Well here's another chapter, sorry I've been such a long time over it but I've had exams and lots and lots of school. Plus I went away for half term – skiing – bring it on! So yeah, anyway, I shall continue with the story……

But first I would like to say a BIG thanks to charl1e - so thank you cos you have reviewed forever, since I can remember  hehe and you're always so helpful, a great support line! – thank you, thank you.

Also thank you to shiny-misS who has also constantly reviewed!

You guys are both great – thank you! So anyway on with this story……

Chapter Twelve – Draco Malfoy

Harry returned to Malfoy's bedside everyday without fail after school had finished. He brought his homework with him to do and pass the time otherwise he'd have teachers on his back even more so than they already were. Ron and Hermione couldn't understand why, they questioned him and questioned him as to why he wanted to be there with Malfoy, all Harry could say was that 'they didn't understand.'

'Of course they don't understand,' Harry thought as he headed to the Hospital Wing yet again one evening after having his weekly confrontation with Ron and Hermione. They'd told him they didn't know him anymore and he'd retaliated with the fact that had they ever known him? This had rendered them both speechless and so Harry had just stalked off. 'They don't realise the connection I have with him, huh, me, Harry Potter have a connection with Malfoy – who'd have believed it. I'm complex, what can I say? Malfoy's been through more with me these past months than they have in a whole bloody year, so fucking wrapped up in one another.' Harry thought angrily.

He was nearing the Hospital Wing, but before he entered it, Harry paused for a second and took a look at his forearm where there were fresh marks from recent dealings he'd had with a broken shard of glass. However, he could still see those two words, the words that formed the daunting question, the two words that would haunt him forever more – whether he won the final battle or not, they would always be there.

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'Ah Mr Potter, bang on 5pm as per usual, well there's a chair there by Mr Malfoy's bed, ready for you.'

'Has…' Harry started.

'No, no change,' Madame Pomfrey interrupted glumly. 'We'll have to wait and see.'

'Right,' Harry mumbled, he looked to the floor and shuffled quietly over to Malfoy's bed.

'Looking as peaceful as normal, he could almost be dead... Why won't he wake? Doesn't he see I'm suffering here?' Harry thought selfishly. He shook his head and sighed deeply – what could he do? Nothing, there was nothing he could do, as he was repeatedly told by Madame Pomfrey. Malfoy would make his own way back, in his own time, 'we can't push him Mr Potter.'

'Well hurry up and make your bloody way back Malfoy, you hear me?' Harry nearly shouted.

Harry took deep breaths and transfigured himself a table to work on and got back to tackling the properties of the Angora Potion.

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It wasn't until four days later when Harry was sitting watching Malfoy breathe in and out that something finally occurred to Harry. He finally managed to realise why he was here – not here as in his reason for being in the world but here, by Malfoy for the past 10 days. At first he believed the feeling he'd felt to be guilt, which it wasn't, then he'd thought it might be some form of caring that he'd developed and this idea was also completely wrong. Now, today he'd worked it out, it was fascination. Fascination of Malfoy and his complexity – this was what had had Harry at Malfoy's bedside day by day at 5pm sharp.

Harry sighed and said quietly out loud, 'Why… Why is it that we always want what we can not have?' Harry rubbed his eyes and lethargically closed them – he hadn't slept properly in weeks. 'Why not try now?' He asked himself. 'You're not going to be kicked out for another one and a half hours yet and it's not as if Malfoy's giving entertaining conversation at the precise moment.' So Harry led by his thought laid his head on his arms, which were resting by Malfoy's right thigh and began to drift off into an indefinite sleep. He leisurely got himself into a half awake stupor, when he felt a hand run through his hair making him snap his eyes open to look towards Malfoy's face, which was exactly the same as it had been 5 minutes previously – closed and peaceful looking.

'Who said you can't have me?' Rasped Malfoy.

'I'm sorry…?' Harry gasped, 'Malfoy?'

'The one and only……well,' he paused, catching his breath, 'the one and only good looking one anyway.'

Harry just sat and stared open mouthed, and then as if he suddenly knew what he was doing he snapped his mouth shut and retorted, 'who said I was talking about you anyway?' Malfoy didn't reply but looked at Harry, knowingly. Harry pushed himself up without another word and went to look for Madame Pomfrey who was found bustling around in her office. 'Um, excuse me Madame Pomfrey but Malfoy's awake…' Harry stopped abruptly.

'He is? Finally, took a life time for that one to wake, longer than normal I must say but he arrived back in reality, which is good. Well don't just stand there Mr Potter looking like a wide mouthed tree frog, I'm sure Mr Malfoy could do with a long drink. Water of course; no doubt he would love something stronger, I'm afraid that's his bad luck though.'

Harry blinked, still shocked and now even more so at Madame Pomfrey's reaction. It was as if she knew he'd wake, however, it was her job to know such things. Harry fetched the glass of water and took it to Malfoy, who grudgingly propped himself up on his arms to drink the water.

'Now I want some decent clothes, a newspaper, some food…'

Harry interrupted, 'I'm not some bloody house elf you know, so you can forget it.'

'So this is how you treat someone who was nearly killed eh, Potter, with lack of respect and decency?' Malfoy demanded.

'Well now you know how you treat me all the time.'

'Touché,' Malfoy replied.

'Well I'm going now…' Harry commented, but he had no idea why he let Malfoy know this fact, he should to all intense and purposes have just walked from the Hospital Wing without another word to Malfoy. Nevertheless, that was how it was, he'd already said it, he couldn't take it back.

'Back tomorrow?' Malfoy asked. 'For what's it's worth, I'd like your company Potter.' For the first time, Harry nearly saw a pleading, begging Malfoy, a vulnerable and needing Malfoy, who'd never asked for something like this before in his life.

Harry looked at him blankly and then forced his head to nod, confirming that he'd come back.

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'…and so that's that. I'm surprised you don't remember your snide remarks to me.'

'I don't remember that much to be honest.'

'What do you remember?' Harry questioned.

Malfoy took a deep breath and looked Harry straight in the eye, weighing the idea of telling him or not. Harry felt as if his whole soul was being read in that one moment but he didn't break Malfoy's gaze until Malfoy himself backed down and looked at his hands.

'My Father……' Malfoy started but the words seemed to get caught in his throat. 'My Mother,' he started again, 'she's dead, she died in front of me.'

Harry realised then that Malfoy couldn't bring himself to say that his Father had killed his Mother right in front of Malfoy's own eyes.

'There was never really any love between them – it wasn't an arranged marriage it was more a marriage for the benefits of others, for example Voldemort, my Mother's family status, society and the Ministry.' Harry looked quizzically at Malfoy at the mention of his last example but Malfoy ignored him. 'Anyway, it was my Mother's job, not privilege, not want but job to have an heir for the Malfoy bloodline and raise him – now that job in my Father's eyes is fulfilled she has been sacked so to speak. I have never known love, never known the meaning of a true family that was how I was brought up – it's what has made me, me. My Father decided it was time, this holiday for me to become what I was brought into this world to be – Voldemort's tool and slave, just like my Father. Father like son.' Malfoy spat at the ground. 'I said no, I didn't want to have anything to do with any of them and my Father taunted me saying things like 'so you're going to be a goody goody now are you?' I told him I wanted to remain neutral, which I'll have you know Potter, is the truth. With my Father though, neutral wasn't an option and so pain and suffering had to happen to 'try and make me see and change my ideals'. This having no effect Voldemort took things into his own hands and punished me and punished me and punished me – I didn't know half the spells he practised on me, all I knew was that they hurt, scarred and damaged me inside and out beyond recognition. Finally I managed to leave, escape,' Malfoy chuckled, 'except it wasn't quite that heroic, probably nowhere near your usual standard Potter. Basically I was allowed to walk from Malfoy Manor with them all thinking I'd die before reaching any form of civilisation, but they were wrong,' Malfoy finished.

'I'm glad they were,' Harry said before he could stop himself.

'Bloody hell Potter, what's with all the soppiness?' Malfoy taunted.

'You can sodding well talk you git, with your little statement yesterday.'

Harry swore he saw a pink tinge rise up in Malfoy's cheeks, 'I don't know what you're fu…'

'Nice to see you awake and immersed in a healthy conversation Draco,' stated Professor Dumbledore.

'Yeah, Potter's doing me the world of good.'

'Well it looks like it, especially with that lovely glow you have about your cheeks.' Dumbledore winked at Harry. 'As I said to Harry about a month ago – you'll be as valuable friend to him as he will be to you. Do not forget that.' Dumbledore eyed both boys. 'Hope to see you back in class soon Draco.' And he walked off.

'I was expecting a lecture from the old coot,' Malfoy said spitefully.

'I think he's learnt that lecturing either of us doesn't help the situation,' Harry said wisely.

They sat in silence for a while, long enough for Harry to go to reach for his homework only as soon as he did he was stopped silently by Malfoy. Harry placed the parchment back on the floor and looked expectantly at Malfoy. When Malfoy didn't say anything Harry sat back in his chair and stared at him – at the curves of his face, at the ever so slight sparkle that had in the past few days appeared in Malfoy's dull grey eyes, at the way his hair flopped over one eye charismatically in an unruly manner.

'Well I've explained, now will you?' Malfoy suddenly said, pulling Harry out from his observations.

'Explain what exactly?'

'Explain this, everything, especially this,' Malfoy gestured to Harry's forearm.

'You think it's as easy as that?' Harry asked.

'No, of course not but it's a start. Make a start, like I did.'

Harry turned his in Malfoy's direction again and began, 'When I lived with my muggle relatives, all the way through my life, until I was 11 years old I live in a cupboard.' Harry expected Malfoy to say something here, at least snigger, do something but Malfoy being Malfoy stayed stony and silent, so Harry continued. 'I received the basics but no love, no gratitude, no idea of what it was to have family. In my eyes I was alone that is until I was introduced into all this, I didn't have my parents but I learnt about them from various sources and so built up my own picture. Meaning that by the end of the first year here I had an idea of real family and I had the security of Hermione, Ron and the Weasley's. Later on I learnt of my Godfather and that he wasn't what I had thought him to be, also I gained a friendship with an old friend of my parents – letting me be one step closer to real family. I was now near and with people who wanted my company, they gave me respect and treated me as someone who was beyond my years all because of who I was. Slowly I let myself love, it was gradual but it happened. Then last summer I lost my Godfather and my world came crumbling down upon me, the love I felt disintegrated to nothing. The people who I felt closest to, the ones who were the last links to my parents became so intent on protecting me as each year I get closer and closer to my fate that it seems as if I, the 16 year old boy has been forgotten. I don't really exist as a person anymore, more as a weapon in the long run to save the world's arse, so I found company within myself, I started to do things, like get these…' Harry pointed to a few of his tattoos. 'Also my muggle Uncle took certain events out on me, as you've seen, so I suppose I became used to the pain and all that, everything bore down on me and caused me to become friendly with a piece of glass.'

Harry looked away, down to the floor and bent to pick up his pieces of parchment. Still not looking at Malfoy, he turned to leave the Hospital Wing.

'Harry.'

Harry turned back to witness Malfoy hold out his hand for Harry to shake – a mutual agreement, not necessarily a friendship, but an agreement of sorts. Slowly Harry's hand went out to meet Malfoy's and he grasped it, shaking.

'Draco.' Harry replied and walked from the Hospital Wing.

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Well that's the next chapter… Hope you all like. I've started another story, I'd really appreciate it if anyone would have a read of it and it would really help me. As to this one, please review, press that little button there in the corner… go on… you know you want to…… lol. Thanks Lelimo.