Before I get started, I know the chapters are gradually becoming more detailed, this is because I started the fic with the intention of it being a short fic. I guess the idea just evolved.

DISCLAIMER: I would just like assure you that your reviews make a huge difference to the quality of the story. All together now...I don't own Harry Potter, JKR does. If you feel you need to flame, please do. I find them amusing. Hell, just enjoy!

continuing from last chapter, Dumbledore speaking to Harry and Malfoy in his office...

'In July, that is to say, on Harry's birthday, you will both be proceeding by broomstick to the Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire. You will complete a search of the manor to ascertain whether or not Lord Voldemort has taken up residence anywhere, or whether he is remaining mobile. Wherever he is, you will find him and carefully follow these instructions:' Dumbledore drew a small glass vial from his robes, containing a glittering silver liquid. 'This is the last remaining elixir of life. With it I will try to invoke an ancient magic of which no-one really knows. Once you have tracked down Lord Voldemort, I am counting on him attempting to kill you. I know how it sounds but you must follow these instructions to the letter. How you do it is up to you, but you must ensure that Lord Voldemort performs the Avada Kedavra curse on this Elixir.

As I was saying a few moments ago the course of action most likely to succeed is to lure him to kill you. Then to use those reflexes gifted to you, and honed so well by Quidditch, to place this vial in the way of the curse.

When the two most powerful opposites in existence meet, the performers of those opposites will be stripped of all the power they possess. I will simplify; when Lord Voldemort kills the Elixir of Life, both he and Nicholas Flamel will become mortal, non-magical human beings. You will then be able to kill Lord Voldemort and fulfil the prophecy. But be warned Harry; because of the delicate balance of this phenomenon, and the disruption to the essence of magic itself, to kill Lord Voldemort in any other way than that of a mortal death would be catastrophic. You must kill Lord Voldemort without magic, Harry.'

Every word Dumbledore had said up until then had grown quieter. He shook his head, then continued in a clearer voice;

'Everything up to that point will be aided by Mr Malfoy here. He is the only student in this school who is an accomplished Occlumens' –He flashed a smile- 'You didn't seem to learn much with Professor Snape, maybe Draco can bring out the best in you. He also has extensive knowledge of the darker side of magic and the culture of the people who use it.

Everyone in the Order knows of my plan, but no-one else does, so please don't mention it,' here he looked directly into Harry's eyes 'to anyone. Now I'm sure I will see you boys later, but I have a busy day tomorrow so if that's all?'

His only answer was silence.

'Excellent, then I shall bid you good evening.' He showed them out of his office then disappeared back into it. Dumbledore had hinted that Harry was not to tell Ron and Hermione of the plan, so going back to the Gryffindor tower seemed a very daunting prospect to Harry right now.

'Er, Draco?'

'Yeah?'

'D'you, er, fancy a walk?'

Draco looked straight into Harry's eyes and seemed to see his predicament there.

'Sure'

They talked as they walked, talking about anything and everything, walking for hours – not going anywhere in particular. Fate was kind to them that night; they saw nothing of Filch nor Mrs Norris. They talked about each other's less-than-desirable upbringings, thoughts and feelings. He suspected that it was the same for Draco, but Harry talked about everything he had ever thought about or felt about that night. At midnight Harry felt he knew Draco better than he knew Ron – he had certainly told Draco things he had never told Ron before. He didn't know why he and Ron had never had talks like this before (and though his brain loyally stood up for Ron, his heart knew it was probably because Ron wasn't the brightest star in the sky) but why was he talking like this to Draco Malfoy? This wasn't the Draco he knew, that was why. This was a man who, despite his sincerest efforts, did think, and did feel.. then Draco asked him the thing he had been half-expecting all night:

'Harry?'

'Uh-huh?'

'Can you remember your parents?' Harry stopped walking and looked at Draco. Why did he find Draco so approachable on the subject?

'I don't actually remember them at all. nothing good anyway...'

'What d'you mean?'

'All I can remember is that night. My Dad standing to fight Voldemort to give my Mum time to run for it, my mum refusing to move, begging Voldemort to kill her instead.' Harry felt a great movement inside him, his eyes pricked.

'Do you cry about them?' Rita Skeeter. How could he be quoting that old article now?

'No.'

'D'you need to?'

He knew. Draco knew and he understood. He understood how much it hurt... Something broke inside Harry. Like a great wall it smashed, letting the emotion welling behind it to flood forwards. It was something he had never done before, but it came. He cried. He cried about his parents, his childhood, Dudley's bullying, everything that had happened since he came to Hogwarts, the stress of being the constant centre of attention, and Sirius. All the while Draco was there, holding him, knowing, understanding, comforting. Harry wept into Draco's arms, and when it was over they drew apart.

'Thanks Draco, I think I needed that.'

'I know. I do think you need to go to bed now, though.'

'Yeah, I s'pose.'

At the entrance to the Fat Lady's corridor Draco paused. 'Listen Harry, she doesn't like me, she'll only get me bollocked for being out late.'

'K, fair enough.'

'I'm always here okay?'

'Yeah.' He kissed Draco goodnight and made to leave. Then it registered; HE KISSED DRACO GOODNIGHT!

'Oh my god Draco, I'm sorry!'

'Why?' Draco was looking very softly at him.

'What?'

'Harry, if I didn't like it you'd know.'

'I didn't mean to, it was just natural.'

'You wanna do it again?' Harry was stunned by this offer, but when words found their way unbidden past his lips he knew they spoke the truth;

'Hell yeah.'

When he stumbled into bed 5 minutes later, he nearly fell straight to sleep fully clothed. The only problem was that every time he moved, something crackled. He drew a piece of parchment from his pocket, a piece of parchment he didn't remember being there. It was a small scrap, with sweeping black letters on it: "You are not alone, Draco"

Harry woke up next morning to find Ron talking to him.

'...glad we did that homework yesterday, I can have a nice relaxing Sunday now. What's that?' Harry was still clutching Draco's letter.

'Nothing' he went to stow the letter back in his pocket.

'No come on, what is it?' Ron snatched the parchment and scanned it, then dropped the parchment and looked at Harry with a hostility in his eyes Harry had never seen there before.

'I think you'd better tell me what the fuck's going on.'

'Ron...'

'Why have you got a parchment from Malfoy?'

'Ron listen...'

'Why the fuck are you sleeping with it?'

'Ron let me explain...'

'What's between you two?'

'Ron please...'

'Why didn't I know?'

'No no, it's not...'

'Is this why you let him sit with us in Defence?'

'Come on Ron, listen to me...'

'What does "You are not alone" mean?'

'It means there's someone out there who understands me!' Harry's temper, which had been drastically subdued by Ron's onslaught, rose again.

'I understand you!'

'Understands what I need!'

'Malfoy?' asked Ron incredulously.

'Draco!'

'Oh, Draco now, is it? Well why don't you run off and cry to Draco!'

'I did.' said Harry quietly.

'...and while – WHAT?'

'I said I did.' Ron merely stood, looking gobsmacked. 'For the first time in my life I cried. Draco was there, he held me.'

'He WHAT?'

'He HELD ME! You know what? Hermione was right last year, you do have the emotional range of a teaspoon!' With that he stormed out of the dormitory, slamming the door with all his strength. Everyone in the common room stopped what they were doing and looked up at the noise.

'What?' he shouted forcibly, and the activity resumed. The door behind him exploded, covering Harry with splinters. Ron stepped through the wreckage, red in the face and in a towering temper.

'Don't you lose your fucking rag with me, Potter!'

'Oh, fuck off Ron.' He turned away and started down the stairs. He felt Ron's hand on his shoulder and stepped away, shoving Ron's arm off as he did so. The only problem was that "off" meant "down the stairs" – all the way down the stairs.

As he surveyed the damage before him, and the crowd of people clamouring round Ron's unconscious body, only one word was necessary to sum up Harry's opinion of the situation – 'Shit.'

So how was that then? Lot's of raw emotions in this chap I know, but don't worry, bad-ass Harry will be back! I don't purposefully finish with cliff-hangers I promise!

Criticism is always welcome. In fact the more people rr the better, even if it's negative.

I know the chapters are very short, but I'm foregoing long chapters in favour of more frequent updates. Coming up: The aftermath, and a nice surprise.