Dame-of(the-living-dead Thanks so much for your review! Seeing as how you were the only vote, your side won, they will both live! :) And I am sorry for OOC'ness from time to time. I have a tough time to make them get together without it being at least a little OOC, so it will arise in future chapters too, for which I apologize! Thanks xxx

Chapter Six: Followed... Again.

They hadn't talked much since the truce; which is fair because a truce doesn't equal to being bffs. And let's be honest, as if Malfoy and Potter would go from sworn enemies to hey how was your day, smack on shoulder friends. They crossed paths from time to time and then they'd nod to each other. It was enough for people to notice; their peace seemed awfully quiet, echoing in the halls of the castle. Draco could bet that as much as his gang was pestering him, Harry would receive his fair share from the golden Trio, not to mention from his girlfriend.

He thought back upon it, and decided to erase that last comment, if only to keep his sanity. He had never seen them together but he felt quite certain that whenever his skin burnt randomly, it was her. The bitch.

Draco had ostracized himself, for the greater good. He was doing his utmost to keep his secret a secret, and with his self-centered friends hanging over his shoulder it was becoming harder. So he had accepted the offer of having his own private quarters placed on the fifth floor. At first he was happily surprised that he slept better in that room, then he realised that he was closer to Harry there.

Oh damn, Harry... He was so fucked.

Pansy pestered him with questions, accusations and false observations. Draco thought she'd never leave. She followed him around, touched him even when he yelled at her and she came into the dorm looking for him; another reason he considered himself lucky to have his own room.

She was behind him, insisting, "Dray, please turn and look for a minute!"

He sighed and looked. He actually looked. "And I am looking at what, exactly?"

"At me!" she yelled, "You haven't looked at me for weeks!"

Draco rolled his eyes and continued on his way. "I've never looked at you Pans, you're not interesting on the eye," he said.

Pansy circled round him and sent him a knowing look. "Because I'm not Potter?" she questioned with a cocky grin.

Draco didn't look at her, didn't answer. Potter remarks had fallen so often in the past days – weeks maybe – that he had grown tired of it. Or to be honest, he trembled unconsciously every time he heard the name, but barely heard the rest of the sentence.

Blaise was behind them and added, "No Pans. He doesn't look and nor does anyone else. Your nose looks like you smashed your face against a wall."

Pansy huffed and ran away undignified. Draco nodded at his friend and they walked on.

After a while Blaise whispered, "She has a point you know. I really, really get why you don't look at her but there is more. Now, you know I'm the only who has never mentioned this, but what is going on between you and Potter?"

Tired as Draco was, he stopped fighting just for a moment and replied with a sigh, "It's complicated." He looked at Blaise and saw something of a confident in him, something he was perhaps looking for. "Can you keep a secret?"

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "I swear if you've been trying to get in his pants, I will murder you for not telling me sooner."

Draco shook his head. "Not his pants exactly," he sighed.

They went into his quarters, talking of nonsense on the way, potions mostly. The day was up and they had all night if they wanted to. They might need it. Draco invited him in, let him sit, and even offered him a cup of tea like a perfect host.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Okay fancy pants, stop jittering, sit down and tell me about this Potter business," he said. Draco fidgeted a little more but finally sat down in his arm chair. He paused for dramatic effect and finally said, "I'm a Veela, or half, or quarter. It's not awfully clear."

Blaise stared at him for a while. "That explains why you've been looking so sexy this year," He replied.

Draco sent him a grin. "You know, you only really notice it if you're attracted to men."

"... That's for another time. Come on spill."

Draco got up and went to his window, all the while lifting one of the bricks from his shoulders. "So I'm a Veela," he started. "Sexy as hell, gorgeous, not female, blablabla. Got my inheritance and everything, it's not all that fun."

"And all this means?"

Draco looked out on the grounds for a moment then took his wand. He closed his eyes and whispered finite, effectively removing his glamour. He heard his friend intake his breath at the sight of him, and he understood. Without his glamour his cheeks seemed hallow, his beautiful blue eyes had taken on a dark shade of gray, he was swimming in his clothes, even his hair had started falling out in places. He was a mess. He was skinny, dangerously so in fact. His skin was pale and he had bruises covering his articulations. Worst of all, hidden deeply beneath his robes, his mark had spread even further; whilst it had remained nicely on his side for a while, it had by then started taking over his hip and his thigh. Draco even had a limp, at least when he was too tired to pretend that he hadn't.

Blaise got up and joined him. "What happened to you?"

Draco simply shrugged. "Veela stuff," he said. "Apparently to survive I need a mate of some sort."

"Yeah I read about that, after the Triwizard Tournament and all."

"Figures. Anyway, I can find my mate and everything; if I don't bond with him I'm still dying"

Blaise combed a hand through his hair and puffed. "Geez... And I take it Potter's the mate, that sucks," he said.

"Yeah, a bit."

They both sat down on the bed and started talking about everything that'd happened during the year, about all that Draco had experienced since his birthday.

"Why don't you just tell Potter?" Blaise suggested well into the evening. "I'm sure he'll bond with you, if only to satisfy his hero complex."

Draco sighed, "He probably would. But I don't want to bond, you know? Even less so with him. I mean, I'll be stuck with the git for the rest of my life."

"I feel you, but it's either that or die."

"Think I'd rather die."

"Then think again, moron."

Draco did think again, and the answer was still no. It'd basically be like a marriage, and in his mind the thought sounded far too wrong: I'm marrying Potter. Hell no.

He went to the Room of Requirements that night. He had his glamour back on, but with no one in the corridors he let his leg hurt for a moment. The mark was digging in further; it was starting to shape into feathers on his side. He struggled to move sometimes, feeling the knife did a little deeper at each movement. Voices were also starting to speak to him, voices in his head driving him over the edge. Get Potter, fuck Potter, tell Potter, love Harry, they said; at least that's what he supposed, they mumbled too much; but it was clawing at him.

He stopped as soon as he arrived at the corridor. He had grown accustomed to the feeling by then and could recognize it immediately. He did a turn on himself but there was no one there. He sighed. He could feel him there. Draco was almost disgusted at the idea of being followed, while some part of him – the part which forced a genuine smile to come upon his face – was delighted that Harry was taking an interest in him. He sneaked into the Room, forgetting his limp more than actually hiding it.

He sat in front of the mirror of Erised and stared at it. For a moment it was just him again, with that stupid smile. Then, behind him, he saw the door open in the reflection of the mirror. He quickly turned round to check but the door remained firmly closed. When he looked back in the mirror, the door was still opening and in came mister himself: Golden boy Harry Potter, wearing an equally stupid grin.

Draco put his head in his hands and whispered, "Fuck this, I'm changing."

Actually, he wasn't the only one changing. Throughout the entire History of Magic's lesson, Harry was there, staring at him. Draco noticed this because his head absently turned towards him, feeling that pull again. Every time he looked, Harry looked back. He was almost starting to feel shy. Blaise noticed it too. He raised an eyebrow at the Gryffindor, the latter just sent one back. He hardly even paid attention when Granger spoke to him. Draco bit his lip and continued his observation. His butterflies were acting up as if his Veela genes had commanded it, but his heart wasn't into it. Yet.

That weird attitude carried on for approximately two and a half days before Draco snapped. He felt the eyes following him around the room, sending jitters down his spine. When he walked around in the corridors he felt his presence, when he concentrated he could even hear his breathing. His nerves were shattering. Even in class, he just continued watching. Draco hesitated to send him a note but he couldn't. He hated himself for it, for being so shy. It felt like he was a teen girl crushing on the hot jock. Except he isn't a teen girl, and he wasn't crushing. He was just falling down, down, down, but not in love.

He walked to the Room of Requirements, taking several turns on the way to assure himself that he was being followed. He rapidly came to realise that, indeed, he was. He took a deep breath and paced in front of the entrance. There was not much point thinking of anything, the room was broken anyway. He went in, leaving the door open ajar behind him. He could feel him following. The rope tying them together got looser and looser as they drew nearer to each other.

Draco collected himself and sat down just as the door closed. He crossed his legs and looked around. "You are following me Potter, again," he said.

Harry removed his cloak, throwing it on the floor. "You knew all this time?" he asked guiltily.

Draco nodded. "Your breathing is fairly loud." He waited for the Gryffindor to sit and added, "So are you going to explain this stalking?"

Harry shrugged and ruffled his hair. "Dunno really, beats looking at Ron and Hermione snogging all day."

"Really? Weasel and Granger? Makes a... formidable pair, I'm sure."

Harry chuckled and Draco felt his heart involuntary skip a beat. "You can say that," he replied. "They're pretty disgusting. Hermione's all shy and Ron's all mouth; literally. I had no idea a mouth could actually open that wide."

Draco shuddered at the thought and pinched his nose. "Ok great thanks. I'll have that image in my head all day now," he answered.

"Oh, I don't know, there's worse."

"Like what?"

"Like, imagine you're sleeping on the bunk next to Ron, and then imagine them slipping in around midnight and forgetting to put a silencing charm up."

Draco's face scrunched up. "Alright, I surrender. That's far worse and I will not even attempt to imagine it, thankyouverymuch."

Harry chuckled. He paused and just stared at him for a moment before whispering, "What's wrong with you? I can bet my T in Potions that you're wearing a glamour again."

Draco got up and started rummaging through the stack of books next to him. "That's still none of your business Potter." He grabbed a case from underneath the big pile. "Just because we can talk about Granger and Weasley's sexual habits doesn't mean you can ask me that."

He took the case and laid it on the closest table. He opened it up and a few snores were heard from within. He looked at Harry and suggested, "Game of Chess then?"

Harry scooted closer and grabbed the white king who started groaning between his fingers. "Yeah, okay then."

Harry played white and Draco played black. Darkness won every time.

Hope you will like and review please !

*Edited