Author's Note: Hope you guys are still with me! Harry's POV.

Chapter 19

Harry kept his head down as he stepped off the train. Winter holiday at the Burrow had been amazing and every member of the large, cheerful, boisterous Weasley family had kept him occupied. Mr. Weasley chatted with him about Muggle appliances, Mrs. Weasley fretted about his scanty diet, Ginny, Ron, and the twins played Quidditch with him and Charlie, Bill, and Percy discussed jobs and his future.

He didn't want the break to end. He wasn't ready for waking up early, going to classes, doing last minute homework… and he definitely wasn't ready to see a certain blonde Slytherin. Harry had tried to block out all of those thoughts from his mind during the last two weeks. And now that break was over, he was going to ignore Malfoy if it was the last thing he did. He'd done it for the past 7 years, why shouldn't he now? But then again, Harry thought bitterly, I never was good at ignoring Draco Malfoy.

Ron clapped a hand on his shoulder and surveyed their surroundings. "Good to be back, eh? Mum was clobbering you nearly the entire time we were there!"

Harry smiled a little. "I don't mind being clobbered."

Ron looked up at someone behind him and grinned. "You're in luck then, mate."

Harry felt arms wrap around him from behind. "Harry! Ron! I've missed you guys," Hermione let go of him and squeezed Ron's arm. Ron flushed happily, clearing his throat while Harry grinned at him.

Hermione turned and straightened Harry's collar, beaming. "I've had the best time with my parents. How was the Burrow?"

Ron smiled at her. "Brilliant, but it would've been better if you were there."

Hermione blushed prettily. "Come on, let's go."

The trio began to follow the crowd towards the castle, where dinner would be waiting for them. The whole way, Ron and Hermione created a protective barrier around Harry, bumping his shoulder or pinching his arm to let him know they were close. Harry wondered if they knew they were doing it, or if it was just an automatic reaction. Although, their "barrier" was a little more comforting and protective now than it had been for several months since Voldemort was defeated. Harry knew they were still worried about Malfoy and him.

After the incident in Hogsmeade, Harry had refused to talk about it with them. Hermione nagged about it for a couple of days and Ron had tried to talk to him once or twice at the Burrow, but since then they had both relented. Harry didn't even want to think about it himself, let alone talk about it with others. He figured it was a matter best left alone, if he was going to be successful at getting over Malfoy. And he WOULD get over Malfoy. Harry sighed. Eventually.

"Merlin, I'm starving right now. I hope they have chicken," Ron commented as they entered the Great Hall.

Harry laughed. "Of course you do, you always want chicken," he teased, receiving a playful shove in return. Hermione took his arm and they walked down to their seats. Harry's stomach grumbled and he looked down. "Actually, chicken doesn't sound so bad right now," he commented.

Hermione grinned and rolled her eyes. "Boys." They sat down, watching as the food materialized in front of their plates.

"Hi, Harry!" Blaise waved at him, taking a seat next to Hermione. "How was your holiday?"

Harry gulped down a rather massive bite of mashed potatoes before responding. "Great, Blaise. And yours?"

The other boy started to heap food onto his own plate. "Same. Went to Italy with my mother. There were so many hot girls there, let me tell you. Oh wait, you don't fancy girls! Shame," Blaise teased.

Harry smiled dryly. "Who knows, Blaise, maybe I fancy both."

Blaise laughed and pointed his fork at something behind Harry. "Valid point. Oi, Draco! Your boyfriend swings both ways! How do you like that?"

Harry's insides froze. Without thinking, he swiveled around to face the boy behind him. Malfoy's hand was hovering over Harry's shoulder. "Harry—" the blonde started, but Harry immediately spun back around. Blaise glanced between them with confusion.

"I'm not his boyfriend," Harry muttered. "Excuse me." The entire 8th year table was quiet as he got out of his seat and walked briskly away.

"Just listen—" Malfoy's voice echoed in the Great Hall, starting a wave of whispers throughout the students. Harry broke out into a run towards the doors. Outside, he swore loudly and threw his fist at the stone wall. Fuck. He stared at his bleeding knuckles, trying to numb his mind. He'd forgotten that he'd have to spend all of his time with Malfoy, seeing as the blonde bastard was his husband and father to his baby doll and all that. Just my luck, he thought bitterly, kicking at the wall. How am I supposed to ignore someone who is always around?

He heard scurrying footsteps behind him. "Harry!" He turned around slowly, but it was only Ron and Hermione. Harry felt a tiny twinge of disappointment in his chest. It's not like he wanted Malfoy to come running after him—he didn't—but…

"He didn't even try," he whispered softly, facing towards the wall again.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione wrapped her arms around him.

Ron put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You didn't let him, mate. He looked like he was going to cry when we left." Harry continued to stare at the wall.

Hermione rested her head on his other shoulder. "At least talk to him, Harry. I think you should."

"No. It's better this way."

She tilted her head. "But you're married and you have a baby with him!" Harry gave her a dry look. "Okay okay, but you have to spend a lot of time with him for this assignment. It's better if you can communicate," she amended.

Harry shook his head and started walking to the Slytherin dorms. "I'm going to bed early." His friends nodded slowly, watching him go.

"Just… just think about it, okay?" Hermione called after him.

Harry sat on his bed a few hours later with the curtains closed, toying with Rebecca's tiny fingers. Snape had kept her during the holidays and had apparently found her a challenge. When Harry went to retrieve her, the man snarled at him, shoving the doll into his arms as if she were some kind of toxic substance. He'd sneered, "Take the little monster Potter, I cannot stand it!" before slamming the door to his quarters in Harry's face. Harry tickled the doll absently. "Good Becca, I hope you made that sour bastard's life hell." He cooed sweetly, smiling when she giggled at his touch.

"Harry…?" A tentative voice called out from behind his curtains.

He sighed. "Yes, Blaise?"

The other boy pulled back his curtains and sat on his bed with him. "Want to explain to me what happened?" he asked, plucking Rebecca from Harry's grasp.

Harry picked at his sheets. "Not really. Didn't Malfoy tell you?"

Blaise shook his head. "No, he won't talk about it."

Harry sighed and pushed back his hair. "Well, he said something offensive and I don't want to take it anymore. We're done, I guess."

"But isn't he always offensive?" Blaise asked, gazing into his eyes searchingly.

Harry looked away. "Yeah, but… This one really hit the nail over the head."

Blaise cocked his head at the expression. "What?"

Harry sighed. "I mean… ugh, it's complicated."

Blaise shot him that look of concern Hermione always gave him. "Well whatever it is, you guys need to talk about it. Draco's just been moping down in the common room all night, writing in a journal and shit. You've turned him into a lovesick puppy. I wouldn't be surprised if he started listening to sad Muggle songs."

Harry snorted at the idea. "Yeah, right. But I'm not going to talk to him about it. Malfoy and I, we're… not good for each other. We've got to let each other move on."

Blaise patted his shoulder and got up from his place on the bed. "Just… Don't lock up your emotions, Harry. I know you are. Really think about how you feel. You'll see that you're wrong," he said softly, before turning and leaving the room.

Harry sighed and turned his attention back to Rebecca. "I wish I could," he whispered to the doll, letting her fall asleep in his arms. He placed her carefully down on the bed and leaned back on his pillow. Maybe Blaise was right. It wasn't healthy keeping all these feelings bottled up. He closed his eyes, letting his thoughts course through him freely. He imagined Malfoy's blonde hair, how his cheeks turned light pink when he was embarrassed, the way his eyes lit up when he smiled. He thought of the snarky comments, the raised eyebrow when Harry had trouble with Potions, the smirk when he was right and Harry was not. He could see Malfoy's pout when Harry kissed his nose, could almost hear him laugh and say, "Honestly Potter, you're such a Gryffindor."

Harry reluctantly let his mind open wider, back to that night in Hogsmeade. He pictured the anguish on Malfoy's face when Smith had taunted him, the tears falling down his face. How it had made Harry's heart hurt, seeing Malfoy like that. He recalled shouting his love for the Slytherin for everybody to hear. He pictured the flashing gray of Malfoy's eyes when he'd told Harry off. He felt the rejection, pain and anger rush through him again and heard the absolute silence of the bar. He saw that look of realization, the broken expression when Harry turned to leave. He remembered Malfoy's shaky voice calling him by his first name. Harry sucked in a breath sharply, trying to control his emotions. He clenched his jaw and willed the wetness in his eyes to subside. This was a bad idea; he wasn't going to get over Malfoy this way. He crawled under the covers and shut his eyes tightly, desperately trying to block out the memories again, but he felt hot tears streaming down his face as he drifted off to sleep.

Harry went through the next week quite awkwardly. He had awkwardly woken up next to his ex, awkwardly gone to class with his ex, awkwardly ate meals with his ex, awkwardly took care of Rebecca with his ex… and currently, he was awkwardly sitting in the common room next to his ex, along with Blaise, Nott, and Pansy. It was all quite unfair, really. Malfoy sat with his back facing Harry, writing in the journal that Blaise said he had. I wonder if he's writing to his mother. Harry felt a pang in his chest. No, Malfoy probably didn't even bother with it. He'd said it was too silly and sentimental, and he only did it before to appease Harry while they were together. But now that they weren't…

Blaise waved a hand in front of his face. "Oi, Earth to Harry! Who do you think will win, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff?"

Harry blinked at him. "Win what?"

"Quidditch, of course!" Blaise scoffed at him. Harry shrugged. He wasn't that involved in Hogwarts Quidditch this year because he didn't try out for the team. It had been his dream come true when he had started playing in first year. He wanted to give younger students the chance to have their dreams come true too.

Nott snorted. "Not everything revolves around Quidditch." Harry raised an eyebrow at him and Blaise gasped. "Take that back!" Nott laughed and refused, earning a playful push from the other boy.

Harry grinned at both of them and then noticed that Pansy had scooted closer to Malfoy. They talked quietly for a couple of minutes, before Pansy got up and announced, "Come on guys, it's late. Let's go." The boys parted with Pansy to their dorm, getting ready for bed with slightly tense exchanges. Since Harry and Malfoy weren't speaking, the conversations were usually divided. Harry slipped into bed, adjusting Rebecca by his pillow before lying down and closing his eyes. He didn't look as Malfoy got in beside him.

It was 2 AM and Harry was still awake, clenching and unclenching the hand closest to Malfoy's. There was an unexpected rustle at the curtains beside him. He sat up hesitantly, pulling them back.

"Hello?" He whispered into the darkness. "Blaise?"

All of the sudden, there was a light shining in his eyes. Pansy had her wand pointed at him with the tip illuminated. "Potter, come out here," she whispered.

He squinted his eyes at her. "Now?"

She glanced at Malfoy, who appeared to still be sleeping. "Yes I need to, um, talk to you. In my room." Harry knitted his eyebrows together but didn't respond, getting out of the warm bed and wincing at the cool air. He shivered. Pansy rolled her eyes and draped her cloak over him. "Let's go."

Once they arrived in her dorm, she motioned to the bed. "Get on."

He made a face. "What, why?"

She sighed in exasperation. "I'm not coming on to you, Potter, just come here." He gave her a skeptic look before climbing on. She joined him, closing the curtains and whispering a Silencing charm so they wouldn't wake her dorm mates.

"Okay, what is it?" Harry asked, eager to get back to his bed. It was even colder in the girls' dorms. She pulled out a little notebook and handed it to him. He looked at it with bewilderment. Malfoy's journal?

Sensing his confusion, Pansy nodded. "Yes, it's Draco's. There are some things in there that you need to read."

Harry pushed it away. "I… I don't want to. It's his private stuff. He doesn't want me to read it."

Pansy snorted. "Yeah, and he didn't want me to steal it from his trunk either but that didn't stop me, did it? Look," she said, noticing Harry's doubtful expression, "Draco doesn't know how to express his feelings, Potter. Not out loud. You need to know what is going on in that twisted head of his and if you won't talk to him, this is what you have to do. Just… Just read it. Please."

Harry looked up into her pleading eyes, trying to find a trace of deception in them. There was only concern and care reflecting back. He sighed. "Okay," he said slowly, reaching for the book.

Pansy smiled and wrapped him into a hug. Surprised, Harry hugged her back. "I just hate seeing him hurt," she whispered, "And you're the only one who can make it stop."

Harry left Pansy's dorm and headed down to the empty common room, shivering as he took a chair by the fireplace. He had Pansy's cloak, but it was still so bloody cold in the dungeons on winter nights. He glanced down at the book in his lap. These are Malfoy's private thoughts. Thoughts he probably didn't want Harry to read, ever. Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead tiredly, reluctant to open the journal. What if it said something he didn't want to know? What if Malfoy didn't care about him at all anymore? Harry shuddered. He didn't want to do it. This was wrong. He was about to get up and put Malfoy's journal back, but a nagging thought overcame his brain. Read it, or you'll never know.

It was right. He needed to know or he'd never be satisfied. Harry sighed, giving in. He flipped the cover open to page one.