Beta'd by: Bombadilo Baby. Reads everything last minute without fail. What a champion. Thank you!

Soooo. . . . I can't be bothered to write a proper introduction for this chapter. So just: READ ON! :-D

As always I'd love to hear any reviews! Plus fav's/follows make my day.

A Zippity Weekend to You All!

-G

Also heads up. . . there's possibly a little increased number of brackets this week. . . I felt like brackets :-D

Harry smiled shakily at his Godfather, with an awkward-jerky wave, before they all trod back out of his Godfather's office. Harry's thoughts all circling nervously around how angry Severus might be once they had a chance to talk properly about last night.

It wasn't until the door clicked shut behind them that he felt some of the tension, he hadn't known he'd been carrying, ease up around his chest.

Vince sighed, rubbing his face wearily. "My Pa's going to be so mad." He moaned.

Draco froze in horror suddenly realising something important.

Everyone turned to him curiously, then with growing alarm as they took in his expression.

Draco moaned loudly. "There's no way I'm getting a broom for my birthday, now." His shoulders slumped heavily. ". . . . bollocks." He cursed under his breath.

Chapter 20: The Night of Samhain

Days passed quickly at Hogwarts. And, though the first year Slytherin's had all been rather subdued, thoroughly chastised after the stern discussions they'd later had with their parents, Samhain celebrations and the feast were mere hours away. Though the muggleborn's still insisted on calling it Halloween.

Naturally, the student population of Hogwarts was practically buzzing with excitement.

With the except of one, Harry Potter.

As the date had trickled closer, the small raven-haired boy grew steadily withdrawn from his friends and class. His smile less bright and his eyes holding a dull sheen. Whilst all his Slytherin year mates noticed, it was Draco who grew more and more concerned with each passing day.

Worried grey eyes would track his friend throughout the day, and the Malfoy heir regularly attempted to draw the green eyed boy into their conversations. His moments of success were becoming less frequent. After a couple of days the rest of the group had tentatively decided to give Harry some space, and petered-off urging him to join in with their usual activities. They reasoned that Harry would talk with them when he felt like it, and pushing him to do so would only be annoying.

As the days turned into weeks, and only Draco was left trying to engage Harry's attention, the blonde's concern was gradually tinted with his own unmistakable pang of hurt in his chest. Though he tried valiantly to hide it, and appear as though it didn't affect him, Harry's dismissal upset him greatly. He simply couldn't figure out why his best friend had suddenly decided to close off from them all, barre the occasional of one word reply.

Several days ago, in a fit of desperation, Draco had even sought out his Godfather. Unfortunately the timing of this decision could not have been worse. The blonde happened upon the Potion's Master just after a fifth year student had caused a huge disaster, destroying most of his classroom. Severus had, in a moment of agitated distraction (whilst hurrying to salvage whatever ingredients he could), snapped at Draco; instructing him to sort out whatever 'ridiculous, trivial quarrels' they'd started on their own, or barring that, with the assistance of a Prefect.

Draco had stared after his departing Godfather with hurt grey eyes, before wandering quietly back to the Slytherin Common Room, still clueless how to help his friend. He had briefly considered writing his Mother, begging for her advice. But, when it came down to it, he always hesitated to actually put ink to parchment. Several times now he's ended up biting his lip before sighing and packing the items away.

If Draco were being honest with himself, he missed Harry…. quite a lot. He missed their whispered conversations (that always seemed to run late into the night) whilst they lay together bundled on Draco's bed. He missed their loud, boisterous games of exploding snap with the rest of their friends whilst they sat on the rug near the open fireplace in the Common Room. He missed the hidden notes in History class, and the thankful glances in Transfiguration when he whispered advice. He missed conversations down long corridors on the way to class. The way Harry (who was always far too spritely in the mornings) would sometimes plonk a (perfect, perfect) cup of tea before him at the breakfast table, on the days he was too busy yawning and grouching to do it himself yet.

He missed everything. But, if he were honest, there was only one activity that sent a sharp ache to his chest whenever Harry silently, mildly, declined, leaving Draco on his own:

Cloud Watching.

He wasn't sure how, but at some point it had become their tradition. Harry's love of the Manor garden had quickly morphed into them spending as much of their free time as possible outdoors. Draco would lead him around as they explored the hundreds of nooks and crannies of their expansive grounds. And, by the end of their explorations, they would flop on the ground. Content to lie themselves on any comfortable, dry, patch of grass.

Sometimes they'd spend hours just watching the sky (Draco had, of course, quickly realised the necessity of sun protection for his fair skin when spending time with Harry), making a game of finding obscure and odd shapes in the clouds. Eventually, when they trekked back indoors they would share wide smiles at Dobby and Dotty's dismay (upon seeing the numerous grass and dirt stains, and occasionally torn clothing) before apologising politely to the house elves.

And from there, the habit had easily transitioned into their new school routine upon arriving at Hogwarts.

Often times the group of first year Slytherins could be found lounging out of doors. Blaise would, naturally, sleep; though occasionally he'd read or write letters to his mother. Pansy and Daphne would either study or gossip animatedly. Greg and Vince would play Gob Stones or challenge each other to a stone skipping contest across the Black Lake.

And Harry and Draco would lie there. Heads together, arms waving erratically (or languidly depending on their moods) as they either pointed or described their most recent cloud-find. Content smiles on their faces and sun-warmed cheeks, the scent of pine trees drifting across the grounds from the forest.

It was on a slightly raised patch of grass that the group settled on now. Classes had just finished for the day, and they had a hour or two before the Samhain celebrations began in the Great Hall. Deciding to pass the time outside while it was still light and fairly warm, they'd bundled down the stone stepped entrance, the sound of Pansy and Vince's excitement audible in a large circumference around them. They were, obviously, discussing the feast tonight.

Draco tagged slightly behind, choosing to walk beside a silent Harry, flicking quite obvious and hesitant glances towards his reserved friend.

Upon arriving at their familiar spot everyone began getting comfortable in their favourite locations, chatting excitedly amongst themselves. Draco started to sit down in their own personal cloud-watching spot when he noticed Harry still standing, staring blankly out towards the Forbidden Forest.

He lowered himself to the ground, then (oh, so hesitantly) reached out, daring to tug gently on Harry's hand. Harry's green eyes blinked slowly in surprise, turning down to glance at Draco, eyes still somewhat unfocused.

Draco unconsciously bit his lip nervously, then tugged slightly on Harry's hand again, urging him silently to join him there on the grass.

The was a long moment, in which Draco's chest squeezed tight, then Harry's hand slipped out of his and the raven haired boy turned, sitting cross legged (and facing away from Draco. Facing towards the forest, and not him) and slightly apart from the group.

Draco's heart froze, shuddering, and his hand held in the air for a moment, before he slowly lowered it down to the ground, twisting his fingers in the long green grass.

His shoulder's hunched and he sat there alone on the grass, the sound of the others conversation washing over him like a distant breeze. A hand briefly clasped on his shoulder startled him out of his frozen state, and he turned jerkily towards the person. Pansy's worried blue eyes looked back at him, silently checking to make sure he was okay.

Draco pushed down the (stupid) tears that wanted to crop up now in response to her concern, and with shaky legs he got up and joined the others in their conversation.

And if his grey eyes frequently turned back to look at the unruly head of black hair, fluttering in the breeze just a few metres away, everyone else was kind enough not to bring it up. At least for now.

…...

"Draco, this is getting ridiculous!" Pansy huffed as they walked up the steps towards the Great Hall. "We have to say something! . . . I think one of us should try and talk to Professor Snape about it again." She confessed, bitting her lip anxiously. Vince nodded in agreement, whilst Blaise stared contemplatively ahead, not contributing his opinion at this point.

Draco didn't reply, though his heart clenched painfully as he thought of his raven haired friend, he just continued walking beside the worried girl.

Harry wasn't coming.

They'd all gone back to their dormitories to get dressed for the feast when Harry had walked silently away from the group, slipping out the common room door. Draco's grey eyes had frozen on the closing entrance behind him, unable to help but notice that Harry had turned the wrong direction to get to the Great Hall.

Harry wasn't coming.

They walked through the large doors into the already crowded Hall. The space was unnervingly lit, illuminated solely by the flickering orange glow of candles, many residing in disturbingly carved pumpkins. The suits of armour lining the sides of the Hall gleamed in the darkness, reflecting the light like mirrors, and the house tables were laden with piles upon piles of lavish food, plus offerings for the dead.

The small group quickly looked around, eyes searching for a head of dark hair and green eyes. Their hope was quickly knocked down when they were unable to find their missing member. Silently, they walked towards the Slytherin table, slipping onto their usual seats.

Several of the older years turned with raised eyebrows towards the group, though none in their group saw their pensive glances as they noticed the missing Potter heir, or how they deliberately remained silent about his absence.

It was Daphne who first broke the silence. ". . . he might still be coming." She said quietly.

Draco stared at his empty cup of elderflower cordial, chest constricted.

"He's not." The words slipped from the blonde's mouth. It was the night of Samhain, the anniversary of the Potter's death, and Harry had made it all too clear over the last week that he didn't want the company of his friends.

Draco's fingers tightened around the apple he was holding, avoiding Blaise's knowing and slightly sympathetic glance. He knew that if Harry wanted space, on this night of any, that he should give it without question. He was probably being selfish, wanting Harry to talk to him, or seek reassurance with his presence. But something in his gut was still niggling at him, saying that something was wrong. He wondered if it had anything to do with the last couple of nights, when he'd seen-

"TROLL!" the frantic word echoed around the suddenly silent hall. "IN THE DUNGEON! Troll, in the Dungeon!" it was Professor Quirrel, his unmistakable purple turban unusually loose around his head. "though you ought to know…" his voice petered out, before he collapsed on the ground in a dead feint.

Draco's froze, blood turning to ice. There was half a second pause before the Hall erupted in screams and turmoil. Draco was barely conscious of his actions as he slid swiftly out of his chair, darting through the crowds of terrified children out the opened doors. He only became aware of several other sets of feet when he was half way down the corridor, headed towards the dungeons.

He paused briefly, turning wide eyes on his friends. "What are you doing?!" he yelled in panic. "Go back! Find Severus. Tell him I've gone to find Harry. He's still down there!" Draco told them, terrified that he would be too late, and Harry would be alone and unprepared. Down in the dungeons with a troll.

Pansy hesitated, before catching eyes with Daphne. The two girls nodded resolutely.

"Alright. But don't you dare do anything stupid Draco Lucius Malfoy!" Pansy ordered, voice wobbling as both girls pulled Greg and Vince back towards the Great Hall. Draco's eyes slid to Blaise who'd remained behind.

Blaise crossed his arms. "There's no way in hell I'm going to let you pelt down there alone." He warned.

Draco jiggled impatiently on his feet, casting desperate glances down the corridor. "Alright! Fine!" he conceded, before taking off again, Blaise alongside him.

The castle darkened as they ventured deeper into its depths. They got redirected by one of the moving staircases, only a couple of levels down, to an unfamiliar hallway. They continued running along, seeing a familiar passageway up ahead, when Draco caught sight of a familiar figure from the corner of his eye.

"Harry!" Draco cried, relief swamping him as he burst through the slightly open doorway into a mostly empty room.

Draco saw Harry jump in surprise, almost crashing into a nearby mirror.

"…Draco?" Harry said dazedly. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at the feast?" he asked in confusion, his voice slow like syrup.

Draco ran forward, grabbing Harry's hand quickly, and tried to pull him from the room.

"We need to get out of here, Harry!" he exclaimed, panic returning. "Come on!" he urged, tugging on Harry.

Harry barely moved from where he stood. "…What?" he asked, green eyes dull. Draco couldn't help but note how bad the bags under Harry's eyes had become. "No. Wait, Draco. I'm not going to the Feast. I'm staying here, alright." He said, gaze darting back to the mirror behind him, as he tried to pull his hand from Draco's.

"There's a troll loose, Harry! It's in the dungeon's!" Draco hurriedly explained, clasping desperately at his friends hand, trying to pull him forward. "We need to leave!"

Blaise called impatiently from the door. "Oy! You two, hurry it up! Professor Snape's going to be furious when he finds us gone!"

". . . A troll?" Harry asked in disbelief, finally stumbling forward as he allowed himself to be yanked by Draco.

Draco pulled him from the room hurriedly, darting nervous glances down the empty hallway.

Unsure what else to do for now, Draco and Blaise ushered Harry back the way they'd come towards the Great Hall. They were just pelting round a corner, about half way back, when they suddenly froze in place, hit with a blast of putrid stench.

They trembled where they stood, mere feet away from the troll towering above them.