Harry's head shot back up at the noise, right hand moving almost instinctively to his wand. He had never imagined he wouldn't be here alone. Every time he had come to this new room at night when he couldn't sleep, it had been empty. When he looked around, he found Draco sitting on the dark leather couch half hidden by shadows. His face was pale and showed no remaining sign of tears, but his grey eyes were puffy and showed a faint hint of pink. It was hard to tell in the limited lighting, but as the Slytherin sniffed a few more times, it seemed fairly clear that he had been crying.

Not that Harry could say any different for himself. Tears still falling down his cheeks, he looked at the other boy and was met with a curious, empty and sad stare. The Gryffindor steadied his breathing and shamelessly wiped the tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his robe. He knew normally they would be at each other's throats by now, had one stumbled onto the private place of the other. For the moment, though, the fact that they both shared a similar level of obvious sadness made it much more tolerable.

Draco only met Harry's gaze for a few moments, before grimacing and turning his face away. He had his feet pulled up onto the couch, and was resting his arms on top of his knees, which had been tucked closely to his chest. The blond laid his cheek on his arms and frowned intently at the grey stone wall. Harry assumed it was fine for him to stay, and wasn't particularly eager to pull himself together and face the population of Hogwarts.

The pair didn't say a word for the next half hour or so. Harry had moved to sit in a chair at the table, and was resting his head on his arms on the tabletop. The silence was broken by only a few deep breaths or sniffs, as the two of them shared their sadness. They were, in fact, strangely comforted knowing they weren't entirely alone, despite who their company happened to be. After about the fourth time they had accidentally made eye contact with each other, Draco spoke.

"How'd you get in here anyway?" his voice was mildly strained.

Harry straightened up and stretched slightly, taking a deep breath. "Found it this summer. I like knowing where all the hidden rooms are."

Malfoy looked as though he wanted to scoff or roll his eyes, but at the same time seemed confused. "What," he asked, "you just go around poking all the cracks in the castle and seeing if anything happens?"

The Gryffindor knew how completely unrealistic it was to imagine that anyone without the Marauder's Map could find the room, but wasn't about to admit to Draco that he had it. "No… not exactly…" he replied lamely. "How'd you find it?"

The Slytherin slumped back with an annoyed air as he seemed to accept that he wouldn't be getting an answer. "I built it," he grumbled under his breath, barely loudly enough for Harry to hear.

Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise, "Built it?"

Not holding back from rolling his eyes this time, the blond replied impatiently. "Yes, Potter. I built it. With magic. Myself. This summer."

"That's really cool," Harry replied honestly.

The faintest look of shock passed over Draco's face before he quickly looked away, hiding most of his face from view in the shadow near the wall. Neither seemed to know what to say for a while, then eventually the Slytherin stood up and walked over to the door. As he stood gripping the worn metal doorknob, he faced the table at which Harry was sitting. Not quite making eye contact, he spoke quickly before he left the room.

"You can still come here, if you need to. But not a word to anyone else about it." Draco looked up at Harry as he opened the door, "Nobody."

With that, the blond stepped out of the door and pulled it shut behind him, leaving Harry alone in the dark room. As the light from the door had shone through, though, Harry could have sworn he saw blood on Draco's right hand.

x

Harry woke the next morning, on Friday, feeling better than he had felt in ages. It seemed that, despite having been completely overwhelmed by his thoughts the previous afternoon, the tense feeling that typically gripped him was absent. Hermione had started to suspect that his uneasiness got worse the longer he went without feeling some more extreme form of emotion. He had mentioned how he had been feeling since the War to his friends a few weeks prior, and when Hermione insisted on helping him figure out how to manage it he had started being honest with her about how bad it was on any given day.

As she had correctly observed, the days in which Harry had become almost breathless with laughter with Hermione and Ron had always been ones in which he found himself relaxed. Interestingly enough, she also pointed out that when he had fought with Malfoy or spent the evening crying, he soon after would report that he felt rather normal again. Sometimes, he could even suppress the anxiety by flying around the Quidditch pitch at breakneck speed.

If he was honest with himself, he really did find most days to be terribly mundane. Harry did constantly remind himself to appreciate the security, but overall felt as though a piece of him had gone missing. He only wished he could find a reliable way to feel content, and held out hope that next year life as an Auror would keep him busy with enough excitement; imagining teaming up with Ron and hunting down dangerous dark wizards and witches always put a smile back on his face.

Harry had debated telling Ron and Hermione about the strange run-in he had had with Malfoy the day before, when he found the Slytherin had been crying and suspected there had been blood on his hands. He decided against it, however, when he realized the pair would never stop pressing him for specifics; they would definitely force him to admit he had found a new hidden room. As much as he loved his friends, it was nice to know there was one place in the entire castle that they couldn't come looking for him if he really wanted time to himself. Of course, he would also feel guilty further ruining the privacy of someone's secret space. Even if that someone was Draco Malfoy.

At breakfast, Harry made a point of not looking over to the Slytherin table and sat with his back towards it. He might be feeling better, but it still felt awkward to have to acknowledge what had happened so soon after. He was pleasantly surprised when Neville, Dean, and Seamus came up to him at the table to take his mind off things.

"Hey Harry," the three greeted him. Harry nodded as he chewed and raised his hand in greeting. "Ron, Hermione," they added before sitting down.

"So," Seamus cut to the chase, "we were hoping you would duel with us in the afternoon."

"All of you," Dean clarified, looking towards Hermione and Ron as well. Harry was a little surprised, and he noticed Ron grin and Hermione straighten up importantly.

"Right on!" Ron agreed enthusiastically. "About time we had some fun practicing. Gets boring alone…" he trailed off.

"I'll be there too," Hermione added quickly.

"Sounds good," Harry replied. "Where, though?"

Seamus grinned mischievously. "Outside," he said, almost as though it were a challenge.

All six heads turned upwards to face the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, were dark clouds hung above them and heavy rain falling in sheets from the sky. Hermione frowned.

"Isn't it supposed to be like this all day?"

"Yes," Neville said with a hesitant eagerness. "But, we thought, maybe that would be part of the fun?"

"Yeah!" Dean confirmed energetically. "We want to really give it a go. Like war-level effort, but without the danger."

"Maybe some danger," Seamus corrected his friend. "I'd be disappointed if I didn't need at least a quick visit to the Hospital Wing after."

Harry was astounded by how forward and intense his fellow Gryffindors seemed to be about wanting a real fight. They all had a brightness in their eyes that suggested they were just as restless as Harry and thought this would be a chance to finally shake off the dust. As he thought about it, a similar excitement grew in Harry's chest and he found himself grinning as well. Looking over at Ron and Hermione, he was surprised to find them reacting the same way.

"Right," Harry made an executive decision. "This afternoon at four then? We can give it a go after Charms and before dinner."

Neville, Dean, and Seamus cheered and looked at each other excitedly. Then, together, the six of them finished their breakfast before heading off to classes.

Harry wasn't sure what happened in Transfiguration or Charms that day, as he was far too excited for his evening plans to focus on his coursework. Soon enough, though, four o'clock came around while the rain was still pouring down.

x

"You do realize," Hermione yelled at the five other Gryffindor seventh-years over the noise of the rain and the wind as they walked across the grounds, "how much trouble we could get in for this? Dueling is never allowed without supervision!"

"Did you agree to this or not?" Ron yelled back at her.

"I didn't say I wouldn't do it!" Hermione countered with a smug look on her face. "I just want you to all be aware of the rules we are going to be breaking."

Smiling back at her, the small group made their way over to the same empty corner of the grounds they would occasionally use for Defense classes. Used to taking the lead at D.A. meetings, Harry spoke up.

"Right. We need to raise some shields around us so none of our spells leave the area. Once we do that, let's start three-on-three. Me, Ron, and Dean will head over to that side." Harry announced, pointing away from the castle. "Hermione, Neville, and Seamus, you three go that side." Harry gestured back towards the castle. "Only use spells safe enough for Defense. No other rules."

Already soaking wet, they spread out and started raising shield charms all around them, enclosing a large portion of the grassy area in which to safely cast their spells. The two teams then spread apart to either side of the arena they had created. As soon as they were facing each other, without warning, Seamus shot a stunning spell at Harry. Just like that, they all moved to action.

Harry was thrilled. Though he was soaked to the bone and being lashed at by rain and wind, he had never felt better. It was the first time he had ever worked so much as part of a team. Yes, he had fought around friends plenty of times, but it had never felt so much like teamwork. He, Ron, and Dean stayed close together, all shouting strategies to each other and delegating attacks. This wasn't the panicked point-and-shoot mess he had always been used to. This was smart, coordinated, powerful. He felt that they were truly allies and equals.

Hermione had wasted no time implementing a similar communication on her side, and the two groups had soon found themselves evenly matched. Harry guessed they must each have been hit around a dozen times so far. Thankfully, his teammates were quick to revive each other when they had been stunned, and quick to check in when they were otherwise hurt. Time flew, cloaks had been abandoned mid-fight and cuts started appearing on everyone, yet nothing – aside from the occasional grimace of pain- wiped the smiles off of their faces. Nothing in the world seemed to exist outside their shields.

That was, until a sharp voice carried itself strongly over the wind and rain.

"Enough!" it commanded.

The six Gryffindors looked in shock at each other before turning to the side. Somehow, they had been so caught up in their mock-battle that they hadn't noticed what looked like the entirety of the student body standing far off to the side, gaping at them. Pushing her way to the front of the group came Professor McGonagall. She gave them all a serious look, and perhaps by magic her voice cut clearly through the noise of the weather.

"What," she began disapprovingly, "do you think you're doing?"

Harry walked towards her, closing the gap slightly to be sure he would be heard.

"We were just… practicing, Professor," he tried for honesty.

Her expression softened, and it looked to Harry as though she gave him a wink. The remining five all came over to stand in front of McGonagall, too. They each had at least one cut that was notably bleeding or some obviously massive tear in their clothes. Harry knew without looking that he was bleeding through his shirt from his right shoulder.

"Well," Professor McGonagall continued, turning so she was half speaking to the student body and half addressing Harry and his friends. "You should all know that dueling outside of the classroom and without supervision is not permitted."

Now she turned to the rest of the students. "Should any of you get any ideas from this, I wouldn't blame you. It's not our intention to stop you from learning… As such, I think a suitable punishment for our six warriors here will be to oversee dueling practices for the rest of you. I think two hours a weekend each would suffice. This seems like a suitable location."

Harry almost grinned at the excited expressions and murmurs that ripped through the crowd of younger students.

"I'll post a schedule outside the Great Hall before dinner," she informed them. When Harry opened his mouth to speak, she cut him off. "No, Mr. Potter, it won't interfere with Quidditch."

Harry looked at his friends, who all tried to keep a straight face to respect the fact that this wasn't supposed to look like a reward, despite obviously being a privilege. They nodded to professor McGonagall and turned back to the castle. Before they could get anywhere, though, she stopped them.

"Oh, no, please," she insisted, again loudly enough for everyone to hear. "I do believe these students were quite excited to see what you could do." McGonagall feigned indifference, and Harry at first thought this was supposed to be some form of punishment; they had now been put on the spot after being exhausted and mildly injured. Part of him, however, suspected she wanted to watch as well. "Perhaps they will learn something," she added finally, throwing her own shields up and over herself and the students, choosing also to block them from the rain.

The younger students rushed forward and got as close as they could, clearly eager to watch. Some of them whispered to themselves and pointed to each of the seventh-years in turn. Harry faced his friends and nodded, and the teams of three split back apart. As if they had never stopped, they began their fight again as passionately as they had the first time.

A half hour later, the group decided they were all injured enough to call it quits for the day. Breathing heavily, they came to meet in the middle and exchange enthusiastic hugs.

"Brilliant!"

"Nice one, mate."

"You were incredible!"

"You really got me! Look at this hole in my sleeve…"

Grins and compliments and high-fives were exchanged all around, and Harry was hard pressed to think of a time he had felt more at home. Glancing over at Professor McGonagall, who nodded at them slightly, the group picked up their discarded robes, rolled up bloodstained sleeves, and went to check in with Madam Pomfrey. As proud as they were, they barely even noticed the looks of shock and awe on the faces of the younger students before they headed back up to the castle.

I could get used to this, Harry thought.

AN: Guys! I hope you're having as much fun as I am here. I will say, I feel like J.K. Rowling took care of all the serious plot, so this is for myself and all the other fans who just want to see character interaction. It really will just be day-to-day stuff, and no dark villain is going to jump out of the shadows and endanger people's lives. For now, at least. Just keep it in mind- I don't want anyone to be disappointed! I'm just writing about shenanigans.

Love y'all, and thanks for the reviews!