A THOUSAND AND ONE THANKS TO my lovely and oh-so-cherished REVIEWERS;

AngelEyes3405, yeah you were! Thanks a lot! Uhm, you'll have to wait a bit to get more on the Azure. It's not in writing yet, but it will be. I'm going to post them so that I'll have a chance to write more in the meantime, you won't have to wait so long in the end then.
Creativeangel, Wow! That's awesome! Thanks!
Raithen, love you as always. You're the one I couldn't do without. Beta sounds nice.
Starfire Sharon, Nice to know you liked it. If you were Draco and some precious thing of yours disappeared the first day of winter break, when all your friends had gone and your arch-nemesis was still around – who'd you blame?

Now, onward!

CHAPTER 2 – In The Slytherin Dungeons

"You will not be in our dormitory! Check the first-years dorms if you want to, but I'll have no perverted Gryffindork sniffing my bed-sheets," Malfoy roared. Harry Potter was white with withheld anger.

"I never wanted to help you in the first place, Malfoy, so keep your mouth shut. Snape and McGonagall said that we search, so you know what we're going to do, wool-brains?" Harry snarled at him. "We search! I don't want to come close to your bed anyway, I'd rather have my own, 'cause I'm pretty fucking tired and I really don't feel like running errands for the Mighty Malfoy," he said, making the last words a drip with sarcasm. Then he turned, opened the door and walked into the neat and tidy sixth- and seventh-years' dormitory of House Slytherin. He was followed by skilful swearing and the heavy thumps of Draco Malfoy's delicate feet as he sourly walked into the room. As Harry bluntly opened a wardrobe and bent to begin the search there was a muffled cry from Draco, followed by the quick thuds of his feet as he ran to Harry and pulled him away from the wardrobe.

"You fucking little brat, no one said you could just walk around and do as you pleased!"

"Would you rather never find this cute little stone-thinghie of yours Malfoy? What if it's in one of those wardrobes, you thick-skin troll asshole?!" Harry yelled with all the might his tired lungs could give.

"If I'm thick-skinned then you could break up mountains with your head, you jelly-brains son of a bitch," Draco fumed, his cheeks growing slightly reddened with anger.

"Snake-loving dungeon rat!" Harry retorted, keeping his tired eyes and body up with pure force of will.

"You ass-licking freak of a mudblood!" Draco's comment obviously made something snap in Harry's head, for in seconds the Gryffindor had hurled his body against the somewhat smaller Slytherin with the might of his anger. Draco braced for impact but nonetheless ended up on the ground, kicking and punching at "the Potter-boy" with a frenzy quite unlike him.

"Get off me, you fucking jerk," Draco screamed.

"Take that back or I'll slit your throat, Malfoy," Harry growled as they rolled through the big dormitory, hitting the furniture as often as each other. Harry got a punch to hit Draco's stomach, which made the blonde cry out and headbutt his chest, with a satisfying moan from Harry's side. Harry in turn grabbed Draco's blonde hair as Draco used his well-manicured nails to scratch red marks in the other boy's skin. Bedposts were cracking, the carpet was almost torn in a few places, Harry's glasses lay shattered in a corner of the room and the two were standing up, locked in a position where neither wanted to be the first to let go, dragging each other back and forth, kicking and wrestling with all their might.

Then Draco stumbled.

Harry felt the young man lose his balance as he backed into a four-poster's short side, falling backwards and dragging Harry with him. With the last powers he had, he tried to push away. The grip loosened, but before Harry could catch his balance again, the loss of sleep that had been bothering him for weeks overpowered him and he fell, hitting his head hard against Malfoy's.

The desperation in Draco Malfoy's eyes was something seldom seen in a Slytherin, and exceptionally rare to come from a Malfoy. He was lying on... a quick count of beds made it Blaise Zabini's. Blaise, who was currently lying severely cursed in St. Mungos and it looked as if, as per usual with Dark Arts-stuff like that, the curse was irreversible. Harry frigging Potter, the wonder boy, had fallen asleep, banging into Draco's head in the process. A head that now definitely hurt. And not only had he fallen asleep, he had managed to do so on top of Draco! The situation was unbearable. He tried to move, but the little brat of a Gryffindor was too heavy.

"Thank Merlin Crabbe and Goyle left for home by mid-day... I got to get out of this... uwaaah... position..." He snarled at the Hero Boy's sleeping face. "You're lying on me, get off of me and start looking for my Azure!" This was embarrassing. And it could get worse. For three days now had he been without the Azure Tear, vital to him not just because it was a family treasure passed down from his mother... unlike most wished to believe it was not the heirloom of the Malfoy family, but a part of the deceased Narcissa Malfoy's heritance. He swallowed the pain that welled up in his chest as he admitted to himself that his parents in fact were very much dead. Draco Malfoy had never known what it meant to be the son of Narcissa, he had never had to handle the fact that his mother was half-Veela, and that thus he himself... oh Merlin, if he just could reach his wand he could levitate this bastard off of him and continue the search. But the wands had been dropped somewhere during the fight and now he, Draco Malfoy, the heir of the great and proud Malfoy family, was lying below his arch-rival, mister Harry James Potter, trying hard to breathe. He sighed and tried to shift position in the bed, which in turn only led to some rather embarrassing parts of Mr. Potter pressing against him. "Oh Merlin," Draco Malfoy whined. "Get me out of this!"

And the Hero Boy whimpered silently in his sleep, grabbing a hold of Draco's robes. The blonde boy was taken aback. Potter was grabbing his clothing? Potter is ruining my clothing, most certainly, Draco thought angrily. Why couldn't... the thought was interrupted as the young Malfoy realised something very strange. Harry Potter, miracle boy of Hogwarts, Dumbledore's fearless pride of a Golden Boy, who always managed to land on his feet, somehow... was silently crying. His face was a grimace of pain and anguish as he rose up on hands and knees, head hanging and obviously sleeping still. Draco was just about to try and use the new space to wriggle free as he heard it.

"MALFOY!" The raven-haired young boy howled like a lost wolf in pain. Draco tried to bury himself in Blaise's bed. He had never realised how scary Potter could be. Then he shrugged. A Malfoy was never scared. He looked up at the Boy Who Lived, suspiciously, uncertain of whether he just imagined seeing the boy's eyes move back and forth below his eyelids in a panic-stricken way.

"You're insane, Potter," Draco muttered as Harry started to writhe, mumbling to himself.

"No... Stop it, Voldemort..." The name made the Malfoy shudder. He wasn't sure he realised that this little Gryffindor idiot had really killed the great Voldemort. Not that Draco had ever felt anything but hatred for the man who had ruined his life. He had never wanted to be a Death Eater, and he found it definitely reassuring that the mark had never been burned into his left forearm. That would have marked his beautiful self forever. Draco sighed.

"Get off me, Potter, would you?"

"No... Narcissa," the sleeping boy mumbled, making Draco once again listen carefully. What did Harry Potter know about his mother? "Narcissa, stop it!" Harry whined. "No sacrifices, you have a son, for Merlin's sake, don't forget your son!" The last words were shouted in panic and Draco Malfoy, thinking he had already experienced enough for one day, had his eyes wide open and was breathing heavily.

"Holy Raistlin, Potter," the pale boy whispered, "what do you know?" In his sleep, Harry seemed to react to the words.

"You knew you could never win against him, Narcissa, why did you try? And he killed you." The expression on Harry's face changed from lonely to terrible, as he hissed. "Voldemort... for my own sake, for Neville's... for everyone whose family you've spoiled, even Draco's... you'll die." The young man's black, unruly hair fell down like waves on both sides of Harry's face, and as he muttered something unheard under his breath he began to cry in silence once more, falling down on the bed and on the mystified, alarmed and now also breathless Draco. And he whispered: "Mother... father..." And then something that made Draco's eyes go even wider than before, his heart seemingly stopping dead in its tracks, his mind in greater disarray than ever before. Why would Harry ask his, Draco Malfoy's, own mother such a thing? Why? The question that had been whispered in his ear resounded like thunder in his head: Could you really... can a Malfoy love, Narcissa?

Draco turned his face to Harry's, who had fallen slightly to the side this time. The sleeping face was a mask of determination mixed with fright and fury. He lifted a hand that had been freed as Harry fell, to brush away some of the uncontrollable hair from the face that obviously had seen too much.

"You will tell me why, Harry Potter. I will not back off until I know why." Sighing, lacking the energy to push the other boy off himself, Draco Malfoy fell asleep.

Hours later, Harry Potter woke up in an unfamiliar dormitory, lying on top of Draco Malfoy – something that made him flinch. And his body, mostly his head, hurt like living hell.

"Ow," he whined quietly. "Got me there, Draco, didn't you?" He grinned at the young man beneath him for a second, before he realised that the Malfoy was pained. Greatly, if the expression on his face could be accounted for. Harry rolled off him, but didn't feel like getting up. Draco's breath eased as Harry moved away, but his face grew rather more desperate than relieved. Harry pulled his hands through his tousled hair, watching the Slytherin toss and turn in the bed for minutes.

What am I supposed to do? The thought interrupted Harry's silent studying of the sleeping blonde. I can't leave him like this, can I? He's a pain in the ass, that's for sure, but he just lost his parents and... The images tried to flood into his brain again, but this time he would not let them, holding everything back. And this Tear-thing, though it seems the problem of that one's mostly that it's a valuable. Those Malfoys – sneaky and greedy, the lot of them. But somehow he couldn't believe his own thought, as he watched over the Malfoy in question. In a protecting way that he believed the other man would not have appreciated, if awake, Harry extended his hand to take Draco's. It seemed to calm him, in some way. Weird, really... never thought I'd be comforting a lonely Malfoy, that's just plain scary. But was it? Not really, he admitted to himself. It was a kind of good feeling, knowing that even this thick-brained, over-confident bastard had his weak moments. That wasn't a really nice thought, his conscience whispered to him. Only, I don't care, he thought. He's never been very nice to me, anyway. But that might just be his parents' fault. His dead parents... The thought made him shiver with his nightly angst again, his shiver making his hand slip out of Malfoy's. The loss of contact made the other boy whinge, his perfect hand brushing over the sheets, searching. Harry gazed at him for a moment, completely abashed, before reaching out to hold the other hand in his own again.

"What's this, Malfoy?" Harry mumbled. "Getting soft?" And then he smiled at Draco. "You've really got a silly name, dragon. But it fits you perfectly." He let his free hand stroke away a few strands of hair that had been pushed from their usual flawlessness by their previous struggle. "You're rash... cunning... and really dangerous."

He sat there, watching over the young man he had felt such hatred toward for so many years, and as the minutes slowly passed, he felt the hatred wash away like ice melting in warm water. He curiously gazed at Draco's free hand, as it was lifted toward him. The sleeping boy rolled over slightly, stretching further until his searching hand touched Harry's robes. Harry frowned. Now what's...? he thought, just before Draco's hand clutched his robes firmly and pulled the boy closer. Harry landed in an awkward position, his head just barely missing Draco's, their chests separated only by the fist that still held a portion of Harry's robes and one of his legs had rolled over Draco's.

"GWAH!" Harry's exclamation was surprised more than panicking and though his eyes were wide, they held no fear. A clear voice whispered in his ear, in a way that made Harry grasp Draco's robes and hold him tight.

"Don't leave me so alone," Draco had whispered.

"Don't fear, Draco," Harry whispered back, calmingly, "I won't." As he spoke the words something reflected the light, a quick hint of bright blue visible somewhere between the two before it disappeared, as suddenly as it had come. Harry frowned and moved away from the sleeping one slightly, to be able to see more closely. And there it was, really, just like that. The fact that they hadn't noticed the grey-blue, tear-shaped jewel before made the young man wonder. It has to be one of the "magical features" Snape and Draco were so eager to shut up about. He frowned. But if they knew this could happen, why didn't they try it? Harry sighed. Perhaps they just didn't know. He carefully picked it up watching it closely to see if anything would happen. When there was no spectacular show-off Harry began to wonder whether this really was the right thing. Sure, had the right shape and size of course, but there was no real colour to it, the way Draco had described it, it was rather greyish. As the notion passed through his head he caught a glimpse of something, deep inside the crystal. What's that? he wondered, curiously holding the crystal close to his eyes, so he could see it clearly even without his glasses. In the depths of the crystal a light could be seen, faint and flickering, but as blue as a summer sky.

"You don't look very much on the outside," he muttered to the crystal, his breath blurring the surface, "but that light you've got deep inside... wow, it's amazing... it's so beautiful." As he uttered the last words the crystal light grew brighter, making him tremble, he just couldn't take his eyes off it. Ever so slowly, it brightened up in his gentle hold until the whole room seemed to be glowing a soft azure blue. As it faded back again, Harry saw Draco's open eyes, fixed on the glowing crystal, a terrible need to be seen in them like it had been written all over his face in white-hot flame. When the light had faded back almost to the minimum it had been before Draco suddenly jerked upright, startling Harry, who still lay on his right elbow, his right hand still grasping Draco's left and his left hand carefully holding the Azure Tear. He sat up, his hand leaving the other man's with little more than a brush that Draco ignored totally, in favour of the jewel his gaze was fixed on.

"Yours, I presume?"

Draco nodded in silence as an answer, still not turning his gaze from the Tear. Harry sighed, for what seemed the hundredth time the last day.

"Here." He held out his hand toward Draco, who slowly took the precious stone back where it belonged, gently putting it in a pocket of his robe.

"Go, please, I want to be alone." The harsh tone was not unusual, coming from Malfoy, but the civil words almost made Harry flinch. Almost.

"Draco," he acknowledged his fellow student before walking toward the door. Now he really had to pack and get ready for his every-holiday detention of going back to the Dursley's. Dumbledore had found it proper that he stayed at least two weeks or so this last year, until he had gotten well out of Hogwarts, a real wizard. He would have to deal with...

"Aaaargh!" Behind his back a pale face went paler and Draco cried out as pain struck him with a horrifying intensity. Harry stumbled and spun around, seeing the little figure who must have fallen to his knees on the floor, sitting, with the silver-blonde hair in disarray, in front of the bed. Now what? he thought, panic-stricken. Why didn't Draco... The answer found its way to his brain all too easy. He didn't know.

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Ok, concerning the last chapter I must mention one thing. Thanks to the nameless (because I don't remember his name) guy at who had the raven quotes, including the non-raven "Eagles may soar, but weasels aren't sucked into jet engines", which I blatantly stole for my first chappie. Concerning my changing this from a G-rated fic to a PG-13 rated one... well, let's just say, this story doesn't get really amusing until chapter 7 or so, when things start happening for real. Or rather... when Slytherins start happening for real. Unless you count hugs ickly enough to rate it PG-13, that is... grins