Blind Touch

by MissMoondawn

As a result of a very dangerous mistake in Potions, Harry is left reeling and lost, and the only person who can help him is Draco Malfoy. Draco accepts this responsibility, for his own slew of personal reasons. He thinks it will be simple enough. He fails to keep one huge, crucial detail in mind however: When have things ever been simple with Harry Potter?

Everything went black.

Completely and utterly pitch fucking black.

Harry was resolutely torn between screaming in pure terror and crying in complete despair. After the cauldron had exploded, everything just went black. He was wide awake, aware and there however. He could hear the complete mayhem around him. Hermione muttering something incoherently, Ron's quivering apologies, the ragged breathing of his classmates and Snape's quiet drawl. The noise coming seemingly out of pure darkness did nothing to ease his panic. He moved, his arms outstretched around him as he spun, attempting to get his bearings in the classrooms, but his eyes only saw black. He'd been in too much shock to do anything but sputter for the good part of the minute, but now, now he was really realizing what had befell him. He couldn't fucking see. Oh God he couldn't see-A scream left his lips as he drew in on himself, walking backwards until his back slammed into a wall. Right. A wall. That was fine. It was real. Solid. Exactly what he needed right now. His breaths came in ragged pants, as he heard an ever bigger commotion riling up.

"I can't see." He croaked. "Everything's black. I can't see!" He yelled this time, loudly, desperately.

" -" Snape began in his withering tone, but then faltered. "Harry, please, calm down." He finished the sentence. The uncharacteristic sympathy in his voice only served to send Harry into a deeper frenzy. However, strange as the odd kindness might have been, Harry had to admit that Snape's voice was soothing. He nodded meakly, and took a few deep breaths, his hands still trembling tucked under his armpits, as if he was trying to shield himself from the darkness filling the entirety of his vision. Jesus Christ he couldn't see. Just as another wave of panic was about to consume him, he heard the soft, unmistakable sound of a billowing cape. Snape had taken a few steps closer. Harry forced himself to focus on the gentle whispering of fabric, and nothing else.

"You're under affect of the Draught Of Numbness. It has impaired your sight first. It seems that has effectively disrupted the potion we were brewing by adding Moonstone powder instead of Mandrake root. How completely, yet unsurprisingly, incompetent."

Masked by the insult, was the concern. His teacher was worried. Harry strained his ears to absolutely everything now that all he could saw was darkness. It writhed and Harry felt an unwitting tear slip down his cheek.

"The Draught of Numbness will effectively numb and impair each of your senses. Sight, hearing, touch, speech. In that order. After the four have cycled out, the order repeats, until an antidote is taken. One way to alleviate the effects is the touch of one with powerful enough feelings of either love, or hatred. Such powerful emotions spark powerful magic which can render the Draught null, however only as long as there is contact." Snape explained, Harry sucking in a deep breath when he felt the other man's hand on his shoulder.

"I am sorry . I understand you must be afraid, and unfortunately, I can not create the antidote for another 3 weeks. I hope you will find assistance amongst your peers in this time. Losing your sight so suddenly must be horrifying and will not be treated as a joke."

Harry couldn't believe the care Snape took with this particular scenario. All of the resentment always present within the man in Harry's presence seems to have bled away in place of a teacher having to aid a student. Harry heard Snape's cloak sigh as the man's hand dropped from his shoulder, and he seemed to turn around to some other direction.

"As for you, . You are responsible for 's predicament, and you will be dealt with accordingly once I have spoken with the Headmaster. The Draught of Numbness is a particularly dangerous potion, as if the antidote isn't received as soon as possible, over time, the victim's actual senses will abandon them completely."

Harry heard Hermione's trembling voice just from ways away:

"Professor..Harry's eyes...they've gone completely black. The whites of his pupils, his irises, everything..it's just..black. Is this another of the potion's side effects?"

"Yes, , it is. In 2 days' time, your sight will return, however your hearing will be lost . Is there someone you believe feels an emotion powerful enough to assist you in this time?"

"I..I don't know... Is there a way we can test?" Harry asked, though it was barely audible. He was still pressed into the wall, his arms around himself, but he was much calmer now. He was still disturbed how his eyes opened into darkness after each blink, instead of the usual sights which always greeted him. A shiver went down his spine. If what Snape said was true, someone with strong enough feelings touching him having the power to return his sight, if for a second, he'd be willing to conduct whatever test necessary to find them. It had barely been 15 minutes, but he was already reeling away from the endless black.

"Yes, there is." Snape spoke, and Harry heard him coming closer. He pried the raven boy off of the wall and guided him to sit down in a chair. The Gryffindor sighed in relief. Then, he continued speaking: "Everyone, form a line in front of . Each of you will achieve physical contact with him, and we shall see who is best suited to assist him through this."

And so, each student present came up in front of Harry and knelt down in front of his chair and touched him. Some touched his hands, some his face, some his shoulders, but every time, Harry just sadly shook his head 'no'. He held his breath as the next person's clothes ruffled to crouch in front of him. He heard the soft give of air as a hand reached out, gentle fingers brushing his cheek. Harry blinked, and squinted. In front of him knelt Malfoy, staring at him with an incredulous look. His blonde hair seemed just a bit brighter, his gray eyes just a tad darker. It took Harry a moment to realize he could actually see him. Just as the blonde git was about to draw his hand away, Harry grabbed a firm hold of his wrist, keeping his hand in place.

"I see you." He whispered, but in the dead, tense silence, it might as well have been as loud as a Sonorus. Harry watched Malfoy's sharp intake of breath, a faint flicker of emotion across his features, before he schooled his features again. He gave a curt nod, and looked up at Snape, who looked surprised at best, and almost dead at worst. When he spoke, his voice was strained:

"Very well then. It seems is the one for this task. I suggest the best way of maintaining contact is holding hands, however you may work out whichever arrangement works best for you two. I want you to stay after class, so we may discuss this in more detail. Class dismissed, the rest of you."

The students slowly started flittering out, still giving uneasy glances at Harry, and Malfoy, who was still kneeling in front of Harry, hand on his cheek. Hermione and Ron lingered, and Harry glanced at them and nodded. His friends left, leaving only Snape, Malfoy and himself in the classroom. Harry stared around the classroom, as if seeing it for the very first time, and then at the charred mess that was his and Ron's cauldron before Ron fucked up and everything went to shit.

"Now, if you would both sit properly." Snape cleared his throat, and lowered himself behind his desk. Malfoy took a hold of Harry's hand and stood, pulling a chair next to him and sitting down. His face was completely blank of any readable emotion.

"This isn't the most ideal situation for the two of you, however I must ask both of you to take this seriously. Draco, do you agree to assist for the preceeding three weeks?"

Malfoy only nodded, and swallowed.

"It is settled then. You may work out all of the future arrangements between yourselves. , I must ask of you to do your best to remain calm and collected through the loss of your senses. I will work as fast as possible, but three weeks is the shortest time frame within which I am able to brew the antidote and provide you with it."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir." Harry nodded, shivering again. He knew the hand in Malfoy's was still trembling. Such a rapid wave of disorientation had crashed upon him in such a short time, he couldn't help but still bristle.

"You are excused from the rest of your classes for all of today, and tomorrow. I believe lunch should be starting just about now. You're dismissed." Snape said, the tense of his shoulders giving way as the two numbly stood up and walked out, hand in hand. Harry took another deep breath as they made their way towards the Great Hall:

"Thank you Malfoy."

The other clearly hadn't expected him to speak, seemingly occupied by his own thoughts. He replied with a confused 'huh'. Harry repeated:

"I said thank you, for helping me."

"Oh. Right. Yeah..you're welcome?" Malfoy answered, though it came out as more a question. He ran his other hand through his hair, ruffling it up. They didn't speak anymore until they reached the Great Hall. Upon entering, everyone turned to stare at them, the news quickly spreading about what had happened. Malfoy scowled at the entirety of the hall, and instinctively started for the Slytherin table, Harry following without complaint. Suddenly though, he stopped and turned to look at Harry, an unspoken question in his eyes. Harry merely nodded, and they took their seats at the Slytherin table, Harry as close to the edge as possible. He was silent, and hoped the rest of the Slytherins would afford him the same courtesy, but alas, they did not.

"Why, look who joined our midst?" Parkinson sneered, her eyes cold and brutal as they bore into Harry. "Gryffindor's Golden Boy." She cackled, a few others mimicking her. "A sheep amongst vipers. We heard only Draco here can keep your eyes open, so to speak. Is it true Potter? That you now completely rely on one of us for the very basic of functions?" She continued, no mercy in her mocking tone. Harry, however, was not to be intimidated. He stared right back into her eyes, and sneered himself:

"God, Parkinson, you're lucky it isn't you in my shoes. With your rather below average existence, I can't imagine anyone would want to poke you with a 10 foot pole, let alone actually touch you."

She paled, and a sickly sweet smirk wound up onto Harry's face, a challenge in his eyes. Yes, he was way out of his league here, he couldn't take on the entirety of Slytherin house if he tried, but he'd be damned if he went down without a fight.

"So Potty has bite huh?" Parkinson mocked, masking her flicker of surprise well. "I must say, I'm rather impressed there seems to exist more than two brain cells in that big, bulbous head of yours, rubbing together for warmth. Good for you, Scarhead."

Harry rolled his eyes, and looked down at his fingernails, playing the part of someone thoroughly bored with this conversation convincingly:

"Of course you'd be impressed by such an obvious fact, seeing as you don't even posses a singular brain cell yourself. I can't imagine it would take much to sweep you off your feet Parkinson."

He gave her a final wolfish smirk and proceeded to pay absolutely no attention to her or anyone else for the remainder of lunch. He'd heard her scoff, and mutter something akin to 'who does he think he is?' and 'he'll pay for this' but he couldn't be certain, nor did he care. He chose instead, to look at all of the Slytherins and their little corner of the Great Hall. He'd never gotten much of a look in this part before. As his eyes traveled over everyone, he suddenly realized that Malfoy wasn't eating, only staring at him as if he'd grown three heads. He'd completely forgotten he was holding his hand.

"Do you need both hands to eat?" Harry asked, ready to drop his hand and face the black again. Malfoy nodded slowly, as if he had something else on his mind entirely, and Harry gently pulled his hand back, blinking and standing face to face with darkness again. It made him squirm in his seat. He wished he was still holding Malfoy's hand, just so he could see. He hated being in the dark, it always suffocated him. His moment of weakness had not gone unnoticed by a number of Slytherins unfortunately, the scathing remarks pouring over him in the very next second:

"Awee, does Potty need Draco to hold his hand?"

"Poor Potter, left blinking in the dark, helpless and alone. Where's your mother to save you now huh, Golden Boy?"

"Don't you go falling in love with our Draco here, Potter, unless you like getting hurt. With how much you seem to do it, one could claim you might be masochistic."

Harry felt rage throb inside him, but he dutifully clamped his mouth shut, not allowing a single whimper free. He straightened out his back, clenched his fist, and blindly gave the direction of the table a long "look". His completely black eyes must have had the desired effect, at least partly, as a few gasps resounded, and the rest of them promptly shut up.

He felt so relieved when Malfoy took hold of his hand again, Harry's sight returning to him in a breath. It seemed that while he could see, the black would melt out of his eyes, leaving them behind as normal. Green. The Slytherin still had that look of thinly veiled surprise on his face, though it was harder to distinguish than before. He had barely spoken a few words since everything has happened, which genuinely unnerved Harry. He'd have expected a myriad of witty retorts and sarcastic insults out of the blonde Slytherin by now, but that didn't happen.

"Must suck to be stuck with him for 3 weeks huh Draco?" Zabini shook his head, emphasizing the word 'him' with special disgust and malice.

"You can't imagine." Malfoy replied, his grip on Harry's hand under the table barely tightening. His voice was steady, his face pleasant, but he was tense. Too tense. Harry said nothing, only listened to the exchange as he nibbled a piece of toast he'd grabbed with his free hand.

"What will you do for sleeping? Sleep together?" Zabini snickered at the mere idea. Harry snorted:

"Of course not Zabini. I thought you were smarter than that."

"But don't you need-" Zabini began, but Harry promptly cut him off:

"No Zabini, I don't need to see while I'm asleep. That's actually the whole point of sleeping. Surely you aren't so thick to have it elude you."

Zabini glared at him, and growled low in his throat, seemingly a warning. A warning Harry had cleanly disregarded. If he wanted to pick a fight, Harry would gladly take him up on the offer. He may be sitting amongst them, but he wasn't helpless in the least, and he'd have them respect that, if not anything else.

"Enough. I do not want to be reminded of my poor luck every waking moment of my day." Malfoy said, an edge in his voice that had the other Slytherins shutting their traps. Harry only managed a smidge of a smirk, before lunch was over and Malfoy was dragging him out of the Great Hall. Harry struggled to keep up with the rapid pace Malfoy had set, and was just about to ask him to slow down, when Malfoy pushed him into a bathroom. His grip on Harry's hand was deadly tight, and Harry just stared him down as he seemed to compose himself for whatever it was he wanted to say. Then he cleared his throat and looked Harry in the eyes:

"That performance exceeded my highest expectations Potter, though they weren't very high to begin with."

"Well I wasn't just going to sit there and take it was I?" Harry replied, shrugging.

"Yes Potter I know that. I did not expect you to hold up your own against both Blaise and Pansy though."

"Just because I'm a Gryffindor-" Harry started, but Malfoy cut him off:

"No, not because you're a Gryffindor. Well, partly because of it. More so because you're well..you and you run the whole being mindful and helpful shabang."

"In the entirety of my existence I have not once been either mindful or helpful, so I have absolutely no clue where you got that idea." Harry blinked dumbly at him, his words true to their core. "What I do is cause a disaster, then have Hermione figure out how to clean it up, and then I stumble through doing what she told me."

Malfoy chuckled. Not a cackle, not a sneer. An actual, genuine chuckle. Harry didn't know he ever had it in him:

"Either way Potter. My point is, keep it up. You'll need such an attitude."

At dinner, no Slytherin made jabs at Harry, surprisingly enough. Perhaps they were waiting to see what kind of reaction Harry was having to everything. He, however, had learned his lesson from lunch, and promptly gave them none. Not a flinch, or a sigh. His back was straight, his shoulders relaxed as he ate something simple with one hand. He kept his face pleasant, but cold. He knew Malfoy would have to drop his hand any moment now, and he braced himself. When the dark came, it wasn't as startling as before. Perhaps because he'd been expecting it this time. He sat, the black blinding him making it difficult to eat properly, without missing his mouth, but he managed it just good enough to not draw unwanted attention. After dinner, Malfoy had grabbed his hand again, and Harry had to squint at the sudden sights and the light hitting his eyes. After staring at nothing but black, even the dimmest of light can glow like the fucking Sun. They'd stood up and Malfoy walked him to his friends at the Gryffindor table, where Hermione was waiting to embrace him and Ron was biting his lip behind her, looking like hell. She hugged Harry, who still held Malfoy's hand.

"You'll be fine with your friends, right Potter?" Malfoy asked and Harry nodded, and gave him the slightest of smiles. Malfoy dropped his hand, and Harry's eyes covered over with the black again. "Merlin, that's creepy." Malfoy muttered before walking away. Hermione had pulled back from the hug, and Harry heard her deeply concerned voice:

"Let's get you back to the common room."

Harry nodded, and felt her slender hands on his shoulders and back, guiding him through Hogwarts until he felt the familiar warmth of his common room. She seated him in an armchair and seemed to settle on the couch.

"How are you Harry?" She asked, sounding much like a mother.

"I guess I'm fine..I hate that I can't see." Harry replied, focusing on the comforting heat of the flames of the fireplace somewhere in front of him. Stay focused. Breathe. He told himself. Don't freak out now, you'll be fine.

"I can't imagine.." Her voice trailed off. "Has Malfoy been behaving?" She asked instead. Harry chuckled:

"He isn't a dog 'Mione, but yes, he has been."

"That's good at least. Were the Slytherins giving you a lot of trouble? I would imagine they would, those vultures." She continued questioning and Harry only nodded, uncertain in the dark which direction he was nodding in.

"Of course. Can you believe it's Malfoy of all people? He was last in line you know. If it hadn't been him, then there would have been no one."

Harry shivered at the mere thought of having to do everything in the dark. This was difficult enough as it is.

"Malfoy hates Harry enough, makes sense it would work." Ron mumbled the first ever words since the shaky apologies muttered in the classroom. Hermione frowned:

"That just means we don't love him enough." She sounded disappointed in herself and Ron. Harry bit his lip:

"Guys, guys, don't worry. I'll be fine."

"Mate I'm so sorry. I had not idea-God, I'm so bloody sorry-" Ron burst into apologizing again, but Harry held up a hand to shush him.

"It's fine Ron. I forgive you." Still, his voice sounded cold even to himself. As much as Harry knew it wasn't Ron's fault, that he had no way of knowing what would happen, Harry couldn't help the bitterness smearing across his insides.

Suddenly, Seamus came in, his Irish accent betraying him:

"Ron, Dumbledore is calling you to his office. Right now."

Harry heard Ron stand and shuffle out, felt his fear at what consequence he would face for maiming Harry like he did.

The redhead felt his breath hitch as he entered Dumbledore's office. He saw the Headmaster and Snape in there waiting for him. Snape was regarding him with his usual sneer, but Dumbledore had that complacent smile he always had on his face.

" . Sit." The old man spoke softly.

Ron swallowed and bonelessly slumped into the chair. It was a goddamn accident! Surely, they would understand?

"I understand what has happened was a complete accident .." Dumbledore spoke and Ron felt relief flood him, but sadly it was short-lived. "..however, that does not change the fact you have seriously afflicted ."

Ron tensed up again. Snape then spoke:

"Me and the headmaster have discussed at length what would be the appropriate repercussion. We have come to the agreement that you will be facing detention for 5 weeks, as well lose 60 points to your house. Believe me, , this is quite the mild punishment in comparison what I had originally suggested."

Ron swallowed. Was he lucky that Dumbledore was so forgiving, bloody hell. Snape would have skinned him if given the chance. He nodded, and numbly muttered a small 'thank you' before standing and exiting the office, still shaking like a leaf.

Harry had went to sleep, helped by Dean and Seamus not long after Ron left. He only wished to get to sleep, and maybe wake up, realize it was all a bad dream. Oh how he wished...however, as he opened his eyes the next morning, and faced darkness again, his heart plummeted. For a second he wanted to hope it was still nighttime, and the dorm was just really dark, but he knew that was foolish. He slowly sat up in bed, using his arms to feel his surroundings, so as to not bump into anything.

"Good morning, mate." Ron's voice startled him for a second.

"Morning. How'd it go last night?" Harry asked, rubbing his eyes, willing the black to go away. One more day of this, and then he would lose his hearing. How fun.

"Better than I expected. Lost some house points, got detention. God I can't believe I did this to you." Ron mused, and Harry could picture the pinched expression on his friend's face.

"It's fine Ron." Harry assured, too tired to deal with this shit. He stood up and heard Ron do the same:

"Need any help?"

"Just get me to the bathroom." Harry asked, taking a tentative step forward, reaching out. Ron clasped his shoulder and lead him into the bathroom. It was a whole new struggle to finish his mourning routine without his sight, but he managed.

After making his way down into the common room, nearly falling flat on his arse on the stairs, too stubborn to accept the help. He hated feeling as if he were crippled, and hated even more that he was a burden on his friends. No, Harry was determined to do as much as he could on his own. He realized him and Malfoy were excused from classes, but Harry didn't know if this was good or bad.

Then, he heard voices coming from the general direction Harry remembered the portrait hole to be in.

"Yeah, he's over here. He's been miserable, what do you expect?"

"I know! It's not ideal for him either."

It was Hermione's voice conversing with someone else. Suddenly, Harry recognized who she was talking to, though he couldn't make out his words.

Oh! Malfoy was here! Harry felt the couch dip and then someone grabbing his hand. Harry blinked, and his sight returned. He looked right at Malfoy, who was very tense and staring everywhere but at him, perched on the very edge of the couch.

"Hi Malfoy." Harry greeted, albeit somewhat awkwardly.

"Potter." The blonde acknowledged him with a nod. Harry bit his lip, wondering what to say. Malfoy was helping him after all, and Harry really didn't feel entitled to call the shots or drag Malfoy along anywhere.

"If you want, you can go back to Slytherin. I'll be fine for a day.."

"Shut up Potter." Malfoy sneered and Harry promptly did just that. Instead, he looked around and saw the wary looks everyone was giving the Slytherin. Harry rolled his eyes at them, and gave them pointed looks. He was on the verge of saying something, when they seemed to take his hint and go about their business, as if Malfoy wasn't there. Ron came down to the common room then, and stiffened when he saw Malfoy sitting on the couch. A frown etched into his face as he stared. Harry was starting to get really irked by Ron's behavior. The ginger had no right to be giving him weird stares, as everything was his fault in the first place. Ron kept staring, and sneering and Harry was honestly fed up:

"He's not a freak on display. What are you staring at?" He barked at Ron, perhaps louder and harsher than necessary, but it got the point across. Ron just withered away and turned around, walking out to breakfast. Harry sighed and scowled at the fire. Sometimes the prejudice of his house-mates really got to him. Only a few could see how similar Gryffindor and Slytherin actually were, no matter how vehemently both houses claimed otherwise. Harry had noticed it though, and really, it would be hypocritical to nag at the snakes, when the lions weren't all that different. Slowly, everyone had slowly left to head to the Great Hall, leaving them alone in the common room.

"Potter, you're squeezing the circulation out of my hand." Malfoy's drawl snapped Harry out of his stupor. Harry only then realized how tightly he was gripping the blonde's hand.

"Sorry." He muttered and relaxed once again.

"You know you don't have to go causing trouble in paradise just because the Weasel was giving me a few dirty looks. I certainly didn't do it." Malfoy spoke again, staring at Harry's profile. Harry shrugged:

"You've got a reputation to uphold. I don't."

Silence enveloped them again. Harry was growing restless, just staring idly into the fire, he wanted to do something or talk or whatever the hell, anything to stop sitting idly by not saying anything. He didn't know what Malfoy thought, but seeing how he kept shifting on the couch next to Harry, Harry wagered an educated guess that he felt much the same. Malfoy had been uncharacteristically mellow with Harry since yesterday, which was good, though slightly unnerving.

"Aren't you hungry?" Harry finally asked, choosing the safest option for conversation between the two of them.

"No Potter. You?" Malfoy replied, still staring into the fire. Harry just shook his head. Suddenly, Malfoy sneered:

"Tasteless decorating." He commented, his eyes wandering around the common room.

"I know right? Everything is either red or golden." Harry agreed, though he'd never say it in front of his friends, they'd make him out to be a traitor. "At least Slytherin's common room has some variation-" Harry's voice died as he realized what he'd just said. Malfoy turned to stare at him, suspicious:

"Potter, how would you know?"

Harry chuckled awkwardly and rubbed his neck with his free hand:

"I..uhm...might've snuck in...in second year..with Polyjuice.."

"Oh my God Potter-" Malfoy snorted and laughed. "Why in the hell would you do that?"

Harry laughed:

"I thought you were the Heir of Slytherin and I wanted to make sure."

"Did you now? Whatever made you think that?" Malfoy shook his head, a smile on his face nevertheless.

"Your entire existence actually." Harry shrugged. "Don't they call you the Slytherin Prince?"

"No one has ever called me that Potter." Malfoy looked confused.

"Really? Us Gryffindors sure do." Harry replied, surprised not more people found Malfoy suitable to such a title.

"I'll have to let the rest of Slytherin know of my new calling." Malfoy ran a hand through his hair, chuckling under his breath.

Harry couldn't quite comprehend this situation. Draco Malfoy was in his common room, their entwined hands between them on the couch, and they were talking as if they were friends. Draco fucking Malfoy. Harry bit his lip and thought what it would have been like if he were sorted into Slytherin, like the Hat had wanted.

"Earth to Potter?" Malfoy waved a hand in front of his face and Harry snapped out of it. "Sickle for your thoughts?"

Harry snorted: "I was just wondering how much different everything would have been if I was sorted in the house the Hat had wanted to put me in."

"Which is?"

"Slytherin." Harry arched an eyebrow, to observe Malfoy's reaction.

"You? In Slytherin?" The blonde sputtered. "No."

"Yeah. You were being a little prat though so I begged the Hat not to do it."

"Thank God for that too, Slytherin would have burned down to the ground if you were sorted." Malfoy faked sighing in relief.

"Hey!" Harry whined. He bumped Malfoy's shoulder with his own. "You're a right ponce."

"Only to you Potter, my love." Malfoy quipped.

Harry shook his head, his wild hair flying around his head as he did so.

"Merlin Potter have you ever seen a comb? This is unacceptable!" The blonde huffed, and pulled out his wand, summoning a comb into his free hand.

"Malfoy what are you-" Harry's words were cut short when Malfoy initially climbed into his lap, his cold gaze narrowed in on Harry's head of hair. The blonde was straddling Harry as he started to run the comb through Harry's hair, completely focused, paying little attention to Harry's pitiful protests. As the comb pushed in through Harry's hair, he shut his mouth, and only watched Malfoy's face pinched in concentration as he pulled the comb forth, untangling Harry's hair. Or at least trying to. Don't get Harry wrong, he'd tried to untangle his hair before, he really did, but he never had near enough patience to brave through the process. Using their holding hands as leverage, Malfoy did not quit his pursuit of taming Harry's hair. The comb going through his hair, the slight pull on his scalp weren't entirely unpleasant, Harry noted sourly as he stubbornly refused to stare at Malfoy's chest, or hips or neck or face or anything. He just stared down at his own robes, not uttering a single word. The poor comb was really given a run for its money by the raven locks, catching hard on a few knots, that Malfoy had pulled and tugged on until he'd gotten it through. Still straddling him minutes later, Malfoy leaned back and sat in Harry's lap as he stared at the now somewhat tidier mop of locks.

"That was completely unnecessary." Harry cleared his throat, fighting the flush threatening to color his cheeks. He never thought he'd enjoy having his hair played with. Much less enjoy allowing Malfoy to do so. Much less allowing Malfoy to get within half a foot in proximity. However, Harry had learned his life was always full of surprises.

"That might've been the most necessary intervention in the history of the Wizarding World Potter." Malfoy corrected, and stared at Harry's hair for a moment longer, before he seemed to realize what he was sitting on, and clambering off. A pang of satisfaction filled Harry at witnessing Malfoy lose his elegant composure, if for a moment.

"Aren't you going to go down to eat at some point?" Harry changed the topic swiftly, more than happy to never mention this again though.

"Potter we can just call the elves." Malfoy pointed out and Harry bit his lip, nodding:

"Right. But why? Aren't the Slytherins going to talk?"

"They won't. Not a word." Malfoy's lips quirked upwards for a moment, and Harry shrugged. He knew his friends better than Harry, so he'd take his word for it.

"So, how can I lay waste to this hideous place?" Malfoy changed the subject, sneering at the space he was in.

"Step 1: Eat Ron's secret stash of chocolate frogs. Step 2: enjoy." Harry replied nearly instantly, a glint in his green eyes. Maybe he wasn't kidding about being sorted into Slytherin.

"Lead the way." The blonde spoke in a sing-song, cruel voice.

Harry stood up, dragging Malfoy behind him, and went to a small crevice under the stairs. His fingers fumbled for a moment before they found perch and pulled. A tiny compartment opened up to a slew of chocolate frogs.

"A testament to how much I hate the Weasel is that I am willing to rot my teeth out for the one and only, sole reason of spiting him." Malfoy snorted, popping a chocolate frog into his mouth.

"A testament to how angry I am at him for doing this to me is that I am willing to share chocolate with you for the one and only, sole reason of spiting him." Harry replied, equally as amused, as he grabbed one himself.

They made back to the couch and placed the box between them, slowly munching at each of the frogs.

"So Potter, why do you think it's me who can help you?" Malfoy asked, his voice sounding every bit casual, but his shoulders were strained.

"Because of your undying loathing for me? That's a strong enough feeling. Snape said it just had to be a strong emotion, good or bad." Harry answered, half-shrugging. Truth be told, Malfoy had been nothing short of cordial, but Harry didn't know any different answer to give.

"Right. Of course. Yeah." Malfoy sputtered three different affirmations, stuffing a frog into his mouth. For the first time, his careful guard seemed to have slipped. He seemed ever so slightly paler.

"Am I wrong?" Harry asked, glancing up at the blonde through his eyelashes, catching onto the sputter.

"No, of course not." Malfoy replied, perhaps too quickly, albeit very convincingly. "Tomorrow, you'll also be blinded right?"

Harry nodded, and finished the last frog.

"After that it's hearing, touch and then speech." He prattled off.

"You have no idea how creepy your eyes become when I drop your hand." Malfoy suddenly said.

"I assume someone walking around with the void in place of eyes would be just slightly unnerving." Harry grinned.

Malfoy just rolled his eyes at the remark.

It was then that the portrait swung open and Hermione walked in, holding a tray of food. They boys hadn't noticed they didn't go down for lunch either. Time really passed rather quickly, to Harry's utmost surprise, considering who he was spending time with. Despite Malfoy being rather pleasant, Harry couldn't quite let go of all of his reservations.

"Harry. Malfoy." Hermione greeted the both of them. Harry smiled at his friend, and Malfoy curtly nodded. She placed the tray of food in Harry's lap. There was..a lot of food.

"I brought you some food since you haven't come down for either breakfast or lunch." She spoke, completely ignoring Malfoy's presence, which he seemed more than happy with. "Brought some for him too." She added, jerking her head in the blonde's direction. She seemed to ponder her next words for a moment:

"Uh Harry..do you mind me borrowing Malfoy for a second? It won't be long I promise."

Now at that, they were both equally horrified. Whatever unimaginable pain Hermione was about to inflict on Malfoy, Harry shuddered to think of. He just nodded and pulled his hand free from Malfoy's. In the next blink, everything went black.

He heard the two shuffling away, and he remained sitting there.

"What do you want Granger?" Draco asked, crossing his arms over his chest when she dragged him far enough away from Potter.

"When you came this morning I was too surprised to really question you. Now, however, I need to ask. Why the hell would you of all people, want to help Harry?"

Draco rolled his eyes:

"None of your business." He snapped, glaring at her. Like hell would he tell her that.

Not one to be intimidated, the shorter girl took a few steps closer, giving him an equally as withering glare:

"Harry is my best friend and you can be damn sure it's my business. Especially if you're pulling something funy."

Draco scoffed:

"Oh please Granger, if you really loved him as much as you make a show of, it would have been you able to help him, not me."

Her eyes widened ever so, Draco's glare not giving her an inch. Then she seemed to compose herself:

"Perhaps that's true. However, that's not what I asked you. Answer my question Malfoy."

"I did. I said it's none of your damn business." He barked, for a moment dropping his calm.

"You're making it my damn business by not answering properly Malfoy. Not even you can be that stupid not to know you're acting really bloody suspicious right now." She hissed, voice rising, shoving at his shoulder. He rolled his eyes again:

"So what if I am? What are you going to do about it? In 3 weeks this will all be over anyways."

"I'll pry the truth from you one way or another Malfoy. If you're planning something foul, I will find out." She threatened, turning and storming out of the common room. Draco shuddered. Whatever the hell she was planning to do, it couldn't have been anything good. Granger was smart, perhaps too damn smart for her own good. If she figures it out..well, that would just be a goddamn catastrophe.

Taking a moment to compose himself, he walked back to where Potter was still sitting on the couch, tray of food still on his lap. Draco sat down next to him and grabbed his hand.

"I heard Hermione yelling something, then I heard stomping. What the hell did you say to piss her off this bad Malfoy?" Were the first words out of Harry's mouth when his sight returned.

"Why do you assume it's my fault?" Malfoy asked, swiping an apple off the tray, attempting to divert the subject. Potter doesn't need to know shit.

"Malfoy, please." Harry cocked an eyebrow, grabbing a treacle tart. The blonde rolled his eyes and bit into his apple:

"Yeah, yeah everything's my fault." He moaned. Harry laughed:

"Of course it is."

"The Golden Boy couldn't possibly be wrong could he?" Malfoy muttered.

"Me? Never." Harry pompously shook his head. He dropped the matter of Hermione for now, as he was acutely aware Malfoy drifted away from the topic as soon as he was asked. He'd talk to her when he got the chance.

The rest of the day whizzed by fairly quickly and when the lot of the Gryffindors poured in after dinner, Draco felt deeply uncomfortable. Finally, he could take his leave. The Weasel went straight to his little secret corner, and attempted to be discreet about opening it. Key word: attempted. He gawked when he found it empty, and Draco watched his face flush almost as red as his hair in amusement. He turned and bellowed, halting everyone:

"Which one of you wankers ate my chocolate frogs?!"

Draco had to fight not to snicker, instead schooling his expression into something akin to disinterest. He glanced at Potter, who only winked, before mimicking Draco.

"I swear to Merlin, I will hex each of you until someone comes forth!" Weasel kept yelling, a few people laughing at him under their breaths. Draco couldn't resist:

"Will we be throwing up slugs, or you?"

A few people snickered, and Weasel zoomed into him with a murderous glare. Gods, Gryffindors were so easy to provoke. They always rose to the bait.

"Piss off Death Eater." Weasel spat, his words dripping with venom.

A thick silence descended over everyone in the vicinity. You could hear a pin drop. Draco paled. His mind seemed to shut down for a moment. He wasn't...He never...No. Everyone was staring between him and the Weasel, waiting with bated breath what would happen next. Stop fucking staring. He couldn't form a bitter retort if he'd tried in the moment, much to his dismay. A warm hand placed over his shocked him back to reality. Draco snapped out of it, and looked down to find Potter's free hand over their clasped ones. He wasn't saying anything, but his stare seemed to speak for him. Draco sneered at the Weasel, though that was the best he could do. People were still staring. Then, Draco felt a shimmering of magic, and looked at Potter, who seemed to have cast a silencing bubble around them, preventing anyone from hearing whatever he was about to say.

"Malfoy?" He asked and Draco turned to look at him. "Are you..okay?"

Draco nodded, but he didn't trust his voice.

"You have to say something back." Harry pointed out. Draco knew this, but nothing came to him. "You can't let him have this one." Harry kept speaking. He loved Ron, but sometimes, he could be a right git. Malfoy wasn't a Death Eater, as far as anyone knew, and besides, even if he was, you couldn't just announce it in front of 20 people as if it was nothing.

"I know Potter." Draco replied, not letting the rest of the sentence tumble out. He silently prayed Potter would just give him something. Anything, at this point.

"Look, you don't have much time to come up with something. Just insult him on the count of his intelligence or something, I don't know. C'mon, you've been snarling at me for years, surely you didn't lose your touch." Harry rushed, quickly dispelling the silencing charm. Draco looked back at the Weasel, who was now smirking.

"Hit a nerve did I Malfoy?" He taunted, and Draco drew himself up:

"Please Weasel. As if the likes of you could disturb me. You can't tell the difference between Mandrake root and Moonstone powder. You'll have to do much more than make a baseless assumption to get under my skin."

The ginger flushed in anger, but Draco kept going:

"The entire duration of you attending Hogwarts, all you've done is be a nuisance. Case and point, you managed to maim your supposed best friend. Do tell, what's the punishment for incapacitating someone?"

"Malfoy, I'm warning you. Shut up." The ginger idiot grit, and Draco laughed haughtily:

"Warning me? You? You couldn't do any real damage if you tried. Unless it's your own ego you're trying to break, as you've shown by so merrily spitting out slugs for how long was it?"

The redhead seemed to be sick with rage by then and pulled his wand out with lighting speed, aiming at Draco, who barely had time to react.

"Pungo!" He yelled, a white light flashing from the tip of his wand hurtling towards Draco.

"Subsisto!" Harry reacted equally as quickly, the white light bursting into thin air seconds short of hitting Draco's face. "Ron what the fuck?!" Harry yelled at his friend, who had lowered his wand, still fuming. "Do you even realize what that jinx does?!" Harry hissed, glaring at Ron. Ron was starting to realize what he had done.

"I.." He started, but truth was, he had no idea what that jinx would have done to Malfoy.

"Exactly! You have no bloody clue! For all you know you could have disfigured him permanently!" Harry reprimanded, voice rising.

"Why are you even defending him?" Ron suddenly counter accused.

"He's helping me, which is more than what you've done." Harry was quick to spit back. Malfoy was Malfoy, and had insulted him countless of times, been a complete ass, but bloody hell he was helping Harry and that was something Harry couldn't ignore or forget. Besides, Pungo was a stinging jinx and a hell of a one too. Harry wouldn't wish it upon anyone, not even Malfoy.

"Bloody hell. Should've let the Hat sort you with the rest of them. They're all slimy gits, much like you're turning out to be Harry." Ron snapped, and stormed up into the dorms. Harry blanched. Everyone was still staring.

"What? Move along, nothing to see here." Malfoy bit at them, and mercifully, they all obeyed, moving up into the dorms, uneasy looks on their faces. It wasn't another moment before they were alone again. Harry just blankly stared at the spot where Ron stood.

"Potter?" He heard Malfoy call out to him, and he whipped his head around to stare at the blonde. His face was carefully, blank, save for a crease in his forehead as his brows furrowed.

"It's fine." Harry quickly shut down whatever Malfoy would have asked. "You can go back to Slytherin. It's late." He added. His words were quivering, and if Malfoy noticed, he didn't say anything. He just let go of Harry's hand and stood up without a word, the black overcoming Harry's vision again as he heard Malfoy leave.

Bloody hell...

What the hell was that?

This time, Harry welcomed the black, a single tear slipping down his cheek.

The next morning, Harry woke up on the couch he'd fallen asleep on last night. The events of the previous evening came back to him and swiftly ruined his mood for the day. Malfoy didn't come this morning it seemed. For some reason, that only served to worsen his already shattered mood.

"Harry? I heard what happened last night..I.." Hermione's voice startled Harry. He hadn't heard her come in, or felt the couch dip. She might've already been there before he woke up.

"Good morning to you too." Harry said dryly, not really wishing to dig into the conversation she had opened.

"Are you okay?" She pointedly asked, seemingly purposefully ignoring his cold tone.

"Yes. I'm fine. As if me and Ron haven't fought before." He scoffed. Honestly...

"Yes, but not over Malfoy. Never over Malfoy." She pointed out. Harry rubbed his eyes, glad he could only see black at this time. Her face was something Harry didn't fancy to look at this early in the morning.

"Ron threw Pungo at him Hermione. Would you have let anyone get hit with that jinx?" He bit.

"I wouldn't go out of my way to protect someone who wouldn't extend me the same courtesy, if the roles were reversed." She replied, and Harry scoffed indignantly:

"Need I remind you that he is willingly helping me after Ron did this to me Hermione? It seems to have slipped your mind." In truth, Harry didn't know why he was being so protective of Malfoy.

"Harry. This is Malfoy we're talking about. Didn't it cross your mind for a second that he might have some ulterior motive? That he might not be helping you out of the goodness of his heart, if he even has one?" Hermione spoke, voice exasparated. If Harry could see her, her brows would have been furrowed and face scrunched up.

"It...It didn't.." Harry admitted, a part of him burning with embarrassment. It hadn't occurred to him once that Malfoy might be playing at some bigger picture. Everything happened very suddenly and quickly that Harry didn't have a moment to question anything. It would make sense, if he had something else in mind. He had agreed so readily to be stuck to Harry, this guy who he's hated and bullied for years, for nearly an entire month. The Gryffindor suddenly felt very stupid for not at least considering the possibility.

"I asked him yesterday why he was helping you. He snapped at me that it was none of my business. That's very suspicious, isn't it Harry?" She continued and Harry bit his lip. That was suspicious, especially since he seemed to be in agreement with what Harry had told him about the matter. Apparently, there was more to it.

"I guess? I don't know. It doesn't matter Hermione, really, it doesn't. Even if he is planning something, it's not something we won't be able to overcome. We've faced much worse than Malfoy." Harry shrugged, not quite willing to give in to the notion that Malfoy is doing this out of malice, though he didn't know why he was so hesitant. Just a few days ago, he would have been the first one making such an assumption. He just..didn't want it to be true.

"Alright Harry. Come on, let's go down to breakfast." Hermione gave in, though he knew she still wasn't satisfied.

He nodded and stood up, his friend looping her arm through his to lead him. As they made their way to the Great Hall, they chatted pleasantly, vetoing the subject of Malfoy entirely. However, as they approached the Great Hall, Hermione stopped Harry abruptly:

"Will you sit with us or with the Slytherins?"

Harry bit his lip. He knew well he couldn't eat without seeing what he was doing, but he also didn't want to deal with the Slytherins' shit or somehow embarrass Malfoy. Harry didn't know what he thought of what happened last night, and if his presence would only make it worse. He didn't particularly fancy risking this rocky acquaintanceship between them if he did something to taint Malfoy's pride. He'd rather embarrass himself by being fed by his friends, surprising as it were.

"We'll see what happens.." He replied, not quite wanting to admit he was hoping Malfoy would invite him over himself. His face flushed, but his friend complied quietly and tugged him into the Great Hall, the noise rising as they entered. She stopped for a moment, as if waiting, her grip on him tight. Then, she continued walking. Harry followed, not sure what was happening.

"Granger. I'll take it from here." A cold drawl halted them. Harry felt himself yanked away from Hermione somewhat roughly, his sight returning as Malfoy gripped his forearm. He was scowling. "Thank you." He grit and turned around, promptly dragging Harry to the Slytherin table, leaving a stunned Hermione behind. Harry took a seat in the same spot he did yesterday, and Malfoy grabbed his hand, resting it between them on the bench. Parkinson was giving the blonde a meaningful look, mouthing something to him, at which he seemed to flush and frown, shaking his head. She cackled, but otherwise said nothing. Harry grabbed a treacle tart and ate it with one hand, ignoring the rest of the table. A swath of magic had Harry glancing at Malfoy, who seemed to be in a silencing bubble along with Zabini and Parkinson. No one could hear what they were saying, earning a few suspicious glances.

"Jealous much?" Pansy teased, earning a chuckle from Blaise.

"I am NOT-" Draco hissed, flushing nonetheless.

"Oh please, you glared at Granger as if you were trying to kill her." Blaise cut him off. "You're so whipped for him." He finished and Draco glared at them both.

"I am most definitely not whipped. Maybe...infatuated.." He hissed, but he knew they had a point.

"Draco, darling." Pansy snickered and Draco banged his head on the table:

"Can't you just let me suffer in silence?"

"Of course not. We're your friends, we exist to make you suffer." Blaise smiled. "You can't act as if you aren't putty just holding his hand."

"Blaise, I'm begging you-" Draco started, but Pansy smoothly interrupted him:

"I heard him muttering to himself about how perfect Potter was one night."

Draco wanted to die on the spot. This was utterly humiliating.

"Oh that's nothing. You should hear what he says in his sleep." Blaise spoke, smiling wolfishly at Pansy.

"Oh my Salazar, Draco. In your sleep too?" Pansy clicked her tounge and Draco just hid his face into his free arm. Bloody hell.

"Keeps me up all night with all his whining and moaning." Blaise was smiling so wide his face would split. If only.

"I hate you two. So much." He muttered.

"It's not our fault you're shit at hiding your feelings." Pansy shrugged.

"I'm perfectly good at it. He hasn't figured out yet has he?" Draco defended himself. Pansy rolled her eyes as she placed some food in her mouth:

"Draco you could come up to him and tell him 'I am literally madly in love with you' , and he wouldn't take the hint."

"Alright, fine, he is a little oblivious I admit-"

"A little is an understatement. He didn't think anything of you literally sitting with him in the Gryffindor common room for a full day. Morning to night. Nothing occurred to him. There's no lights on inside." Blaise tssked, shaking his head at Potter, who was paying them no mind.

"Okay fine, very oblivious, but as long as he doesn't figure it out, I'm a bloody master at hiding how I feel." Draco forcefully stabbed a piece of Shepherd's pie with his fork.

"Well, I don't like him, in fact, I despise him, he's worthless to me, so I will not be getting involved in whatever you boys are playing at." Pansy shrugged. It was ridiculous how deep under Draco's skin Potter had gotten, but at the same time, it was endlessly funny how nervous and embarrassed Draco got when it came to the Gryffindor idiot.

"You're so hopelessly in love with him Draco, you need to be careful. You know everything will go to hell if anyone finds out." Blaise warned, always worried that Draco will slip and then everything will fall apart.

"Of course I'm being careful, you dimwit." Draco scowled, and glanced at Potter, who was sitting there, head bent down to stare into his lap. Fucking prick.

Pansy dispelled the silencing charm without another word, not paying the slightest bit of mind to anyone else beyond her food.

After the silencing charm was dropped, Harry glanced up at the three, neither of which were speaking. Malfoy seemed frazzled though. He leaned over to whisper in his ear:

"You alright Malfoy? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Malfoy shivered and swallowed a load before speaking:

"Fine Potter. Move away. Ever heard of personal space?"

Harry nodded and sat as far away as their holding hands permitted. Pansy rolled her eyes at Potter and mumbled 'idiot' under her breath. Blaise hid a smirk behind his cup of pumpkin juice. They were acting awfully suspicious, Harry realized, his stomach sinking. What if Hermione was right? Who knows what they were discussing under the protection of the silencing charm?

There was no time to ponder that however, as breakfast was over and everyone was heading to their classes. Harry had the first few periods with the Slytherins, but the last two he had with the Ravenclaws, so he supposed he'd sit through them blind. Walking through the horde of snickering students holding hands was a bit weird at first, but Harry found he didn't mind all that, considering the alternative.

The classes were boring as usual. He sat through and took dutiful notes, the only interesting thing was noting that Malfoy was left-handed if he were honest. The last two, were he sat through staring into nothing but black, were even more tedious, he was so happy when they were over. Hermione was there to hold onto him as she lead him back into the common room. Harry couldn't help but feel as if someone was staring at him the entire time though. He turned his head instinctively before realizing it was no use as he couldn't see anyways and turning back. He couldn't help but feel so pleased his days of blindness were through. Less pleased realizing his hearing was next. A day closer to it all being over, he consoled himself.

When Harry woke up, he was so startled by the fact he could see the ceiling above his bed, that he'd failed to register the complete absence of sound. However, it didn't take long for the silence to make itself known, and Harry gasped, a terror seeping into him as he realized he didn't hear it. He didn't hear anything in fact. He sat up abruptly, staring at his dorm-mates, who were staring right back at him, brows furrowed. He shifted on the bed, not hearing the rustling of fabric, and opened his mouth, forming words though he wasn't sure if he was even speaking at all, or if he was, how loudly or how clearly. There was nothing. He was engulfed by a complete lack of any and all sounds, and it took a good few moments to realize this was supposed to happen. The Draught of Numbness, Ron cocking up, being blinded by darkness for two days, holding Malfoy's hand...Malfoy! Harry realized with a jolt, that he needed to go to Malfoy. Right away. Malfoy could help him. Just as he was about to jump off the bed, a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked up and saw Ron, saw that Ron's mouth was moving, yet he heard absolutely nothing. He shook his head frantically at his friend, forming words with his own mouth:

"I can't hear you. I can't hear anything. I need Malfoy."

From the look on Ron's face, he seemed to understand, so Harry was relieved he actually spoke. From the wince after he started speaking, he presumed he was doing it too loudly. He didn't care. He couldn't help it anyways. Ron pulled Harry up and down into the common room, having him sit on the couch as he enunciated the words 'Wait here'. He'd kept talking, but those two words were the only thing Harry could read from his lips. Then, he was gone, presumably to get Malfoy. Harry looked around and felt as if everything was wrong. There was supposed to be sound, so much sound around him, and after a startling cut of bitter realization, he knew there was, just not for him. For him, everything was silent. Not even silent, Harry noted, silence always had the soft wisp of your breathing or the gentle shimmering of clothes to it, this..this felt as if the world was entirely drained of all sounds. So suddenly, so quickly, everything, gone. Harry realized with yet another jolt of panic, that anything could sneak up on him in the next two days, curse him or worse kill him. And he wouldn't have a damn clue.

A shadow passing over him alerted him to someone's presence in the common room. He looked up and saw Malfoy, looking quite dishevelled, with Ron standing behind him, frazzled and flushed from the presuming running. Malfoy knelt in front of Harry and grabbed his hand. Harry drew in a breath, and waited for noise to come.

But it didn't.

The raven gripped Malfoy's hand tighter, willing to hear anything, straining. His breaths, his heartbeat, clothing, something. But a lack of all of the aforementioned things let Harry know that something was seriously wrong. He shook his head, and saw Malfoy's brows furrow too, along with Ron's. The blonde's lips moved as he spoke to Ron, and Ron's moved too, but Harry couldn't tell anything they were saying. Suddenly, he saw Hermione rushing into the common-room, holding a quill and a piece of parchment. She ran up to the two, and if her face was anything to go by, scolded them for something, while Harry sat there, endlessly confused. She then began furiously scribbling on the parchment, and when she was done, shoved it at Harry. He read it and accepted the quill she was offering.

'Are you okay? What happened?'

'I can't hear anything, but Malfoy's touch isn't helping. Something's really wrong. We need to go to Snape.'

Harry shakily wrote and gave it to Hermione, who nodded and pulled him up, the four of them briskly marching towards Snape's classroom. Harry noticed that Malfoy still hasn't dropped his hand, for which he was grateful, even if it did nothing to help him. As they passed through the halls, Harry's mind listed everything he should have been able to hear, but couldn't. Their footsteps echoing, their ragged breathing, the other students chattering. He banished these bitter thoughts, and focused on what was at hand. Learning what the fuck was going on.

They barged into Snape's classroom like a bunch of buffoons, and if the man's scowl was anything to go by, that's exactly what he regarded them as. However upon seeing the lost look on Harry's face, he seemed to give a little. He spoke slowly, as he always did, making it much easier for Harry to distinguish his words on his lips.

"What is it?" He'd asked.

His two friends and Malfoy all started talking at once, explaining the situation. Snape seemed to pale, his expression sallow when they were done. He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, before grabbing his wand and pointing it at the board, words starting to appear. Harry was grateful for the Potions master's consideration as they all sat in front of the board, Malfoy still gripping Harry's hand.

'I was hoping it wouldn't come to this.' Harry read and shivered. Well fuck.

'However, it seems that with the Draught's progress, the standard for vetoing it's effects rose.'

What did that mean? Did he and Malfoy need to have more contact?

'A greater amount of physical contact has to be achieved in order to sidestep the curse, as it's gotten stronger itself, and thus more has to be given to ward it off.'

Malfoy seemed to ask something, but Harry kept his eyes trained on the board. Snape nodded, and pointed his wand at the board once more.

'Something such as...cuddling..for 15 minutes or longer should halt the curse enough so that you may deter it with mere hand holding for the duration of the 2 days. It's akin to a contract. You sign it once, and then you follow it, though it does not need to be followed as strictly.'

Harry gaped. Cuddling? Cuddling Malfoy? That couldn't be comfortable. The git was so full of hard edges and ridges, he was so pointy, all he'd end up doing was poke and prod Harry into bruising. Harry was surprised that that was his first concern, not the very idea he'd need to cuddle Malfoy if he wanted to hear something for the next 2 days. Gods, it was too early in the morning for this.

'Unfortunately, for now, this is the only solution. However, I encourage you two to discuss and decide what to do next for yourselves. I would like you to go to a neutral space as I am well aware how...heated...things get between the two of you. I suggest the library. , , you are dismissed. You may return to your common room.'

Harry snickered at the board. Heated was a bit of an understatement alright. There was no one who could blow his fuse quite like Malfoy, no one who knew just what to say and how to say it to make Harry lose his damn mind. Prat.

He stood and tugged Malfoy along by their hands, nodding at Snape and the board, and headed out. Malfoy looked as if he wanted to say something, but then seemed to realize Harry couldn't hear him and thought better of it.

They entered the library and Harry pulled Malfoy to the most secluded, far away corner they could barely squeeze into, with a single couch shoved into it, bookshelves surrounding it on three sides and the wall behind it. No one knew about this place, and no one could see them here, which is what Harry was aiming for. He pulled a loose piece of scrap parchment from somewhere in his robes, summoning his quill, and he started to write, settling more comfortably on the couch.

'If you aren't comfortable with going that far to help, I understand. I'm not thrilled about the idea either, but I'm not opposed it wholly, just for the fact that I'd get my hearing back from it.'

That was a bit of a white lie, but Harry would rather be damned to Hell than admit he didn't entirely mind. He gave the parchment to Malfoy, who read the words and took the quill from Harry's offering fingertips.

'I don't really care. I don't think its as big of a deal as everyone says.'

Harry noted how scribbly the last word was, implying Malfoy's hand shook. Was he lying? Harry just shrugged and nodded, tucking the parchment and quill away. They both sat there for a few beating seconds, a bit awkwardly.

Then, Harry scooted backwards, until he was leaning on the armrest of the couch, and he spread his legs, patting the space between them. In the sheltered dim light of their tucked away corner, he noticed Malfoy flush ever so slightly, before he crawled closer to Harry, turning and resting his back on Harry's chest. He was as stiff as ever as Harry wrapped his arms around his thin waist, properly holding him. Gods he couldn't believe he was cuddling Draco Malfoy. Though it could barely be afforded the name, as Malfoy was stiff as a board. Harry moved his arms to rub at his shoulders. He didn't trust his ability to keep his voice down when he couldn't hear it, so he tried to implore Malfoy to relax in a different manner. This would never work unless he was relaxed, at least for those 15 minutes.

Harry sighed in relief when he felt Malfoy start to give beneath his fingers. He allowed himself to sink into Harry, who moved his arms to rest around Malfoy's waist again, his head leaning back on the armrest, as Malfoy's dropped onto Harry's chest. Malfoy was so warm, and soft, and not at all boney and rough as Harry imagined he'd be. Such odd thoughts to be harboring for your supposed arch-enemy, Harry realized with a smile. And, with a bigger one, he realized he didn't mind holding Malfoy as he much as he thought he would. A lot of assumptions have been broken in the past 3 days, not that Harry was all that upset of it. Despite lacking the ability to see anything but the malicious darkness for the past two days, Harry felt as if he was seeing things in a new light. Malfoy wasn't as big a bastard as he acted, he was actually every bit interesting when all your interactions weren't reduced to snarling threats and petty squabbles. Maybe...just maybe it would be alright if Harry let go of the pretense. Just maybe..it would be alright if Harry dropped 'Malfoy' and instead, filled the blank with 'Draco'...Perhaps, he'd see. He wasn't sure of anything yet.

Malfoy's lack of shifting had Harry glance down at him at one point, only to realize, with an alarming burst of endearment, that the blonde, had fallen asleep. Well..that was..Harry couldn't believe he'd actually fallen asleep here, in Harry's arms. He didn't mind. In fact, he was more bothered by the thought of waking him up. So, as the only solution he seemed feasible in that moment, he held him just ever so slightly tighter, and fell asleep too.

"Potter?"

Harry heard through the sleepy haze in his mind. He felt his shoulder getting tugged gently. For a moment, he considered ignoring the voice, but then it hit him he heard anything at all. Snapping to attention at once, he sat up, bleary eyes staring into Malfoy's. He smiled wide and sputtered:

"I hear you." Harry couldn't for a moment believe it. Snape's advice actually worked, though Harry didn't know why he'd doubted it at all. Perhaps because it was Malfoy, and they didn't exactly function, for lack of a better word.

"I'm glad Potter." Malfoy stated in reply, before sitting back on his knees, still resting between Harry's outstretched legs. He seemed deeply uncomfortable by something. Harry rubbed at his eyes, readjusting his glasses so they sat on his nose proper. Malfoy merely regarded him quietly, breathing even and eyes passive. He seemed as if he had words at the tip of his tongue, but his lips were pressed in a thin line, not allowing them to be spoken.

"How long was I out?" Harry asked, choosing not to mention how it was Malfoy who'd fallen asleep in Harry's arms.

"Too long apparently. Your hair looks appalling, like I never corrected it at all." The blonde informed him and Harry rolled his eyes:

"Can't tame this wild mane."

"Bloody lion." Malfoy grumbled, his hand still on Harry's thigh, so Harry could hear and speak.

"Damn snake." Harry retorted, and grabbed Malfoy's hand, pulling him off of the cramped couch and into the library proper. "However long we were out for, people are bound to ask questions." Harry quipped as they exited the library, and made their way down into the Great Hall. If Harry had to wager a guess, they might clip the last few minutes of dinner. He was right, and as they walked in, everyone gave them wry grins. What? Malfoy pulled him along to the Slytherin table, and they took their seats as usual, Harry as far away as possible.

"Look who's decided to join us.." Parkinson sneered as soon as Harry's arse was seated. He shook his head, he was still far too groggy to deal with this.

"Piss off Parkinson." He snapped, irritated.

"Oooh someone's tense. What? Is cuddling such a strange concept to you that you'd get all pissy about it?" Parkinson spat the words with particular distaste emphasized on the word 'cuddling'. How did she even found out? Didn't matter. Harry sighed and braced himself:

"Is keeping your mouth shut such a strange concept to you that you're incapable of doing it when there isn't a cock shoved in it?" He snapped, equally as venomous. Parkinson's eyes glowed with the challenge. Damn Slytherins..

"How would you know what having a cock in your mouth feels like Potty? Unless, of course, you had one in your mouth before." Her eyes turned to Draco. "Congratulations is in order, I suppose. You got the Golden Boy on his knees for you."

Harry flushed and felt his magic bubble with the rage. The presumptuous bitch! Instead of barking a myriad of colorful oaths at her, he just smiled maliciously:

"Actually, love, I don't know what having a cock in my mouth feels like, but your mother informed me of it in great detail a few nights back."

"At least I have a mother." Parkinson wasted no time in replying. Malfoy seized his hand tighter on the bench between them, but kept his mouth shut. Harry was thrown for a spin by that last one, but he was aware he'd walked himself straight into that one, so he concurred:

"Touche. I walked straight into that one."

For a moment, Parkinson seemed shocked he let her have the victory, and he only smiled at her:

"I know when I am beat." Harry knew such a response would most definitely make her feel guilt for what she'd said. A calm, collected step-down would have her rethink her words. Precisely what Harry had wanted. He wasn't going to pretend her words didn't hurt. They burned like a bitch, but he kept a pleasant smile on his face. She was silent, gnawing on her lip every once in a while.

"I'll let go to eat." Malfoy informed him suddenly and Harry nodded, all sound ceasing in the next moment. He shivered from the sudden quiet that hit him, and continued to eat.

"Pansy." Draco growled, knowing Harry couldn't hear anything they say. His friend looked at him, her expression remorseful, she said nothing though. Blaise had silently been sitting there, listening to the entire exchange, but after Pansy had brought Potter's dead mother into the quip, he kicked her under the table. Really, even the Slytherins had limits past which they didn't dare insult.

"Pansy what the fuck?" Draco asked again, his voice rising ever so slightly, as well as his temper. She scoffed:

"I'm not obligated to take his shit just because you're in love with him."

"You started it." Draco pointed out, running a hand through his hair.

"And he continued it." She hissed. "I don't give a damn about your crush Draco, I will not sit here and be insulted by a fucking Gryffindor, because you're horny."

"Pans, you could have stayed quiet and he never would have said a word to you. And you know that." Blaise chimed in, glancing at Potter, who was eating quietly.

"His presence irks me." Pansy attempted to meekly defend herself. "No one wants him here." She scoffed and Blaise sighed:

"That's not the point here. The point is you should have left well enough alone, and not insulted someone's dead mother."

"You're unbelievable. We're Slytherins or did that slip your mind recently?" She waved her arms as she spoke.

"What seems to have slipped your mind is that our house traits don't include being a goddamn pest." Draco snipped, warily glancing back at Harry, satisfied to find he wasn't reacting to anything being said.

"You've gone soft Draco. Over him no less. I remember a time you wouldn't have spared anyone any type of low blow. In fact, I remember a time you insulted Potter on the exact same account I did just now. If I remember correctly, it was on the train just this year, wasn't it?" Pansy snarled, and Draco paled. He swallowed and glared at her instead.

"That was.." He started, but she cut him off:

"Different? How Draco? You might've been doing it to cover up your real feelings, but the words were spoken all the same."

"I.." But he knew she was right.

"Exactly. You've no ground to give me shit." She barked again, snapping him into a mournful silence. Draco knew Pansy was just flared up, and that she'd apologize later, and that he'd accept the apology, but it didn't sting any less. Perhaps he ought to apologize. He chanced another glance at Potter, who was staring back at him, having looked up when Parkinson started waving her arms around while speaking about something quite heatedly. Right now, Harry was staring at Malfoy with a cocked eyebrow, unconsciously reaching for Malfoy's hand, which the other drew away. Harry felt mildly disappointed, and moved his hand back into his lap, not looking at anyone through the rest of dinner.

After it was over, Harry quickly stood and walked to meet with his friends, only giving a small wave to Malfoy as he departed. Whatever the hell Malfoy and his friends were discussing had gotten to Malfoy, that much was obvious. Harry wanted to ask, but Malfoy drew his hand away, so Harry turned away. It wasn't his place anyways, was it? He'd only known the guy for a few days, well, without trying to insult him that was. Only a few days they'd been on good terms, Harry wasn't entitled to any information. Sure, they had done something intimate, but Harry wagered it still didn't warrant anything. He wanted to ask, perhaps tomorrow, out of what Harry distastefully pegged as possibly worry, but also didn't at the same time, not really wanting to pry or come off as someone attempting to pry. He walked to his friends and nodded at them, slowly falling in step with the group as they headed back to Gryffindor. Harry felt eyes on him as he walked, beautiful gray eyes. His stomach twisted and he pointedly ignored them.

Harry lay in bed in complete silence that night, staring up at the ceiling. After tomorrow, Harry would lose his sense of touch, which, if you asked him would be the easiest two days of this. He wouldn't feel pleasure or pain from being touched, which he was distinctly okay with, especially the latter one. He just planned to plough through the entirety of tomorrow, and the rest of the days for that matter. He felt nauseated just thinking how the entire cycle would repeat until Snape could brew the potion. How long had it been? 3 days. Only 3 fucking days. Eighteen more to go. He was still on shaky terms with Ron, after the common room incident, but he found he didn't have the strength in him to hold grudges, especially with so much other punches he was taking. Hermione's words were still spinning in his head. It was so unlikely that Malfoy had any other plans in mind, well, it was to Harry, who'd slept like a baby holding him the very same day. Hermione didn't know that, of course she would be suspicious. She didn't know how casually Malfoy had lounged in Harry's lap fixing his hair, or how genuinely intriguing he was when he wasn't being a bully. She only ever saw the bully, but then again, Malfoy had only ever been a bully to her, so she wasn't really to blame for her suspicions. Harry sighed, and turned over onto his side in his bed, the lack of sound a constant pinched nerve in his mind as he struggled to fall asleep.

Harry's second day of his temporary deafness had passed by very slowly, much to his chagrin. Malfoy had taken his hand in front of the Great Hall, and they didn't speak much, to Harry's displeasure. He had meant to ask him about what happened yesterday at dinner but from the ever present scowl on the blonde's face, and how stiff he was, how unresponsive and snappy, Harry gauged something else wrong had occurred in the meantime, and really didn't feel like getting his head twisted off of his shoulders by prodding too much. However, Harry had also never been good at leaving well enough alone, nor had he ever had very strong self-preservation instincts, so, well aware this would end badly, he tentatively asked while they were in History of Magic, a class so boring not even the Professor was passionate about what he was teaching:

"Malfoy, what happened at dinner yesterday?"

Malfoy groaned, and glared at Harry out of the corner of his eyes:

"None of your business Potter." He snapped, harsher than he'd intended. A momentary flash of hurt flittered across Harry's face, and a pang of regret stabbed at Draco.

"I know it isn't, but I was worried so I thought I'd ask. Sorry." Harry winced. He scolded himself, this was Malfoy. A week ago anything that came out of Malfoy's mouth would have just made him scaldingly angry. But that was before..before Harry held him, before they constantly held hands, before Harry protected him from Ron's spell, before he came to the Gryffindor common room of his own volition to spend the day with Harry, before he agreed to be helping Harry through this, before he so casually sat in his lap, fussing over Harry's hair, it was before so many things that now Harry couldn't help but seriously listen and consider everything he said. And that meant getting hurt sometimes too.

The blonde replied nothing to him, and stubbornly kept his eyes at the board, though Harry could clearly see they were unfocused. He felt as if there was still something left unsaid, but he didn't know if Malfoy wanted Harry to continue the conversation. He likely didn't, if his flaming cheeks were anything to go by. Harry bit his lip, staring at Malfoy's profile while he wondered how to salvage this. Nothing he could say felt right, until:

"Can I call you Draco?" He blurted, almost wishing to draw the words back in at the completely blanched look Malfoy gave him, head whipping around to stare at Harry with such disbelief it would have been funny under any other circumstance.

"Why?" He asked, his tone defensive and Harry flinched.

"I want to. I feel like we aren't on bad terms anymore. I don't want to address you as if we're still enemies." Harry explained, a little apprehensive the other would just tell him to 'piss off'.

"We aren't friends either." Draco stated, but it felt more like a question. Harry shrugged:

"Why not?" Really, why not? "You've been nothing if not interesting, so I see no reason not to be friends. Unless you don't want to."

You are making this infinitely more difficult for me Harry. Draco mused as he stared at the blasted Gryffindor. If you could kindly hate me again, I would be much obliged.

"I.." Draco wanted to shut Harry's stupid preposition down right away, but goddammit if he didn't want to be friends too. Bloody hell Blaise was right, he did need to be more careful. A few days with Harry and he was already reduced to a blubbering mess of a boy with a crush. He bit his lip and shook his head, no matter how much it fucking pained him to do so:

"There is no need in us becoming friends. Neither will benefit from it."

He didn't dare look at Harry's crushed face.

"You don't make friends for benefit.." He muttered, pushing his glasses higher onto his nose. "You make them for the support and love and fun." He kept muttering, staring down into his own lap. His voice was barely above a whisper, and Draco could hear his heart shattering. Fucking fuck goddammit!

"Why would you want to make friends with me?" He asked, running a hand through his blonde hair with his free hand. Harry didn't respond right away, and Draco bit his lip waiting. For fucks sake Potter, hurry the hell up and speak.

"Because I've had fun with you, despite the curse." He answered simply, and really, when had he become so good with words? "And also I just plain want to." He added stubbornly, not unlike a small child trying to argue their point without actual facts. Draco swallowed a grin. "But it's alright that you don't want to. I didn't imagine you would. Wanted to ask though." He finished speaking.

Draco almost slammed his head onto the table. This buffoon. How could he even say that-Oh Merlin's balls! Instead, he just cleared his throat:

"There is no need for us to become friends. However..yes, you may call me Draco."

After that scarily open conversation, the rest of the day just kind of dragged along, and now, Draco was on the couch in the Slytherin common room, replaying everything over and over in his head. Blaise was sitting next to him, waiting for Draco to tell him why he came into the common room looking as if he was stomped over by an Erumpet.

"He asked to be friends today." Draco finally stated, giving Blaise quite a jostle. "He asked if he could call me Draco."

"Salazar, that must've been quite the discussion." The dark skinned boy remarked, but his features were careful: "You said no, right Draco?"

Draco scowled and hissed through a strained voice:

"Of course I said no, don't be daft."

"I know you want to, but you know the danger." Blaise's voice was soft, comforting.

"I know." Draco whimpered, sick of being told the same fucking things on repeat. He damn well knew what the risks were, he damn well knew what stood between him and the only person he wanted to the point of pain. He knew, and he didn't need to be bloody reminded of it.

"I'm sorry Draco.." Blaise said, an odd moment of tenderness. "I can't imagine what it feels like.."

"It feels like getting stabbed repeatedly." Draco snapped and deflated again. Blaise said nothing. He knew when his input was wanted, and when it was not. Then they felt the couch dip, and Pansy sank down onto it.

"Draco, I'm sorry." She apologized, voice mild.

"I know you are." Draco half-shrugged. He'd gotten in rows with Pansy before, and she always said some terrifyingly nasty things in the throes of her angry fits, but she always regretted them afterwards, and apologized without missing a beat.

"What happened to you? You look as if you died and came back." She changed the subject, a woeful change it was indeed, but Draco recounted everything to her anyways.

"Christ, he's an idiot." She huffed. "Of course that stupid Gryffindor wouldn't for a moment consider the bigger picture. What do you even see in him anyways?" She shook her head. Draco shrugged, the list too long to rattle off right now. There was so much about Harry that Draco wanted. Draco just wanted him entirely. So fucking much.

"Are you sure continuing to hang around him is a good idea?" Pansy suddenly asked, snapping Draco out of it. No, no it wasn't. Not at all. Not even the slightest bit. Nope.

"No." Draco pursed his lips. In too deep to stop himself now. Not even he had that much self-control. His friend sighed:

"But you won't stop will you?"

"Indeed." The blonde muttered.

"I don't know Draco..Maybe Pans has a point." Blaise muttered. "You're just killing yourself here, plus putting so much at risk."

The exasperated boy dropped his head into his hands. "Fuck Blaise, what have I gotten myself into?"

"A shitshow." The other replied, dropping a hand on his friend's shoulder.

~
Harry really didn't take well to the rejection, though he'd been expecting it. He knew Draco wouldn't want to become friends, it was foolish to hope, and yet..

And yet.

Harry shook his head at himself. Even if Draco did want to be friends, there was too much other baggage. Harry would have wanted to try to make it work, but he wasn't surprised Draco wouldn't risk it. He lay in his bed, deaf to everything, only thinking about the awkward conversation. At least he was willing to move past last names. Harry couldn't help but wonder what this meant for their future interactions. He knew he couldn't go back to snarling insults at Draco after this ends. He knew himself enough to know he'd end up pathetically recounting this period of time, where they weren't enemies, he knew he'd become consumed, much like he once did with Draco too. Heh, who was he lying to? Like he always was. Always has been. Hell, they'd probably get out of school and never see each other again, and Harry would still lay awake in bed sometimes thinking back to the stupid, annoying Slytherin. Much like he was doing right now.

Waking up brought to light that yet another part of himself was missing. He could see and hear, but he felt so numb. As if he was submerged in freezing water for just long enough to lose all feel and sense of his skin, and then put under stasis in such a state. He looked at his hands, surprised to find them there. He didn't feel his limbs or his bedsheets beneath his fingertips. He couldn't tell you their texture if he'd tried. The only confirmation he had that he was even holding anything was the fact he saw his fingers curling around them. He blinked and sat up, scowling. He was so properly done to wake up to another unpleasant surprise waiting for him. If Snape could hurry the fuck up with the counter potion, it would be lovely. He sighed in exasperation and rubbed his eyes, startled. He didn't even feel the pressure atop his eyelids, he was just vaguely aware he was moving his arms in the usual manner he did when rubbing his eyes. Harry shuddered, eating his words for saying touch would be the easiest sense to lose. It certainly wasn't the hardest, but it was definitely the weirdest. He reached for his glasses, and seeing himself clasp them was the only way he'd known he'd touched them at all. It was as if all the nerve endings and sensors in his skin disappeared, died, gone, just like that. He blinked and stood up, getting dressed, though not feeling the weight of his clothes on him, not feeling them cling to his skin. He felt as if he were still naked, but a frantic look in the mirror assured him he wasn't. He really needed to find Draco, and quickly. Draco. Fuck. Acid burned Harry's throat as he remembered what happened yesterday. He asked for Draco's friendship, and was refused. Too much was at risk, he'd known even offering, but, being the Gryffindor that he is, decided to work with the risks. However, a Slytherin such as Draco had a bit more common sense, and had decidedly not to allow anything to progress, therefore preventing a possible disaster. Harry had wanted to say it was cowardly, but he couldn't. It was just self-preservation.

A sudden chuckle slipping past his lips, he thought if Draco felt this dejected when they were 11. If it was, Harry could understand the bitterness that carried through the years, well, now, he could. Back then, he'd snickered at Draco for not getting over it. If only he'd known back then that years later, he'd end up in the blonde prat's shoes, he might've kept his mouth shut. Or snickered louder, depending upon the circumstances. He slipped out of the dorms and down to the common room, regarding Ron with a mere curt nod, moving to sit next to Hermione.

"Morning." She muttered, smiling at him and he reciprocated. "What will it be these 2 days?" She asked in the same breath.

"Touch. Well, it's more than that. I can't feel my limbs, or my skin or anything. The only way I'm aware I've touched something is that I can see myself doing it." Harry explained, still staring at his hands incredulously.

"Ah. Should we go find Malfoy then?" She asked, voice clipped.

"Hermione, I'm positive he isn't planning anything." Harry sighed, his gaze unwavering from her eyes.

"Harry.." The bushy haired girl began, but trailed off, words dying on her lips. "..You can't throw yourself so willingly at him." She instead said. Harry bristled:

"I am NOT-"

"Harry. You protected him from a jinx." She snorted dryly.

"I would have done that for anyone!" Harry protested.

"You cuddled him. For a bloody long time too. Do you even know what the Patil twins were whispering? I'd threatened them into silence, of course, but what the hell were you doing?" She scolded.

Harry felt his cheeks burn, and he suddenly felt very defensive of his moment with Draco in the library. It was bloody well nobody else's business, not even 'Mione's.

"That's between me and him." He replied elegantly. "Anyways, important thing is, he's helping me and that's it."

She gave him a long look, and then finally relented, nodding. After that brief conversation, they were heading down to breakfast. Harry found himself feeling very queasy as he entered the Great Hall and his eyes searched out Draco, who seemed to have already been looking his way, and he acknowledged him with a nod, before proceeding to make his way to the Gryffindor table. Not being able to feel literally anything physical wasn't as bad as being deaf or blind, so Harry didn't indulge himself by sitting with Draco this time. He wanted to, if only to see whether the other would mention anything about yesterday, though Harry was 98% sure he wouldn't even dream of it. Instead, he sat with his friends and stumbled through eating, considering half the time he didn't realize he was holding food until someone reminded him. He couldn't help but stare at Draco through most of breakfast, who was staring right back, some unreadable expression on his features.

When it was time to head to class, Harry lingered at the table, eyes still locked with Draco's. He snapped himself out of it soon enough and scrambled to gather his belongings and towing behind his friends, a few paces back. Suddenly, a hand slipped into his and Harry had to stop abruptly. He felt the warm skin, and the fingers wrapping around his palm, sending a shiver through him. He felt the sudden light weight of his clothes, and their soft brushing against his skin. He felt his limbs again, the weight of his schoolbag over his shoulder, everything. Harry's eyes rolled back into his head as he muttered the first things that came to his mind to Draco:

"I feel you." He stopped for a moment, to regain his composure, then kept talking. "I feel everything now actually. Thank you Draco." Harry smiled, and Draco said nothing as he seemed to swallow thickly, and keep up with Harry's pace. The pleasant shivers were still racking through Harry even as they were in class, seated, listening to the lesson. He didn't even realize how much he'd missed touch until he lost it. Then again, it was that way with most things in life. It took a real bad fuck up to realize you're an idiot, and after that..well, depending on the caliber of your mistake, you either wallow in regret or try to fix it. Harry was more a man of action, though he remembered a good few times where he'd just wallowed in regret endlessly, until 'Mione knocked some sense into him.

The rest of the day they didn't speak much, mostly just held hands quietly. It felt oddly peaceful and serene, and Harry couldn't help but feel tranquil. Just holding someone's hand, it was such a simple, touching act. It didn't matter it was Malfoy, perhaps it even made it better. Harry felt jittery the entire day, biting down his incessant grin. At first, Draco had seemed very subdued and shielded, as if he was expecting Harry to lash out at him. However, as it became increasingly obvious Harry was harboring no hard feelings or ill will, he'd managed to relax, and Merlin was it a sight. He was slouching slightly, which at first had looked horrifyingly wrong and crooked on him, but Harry had preferred it infinitely to the tense, sharp, point posture Draco usually had. It looked downright painful. At least this way, Harry knew he wasn't coiled tight as a spring. His hair fell into his eyes more often, looking criminally soft and feathery. Speaking of those fucking eyes. They were soft, round, when not narrowed in a glare, and so incredibly gray. Every shade of gray that existed, and a few flecks of a vivid blue too, Harry had noticed, after prolonged staring. He'd scolded himself for it, but then gone right back to observing Draco. To his credit, the blonde was pretending very well that he didn't notice Harry scrutinizing him. However, after having stared at him so often over years, Harry knew that Draco was well aware of the fact he was being sized-up. He could tell by the constant flushed tint of his ears and cheeks.

The professor in whatever class they were currently sitting in cleared her throat while teaching, which snapped Harry out of his reverie, enough to make him realize what he'd spent the past god-knows-how long doing. And after that, they both promptly acted as if the other didn't exist despite both being bothered by the other's proximity.

Throwing himself in bed that night, Harry just wanted to pass out and forget about his vehemently creepy display of...whatever, today in class towards Draco. Still, despite everything, try as he might, Harry couldn't deny one mere, simple, aggravating fact. Draco fucking Malfoy was absolutely fucking drop-dead gorgeous.

"And I shit you not he stared at me for the better part of the hour. Just..stared. Not a goddamn word!"

Draco moaned into Pansy' shoulder as he still shivered from Harry's intense gaze on him.

"How was he looking at you?" Pansy asked, fingers drumming along Draco's shoulders, as she indulged his little rant.

"Like...like..like he was looking at something..something fucking precious or something. I don't know Pansy! I was half dead by the time he looked away!" Draco whined, his flushed red face buried into her shoulder, waving his arms around like a lunatic. She only smiled and hummed in response. She wasn't good at this. She didn't like anyone, let alone love, like Draco did Potter. She didn't know what was the appropriate thing to say. Still, she listened to him.

"And then when I grabbed his hand on the way to class this morning. His fucking eyes rolled into the back of his head. Oh my fucking God how I didn't drop right then and there I do not know!" He kept whining and Pansy nearly snickered. How she'd wished that they'd just shag already, so that she wouldn't have to listen to Draco's endless horny rants. At the same time, she wished for absolutely nothing to happen between them ever, just so Draco wouldn't be in any type of danger. Of all the fucking people he could have fallen head over heels in love with, of course Draco picked Potter. He lived to make Pansy's life more difficult.

Day 2 of Harry's lack of feeling touch was just as uneventful as the first, except for the painful fact Harry was acutely aware of Draco and his damn good looks the entire day. He needed a distraction, and didn't even realize what he'd been using as one, until he saw that Draco was flushed and huffing out small puffs. He was bent over their desk in class, biting into his lip as small pants escaped him. Harry was momentarily confused, until he looked down at their joined hands and found that his thumb had been dancing over the inside of Draco's wrist for a while now. He was rubbing and drawing little patterns in it, feeling the soft skin, and hadn't even realized he'd been doing it all this time. He immediately stopped, after realizing it seemed to have Draco uncomfortable, and focused on keeping himself in check for the rest of the day. Draco never seemed to quite pull himself from that incident at the start of the day, as he walked around stiffly for the rest of the day. Harry couldn't have been happier when their last class ended, he skipped dinner and rushed up into the dorms, just wishing all of this to be fucking over.

"So, you're telling me, you got off to him rubbing your wrists?"

Blaise asked, quite stunned. Draco blushed and nodded, then shook his head, then sighed, deflating rapidly. He had sensitive wrists, okay? Suddenly, Blaise shoved the inside of his wrists into Draco's lap. He looked up at his dark skinned friend who shrugged:

"Don't knock it till you try it."

Draco rolled his eyes, and did the same thing to Blaise Potter had been driving him absolutely insane with in class. Blaise shuddered once and hastily withdrew his hands, cradling them to his chest. He cleared his throat:

"I see the appeal."

The fact he couldn't speak might've gone completely unnoticed by Harry, who didn't feel like speaking at all that morning. It was only when he tried to wish Hermione a good morning, and nothing but a huft of air rolled out of his throat, that he'd realized what had happened. He rolled his eyes, and signaled to Hermione non-verbally the best he could that today and tomorrow it was speech. She understood well enough and they walked down to the Great Hall together, Hermione holding onto Harry more out of habit than any real need.

"Ron misses you, you know? He says he's sorry he threw the jinx at Malfoy."

Harry shrugged, unable to voice his annoyance. Ron can be sorry all he wants, but he still almost disfigured Draco in a fit of blind rage. Honestly, WHO throws spells they don't know the effects of? Harry's stomach dropped abruptly as he swallowed thickly. Nevermind...

"Harry..what will you do after this is all over?" She continued speaking, though it was obvious she was more so venting, as she knew Harry couldn't interrupt her. "I mean, you won't be able to go back to hating him, obviously, but then what? You can't exactly become friends, can you? I mean, knowing you, you'd probably try to anyways, but knowing Malfoy, he'll reject it the moment it's out of your mouth. And, furthermore, even if he doesn't, how would it work out between you two? His family is on Voldemort's side, and you know he won't just upend his entire family just for a silly friendship with you..." She kept speaking, but by then Harry wasn't listening anymore. Everything she said was true, but Harry just didn't like any of it, so he tuned himself out, clinging her arm tighter as they walked into the Great Hall. Harry felt stared at, at once, and turned his head to look at Draco automatically, who was snarling at something in Harry and Hermione's general direction. He found he wanted to break away from Hermione and go sit with Draco. So, Harry did. He broke away from his friend and gave her an apologetic nod and small wave as he walked up to the Slytherin table. She just nodded back and continued, worried gaze lingering for a mere moment.

Harry took his seat and grabbed Draco's hand, testing his speech by way of polite greeting:

"Hello Malfoy. Zabini. Parkinson." He included everyone in the statement. He didn't call Malfoy by his first name in front of his friends though, having this visceral feeling that wouldn't go over well. Draco was the only one who mumbled a 'hello' back, the other just nodding, surprised he'd bothered.

"In a good mood then Potter?" Zabini spoke, for the first time looking genuinely curious, instead of just completely hostile like that first time Harry had sat with the snakes.

"Yeah. My speech is the last sense I'll be losing." Harry elaborated, not feeling on edge as he ought to feel.

"Doesn't it cycle after that?" Zabini's brows furrowed, and Harry nodded:

"Yeah, but by then it'll be easier to deal with. Besides, Snape should hopefully have the potion soon enough."

Pansy was blinking dumbly at Blaise, as was Draco, though he'd managed to be more discreet about it. If he was honest, Harry was surprised too. He didn't except any Slytherin to be civil with him while he was intruding at their table.

"Huh, what was it Weasley cursed you with again?" Zabini kept the conversation going.

"The Draught of Numbness. Idiot couldn't tell the difference between Moonstone powder and Mandrake root." Harry's nose crinkled.

"That surprises you?" Zabini's lips quirked up into a smirk.

"Not the least little bit. It's a wonder I'm still alive actually." Harry shook his head, and leaned his face into his fist, regarding Zabini's pretty open posture over the rims of his glasses. Hm..

"A true miracle, considering the various stunts you've pulled over the years." Zabini concurred Harry's point, and Harry had to chuckle. He wasn't wrong.

"Say Potter, what with you being the Chosen one and all that, it's obvious quite a few girls oogle over you. As such, I feel like you could give some good advice." Blaise asked out of the blue, steering their conversation in a completely different direction so suddenly, that for a moment all Harry could do was stare at him. When Zabini chuckled, Harry shook his head and smiled tentatively. Right..how to break this to him gently..?

"Uh..Zabini..uhm..I'm not the right person to ask about girls. You can however, ask about blokes. Now, them, I have quite a bit to tell you about."

He grinned, and a few things happened at once. Zabini sputtered for a moment, before he began laughing. Parkinson started choking on her pumpkin juice, and Draco had gone, very, very still. It took Harry a second to realize he was crushing his hand in a vice like grip, but Harry couldn't have cared less, as he began laughing too. When the dark skinned Slytherin seized control over his body again, he spoke through a final bout of giggles:

"I can not believe that is how you come out Potter."

"Hey, it was convenient, alright?" Harry shrugged, chancing a glance at Draco, who was staring at the table quizzically, then at Parkinson, who was staring at the blonde equally as quizzically, then finally back at a grinning Zabini:

"So Potter. I must know. Who's the lucky guy?"

Harry sniggered, then stopped. Ever since he'd learned he was gay last year, he wasn't really interested in anyone, but he felt as if that was different now for some reason. Like there was something...different, pulling him towards..who? Harry rolled his eyes at himself, shying away from the knowledge all the same. Who's the one guy you've constantly been thinking about? Non fucking stop, for as long as you've been here. Who's the one guy who can make you lose your shit in a blind fury, but also somehow manage to be genuinely nice somehow? Who's the pointy fucking bastard which fit so snugly into your arms? And just like that, a loud roar washed over Harry, whizzing past him, his entire face flushing, because really, it had to be Draco. It was always Draco. Everything, everyone, everytime, it's Draco and Harry couldn't even feebly deny it, much as he'd wanted to.

"Still waiting Potter." Zabini tutted while Harry was quite literally having a fucking crisis. He looked at Zabini and didn't know what to answer him. Didn't know whether he should answer him at all. It would be suicide, really, if Zabini told Draco about the mess that is Harry Potter and his weird, out-of-control feelings. Then, Harry sighed, and his eyes wandered to the corner to glance at Draco, who looked to be occupied munching on an apple, however the way his hand slightly trembled, he was listening and Harry knew this. Well, that's just great.

"There's no one Zabini." Harry politely offered, however his flushed face screamed 'liar' from quite a far distance, and both Zabini and Parkinson were picking up on this fact.

"Oh come on, Potter, tell us." Parkinson suddenly chimed in, eyes sparkling. Harry glared at them. HE'S SITTING RIGHT THERE DO YOU REALLY EXPECT ME TO TELL YOU? He hoped they could read his mind. Finally, Pansy cast a silencing charm over the three of them with a roll of her eyes, excluding a frowning Draco. She cast a few reinforcements, just in case, and returned to expectantly staring at Harry. He sighed, and dropped his head on the desk:

"It's Draco." He feebly muttered the sentence into existence, flushing even harder at himself. How could he of let this happen? They couldn't even be friends, let alone something else. Upon not receiving any reaction, he lifted his head up, and they both seemed very pale.

"Are you lot..okay?" He asked, brows furrowing. Parkinson's bottom lip was trembling, and Zabini's right eye was twitching, and honestly they were scaring Harry a little. Then suddenly, Blaise slammed a fist on the table:

"Now that's quite enough!" He hissed, making both Pansy and Harry flinch.

"Zabini what are you-" Harry tried but Blaise dispelled the charm and glared daggers at Draco, who merely glared back, confused.

"You really fucked up now Draco. Merlin help you out of this one." Blaise snapped at Draco, who was only confused further by the crass statement.

"It was one thing when it was just you, now there are other people involved too, and the game just got twice as messy." Pansy whispered frantically, Harry now all but ignored, as he wondered what the hell they were talking about. Draco gave Harry a pointed look, and Harry nodded and quickly stood up, leaving the Great Hall, as he understood Draco wanted to discuss this privately.

"What the fuck are you on about?" The blonde deadpanned his two seething friends.

"He likes you, you idiot! I was fooling around, trying to be polite to him for your sake, only for him to tell us he has a fucking crush on you." Blaise rasped, his throat straining from keeping his voice down.

"It was fine when it was just you, now Potter's feelings are involved too!" Pansy hissed, as if this was somehow Draco's fault.

"Do you realize how much shit this will get you both in?" Blaise asked next, glaring across the table at poor Draco, who hadn't managed to recover past 'he has a fucking crush on you'.

"Whatever you did, whatever happened between the two of you, needs to stop. Cease. Disappear. Disintegrate." Pansy clipped, and all Draco could do was stare at the both of them.

"As soon as Snape gets him that potion, you are ditching all contact. Completely." Blaise ordered.

"I.." Draco finally found his words.

"No. No 'ands' or 'buts'. This can't happen between you two Draco. It just can't no matter how bad you both might want it to." Blaise's voice turned softer now, sympathetic. Pansy just nodded, resting a hand over top of Draco's on the table:

"I'm sorry Draco. As soon as this is done, you're cutting all contact."

Harry wondered what it was Zabini and Parkinson had felt was so urgent they needed to literally shoo him away to discuss it briefly. Then he dismissed those thoughts and took to wandering aimlessly around the school. His newfound, ill-timed realization really didn't do him good. Well, it was a silly crush, it would come to pass, much like other similar crushes he'd had in the past. True, this was his first 'gay crush' but it couldn't be that different from the rest. Of course it was sodding Draco Malfoy. Destiny never failed to get a kick out of punching Harry in the gut. He sobbed through clenched teeth.

Harry had skipped his classes that day, not even bothering to look for Draco again, he just went up into the dorms, to hide away from everything. He had one more day of being speechless to get through, and then everything would go for a jolly little loop. Ugh. How he wished Snape would call him to his dingy little classroom and give him the antidote. Gods, please. Harry was blissfully unconscious when he felt someone shaking him roughly. He cracked his green eyes open, searching for his voice to tell them to piss off when he realized. Oh, right. He sat up, looking at Ron through narrowed eyes. What the fuck did he want?

"You ran off in the middle of breakfast mate...Everything okay?" His friend asked, his freckled face worried. Harry sighed, any anger shimmering out of him. His lips worked frantically, forming frothing words even though he couldn't speak:

'Everything is wrong Ron! Just this morning I realized I have this stupid crush on Malfoy, and I have no fucking clue what to do with myself, or what to do about it. I tried asking him to be friends, but of course he said no, so clearly he doesn't exactly fancy my company. I can't tell him either because I don't have a death wish. On top of that, his stupid enigmatic friends flipped their shit when I told them, so there's something suspicious going on there. Most of all, I'm sick of being unable to speak. Tomorrow will be a fucking nightmare too, and then everything will go on a loop-'

Harry's mouthing was cut short by Ron shaking his head:

"Harry, Harry, I can't understand a thing. Here," He fumbled and pulled out a quill and parchment out of his bag, "Write." Harry accepted the parchment and slumped in his bed. He found his hand shook as he started to write.

I don't know how it happened Ron, but this morning I..I realized I have a crush on Malfoy. Harry forced himself to finish the sentence and observed Ron carefully regard the words, his face devoid of emotion.

"Alright. That's..that's fine mate. You two have been spending more time together, and I suppose he can't be insufferable every waking moment of his life. Besides, I'm not all that surprised. The amount of time you spend focused on him, it would have been a bigger shock if you didn't fancy him."

Harry smiled bashfully at his friend, thank fuck he was accepting of Harry. He really couldn't deal with his more bullshit at this point.

"So I can see why this is quite the predicament." Ron elaborated, and handed Harry back the parchment.

I asked to be friends, but he said no. I can understand. There's too much baggage with the both of us, and I could have left it at that, but now.. Harry wrote, chewing on his lip. He felt kind of pathetic admitting this.

"Yeah.." Ron's ginger hair fell into his eyes as he thought about it. "Obviously, you won't go back to how it was before, however that's not the issue. The issue is moving past this point. Do you think this is just a passing thing?"

I don't know. Harry scribbled.

"Right. The way I see it, you can tell him outright when this is all over."

He'd break my nose. Harry chuckled bitterly.

"Then get hit. It's not like you haven't had your nose broken before Harry. You'd have told him, and wouldn't need to live with it. Or, you can just not say anything and if this isn't a passing thing, suffer in silence." Ron shrugged and waited patiently for Harry to write something.

Neither of those are appealing Ron.

"If you have a better idea, you're welcome to go with it. At the end of the day Harry, you and I both know that Malfoy is deeply integrated in your life, irregardless of whether you feel badly about him or not. How you choose to deal with it will have to be your own decision. And you better make sure whatever you decide, you don't regret, because if there's one thing that'll eat you up Harry, it's regret." Ron spoke, his eyes clear and honest. He patted Harry's shoulder and stood up, Seamus calling him to play chess.

Harry didn't know what to think. He wasn't sure he was even breathing for a few seconds after Ron's words settled in. He wasn't sure how long it had been since he ran from breakfast, or how long he'd been sitting there, staring at nothing after Ron left, but it didn't matter. It didn't fucking matter, because no matter what Harry did, he'd regret it. If he told Draco, he'd humiliate himself completely, but if he didn't tell Draco, he'd also hate himself for it. God knew this was a long-time coming realization, and a delicate one at that. Handling it would have to be done carefully, which is something Harry sucked at doing. He preferred to just throw himself balls first into danger and see where it goes. Bloody Gryffindor he was. And much as he would have liked to just go at this the same way, he couldn't do it. This was different. This was another person in question. Flesh and bone. He couldn't just go dump all of this over Draco's head and expect the blonde to know how to deal with it. That's not how people worked. He needed to really think about this, about what to do meticulously, before ever opening his mouth. Draco had a hefty reputation to his family's name that had to be upheld and untainted, a blind fool could see that much, which is likely why he declined Harry's friendship. Harry, after all, stood against everything Lucius Malfoy stood for. Draco had to be a good son, a respectable Pureblood, and despite Harry not really understanding much on the hierarchy of Pureblood families, he knew that much for certain. Whatever Draco did would be scrutinized, and becoming friends with Harry Potter was certainly not acceptable. Not anymore. When they were 11 it might have been disregarded as kids being kids, now, when they were 16, it was different. Perhaps if Harry presented his friendship as a strategic move, instead of a heartfelt one, Draco might reconsider. As soon as he'd thought about that, he snorted at himself. Draco wasn't stupid, he'd see right through Harry's bullshit.

If Harry couldn't figure out at least a way to be friends, there was no hope for him. He could, of course, just beg Draco into agreeing, but his ego had quite a bit of objection to raise to that. He could talk to Zabini and Parkinson and see what they had to tell him, however he suspected they wouldn't have any kind words for him since this morning's revelation. They'd just tell him the same things he already knew, how it was too risky, how he simply had to let go of it, how he ought to forget it. And partially, Harry knew they had a point. That would be the easy way out, of course, however it felt so cheap. Draco deserved better than to just be given up on. At the same time, pursuing him was equally as unwise. The only glaring issue was Draco's reputation here. Harry couldn't care less what anyone had to say about him. His family was dead, he couldn't bring shame to anyone. The papers have been dragging his name through and through since he was an infant, by now he'd gone completely numb to everything the papers could possibly write. Draco Malfoy, however, had a lot of things expected of him, a lot of assumptions tied to him and his family, though not all good, the Malfoys were well respected in society, which is something not to be toyed with. Harry wouldn't dare play around with things he didn't entirely understand, no matter how annoyingly attractive a certain blonde boy was. And all of that only led him to the conclusion that he'd have to drop this. Give up. There was no possibly way to go around it, unless they kept their friendship a complete secret, but Harry knew better than anyone that the harder you try to conceal something, the sooner it will get out. And then everything would burn up in flames once more.

Harry threw himself back into bed, burying his face into his pillow and groaning soundlessly. A sob came to him, though no sound left him as his shoulders started to shake. Fuck, he hadn't cried since he was 11. He almost didn't want to let himself cry, wanted to tell himself to man up, but he knew there was no stopping the rivulets of tears racing down into the pillow, soaking it thoroughly. He clutched the bedsheets, only further aggravated he couldn't even sob properly. No sound left his heaving throat, much as he wished some would. He didn't hear someone entering the dorm, and he only flinched when a small hand was placed on his shoulder. He looked up to see Hermione, her eyes wet too.

"Harry..Ron told me.." She whispered, and quickly pulled him into a tight hug. He didn't hug her back. In fact, he didn't do anything. Just stared blankly as the last of his tears left him. She pulled back to look at him:

"Oh Harry, how could you let this happen?" It wasn't an accusation, though it sounded like one. He shook his head and looked down into his lap. He felt completely boneless.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione was patient. Harry didn't, but he nodded all the same. He knew she'd bug him until he relented anyways. Ron's parchment and quill were still on the bed next to Harry, so he'd picked them up and wrote to her.

It's probably been happening over so long. I just realized it this morning, when Zabini asked me if I liked anyone like that. He just popped into my mind immediately, I didn't even have to try to think of anyone.

"I see." His frizzy haired friend mused, and Harry kept writing:

I fucked up real bad Mione. Letting this happen..

"Oh Harry, you can't control your feelings. It's not your fault. Are you going to talk to him?"

I don't know. I shouldn't, really, for his sake, but at the same time, I want to.

"How do you know he might not want to talk to you?" Hermione offered weakly, barely believing her own words.

I asked him to be friends already. Long story short, said no.

"Oh..." Hermione's brows furrowed. Something definitely wasn't right here. She was there, she saw how gently Malfoy touched Harry that day in class, how readily he agreed to help him out while Snape made the antidote. It's what made her feel very defensive and suspicious at the very start. No, something was definitely wrong here. "I think there's more to this Harry." She told him finally.

You do? Like what? Harry was giving her a wide-eyed, curious, and worst of all hopeful stare. It made Hermione's chest constrict.

"I don't know, but I'll find out. Just stay here and rest, Merlin knows you need it. I'll come tell you everything once I know more."

Harry was about to complain, but Hermione put him to sleep with a quick spell, and left the boys' dorms. She had to get the answers straight from the horse's mouth.

"Malfoy. A word." Hermione frowned darkly at him as she gripped his shoulder to the point of pain. He looked properly disheveled and dazed, just sitting there blankly at the Great Hall table. Ever since breakfast, he looked so..broken. It was now lunch, and Hermione only squeezed harder, until he winced and stood up, shaking her hand off of him.

"Alright, alright Granger, I'm going, no need to break my shoulder." He sneered, but his heart wasn't it. Being subject to the trademarked Malfoy sneer for many years now, the girl could tell a real from a fake one. She promptly turned on her heel and marched him out of the Great Hall, and backed him into a small corridor, her forearm pressing against his chest, keeping him pinned to the wall. She knew he could wrestle her away if he really wanted to, but she also knew he would never mandhandle a girl, so she opted for this as the best option to keep him there until he'd spilled the truth.

"We need to have a chat." She said, calm and composed.

"About?" He snicked. She reigned in her eyeroll.

"Harry." Hermione informed, noting how he seemed suddenly interested. "What happened between the two of you Malfoy?" She asked, voice gentler than she would have ever expected she'd use on him.

"How does that concern you at all?" He snipped, his arms pressed firmly to his sides, just like she'd expected.

"It bloody well does when Harry had just spent the past half an hour sobbing in his bed over you!" She suddenly snapped, his snooty tone of voice draining her of patience rapidly.

"He did?" There it was. The moment of weakness, she'd been waiting for. The slip up. Malfoy's eyes swimming suddenly. Now, they could talk. "Why?" He asked, voice barely above a whisper. He knew he shouldn't have asked, yet..

"I won't tell you until you answer my question." She laid the bait, and she knew he'd bite. He sighed suddenly:

"Nothing happened between us Granger. Nothing..significant.." He seemed to bite the last word out.

"Liar. Harry wouldn't tell me, but you will, or so help me!" Hermione needed to compose herself, but her worry for her best friend was getting to her. She knew there was more to this, and by Gods she would drag it out of Malfoy. One way or another. She pressed into him harder and his mouth twitched.

"Granger for Merlin's sake get a grip! I'll tell you!" He hissed, and Hermione swallowed her triumphant smile. She, however, did not let up her pressure. Clicking her tounge impatiently, she had him start.

And Draco did. He told her everything. From when he'd first accepted to help Harry, to the cuddling, to Harry asking to be friends, to him declining, to now. She listened dutifully, slowly, her hold on him letting up, until she was merely resting her forearm against him. There was not a trace of judgment, or any sort of malice in her eyes, contrary to what Draco had expected from her.

"Why did you agree to help him Malfoy?" She asked when he was done. Hermione knew he was biting his tongue when it came to that question, but she hoped he'd tell her now, when the air was much less hostile.

"I.." Draco almost told her. Almost. "I won't tell you that Granger." He said instead. She shook her head:

"This is important Malfoy. Swallow your pride for once in your damn life."

"This has got absolutely nothing to do with my pride, Granger." He defended.

"Then what does it have something to with Malfoy?" She looked up into his eyes, exasperated by now. She could see he was on the verge of a decision, and she just hoped he'd just fucking say it. If she didn't know why Malfoy got himself into this, how could she know what to do further?

"I..he..I.." He stumbled over his words suddenly, averting his eyes. "I'm..he's..because I.." His sentence broke off. Hermione stared at him patiently, waiting for him to muck through his explanation. He sucked in a shrewd breath through his teeth, and collected himself before continuing to speak:

"I don't hate him." He said. "I don't fucking hate him alright?" He repeated, voice more shrill now, eyes still not looking at Hermione. It wasn't long before the lights clicked on inside, and she gasped:

"Malfoy are you saying that you-?" She felt something snap inside her. Of course.

"Yes Granger! Are you satisfied now?" He snapped, flushing. Draco pondered on whether or not to ask what he wanted to, but Hermione could sense the question before he'd spoken it.

"Harry was crying because he doesn't know what to do about you after this. He doesn't want to go back to how angry and bleak it was before, but you refused to be friends, so he doesn't know where that leaves you two." She spoke, carefully wording the sentences so that she wouldn't lie, but not quite out Harry either.

Draco drew in a shuddering breath, and worked hard to school his expression, though it was failing miserably.

"Right. He doesn't want to put a blemish on your reputation, but also doesn't want to quite give up." Hermione said honestly, for the first time looking away from him. Jesus, Harry, must you always get ears deep in trouble?

"And you expect me to do what, exactly, about this?" Draco finally asked, his voice crude, despite what he'd confessed to her a moment earlier.

"Tell me what the hell were you planning on doing after this is over?" She asked and he shrugged noncommittally:

"I was planning on cutting all contact with Potter. I don't need to make this harder on myself or him beyond what is necessary."

Hermione snarled:

"And yet you agreed to help him in the first place! If you were really planning on doing that you wouldn't have gotten involved in the first place. Stop bullshitting Malfoy, I promise you it's not getting you anywhere."

He flinched at her tone. Bastard.

"I wasn't planning anything special after Granger." He said again, swallowing. He crossed his arms over his chest, in a feeble attempt to put a barrier between them, she was still standing very close, keeping him pinned to the wall so he wouldn't run.

"Were you hoping to fix things between you two in this time then?" She suddenly asked, and Draco felt himself burning with embarrassment. He didn't know what was worse, the fact that had been his exact reason, or the fact he was admitting that to Granger:

"...Yes." He whispered, looking over the top of her head somewhere.

"Well you did a bloody good job of it then Malfoy, because Harry has forgiven you everything and then some." She deflated. "I thought you were playing at something malicious you know. Harry kept defending you. Convincing me you didn't have ulterior motives. He still isn't talking to Ron because he almost jinxed you with that Stinging jinx. He didn't tell me anything about anything you two did, out of respect for your privacy I can only assume. He really wanted to mend your fucked up relationship, and you declined." Hermione was nearly in tears, and if Malfoy's pale, horror stricken face was anything to go by, he was somewhere around there too.

"I had to decline Granger! There was no other option!" He hissed through gnashed teeth. "I wouldn't expect you to understand-" An insult was at the end of the sentence, but the girl cut in:

"I understand Malfoy. Harry understands too. Reputation. Voldemort. Family." She prattled off the reasons, then bit her lip, considering what to say next. What else was there to say? It seemed nothing could be done. It seemed so..hopeless. She thought that after Malfoy told her everything she wanted to know, a solution would magically come to her. But it didn't. Perhaps it was because Malfoy had told her the most unexpected thing of all. And, if it was true, then they both would have to grow a pair and take a fucking risk because a safe solution to this situation did not exist.

"You love him, don't you Malfoy?" She whispered. Draco screwed his eyes shut tight and shivered. Bloody hell.

"Yes.." He croaked, barely forcing the word out.

"Then you'll have to take a risk for it. Both of you." She asserted, though she knew the price was one Draco might not be willing to pay. "I know the stakes are high for you especially. But Malfoy, if you really, truly want Harry, you'll have to take that risk. There is no other way. You'll have to make that decision for yourself, aware of the consequences. And, if it blows up, you'll both have to deal with it best you can. Harry won't do anything, he's resigned himself to pining from afar, because he doesn't want to smear your name somehow. It's up to you now. You make the final choice in this. You either risk it or don't, but whatever you choose to do, make sure you'll be able to live with it." Hermione lingered for a moment, observing his rocked expression for a second longer, before turning on her heel and heading in the direction of Gryffindor.

"Harry, are you awake?" The girl muttered when she walked to his bed and sat down on it, only to find him blinking at the ceiling. He sat up and adjusted his glasses, jerking his head at her in a motion that spoke 'well?'

"I talked to him." Hermione spoke, flinching at how eager Harry was to hear what Draco said. "Well I tried. He didn't tell me much though. Didn't want to speak to me at all in fact." She lied, feeling horrible about it, however it wasn't her place. Harry shrunk like a squished bug when told the news, and Hermione's heart stammered. He nodded at her nonetheless, and smiled weakly, before laying down in bed and turning away from her. She left the dorm, a tear slipping down her cheek. He wore his heart on his sleeve, so readily forgiving and trying to fix and help everything. It nearly always ended up with him getting hurt though, which Hermione hated so much.

"What did Granger want?" Blaise asked when Draco returned to the table.

"Her? Oh nothing important." Draco ran a hand through his hair. His chest ached from how hard his heart had been hammering through the entirety of his conversation with Granger.

"If it isn't important, surely you can tell us?" Pansy asked, brows furrowed.

"Just wanted to preach to me about Potter." Draco followed up, placing food in his mouth, though he didn't feel the taste at all. He mechanically chewed and swallowed, and repeated.

"What did she say Draco?" Blaise prodded some more. Draco was growing irritated, just leave me alone will you?

"Honestly, Blaise, I didn't even listen to half the things she'd said. She was griping something about why I would help him and what I wanted and such shit. Let me eat in peace." He replied calmly, keeping the haughty look to him, hoping his friends would buy into the act. If they had, he didn't know, because they said nothing for the rest of lunch. After lunch, Draco just dragged himself along until dinner was through, unwilling to participate in pretty much anything.

The second day of Harry's speechlessness, he sulked in his room the entire day, skipping classes and meals, just about done and drained with absolutely everything. No matter how much his friends begged, threatened, coaxed, they couldn't get him out of bed. Eventually they'd all given up on the pursuit, even Hermione, and went without him. Hermione's stomach was coiling painfully since she woke up. She just had such a grim feeling about everything. Walking into the Great Hall, her eyes locked with Draco's and she only sadly shook her head at his raised eyebrow. He turned away, and back to whatever his friends were telling him, but his leg had started bouncing under the table.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Draco paced the bathroom he'd holed himself up in, in a blind attempt to get away from his friends for just a second, just a second so he could think. Currently, he was incessantly panicking. Harry didn't come down to breakfast, or class, or lunch. Granger let him know as much, but he didn't let himself believe the idiot was that shaken up when she told him that yesterday, until this very moment. He had to choose. Choose between his family, his pride, his name, and this stupid fucking boy he was head over heels in love with. He never before thought he was really afforded a choice, until Granger laid it out so simply for him. You choose whether you'll risk it or not, she'd said. Whatever you choose, make sure you'll be able to live with it, she'd said. As if it were that easy. As if he would ever forgive himself for not making a move on Harry. As if he would ever get his family back if it were found out. What was that Muggle saying? Can't have your cake and eat it too? He kept pacing in the small bathroom, infuriated how it was so simple yet not at the same time. Lose everything for Harry, or lose Harry for everything?

The blonde cursed under his breath, a merry string of expletives. He nearly tore his own hair out from running his fingers through it and tugging on it, hating how it all came to this one choice. This one fucking choice that had the power to make or break him. Never in his life would he have seen himself in this situation. He knew his father wouldn't accept his son being gay, let alone gay for Harry fucking Potter. He knew he'd be shunned at best and completely disowned at worst. He knew he'd lose his inheritance. He knew his mother's heart would be shattered. He knew that Harry couldn't help him in that situation anyways, because he didn't understand anything about blood purity. Famous as he was, not even Harry Potter could meddle with Lucius Malfoy. He knew he'd lose his friends, who also wouldn't be permitted to associate with him anymore. At least overtly. He knew he'd lose all touch with his family, because they couldn't associate with him. He knew he'd be disgrace, a taint in the Malfoy bloodline. He'd likely be burned right off of the family tree.

He also knew that having Harry was the first real thing he'd ever wanted for himself since he was 11. He knew that the stupid idiot would be nothing if not loving. He knew he wanted to be loved above all else. He knew he had his chance now, what with Harry telling Blaise and Pansy he felt the same. He knew that he'd be kicking himself for the rest of his life if he didn't do this. What would he get out of one and what out of the other? His family was headed down a dark path, and they were in too deep to turn back, and much as they'd tried to hide it from Draco, he'd known. When the Dark Lord started appearing in the Manor more and more often, he'd known. They would only drag him down too. He couldn't just abandon them though. He couldn't turn his back on his family. If he chose to pursue Harry, he'd be turning his back on them, but saving himself.

"Fuck!" Draco cursed outloud, anguished. Then a sob escaped him, and he was immensely relieved he'd had the foresight to lock and silence the bathroom when he came in. He sank to his knees on the floor, and sobbed into his hands. Draco's shoulders shook as he wailed hopelessly. This wasn't fucking fair. It wasn't fair. His heart felt as heavy as stone, his hair disheveled from all the stress put on it. Wiping his eyes as more tears came, he felt as if he was falling apart on the fucking bathroom floor. Like something was tearing him from the inside out, ripping him apart at the seams. Tearing and tearing until there's nothing left.

Harry wished Draco was there with him, holding his hand and chatting about literally anything. Harry would love to listen to him, instead of lay awake dejected and in a constant loop of crying, and falling into restless naps, and then waking up after having dreamt of a different world where he and Draco were friends, maybe more if he dared, and crying again. What the fuck was wrong with him? Yesterday he finds out he has a crush on this guy, today he's crying over it? Pathetic. Harry shook his head at himself. It was so much easier before. Fucking before. Of course it was easier before. What did you expect? You know your life had to be thrown for a loop. It always is. Harry scolded himself, wiping his nose with his sleeve, and turning in his bed once more, trying to get comfortable.

After he had stopped crying, Draco felt oddly calm. Perhaps it was because he'd made peace with his decision. At one, crucial moment, the anchor fell, and he'd made his choice.

Harry estimated it was around dinner time right about now, when he heard stomping, frantic footsteps rush up to his dorm. He sat up and put his glasses on his nose, staring at Ron who burst through the door frantically gasping for breath while attempting to formulate a sentence all at once:

"Snape! Potion! Early! COME!" He screeched between large gulps of air, and Harry was on his feet in the next second, rushing past Ron and down through the common room, his heart thundering in his mouth. He blindly ran, pushing past everyone, until he was out of the common room, where he was startled to notice Hermione and Draco waiting, looking just as antsy. One look at Draco and Harry's heart sunk. He looked like absolute hell! His eyes were red, puffy, his hair a complete tangled mess, his clothes rumpled, he was paler than usual. What in the fuck had happened to him?

However, in the moment he had no time to ponder that as they all broke into a run towards Snape's classroom. Harry was there first, stumbling through the door like a baboon, nearly falling face first. He regained his balance and stopped, his friends clearing in after him. Snape regarded them with a passive look, and then stood.

"Hello. As it seems, I've managed to complete the antidote much sooner than I'd originally anticipated. With great relief, I would like end this charade." He gave a pointed glare to Ron. "Take a seat , ." They obeyed and sat next to each other. "Link hands." Snape ordered next, and they both immediately listened, Harry nearly sighing at the shiver that went up his arm when it was in Draco's again.

"You can speak now, is that correct ?" Snape affirmed as he ladled some concoction into a vial.

"Yes, sir." Harry nodded as Snape handed him the small glass vial of a black potion.

"Drink all of this, and do not let go of Malfoy's hand." The Potions Master instructed, and Harry nodded, before throwing the disgusting tasting potion back. After he'd swallowed every drop, he turned to look at his teacher once more, waiting. Snape seemed to be mentally counting and then he spoke once more:

"Now, let go of his hand, and say something."

Harry did as told, and swallowed the lump in his throat, suddenly lost for words after being unable to say them for two days.

"Thank you professor." He lamely mumbled and Snape only heaved a sigh:

"Yes, yes. I would advise you not to let this happen again however. You're dismissed."

Everyone stood and left the classroom, Draco walking a pace behind Harry and the Weasel, while Granger walked by his side. She kept glancing at him from the corner of her eyes and eventually, Draco grew irritated:

"Yes, Granger?" He snipped politely.

"Do you know what you want to do Malfoy?" She softly asked, paying no heed to his antics.

"I know what I want to do, but also I know what I will do. Those are, unfortunately, two different things Granger." He replied, and Hermione felt her heart sink. If she was reading into those words correctly, then...

"What do you mean?" She forced herself to ask. Draco's lips quirked in the barest of smiles:

"What I want to do is run away, hide and possibly throw up. What Iwill do is this." He drew in another sharp breath and tapped Harry's shoulder. As the boy turned, Draco grabbed his shoulder and pulled him closer, pressing them flush together.

"Draco?" Harry whispered.

That was all the time Draco gave himself to hesitate, then leaned down and pressed his lips to Harry's. For all of 3 seconds Harry was pliant, almost boneless in Draco's arms, but then he tentatively responded, kissing back through a soft sigh. Harry's arms came up to wrap around Draco's neck as Draco's own tightened around Harry's waist. They kept kissing and kissing, both feeling as if they were going to burst if they stopped, like the world would just fucking end if their lips separated. And, it would. Their world would.

Quite an awkward sputtering cough gently separated them. Opening their eyes again to look at each other, they saw all the answers to their questions, all the uncertainties, everything melting away beneath the warmth of their gazes, locked together. A laugh bubbled in Harry's chest, and he couldn't help it, starting to laugh heartily, helplessly, never breaking eye contact with Draco, who was on the verge of bursting into giggles as well, holding himself together for a whole of 1 more second, before starting to chuckle. He actually kissed Harry. He actually kissed Harry. He'd dreamt of it quite a few times, but nothing could match up to the reality. Not even fucking close. They were still entwined, when yet another sputtering cough drew their attention away from each other and to Ron. Surprisingly enough, he was smiling gently:

"So Malfoy grew a pair huh?" He chortled, causing Draco to unwittingly hide his face in Harry's hair and mutter at Weasley to 'shut the fuck up before I hex your pubes black'. Harry was still laughing, smiling so wide he thought his face would split. Draco had actually kissed him, all within a day of Harry learning he liked the git. How lucky was he for once? He traced little circles in the back of Draco's neck with his thumbs, still not quite there.

"That wasn't so hard now was it?" Hermione nipped from where she was grinning off to the side. Then, quite unexpectedly, Zabini and Parkinson made their way into the corridor, approaching casually, until they saw that Draco had his face buried in Potter's hair, arms wrapped around him, while Potter had his arms around Draco's neck, smiling like a goddamn fool. They approached with haste then, and glanced at Weasley and Granger for explanation, who both just shrugged.

"Draco what the fuck have you done?" Pansy beseeched, her voice void of malice. Draco slowly looked up from Harry's hair, and gave her a half-shrug, smiling still:

"What do you think?" He mumbled.

"Oh my god he snogged Potter. He finally fucking snogged Potter! Pansy, can you believe it?" Blaise snorted, giving the two a wary glance, before giving in and grinning himself. Despite all the dangers, he was damn happy his friend was happy. Draco wasn't a kid anymore anyways. He knew what he was risking, so why the hell would Blaise be worried?

"Took you fucking long enough." Pansy reprimanded him, shaking her head, her hair falling to cover her grin. As long as Draco knew what he was doing, she couldn't care less who he was snogging. She wanted to keep him safe yes, but she knew she couldn't dictate him even if he was doing something monumentally idiotic, like she'd tried to do not too long ago. "What you're doing is extremely dumb."

"I know." Draco sighed dreamily, not really even looking at her, more so looking completely through her.

"And dangerous."

"I know." He murmured.

"And crazy."

"I know."

"Are you even listening?" She snapped.

"I'm sorry what? Did you say something?" Draco's eyes met his friend's and she threw her arms up, tutting:

"Oh my god, of course he'd be strung out after one snog."

Harry, who had been staying uncharacteristically quiet up until then, finally spoke, dropping his arms from Draco's neck:

"If you think he's high, you should see me. I can barely fucking stand."

"Such a hero wow." Blaise rolled his eyes, unable to school himself into being scalding. Harry shrugged, and looked back into Draco's beautiful gray eyes, smiling again:

"I love you."

Fin.