It was quite amazing how much stuff one person could fit into a trunk. Harry felt sure that Draco must have used extension charms, his dorm room was littered with things and yet the chest still seemed full. Harry crossed to the mahogany dresser and pulled open the draw to reveal yet more clothes. He pulled out several items and began stuffing them into a bag. The softness of the fabric as it slipped through his fingers couldn't be missed.

Ponce. Even in his head though, it sounded affectionate. Rummaging through the next draw he found several pairs of thick woollen socks and a deep green knitted jumper. He put those in too. He was acutely aware that he didn't have a lot of time, with Draco seemingly gone the other 6th year boys might have moved back in to the dorm, and he would be flayed alive if he were caught.

Harry moved to pull open the top draw and let out a yelp, pulling his hand back as if burnt. He was going to leave it be, but muttered finite incantateum out of curiosity. This time his touch was not greeted with pain. Cautiously he pulled it open. It wasn't full of clothes as the others had been, but old letters, memorabilia, expensive looking cuff links and leather bound books. Diaries.

It would all be in there. The information, the memories, he had lost.

He couldn't leave them here, not if the Slytherins moved back in. It would not do for anyone to be reading stuff like that. He carefully picked them up and put those into the bag, adding the letters too just in case. From the desk he took some books, a wizard chess set and some blank parchment. He pulled Draco's winter robe out of the cupboard, scooped everything up and pulled on the invisibility cloak. He'd just turned to leave when he remembered Draco's other requested.

Harry looked around the room for the sneakoscope, spotting in on his bed side table. He rushed back to carefully pick that up too, along with his note which sat under it. And with that, Harry left.

.

.

"Really Potter, you can't have found anything half-way decent? What about winter pyjamas? Are you even listening to me?"

"Hmm…? Oh sorry. It's your stuff is it not, why complain about the things you own?" Draco looked down at Harry, sat on his bed, eyes narrowing. Despite what Harry was saying, Draco knew something was up. Call it his Slytherin senses tingling. He did not appreciate his only company beyond that stingy elf actively keeping things from him. He took a seat.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing!" Harry said a little too quickly. Draco raised one slim eyebrow. "Honestly, don't worry about it."

"How you Gryffindors survive the world is beyond me. You are an atrocious liar and an even worse actor. Spit it out."

"Don't, Draco. Look, I found these journals and letters whilst I was packing your bags. Thought it was better to bring them than leave them to the mercy of your housemates." Harry pulled the paper out of his robes and Draco snatched for them at once.

"How?! That draw was spelled shut and cursed; you shouldn't have been able to get it." Draco eyed Harry up and down suspiciously. He knew what he'd done to that draw and he knew it worked too; Zabini had tried to break in last year on a dare and he had had no way to hide it. He'd spent two days in the hospital wing to recover from the burns, and another two weeks nursing his ego. "Show me your hands."

"What?"

"Show them to me Potter!" Harry almost flinched at the command, but diligently held out his hands none the less. Draco took hold of them in his own gently, feeling bad for startling Harry like that. They were rough and calloused from all the time spent on a broom stick, thin and bony like the rest of him, but completely devoid of any recent burning.

Draco tore his eyes away, glaring at Potter as if he could intimidate the truth out of him. All he got back were wide green eyes and eyebrows knitted into a look of confusion. It would seem Harry had no more idea than him as to how he'd escaped unscathed. Realising he was still holding Harry's hand, Draco dropped it quickly. He cleared his throat.

"So..um, did you read them?" A look of guilt quickly flittered across Harry's face. Draco felt his stomach sink. He could only hope he hadn't had time to read them all. Draco had found himself turning to his diaries more and more as his life had darkened, they included all of his workings on the cabinet, all his fear. And worse than that, they contained his hope. All of which centred on the messy haired explosion of life stood in front of him.

No matter what Harry was to him, there were some things he could simply not know. Some things that nobody should ever know.

"I wanted to." Harry said quietly. Draco felt his stomach flutter.

"But you didn't?"

"No! Of course not. I wanted to know all of the memories you took from me, and what I had really meant to you, but I couldn't. I don't think reading them would make the memories mine. It would be like I'd stolen them."

"Mean, Harry."

"What?"

"What you mean to me Harry, not what you meant." Draco's voice was hushed, but in the closed walls of the tower room Harry heard it clearly.

"What do I mean to you?" Replied Harry in a voice to match. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he felt at once too close and too far from Draco. The silence before Draco answered was deafening.

"A lot. You've always meant a lot, a lot of different things in a lot of different ways." Draco drew in a shuddering breath. He owed this to Harry, no matter how hard it was to say. "At first you meant everything I wanted to have, fame, power, the wizarding world worshiping at your feet. Then you were a challenge, a rival. The person who I strived to beat at every corner. You became my obsession, what it would mean if I beat you, if I gave you to the dark lord. Then you were my downfall.

"You made me question everything I believed in. You made me see that what I am has no impact on what I can become. You gave me hope when I didn't realise I'd already lost mine. I have envied you, hated you, resented you, feared you, feared for you, and now? Now I think I-" Draco's voice broke off. He had been so lost in his confession he'd let that word slip lose. And even as he realised how true it had become, he couldn't say it. His mouth moved aimlessly, waiting for words which wouldn't come.

A finger pressed tenderly to his lips.

"I understand." Draco felt the bundle of tension in his chest snap. Lips replaced a finger, and, suddenly, all was right with the world.

.

.

Harry left the Dark Tower mid-afternoon, as the first trickles of students could be seen returning from Hogsmead. His mind was still spinning with all that Draco had said to him, and his lips still tingled with the ghost of their kiss.

He had to get him out of there soon. It must be so dreary alone in that tower, with no contact but himself. And with no news of home. Harry's stomach tied itself in uncomfortable knots as he thought of all he hadn't said to Draco.

Grimmauld Place was his now, there was no really reason why Draco couldn't reside there. He'd have more room to roam and be safer at any rate. Somehow the idea of someone else being trapped there like Sirius was was too much. It was that in part that had driven Sirius to the ministry that dreadful night. Harry refused to let anything like that ever happen again.

There were other Order safe houses of course, but Harry had a hunch that wouldn't go down well with anyone. There was also the selfish little voice in the back of Harry's mind saying he didn't want to send Draco that far away from himself.

Harry was lost in his thoughts, strolling through empty corridors. Hands seized the back of his robes. It was with complete surprise and a yelp that he was pulled into a classroom. He spun round, hand in his pocket to draw his wand.

"Not so fast, Potter." Snape's wand was inches from his nose. He took a hurried step back, hitting the wall, in an attempt to get away from his least favourite teacher. "Good job I wasn't really attacking you. You'd be dead."

"I was distracted."

"Hmm. I can see that. How's Draco?" Snape sneered down at him. Harry found himself fighting hard to not punch the slimy git in the face.

"Just fine." Harry managed through clenched teeth. Snape was stood far too close for comfort, and his wand was still drawn.

"I have news from his family."

"You do?" The ambiguity of Snape's sentence made Harry's heart clench. What if Voldemort had killed Draco's mother after all?

"I believe I just said that Potter. His father is refusing to accept Draco ran away of his own accord and believes he is still in the castle. He is planning to use his right as a father and his considerable influence to get Draco out of the castle. I don't think either of us wants that to happen."

"Can't Dumbledore stop him?" Snape simply looked at Harry, eyebrow raised. "You don't think he will try, do you?" When the professor shook his head Harry felt rage boil up inside him. "Well why the fuck not?! Draco is as much a student here as I am, he's done more to save people than half the pupils here. Draco will die if Dumbledore hands him over, and there is no way that bastard doesn't know it!"

"My, my Potter. Mind your language." For a fleeting moment Harry thought Snape was about to dock points from him. "Think carefully now Potter, if he can make it seem like he has no choice, maybe even get some flimsy assurance from Lucius his son won't be harmed, and Draco is sent back to the Dark Lord who then kills him, who would you have blamed? Where would you direct your anger?"

Harry's mind was spinning as he tried to process what he was hearing. Snape had a point that Harry would have automatically blamed Voldemort, but why would Dumbledore want to get rid of Draco in the first place?

"Careful Potter, I think I can smell smoke." Harry shot him a fierce glare.

"Why does Dumbledore want Draco out of the castle so badly?"

"Not out of the castle, out of the way. What did you say the night of the cabinet?" Harry cast his mind back. It had been pretty late and the adrenaline had been starting to leave his system. He'd pointed out Snape was still around and he'd been marked, but somehow Harry didn't think that was what Snape was getting at. He was pretty sure he'd called Dumbledore 'old man' too when he'd been trying to make sure Draco could stay-

"I threatened to leave if Draco did." He said slowly.

"Ding!"

"But I still don't get it!"

"You challenged his authority. Whilst Draco is alive and here he is in the way. Dumbledore told you to get a memory of Horace, yes? But you failed to because he distracted you. How many times have you landed yourself in hospital in the past three months?" Harry opened his mouth for a retort but Snape cut across him. "How many times did he have something to do with it? What would you do to because of him?" Well, he already knew the answer to that.

"Anything I had to in order to keep him safe." Snape's eyes widened and for a moment Harry was taken aback at the clear display of emotion. The Professor clearly hadn't actually expected him to say anything. Within seconds however the mask was back up.

"Then you understand Potter." He turned to leave and was half way through the door when Harry spoke up.

"Whose side are you really on?" Snape turned to look at Harry. He was smiling, and it almost appeared genuine.

"Well isn't that the million galleon question?" The door slammed shut.

A/N Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me, the response from readers, new and old alike, has been great. I've really enjoyed writing Snape, his snarkiness is great to work with. For those asking for more about Hermione and Krum; patience! There will be much more of them in the future, but right now it's Draco's problems I'm focusing on :) Please review, each one makes me smile