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I don't own 'Harry Potter'

"Ow!"

Harry hissed in pain, tensing as his shoulder hit the cold stone wall. He'd always thought the school provided comfort but the feeling of home had dissipated further and further over the years.

From being the supposed 'Heir of Slytherin' to being an attention-seeking psychopath, he'd found his safety net slowly vanishing the older he got. Sure his friends tried to help, but what did they know? Hermione liked to shove facts at him and lecture him, but she was so hard-headed sometimes. She had no idea what it was like being deprived of basic necessities, let alone love.

Ron's family had struggled growing up but at least he'd been compensated by love. He didn't understand what it meant to be so fundamentally unwanted. Harry knew he was completely unwanted; his home life was enough proof of that.

Ever since he'd been introduced to magic it seemed he was never normal enough. He was famous, his parents were heroes, he had 'exciting' adventures ... Personally he thought people were stupid; what sort of child actually wanted to end up nearly being killed at eleven?

Not that anyone ever believed him, and this year showed it more than ever. Cedric was dead - murdered - and they thought he was making up facts for fame? That he would lie about Voldemort for publicity?

The 'detentions' were just the icing on the cake. As if it wasn't enough to know everyone thought he was lying, now that stupid toad was having him carve words on his hand.

I must not tell lies.

He hated it. He hated that he was in this position, but he wasn't going to disrespect Cedric's death by keeping quiet. Hermione didn't get it. She hadn't seen the light fade out his eyes. She hadn't had to carry his body out the graveyard. She didn't feel guilty.

He felt guilty, and miserable he never got the chance to tell the other boy how he felt.

He felt like crap, but the emotions were being blurred out by the blinding pain in his hand. Umbridge had kept him for five hours this time and he was starting to feel dizzy. He'd just stumbled into the wall and he was blinking rapidly. Anaemia, his mind supplied. He'd lost too much blood, he was going to -

"POTTER!"

He opened his eyes, blinking into awareness before shooting up in panic. He had no idea where he was but he knew it was past curfew. Damn it! If I get caught I'll end up with another detention. He flexed his hands before realising the pain was gone. Looking down he noticed his hand was wrapped in neat bandages, and he could feel a cooling sensation underneath.

"You're lucky, you know."

Harry jumped a mile, not having realised he had company. His hand went to his wand and he grabbed it as his eyes found the room's other occupant, though it relaxed when he realised who it was.

Blaise Zabini.

Contrary to popular opinion Harry didn't actually hate Slytherins. He hated Malfoy and his two gorillas because they were bullies like Dudley, but he'd always judged the rest of the snakes personally. In his mind anyway. God knows Ron would have a fit for him being a 'traitor' otherwise. Harry thought it was stupid - he knew what it was like to be judged by others.

Zabini was actually fair and Harry had always admired his quiet confidence. He'd also admired his appearance as well but he would never say anything. A Slytherin would never go for a lion for one, and there was also the fact that Zabini had enough admirers.

"Zabini."

Dark brown eyes surveyed him before the Italian boy walked towards Harry. Zabini sat on the low table across from the sofa Harry was on and gently took the Gryffindor's hand.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

The Italian boy's hand was warm, and he could feel a blush trying to cover his cheeks as he felt a thumb gently stroke his wrist. For some reason he didn't want to lie to his classmate.

"There's no point. People only see what they want to when it comes to me. They don't see Harry, they see The-Boy-Who-Lived."

Zabini raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you really think? That nobody sees Harry?"

Harry blinked. "This is my fifth year, you know. It is how it is."

"Is it?"

Before he could reply, his personal space was invaded and a warm pair of lips were covering his. They were a little dry, and forceful, and utterly bewildering.

It was amazing.

He pushed back hesitantly, letting himself fall into the kiss. In that moment he wasn't an attention-seeking brat. He wasn't a lying psycho. He wasn't a traitorous Gryffindor kissing an 'evil' Slytherin. He was Harry, and Harry was really grateful he hadn't reciprocated Cho's hopeful gestures out of guilt.

The Slytherin pulled back, an actual smile on his face as opposed to the 'pure-blood' smirk.

"I've seen Harry for a long time."

Harry exhaled deeply. "Can I tell you something?"

Blaise smiled. "I want to hear everything."

Harry believed him.

A/N: Hello!

Personally, I think Blaise - and most of Slytherin - were so undeveloped in canon, and it's kind of ridiculous that a quarter of the entire school gets written off as 'evil' at eleven, but that's just me.

Let me know what you think :)