?"

"Becoming an Auror." Ron said slowly.

"Oh. Are you going to go straight in to Auror training or take a year off?" Before Ron could reply Draco continued on. "Wait, I guess you can't, really."

"Why…not?" Ron ground out, although it was clear from his aggravated expression, that he knew exactly why.

"Well I just figured you'd have to support your family." Draco smiled, a trace of pity lining his face.  Ron smiled back, a touch of murder in his eyes. 

"So Mal-Draco," Hermione broke in. "What are you planning on doing?"

"Oh, become the next junior Death Eater and slaughter thousands of innocent muggles and mudbloods."  He smiled and his teeth glinted like miniature razors.

Harry groaned and placed his hands on his temples, waiting for his life to fall apart again. 

"You're kidding, right?" Ron said, a wrinkle creasing the skin between his eyebrows. 

"Maybe." Draco said, still smiling. Harry stared intently into his eyes, but couldn't see the truth in them.

Ron's mouth opened to spray invective all over the smirking blond. His jaw clenched however, and he shoved his sandwich in his mouth, pulverizing the hapless BLT.

(**~**~**)

When they finally left the hall Harry felt the beginnings of a massive headache growing behind his eyes.  The urge to shake Draco until his insides rattled surged with the beat of his pulse, which was growing more frantic.  He couldn't understand it.  What had happened to the Draco who had gotten food out of the kitchens for him and teased him with a smile hovering about his lips?  He had reverted back to the prat it had been so easy to hate, and Harry could feel himself succumbing to the urge. 

"Ron," Draco said casually. "Still forced to wear hand-me-downs?" Ron choked.

            "If you wanted," Draco continued. "I could always give you some of my old robes. They'd probably fit you."  

            Ron snapped.  He leapt for the blonde, fully prepared to strangle him now and apologize to Harry later.  He was prevented by Harry, who dragged Draco around the corner and into a little used hallway, away from Ron's sight.  As he tugged Draco away he could hear Hermione frantically trying to calm Ron down. 

"What are you doing?" Harry hissed.

            "What do you mean?" Draco objected, eyes wide. "I was trying to make conversation."

            Harry snorted. "You were trying to get under his skin!"

            "I suppose asking about his cheap clothing was a little rude, but what else was I suppose to talk about?"

A migraine began to throb through Harry's head.  Why had he thought that life would get easier after people got used to the idea of him and Draco as a couple?  It was turning into something with a close resemblance to hell. 

             "Draco, why are you acting like this?" Harry asked softly.

            "Acting like what?" Draco protested, his eyes shifting away from Harry's intense green gaze. 

            "Like the bratty first-year I used to hate." Harry snapped.

            Panic flickered through Draco's eyes before being quickly masked. "I don't know what you're talking about." He said quickly and stepped forward so that his and Harry's robes brushed against each other. 

            Harry backed away.  Draco's eyes flickered again. "Harry," he stepped forward. "Why won't-" Harry stepped away again, "you let me get close-" Draco stepped in so close his next words fogged up Harry's glasses, "to you?"

            "Because," Harry shoved Draco away, "I need to think."

            "You do?" Draco grinned.

            "Yes." Harry stated, crossing his arms over his chest.

            "Why?" Draco said, a licentious smirk on his face.

            "Because I would like to have a discussion that doesn't end in snogging or anything sexual."

            "Where's the fun in that?" Draco teased and again tried to touch Harry. 

            "That's what I mean!" Harry exclaimed, warding off Draco's advances. "You always try-"  Draco got through. 

            Harry might have completely forgotten about, well, everything if it hadn't been for Draco's smug smile.  That smile irritated Harry so much that his addled mind cleared just enough for him to get a good three feet away from the blonde. 

            "Draco!" he exclaimed. "Stop!" 

            Draco shook his head, worried determination in his eyes.

            Harry could feel impotent rage building inside of him.  Being mad at Draco was a hell of lot more annoying when you were in love with him.  It robbed him of the ability to punch him, so instead he just fended off Draco's hands, slowly backing down the hallway.  Draco followed, his eyes glinting in the amber light of the passage. 

            "DRACO STOP!" Harry shouted, "DON'T TOUCH ME!"

            Draco suddenly found himself pushed up against the wall of the corridor.  Harry's hands were like manacles around his wrists and his legs like a vice around his own limbs. Draco's head jerked from his hands, which were already turning white from lack of blood flow to Harry's face, which was a study in restrained anger.

"Harry what-" Hermione and Ron ran down the hallway, stopping when they saw the restrained Slytherin. "Oh dear."

            Normally, Harry's close proximity would have caused that damned ever-present lust to blaze through him but now all Draco wanted to do was shrink into the wall.  Just get away from Harry.  Away from his eyes that said he had looked into Draco's soul and hadn't liked what he'd found there.  Eyes that said his father was right.  He was a coward. And a million other things besides. 

            "Harry, It's great you're into bondage and all, but could we try this some other time?" Draco whispered, a confident grin attempting to cover his anxiety. 

            "No."

            "What!" Draco hissed, echoed by Hermione.

            "Not until you answer for the way you've been acting lately." 

            "Harry…" Draco sent a pointed glance to Ron and Hermione, who looked as though they longed to be anywhere, even in Potions class, then watching him and Harry argue. "Don't."

            Harry stared stonily at Draco. Draco tried to furtively test Harry's grip around him only to feel nails pinch his skin.

            "Harry," Draco finally said. "I promise I will, but later.  Just…please let me go." He stared at the floor beneath him intently.

            After a moment Draco felt Harry's hands and legs unwrap from around him.  He resisted the urge to rub his hands or check for the bruises that would be forming on his white skin.  

            "Thank you, Harry."  He whispered, forcing his gray eyes up to Harry's clouded green. Oh God, he felt like vomiting. 

            "Harry," Hermione said hesitantly. " I hate to interrupt, but we really need to get to class."  Her eyes darted to the hallway, which was now empty of all but a few stragglers. 

            Harry seemed to come out of a reverie and stepped away from Draco as though he were on fire. He looked down at his hands, turning them in the dim light as though not quite sure they were actually his. 

            "Draco, can we meet in the classroom after dinner?" His voice was troubled. "We need to talk about this." His eyes fixed on his hands again. Then they looked at Draco's, which were indented in crescent lines and already purpling.

            "Harry, come on!" Ron shouted. 

            The black-haired boy's remorseful eyes flashed over Draco's once before turning to his friends "I'm coming!" He called. "You'll be there, right?"

Draco nodded once and watched Harry and his two friends rush down the hall to Historyof Magic.  He had Herbology next, but didn't feel up to spouting off the Latin names of the Prickly and Poisonous family with any accuracy. 

He headed down the hallway quickly, eager to get out of the passageway.  He needed to walk.  Motion prevented thought.  As he strided down the corridor he kept his eyes locked in front of him.  Looking at the hallway walls made his stomach clench. 

Once he was free of the stifling atmosphere of the castle he allowed himself to reflect on what had just happened.

            He had said 'please' to Harry.  And 'thank you.' With that gloating Weasel watching.  It couldn't be helped, though.  Not with Harry boring down on him like an avenging angel.  Draco began walking a little faster to dispel that particular memory.

            What was he going to do when he saw Harry tonight? There was no way Harry could be fobbed off with banal excuses.  Not unless Draco wanted to end up against a wall again.  But telling Harry exactly why he'd been such a git would mean that Harry would know absolutely how petty and childish he was.  Harry had rejected him once because of a crack about that damn Weasel's family, what would he do if he knew that Draco would gladly get Ron expelled, just so Harry wouldn't be distracted by him? 

But maybe it was for the best.   After all, he had originally planned to dump Harry when his father found out about them.

And Harry was a bad influence.  All that smiling and laughing.  If he kept seeing Harry he might end up being happy, something that would never last and end up being all the more painful when it ended.  Really, it was much better to end things now, when he had a chance of forgetting about Harry.

So he would tell Harry the truth, Harry would be horrified that he had ever even touched such a fucked up human being and things would return to normal.  Being alone was much safer, Draco reasoned.  And it was only the wind that was making his eyes water.