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The characters and universe in this work are property of J.K Rowling.

Draco barely made it a week before he could no longer bear to force himself to sleep. A week of waking up in cold sweats, a week of trying to hide the worsening bags under his eyes, a week of reaching for his wand as soon as his eyes flew open. Draco was sick of feeling powerless, so that night he waited under his blankets until rhythmic snores could be heard from Gregory's bed. Weasley had been out for an hour at that point, and Potter had not yet returned to their dorm that night. Draco felt his lip curl at the idea of what Potter could be doing out so late but did not bother to dwell on the thought. Instead, he pushed himself quietly off his mattress, careful not to wake either of the room's occupants, and crept across the floor. Draco breathed more easily once the door was shut behind him, and he slipped down the stairs as silently as a wraith.

Once he'd seen the common room was empty, Draco descended the remaining steps and examined the fire crackling by the couch. Draco assumed that an elf had been by recently, as it was still going steadily, but shivered and added another log to it anyway. Utterly exhausted, he sank down onto the couch behind him and pulled a throw blanket over his lap. He was rather cosy, but it was only after he had done this that Draco realised he had forgotten to grab his book on his way out of the dorm. He had just resigned himself to go back for it when the door to the common room opened, and he froze, halfway to standing.

It was only Potter, but Draco's fight or flight instinct kicked in anyway. This was because Potter was doing something Draco didn't think he'd ever seen him do. Potter seemed to be crying. He also seemed to have not yet noticed Draco as he knocked past a lone chair and sat himself quite roughly on the couch. It was only after Draco coughed quietly that Potter turned his face toward him. Draco felt his stomach lurch when he saw Potter's face up close. Draco was horrid at this sort of thing. He never knew what to do when someone was crying. Should he leave? Pat Potter on the back and tell him it would be okay?

"I'm sorry – " Draco started.

"Sorry – " Potter accidentally cut him off, looking quite sheepish as he scrubbed at his face.

"Do you want me to go?" Draco asked, still poised to leave.

"No, please, don't go on my account," Potter said and scooted over on the couch. "No reason we can't both be here, right?"

"Right," Draco said slowly and sat back down.

He spent what felt like the next several hours staring down at his slippers, wishing more than anything that he had just gone back up to the dormitory. Draco could tell by the uncomfortable silence that fell between them that Potter was just as embarrassed by this as he was. Knowing this, however, did nothing to help Draco as he was still stuck on the couch next to Potter who had definitely been crying for reasons Draco was sure were none of his business. He had just resolved that he would not ask Potter about this when he cracked.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked, and then immediately kicked himself.

"What?"

Draco wanted to hit him.

"You came in crying," he tried again. "I was just wondering if you were alright."

"Oh, right," Potter said, and Draco thought he would leave it at that. "It seems I've just broken up with my girlfriend."

Of all the things Harry Potter could have told him, Draco had not expected it to be that.

"Oh?" Draco pulled his legs up onto the couch and hid them under the blanket. "Why's that?" he asked, mostly because it was what he thought he should do.

Potter was gnawing at his lip in such a way that Draco knew would draw blood if he didn't stop soon.

"Well, I don't know if we've really broken up, but we're also not together right now? And we won't be for a while. It was my idea, actually, so I'm not sure why I'm crying like this, and we're only supposed to be taking some time off."

Draco said nothing as Potter scrubbed at his eyes and wiped his nose.

"Sort of like a gap year? Just to see if what we have is real, y'know? Because I think I love her, I really do, but what if that was just what came out of the war? What if we only thought we felt that way because we might have died at any moment, so we figured we'd just make the best of it? I don't want to be with someone just because of that, you know?" Potter turned to Draco, and Draco nodded, though he did not follow anything Potter was saying. "It's only for a year, just to see. Then if we still feel the same way, we'll get back together. It's a good plan, right?"

Draco found himself nodding again, though he thought it was anything but. It sounded like a lousy plan to him, and he knew that if he were Ginevra Weasley, he would be too busy plotting ten thousand ways to hex Potter into the next century to be crying. Draco suddenly felt a bout of pity for Potter's near future. Weasley was likely to lose his cool when he found out, and Draco did not know whose side Granger would be inclined to take in that fight. Draco just hoped he wasn't around when it happened. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Draco reached a hand over to awkwardly pat Potter's shoulder as a fresh wave of tears rolled down his cheeks.

"It'll be alright, you'll see," Draco said, but could hear himself how weak the reassurance sounded. "Is that where you've just come from?" he asked, though he did not really care. Draco just wanted Potter to stop crying.

"Not quite. I stopped by the kitchen to visit Winky. She's been doing better since the end of the war. I think having something to look after has helped her."

As Draco had no idea who Winky was, nor what she was meant to be looking after, he kept his mouth shut and nodded again. He retracted his hand once it seemed Potter would not start crying again and was about to push himself up from the couch when Potter turned his face toward him. He'd never noticed how green Potter's eyes were, but Draco supposed they may have only looked that way because he'd been crying.

"I'm sorry about your godfather."

If there were anything Draco could have expected to hear from Potter, it would never have been that. All at once it felt like the wind was knocked from Draco's lungs and an icy chill fell over his skin. Draco was horrified to feel tears prick his own eyes and hurried to wipe them away before they could fall. He wanted to snap at Potter, to tell him to shut up and mind his own business, but he could read no malice on Potter's face, and Draco was just so tired of being mean.

"Thank you," Draco finally said when the storm in his chest had subsided. "I know it's a few years too late, but I'm sorry about yours too. After knowing what it feels like…" Draco broke off, unsure of what he had planned to say after that. "I know that you despised him, so it means more to me coming from you, I suppose."

"I think it was a mutual despising," Potter said in what sounded suspiciously like a joking tone. "But he was a good man in the end. Someone you could depend on. He saved my life, you know. More times than I probably ever heard about."

"I know," Draco said, nodding. "He protected me when I needed it most. But, as it always seems to happen, I never really gave him a proper thank you for any of it. I think that's what's really been bothering me since he died. That, and the funeral. It may as well have only been for Mother and I. It was just us and some ugly bloke neither of us knew. He looked older than Merlin, and he didn't say anything the entire time."

Draco looked over toward Potter when he did not say anything and found, to his supreme annoyance, that he looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"And what about that seems funny to you? The fact that no one came? Because I suppose that's just extremely hilarious for someone so famous, but not all of us have-"

"Draco, please!" Potter interrupted him, looking mortified as he waved his hands for Draco to stop. "That was me! I was in disguise, because I didn't want to intrude on the ceremony for you and your mother. I figured it would be a better memory if I weren't tarnishing it for you, but when you described how I looked, I really couldn't help it. All I'd done was age myself by about twenty years. Did I really look that horrible?"

Draco was silent for a long moment before he let out a laugh that had him bending at the waist.

"Potter, you may as well marry yourself off now, because if that's what you'll look like in twenty years, I and the rest of the wizarding world will be pitying you," Draco said once he had caught his breath.

Draco found no real threat behind it when Potter stuck a hand out and pushed him, but broke down in a fit of giggles at the look on his face.

"That's really not very nice. Are you saying I'll only get married because of my devilish good looks?"

"No, of course not, but I am saying that you are certainly in your prime and that every day you continue living, you are on a steady decline," Draco quipped.

"Well, then," Potter sniffed and turned his nose into the air, looking both dignified and ridiculous all at once. Pausing, he smiled, but then his mind seemed to wander. "Aren't you hot? This fire's practically got me sweating."

"I'm perfectly fine," Draco shrugged. "I think it's actually pretty cosy. I'd meant to bring my book down with me, but I forgot it."

"And what's got you reading a book in the common room so late at night?" Potter asked, reminding Draco why he found him so annoying. "It's almost three, haven't you had enough studying for today?"

"I wasn't studying. Mind you, some of us read books just for the fun of it."

"Blimey, you sound like 'Mione. I'd never met anyone before the two of you who read just to read. You didn't answer my question though, why are you still up? We've got class tomorrow, and this isn't really like you."

"Are you always so nosy?" Draco snapped and rolled his eyes. Why did Potter have to go and spoil everything? They had been doing so well up to that point. "Forgive me, but we've been on speaking terms for less than a week. I don't think that makes you entitled to ask me questions I don't feel like answering."

"Maybe, but that was before I cried in front of you and told you my tragic tale. I sort of think that entitles me to a free pass here."

"I didn't ask for that!" Merlin, Potter was impossible.

"You sort of did, though. I mean, you sat there and gave me those big eyes and asked me if I was alright. You may as well have slipped Veritaserum into my pumpkin juice at dinner."

"You're an idiot, Potter," Draco drew himself up to sulk off to their dorm but stopped when Potter grabbed his wrist.

"Wait, Draco, I'm sorry. Please don't leave just yet."

"Why shouldn't I?" Draco grumbled, but sat down anyway, once again. "You've both verbally and physically accosted me now. I've half a mind to report you, but I know it won't go anywhere."

Draco was joking, but only just.

"I won't push you any farther, but it truly would mean something to me if you could tell me what's troubling you," Potter answered, releasing his arm.

When Draco raised his eyes to meet Potter's, he was filled with a sudden, overwhelming urge to hit him. One of them knew how to "give the eyes", as Potter said, and it certainly wasn't Draco. He knew Potter was manipulating him, he knew Potter just wanted something over him now that Draco knew about Ginevra, and he knew that Potter couldn't possibly care about his nightmares. He knew that Potter probably thought deep down that Draco deserved them. What Draco didn't know was why he felt the need to tell Potter about them anyway.

"I get nightmares," Draco said. He was surprised to find that he did not feel any worse for the confession. "I have them nightly, and they seem very real. I had gotten good at distinguishing them from reality during the summer, but since I got my letter to return to Hogwarts, they have been harder to differentiate than usual. I am also no longer capable of waking myself up when I realize they are dreams, so I must ride them out to their end," Draco paused and lightened his tone. "That's why I'm down here tonight. I was avoiding sleep in the hopes that I may get one night of peace, but you have seen to it that that will not be happening tonight."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your peace," Harry answered, both apologetic and playful. "I'm sure you weren't anticipating dealing with my mess tonight."

"No," Draco agreed, but cracked a smile. "But it wasn't all that bad. It was actually nice to have company, even if it was you, Potter."

"I will take that as the highest form of praise Draco Malfoy can give. I am extremely honoured." Potter gave a deep bow, which made him look more like he was feeling sick as he was still sat on the couch.

Draco gave a little laugh and once again felt a surge of annoyance toward Harry Potter, this time because it seemed he had a penchant for prying Draco's deepest secrets out of him, working him up to frenzied anger, and making him laugh all in five minutes. It was a roller coaster ride Draco had not expected to be taken on, and if there was one thing Draco hated these days, it was the unexpected. He found himself smiling anyway and settled back onto the couch.

"What was this book you're reading anyway? One Hundred Ways to Do In the Famous Bloke Who Won't Leave You Alone Without Getting Caught?" Harry asked and nudged Draco's knee with the toe of his shoe.

"No, not tonight – that's tomorrow night." Draco rolled his eyes. "I've been reading some muggle classics. Their imaginations are much better than ours it seems. I'd ask if you'd read Frankenstein, but you outed yourself earlier as illiterate."

Draco didn't miss Potter's raised eyebrows, nor did he miss the way Potter's mouth dropped as he went on. Draco would have been lying if he said that he didn't enjoy surprising Potter for once.

"No, I haven't, but any bloke who knows anything about muggles knows about Frankenstein! He's that green guy with the scars and the bolts sticking out of his neck. My cousin Dudley wanted to be him for Halloween one year, but Aunt Petunia stuffed him into a Superman costume instead."

"Well, the book seems to be a good bit different from what muggles really make the monster out to be. For starters, did you know the monster doesn't actually have a name? It's the doctor who's called Frankenstein. He's created without one, and he's never given any sort of identity, so it's no wonder he wanted to kill Victor. If I felt abandoned like that, I'd probably be tempted to kill someone as well," Draco said lightly. "Who's this Dudley and Petunia though? I thought you had no family."

"It's complicated," Potter answered. "I don't really like talking about them all that much."

"Oh, that's rich coming from you," Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Coming from the guy who pestered me into divulging private information."

"Alright, alright, but please don't look at me with pity, or act like you're surprised, or even breathe differently," Potter said and looked straight into Draco's eyes. The intensity there made him cringe. "You have to promise me."

"Fine, Potter, I promise. I had no idea you were this interesting," Draco bantered, trying to lighten the mood.

"Here goes," Potter took a short breath, and Draco was beginning to regret pressuring him into this. "I was raised by my aunt and uncle who hate magic and hated me for being thrown into their lives. I have a cousin, Dudley, who's around the same age as me. Where they gave him everything, they gave me nothing, and I may have lived in a cupboard for a while. They were horrible to me for seventeen years of my life, but I don't have to deal with any of them anymore, so I'm really doing just fine."

The words fell out of Potter's mouth in such a rush that Draco struggled a bit to keep up. He got the main message, though. Draco had grown up receiving anything he wished for, and often more, to the point that he did not know what it was to want something. He'd had no idea that Potter had been treated that way. Draco found himself wondering how Potter had turned out to be as good as he was. Yes, good, for as much as Draco tried to hate Potter for all those years, he had always had one recurring thought; Potter was good. To be frank, Potter was far better than they all deserved.

"No, stop that, stop it right now," Potter's demand snapped Draco back to reality.

"Stop what?" he asked, annoyed.

"You're crying," Potter said, his voice a little softer. "Please don't feel bad for me or feel like you have to treat me differently. I'm still the same person you fought with for seven years, you've just happened to unlock my tragic backstory."

Draco brushed the tears away from under his eyes and wondered when he had started crying. He had to pull it together before he lost it completely.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," he answered brusquely. "I almost forgot for a moment that we're mortal enemies and that I hate you."

Both boys found themselves laughing weepily at that, and when it subsided, Potter reached out a hand toward Draco.

"What do you say, Draco? Things are pretty crazy these days. It'll be good to have the right group of people behind us."

"I think I can tell the right sort for myself, thanks," Draco answered and let Potter dangle, shocked, for only a moment before he laughed and took his hand. "I've been waiting to get you back for that for seven years. You've no idea how bad it hurt my feelings; I was crushed!"

"So, that meant you had to terrorise me for the rest of my life?" Potter asked incredulously. "I'm starting to have some regrets about this whole thing."

"Too late, you can't take back a hand offered in friendship," Draco declared and gave a shrug. "Sorry, I don't make the rules."

Draco felt his good mood falter when Potter gave a long yawn. He pulled himself in tighter on the couch and offered his new friend a smile before he jerked his head towards the stairwell.

"Get up to bed, Potter. You look dead on your feet. I'll be fine on my own for a few hours."

"I'd argue with you, but I'm too tired to," Potter answered and pushed himself up to his feet. He was swaying as he moved to the stairs, but Draco was confident he would make it up. "Night, Draco."

"Good night, Potter."

...

Any hopes Draco had of a peaceful breakfast crumbled around him when Weasley came charging into the Great Hall, Granger in pursuit and whispering things to him. Gregory and Potter were already sitting with him at the table, and Draco had a sinking suspicion that he knew what it was that had Weasley's face so red. Judging from the way Potter tensed and took a deep breath, Draco knew he did too.

"My little sister!" Weasley bellowed when he was close enough. "How dare you mess around with her and then dump her like she meant nothing!"

Potter had chosen to sit next to Draco that morning, a fact that he could tell Gregory found just as weird as he did from the way his friend kept casting glances at Potter. However, this meant that Draco had to turn on the bench to watch what was unfolding as Potter had stood up to meet Weasley when he'd entered.

"Ron, it's not what you think."

"Not what I think?! She's only bloody gone and holed herself up in her room, she has!" Weasley continued to shout over Potter's attempts to calm him. "Says you think you should take a break, because now you might not die anymore!"

Even Draco had to cringe at the way that was phrased.

"That's not what happened-"

"And then you have the nerve to come back and sleep in my dorm? You can look me in the face after you've used her and thrown her away? What happened to us being brothers one day, huh? That mean nothing to you now?"

"Ron, you know I love you both-"

Whatever Potter wanted to say did not come out as Weasley leaned forward and gave him a mighty shove. Draco popped up from the bench to stand between them, an act that surprised everyone, including himself.

"Stop, Weasley, you're speaking out of anger. Potter didn't-"

"You stay out of it, you little ferret!" Weasley shouted at him and pushed Draco hard enough that he stumbled back into Potter. "I don't need Death Eater scum telling me how I should or shouldn't react," he snapped.

Draco could hear Granger shouting somewhere in the background, but she was drowned out by the shouts and screams of the students around them. Gregory was on his feet before Draco knew what was happening. He had seized Weasley's shirt collar in one hand and was clenching the other into a fist to strike him when Draco lunged forward and grabbed his arm. He was pulling him back with all his strength, but Gregory had always been stronger than him.

"Gregory, let him go, please, please, I'm fine, just let him go, Gregory," Draco pleaded and felt Gregory's grip on Weasley loosen.

A few more tugs and Draco had pulled him off Weasley completely. He didn't look back as he took Gregory's hand and pulled him out of the Great Hall, nor did he stop until Draco found an alcove far enough away that he couldn't hear the shouting anymore. He pulled Gregory in behind him, and it was only once everything returned to normal speed that Draco realized he was crying, and Gregory shaking. Draco could think of nothing to do but wrap his arms tightly around Gregory, so that was what he did. He buried his face in Gregory's shoulder to hide his tears and felt his friend's arms wrap just as tightly around him.

"I'm sorry," Gregory's voice was hoarse and shaking, though he had not said a word the entire time.

Draco rubbed his back and closed his eyes.

"I know you are," he answered. "I know you just wanted to help me, that's why I stopped you."

"I will never let anyone hurt you."

Draco was quiet for a long time, alternating between patting and rubbing Gregory's back until he had calmed down enough to stop shaking. Draco pulled himself away to check over him, straightening Gregory's tie before giving him a nod of approval.

"Thank you," Gregory said softly. "I don't know what came over me back there. I lost it when I saw him push you. I wanted to do horrible things to him."

"I know," Draco nodded, but gave him a little smile. "But I wouldn't have let you hurt him. I'd never let you hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. I stuck my nose where it didn't belong, anyway. I shouldn't have been surprised that I was bitten."

"Still, he –"

"I know, Gregory, but if we stand here debating what Weasley should or shouldn't have done, we'll be here until we're blue. Now, as you didn't hit anyone, I think you should be getting to class," Draco admonished. "If you put some pep in your step, you'll still make most of charms."

Gregory cast one reluctant look at Draco before he began to walk back down the corridor. Draco waited until Gregory rounded the corner before he went to find Potter and try to clean up the mess he'd made.