A/N Sorry for the month of waiting! This chapter has fought me for every word, if it wasn't mentioned earlier on I'd have scrapped it all together! Fortunately I've got my mojo back and will be posting as normal again

Madame Pomfrey was still fussing over Harry as he strode out onto the Quidditch pitch. Despite repeatedly telling her and Hermione that he felt absolutely fine and didn't know why he had collapsed the previous day, neither had let him rest all morning. It was beginning to grate.

"I appreciate your medical concern Professor, but I feel just fine. I see no reason for me, the captain, to miss out on this crucial match because I went a bit woozy yesterday. It was just being tired and the heat of the room, please excuse me." He slipped past a slightly taken aback Pomfrey and lead his team out to tumultuous applause. "Good day for flying team, let's all just work hard like we did in practice and show these Slytherins they are nothing special." His words of encouragement were meet with a few yeses and a few more concerned glances.

The Slytherin team were already visible on the other side of the pitch. Both teams began walking towards each other. By the time Harry was close enough to see the leers of the other team he was starting to feel a bit sick again, but he wouldn't let that stop him.

After a bone crunching handshake with Montague, they took to the air. He could hear Zacharias voice, carried by the still air.

"Oh let's look at the shamble that Potters put together this year. It would seem that skill isn't required to make it onto the Gryffindor team, friendship with Potter is all it takes. Oh look, Weaslebee is turning red." McGonagall voice could be heard, warning Smith to behave himself and simply commentate. "Fine, Montague's got the quaffle, he is doing some spectacular weaving work to aviod the Gryffindor chasers and pelting towards Weaslebee. Looks like Slytherin are in for an early goal!"

Harry turned to where Ron was hovering near the goal posts. He wasn't the only one headed in that direction however, Montague was streaking across the pitch, quaffle in hand.

"C'mon Ron!" He bellowed at the top of his lungs. For a heart wrenching moment he thought Montague had made it, knowing it would be the end of Ron's gusto if he did. Ron's fingertips just brushed the ball, but it was enough. He quaffle hit the goal post and bounced off. Harry let out a deep sigh of relief.

The crowd below had erupted into a hearty chorus of Weasley is our King. Harry turned away and flew back to the other end of the pitch. He felt confident now that Ron would make most of the saves, it was always the first one that made or broke him. He could focus on his own job.

Harry looked over to the blonde head currently circling several feet below him. Something was still nagging him about yesterday and the way Malfoy had been dragged into the party, but it was more the way he had fainted upon seeing him. He may have been telling everyone he was fine but he didn't feel it, he felt shaken. It was as though ever nerve was trying to tell him something only it was in a different language. Whatever it-

Draco had dived.

.

.

This was it; he could see the snitch shimmering near the Gryffindor goals. Its golden shine was like a promise of success. He put on a sudden burst of speed headed straight for it, moments later he heard the whistling of Potter right behind him. This was going to be his victory, it just had to be.

Draco lent forwards some more, trying to push every ounce of speed out of his broom. He could sense that Harry was doing the same, on a slightly better broom too. He lifted his right hand off the broom and stretched desperately towards it.

Blinding pain filled his brain as his shoulder felt like it was on fire. He vaguely registered the bludger continuing to zoom off, and that his broom was hovering in the air above him as he fell away. His scrambling limbs could find no grip in the air, they merely windmilled pointlessly and caused a little extra pain in his shoulder.

It was with a detached certainty that he fell expecting death. If it wasn't for the pain it would probably be a liberating experience. He was finally flying freely, only this way there were no breaks. He should have expected the fates to intervene like this, nothing had gone to plan for Draco Malfoy since the day he set foot on the Hogwarts express. It was only right that he should fail now, for without him the Death Eaters would not be able to penetrate the castle successfully.

A tiny part of him felt happy that he had failed.

He closed his eyes and waited for death's embrace as the floor speed up to meet him. He couldn't help but think was that death had a warmer embrace than he'd imagined.

.

.

It was fortunate Harry had been staring at him whilst his mind had wandered or the match could have ended before it even began. Harry hurtled after him, his musings left behind. They were evenly matched, Harry on his Firebolt and Draco on his Nimbus 2001. Whilst Harry had that lick of extra speed he was also playing catch up. He was still three foot behind when a bludger zoomed past.

It collided with Draco's right shoulder. His arm had been outstretched for the snitch and he was caught off balance. Draco toppled off his broom. He was 50 feet up. Harry had a split second to decide, did he go for the snitch or did he go for Draco. It was no decision though really. The thought didn't even cross his mind in all honesty.

He locked in ankles together and went into a steep dive after the flapping green robes. Harry pulled his shaking hands off the stick and managed to seize Draco under the arms. His grey eyes snapped open, he looked shocked. Using all of his strength he managed to pull them both out of the dive and pull a shaking Draco onto his broom. Now they were mere feet off the ground and steadily falling due to their combined weight. Harry just managed to get the pair safely down, with both of them rolling onto the grass.

Madame Hooch and Madame Pomfrey were both rushing out onto the pitch to meet them. The game above their head seemed to have stopped though neither boy had heard the whistle blown.

Draco wanted to make some snide comment about Harry's hero complex or his stupidity but he couldn't, he was too shaken.

"Potter, what do you think you're doing?!" The Referee reprimanded him. "We are all for chivalry, but was there really any need for you to nearly throw yourself to the ground too? A cushioning charm would have been in place to catch Mr Malfoy."

Of course their would have been.

"Forgive me Professor, but for that thought to have crossed my mind I would have had to be thinking logically. All I was thinking was that I didn't want to see him collide with the ground and become a red lump of jelly and bone." Both witches looked startled, but Harry didn't notice. He was glaring at Draco, but not in a malicious way. The intensity of the green gaze caused him to look away, wincing as the slight movement inflamed his shoulder.

Madame Pomfrey cast a few diagnostic spells. The once quite crowd was getting continually more tumultuous. The Gryffindors just overhead were roaring to know what was happening.

"You have dislocated and shattered most of your shoulder bone and cracked your collar bone. You will be spending another night in the infirmary I should think. A good glass of skelegrow will straighten you out."

The rest of the teams were landing now, closing in. Katie Bell was the first to descend on him.

"What were you doing Harry?! The snitch was less than a metre away from you!" The rest of the team were roaring at him too. The Slytherins on the other hand didn't look to concerned for Draco or Harry's spectacular dive, they were more worried by the fact they now looked well and truly out of the running.

"Surely you can put it in a sling or something, he won't have to play too much longer. Come on Draco, back on your broom."

"Most certainly not! Mr Malfoy is headed to the hospital wing at once. Madame Hooch, I leave this rabble in you care." She lead Draco away, he was yet to utter a word. The Slytherin Captain was now yelling that the injury had been Harry's fault and that the match should be cancelled.

Harry found it unfortunate the Hooch disagreed and ordered them back onto their brooms. His head was spinning again and he felt vaguely nauseous. He had at last made the connection. The apples, the shadowy figure in his dreams, they were all Draco. And he had no idea what any of it meant.

.

.

It took another hour for Harry to finally catch the snitch. The Slytherins had been fighting dirty in order to claw back points but they had still lost in the end. The mood in the changing room was far from the jubilant atmosphere that normally followed a win. No one was talking much and after a brief post match talk Harry headed up to the castle without even showering. Hermione caught up with him just as he was climbing the steps of the tower.

"There you are! I asked Ron in the changing rooms but he said you'd already left. Are you feeling alright Harry?"

"Yes, no. Maybe. Something crazy is going on and I have so many holes in the explanation of what."

"Do you… do you remember anything Harry?"

"About what? Hermione, I'm tired. I think I'm just going to go to bed." He turned to continue up but what she next said had him stopping.

"I think you need to talk to Draco. He has the answers you're looking for, though I doubt he will be forthcoming with them."

"It sounds like you know what's going on here Hermione, anything you care to share with your friend?" The accusing tone of Harry's voice almost had her shying away.

"I don't know all of it. I don't know enough of it to help you. Please Harry, just talk to him." Harry shook his head and stormed off to his bed.

He thought that his exhaustion would pull him under as soon as the red curtains were pulled safely around him but it didn't. His mind was abuzz. He waged war with himself for hours, missing the evening meal and ignoring Ron when he came up, trying to reach answers that seemed just out of reach. He was loath to sneak off and find Malfoy, even more so to grovel to him for some truth. He also hated this cloud over his brain that grew the more his thought and the ache in his chest which refused to move.

The room was filled with snores when he reached his decision. He left the dorm invisible and headed off to the hospital wing.

A/N Thanks for reading, please review!