Over the past month, Harry and Malfoy had developed some sort of routine. Malfoy showered at night, steam floating up to the starry sky, while Harry would shower the next morning, the cold water streaming down his body. Harry got the Astronomy tower in the mornings, Malfoy got it first break, Harry second break. When Harry got the Astronomy tower after the last class of the day, Malfoy had it that evening, vice versa. They switched every other day. But of course they still fought, they wouldn't be Harry and Malfoy otherwise.

They had another secretive routine too, as Malfoy would stare at the brunet, observing his features and thinking treacherous thoughts. As Harry would shake and twitch because of nightmares, Malfoy would feel the urge to rock him awake and tell him, "It's just a nightmare. Just breath, in and out. It's just a nightmare," but of course he would force himself to just fall asleep instead.

And Harry would stare at the blond in the early morning, wondering why he was doing so. The sharp angles and the illuminating skin entranced Harry. Malfoy would twitch and shudder in his sleep, and Harry always wondered if it was nightmares of Malfoy somehow magically sensing Harry staring at him. Then he would force himself up, and take a cold shower to wake himself up. When he would walk back into the room, the Slytherin was either still asleep or gone, never in-between.

Harry would then go to the tower, pass his roommate's name on the entrance, and just look out and mourn. The Gryffindor would also wonder what Malfoy did when he was up here, and wonder what he was doing right now.

Then he'd travel to breakfast, always a little late, search for Malfoy, and when he found him, he'd finally sit down with Ron and Hermione and eat breakfast. Harry always ate two treacle tarts and had pumpkin juice, the same thing everyday. Malfoy would eat a pumpkin scone and have a coffee, always three sugar cubes. Then he'd go to his classes, some with Ron and Hermione, some with Malfoy. His days were so repetitive, you'd think he'd get sick of it, but he almost never did. It was nice to have a routine, compared to before, when it was just crazy and random.

Until one day, when he arrived at breakfast, and Malfoy wasn't there, quietly humming to himself while he drank his coffee. Harry panicked.

Where was Malfoy? Why wasn't he here? Did he purposely want to mess up Harry's day?

Harry's mind thought another thought he didn't want to think, Is he okay? I hope he is...

Harry then noticed that he was standing at the door, a couple people staring him curiously. He quickly scampered to the Gryffindor table, glancing at the Slytherin table every few seconds. The brunet couldn't even eat his breakfast.

Breakfast finished quickly, but classes took forever. Today was the day he had Advanced Potions, which he shared with Malfoy. Advanced Potions only occurred once a week, so it was therefore longer then any of the other classes. During the entire lesson, Harry stared at Malfoy's empty seat, unable to concentrate on the potion he was supposed to be making.

"Harry?" Slughorn said at the end of the lesson, "It's okay my boy, we all have bad days," nodding to Harry's empty cauldron, devoid of any potion ingredient, "Full marks!"

Harry was unable to scowl at his special treatment, as he was still distracted by Malfoy's absence. "Thanks," he muttered to Slughorn, before sprinting out of the classroom when Slughorn yelled "Class dismissed!"

He sprinted to their shared dorm, "Lolly!" raced past the portrait.

"MANNERS ARE ALWAYS NICE!"

He threw open the door, and glared throughout the room. Some of Malfoy's things were gone. Did he run away? Was he ordered to leave at once and was only able to take a few things? Was he taken?

Harry was mad with impossible ideas, but he main question was, where was Malfoy?

Shit, thought Harry, Arithmancy is about to begin. Harry then had to sprint to the other side of the castle to get to class on time. Great, this was another class he shared with the Slytherin (and Hermione).

Harry was yet again unable to concentrate, although in this class he normally never did, so it didn't really matter.

Why was Malfoy's disappearance bothering him so much? Harry assumed it was because Malfoy was a huge part of his routine. Maybe routine was a side effect of depression? Like the routine had to be followed or he'd go crazy? Honestly Harry didn't know. Where was Malfoy? Harry wondered if Malfoy was plotting something, he probably was, the Slytherin was always plotting something.

Maybe that's why he was gone, because he was plotting to kill Harry? The only thing Harry knew for sure was that he ached for Malfoy's insults. In a world of uncertainty and insanity, Malfoy's bulling was the only thing Harry could constantly rely on. Malfoy would always be there to laugh at him when he screwed up, and Malfoy would always be there to piss him off. Now that he wasn't there, Harry felt empty. He thought he normally felt empty, but with out the snarky blond's presence, He felt like a bottomless pit.

Even Hermione seemed to notice something was worse, as she constantly pestered him with "Harry? You okay?" and "I can just do it if you want me to," and pity.

"I'm fine," or "It's okay," he would reply, unable to saying anything more then two word answers.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

Instead of going to the Astronomy tower as he normally would do (because it reminded him of Malfoy), Harry went and grabbed his broom.

He hadn't flown in forever. Just gripping his broom felt so right. Harry launched himself into the air, zooming vertically as fast as he could, relishing in the wind pushing into his face. His eyes burned and he could barely breath and it was amazing. When he finally paused, he seemed to be miles above the Hogwarts castle.

Harry stared out, observing the swirling towers and the magical look of Hogwarts; he looked at the forbidden forest, with it's towering dark trees, that looked minuscule from where he was. He had nearly died there several time, and then did die there. Then Harry looked up and beyond, at the cloudy blue sky. The clouds were puffy and gorgeous, and Harry had a childish impulse to fly up to them and see if he could stand on one of them. Harry stared up at the sky till he felt dizzy, and even after.

Suddenly he dived, surprising even himself. He went straight down, falling not flying. Screaming and laughing with exhilaration, Harry felt adrenaline run through his body like acid. It was amazing. Everything was going so fast, it wasn't blurry, it just seemed to not exist. The ground was approaching rapidly, but still Harry didn't pull up. He just continued to dive and dive, until he was a foot from the ground. He then suddenly jerked up, ignoring the screams of the people watching him.

Flying straight up again, Harry was unable to feel the same rush, and his mind went back to Malfoy. Where was he? Harry reached a spot even higher then where he was before. He could barely even see the people below, they looked like dots. Looking back up at the sky, he had the most insane idea he probably had ever had, which is saying a lot. Harry stood up on his broom, spreading his arms out for balance.

He was standing thousands of feet in the air. And it was amazing. Harry turned slowly around on his broom, looking out at the sky and the forest surrounding the castle. It was beautiful.

What would happen if he slipped? Or jumped? He would fall and fall until he crashed into the ground, most probably breaking every bone in his body. Why did that option sound so promising?

No. He couldn't do that to Hermione and Ron, and to whomever would find his body. Hell, he couldn't do that to Malfoy. He wouldn't jump.

The Gryffindor continued to stare out at the forest, the sun softly warming his face. He never noticed a certain blond staring at him from the Astronomy tower.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

That night, in the dorm room, Harry was unable to fall asleep. He kept staring over at the empty bed next to his. After having become so used to the presence of the snobby Slytherin, not having him there was weird and uncomfortable.

Harry woke up early the next morning. He must had have fallen asleep from pure exhaustion, as he could barely keep his eyes open. Forcing himself to take a shower, Harry ached for a blade.

No. He wouldn't.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

The rest of the day was pure torture, much like yesterday. During breakfast and his classes, he couldn't help but to stare at where Malfoy should be, but wasn't. He felt much like the empty spaces.

Harry tried to distract himself by playing exploding snap with Ron after classes ended, but was unable to. "Wondering about Malfoy?" Ron asked suddenly.

Harry's head jerked up, "What?"

"Well it's bloody obvious, you've been more mopey then usual since yesterday. And that's when he disappeared."

"Do you know what happened?"

"His mum was killed by some radical Death Eater hater, or something," Ron replied, "Read about it in the paper."

But Harry was already gone, his mind distracted by thoughts of Malfoy's mother, and how she saved his life. "Now he only has one parent," Harry thought allowed.

"No. Zero," Ron sighed, "His dad killed himself instead of getting the dementor's kiss."

Oh, Merlin. Harry hadn't received any newspapers over the summer, wanting to block himself completely from society. Now Malfoy was an orphan, like him. Harry needed to do something to help. He didn't know what, but he needed to do something.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

The next day, Malfoy was back, and the routine was in order. But at breakfast, Malfoy didn't eat his pumpkin scone and he didn't drink his coffee with three sugar cubes, in fact he didn't eat anything at all. Malfoy didn't argue with Harry, they had no fights, and didn't even bicker, instead it was just stoney silence.

Harry hated it.

He had thought that Malfoy was the one thing he could rely on. Guess not.

He needed to do something, he needed to make it normal again. So he devised a plan.

The break when he was supposed to go the tower, he instead went to the kitchens, and asked the elves to make him pumpkin scones.

"Yes Master!" They all called, except for Kreacher who muttered "Filthy Blood traitor."

Harry took the basket of pumpkin scones, and put his note in it. He then raced up to the astronomy tower, and left the basket right where he knew Draco sat.

When Harry walked back to the common rooms, he faintly heard the sound of a string instrument. It sounded just a bit lower then a violin, but then again Harry knew nothing about music. But he did know it was beautiful.

Stopping to listen, he felt as if the person playing should professionally play, as it was so enchanting and emotional. Still, he continued on his way.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

Later that night, Draco walked up to the Astronomy tower, trying not to think about his mother. He paused when he saw a basket sitting in the exact spot he always sat.

He creeped up on the basket, wondering if it was booby trapped. After all, a Death Eater hater had killed his mother. He opened the basket slowly, relaxing when he saw it was only pumpkin scones.

There was a note on top, and Draco began to read it.

The handwriting was messy, but still legible:

Dear Malfoy,

I don't really know why I'm writing you a note, I mean I could had just left the basket with no note... but... I don't know. Anyway, I'm so sorry about your mother. I never knew my parents, but I still know how it feels. When I was going into the woods, to you know, my parents were with me, and when they had to leave, it destroyed me. I can't explain to how they were there with me however, sorry. I just want to let you that I'm here for you. I guess? Sorry, I'm really bad at this.
Anyway, I know what its like to be an orphan, and I know how people are going to pity you, and I know how much pity sucks. I don't pity you by the way. I think your situation sucks, but I don't pity you.

Please eat these scones. I've noticed you haven't eaten at all since what happened. Eat. Besides, a Malfoy looking starving? What would your mother say? You'd be a disgrace. Just eat Malfoy. If I'm right, you're probably a little teary right now, although you'd never admit it. And now you're rolling your eyes. Now you're stopping yourself from rolling your eyes. Now you're brushing your hand through your hair in a further attempt to not roll your eyes. Speaking of your hair, I like it better with no gel, it's much more adult like, and I have no idea why I said that. Please ignore the previous sentence.

Anyway, EAT THE FUCKING SCONES MALFOY.

DO IT.

Harry (Which was crossed out) Potter

Draco clutched the letter to his chest, laughing tearfully. His father was dead. His mother was dead. Harry fucking Potter was writing him letters and giving him baskets of his favourite scones. Harry fucking Potter was commenting on his hair and noticing his eating habits. Harry fucking Potter was worried about him.

And he was hopelessly in love with Harry fucking Potter.

/*/*/*/*/*/*