Crossing the Line: by GiddyGirl15

Disclaimer: I do not own a bloody thing. J.K. Rowling, the absolute Goddess of all things Harry Potter, takes all of the credit for anything you recognize in this story. Please oh pretty, pretty please don't sue me!

Warning: Harry/Draco slash. If it's not your thing, please don't read.

Author's Note: Hi again! Well, I wanted to get this next chappie out before the next book, but, unfortunately, I got a little tied up. Oh well. Speaking of which, I do believe that HBP is my new favorite book even though that certain person, who will remain nameless for any Harry Potter "fans" that have not yet finished the sixth book, dies. :'( And there is soooo much slash in this one! Harry is so totally and completely in love with Draco…he just doesn't realize it yet ;) And he should stop kidding himself with Ginny. Anyway, here's the next chapter and I really hope you enjoy it! I hope to at least enhance Harry and Draco's relationship to friends in this next part, because I just can't stand the thought of writing more Draco depression! Maybe we can get Harry to cheer him up ;) I really, really hope you enjoy it and please, oh pretty please review!

P.S. I promise that I have this story all planned out and I won't use any of the sixth book's ideas! I thought I'd better make that clear since the issue is bound to come up.

P.S.S. Please note that I changed the rating to R because I felt kind of limited with a mere PG-13 rating…: P! So anyway, onto the story!

Thinking fast, Harry grabbed Draco's hand and led him out of the bedroom and down the stairs in the direction of the secret entrance of the passage leading to the Whomping Willow. But before they reached the trapdoor, footsteps approached the closed door just beyond the entrance…someone was coming…

Chapter Four: Trust

Harry held his breath. Next to him, Draco paled and glanced up at Harry, horrified. They would never make it out unseen. The door slowly creaked open and a shadowy figure stepped inside of the dusty room. Both boys braced themselves for a confrontation. Harry pointed his wand at the approaching person, shaking with nerves.

"Harry, what on earth are you doing? Put that wand down before you hurt someone!" Hermione stepped into the light, looking from Draco to Harry, completely baffled. "What's going on here?" Her eyes looked suspicious.

Ron stumbled over the threshold into the dimly lit room. "What's happenin' 'Mione?"

Harry and Draco both breathed a sigh of relief. I never thought I'd be glad to see those two, Draco thought to himself. Realizing he was no longer in any immediate danger, he stood and sneered, attempting to maintain his 'I am Draco, fear me!' disposition.

With one last characteristic smirk, Draco turned on his heel and walked toward the door without a word.

"I wouldn't go out there if I were you," Harry said.

"I'll do whatever I damn well please, Potter," he said haughtily.

Harry was surprised how fast Draco had returned to his arrogant, bitchy little self. He rolled his eyes. "Because your dear old dad is just outside the house," Harry said smoothly, pointing out the window. "Wouldn't want to run into him now would we?"

The smirk was immediately replaced by a look of horror as Draco's head snapped around to look out the dusty window. Sure enough, there was Lucius, making his way up the hill. "Shit. Get me out of here, Potter!" He said it almost like a threat, hoping that Harry would be frightened into obedience. Unfortunately, Harry just stood there and crossed his arms, scowling at the Slytherin.

"I should just let him have you. You're sick, Malfoy. I'm not going to lift one damn finger for you if you continue being a prat to me and my friends. Either you're gonna start acting like a decent human being or we're going to let your bastard of a father have you. And don't think I'm kidding." Harry glared at Draco, wondering vaguely why he was even giving this piece of shit a chance. Because he's so damn cute when he's scared…Shit. Stop that! Oh bloody hell…

With one last frantic look toward the approaching threat, Draco came to a decision. "Fine! Fine. I'll try and be…civilized…to you and your little posse, Potter. Just get me the hell out of here!"

Knowing that was the best kind of a promise he was going to get from the pompous Slytherin, Harry gestured for everyone to follow him into the secret passageway.

After about twenty minutes of trudging through the dank tunnel, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco emerged from under the Whomping Willow. Ron reached a hand down and helped Hermione out of the whole, earning him a questioning eyebrow from Draco. He blushed and looked away. The foursome made their way onto the grounds in an awkward silence, nobody knowing what to say.

Finally, after dozens of curious glances at Draco, Ron spoke up. "So what the bloody hell are you doing with Malfoy, Harry? And why was he so petrified of Lucius?"

Harry looked at Draco, who shrugged and nodded, knowing that Harry wouldn't be able to keep his secret for long. Harry took a breath and began, "Well, Malfoy's kind of, um, well, on our side now. He refused the Dark Mark and now his dad wants him dead. I guess I sort of, um, saved him." He glanced at Draco, uncertain whether or not to go into anymore detail. Ron and Hermione looked slightly puzzled, knowing there was more to the story, but didn't press Harry for more information.

Despite Harry's assurance that they could trust him, Hermione was skeptical. Why would Draco Malfoy, the lord of Muggle-born prejudice, owner of the darkest wizard reputation in the entire Hogwarts School, royal prick, and incessant pain in the ass, suddenly have such a dramatic change of heart? It would be so easy for him to take advantage of Harry's decency and use his cunning ways to breach the Light forces. But what if the stinky little prat is telling the truth? Hermione mused. I've never seen him that scared before…well, unless you count when he was attacked by Buckbeak, or when he went into the Dark Forest for the first time…but the point is, he never gets scared without a reason. And he looked genuinely terrified! But what if he's just a really good actor? I wouldn't put it past him…he is a Malfoy, after all. She looked over to see Draco standing just beyond the three Gryffindors, looking at his shoes. She walked over to him. "Malfoy," she said in what she hoped was a somewhat friendly tone. "I want you to tell me right now. I don't want you to lie, and I don't want you to stretch the truth. I just want to hear it straight, got it? Are you honestly in trouble here or are you simply taking advantage of some Gryffindor nobility? I've got some serious skepticism here."

Draco looked at her and said angrily, "Look Granger, I get it, okay? You don't trust me and you probably never will. Frankly, I don't give a damn if you Gryffindors help me at all! I'm just fine on my own. And just for the record I was actually telling the truth this time." He stalked away, up toward the castle. She wasn't sure, but Hermione could have sworn she saw him wipe a tear as he strode off. Well I'll be damned.

She turned back to Harry and Ron, who seemed deep in conversation about something. "Are you seriously willing to just let go of all the horrible stuff he's done to us, Harry? It's Malfoy! Malfoy! He hasn't 'changed', he's just using you to help You-Know-Who! Sometimes, Harry." Ron shook his head, staring at his best friend in disbelief.

"I'm just saying that maybe we should give him a chance, that's all! It's not like I'm gonna invite him over to Grimmauld Place for tea and battle plans or anything!" Harry exclaimed. He couldn't see why Ron was having such a hard time accepting this.

"Maybe Harry's right, Ron," Hermione spoke up. "Maybe Malfoy's changed. Sure, he's still a gigantic prat and royal prick, but he seems different somehow. He's scared. And if these past five years have taught us anything, it's that people are not always what they seem. It's like Harry said; we don't have to welcome him into the Order with open arms or anything, we just have to give him a second chance. Who knows? Maybe he'll surprise us!"

Ron just sighed. "Oh well, I can see that it won't make a difference what I say, so I guess I'm in."

With that, the trio headed back up to the castle.

Shit. Draco Malfoy ripped open his bed hangings, and plopped face-down on his four-poster bed in the Slytherin dorms. Shit. Stupid Gryffindors. I am totally and completely screwed. Now, not only did his evil, sadistic, slightly crazed father escape from Azkaban with a fiery vengeance, but he had the sodding Golden Trio trying to 'help' him. Shit. Why does my life have to be so screwed up? I shouldn't have to put up with this kind of shit. I'm a Malfoy, dammit! Well, I guess I kinda screwed that one up too. I guess now I'm just Draco. Just Draco. What am I gonna do? He thought miserably.He had never felt more alone in his life. Draco screamed into his pillow. He lay there, wallowing in his self-pity, for the rest of the day. He didn't even bother to go eat, even though he was absolutely starving. Maybe I'll just die if I stay here long enough. I mustn't get my hopes up though. He sighed.

Suddenly, he was rudely interrupted by a harsh knock on his door. "Draco Malfoy! You come out here this instant! I want to talk to you!" Pansy's voice sounded clearly agitated. Draco groaned. Not her again. It was common knowledge throughout the school that Pansy Parkinson was absolutely in love with him, and both of their parents considered them to be a perfect match. She was always hanging all over him, sucking up to him and whatnot. She really fancied the idea of being married to someone with such great power and wealth as Draco Malfoy had. Well, too bad for Pansy. Ever since third year, Draco had come to realize he was gay. And not just a passing flutter once in awhile when he saw a cute guy, but raging hormones telling him to do very bad things to nearly every being of the male gender. Girls had always fancied him…hell, why wouldn't they? He was fucking gorgeous! But despite his "Slytherin Slut" reputation, he'd never actually 'been' with anyone. Ever. He was just as er…inexperienced…as the next guy. Just another reason his life was total hell on earth.

Finally breaking through the locking charm, Pansy opened the door, looking positively livid. "Where the hell have you been lately? Jeez, Draco. I feel like I hardly see you anymore, and when I do you're so distant. It's like you've just stopped caring about everything! Even life! Fuck, Draco, you're really scaring me," she touched his hand, looking sadly into his eyes. "What's wrong Drake? Tell me…" Draco rolled his eyes. He knew an advance when he saw one.

"Look, Parkinson. First, don't call me 'Drake'. Second, I'm fine. Just going through something right now. And third, get the hell out of my room!" He chucked his pillow at her, which hit her squarely in the face. Draco was very grumpy and wanted nothing to do with her. Her eyes filled with tears and she tore out of the room. Good riddance, he thought bitterly.

With that, he drifted off into a troubled sleep, dreaming of psycho lunatic fathers and the stupid Golden Trio.

Monday dawned dreary and dull. The entire day went by so slow it was as if someone had bewitched time to make it move sluggishly. Harry yawned for the umpteenth time that day, gazing uninterestedly around at his Defense Against the Dark Arts class –

"CONSTANT VIGILENCE!" Professor Moody shouted, slamming a textbook onto Harry's desk. He snapped to attention with a start and without any idea what was being discussed. Sniggers were heard throughout the room as Moody shot Harry a warning glare. He shrugged, uninterested, as the teacher proceeded with the lesson.

Finally, after what seemed like five hours, DADA ended and the students made their way out of the dank classroom. Belatedly remembering he'd forgotten his quill on the desk, Harry turned around and headed back for the room. He turned too quickly, however, and he ran smack into none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Watch where you're going Potter!" Draco spluttered, bending down to pick up the textbooks he had dropped.

Harry's own books had spilled as well and he was hastily trying to pick them up, muttering an apology for his clumsiness. In his rush, he accidentally ended up placing one of Draco's books in his own bag. Draco, however, didn't seem to notice and made his way down the hall, scowling. Harry swung his book bag over his shoulder and headed back to the DADA room to retrieve his quill.

Later that evening…

Harry grudgingly pulled out his Transfiguration textbook, Wandless Magic at its Best, to begin a lengthy scroll on transfiguring a rock into a goblet without using a wand. As he pulled the book out of the bag, a small journal fell out and flipped open to a page in the middle. Remembering Voldemort's attempt to devour Ginny Weasley's life force with a magical diary, Harry regarded this newfound discovery with extreme caution.

Carefully, he reached down and picked up the mysterious book. Flipping to the inside of the cover, he read the inscription:

To my dearest son, Draco. Use it well.

Your loving mother, Narcissa Malfoy

I must have picked this up by mistake, Harry thought. Slowly, he began to flip to the next page, his curiosity overwhelming him. No, Harry! He commanded himself. If you're trying to get on Draco's good side, the last thing you need to do would be to invade his privacy like this. But wouldn't this be the best way to find out if he really is telling the truth? You already know he's telling the truth, remember? Yeah, but…no buts! Now get to that essay, mister! Harry pouted. He really did want to see what was in Draco's little diary, but that sodding voice of reason always had to get in the way. He got to work on his Transfiguration essay, but found it very hard to concentrate on what he was writing. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to just take a little peek…you know, get him back for all those times he harassed me…alright, but on your own head be it. Eagerly, he flipped open to the first page of the journal:

Dear Journal, it read. Today was my fifteenth birthday and it was a pretty dismal celebration. Sure, I got loads of gifts and all that, but Daddy wouldn't even take a break from his "meeting" with the "Dark Lord" to come celebrate. Mummy was nice enough to bake me a cake and all, but it was just kind of a sad birthday. Oh well, nothing I can do about it now. Maybe I'll go fly on that new Firebolt Mummy bought for me. Yeah, fresh air will do me good I think. Always, Draco. Harry sighed. What a spoiled prat. He shook his head and flipped to the middle of the book, hoping to read something a bit more interesting.

Dear Journal,

The Dark Lord came back again today. Wanted to know when Daddy will let him have me. I don't want to go do his dirty work…I mean, what's the point? I don't know how long Father will be able to convince him I'm too young to do any field work. I guess I'm kinda scared. But Malfoys don't get scared. Malfoys do what's expected of them and don't ask questions. That's just how it is and I sure as hell better get used to it.

Draco Malfoy

Harry stared at the scribbled passage. So the only thing standing in the way of Draco turning Death Eater and aiding Voldemort was the very person that Harry had shipped off to Azkaban. He really was to blame for Draco's depression. The familiar guilt began to creep into his mind. He had it coming to him. It was going to happen sooner or later. There's nothing you could have done, Harry, so stop blaming yourself. Anyway, he's a righteous little spoiled brat. He deserves it. But no one deserved to be a victim of Voldemort's. Not even Draco Malfoy.

Yawning, Harry decided to call it a night. He closed Draco's diary and placed it back in his book bag, the Transfiguration essay completely forgotten. He headed up to the dorm.

A/N: Well…here it is! Jeez…this one was loooooooonnnngg! I felt like I rambled, but I just didn't want to leave any of that stuff out. Anyway, the next one should be coming out in the next week or so and I'll love you forever if you review! Chau!