Disclaimer: I'm not J.K.R...Thanks for noticing.

Warning: SLASH...yummy

Dedication: This one's for Cole

A/N: Thanks so much to my beta, truthfulchaos, you rock, love ya doll.

The 'Not so Golden Boy': The Distant Boy

Harry quietly made his way up to Gryffindor tower under the protection of his cloak. He crept into bed in the 7th year dormitories. Placing an illusive charm on his bed (making it look to anyone else that he was asleep), he rolled over on his side and watched the door.

Hermione and Ron came in awhile later. "Harry?" Ron called.

Hermione shushed him, "He's asleep."

Ron looked rather upset. "What's been up with him lately? I mean, he's never lost a game, and he's been so..."

"Distant," Hermione finished, looking at what she thought was Harry's sleeping face. "I don't know. I mean, I could understand it after Sirius died, but that was over a year ago."

"I wish he would talk to us." Ron kicked some clothes on the floor and sat on his own bed.

"He'll come to us when he's ready," she said, more to assure herself than Ron.

Harry closed his eyes as his scar began to burn, not as intensely as it does in the meetings, but he figured something must be happening with Voldemort. He wanted to run to Blaise, to tell him that Draco had seen the Dark Mark, but he still wasn't sure who he could trust. After all, he had trusted Hermione and Ron and they had told everything he'd ever said to Dumbledore.

He never did get a chance to try and resurrect Sirius, because Ron went and opened his big mouth to Hermione, who in turn told Dumbledore.

So what if Blaise told Pansy, and Pansy told Voldemort, would Harry get in trouble, or would Draco?

There was one solution.

Lucius.

He seemed trustworthy; he wouldn't want anything to happen to Draco, right?

Harry moaned, his head aching, and decided to take a sleeping draft. It was the only way he could sleep these days.

Harry woke up screaming the following morning.

"Harry?" Ron shot up in bed. Seamus, Dean and Neville all looked just as concerned.

Harry jumped out of bed, head throbbing, arm burning, pulled his Death Eater robes from his trunk and ran out of the room, out of Gryffindor tower, and shot down the stairs, only to be stopped by none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Potter, we need to talk."

"Not... now, Malfoy." Harry could barely speak through the pain.

Draco didn't fail to notice. "He's calling you, isn't he?"

"Shut-up!" Harry crouched on the floor in pain.

"Potter-"

Next thing Draco knew, Harry was doubled over on the floor, unconscious.

Checking to see no one was around, Draco picked Harry up and carried him to his room.

"Where is he?" Pansy asked impatiently. "We can't wait forever."

Blaise watched the castle from where they stood in the forest, they weren't allowed to be seen porting in the daylight. "It's not like him to be late. Do you think..."

The burning in both their arms became more persistent. "We have to go," Pansy said. "NOW!"

Blaise took one last look at the grounds before nodding.

Draco had laid Harry down on his bed. The blonde had requested a private room when the Slytherin's talk of the Dark Lord and becoming Death Eaters proved to be too much. Snape, wanting to protect him, fulfilled the request.

Now Draco dabbed at Harry's forehead with a cold cloth.

He noticed how pale and sickly the Gryffindor had gotten, but it wasn't until he removed Harry's shirt that he saw how skinny he was. He put Harry's pajama top, and the robes he'd been carrying on the nightstand, then he ran the cloth over his chest.

"Wake up, Potter," he pleaded.

Then he noticed the tattoo on Harry's left forearm. A skull with a snake through it. Draco shivered, it was glowing black. He remembered that was how Voldemort called them.

The blonde ran his pale fingers over the mark.

Harry moaned, "D-don't touch it."

Draco drew his hand back. "You passed out in the hall," he informed Harry.

The raven-haired teen rolled over and clutched his stomach. "It hurts," he muttered. "Everything hurts."

"Do you want me to get-"

"No!" Harry half screamed half whined. "No one can know." He took in a deep breath and shut his eyes.

"Harry, there has to be someone who can help."

"Why do you care?"

"Because even you don't deserve this kind of pain."

Harry paused in thought for a moment. "Your dad," he rasped.

"Lucius?"

"He said... if I ever... needed anything... to..." Harry fell unconscious again before he could finish.

"Dammit!"

The only way Draco knew how to contact his father was by owl. He scrawled a note on a scrap piece of parchment. "Find Lucius," he told the owl.

A brown barn owl flew in through the window at the Riddle house and landed on Lucius Malfoy's shoulder.

"Malfoy?" Voldemort asked from where he sat.

Lucius shrugged, taking the parchment from the owl's leg. "It's from Harry," he lied. "He was called to Dumbledore's office... it doesn't say what about."

Voldemort nodded. "Go make sure it's not about the Order... or better yet, Potter's loyalties."

Lucius bowed as he left the room, then he Apparated outside of the Hogwarts gates.

He stopped to look over the note again:

Lucius,

Potter's hurt... need help.

-Draco

Lucius shook his head then headed into the castle.

"I never realized how severe this was," Lucius said after doing a once over on Harry. "Give him this when he wakes up again." He handed a vial to his son. "It's a numbing potion; it'll help him stay conscience."

Draco nodded, placing the potion next to the bed.

"Draco, no one can know about Harry, and honestly, since you do it would be best if you were to-"

"Father, you know my position on this. Neutral until convinced otherwise."

Lucius scowled. "Well I have to go make up some reason why Harry wasn't in the meeting today. Owl me when he wakes up."

And he was gone.

Draco sighed and made his way out of the dungeons and to the kitchens. Harry would probably be hungry when he woke up and Draco was now.

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