Pansy and Theodore had also officially started dating, and while Draco never admitted to me that he had feelings for Pansy, he had been even more absent these past few weeks.

I noticed his grades were slipping, he rarely did his homework and had completely given up on quidditch. It worried me because Draco had always valued his schoolwork, taking pride in his high grades and being the star player of the Slytherin quidditch team.

It wasn't like him to just not care. He may seem like the type of person who didn't give a damn about Hogwarts, but I know he loves this place as much as I do. It is our home, a safe place.

"Slept badly again?" I ask him. He had been late for breakfast, only leaving him another ten minutes to eat before classes would start. The dark circles underneath his eyes were even more evident today than usual.

"I'm worried about you. You're never around anymore, and when you are you are not present, not really at least. I just want you to know that whatever it is, you can talk to me. I'm here for you, okay?"

He looks up from his plate, his grey eyes meeting mine for a second before looking down, nodding once again.

As he continues eating his cereal, I grab his empty hand, holding it in mine. I almost expected him to pull back, but instead he gave my hand a soft squeeze. I felt the corners of my lips pull upwards, keeping hold of his hand for the last few minutes of breakfast, hoping it made him feel a little better.

Draco had started skipping quite a few lessons each week, yet always came to potions with me. It was his favourite subjects, as it was mine, and it was good to see he still showed interest in it. At least there was something he still cared for.

As professor Slughorn told us about the potion we were brewing today, a rather simple one, I slowly moved my eyes to Harry. He was sitting up front, next to Granger. He was not paying attention to the professor at all, but was looking in his potion book instead, which he had been doing quite often. He didn't take any notes, yet seemed to really excel at potions this year. The only moment he wasn't glued to his book during class, was when it was time to gather our ingredients. It had become a habit to wait until everyone had gone back to their tables before Harry and I went over ourselves, giving us a few minutes to speak. Today being no exception.

"How are your quidditch practices going?" I ask him as I reach for the vial of snape venom.

"Really well. Although I'm still getting used to being the captain, but I think we will do very well on the match this weekend."

"I do love for Slytherin to win, but I will cheer you on in secret," I say, making him smile.

"I have to make sure we win if you are cheering for me."

Although Harry and I barely spend time together, they sure were right when they said that absence makes the heart grow fonder. When I wasn't worrying about Draco, all I could think about was Harry. I had regretted not kissing him the day after the party, since wondering what it would be like to kiss him was now the only thing I could think of every time I was near him. While we did write each other every night, meeting up had been more difficult than expected.

I suddenly feel his hand around mine, making me look up at him with surprise.

"I want to see you after the match," he says, intertwining our fingers. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, my heart beating rapidly. I felt like a little child getting this excited about some simple hand holding, but I couldn't help it.

"I would like that."

"Let's meet at ten, I can pick you up with my invisibility cloak again."

"But if you win, wouldn't you rather celebrate with your housemates?" I wonder. I wasn't sure how they celebrate winning a match at Gryffindor, but at Slytherin there is always a huge party in the common room that goes on the entire night. We also threw a party when we lost, but the ambience was different, more of a drowning our sorrows type of get-together.

"Yes, but I would also like to celebrate with you."

"And if you lose?"

"I could really use your shoulder to cry on," he laughs.

"Oi, Harry. Can you grab some extra wormwood?"

Harry lets go of my hand as we hear the sound of his best friend, Ron Weasley behind us, startling both of us. I quickly reach out to one of the vials I needed, but accidently pushed over the ones next to it, one of them dropping to the floor.

Weasley takes a step back as the vial breaks down, the liquid spilling out. I bend over, picking up the larger shards of glass when I cut my finger on one of them.

"Be careful," Harry blurted, crouching next to me and taking my hand into his to take a look at my bleeding finger.

"Harry it's fine, it's just a little cut," I chuckle.

Harry stands up, pulling me up with him. He turns on the faucet that was next to the cupboards, holding our hands underneath it until my finger stops bleeding. He was looking at my finger intensely, and while I usually never made such a fuss over a cut like this, I rather enjoyed him caring for me like this and thus let him.

"Is everything okay?" Professor Slughorn asks, coming up behind us.

"I'm sorry professor, I dropped done of the vials," I told him.

"That's okay miss Mikhailov, are you all right?" he motions towards my hand that Harry was still holding.

"Yes sir, I'm fine."

Weasley, who was standing next to professor Slughorn looked at the both of us with raised eyebrows. I pulled my hand out of Harry's rather roughly, hoping that would clear any suspicions his friend may have.

"We can easily fix that. Now hold on your finger miss Mikhailov; Episkey," the professor says, his wand pointed at the cut on my finger, healing it instantly.

"Thank you sir," I smile.

"Now be careful, we don't want any more injuries. Harry, Wenby, go on, or you won't finish your potions in time."

As I walk back to the mess I had left on the ground to clean up, I could hear Weasley speak; "since when does anyone in Slytherin call you Harry?"