A/N; Well, this is the first (and long) chapter of a two-shot idea I suddenly came up with one day. Hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer; I own nothing, except possibly the plot. Sorry if this has been done before, but I did check around and I couldn't find anything like it. So, just so you know, I did come up with this myself!

Warnings; foul language, slash. Anything else you can think of that isn't suitable for kids is most likely also included.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

No. Nonononononono, no, no, no, no, no, no. No, it wasn't supposed to happen; things like that aren't allowed. No. It didn't happen, it couldn't have. NO.

Funny, isn't it, how no matter how many times you repeat a word, you can't make yourself believe it? It was a pity, really, that all of a sudden the word no had lost all meaning to me, because as wrong as it was - as absolutely terrible as it should have been - I couldn't help but think it was oh so incredibly…amazing.

I stared at him as he drew back, not totally sure if I was awake or not. But, no, even after blinking a few times the image was completely the same; and yes, it had happened. But, what the hell? Just the how had that happened? I mean, everything was all right, so understandable and easy; but no, of course, nothing is simple for the boy-who-just-wouldn't-bloody-die, and Dr-Malfoy- just had to go and ruin the simplicity by…eurgh, I can't even bring myself to say it.

But whether I can say it or not, it still happened, and I was left stranded; I mean, just what the bloody hell was he thinking? What the fuck did he expect me to do; declare my undying love to him and pledge my unwavering loyalty? God, someone up there is screwing around with me, I just know it.

Okay, okay, I admit; it's not as if I was complaining at the time, and no, it's not as if I pushed him away. And, bloody hell, I know I participated but…oh shit.

He's staring at me now, looking apprehensive as he chews on his bottom lip; I've noticed that's a nervous habit of his, when he isn't wearing that bloody mask of his. Of course, he's letting me see every single emotion right now, I know how hard that must be for him…and yep, there it is, the twinge of worry in his eyes because I have yet to move…Oh, fuck it all…

Oh, all right, I can hear you back there; asking me just what the hell had happened to put me into such a bloody irritating and god damn confusing situation, and I know you want the full story. But, you see, the thing is…well, it isn't exactly the easiest tale to tell because – well, because as stupid as it sounds, I'm not entirely sure of the details myself. So, I ask you to bear with me, readers, as I try and get the facts straight. Well, I guess I'd better start at the beginning, eh?

I was listening to the headmaster give the usual welcoming feast when it all started; well, I was pretending to listen anyway, I wasn't really paying any attention. But I was looking at the headmaster and not talking to anyone else; that's what counts, right? Well, it kept Hermione satisfied, anyway.

He was taking an awfully long time, I can remember that much. Ron leaned across the table a little to whisper something to Dean who was sitting opposite him, and the two chuckled quietly. Dean then turned and shared the joke to Seamus, who barely even bothered to disguise his laughter. Hermione rolled her eyes at them, and I couldn't help but laugh a little at their antics; I wasn't bothered that I wasn't it on the joke, I'm quite sure they were just pratting around trying to devise a new way to get one over on Malfoy...oh shit, can you believe it? Only two paragraphs into my story and already that bloody idiot has wormed his way in.

Well, anyway, you'll be hearing quite a lot about him in this piece, I guess he occupied most of my thoughts for a rather long period of time.

But that's beside the point. Anyway, Hermione nudged Ron hard in the side, making him give a small yelp.

"For goodness sake, Ronald! Pay attention!" she hissed, ignoring his glare "even Harry is listening,"

Ron turned to stare at me, and I raised my hands defensively. "Don't drag me into this," was my only response, before I fazed out again, ignoring their bickering.

I know, I know, they should have been a couple bloody ages ago, but surprisingly enough it took them until the summer after our sixth year (barely two weeks ago, actually) to hook up. About time.

Dumbledore was droning on about house unity and stuff; same things as usual. I guess he feels it's his duty or something, because no one else is willing to get us students to work together. Well, not all the students; it's mainly targeted at Gryffindor and Slytherin, everyone knows that.

Sixth year was rather uneventful to say the least, we all think it was the 'quiet before the storm'. There were the mandatory death eater attacks and ministry raids on suspected death eaters; but many more death eaters were let free then were imprisoned. Lucius Malfoy escaped; that's a fact you should probably take note of.

I let my eyes scan across the hall; I had a pretty good view from where I was, with my back facing the wall behind me and the other three tables in front. Don't you think it's funny that the school finds it necessary to put the other students in between the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables? I wonder if they assume we'd start fighting during breakfast or something; although, knowing our rivalries, we would.

And, shockingly enough, my eyes landed on the table furthest away from me, automatically scanning the Slytherins for that mass of platinum blonde hair that always stands out amongst the black and green robes. There he was, seated at the end of the table, a little way from the other snakes. What, no body guards? Funny, I could have sworn I saw Crabbe and Goyle on the train journey…although, looking back at it, Dr-Malfoy hadn't been with them.

I was brought harshly back to reality from my musings as the deafening chatter struck up around me, the plates on the tables filling with the glorious food that was always provided at such feasts. I began to pile food onto my plate, grinning as my best friend helped himself to large portions of everything.

"Hey, don't you think it's weird," Ron asked, food not yet in his mouth, leaving him free to speak "I mean, Malfoy didn't pay us the usual welcome visit on the train here,"

"Yeah, I noticed that too," I replied, furrowing my brows "I saw his bodyguards, but they were alone,"

Hermione – you know, I could hear her rolling her eyes – huffed a little, starting in on one of those little rants of hers.

"You know, perhaps this year you should pay more attention to your studies then this childish rivalry you have going with Malfoy; we know he's on the same side now, it's not as though he's about to kill us all when we turn out backs,"

"You're just saying that because you want us to pull out the books; and school hasn't even properly started yet!" Ron retorted, before proceeding to shovel food into his mouth.

"Maybe 'Mione's right, Ron. I mean, he's hardly dangerous, and without his backup from the other snakes, the fights will be rather pathetic,"

You know, I hear that Taiwan is a nice place around this time of year.

"'OO 'AT?"

Yeah, I know, it took me a little while to translate that too, but I guess it was 'you what?' Hermione grimaced, using a napkin to remove the sprayed food from her shirt.

"You know, Ron, I'm sure there are some people over in Australia that didn't quite hear you,"

I frowned, looking around the hall; sure enough, most eyes were now on us, and yes, you are correct; Dr-Malfoy was also looking over, on of those thin, neat eyebrows raised in question. But no famous Malfoy smirk, no glare, no sign of malice…I looked quickly away, trying to keep the image out of my mind.

"Harry, are you mad?" Ron asked, having chewed his voice and lowered his voice to a harsh growl "Do you have any idea what you just said?"

I didn't bother to answer.

"Well, I for one agree with him. You would do well to follow his example, Ron,"

Yep, I knew I could count on her; Hermione jumping in and backing me up, just because she knew that meant I was agreeing to study. Heh, as if; I was agreeing to lay off on Dr-for bloody hells sake, Malfoy, not follow her to the library every day to bore myself to death with those dusty, sniffle-inducing books.

That's the only major incident that I can recall from that night, and everything for the first week of school was perfectly normal. Ron and I stayed away from Malfoy, and surprisingly enough he kept away from us. He seemed to keep his head down and get on with things, not bothering anyone else, or indeed being bothered by anyone else. His housemates pretty much seemed to leave him alone, other than the few taunts and leers.

Oh, did I forget to mention? With his father in prison, Malfoy rejected the dark lord. Most sane thing he ever did, in my opinion, but it was crazy at the same time; he knowingly set his entire house against him, not to mention his father. Ah yes, Lucius…he was irate, when he escaped and found out, but he couldn't do anything for fear of being caught again.

As far as I know, the Slytherin's under Dumbledore's protection. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I don't care. No, I don't.

No; there's that word again. It is proving to be of little use to me, right now, but I suppose it makes me feel a little better.

Anyway, like I said, for a time, everything continued as normal. Few had anything to say on the topic of Dr-Malfoy, for god's sake it's Malfoy, but few people had anything to say about him no matter what his name currently is. I must admit, I barely thought about him; but I found myself automatically looking for him at every meal, in every lesson; just to check he's still alive, I kept telling myself; it's a duty, it's not because I care.

It doesn't really matter if I cared or not, the fact is I do now. He caught me looking at him once or twice, but other than the raised eyebrows I got little response from him.

And then it happened. It's not really a big thing, on the whole; although, it is really, because it's almost where it all started.

I think it was about two weeks into the term; I'm not sure, but it was a Wednesday night and I couldn't sleep. I lay for hours, tossing and turning, but never sleeping. And so I decided to get out for a bit, have a wander. Taking my invisibility cloak and map, I did just that.

In a perfect story, I would have found a secluded area – most likely by the lake or in the Astronomy tower – and would either have found Dr- oh for god's sake, what the hell – would either have found Draco there already, or he would have quietly joined me a few minutes afterwards. We would have had an in depth discussion about something, and a load of truths would be revealed and suddenly bam, everything would have been alright between us. I guess a few nights later we would have been kissing and everything.

Oh god, that's a niiiiice mental image; no, no, no! Do not go there! Anyway, that is most definitely off topic. But, that is what would have happened in a perfect, simple story.

But this isn't a perfect, simple story, and neither is my life. My life is complicated and damn well annoying; anything, but far from perfect.

I walked around for quite a while, I do have to admit. I wasn't sure where I was going or anything like that, or even why. But I wasn't thinking either, so that was a nice change. I just kept walking and walking; and then I heard it. Crying. A soft, gentle hum coming from a darkened corridor, where I was sure there was a figure hugging their knees and crying gently in the darkness. It could have been a trap. It could have, but wasn't.

And this is where the little voice starts taunting me, telling me that this tale is becoming overly clichéd, but I swear it's all true. It all happened, coincidentally or not, and everything that I have written and will write is completely accurate.

I didn't think through my actions at all; I shrugged off the cloak, used my wand to light a hovering candle, and sat down next to the figure, leaning against the wall just as they were.

I could tell instantly it was Draco, his silvery blonde hair was an instant give away. But I didn't say anything, and neither did he. We both just sat next to each other, in complete contact down one side from our shins to our shoulders, in a more or less comfortable silence. Draco continued to cry, and I'm pretty sure he was leaning into me a little, but still neither of us said anything, and neither of us moved.

I don't know what I was thinking; hell, I don't think I was thinking, but I stayed there anyway. He looked so vulnerable, without that stony mask of his, and all I wanted to do was gather him in my arms and tell him everything was all right. But everything wasn't all right, that much was obvious, and if I touched him any more he would most likely have hexed me.

But I also knew that Malfoy's simply didn't cry; it wasn't one of the things on the list of Malfoy emotions and ways to express them that he could do. So, you have to admit, it was a particularly life changing experience; I mean, who else can say that they witnessed Draco – a Malfoy - crying in the middle of a dark hallway late at night?

After many long minutes – I don't know quite how long I was there for – his tears began to subside, and I realized to my shock that the pretty – wait a minute, where did that come from? – Slytherin had fallen asleep. I smiled down at him, gently stroking his hair as his head lay on my shoulder; and then reality hit me with a deafening 'clunk' to the head that left me with quite a headache for days afterwards.

Anyway, I finally snapped to my senses and realized where I was and more importantly, who I was with; and yet I still couldn't help but smile down at him, his soft features looking relaxed and almost angelic. I gently began to ease away, supporting his head as I lowered him to the ground.

Sighing, I realized there was little I could do for him, but I didn't want him to be caught by a passing teacher. So, I quickly conjured a small blanket, placing a nifty heating charm upon it to keep out the chilly night air – I had a feeling I was in the dungeons – and then gently laid both the blanket and my invisibility cloak over him, making sure to cover every part of his body.

Oh god, now what the hell made me do that? I wasn't thinking straight, I must have been under a spell or potion; but I trusted him, and I knew he would return it. The year before, I would have thought he would have stolen it, or held it at ransom or something, but not anymore. He wasn't my enemy anymore, but I don't know what changed that. Maybe the whole crying thing had been a devious plot from the start, but I don't think so. And yes, I think I did the right thing.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Harry mate, what the fuck happened to you? You look like shit!"

Ah yes, the in depth and clearly well thought out opinion of my best friend is always greatly appreciated first thing in a morning.

"Ron!" Hermione cried, hitting him on the arm.

"What?" He replied, pouting playfully "I was only telling it how I see it,"

Yes, I guess I did look like shit that morning; I had been out late the night before with Draco, so I was tired beyond belief.

"I'm fine," I replied, yawning "I just didn't sleep well last night."

I shouldn't have said that. Out of all the many excuses I had used in the past, that was the most stupid. You'd think I would have learnt my lesson by now, but no, not me. Good one, wonder boy. Face the consequences.

"Oh, Harry! Was it a nightmare, a vision – oh, it wasn't you scar was it?"

"Was it you-know-who?"

"Do you need to see Dumbledore?"

"Do you think it'll come true?"

"I think you should really see Dumbledore and-…"

And yes, there was a rant that followed that too. Bloody pissed me off, that one did.

"No Hermione," I interjected, as we all entered the great hall "It's wasn't anything like that. I just couldn't sleep is all,"

I looked around the room as usual, taking a seat at the Gryffindor table. Alas, no Draco. I don't know why I wanted to see him anyway, it's not like I cared; and I still don't. No, not at all.

But, it turns out I did make the right choice the night before - hah, screw you, little voice. When I returned to my dormitory later that evening, there was a brown package sitting on my bed, with a small piece of parchment laid carefully on top of it. I dumped my bag carelessly by my bed and sat down, unfolding the parchment to find two simple, insignificant and yet welcomed words.

Thank You.

It didn't take a genius to work out who it was from, and I knew without opening it that the package contained my cloak. I folded it neatly back up, placing it back in my trunk with the map, and then carried on with life as usual.

If only things were so simple.

From then on, I seemed to notice Draco more and more often; in the corridors, in classes, at meals when I really wasn't looking; everywhere I went I saw a flash of that silvery blonde hair, accompanied by seemingly dull grey and blue eyes.

But, it seemed he was seeing me just as much as I was seeing him; when he passed in corridors he would give me the tiniest nod of recognition without a falter in his step, before dashing off again out of sight. When he caught me staring at meals, he would sometimes give a very, very small smile; rarely seen and hard to spot, but a smile nonetheless.

And, funnily enough, I began to look out for those smiles, trying to pull at least one out of him every day. He has a nice smile, one that lights up the entire area around him without him even trying…but when he wasn't smiling, his eyes were dull and lifeless, his face set into his usual, uncaring mask.

I figured it must have been lonely for him, but I never found out for sure. We never spoke.

"Harry, are you feeling all right?"

Oh god, the book-worm patrol is on to me again. Sorry, I don't mean to be rude or anything, I really do love her for who she is and all that but…she coddles me too much, and it annoys me sometimes. Ever since what happened that time in the ministry at the end of fifth year, she's gotten it into her head that I need to talk. I mean, what is she, my mother?

"Yes, 'Mione, I'm fine," I flashed her a grin, returning to my notes.

"Are you sure? It's just, you're looking a little pale, and you seem to be really tired of late,"

"She's right, you know," Ron said, looking up from his own work on the other side of me "you have been acting kind of strange lately. We're just looking out for you,"

Strange? Who, me?

"I'm fine, really guys. I'm just lacking sleep, I guess,"

Ah yes, that ever useful and completely transparent excuse of lacking sleep. I know they don't believe it; hell, I don't believe it even now. Well, no, it's not the lacking sleep they don't believe; I guess they just don't understand why I'm not sleeping. And at the time, I bloody well intended to keep it that way.

Hermione pursed her lips, automatically scribbling some notes down as the professor continued with his lecture. She narrowed her eyes at me, thinking carefully.

"You might want to consider seeing Madam Promfey about that, Harry. It could be a spell of some sort, designed to keep you awake and drain your energy…the least she can do is give a dreamless sleep potion."

I nodded to keep her happy, and she smiled at me before returning her concentration fully to the teacher. Yes, a potion would be nice, but even the nurse would want to know why I needed one. The truth is, I had been kept awake a lot thinking about Draco; I mean, why was he crying that night, and why wasn't he in his dormitories? What the hell was he doing in the cold, empty corridors, and why oh why was he being nice to us all of a sudden?

Fate, it seems, decided she hadn't pissed about with my life enough at that point, and chose to irritate me even further; just for kicks, you know? Anyway, when – at least a week or two later – I was still having trouble sleeping, I accidentally overslept one morning; completely missing my first class.

As you can imagine, I was furious with Ron and the others for not waking me, and instantly jumped out of bed, dashing around to get my stuff together in a hurry. By the time I was out of the door – still in the process of putting on my tie – it was half way through the third period, and I decided it would be more than a little pointless to join my charms lesson at such a time.

I must admit, had I had much choice in the matter, I would have gone straight back to bed. However, I knew that I was in for a stern lecture from Hermione anyway, and at least I could explain it all away as a migraine that had disappeared around break or something.

So, to waste the last half of the lesson, I headed down to the kitchens for some much needed food, and, as luck would have it, quite literally walked into Draco along the way. Bloody fate, screwing with my life.

I landed on the floor with a quiet 'oomph' and was quite shocked when a milky white and well defined hand was stuck in front of me, offering to help me up. Without even looking up at the owner of the hand, I gladly accepted it, bending down to grab my bag once I had regained my footing.

"Thank you-…oh, Malfoy. Hello,"

The blonde raised his eyebrows at me, giving a small smirk as I dusted off my robes.

"You know, you should really pay more attention to where you're going; one of these days you'll walk off a cliff,"

I chuckled a little, realizing it was just a friendly jibe, lacking any and all types of malice or venom.

"I don't think you'll need to worry about that, I'm sure I'll survive the drop as long as Voldermort is the one to push me off the edge. What are you doing outside of class, anyway?" I asked, scanning the empty hall way for any sign of other students. The blonde's eyebrows met his hairline as his smirk increased, giving me a glimpse of the old Malfoy I knew so well.

"I could ask you the same question,"

I blushed, shuffling my feet. "I ah-…er, I overslept,"

I guess some part of that was funny, because Draco let out a short laugh, a short, soft, sweet laugh that- oh god, I sound like a love-sick fan girl. Someone shoot me now.

"Ah, I won't ask."

"So, why aren't you in class?"

Draco held up his left hand, which was sporting a nasty cut that sliced right the way through the skin. I can't believe I never noticed; his robes were covered in droplets of blood, and he hadn't made any attempt to wrap the wound at all.

"Bloody hell, Draco!" I cried out, dropping my bag and completely forgetting to use his last name. I angrily tore off a bit of my shirt - it was an old one anyway, and his hand was far more important - then began to carefully wrap the wound.

"You don't have to, you know," Draco stated, pulling away. I growled, grabbing his arm and pulling his hand towards me before proceeding to dress the gash as best as possible before using a repairing charm on my shirt.

"How the hell did you do this, Draco?" I asked softly, feeling the taller boy's hot breath ghost lightly over my face.

"Ah, well, I guess Zabini's knife 'slipped',"

"Knife? What the hell? Did he do this to you on purpose? Why? And I sure as hell hope you were heading towards the hospital wing,"

Draco chuckled again, nodding.

"Yeah I was. And I don't know how he got the knife; we were in Transfigurations and he claimed his spell went wrong; I know it didn't, the entire Slytherin house is out to get me. Unsurprising, really."

I scowled softly, letting go of his arm once I had finished with it.

"Hey, who would have thought it," Draco said, smiling a little more "the precious Golden Boy looking out for a Slytherin. I'll see you around, Potter,"

And, as headed off down the corridor, I had to resist the urge to call him back, or at least follow him. Bloody Slytherin.

"Oh, and Potter?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you,"

And after that, I didn't cross paths with him for a full two weeks. But I never stopped thinking about him; I couldn't understand how his house mates could be so cruel. And there was something else I couldn't understand; all of a sudden we were being so nice to each other, putting behind us nearly six years of hate…if it had been anyone else, I would never even have considered it. But it wasn't, it was Draco Malfoy and…and he is a completely unfathomable being that intrigues me greatly.

There was just something about him, something…Dracoish. I know, I know, it's not a word, but still…Draco was, is and always will be one of a kind.

Ah, yes, I know, I know, dear readers, you want me to hurry along to the juicy part, but please have patience.

Anyway, I can't hurry it all along, because this is where things get a little hazy in my mind. I mean, the days passed in a pretty much usual and uneventful blur, with very little action that is worth being noted down. There was one thing though, one thing that changed the entire way I looked at Draco; let's just put it this way, I couldn't look him in the eye for a very long time.

I was dreaming, I know that now, but I didn't then. Draco was there, and we were kissing passionately. He lifted me up in those strong, muscular arms of his and set me gently down on the bed, lips still firmly attached to mine. He kissed his way down my neck, stopping to nibble and lick a little in a particularly sensitive spot where my neck joins my shoulders which caused me to moan appreciatively. He slowly began to unbutton my shirt, teasing the skin beneath it with talented fingers as he trailed hot kisses down my exposed chest.

I'm quite sure you can fill in the details for yourself, and I'm also positive you know exactly what happened next in my dream. I was kissing him too, running my fingers over any and all visible skin, teasing his own nipples and messing up his hair as he tugged at my jeans. And then I noticed our complete lack of clothing, but I don't really think either of us minded as he went down on me.

And, then, just as that sheet of total bliss fell over me, I woke up, cursing the day Draco Malfoy ever became attractive. Damn it all, I had it bad. And no matter how many times I told myself that it was wrong, that it shouldn't happen; no matter how times I said no, my mind disagreed with me.

"Harry. Harry. Harry! Bloody hell, Harry!"

"What?"

Ron was gaping at me, turning slowly red from the neck upwards. I watched in fascination as the flush began to take over all visible parts of his skin, before my eyes switched to Hermione next to him who was frowning, as though deep in thought.

"Are you feeling all right, mate? You look a bit flushed,"

I shifted how I was sitting, thanking whatever god was finally on my side that my two best friends were on the opposite side of the table. Memories of that dream had been flooding my mind, and the school robes only hid the tent in my trousers to a certain extent.

"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine, perfectly fine," I grinned at them, taking another bite out of my toast. No, I wasn't fine. I wasn't supposed to be thinking about the blonde like that; and speaking of blondes, my eyes chose that moment to look over to the Slytherin table. I caught Draco's eyes, as was usual in our morning routine, and quickly looked away as I felt the blush rising in my cheeks. Oh, it was going to be a terrible day, I just knew it.

But then, it was Monday, and I have always hated Mondays. Oh no, it's not one of those random 'I hate Mondays' things because it's the start of the week; no, nothing as simple as that. I hate Mondays for a reason, a reason only I can fully appreciate to its worst extent.

On a Monday morning, every week for the past six years, I've always had double potions straight after lunch; with the Slytherins. I mean, you would have thought that the people who write up the time-tables would have gotten bored with giving us the same torment every Monday, but no, of course not.

The only joy was that it was quite a small class, being Advanced Potions. Don't ask me how I got into that class, I don't have a bloody clue. But Ron didn't make it; Hermione did, obviously. We all have to work alone now, because there's so few of us, and we also have a single Potions lesson later in the week where all the houses are joined in one lesson to make up a full class instead of around eight students.

So yeah, I hate Mondays for a reason. And yes, this Monday was going to be as bad as every other. We – Hermione and I – arrived in the potions room just about on time, choosing seats pretty much in the middle of the room. We all had to sit in the first two rows, it being such a small class and all, but other than that it was choose your own seats.

Anyway, as usual, Snape came into the room exactly on the dot of nine, his robes billowing out behind him; just because Snape wouldn't be Snape without his billowing robes.

"Books away, cauldrons out. If you did the homework, you should know what to do, so get on with it."

Ah yes, Snape was being pleasant as usual. We all hurriedly got out our cauldrons, everyone talking in hushed whispers to check they were thinking the same thing. I lit a flame under my cauldron, then went to the store cupboard to get out the extra ingredients. Of course, Hermione found them straight away and left me to my own devices; only I had forgotten the last few of the ingredients, and had very little clue of what the hell I should do.

"You should watch out, the asphodel will take a little longer than usual to crush today, because of the humidity in the room,"

I looked to my right, where Draco was collecting his own ingredients. He himself picked up a few of the roots, and I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Also, Snape moved the Lacewings to the top shelf, so they might be harder to find this time around, and make sure you don't add the Phoenix feather to soon; if the snake skin hasn't had time to dissolve, the potion could become deadly."

Then, without so much as glancing at me, Draco left the cupboard, leaving me gaping at his retreating back. Did he just help me out? I shook my head, gathering the ingredients he mentioned and praying they were correct. When I got back to my table and looked at the ingredients Hermione had gathered, I found he had indeed mentioned the correct items. I tried to catch his eyes across the classroom, but he was paying attention to his own potion.

I grinned, picking up one of the extra frogs eyes I had picked up (I have a tendency to loose the bloody things, so I always pick up a few extra) and threw it at the back of his head. He looked over his shoulder, scowling as he sought out the culprit; until of course he saw my manic grin, and I nodded my thanks to him before turning back to my own potion. Before my eyes were cast downwards, I caught the small smile that managed to slip onto his lips before he looked back to the front of the room.

Okay, so maybe Monday wasn't so bad after all.

"Potter! Twenty points from Gryffindor for throwing ingredients across the classroom."

I stand corrected. I glared up at the greasy potions professor, but wasn't stupid enough to say anything. He raised an eyebrow at me, clearly amused by my lack of a comeback, then stalked off to harass someone else. Hermione scowled at me, glancing up from her own work.

"Stop messing around, Harry!" she scolded, but I could only roll my eyes as a reply. I told you she was like my mother, didn't I?

"Professor!"

Everyone in the classroom silenced immediately, looking over to Draco who had cried out. He was clutching to his chest a blood-soaked arm, trying not to drip blood into his potion. Beside him, Blaise was grinning innocently, not doing well at trying to look concerned, clutching in his hand a blood stained knife. All I could do was scowl angrily; not again! Bloody Slytherins, I hate the lot of them; except possibly Draco, he's alright.

Snape was instantly at his side, inspecting the wound. It was deeper this time, but he quickly spelled away the blood and mumbled a simple spell to stem the bleeding. He directed Draco to go to the hospital wing, the gash would need more than his knowledge of healing spells to close it up.

"Potter!" The professor snapped, scowling at me "take Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing, and be quick about it. No fighting, either of you!"

We both left the classroom as quickly as possible, not wanting to be around when Snape began to yell at Blaise.

"Zabini sure does have a habit of dropping his knife, doesn't he?" I mumbled angrily, walking beside Draco in a peaceful silence as we made our way through the dungeon halls. Draco gave a short laugh, though it wasn't exactly joyful, and nodded.

"Yeah, doesn't he just? I suppose I deserve it really, I was the one stupid enough to pick a damn side of this war,"

"I don't care, nothing warrants this kind of treatment!" I snapped, wanting to punch Zabini in the nose and then kick him where it hurts. And trust me, I should know, being kicked between the legs really does hurt.

"I mean, he's apart of your house, your friend! You share a dorm, he could at least be civil and not try to mutilate you!"

"We don't share a dormitory; I have my own rooms now. Too dangerous in the Slytherin dungeons,"

I nodded bitterly, thinking it through. "Makes sense, I suppose. At least you're safe in your own rooms, even though it must be lonely as hell,"

Draco had a funny look on his face, as though thinking through a particularly difficult puzzle.

"Worried about me, Potter?"

That statement caused me to stumble a little, tripping up on my own clumsy feet. I hadn't expected him to ask that, and in all honesty, the answer was yes, I was worried. I had been worried about how the hell he was coping, all alone, I didn't want him to back of from society and completely isolate himself as he had done those past few weeks.

Before I could fall, I felt two strong, familiar arms wrap around my waist, hauling me to my feet. Draco was now right in front of me, arms still around my waist, our faces dangerously close.

Clichéd line, no? It was a typical situation, I suppose, and if I had been in my right mind I would have pulled away. But, as it was, I didn't, not even when I noticed his eyes slipping close as he leaned forward to close the gap.

And this just proves how out of it I was; I felt my own eyes closing, and my arms snaking their way around his neck without my permission. Then the waiting was over; his mouth was on mine in a gentle and, dare I say it, caring kiss. He drew back after a moment, searching my face for some kind of reaction. I guess he got one, because I put a hand behind his head and drew him back down again.

This kiss was more heated, passionate; my hands running through his hair and his hands un-tucking my shirt. He slipped his tongue into my mouth, exploring as I stilled in a moment of hesitation. He gently ran his tongue over mine, which had previously lain motionless, and I was instantly kissing back again, our tongues twisting and dancing together as I felt him pull me closer. I couldn't help but let out a small moan of pleasure, the feeling of completeness and ecstasy taking my blood for a joy ride throughout my body.

And, the worst part is, all I could think about was how unbelievably right it all was, how absolutely amazing it was and how alive I was feeling. But then, with one last lingering kiss, he was pulling away.

And that, my dear reader, is where you walked in.

A/N; well, that's chapter one written. Whatcha' think? I hope you liked it, and I'll post the next one soon as well.

Leave a review please, your thoughts and comments are appreciated.