Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N This chapter is probably not what many were hoping for as in Draco tells Harry what they once were... that is going to be reserved for something much better now that I've got a little help on the plot. Of course... poor Draco will really be suffering here >. I'll have to bake him a little cake when it's all over! Oh yes, I'm sorry for the cliffhanger but I could not resist ;) Thanks to lovemehatemejustdon'tfearme, Silvas, water my blood fire my spirit, Silverness, BlackPadfoot, volleypickle16, saphirefox, julbug, AmethystAquamarine, ura-hd, ATadObssesive, badluck-ngprod, chaeli.meep. For reveiewing, I'm glad you like this story :)

Harry took a minute to regain his thoughts, remembering that he'd come to pummel Malfoy for getting him into detention. Only, Malfoy didn't look like the slimy prat he'd always thought he was.

"Potter, what the hell do you want," Malfoy demanded again, getting up and picking up his robes, hastily wiping his hand over his cheeks to dry his tears and shoving his robes over his head to hide the scars he hoped Harry had not seen.

Harry looked at Malfoy and got the image of a rope being around that pale neck, which oddly enough looked very much thinner then he'd remembered. He'd imagined this scenario in his mind before, but it was odd he thought of it right now after seeing Malfoy look like this.

He couldn't explain but he knew he'd seen a rope around Malfoy's neck before. "I don't know why I'm here…" Harry said, examining Malfoy with his gaze. He really was thinner then he had ever seen him

"Oh you don't, do you?" Malfoy sneered, glaring at Harry as he took up a stance in front of Harry, crossing his arms around his chest. To some this could have been intimidating, but not to Harry.

Harry stood up straight in front of him, regaining his earlier beliefs that Malfoy had done something to him. The blind rage had been replaced by a sense of sympathy brought on by Malfoy's tears.

'I was coming here to ask him what he did to me, wasn't I?' Harry reminded himself, and his confidence came back to him swiftly enough to eye Malfoy right in his gray eyes. "What did you do to me on the pitch?" Harry demanded stubbornly, his voice taking a harsher tone.

Malfoy only looked at Harry in confusion and his eyebrows rose in a disbelieving fashion. "Are you still on about that, you idiot? Leave me the hell alone, you've done enough already."

Harry really didn't think that was fair, he and Malfoy always fought with fists so it wasn't like he'd done anything to Malfoy that Malfoy hadn't already done to him. Harry moved in front of the entrance to the balcony, blocking Malfoy's escape route.

Malfoy groaned and stomped his foot, Harry thought he even saw a bit of desperation flash through Malfoy's face. "I didn't do anything to you on that damn pitch, Potter. Don't you get that! Now let me go!" Malfoy exclaimed forcefully.

Harry frowned and loosened up his muscles that had been standing stiff while he blocked the entrance to the balcony. The moonlight still shone over their heads but it didn't make Malfoy look soft anymore. "You didn't?" Harry asked as his face screwed up in confusion.

Malfoy would have gloated about it and confessed eventually so he could have another one of his 'brilliant' moments in attempting to make Harry's life a living hell, so the fact that Malfoy was looking apprehensive made Harry wonder if Malfoy had done something to him on the pitch to make him lose.

"No, I didn't," Malfoy confirmed. Harry was still blocking the entrance, but he was lost in his own thought enough not to realize the impatient blonde youth who was standing in front of him.

'What happened, then? Something did but if it wasn't Malfoy who did something to distract me what was it?' Harry kept asking himself.

Malfoy cleared his throat, bringing Harry back into the real world and breaking the silence. "Potty, as much as I'd absolutely love to stay and chat I want to get out of the cold. Now, move out of the way," Malfoy quipped.

"Do you always have to be so rude?" Harry growled out, but he moved out of Malfoy's way. Draco sent Harry a glare that Harry felt told him to 'go to hell and rot,' but he wasn't about to do that.

"Yes I do, Potter," Malfoy stated; saying less then he wanted to say. Harry rolled his bright green eyes and let Malfoy pass him.

"You don't have to be, Malfoy."

Malfoy stopped his stride right beside Harry in the entranceway, turning around to face Harry angrily. Harry thought it was somewhat suffocating to be so close to Malfoy, but he only looked right into Malfoy's eyes.

"Potter, you're fucking insane. You've got to be to think that after all you put me through I'd even consider being nice to you," Malfoy spat with such venom and raw anger that Harry almost shivered in spite of himself.

But the words also made him defensive. Malfoy had been the one to taunt him for six years without much of a cause, how could he even think of placing the blame on Harry for their constant fights?

"After all I put you through? What about what you put me through, Malfoy? I put up with you picking fights for six years; I never picked a fight with you, Malfoy, not once. So how about you tell me what I put you through because the way I see it, I did nothing to you," Harry ground out through clenched teeth.

Malfoy only seemed to get more pissed off, his eyes widening up dangerously that it could be mistaken for surprise. "Nothing! You did nothing? You call the way you've been treating me for the past month nothing?" Malfoy cried out, his voice getting higher pitched with every word.

"I have not treated you any differently for the past six years Malfoy." Harry said, wondering how he could have treated Malfoy any differently from his usually treatment.

"You bastard, you—" Malfoy started to say before he stopped, as if something hit him and made him think, and look at Harry with a calculating stare. "Have you been under any spells lately, Potter?" Malfoy asked, his anger calming down a notch and turning into chagrin.

Harry was caught off guard by the question. Yes, he had been under a spell, in a way, for the past month. His hesitation was enough for Malfoy to get an idea of the answer. Malfoy suddenly looked like he was mentally kicking himself from the upset expression on his face.

"I'm a fucking idiot," Malfoy whispered, and started to move away from Harry.

'Oh shit, it looks like he's going to start crying again!' Harry thought to himself as Malfoy started to move away from him and into the barely lit staircase of the South Tower.

Harry didn't know exactly what to say or how to react. This brought up a new question to his mind of why Malfoy was acting so peculiar. "Malfoy, where are you going?" Harry called after him but Malfoy didn't answer him as he started to descend down the stairs and out of Harry's view.

Harry started to follow Malfoy down into the staircase and down the winding steps, calling after the blonde again. "Malfoy, wait!"

Malfoy stopped but didn't look back at Harry, and he was only a few feet away from Malfoy when he stopped behind him as well. "What do you want, Potter?" The way Malfoy spoke sounded like he was trying to keep his voice from breaking, and Harry thought fast.

He wanted to tell Malfoy for some strange reason why he was under a spell. It was disconcerting to see Malfoy look so broken. "I haven't been able to remember much from the past year."

"What do you mean?" Malfoy asked. Harry could hear a sniffle that Malfoy tried to stifle and Harry felt worse. He didn't understand why Malfoy was so upset but he wanted to.

Malfoy was still standing there on the step but his posture was slightly crooked, and the light from the burning torches created a dance of glowing orange lights across the two boys. It was eerie in a way.

"I mean I can't remember the past year because I got hit with a spell that messed with my memory." Harry replied, not wanting to say too much about when and why he got hit with the spell.

Malfoy didn't seem to have much of a reaction to this. He stood there silently for a few seconds before making a slight movement with his shoulders and turning his face to eye Harry warily. "Really?"

Harry pictured Malfoy sounded almost hopeful, and he nodded his head slowly. Harry knew he looked serious and sincere but for some reason Malfoy was still eyeing him with distrust.

"Yes, Malfoy, really. I can't even remember kicking your ass back in January." The shadow that crossed over Malfoy's face when Harry said this hid the smile at the memory of that fight. It hadn't really been a fight, more like a very bloody lover's quarrel.

"You must have lost you memory to forget that day," Malfoy said wryly, seeming to loosen up in Harry's presence. Harry nodded his shaggy black head and stepped down a step on the stairs, holding out his hands on front of Malfoy.

Malfoy looked at his out stretched hand but didn't make any move to take it in the dancing orange light. "Malfoy, can we call a truce or something?" Harry asked.

Malfoy nodded, his blonde strands falling down over his shoulders, and he turned his head around again. "Or something, Potter," he said and continued the descent down the staircase, leaving Harry to put his hand down by his side.

'Well that went well…' Harry thought as he stood on the stone stairwell and started to slowly make his way down as well, Malfoy's footsteps lost their echo as the Slytherin got further away from him.

'I still don't know what the hell happened on the pitch, though.' Harry reminded himself and he groaned. He wasn't any closer to figuring that one out as he was to understanding if he and Malfoy had actually agreed to be friendly... friendlier.

Harry continued down the staircase and back to the tower, vowing to himself that a long sleep was in order. Between thoughts of his lost memory and Malfoy's strange behavior he was sure he was losing his mind.

Draco left Harry/Potter standing there on the steps with his hand outstretched, refusing to take it. He felt like bouncing down the steps with the thought that maybe Harry hadn't wanted to hurt him, he simply didn't remember the relationship they had.

By the time he got halfway down the castle towards the dungeons, though, he couldn't help but feel the doubts sneak up and linger over his mind. What if Potter wasn't telling him the truth? What if he was just fucking with Draco still? What if Harry really had lost his memory and would never want to be with him again because he couldn't remember what they once had?

The doubts weighed down on Draco and took away his moment of happiness, and as he crossed the darker hallways towards his common room he only got a sense of dread. He had to see Harry again to know if he really meant what he'd said up in the South Tower, it would reassure him on many levels.

Draco reached his common room with mixed feelings that he knew he'd have until Potter approached him again. He whispered the password to the wall and it slid open for him, the stones grinding together as he stepped through the entranceway.

The few students still in the common room regarded him with contempt and one told him to get out but Draco darted across the green-lit room and down the halls towards his dormitory.

Opening the door to his dormitory he went quietly to his own bed, slinking into it silently. He didn't bother to get on his night robes, figuring it would be safer to dress when no one was in the room with him.

The look Zabini had given him when he tried to sneak into the dormitory towards his own bed had been murderous. Crabbe and Goyle had, for the past year, only regarded Draco with silence, ignoring him otherwise. Maybe the fact Crabbe and Goyle had at one point always hung out with him made them nicer to him.

Draco doubted that, though, it was probably because they were too daft to think of what to do with their so-called leader out of business, as it were. Draco pulled his silver bedding up over his body, ignoring the discomfort coming from his scratchy robes.

He really should have dressed into his night robes regardless of whether or not he'd get beat up by Zabini or the others. It would have been more comfortable at least.

Draco moved around under the sheets as he took his robes off over his head and placed them down on the side of his bed. Next to go was his shirt, which took some difficulty, and he had to sit up to pull it over his head. His hair was messed up and flying all over the place but he didn't pay that much mind.

He then lay down again and unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down his hips and off his legs with a little more ease then his shirt. He placed his shirt and pants near the pile of clothes on the side of his bed as well and lay back down in only his boxers.

It felt much better to have his naked skin hit the soft sheets then have it scratched by his pants and shirt. He pulled the sheets over his cooling body again and wrapped them around his slim figure trying to get the heat of his body to warm the sheets up and insulate him for the night.

He shivered slightly as the cool air around his body took its time warming up, but he wasn't going to risk opening those green drapes to take his time rummaging through his trunk for his night robes. He had enough bruises for one night.

His arms still hurt but dried blood only caked his arm by now, and all the emotions that had run through his mind today had taken their toll. He felt a relief as his body started to shut down and his eyes began to droop as he felt the oncoming sleepy feeling catch up to him.

Maybe that saying 'tomorrow is a better day' finally could be applied to Draco Malfoy's life. Draco still believed it was too much to hope for, though, as he snuggled into his sheets for another restless night of sleep.

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