A/N: Hello everyone!

Meg and Izzy (A.K.A Potter's Associates) here! This our first fic together! -does a dance-

We both hope you enjoy it and review please!

Anywhore, enjoy my dears.

ARG DAMN TELEMARKETERS!


Chapter One- Kiss The Ground Before the Enemy

The dark haired boy got onto the train sighing to himself. He was silent, as had become customary for him. He was in deep thought. The Hogwarts Express lurched to life, and Harry Potter realised the clock tower had struck eleven. At least some thing didn't change. He'd left the Weasley's, Hermione, and the aurors at the station, and had made his way into the train without them. Going slowly from the back of the Express, Harry wanted to see who had come back this year. Small amount, he told himself, mentally counting. Ten Hufflepuffs, about eighteen Ravenclaw's, and… All the Slytherin's. Sighing as he passed the compartment that held Ginny, Luna Lovegood, Ron, and Hermione, he snorted to himself. The whole population of Gryffindor, save himself, were in that one small room. He had expected more… but still The Gryffindors were at home, protecting loved ones. Kicking a door open up near the front of the train, Harry put Hedwig's cage safely on the floor near the corner. Sitting on the seat near the window, he found himself staring out. He almost expected it to be raining, as he always did. But the sun streamed brightly through the window, and his green eyes scanned the clouds ahead. It wasn't going to rain anytime soon, at all. He thought about his last summer with the Dursley's. He had been treated like an equal- almost. And he'd visited Godric's Hollow with Remus, which he'd liked. And… He'd gone to Grimmauld Place, to retrieve the horcrux, the real locket. And destroyed it. But there wasn't much else he could do for now. His thinking took him to Hogwarts. Even without Dumbledore, the school had reopened, McGonagall now running things. But school would be different this year. There wouldn't be optional classes- everyone took the classes that were there. There weren't any first years, so second, third, fourth and fifth years took a class together, and then the sixth and seventh years shared a class. Hermione had been disappointed when they'd cancelled Runes, Arithmancy, and Muggle Studies- but she could go to a starting school after Hogwarts to do them again, if she wanted. This year, all classes were compulsory, to 'ready them'. Charms, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy, and Potions were all the classes. And a new one, Healing. Harry had wondered about Divination- but he understood after a moment. Any true Seers would be needed, and needed the training. And with Firenze, it would be a little more effective. Defence this year would be slightly better- the class would be taught by many teachers- as would a lot of classes. Defence saw Remus, Kingsley, Tonks, and Bill lending a hand- as well as Harry, who had been asked. Charlie would be helping out in Care of Magical Creatures, which reassured a lot of people. Transfiguration saw the Weasley twins lending a hand, as did Charms. Harry sighed slightly. The downside to the year. The fact that he had to juggle so many things. Horcruxes, and extensive classes. And there was no Quidditch. Ah, he missed flying... The thought of flying sent Harry back to thinking of Godric's Hollow, and his father. Losing himself in thought again, the seventeen year old Boy Who Lived was lost to the world.

He had come back this year. He didn't even know why- maybe it was the dark Lord down his back, always glaring at him, always making sure he was close. He hated the man, no longer his hero and more his enemy. He hadn't killed Dumbledore, could you blame him? Dumbledore's words haunted him, in his nightmares and even in his waking hours. He didn't have his usual shine, his face was much more pale then usual, his hair wasn't at all tame, all over his face and messy. It was still platinum blonde, but it wasn't as nice.

He had opted for a carriage at the front, that way he would be seen by less. He didn't want to be bombarded by even the smallest group of people asking him if he was a Death-Eater, or if he planned to destroy Hogwarts. In truth, he now planned just the opposite- to leave the world alone. He paused upon the window of one of the carriage doors, staring in at the dark haired male that had caused a lot of strife between him and his loved ones. He would not go in to make war, but of course he would be entering reluctantly. Most of the carriages had more then one person in them, and however much he hated people, he didn't want to be entirely alone. "Potter." He muttered the name as he slid the door open and made his presence known. He doubted he'd be greeted with much nicety. The green eyes of the boy he'd addressed snapped away from the window, and Harry Potter glared. He seemed speechless for a moment, and then a hissing sound... It was Harry! "Malfoy... Get the... Hell... out of here..." His face was contorted with fury and hurt, and he seemed so angry, he hadn't even remembered that there was such a thing as magic. His hands had balled into fists, and the raven-haired teenager looked like death itself. His face twisted with anger, and his lack of eating and sleeping made the boy seem even smaller and skinnier than before. But there was a new shine to his eyes- something dangerous that hadn't been there before. Draco frowned at him; he had expected that of course, to be shunned away. "Calm yourself, Potter," he said rather calmly, which was a definite change. "I came in here to sit down and get to the castle- not to make war with you," he mumbled, once more speaking calmly, trying not to blow his head and start growling like a madman. He sat down across from Harry. The other boy had changed, Draco noted. He looked almost like him, just as skinny, just as dead.

He had no idea that Harry had been in the room with him and Dumbledore, but it was evident by how Harry was acting that he knew a lot more then Draco thought. "I shall not bother you, if you don't me too." The blond gave him a look that said 'I don't want to harm your precious head Mr Potter,' while his mouth spoke the words. Harry slowly released the tense feelings that he had. He looked away, not able to stand he sight of the other person in the compartment. Staring back out of the window with haunted eyes, he reached a finger into Hedwig's cage again, petting her soft feathers. He hadn't noticed the change in the blond- all he'd noticed was that Draco Malfoy, the bastard who'd caused to much trouble, had come in. But he didn't feel like fighting. Not today, anyway.

Draco kept his eyes out the window. Occasionally he would glance at Harry, just to see if he was still in a blind rage, but apparently that feeling had cooled down. Draco didn't attempt to even talk though, in case the other would snap and go nuts. You couldn't trust the silent types, he thought to himself humourlessly.

The ride however, was a very slow and rather boring one, and he was itching to do something by the time twelve came around. "Potter, be a dear and go found out when that damn food trolley is going to come by?" Of course he was testing him, seeing how he would act before he even tried insulting him or anything of that nature. He couldn't help being an arsehole; he was born that way.

Flipping the other boy the finger, Harry stood up, stalking outside. Coming back about ten minutes later, he jerked a thumb at the hallway. "Lunch lady." He sat back down, a stony look on his face. He himself could be an utter arsehole too- just a different type. Not knowing why he didn't just move to another compartment, Harry sighed, letting Hedwig out of her cage, to sit on his knee. She knew he wasn't happy, and gave a glum hoot in reply to his feelings. Draco moved outside and grabbed a several cauldron cakes. No, he wasn't hungry, but food was essential for life. In any case, he wanted to live. Coming back into the compartment, he stared at Hedwig with slight disgust. Animals shouldn't be allowed in trains, but then again, that was his own fault for sitting in here. "Peace offering Potter," he growled softly and shoved a cauldron cake at him. "Take it or leave it." Sitting back down and set the other three on his lap and chewed one of them with dislike. He hated the trolley food- but his mother wasn't around much to pack him the great food he usually ate. He would be getting a lot less mail and very few presents this year for sure…

Blinking in surprise, Harry looked away for a moment. When he thought Malfoy wasn't looking, he picked up the food, taking a bite. Yeah, he accepted the food- but only because he was hungry, he told himself. Flushing a little, he put it back on his knee, looking down. This year would be confusing. No Sirius... No Dumbledore... No Ginny, Ron or Hermione, by the looks of it either... When had life become so hard? Blinking back hot tears, Harry mentally cursed himself. He wasn't a wimp- at least, he wasn't supposed to be one.

The blonde stared out at the flourishing countryside. A small smile curled its way upon the corner of his mouth as he saw in the reflection of the glass Harry take a bite of the 'offering.' "Like it?" he asked, lifting his legs and leaning on the chair. "It should taste better since it was given to you with love," Draco mocked as he stuffed the rest of the small cake hungrily into his mouth.

Harry scowled suddenly, but a small smile flicked across the gaunt features. Mocking? It was still a joke, and he felt better. He shoved the cake in his mouth, before smirking at Draco tiredly. No, not Draco, he told himself. Malfoy. "I can just feel it." His voice seemed to lack something... life, maybe. Draco snorted and threw him another. One cake was left on his rather thin belly, but he began to eat that one as well. "How longs it been since you've eaten? A week, two?" he asked, not trying to be nasty, but Potter seemed to be eating in much the same manner as himself- shovelling it down as if his life depended on eating it. "I should've grabbed pumpkin juice to go with it," Draco grumbled to himself, rather upset that his thirst now needed to be satisfied. Those cakes weren't exactly filled with moisture and left his tongue rather dry.

Harry glared, but wolfed down that cake, too. "No. Three days. Shut up Malfoy, you look just as bad." He'd snapped at him again- that had annoyed him, that comment. It was hypocritical, and they both knew it. Sighing, he slowed down his greedy manner, and looked the Slytherin in the eye. "I stayed with the Dursleys until this morning- first time in ages. I just had the last three days of holidays with them- They didn't offer, so I didn't take." He didn't realise what he said until the words were out, and his face flushed, as he turned back to the window.

"Ah yes the muggles…" Draco muttered with a sneer. He noted Harry's blush and couldn't help but grin. "Sure they give you much excitement. Heard they locked you under the stairs. Tsk, tsk." The blond sighed and brushed his crumbs off his shirt. The sun was slowly setting, but no-where near complete its journey to get to the other side of the world. The thought of having to get changed into his robes in front of Potter flashed in his mind and he went slightly pink, but managed to hide it a little better then the other young male. Harry mumbled something almost incomprehensible. Something along the lines of 'yeah, well, I was lucky to get a cupboard…' Sighing a little he stretched, crumbs of his own falling off his shirt and pants. Not time to get changed yet, he decided. He wondered once again why he hadn't moved compartments. Oh, it wasn't really ithat/i bad... was it?

Young Malfoy glanced at Harry's face. His wire rimmed glasses, although round, suited his face, and the scar could be seen between messy black streaks of hair. He followed the scar down the middle of his face and found his nose, remembering last year's visit when he had stomped on it. He had a reason- Potter needed to learn not to 'nose' in on other people's business. But, of course he still hadn't learned not to eavesdrop. He looked away and shuffled about, making himself comfortable. The chair was long, but his feet found themselves dangling over the edge. Harry himself was sprawled across his seat- sadly, though; his feet just reached the end. Seeing Malfoy's feet hanging over, he scowled to himself. Only Hermione and Ginny seemed to be shorter than him, now, and that was only by a few centimetres! What was this- some joke? Ah, Merlin seemed to hate him, as of late. Grumbling and pulling himself into a ball, he examined Draco's face. Stormy eyes that seemed to lack that spark. His face was gaunt, yet still, he admitted grudgingly, good looking. Sighing, he closed his eyes. The train took them further and soon the lights flickered on in their small compartment, signalling night time and the time of which to put ones robes on. Malfoy was going to be a good boy and dress himself- away from Harry's prying eyes however. "Keep those eyes closed Potter," he growled, just to make it clear he meant business. He faced away from Harry, and quickly removed his shirt and pants, his silk boxers showing as well as his chest. He was blushing but had not entered the stage of magenta. He quickly put his arms in the robe and closed the pins that held it shut so no one could see his body. Harry had no desire at all to see Malfoy without clothing, so he stared out the window, and closed his eyes. Once he heard the boy sit back down, Harry opened his eyes. "You can return the favour," he growled back, taking his robe out, scowling at the little silver pin. Quidditch Captain... Sighing, he went to pull it off. He was still supposed to wear it, in case they wanted to restart the teams, but he was in doubt it was going to happen... Still, a little hope there. Instead of removing it, he just scowled at it, pulled on his uniform, and tugged the robe on over top. Draco rolled his eyes and closed them as asked, humming to himself in a very dead tone. "Nearly finished?" Draco ventured, not daring to peek unless he caught more then he bargained for. Sure, Potter wasn't the worst looking male, but the thought of him almost naked gave the blond nausea. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and fiddled with it, thinking about suspending Harry in mid-air once they reached the castle. He highly doubted that would go down well with the teachers, however.

"I'm finished, Malfoy," he ground out between gritted teeth. He was indeed dressed now. Sitting down on the floor next to his trunk, sorting his things out. This year his trunk had a few extra things- birthday cards, presents from past years, and the like. He wouldn't be going back to the Dursley's again- and he knew that he wouldn't hear from them at all. Sighing a little at that knowledge- a sigh of relief- the boy snapped his trunk shut before he could be jeered at. Draco opened one eye first then the other when the coast was clear. "Good then," he muttered, and noticed the train was ever so slightly slowing down. He shoved his wand into his pocket and looked out at the castle that loomed ahead far in the distance. But every light was glowing out of its windows, making it seem like a large jack-o lantern. "We're nearly there," he muttered and grinned. He didn't have to worry about Snape this year, even if they had been friends in the past.

"Your powers of observation astound me," Harry mused sarcastically, his voice somewhat dry. Though, he did stand up, putting his owl back in her cage, and putting her cage up on top of his trunk. He gripped the handle of his Firebolt, and sighed at the train slowed to a halt. The train ride was over- they'd be back to rivals. Instead of just... less than friends, he decided. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at Harry's little comment and grabbed up his Nimbus 2001. It was true that he was less then the perfect Mr. Potter at Quidditch, but he was captain of Slytherin, just in case they decided to play that excellent sport. He knew that he only got it because he was the only player on the Slytherin team that had stayed and been playing since his second year. This didn't bother him- he was much too important to be running after a Quidditch team making sure they won the cup. However much he'd love to squash Potter at the game.

Sighing, and taking Hedwig's cage and his trunk a little awkwardly (it was hard to do with the Firebolt) Harry shoved the door open with his toe, not saying anything to Malfoy. In any case, when Ron and Hermione saw them both leave the same carriage, they were... shocked, perhaps. Shrugging that off a little uncomfortably, Harry wandered out to the Thestrel drawn carriages. No first years, so he watched Hagrid row back across the lake silently, alone. That tugged at his heart a little, and he clambered into a carriage by himself, resisting the urge to join his half- giant friend.

Taking the same carriage into the castle would take it a little too far, so Draco didn't even try it. Instead he caught up with Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise and Pansy, and joined them in their Thestrel pulled cart. Pansy, unable to squish anywhere between the boys, chose her seat carefully, making this an excuse to sit on Draco's lap. He however took this in his stride and pretended, once more, to enjoy her company. However, his gut told him that something wasn't quite right with the black haired girl on his lap, but he had no idea what that was… But he would figure it out as the days went by, he supposed.

Harry was perfectly content on the half hour ride by himself, dozing gently. Being jolted to a stop, the dark haired boy woke slowly, and jumped out. It was dark, and he felt somewhat disorientated. Bumping into someone, he muttered his apologies, leaving his things in the carriage as was customary, and walking into the Great Hall. To his surprise, there was only one large table, and the teachers table. McGonagall rose as they swarmed in. "This year," she announced, "The Houses will eat together. I do not expect childish bickering over the arrangement- it is not going to change. So please, be seated." With that, she sat down again. Blinking owlishly, Harry looked around, and chose a seat by Ginny, who was talking to Luna- he wouldn't have to worry about being pestered, at least. Draco listened to McGonagall's statement with slight hatred. Sitting together? He followed his friends up to the other end of the table and made sure no one sat around them. Slytherin's after all, weren't social animals. He was shoved between Pansy, who was telling him how much she had missed him over the holidays, and Blaise who was secretly checking Ginny out from where he sat at the end of their little group. Draco was nodding his head at Pansy but not talking… never talking.

Sighing, Harry slowly dug in. Ron shot him a worried glance, but at Hermione's sharp look, turned away. About two potatoes, a chicken drumstick and a part of a piece of sweet potato later, the Boy Who Lived sat back a little, no longer hungry. He eyed off a certain blond Slytherin, to see how he was faring. He couldn't really see, because of Pansy's head, but he shrugged that off. He didn't care, anyway.

Draco was not allowed to take up a few chips and finish. Pansy was practically swamping his plate, telling him he must eat, in a rather hysterical manner. He rolled his eyes and ate a drumstick, and a bit of pork. "Anymore and I'll puke," he said pretending to gag. She scrunched her nose in disgust. "Alright, alright." Draco thanked her and he so desperately wanted to leave the hall. He could feel eyes upon him and looked down the rows of heads to greet Harry's green eyes. "What?" he mouthed, slightly nastily.

Feeling a little hurt, Harry just glared, snapping his head back around to the front. Ginny was staring up the table, but blushed and looked at Harry at his sudden movement. Taking a leaf out of Pansy's book, she tried to wheedle Harry into eating some more. "Oh, come on.. You hardly ate at home, either. What's wrong?"

Assuring Ginny, with some amusement, that he did NOT have an eating disorder, he took another bite of sweet potato to humour her. "Better?" he asked after a moment. She looked at him for another moment, and finally nodded. "It'll do," she muttered. Ever since the two had broken up, they'd been happier- and better friends than ever before.

Draco sighed and the other's looked at him as if their god was displeased. "I'm fine," he chipped in. He was however, not fine. Something was different, something was wrong- it didn't help that a bunch of the younger year students were whispering with one another about rumours they'd heard involving his father- as if they were so thick as to not realise they were heard by everyone. He glanced back at Harry. Why did he do this? Was it just a reflex action, or something more? He shook his head to clear it, and picked at his food with his forefinger and thumb.

Grumbling something about girls who worried too much, Harry rested his head in his hands. God, he needed to sleep... Waiting for his un-touched desert to disappear, he looked up to the front table, where McGonagall had risen again. As she dismissed them all, he got up jerkily, leaving quickly. He didn't, however, head to Gryffindor tower. With a quick word to Remus, his new head of house, in McGonagall's place, he walked on the way to the Room of Requirement. Pacing back and forwards a few times, feeling the Invisibility Cloak and Marauders Map that he always kept in his pocket, he thought to himself, 'I need a place to relax... somewhere I can just think.' An ornate door handle appeared, and Harry walked in. It was a small room. Polished wooden floors, a few comfy armchairs, and a rug in front of a small fireplace. A low table sat in the centre of the rug, a chessboard on it. Instead of black and white pieces, there were red and green pieces, and cushions to sit on. Harry smiled, curling up into one of the chairs. Taking his glasses off, he sank into a slow doze.

"Where are you going Draco?" Pansy asked, questioning the reason why he was walking off toward the main staircase instead of down to the cold dungeons. "For a walk," he mumbled, so as not to be heard by Head boys, girls or teachers. He slipped up, following some of the other houses and walked off toward the room of requirement. He was tired, but more importantly, he needed to think. He walked back and forth thinking to himself. 'I need a place to relax... somewhere I can just think.' The door appeared. Happily opening the door, he realised that the room occupied another- Mr Potter himself. Draco turned to leave, and Harry jumped. Who had gotten in here? No one should have, unless they thought the exact same thing as he had... Turning, he looked at Draco Malfoy with wide eyes. "Oh... I'm sorry," he muttered, and got up, to leave. "Here... my common room is probably less crowded than yours…" He didn't know why he was being so nice, but it was just instinct. Probably for self-preservation. Shrugging, he pushed his glasses back onto his nose. Draco spun back around, but he didn't move out of Harry's way. "Perfectly fine. You thought of here first, after all," he said with a half-hearted chuckle. "Y- you should stay," he managed to blurt out, and he felt his cheeks burn. The place did look nice, the chairs weren't girlie, nor were they butch for a guy. Very cosy, and for once, he could compliment a room. "Good thinking," Draco said looking around the tasteful suite. "I'm sure we can think in here together," he added, wishing he could hold his tongue. His face was on fire and he was sure he'd need water to put it out.

Looking slightly taken aback, Harry's own face flamed to life. "Yeah," he replied, stepping back, blinking. He put himself back into the cozy chair, taking his glasses back off, letting Malfoy slip back past. For a moment, he thought the other boy was going to hex him, from the lack of sound in the room. Pulling his knees to his chest, and gripping his wand, Harry found that there was no tense feeling in the room- not the normal type, in any case. The air was suffocating, somewhat like water, and Draco sat down looking at Harry without his glasses. It didn't seem normal to see him without them. It made his face seem… naked, for lack of a better word. He curled up on his own armchair and stared off into space. He was alone with Harry Potter, no snide remarks, no hatred boiling, it almost seemed all right, to be with him like this. But still, something was missing. They were close, and not so over the top close that you'd need pliers to pry them apart, which was good… right?

Not noticing the other boys thoughts or facial expression, or physical being, even, in the room, Harry lost himself in stupid thoughts. Sirius, for instance. What would he think of Remus and Tonks- his cousin and best friend? Or, his parents. Would they have had one of the horcruxes? Or, were they killed to make more? Or was only his father? Why had Voldemort hesitated to kill Lily Potter? Thinking of this bought hot tears to his eyes for some reason, and again, he felt pathetic. Dumbledore. McGonagall wouldn't let him see him. So how was he supposed to do anything without the guidance of the white bearded wizard? So now, the green eyed boy felt both pathetic, and useless. Brilliant, he thought to himself, and again, when did I get so soft?

Draco blinked a few times at Harry, a dumb expression coming over his face. "Wow Potter, turn down the water works," he muttered watching salty tears drizzle out of his closed eyes. He raised an eyebrow. For a start, why was he crying? For another- should he go? He wasn't the best at comforting people; he didn't usually get to close to someone in that regard, anyway.

Grumbling, snapping out of his thoughts, and horrified that he was caught, he swiped angrily at his face. "Told you I should have left," he muttered, sighing. He suddenly had the urge to hit something, hard. To his horror, a punching bag appeared. He'd forgotten where he was, and what happened when he wanted things. Harry looked helplessly at Draco. "I.. It's not your fault," he muttered to him, again, and wished the bag away quickly. The blond watched him with interest as he spoke, he would have replied, but the bag appeared swinging down from the roof. He let out a giggle then blushed. Oh great, first Potter crying now him giggling… he only giggled when something amused him greatly, which wasn't very often. He watched the bag disappear and shook his head. "I take no offence, but seriously Potter, you're back at Hogwarts; don't you love this place?" He was thick- He had no idea why the pale boy had been crying but took it as a feeling of homesickness. The dark haired boy looked amused at the giggle, but his face turned stony again a moment later. "Yes. I do." He knew what Draco was thinking- and was astounded. How would he be homesick, when he had no home? "And... you have those things in the wizard world?" He was, of course, referring to the punching bag.

"I make it my business to know about the muggles. Even if I dislike them doesn't mean I'm clueless, I read books." He nodded as if to make it known that Draco Malfoy wasn't stupid and could read like any seventeen-year-old male. "Of course if your pissed off about something, it's now my business too- unfortunately." He added the last part, making it all part of the act. He was curious, and now he craved to know what was in the other's head. Smirking, Harry looked up. "I don't see how that's your business, Malfoy," he told him dejectedly. All the same, he placed his glasses back on his nose, and settled back down, no move to get up again. "You could just ask if you want to know what I'm thinking about. You obviously know I'm thinking." He was referring to the way he'd got into the room. "But why would I tell you?" Grinning again, he stared into the fire. Draco opened his mouth to retort but couldn't think of anything good to say to that. He sighed and blew upward, a few yellow locks flying before flopping back into his eyes. "Alright Potter, try me. I will try not to be too evil. Tell me what's on your mind." He crossed his legs and puts his hands together on his lap feeling much like a Psychiatrist, which he had also read about in some book about muggle occupation.

Blinking slowly, and bursting into humourless laughter, Harry shook his head for a moment. "Fine, Malfoy." He didn't know what made him do it, but he told him. It was blunt, but he'd said it to his rival before he said it to his best friends. "I'm thinking that Sirius would be pissed off at Remus and Tonks, that my Mum could have had a prevented death, Dad died to save Voldemort's soul, and that Dumbledore can't help me because McGonagall has forbidden me from seeing his portrait." Shrugging, he turned back to the fire. "Stupid, I know."

Draco listened to him and unfolded his legs giving up on that stance. "All right then here we go: Why do you feel that Sirius would be pissed off with errm… Remus and Tonks? How could your mum have prevented death? Are you talking about the horcruxes cause jeez; not many people know about them and last but not least, what's McGonagall got up her arse? I knew you were close to Dumbledore, however I shared the opposite view, but you shouldn't be shunned from him." He frowned and shook his head. "It's not stupid at all."

Harry blinked. "You know about the horcruxes?" He smiled slightly, though. "Surprisingly, you're good for something. That helped..." He didn't elaborate on the rest- he didn't need to. Shrugging, he offered a proper smile. "So, Malfoy... sickle for your thoughts?"

"I usually charge Galleons," he joked and shook his head. "For the boy-who-lived, free of charge." His eyes lingered on the boy's face for a few seconds but he roved off to look at the bright flames in the fire. It was nice sitting by it, feeling warm. "But yes, I know about the horcruxes, The Dark Lord told me reluctantly, before I stuffed up his mission. There aren't any left, Potter." He dragged off. Harry would have no idea what he was talking about, and honestly he didn't want him to know. Thinking about it made him sick to the stomach.

"Killing Dumbledore." Harry's voice was even. "Snape had to do it." He moved out of the chair, sitting by the chessboard, examining the pieces. The red ones were a clear ruby colour, gold inlayed. He smirked at the King. More of a leader face to him. He picked up the emerald piece opposite it. Clear green emerald with silver. Gryffindor, and Slytherin, obviously. The green King looked more... regal, he supposed. He gently placed the pieces back down. Settling onto one of the cushions, he stared into the fire himself, almost wishing it reflected the rest of the room. He wondered how Dra- MALFOY- would respond.

His lips went dry and he got a funny feeling around his mid-drift. How had he known? He frowned and came over to the chessboard, and for lack of anything better to do he sat down and moved a pawn forward. "How did you know?" he asked, the words coming to him slowly, his face loosing all trace of colour. "You probably hate me for even thinking about it… For almost trying to, but… How did you know?" Draco repeated with curious worry. Harry moved his own pawn forward two spaces. The one to the far right. It was obvious it wasn't wizard chess. "Because," he said carefully, "I was there." He didn't say anything about hating the other boy, though. Watching the board, not meeting those grey eyes, Harry sighed.

"Oh..." Draco flushed and moved another green pawn- that was on his left forward so the two pawns faced each other. "So you saw everything?" He hated to admit it, but he felt like a coward, like he had no backbone. He looked down at the chess pieces, the light from the fire flickering on them, making them seem alive.

Harry nodded. "Yeah," he told him, moving his second pawn. "I didn't think you... Nothing." Sighing, he let go of the red piece. Draco moved his Knight. "Didn't think what?" he asked, and raised a hardly visible eyebrow. "That I'd kill him?" He whispered this; not sure the heavens would like it if he said it out loud. He shook his head. "Even if that's not it, I'm not a killer it seems, I take mercy." Draco fiddled with his robe, feeling slightly bad. Harry shook his head, sighing, and putting the pieces back. "Not that. I..." His cheeks flushed. "I didn't think that you'd be such a bastard," he mumbled. It wasn't an insult, it was more disbelief. "I knew you were an arsehole.. but that..." He shook his head. Draco put his pieces back too, understanding entirely. "Look, Harry." He paused to lick his still dry lips. "I do it because I'm scared. I like the power I hold on people, and if I don't act like an arse... I'm scared I'll loose that power." It took him a few seconds to realise he had called him Harry but when he did he didn't care, they weren't themselves at the moment, so he figured it'd be fine. Blinking, Harry shoved himself away. "I know," he told him, almost hissing. "Malfoy... you aren't your father. Don't try to be him." He hesitated for a moment. "You... you don't need to be an arse to have power," he whispered. "I... I know I'd rather you.. You were you. You seem like a copy of Lucius."

Draco couldn't help but snap. "I'm not my father," was his instant bitten out reply, but he then hung his head. "No, you're right. I am just like him." Pulling his legs to his chest, he wrapped his arms around them. "I try to hard to be like him… Follow his footsteps-because I am scared he's going to hate me, to disown me as his son." It was his turn to cry a few tears that caught his tongue and made him scrunch up his face.

Feeling like Draco had before- somewhat helpless- he reached out a tentative hand. "D... Draco?"

He touched his elbow, flinching as though expecting to be hit. "I... I'm sorry... Just... just don't... don't be like him." He was amazed. If he were Draco- No, Malfoy- he wouldn't want to be like his father- and wouldn't care if he was disowned.

He stared at Harry's hand on his arm, and flipped his own upward to take it. "I won't be my father any more." He said one of his tears landing on Harry's hand. He glanced up at him and managed to smile, nothing like his hateful smirks. A smile that said 'Thank you.'

Looking startled, he couldn't help but gripping back, that hand.. It was so cold, but... warm, at the same time. His face flushed. "Thank you..." The blond boys tear slid down to rest between the clasped hands, and that was when Harry really realised what he was doing. Flushing so much his face could rival Ron's hair, he didn't pull back just yet. The room seemed to have heated up during the few minutes, although they felt like years of holding hands. Draco wasn't exactly sweating, but he didn't feel very great. He slowly slid his hand away, breaking the contact and although embarrassed, loosened his robe, a bit of chest showing through. Harry had already started to loosen his own- the room iwas/i heating up. Maybe that was just him? His stomach flip flopped at the thought of holding hands with Malfoy, but... it wasn't, he was surprised to find out, the kind of flip flop that made you want to throw up. It was... a good flip flop, he decided, and his eyes widened at his revelation. No way. Turning his face away quickly to hide his now flaming cheeks, Harry Potter wondered how one could feel like that for someone he hated. Of course he didn't, he scolded himself, and snorted. It was simply that he was emotional, and that made him disgusted with himself. But… the blond didn't seem to be that bastard he was before, and that almost made the dark haired boy smile.

It was unfortunate that Draco couldn't put the fire out, purely because it was their source of light. However, forgetting this was the room of requirement, it changed to accommodate his needs, candles floated over head and the fire went out, but it didn't help the heat- it didn't change a thing. To make matters worse, the candles were slightly romantic, but he wouldn't think about them that way, because he felt nothing for Harry Potter. Harry himself noticed the lack of the heat loss, and sighed a bit. How strange... His flaming cheeks seemed to have calmed down by now, however, so he turned back to Malfoy. His head of house knew where he was, but what about Draco's...? "Malfoy?" he asked tentatively. Draco looked at him and nodded. "Potter?" He wondered what was on his mind now and stared at the candlelight flickering off his face and reflecting in his glasses. His fingers dwindled on his robes catch again, so hot, he needed some cool. He released another, more of his chest noticeable, not helping much however, and he stopped fiddling and waited. "Does... does Slughorn know you're here?" He hesitated. "Because, if you wanted, I could let Remus know... he wouldn't mind telling Slughorn..." He trailed off, realising something. Stupid, he told himself. Very stupid. As if the Slytherin Prince wanted to be in here with him, the Golden Boy. And, he thought with a small smirk, as if he wanted him here. He'd come here first. But Draco smiled. "He has no idea actually." His eyes lingered upon Harry's. "Surely you wouldn't want me to stay much longer?" the blond asked, trying to act casual. "However, I would be happy to stick around a little while longer." He, not owning a watch, wondered the time. How long had they been there? Did it really matter?

"I... I don't... I don't mind," he murmured, pulling out a two way mirror, and cursing at himself. Why had he let him stay? Ugh. Now he had to let him- he wouldn't go back on what he had said. Remus now had Sirius' mirror, and he had fixed his own over the holidays. "Remus?" He explained the situation in an undertone, not knowing who else was there, and Remus nodded. Smiling, he put the mirror away, after asking the time. "It's twelve thirty," he muttered to Draco. The blond's eyes widened slightly, both at the mention of the time and the device in his hand. "I've never seen one of those before." He muttered and moved around the chess table just so he could check it out closer. He glanced at the mirror and then smiled. "Clever device Potter," Draco said, his eyes travelling up and down the mirror. "Careful. Don't admire yourself too much," Harry said, smirking slightly. He did, however, hand the piece of glass to him, trusting him. "It... It was my Dad's. Sirius had the other one.. Remus has it now." He suddenly noticed something about the chess board that made him laugh. "Look, Malfoy," he mumbled. The pieces, even though not from Wizard Chess, were curled up, sleeping.

A blush overtook his cheeks and the blonds eye's roved away- he too had noticed the sleeping chess pieces and smiled. "That should be us s-soon." He yawned, not particularly tired, but his body was telling him that his internal clock was reading bedtime. Laughing, Harry stood, stretching like a cat, and taking the mirror back. He curled into an armchair. "Yeah. I.. I'm going to stay here, I think." He didn't want to face Ron asking where he'd been- he'd rather just turn up to breakfast late, and rush off to his first class- Herbology. Draco nodded and chose a seat across from him. "I agree," he muttered and stretched out so his feet and an arm hung down to almost touch the floor. He shuffled down further and looked across at Harry. "Night Potter." He spoke, and then closed his eyes, instantly in the land of slumber. Blinking his green eyes in surprise, Harry shrugged to himself, and lay back in his own chair, pulling his glasses off, and curling up. He undid a few more clasps on the robe so he didn't strangle himself in the time he slept, and drifted off to sleep. The candles went out- they'd be on the next morning, though. Alas- that was what the room was made for.


So, what did you think? Review, people! cookies and glomps and love for all