Secrets and Surprises. Chapter Eight: Thinking

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING! JK Rowling is a Goddess and I am nothing but a lowlife.

Warnings: Teenage angst to the max. Slash, eventually (Gee whiz!). I am a whore for hurt and comfort. Potentially triggering content. Not perfect match with the books (Draco is not a Death Eater in training). Not much plot in this chapter, just character development (Hopefully you all see it that way, too).

Also: 1) Thank you for the reviews! It is very much appreciated. This is my first story, so it goes a long way :) Hugs and kisses for you all.

2) I know updates for this story have been coming fast and furious, and I hope to keep it that way for the time being. However, at some point my "real" life is going to come a-knocking, and I might have to cut back to updating once a week or so. Just so all you pretty people know XD

It was the longest silence of Harry's life. The longest and most terrifying. I can't believe I just said that out loud… He swallowed, trying to get his heart out of his throat, trying to ease the knots his stomach was tying itself into. It felt surreal. Or, maybe more real than anything he'd ever experienced. The quiet stretched and thickened until Harry thought he might snap. He settled for staring at his hands, instead.

Draco blinked. Blinked again. What? He all but gaped at Harry. The Boy Who Had More Secrets Than One was studying his palms, no doubt waiting for Draco to respond. But how? What am I supposed to say? He cleared his throat and leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, fingers laced between them. He had to think, and fast. Harry looked like he might cry again. "Well," he said shortly, "That makes the two of us." He stared at the fire. Was that the right choice? A look at Harry's face told him it was.

Harry's expression was that of shock, confusion, and relief. Relief, more than anything. I'm not alone…A nervous smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You mean, you mean that you..?" Of course Harry had heard the rumors about the Slytherin ringleader—but who was he, of all people, to take rumors seriously?

"Of course that's what I meant. Honestly," Malfoy quirked an eyebrow, "Is it that big of a deal?" Sighing, he stood, quickly pulling out his pocket watch. 11:24. Late. He smirked. "Right, well, this has been fun, but I think it's really time to go." It was another creative way of not seeming too caring. He stood and waited for Harry to do the same before he made his way to the door.

"Bu—what?" That was abrupt, he thought, rising slowlyHe first had to be needled into talking, and now it seemed like that was all he wanted to do. How did you know? When did you know? Who else knows? Why do I feel this way? Harry silenced his mind quickly, knowing that he wouldn't get the answers he wanted—judging by Malfoy's suddenly impersonal demeanor. Sighing softly, he bent to the ground and grabbed his robe, pulling the garment over his head.

The two boys had made it to the door before Harry stopped. "Hey," he said, almost shy. Draco turned to face him, small smirk playing across his features.

"Thanks, Draco." He extended his palm for a handshake.

Draco hesitated, My reputation…Part of his mind groaned softly. Another pause, and then, Screw the reputation! This seemed, for once, a much more reasonable response. Smiling now, he took Harry's surprisingly warm hand in his own, giving a firm shake. "Don't mention it, Harry."

And then, for the first time in months, Harry smiled.

Draco almost fell over, his knees went so weak. Those are dangerous feelings, Draco…something mused inside of him. He ignored it. As he reached for the doorknob, he couldn't resist one more crack. "You know, Potter, I was being serious about the 'not mentioning' bit. Think of my previously unmarred name!"

Harry looked up questioningly, then noted the sarcastic smile stretched across the other's face, however not without a tiny flutter in his stomach. Er, did I just feel that? Shaking it off, he raised his eyebrows in fake seriousness. "God forbid," he replied, and added, "Like anyone in this school would believe it. We lasted this long, and without a dead body to show for it." He laughed softly.

"If I don't get to bed soon, there will be. So--" Draco swung the door open and held his arm out, gesturing for Harry to go out first. Resisting the urge to trip the other (that would be hysterical! His mind had quirked), he shut the door behind them.

Harry waved, muttering a quiet "Seeya." He felt suddenly awkward. A nervous smile, and then he turned and walked away, back towards Gryffindor Tower. He felt light. Who would have thought that having a confidant would help? Draco hadn't offered any advice, and hell, he hadn't even acted that kindly to him—but something in him rejoiced to know that someone else shared his secrets, someone else like him.

Not to be forgotten, the sleeping serpent opened one eye. He'll betray you. Harry's steps faltered, before he picked them up again. I don't care, he spat back, I'm not alone, I'm not alone..! The horrid voice whispered back. I'll always be here, Harry…

Harry repressed the urge to shudder as he reached the portrait, whispered the password, and slid through. No one was waiting up for him, which was probably for the best. He felt a pang of guilt for leaving Ron and Hermione so abruptly, and then making them worry when he didn't return. Sighing, he trudged up to bed. I'll explain something to them tomorrow…

Draco had watched him go, an odd feeling in his stomach. He had always given Harry so much trouble without thinking about what was going on in the boy's head, and now he was fighting a pang of regret—an unfamiliar feeling, that was for certain. He couldn't figure why Harry was making him second guess himself—all those times the two had fought, hadn't he, and not Harry, really been right? No. Actually, maybe never. Then why had he always started it, always provoked Harry? Because that first day on the Hogwarts Express really did hurt you. Because you always wanted Harry to approve of you. And when he didn't, you wanted to make yourself hate him, too. Draco cursed quietly as he headed the opposite direction, towards the Slytherin Dungeons, more questions haunting him. Why in the hell was he being so honest with himself? What was different about tonight than he couldn't turn a cold shoulder any longer? Because, his mind reasoned, that's what he brings out in you. Honesty. Loyalty. A need to help others. The parts of you your father tried to kill. Father made you into a snake and Harry makes you want to be a lion…

Rolling into bed that night, Draco smiled and said to himself, "Goddamned Gryffindors…"