Disclaimer: JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.
Rated: M for language and some sexual situations.
Warnings: There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.

Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.

Thankyou to everyone who has reviewed so far! ^^ It means a lot, so thanks =)

During the next fortnight, Harry discretely tailed Malfoy whenever possible; the task made much easier now that they shared a room, and the fact that Harry had an invisibility cloak, plus previous experience of following the blond boy; he knew how his mind worked and could correctly predict patterns in the boy's behaviour along with his movements with almost disconcerting accuracy. At any other time, Harry might have been worried that he knew Malfoy in the depth that he did; but he was too absorbed in the task at hand; frequently staring over at the boy during mealtimes; observing his every move and leaving Hermione and Ron to their own devices to follow Malfoy in his free periods, almost disappointed when they would always end up either by the lake, during which times Malfoy would stare forlornly out at the rippling, liquid surface, or in the owlery; and in both locations, Malfoy was never greeted by anyone else. What he did notice, however, was that any attempts at friendly, or at least polite, conversation Malfoy had tried to instigate between the two of them previously, had stopped altogether. In fact, the boys rarely spoke to each other at all. It was like living with a stranger; not his closest rival, Harry mused.

Eventually, after tailing Malfoy almost non-stop for a little over three weeks, it clicked at breakfast time as Harry sat observing him sitting once more alone and poking dejectedly at a bowl of cereal. He confronted the sullen boy that same evening as they were both readying themselves for bed.

"You don't have any friends."

Malfoy looked up at him sharply. "I beg your pardon?"

Harry looked the other straight in the eye and repeated himself: "You don't have any friends, Malfoy. And I don't think you ever did." He said, voicing earlier suspicions he'd had about his rival. "You had cronies and admirers you commanded respect from because of your family's name and reputation. But now your credibility's gone; so have the people you surrounded yourself with."

The blond across the room stiffened, almost in resignation as his grey eyes narrowed. "I don't need your pity, Potter. I've done perfectly well alone before now; I can manage one more ridiculous year."

"Can you? You've always had some support. Can you really handle being totally alone? Because I don't think you can."

"Shut up Potter! You know nothing about me! How did you come across this idiotic information you think you have on me anyway? Have you been stalking me?"

Harry blinked, slightly taken aback by Malfoy's reaction. Apparently he had touched a nerve.

Malfoy took Harry's silence as conformation that his accusation hadn't been unfounded, and snapped. "FUCK Potter! Just because I made some feeble attempt at gaining your friendship previously does not mean you can go gathering information and hounding me as you please! I'll have you know that it wasn't even my idea to try and befriend you in the first place." Malfoy stormed angrily over to the desk he had claimed as his own in their room and pulled out a letter, thrusting it in Harry's face. "It was all Mother's idea to have me become your newest lapdog and help regain some of the Malfoy name's respect! But you know what?"

Harry's fists had balled the minute he had learned that he was once again just some tool in another person's plan. "What? Fucking what Malfoy?" He glared.

"I couldn't do it. I couldn't just use the 'Chosen One' in a ploy to salvage the last shred of respect my family has. Because I'd rather be fucking friendless – like apparently I've always been according to you, Potter – than go back to the person I was." Draco stared at Harry, panting a little after his outburst, his cheeks tinged with pink. "Are you happy now?"

Harry merely blinked slowly at the angry blond before taking a breath and speaking in a calm voice. "Is that it? One false confession of having changed, and you think I'll suddenly forgive you and be best buddies? You think I'm that stupid? You always have been a slimy git and you always will be, Malfoy." Harry turned on his heel; seriously contemplating sleeping somewhere else for the night, but failing to think of anywhere, he climbed into his four-poster and shut the drapes harshly with a wave of his wand, leaving Draco standing alone in the room with his mouth slightly open in shock.

"Fine," He said as he flopped elegantly into his own bed. "Fucking fine."

The next few days were as awkward as ever between the two, as each tried their best to avoid the other. It became an unspoken rule that the first to wake would clear out of the room as soon as possible so the boys did not have to prepare for the day ahead in each other's company. Oddly enough, this was nearly always Draco, and although Harry never considered himself a particularly early riser, the blond was well known not to be a morning person; frequently never gracing the Great Hall with his presence until at least halfway through the morning meal for the past seven years. The same rule applied in the evenings; they would both stay out as late as they could, and whoever arrived back in the room first would ready themselves for bed as quickly as possible before the other arrived. Again, it was usually Draco who stayed out the latest and Harry might have been suspicious had he not already known Draco was not up to something. In the end, it was Ron who came up with a satisfactory, albeit childish conclusion, that Draco was "probably afraid of his pillow."

However, it seemed that this new development was having the opposite effect on Harry than it should have done. Instead of making it easier to pretend that Draco didn't exist; Harry now felt compelled to talk about him more than ever to Ron and Hermione. During Harry's second rant that lunchtime, Hermione gave an annoyed sigh. "Harry. Not that listening to you bitch about Malfoy isn't entertaining," She raised a sarcastic eyebrow at him, "But, do you have a point? It seems as though you're just ranting about Malfoy as an excuse to talk about him." She looked at him quizzically.

Harry flushed because deep down, a part of him knew that was exactly what he was doing. "I'm just saying Hermione, how does he expect me to believe he's changed? After all he did? After what he tried to do. I don't appreciate being manipulated for other's uses, you know that."

"Maybe because he has changed?"

"Oh really? And how do you know that?" Harry asked, irritated that she appeared to be taking Draco's side over his.

"Because he helped Parvati and I when we were at Hogwarts last year." Lavender Brown had leaned over and invited herself into the trio's discussion. She was joined a few moments later by Neville and Parvati herself, who nodded in agreement to Lavender's statement. "It's true," She said, looking over at Harry, "The number of times we ran into him when we were running from the Carrows, or one of the other Death Eaters. He always hid us in secret passageways or rooms behind statues or paintings."

Lavender added in her thoughts on the matter; "He was never gracious about it, and he never stayed behind to make sure we were alright, but he never let us get caught. It was almost like he didn't want to see anyone get hurt more than they had to." She smiled a small smile at Harry, "I really think he has changed, Harry."

Neville leaned closer. "He did stop the Carrows using the Cruciatus Curse on me once."

Harry looked up at him, startled. "He what?"

Neville nodded. "He did. Admittedly he told them not to waste their efforts on the idiot son of blood traitors, but I think it was just an act to get them to stop. It worked though." Neville shrugged as he looked at Harry. "I think he really has changed."

Harry sighed and laid his head on the table, reluctantly thinking through the new evidence his fellow Gryffindors had brought to light. He couldn't deny that Draco helping anybody had to be a sign that he had changed a little. But if he'd helped people escape Death Eaters… Something clicked in his brain. "Hang on, suppose he did help you lot earlier… That doesn't change the fact he still tried to use me to boost his family's reputation again." He crossed his arms triumphantly; proud of himself that he had found the loophole in Draco's plan to regain credibility by convincing everyone he'd 'changed'.

Hermione raised an eyebrow once more. "But you said he only did that because his mother asked him to. You said that he'd told you he didn't want to go back to being who he was before; that he couldn't just use people like he used to."

Harry scowled at her. Ron smirked a little at him. "Checkmate, mate." Harry threw him a dirty look for good measure. "You hated him too, you know."

"Yeah, but I'm willing to bet that the git's changed. Anyway, if we start spending more time with him, we'll have more opportunity to rub it in that he still does what 'Mummy' tells him too." Ron laughed as Hermione threw him a scandalised look, and he pecked her cheek.

Harry rolled his eyes, but was unable to stop the light grin spreading across his features. "I guess this means I have to apologise to him now, right?" He asked in a tone of resignation.

Hermione nodded seriously. "I think you should Harry." While Ron snorted with laughter. "Rather you than me mate." He said with a grin at Harry's fate. Harry groaned.