Mumbling the password to the Fat Lady, Harry stepped into the Gryffindor Common Room quietly, hoping that he could get to the dormitories without anyone noticing him. He was filled with turmoil—over the war, over the fight, and especially over Malfoy. He also felt a little ashamed, thinking about the argument with Ron and Hermione earlier. Maybe they were right. Maybe he was just a little obsessed... But no. That wasn't possible. It was Draco bloody Malfoy! His arch-nemesis and pompous brat to boot. Anyways, he probably shouldn't have stormed off.

Harry must have run out of luck, however, as Hermione spotted him immediately from her customary reading chair by the fire.

"Harry!" She beckoned him over.

Sighing, Harry headed over to her. "Er, Hermione... about earlier..."

"Oh, Harry. Don't worry about it. We know you're stressed. Perhaps it was going a bit far to suggest an... obsession. It's just... Ron and I wish you'd relax every once in a while. You're always so tense."

"I know, I know. I just... can't help the feeling that I'm wasting time by relaxing. And I'm sorry for storming off."

Hermione simply gave him a hug. "Well, I was just waiting for you to get back. I'm off to bed. Good night, Harry."

"'Night, Hermione."

As Harry headed to his own bed, he wondered at the amazing set of friends he had. He changed into his pyjamas and climbed into his four-poster, and was pulling the curtains when he heard, "Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Ron."

Draco stood outside the Slytherin Common Room entrance. His mind was replaying the earlier events, focusing on the way the sink had exploded, how Potter had crumpled so quickly to the ground. It was almost scary, the way his head had snapped back...

If Draco was one to do such silly things as shake his head to clear his thoughts, he would have done it. However, being a Malfoy, he merely disciplined his mind into order. It would not do to be sympathetic over Potter.

Still, he had stayed to make sure Potter had been all right. Though he wasn't sure what had possessed him in making that departing comment. Draco never really thought of himself alone, although that's exactly what he was. It was simply his natural state of being.

The door began to open and Draco strode forward to make it seem that he was just approaching. Pansy Parkinson leapt out and attached herself around Draco's neck.

"Draco! Where have you been? We've been looking everywhere for you..."

Draco's thoughts wandered back to the bathroom.

The next morning was a dark and stormy night Saturday, dawning early and grey over the drizzly castle grounds. Harry slept in, exhausted by, he supposed, his constant tension. When he woke up, he had the distinct impression that he had been dreaming. He lay there for a while, trying to remember, to no avail. He got up to find that Ron had left him a hastily scribbled note saying that he and Hermione had gone down to see Hagrid. That left Harry feeling slightly dissatisfied. They hadn't even bothered to wake him to see if he'd wanted to go too.

And there was absolutely nothing to do. Well, there was homework. But other than that, there was nothing to do. Perhaps he'd go down to the Common Room and see if anyone was up for a game of Exploding Snaps or Wizard's Chess.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs, the Gryffindor Common Room was completely deserted. Wondering where everyone could have gotten to, Harry sat down in a chair by the fireplace to think. He could always use the Marauder's Map to find a classmate… or Malfoy. Harry was always up for a good spying-on-Malfoy session. Harry ran back up the staircase to the dormitory, hastily threw on his robes, put his Invisibility Cloak in a pocket, and took out the Map.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." The ink bloomed across the faded, yellow parchment, outlining Hogwarts in all her majesty and populating the corridors with students. Many of them were in the Great Hall—breakfast time. Staring intently, Harry searched for "Draco Malfoy." He wasn't in the Great Hall with the other students, nor was he in the Slytherin rooms in the dungeons. Finally, Harry located him on the second floor. But… wasn't that…? Yes. He was in Myrtle's bathroom again. Strange, that he would go back there so soon after our battle, Harry thought.

A few minutes later, Harry stood outside the door to the bathroom. Glancing around to make sure no one was in the hallway, he slipped underneath the Cloak. He checked the Map to make sure Malfoy was still in the bathroom, whispered, "Mischief managed," and reached for the door–only to jump back as it started to swing open. Harry's breath caught in his throat and he pressed into the wall.

Malfoy swept out of the girl's bathroom in a manner that suggested he was either taking lessons from Snape or feeling particularly bitter about life this morning. Without so much as a glance behind him, he started off down the hall. Harry waited until he was nearly to the nearest intersection before starting after him.

Though Malfoy seemingly strode with purpose, he appeared to have no specific destination in mind. Several times he passed through the same intersection of hallways, going a different direction as before. Finally, he seemed to make up his mind and chose a direction. After a couple of minutes it was clear that he was headed to the Astronomy Tower.

When Draco entered the base of the tower, Harry waited near the door for a few minutes, knowing that the large, echoey staircase would give away his pursuit. He opened the door slowly, listening for steps. It seemed Draco had either reached the top or was far enough ahead that the sound was muffled.

As he climbed, Harry's breaths seemed to ring in his ears. What are you doing, Harry? Following Malfoy around the castle like an enamored fool or a stalker? Maybe Ron and Hermione were right about this being an obsession...

He didn't have much time to linger on these thoughts. About a fifth of the way from the top of the tower, there was a balcony that circled the outer rim of the structure. It was a popular spot for introspection as well as romance–the balcony lent a wonderful view of Hogwarts, but at the same time the isolation was great for those who wanted silence or a place to get away. Harry had a gut feeling that Malfoy was on the ledge.

Harry peered out from the doorway. Slowly, he crept around the tower until he was nearly opposite the doorway. He saw Malfoy staring out over the grounds, framed against the turbulent grey sky, which had temporarily stopped raining but continued to threaten inclement weather. He was silent and the only motion besides the occasional burst of wind flipping his hair was his shoulders rising and falling rhythmically.

He remained motionless for such a long time that Harry began to wonder if he was ever going to move. Just as he was ready to give up and go back to the Common Room, Malfoy spoke.

"It's an odd sort of weather this morning. It's quiet now, pretending it wasn't a howling tempest but an hour ago. Indecisive. Will it rain or will it storm?"

Harry stopped himself before his sharp intake of breath became a proper gasp. Malfoy had to know he was there. But that wasn't the confusing part. What had that little monologue meant?

Malfoy continued. "Although perhaps not as odd as following someone around under an Invisibility Cloak. Wearing red trainers, no less."

He turned around. "Don't you think so, Potter?"

Harry could think of no response, so he opted for a new tactic. Forthrightness. He removed the Cloak and quickly stuffed it into a pocket.

"Merlin knows I would find better things to do with my time if I had a cloak like that one." Malfoy looked straight at Harry, but there was no trace of his usual smirk.

"Look, Malfoy. What'd you mean, yesterday in the bathroom? About us both being alone."

"Isn't it obvious?"

"No, actually, it isn't."

The smirk seemed to have found its way back onto Malfoy's face. "Hm. I take it that means you didn't talk to Granger about the, em... incident."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The smirk again. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Fuck you. Why did you even lead me up here if you just wanted to be a petty little prick?"

"Tsk tsk, Harry. We really must learn to watch our mouths, mustn't we?" Malfoy, stepping forward, glanced at Harry's lips with a look on his face that was novel to the latter boy.

Harry ignored this and took an angry stride towards Malfoy. "You didn't answer my fucking question. What the fuck are you doing?"

The wind started to pick up. Malfoy took a step in Harry's direction, until they were face-to-face. "Looks like it's going to storm," he breathed.

Harry felt like he was in uncharted territory, and he had no idea why. He licked his lips and suddenly became bizarrely aware of Malfoy's, less than a foot away, still curved in a smirk. He felt the weight of Malfoy's gaze and flushed, wondering what he must look like, looking at Malfoy's lips and licking his own.

Malfoy started to lean in slowly, head bent down slightly to Harry's level. Harry barely had time to register his shock before Malfoy missed his lips and paused briefly by his ear.

"See you around, Harry."

Lightning flashed brilliantly, illuminating the sky; just like that, Malfoy was gone.