A.N. Just a cute moment between Harry and Draco during their detention in the forbidden forest in the first book. ^_~

Disclaimer: I only wish I had the unlimited genius of Ms. J.K. Rowling.

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Harry walked through the forbidden forest with Fang at his heels, Malfoy creeping a few feet behind him. He looked around at the dark shapes of the trees surrounding them and wondered at the mysteries this forest held.

"Ahh!" Harry felt something grab his arm and he turned to find Malfoy crouched behind him.

Harry smiled crookedly down at the blond boy, "Scared Malfoy?" He felt a surge of triumph as he saw Malfoy's eyes widen as he looked around before letting go of him.

"No." Malfoy brushed at his arms as if swiping at some invisible grime. "I just thought I heard something. My father said that there are werewolves and centaurs in this forest. He said if a werewolf were stalking you, the only sign you get before it attacks you is the feel of its hot breath on your neck." Glaring at Harry, Malfoy grabbed Fang by the scruff of the neck and dragged him on ahead.

A cool breeze ruffled through Harry's robes as he hurried to catch up with Malfoy. "Malfoy wait!" He caught up and tried to keep pace with the slytherin's rapid steps. Looking over at Malfoy's bent head Harry thought he saw him shivering. Was he cold, or afraid? "Uh.you felt something breathing on your neck, Malfoy? Maybe it was just Fang." When all he received was another glare for his efforts, Harry reached up and scratched his cheek awkwardly. He wished desperately that he could have been sent on this expedition with anyone but Malfoy. Even Neville, who was afraid of his own shadow would have been a better companion. He was supposed to be the famous Harry Potter who had defeated Lord Voldemort while barely one years old and even "he" was scared. If Harry never had to face the dark lord again, it would be fine with him. Malfoy wasn't helping to calm his fears, he just seemed to make things worse.

Malfoy gave him the creeps and now that Malfoy had decided to be his enemy, Harry was just a little worried about the kind of spells the slytherin boy knew. He knew Malfoy had come from a powerful wizard family and he obviously knew more about magic than Harry did. Well, Harry guessed probably most of Hogwarts knew more about magic than he did, considering the family he'd been brought up in. Still, what if.what if he made Malfoy angry? What if Malfoy casted some nasty spell on him way out here, while they were alone together, with only Fang to witness the horrendous act. Could he even hope of fighting back?

"That bloody crack-pot of a giant!" Malfoy was grumbling up ahead. "Wait 'till my father hears about this." Harry knew he shouldn't have said anything. He'd just been thinking about the terrible things Malfoy was probably capable of doing to him out here. "I don't guess it would make much difference if a werewolf attacked you right now, would it Malfoy? Unless your father can appear out of thin air."

Instead of taking out his wand, Malfoy turned and leapt at him. Harry felt himself toppling over onto his back in the damp leaves and then a heavier weight pressing down against his chest and stomach. Then he saw stars as Malfoy's fist connected solidly with his nose. He felt something warm and sticky gush out of his nose and then more pain as Malfoy landed another blow to his mouth.

Harry felt an emotion close to hystarical panic rise up his throat. Years of being bullied by Dudley and his friends had taught him one lesson in defence and one only: run. But Harry couldn't run right now-Malfoy was holding him down and he found that he didn't want to run from this fight. Not from Malfoy. If the slytherin boy was going to fight with his fists, then so could Harry; Malfoy was almost as scrawny as he was.

Trying to roll out from under Malfoy's battering blows, he found that the blond boy was too strong for him. At least with his whole body weight grinding against him. Struggling to get one of his arms up, Harry curled his fist and punched Malfoy's temple as hard as he could.

Malfoy cried out in pain and stopped punching him, but he didn't get off. Grinning down at Harry, Malfoy held Harry's shoulder down with one hand and the side of his head with the other. "You'll regret saying that, Potter. I promise you that." But before he could bring his fist down again, Harry rammed his knee up into Malfoy's stomach and heard a satisfying "oomph!" from his blond haired opponent. Scrambling out from underneath him, Harry stood panting, a hand cupped over his nose and feeling better than he had in days. In a fair fight-well with fists anyway-he was a match for Malfoy. Compared to Dudley, Harry had always seen himself as too small and scrawny to put up much of a fight, but it didn't matter anymore because he was actually a match for his arch rival.

Standing a few feet away, Malfoy crouched almost double, holding his stomach. "You fight like.a girl, Potter." He gasped. Who taught you.how to fight anyway-Weasle?" And with that Malfoy swept his back robes around himself imperiously and stalked off, limping steadily.

Harry stood watching after him for a long time, a strange mixture of emotions churning in his stomach.

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The lone figure of a small boy sat crouched on the otherwise deserted west tower. It was cold tonight and the boy drew his knees up closer to his chest, burying his face against the black fabric that encased them. The open tower was bathed in moonlight and it smoothed the boy's hair in silver and the curve of his cheek with ivory. When Harry found him like this, shivering and curled into a fatal position without his cloak, the image that came to him was of an elf prince who had gotten lost somewhere between his fairy palace and this place of darkness and shadows. It didn't make any sense to Harry that he would think of Malfoy in this light. Malfoy was a slytherin, and the students of slytherin house were known for their use of dark magic. They were dark, they were evil, they were.

"What are you doing up here, Potter?" Malfoy's muffled voice drifted to him across the dark tower.

Harry took a few steps toward the slytherin then stopped. Started forward again and halted again a few feet from where Malfoy still sat curled in on himself. Feeling the same twisted feeling he'd felt earlier this evening, Harry reached up and scratched his cheek again. "I-I wanted to apologize. For what I said I mean." Harry finished lamely.

Was Malfoy crying? Oh bloody all; he was. Harry watched helplessly as Malfoy's slight body shook silently. "Malfoy, I didn't-! I'm sorry, I never meant. I was scared and- Oh hell, Malfoy, I never meant to insult your father like that. He's probably important to you and I-" As the blond continued to shake, Harry gave up trying to make things better with words. He crouched down beside Malfoy and wrapped his arm around his trembling shoulders. Malfoy's body stiffened for half a second then before Harry had even realized what had happened, he'd turned and rested his cheek against Harry's chest.

Trying to keep his mouth from hanging open, Harry tamped down on the urge to either run away as fast as he could or pull Draco closer. Draco?! What was wrong with him? Why was he feeling so.

"I was attacked by a werewolf when I was six. My father was teaching me how to fly out near the woods beyond our manor and I lost control of the broom. I couldn't even get it to land in time, I just crashed right into the middle of the forest. It was dark in there, and there were noises, animal noises and I was scared. But I couldn't run, my leg was broken."

When Malfoy didn't go on, Harry prompted him gently by leaning down and rubbing his jaw against Malfoy's soft hair. "What happened, Draco? You can tell me. I won't tell anyone."

He could feel Malfoy clenching and unclenching his jaw against Harry's front. There was a core of strength beneath this boy's obnoxious attitude that Harry hadn't noticed before now. "There was.there was a pack of werewolves, no, maybe it was only two. But they-tore me up pretty badly. I tried to get away, but they wouldn't let go and I didn't have my wand with me. It was lucky that it was early morning. As soon as the sun came up they left. And I lay there, bleeding and waiting for my father to find me, but he didn't come. He never came."

Silence descended on the two boys and they sat there quietly for long moments, huddled together in cool predawn air, each lost in his own thoughts. Harry felt tears prickling the corners of his eyes and thought that maybe he understood a little why Draco was the way he was.

"Then who did find you, Draco? Don't tell me you had to crawl all the back!"

Malfoy stiffened against him and then suddenly shoved away from him. Leaping to his feet, Malfoy glared down at him, his eyes still red and swollen. "What do you care, Potter?" he spat. "What do you care about anything?"

Confused, Harry slowly pushed to his feet also and took a few tentative steps toward Malfoy. "Draco!"

Malfoy had already turned away, but at his name he whirled around and grabbed Harry by the shirt front. "If you ever," he hissed. "Ever tell anyone about this, I'll-" He didn't finish his sentence, but instead he turned and hurried away, down the tower steps, his threat still hanging in the air.

Harry fingered his shirt where Malfoy had grabbed him, staring off at the space where Malfoy had disappeared. Stared dazedly at the place where his enemy, his rival, his unwitting counterpart, had once stood.