A/N: I'd like to thank theghostinside for being brilliant and helping me out a lot with this chapter (like I probably said a hundred times before, I really appreciate it), as well as all the people who are so nice to actually put this to their alerts. You make my day, all of you (:

It took him a week to gather up the courage and visit his former schoolmate again.

After all, just because their last encounter had gone well, it didn't mean that the next one would too, and he didn't want to lose this new… bond he had established with the other so soon.

In the end it had been Ginny whose words had driven him there again.

She had noticed his returning restlessness, and had asked him to tell her the reason for it. Of course, he hadn't been able to, but when he told her, she just looked at him thoughtfully. 'It's just so strange, because last week there was a time when you looked so much more relaxed…much happier. I thought you had finally found a way to deal with everything that happened last year.'

With that, she had returned to massaging his shoulders, not knowing what uproar she had caused in her boyfriend's mind. When he thought back, he could see what she had been talking about: Over the last few days, the tension had reappeared, but before that, he really had felt better.

And the only thing which had caused it had been his visit at Malfoy Manor.

Which had brought him back here, standing at the front door, heart beating against his chest. Just as wanted to leave again, feeling both relieved and disappointed at the same time, the door opened, revealing a weary looking Draco Malfoy.

'What do you wa- Oh', he stared at his visitor, obviously startled, 'I'm sorry; I didn't expect it to be you.'

'I figured', came the reply. For a second, they stared at each other, unsure what to do, before Harry tentatively held out his hand.

Surprised, the other looked at him before slowly shaking it.

The fair-haired boy led him inside, but past the salon they had been sitting in last time. When he attempted to step inside, his host just looked at him with an unreadable expression and said, 'If you don't mind, I'd rather not go in there.'

'Why? Last time…'

'Last time', the former Death-eater spoke, 'I hoped you'd feel it too, and leave sooner.'

'Feel what?'

'Let's just say that a few things happened in there which were rather…unpleasant.'

'What happened?', Harry asked, unwilling to let this go, and when the other didn't answered added a soft, 'Draco?'

Surprised, the blonde looked at him.

'I like it when you use my first name', he stated simply.

The brunet felt blood rising to his cheek and obviously completely failed fighting it down, since the other asked teasingly, 'My, my, have I really made the great Harry Potter blush?'

'Shut up', he mumbled awkwardly while following the ex Slytherin, 'Anyway, you haven't answered my question…Draco', he added almost as an afterthought.

'You're not going to stop until I answer, are you?', he asked mildly annoyed, 'But just so you know, you're not going to get me to do everything you want, just because you use my name.'

Harry smiled; they were going to see about that.

The other ran a hand through his hair and sighed, 'I really have to do this, right?'

The Boy Who Lived Twice nodded.

'You're not going to like it, I warn you.'

Another nod. He had figured that much.

'And you still want to hear it.'

'Yes.'

'Somehow I knew that'd be the answer', he sighed before continuing, 'As you surely know, before you defeated the Dark Lord, he was residing…here.'

Yet another nod followed the short pause.

'If he wasn't happy with your behaviour or you failed with a task he set, then he…well, punished you.' He looked away, refusing to look the other in the eye.

In the meantime, Harry had figured out that the blonde was saying exactly what he had feared he would.

'Voldemort…he tortured you in there.'

'No shit, Potter', he sneered at his guest, the old mask of hate and disgust miraculously in place again, 'You have always astonished me with your intelligence.' However, a second later he slumped again.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. It's just…I don't like talking about it. '

Anger had surged up within the brunet as he listened to the other's story. If hadn't already killed the dark wizard, he would've done it again.

'What did he do?', he asked through gritted teeth, since, although he knew thinking about it was hurting the other, he had to know.

Draco let out a humourless laugh, 'Do you really think I remember all the times he used the Cruciatus curse on me? Merlin, I'm glad, I've forgotten about most of them. Anyway, control your hero complex; believe me, it's not as charming as you think.'

All of the times… The words echoed in the raven-haired boy's mind. If the knowledge that the blonde had been tortured once had made him angry, the revelation that it had actually happened numerous times made him downright furious.

He clenched his fists to stop them from shaking.

'What's wrong, Potter?', the blonde asked when noticing the lack of response he got from his visitor. Looking at his shaking hands, he stared at the brunet, eyes wide with shock, 'Did just this really make you so angry?'

'Just this?', the other fumed, 'What do you mean by just this? He tortured you! Of course I'm angry!'

'And what gives you the right to be? If I may remind you, we're not exactly friends.'

There was a glint in the fair-haired boy's eyes, which reminded Harry of the times at school, when they were fighting and one of them was close to hexing the other.

'What has that got to do with it? It's not my bloody fault that I, unlike you, care about other people.' He knew, he shouldn't have lashed out on the other, if the reason for his fury was someone completely different, but he just made it so easy.

Draco stared at him for a second, eyes full of confusion, before muttering, 'You care about me?'

'Obviously!'
'I…I never knew.'

'I…', the Boy Who Lived Twice stopped, thinking, 'Me neither, actually.'

Both fell into silence, before the former Death-eater spoke once more, 'Well, Potter-'

'Would you… would you maybe call me by my first name too?' When he saw the other's surprised face he added, 'The people I care about usually call me Harry.'

Slowly, very slowly, a small smile spread across the fair-haired boy's face. 'I suppose this answers my question.'

'What question?'

'The one I wanted to ask, before you so rudely interrupted me', Draco answered.

'And what was it?'
'I wanted to know, where all of this secret-sharing does leave us…', he paused, thinking, 'Although I still do not consider us friends…yet.'

His eyes twinkled and Harry couldn't help but smile.

Over the next three weeks, the black-haired wizard spent more and more time at Malfoy Manor, slowly strengthening the bond he had formed with Draco. The other male seemed more relaxed there days, he thought and surprisingly, he felt himself relax while being around his former nemesis as well. Feeling the memory of his hatred vanish so easily and without leaving a trace was startling, to say at least. More than once he'd thought back to what the former Death-eater had done, but not one of his actions was able to revive the grudge he had borne for the other so long. If remembering all the insults and fights, he now only saw a young boy, who admired his father enough to believe everything he said, when thinking of his once-broken nose someone who needed to prove his hatred to himself.

Not even the memory of Dumbledore's death and how Draco had let the other Death-eaters into Hogwarts did provoke any wrath; he knew the fair-haired boy had been pushed into his role by fear, not by real sympathy for the Dark Lord.

Most of their afternoons they didn't even talk, just sat next to each other, thinking in amicable silence. However, when they did, it was different than with his other friends, surprisingly easy even.

Suddenly it was fine to speak about how, without a constant danger, his life felt empty or that something between him, Ron and Hermione had gone missing when the two of them finally got together.

The blonde listened to all he had to say, without interrupting or generally speaking, but when looking at him, Harry just knew the other actually cared.

Still, Draco barely told him about himself, which left the brunet wondering if he didn't trust him, or if he just waited for the right moment. It hurt, though, especially the first thought.

So, one day, as they were wandering around the gardens, wrapped tightly into their cloaks, the raven-haired wizard asked.

'Don't you trust me?'

The other looked at him curiously, 'Why are you asking me this?'

Harry shrugged, 'You just never tell me anything about you. I've told you things I wouldn't even consider speaking about with my girlfriend, while the most personal thing you said in the past was who you went out to have a drink with or what book you finished reading.'

'That might be because you, as far as I know, do not really talk a lot with her.'

The Boy Who Lived Twice narrowed his eyes, 'You're avoiding the question.'

'Fine', the blonde held up his hands in defeat, glaring at him, 'What shall I speak about?'

'I don't know', he answered, 'That's the whole point of it, really. Just…tell me something about yourself. But something you wouldn't want everyone to know', he added as an afterthought, fearing he'd get stuck with another story about novels.

The other looked thoughtful for a moment, then, obviously having decided, took a deep breath before starting to speak.

'I do trust you, Harry, and it's scaring me.'

The first thing the brunet noticed was not, in fact, the confession of trust but the fact that the other one used his first name.

Not that he'd kept watch, but now, looking back, he became aware that the ex-Slytherin had completely avoided using any of his names for the past weeks. He wondered why, since it had been him who dropped the surname first.

And then, quite suddenly, his brain registered what else Draco had said.

He did trust him.

A warmth filled the raven-haired wizard's heart, which momentarily drowned every trouble he had had with the world in the last months.

However, something about the statement had felt wrong.

'Why does it scare you?'

The blonde looked at him incredulously, 'I do not trust people. I don't. Trust is something for Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs, but nothing for a Malfoy.'

When the other wizard looked at him unbelievingly, he added, 'Honestly, I don't think I've ever trusted anyone apart from my family.'

Suddenly, Harry felt breathless. Of course, he had known that the other's trust was something special, but he hadn't realized how special.

'Do you understand now why it's a terrifying thought that I'd willingly tell you my secrets, after only three weeks? I don't even want to know what'd happen if we'd become friends one day.'

Like always, it hurt a little when the former Death-eater reminded him that they were nothing more than acquaintances, but he pushed the feeling aside.

'It might be a good thing, though', the brunet uttered after a second had passed, expecting his host to sneer and tell him how these things were obviously completely horrible. While the fair-haired wizard was slowly losing his weariness, he was regaining his sarcasm and pride. Harry figured it was worth it, though.

However, the sneer never came.

'Do you trust me, then?'

'What?', the raven-haired boy spluttered.

'You've heard me perfectly well. It's only fair if you've got to tell me something about you, too.'

Somewhere inside there had to be a part of him, who didn't want to admit it, who fought against it, so it took the Golden Boy just a bit too long to answer, 'Yes.'

The ex-Slytherin raised an eyebrow and looked at him emotionless, 'I don't believe you.'

'What?', muttered the other one in shock. He definitely hadn't expected this.

'I don't believe you.' His voice was cold, only a hint of anger, of hurt betrayed that he was indeed feeling anything, 'Not that I could blame you, I wouldn't trust me either, and you have even less reason to. Now, if you could leave, I do not think we've got anything more to discuss.'

'But-', Harry started desperately.

'Goodbye', and he turned on his heels, leaving the brunet wondering how he had manage to screw everything up once again.