Harry watched Draco go with no small amount of turmoil boiling in his gut. The encounter had gone better than he'd hoped but he still felt unsettled. It wasn't often that his plans went this well and he wasn't even sure what his plan had been. He groaned, thudding his head against the cauldron in front of him.

"I feel that. Malfoy eh?" Ron clapped him on the shoulder with a laugh. "What was all that nonsense about anyway?" Harry shrugged and caught the dirty look Neville gave him on his way out. Great.

Harry didn't make a habit of threatening people but when he did he'd like to think he had good reasons. And getting Draco as his lab partner had felt like a very good reason at the time. He'd heard about the project yesterday and counted on Draco being late. All he had to do was make sure no one partnered with him before that, and that had ended up being a messier affair than he'd wanted. He'd been especially short with Neville who'd had to partner with a spare Slytherin. Harry wasn't totally sure how to explain himself though. Sorry for what I said when I wanted to work with Draco who I didn't mean to blow up last week, please stop spreading that rumor. He thudded his head one last time before gathering his things.

"I just wanted to work alone, is all." Harry mumbled, and followed his friends out of the classroom.

He still wasn't entirely sure why getting Draco to work with him had been so important. His initial plan to corner him into confessing had gone wrong in pretty much every imaginable way and after that Harry had resigned himself to just accepting it. But Draco had been avoiding him since the incident and Harry was finding it increasingly difficult to stay mad when all he could think about was the terror he'd seen in his eyes when Harry had cast that spell.

Harry couldn't explain any of it. The terror or the panic attack that followed or Draco's sickly demeanor. He wasn't even sure why Draco had dropped him in the first place. But something was wrong and he'd started to suspect that Draco had been hiding things from him. The way he moved through the castle like one of its ghosts didn't give the air of someone who jilted lovers for sport.

He suspected that Draco's words from the other day had something to do with it: You hate me. The sentiment hadn't stopped echoing through Harry's head since he'd spoken it. Did Draco really believe that? The fear that he did had been a primary driver in Harry's oddly concocted partnership scheme anyway. Maybe if Harry could convince him they could be friends outside of the anonymous notes, maybe Draco would be honest with him. Maybe things could go back to how they were. He figured it was worth a shot and maybe Harry just missed him and that was reason enough to act irrationally.

The most reasonable next step that Harry came up with in his plot to befriend Draco was to research for their project together. Which is what he claimed to be doing as he studied the Marauder's map that evening, looking for Draco's footprints. If the blonde refused to accept his help, he would just happen to be at the library at the same time. It was foolproof. .

Except Draco's footprints were nowhere to be found. He wasn't in the Slytherin common room, he wasn't in the library, and even though classes had ended for the day, Harry checked to make sure he wasn't in a classroom either. Draco Malfoy was not in Hogwarts according to the magical map.

"Harry, let's go." Ron chimed, pulling his shoes on. "Hermione's waiting for us."

Harry scanned the map one last time before folding it up and shoving it into his jacket pocket. "Yeah, one sec." The dorm was empty except for Ron and him, as dinner had started being served 20 minutes ago. Harry slipped into his sneakers and checked his hair in the mirror. The map was probably just glitching and hopefully he would see Draco in the Great Hall, even though he was missing as often as he was there these days.

The boys hurried out of the dorm, chatting casually about the upcoming quidditch try-outs. Ron was hoping to be chosen for keeper and Harry encouraged him, still feeling strange with the new power to pick his team this year. He assured both Ron and Hermione that he would only pick the people best suited and not just his favorites, though that would make the season a lot more fun.

Hermione didn't look pleased as they walked down the stairs. "Really? Come on, if we're late to dinner, we'll be late to the library."

"Hermione-" Ron whined, taking her hand as they exited through the portrait. "It's the first week, let us take it easy." She did not seem to agree with the sentiment but seemed happy to walk arm in arm with her boyfriend.

"Really, you two. NEWTs are going to be here faster than you think and don't forget that potions assignment. Ron, if you expect me to do it by myself-"

"I'll help!" Ron protested, offended at the insinuation. "At least you didn't get saddled with Malfoy, 'Mione." he joked, laughing "You really should have taken Neville, Harry."

Harry cracked a smile and shrugged. "Oh well. Too late now I suppose." Ah yes, what an inconvenience. "Besides, Draco's good at potions. I think it'll be fine."

Ron shot him an incredulous look. "You've been calling him 'Draco' all week, what's up with that?"

"I don't know. He just doesn't seem so bad anymore."

Ron pretended to dry heave and Harry laughed. He figured it would be best to slowly warm Ron up to Draco so that if his plan worked, Harry could tell Ron everything and Draco could join their little trio. Thus far, Ron seemed reluctant to be convinced.

"Yeah, he does seem a lot more mellow these days." Hermione added, smiling at Harry. She had come around to the reveal of Draco's identity almost immediately when Harry had told her. It seemed that after the Summer and all their long discussions, she was just happy Harry didn't have to mourn yet another person in his life. Draco Malfoy was just barely better than a corpse. Either way, Harry appreciated the support.

"Is that why you blasted him?" Ron laughed, remembering his favorite day of class so far. Harry grimaced, tired of having this conversation with everyone in Gryffindor. A few had even congratulated him upon being paired up in potions saying "ayy, you'll get him this time, Harry!"

"I didn't!" It came out as a whine. "It was an accident. Ugh." Hermione patted his arm consolingly as if to say it's okay. We all want to eviscerate our boyfriends sometimes.

The great hall was already packed when they arrived, tables laden with food and the trio took their place next to Neville and Luna at the Gryffindor table. Neville gave Harry a wary look and Harry took the opportunity to apologize.

"Hey, I'm sorry for earlier. I really should've partnered with you. I was being stupid." He lied.

Neville smiled and accepted the olive branch. "It's okay. Malfoy is punishment enough I suppose." Harry laughed but didn't object. The group piled food on their plates and ate happily, discussing classes and upcoming events. Harry was distracted though, scouring the length of the far table for a head of blonde hair that was once again nowhere to be seen. Was he eating somewhere else?

Harry was about to open the map again to try and look for him when he finally appeared. Looking bedraggled and stressed, he made his way to the Slytherin table and sat by Parkinson and the others who looked to be almost finished. He sat stiffly as his friends greeted him and Harry could tell he didn't particularly want to be there. It was how he looked most of the time now that Harry thought about it.

Draco's eyes caught Harry watching him and they sat there for a moment, staring at each other. Draco didn't look away this time but his blank expression didn't change and Harry eventually conceded, turning back to his friends. He couldn't get over how sick he looked and the dead stares were such a common occurrence that Harry thought that maybe he actually was a ghost. The need to fix things between them suddenly felt very urgent.

Harry watched Draco's footprints head towards the library as he waited for the rest of his friends to finish eating. His leg bounced under the table, ready to go at a moment's notice. He didn't know how long Draco would be there and he didn't want to miss him. "Come on, I want to get started on my homework." He urged, not trying to hide his eagerness.

Hermione looked unsurprised having watched him watch Draco leave only minutes earlier, but she was nonetheless happy to not be the only one worrying about homework anymore. "I'm ready! I can go with you." Harry vowed right then and there to get Hermione whatever she wanted for Christmas because surely she was the best friend anyone could ever ask for.

They said goodbye to the rest of the group, Ron looking unhappy to be abandoned but not willing to leave his dessert behind yet. Harry was practically dragging Hermione out of the great hall with the rush he was in but they couldn't get to the library fast enough in his opinion. Hermione casually greeted Madam Pince as they entered but Harry was too busy swiveling his head, scanning tables for Draco. The library was busy at this time of night but there was no sign of the signature blonde. Harry's heart sank. Had they been too slow?

Hermione nudged him with her elbow. "Go look for him, I want to chat with Irma for a minute. I'll catch up with you if you can't find him." Harry nodded and walked towards the stacks, double checking that Draco was indeed not occupying any of the tables. No luck.

He checked between each of the shelves and with each empty aisle felt his heart sink just a bit more. Desperate, Harry walked to the side and pulled out his map. His own footprints were only a few centimeters away from Draco's. He was still here and he was close. Harry calculated where he had to be and walked through the last few shelved areas, eyes wide. And then he found him, sitting alone at a solitary table that had been shoved to the back corner of the library. Until now, Harry hadn't even known it was there.

Draco looked up as he approached and seemed unimpressed. "So you are following me then."

Harry couldn't help but grin, too relieved to have caught him to deny the accusation. He raised his hand to wave before he realized how dumb he looked. "Hey!"

"Potter." Draco's expression slipped into a mild bewilderment as Harry took the chair next to him. A moment passed in awkward silence as Harry caught his breath.

"Potions!" Harry blurted, having not planned this far ahead.

Draco raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly. "Yeah? What about potions?"

"I want to help."

"Huh?" Draco looked very confused and Harry couldn't help but stare at the beautiful gray eyes that he'd imagined so often. It felt surreal to be sitting so close to D and not being able to finally touch him.

"You said you were going to do some research for the project. I want to help. That's why I'm here." Harry smiled, having composed himself enough to remember his cover story.

"Right." Draco smirked, moving his hair out of his eyes. "As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I'm not working on that tonight." Harry finally looked at the books that Draco had gathered on the table and noticed that not a single one of them was potions related.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Draco's amused smile was distracting but Harry tried again.

"Well, why don't I work on it while you do…" He read the title of the book in Draco's hand, "Modern wizarding medicine?" It wasn't what he'd expected to find. "What class is that for?"

The question was innocent enough but Draco's smile had fallen and he looked uncomfortable as he tried to answer. "Just for some homework. Essays, you know."

Harry was skeptical but was trying to be on his best behavior and he doubted calling Draco a liar would do much good. "Yeah, well I can work on potions while you do that. Sound alright?"

Draco looked ready to protest so Harry got up and started searching for books on the draught of peace. Back in the stacks, he waved to Hermione who had found a table in the main area and gave her a thumbs up. She grinned at him and repeated the motion back. Ron had joined her and looked quizzically between them. Harry laughed softly, feeling lighter than he had in ages.

Armed with two hefty textbooks, Harry returned to Draco's table and sat beside him once again. Draco stared at the titles for a long time before acknowledging Harry.

"Do you have to do this here?"

"Of course. We're partners."

"Yeah, but we're not even working on the same thing? Go work with your Gryffindors." Draco made a fair point but Harry had already decided he was going to sit here so fair points didn't matter.

"Yeah, but if I have questions, I can ask you." He knew the argument was borderline nonsensical so he opened the first book and started thumbing through pages before Draco could voice any more objections. They studied in silence for a while and Harry was so pleased with himself that he found it hard to concentrate.

Eventually, he got lost in the work and started dissecting the proper ways to brew the draft and the common mistakes that one might make. It apparently was not going to be as easy as he'd originally thought. The ingredients were persnickety and the instructions were much more strict than Harry had guessed. They would need to be exact if they didn't want to permanently rob someone of their emotions.

"This says we should add the root at midnight for the best potency. Do you think the teachers will let us into the lab?" Harry asked, glancing up at Draco. Only Draco didn't seem to hear him, eyes still focused intently on his medicinal text. "Hey-" Nothing. Harry spoke a bit louder "Hey, Draco-"

His head shot up at that and Harry stared. "You okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"I was talking to you, did you not hear me?"

It was impossible to miss the slight flush that crept up his pale neck. "Oh, sorry. No. What did you say?"

"Just that we have to add an ingredient at midnight. Do you think we can get permission from the teachers?" But he was distracted now, seeing the page that Draco had been reading: burn treatments.

"I don't see why not if it's for an assignment." Draco shrugged, not noticing Harry's expression.

"Yeah." Harry nodded, unsure of what to do. They both turned back to their reading.

"Did you ever visit Madam Pomphrey?" he asked suddenly, guilt bubbling up in his throat. But once again, Draco didn't react and Harry reached out to get his attention. His fingers had barely touched Draco's arm when he jumped back, nearly falling out of his chair.

"What the hell?!" Draco hissed, eyes narrowed.

Harry wasn't sure what to say, "Um, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." Draco's eyes didn't soften, waiting for an explanation. "Um, did you ever visit Madame Pomphrey?" Draco didn't say anything but his posture relaxed slightly. "You know, after I-"

"After you tried to kill me in a duel?" Draco provided, leaning his head against his fist thoughtfully.

Harry scrambled, "No, I didn't-" but upon seeing Draco's expression he stopped "Oh, you're messing with me, aren't you." Draco smiled. "Gah, don't do that." He groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"You're the one harassing me, Potter. Feel free to leave anytime."

Harry glared at him, not willing to be distracted so easily. "Did you though? See Madam Pomphrey?"

"Yes."

And Harry decided that maybe it was impossible to play nice around Draco without calling him a liar. "No you didn't." Harry expected him to lash out at that, but they just looked at each other for a long moment before Draco sighed.

"What if I didn't? It doesn't matter."

Harry pointed at the medical textbook. "It obviously matters if you're reading that. Why wouldn't you just go to the nurse?"

Draco swallowed and Harry thought for a moment that he wouldn't answer. "I don't like hospitals."

Harry didn't know what to say, "That doesn't sound like you." and when the other boy didn't reply to that he continued. "I'm really sorry."

Draco rolled his eyes "You're hardly the first person to shoot fireballs at me. Just because you landed one doesn't mean you get to mope around about it."

Harry wanted to cry at how much he sounded like D in that moment and he had to remind himself that he was D. "Is there anything I can do?"

Draco tapped the textbook. "I've got it handled, Potter."

They studied in relative silence after that, and Harry didn't ask any more questions that didn't relate directly to the project. He moved from one textbook to next and was relieved when Draco finally did the same, setting the medical book aside in favor of charms. It was tedious work but as curfew drew closer Harry found himself not wanting to go. The quick glances he allowed himself and the subtle curve to Draco's lips as they spoke were worth every second of dense reading. Draco was beautiful and while Harry wished things were back to normal between them, just being next to him felt unreal.

"So we're starting the potion on Tuesday, want to meet up before then and make a game plan?" Harry asked, deciding that he did eventually need to head upstairs.

"That would probably be best. Monday night?"

"Quidditch." Harry shrugged. "Can we do Saturday?" and Draco agreed. Harry stood, books in hand, for an extra moment, not wanting to say goodbye yet.

"Thanks for studying with me." He said, shifting on his feet.

"Don't thank me. It wasn't by choice." Draco replied, organizing his own stack of textbooks, but there was a certain fondness in his voice that made Harry think he appreciated the company. Harry smiled and waved goodbye, suddenly eager to make one last stop before he had to head back to the common room.

By the next afternoon, Harry was spiraling. "God, Hermione, it's really him. What am I going to do?"

"I thought you already knew it was him?" She didn't look up for her book as she spoke. By now she knew that Harry just needed a sounding board for these things.

"I did but knowing and knowing is different ya know? Like I knew he was D but talking to him last night… that was D!" Harry had draped himself over his bed because being dramatic felt like the only reasonable response to his current situation. "I'm so fucked. Draco! Hermione, Draco!"

"Please don't swear." Hermione tsked disapprovingly from her place on Ron's duvet. The rest of the Gryffindors were elsewhere helping Neville with his most recent fiasco and Harry had taken the opportunity to drag Hermione to the boys dorm because she was the only one who would understand the predicament he had found himself in.

Harry buried his face in his pillows. "How could it actually be Draco?!"

"I'm sorry but I don't see how this changes anything?" She shut her book, and leaned forward.

"I was such an asshole to him." Harry said weakly, remembering their duel and the way he had spoken. He had been pissed at the time but now it just seemed so stupid. Because Draco really was D and he was alive and he was here.

"You knew who he was. And I still don't get how this changes anything!"

"He thinks I hate him, Hermione!" Harry rolled onto his back and splayed his arms out.

"Do you hate him?"

"Of course not." But the words were weak because maybe for a while he had hated him. For the few days he'd thought Draco had played him and left without so much as a goodbye. Harry hadn't thought there was any justification for it. But he didn't think that anymore. And he didn't hate him.

"Well if you don't hate him. Then he's got nothing to worry about. "

"I yelled at him." Harry confessed. He didn't want to tell her how badly he'd physically hurt him. He wasn't totally sure if he could cope with that fact himself.

"He probably deserved it." Hermione laughed. "Just don't throw any more explosives at him," Harry shot her a withering look. "Or shout at him and you'll sort it all out. He let you study with him last night so it can't be a totally lost cause."

"What if he hates me now?" Harry hadn't been brave enough to say it out loud yet but it had been a thought dwelling just underneath his skin since D's final reply had arrived at the burrow. Maybe he'd dropped Harry because he really just couldn't stand him anymore. No bigger mystery, just unreciprocated feelings.

"Well, if he really doesn't want you around, then he can be a big boy and break up with you properly. Until then, I don't see the problem." Hermione might have accepted Draco for Harry's sake but she didn't try very hard to cover her distaste for his actions in her tone of voice. "You'll be fine, Harry. Just try to get along."

Harry smiled, hoping she was right like she always was.

Harry started their study session by placing a small glass jar of orange liquid in front of Draco. He took it, examining the unlabeled contents before giving Harry a questioning look.

"It's for your burn. It's got all the magic: Pain relief, rapid healing, scar treatment and I'm told it smells delightfully of oranges." Harry added that last bit with a smug grin.

Draco turned the jar in his hands. "How did you-"

"Madam Pomphrey and I go way back." Harry waved it off like it hadn't taken much convincing. Which was mostly true. He'd had to lie through his teeth, but he'd had a foundation of yearly hospitalizations to build on.

Draco was still staring at the jar, mouth agape.

"It's real, I promise. It should work for you." Harry was beginning to worry that this had been a bad idea. Maybe Draco had already solved his problem and this was just a poorly planned reminder.

"Thank you." Draco's voice was small when he eventually spoke. "You didn't have to do this."

"I know." Harry grinned. "I wanted to, though." Draco looked at him skeptically as he moved to place the jar in his bag. "You can go use it now if you'd like. I don't mind waiting."

Draco seemed torn, a pained expression flitting across his eyes. "Are you sure?" Harry nodded enthusiastically. Draco seemed a little shell shocked as he stood up and left their table, cradling the jar gently in his hands. Harry organized his textbooks out in front of him, unable to stop the self satisfied grin from spreading across his face.

When Draco finally returned, the change wasn't as obvious as Harry had imagined it but his posture was different, and his steps seemed a little lighter.

"All good?" Harry asked as Draco sat, staring ahead. "I can probably get a different one if that doesn't work…" But Draco just folded his arms and buried his face against the table, shoulders shaking. For a horrifying moment, Harry thought he might be crying before it became more clear that he was laughing. Draco Malfoy was laughing.

"God, I didn't-realize how badly that bitch hurt…" He said in between bursts. "It feels so much better- I don't know why- it's not even funny… " Harry wasn't sure how to react as Draco pulled his head up, eyes bright as they looked at him. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Harry smiled.

"Here," he returned the jar, still mostly full of the bright ointment.

Harry pushed it back towards him without hesitation. "Pomphrey said to apply it once a day for a week, so keep it." Draco didn't object, putting it away in his bag and flexing his shoulders.

Harry couldn't help but watch him with an intrigued hint of a smile. "Does it really feel that much better already?"

"Like you wouldn't believe." He was wearing an expression that Harry had never seen before. Like the cold mask he usually hid behind was lifted for just Harry to see. He was more beautiful than anything Harry imagined over the Summer.

"Happy to help."

For the rest of the evening, the two boys stuck to topic, discussing their plans for their project and taking detailed notes on procedures and tips. Harry had started a rough outline of their final paper and Draco seemed content to mock up a care schedule for the week-long brew. Even with the grueling work, Harry smiled everytime he caught Draco flexing his shoulders, lost in thought. He doubted Draco even knew he was doing it but the action was endlessly endearing nonetheless.

"What'd you do to your textbook?" Draco asked eventually, having finally noticed Harry's borrowed copy of the standard potions text. At another time, Harry might have thought Draco was mocking him for having something so worn out, but he could tell the words came from a place of mild curiosity.

"Got it like this. I borrowed it from Slughorn since I joined the class after the semester started."

"Oh, you did? I didn't realize."

"Yeah, I think you were later than me that day. Pretty impressive actually." Draco didn't say anything to that, nodding his head in understanding. Harry didn't want the conversation to end though so he pushed. "You're late to class, kind of a ton lately."

Draco swallowed and Harry could tell he'd stepped into something the boy didn't necessarily want to talk about. "Just working on a project."

"Is that what you're doing when you miss meals too?"

Draco visibly stiffened, knuckles going white on his quill. "Keeping track of me, Potter?" It was like the walls that Harry had only just broken through were reconstituting, blocking any path back inside.

Harry scrambled for an excuse but knew that there wasn't one. "N-no, just…" Draco was looking at him. "You're hard to miss." He motioned to Draco's hair and flushed, regretting ever having stepped foot into this damn library.

Draco watched him incredulously, as if calculating.

"I don't mean- It's just that your hair is unique and it makes you noticeable." He wasn't sure that was any better but he was floundering with each second that Draco didn't speak. "So I just sometimes notice that you're not there, not that I'm tracking y-"

"Potter, stop it before you give yourself an aneurysm." Draco had turned away, slipping back into the exhausted expression he sometimes wore. He pushed his hair out of his face and pulled a textbook closer, seemingly ready to drop the subject.

"What project is it you're working on?" Harry had decided he might as well ask while he was in the process of digging his own grave. Maybe it had something to do with all the strange behavior. He doubted it would come up naturally again.

Draco didn't look up though, unsurprised that Harry had asked. "Restoring furniture for my mother's christmas gift."

"Why not just buy her something new?"

"It's an antique. An old family heirloom with lots of sentimental value."

And it was by the third excuse that Harry could tell he was lying. But he was afraid that if he pushed any farther, those walls would never come back down. So Harry took what he could get and let the rest go. "Oh, that's cool. Maybe you could show me sometime."

Draco paused his writing warily. "Yeah, maybe."

As well as the Monday tryouts had gone, Harry wasn't in much of a mood to celebrate. He knew he should have been thrilled to have such a strong line up his first year as captain and with their training schedule blocked out and plans made, the future felt bright. But he couldn't keep his hands from unfolding the marauder's map, checking for Draco for the second time that night. He felt uneasy, regardless of the celebration happening around him. Draco's footprints had disappeared again and he hadn't shown up in the Great Hall since they'd spoken in the library two nights before. Harry suspected it was out of spite for the observations he'd made but it was still worrying nonetheless.

Draco had been lying about the furniture project. Harry was sure but he couldn't see anything to actually do about it. And he couldn't help but feel like he'd screwed up. Draco had been guarded and short with him for the rest of the evening and the walls between them just felt like one more thing that Harry had no control over. Harry was totally and completely useless and that concept was not one he had much experience with.

"Harry! We're gonna sneak down to the kitchens and get Dobby to make us some celebratory cakes! Come with us, mate!" Ron swiped the map out of Harry's hands before he could react. Harry's nerves were so tightly wound that he almost snapped at his friend out of instinct. It was hard to be mad though, Ron had been so stressed about tryouts since the semester started, it was nice to see him relieved and happy. So he smiled and extracted himself from his place on the common room couch.

Harry followed the rest of the team through the corridors to the side entrance of the kitchens. It was late into the evening but curfew hadn't passed yet so the chanting continued even as they passed bewildered freshman and received odd looks from passing professors. Harry knew he wouldn't see Draco in the halls, but every blonde head of hair that he glimpsed made him do a double take.

Dobby was just as happy to see them as he always was when they knocked on the portrait. "Harry Potter has come to visit Dobby!" It was as if he hadn't seen the ten other Gryffindors trailing behind. Harry smiled and greeted each of the elves in turn as they walked into the large preparation area. Ron immediately requested 20 pastel pasties and resumed their chants, now joined by several unoccupied and enthusiastic house elves.

"Why does Harry Potter not sing?" Dobby asked, appearing next to Harry at the edge of the group.

"Oh, I'm just not really in the mood, Dobby." Harry smiled at his favorite elf. "How has employment been treating you?"

"Oh, most wonderfully, Harry Potter! Dobby is thinking about starting a savings account!" The elation with which he spoke of such a trivial thing made Harry laugh, wishing that Hermione had joined their group excursion. She would be thrilled to hear about Dobby's financial outlook and he made a note to tell her later.

"That's fantastic! Well done, Dobby!" The elf grinned, rubbing his knobby little hands together excitedly. They chatted for a little while about the kitchens and Harry told him about tryouts. Harry didn't visit the elves as often as he should but he was happy to catch up with his smallest friend. It was only when a tray of twenty pasties was presented to Ron that something occurred to Harry.

"Hey Dobby, does Draco ever pick up meals from you guys?"

The mention of his previous household's heir made the elf flinch. "Oh, no sir. Dobby does not be seeing the old master here."

Harry frowned. He had been sure Draco was just sneaking food from the kitchens. The implications of his habits with the great hall were suddenly even more concerning. "Will you let me know if he does? Or just if you notice anything strange with him?"

Dobby looked concerned at the request. "Is Harry Potter investigating something?"

Harry considered for a moment before answering. "Yeah, I am. Would you like to help?"

"Oh, yes please!" The elf looked thrilled to be of service and Harry grinned.

"Just keep an eye on him for me, would you? Don't let him see you and don't let it interfere with your work here, okay Dobby?" And Dobby wholeheartedly accepted the quest.

Harry made an effort to join in with his friends on their return to the common room. He was the captain afterall and with a newfound ally in his quest to figure Draco out, Harry felt just a bit lighter. He sang the Gryffindor chant and helped Ron and Dean hoist Ginny in the air, cheering for her as the best chaser in a decade. It was hard to imagine that this was just his team after tryouts. He couldn't imagine the rager they would throw when they won their first game.

Once the team had settled back around the fire, happily munching on their treats, Harry checked the map again; A pit formed in his stomach as he found Draco's footprints wandering the upper floors. Even with the promise of Dobby's help, Harry felt clueless. Draco's behavior was erratic and concerning and it seemed as if no one but Harry had even noticed the change. What could possibly be going on?

His worry only seemed to grow, following him through classes until he was sitting in potions staring at the empty seat next to him. Draco was late, of course. And as Slughorn began his opening monologue for the class, Harry worried he wouldn't show at all.

But as if on cue, the dungeon door opened and the blonde boy slid into his seat with an apologetic nod to Slughorn. Harry knew he was staring but it was hard not to. Draco looked terrible. Dark bags under his eyes stood out against his pale skin which was somehow even paler than usual; he looked fragile and Harry wondered if a single touch would be enough to break him.

"Hey."

"Hey-" Harry wasn't sure what to say, he'd hoped he'd be doing better after getting the burn medicine but it seemed like it hadn't made a difference; Whatever was eating away at him, had continued to do so. Draco didn't seem bothered by Harry's silence, laying his head against his arms on the desk. The urge to brush his fingers through the ghostly white hair was only superseded by the need to shake him awake and demand to know what he's been hiding.

The two boys didn't say much as they brought the first few ingredients to a boil. Harry desperately wanted to talk but they'd already discussed everything they'd needed to for the potion and any other subject of conversation was overshadowed by the worried questions buzzing around his mind.

"Do you have the asphodel beetles?" Draco asked, focused on his task of stirring the translucent liquid.

Harry nodded, handing him a container of the creepy little insects. "We're off to a pretty good start, I think."

"Yeah, I think so too."

Harry could feel himself grasping for anything to say. He just needed Draco to look at him. "You're pretty good at potions, yaknow that?"

"It's not hard to impress you, is it Potter?" There was a shadow of the old Draco in the words, and it made Harry smile.

"What's the most difficult potion you've made?" It was a question he'd asked months ago in their letters. Harry already knew the answer: veritaserum that he'd made with his father last Summer. But he also knew how much Draco loved potions and maybe it would get him talking.

"This one." No luck.

"No, you know what I mean." and then Draco looked at him, gray eyes gleaming in the lamplight. The cold gaze pinned Harry in place, making his breath hitch ever so slightly.

"Do I?"

It took Harry several seconds to realize that Draco was expecting an answer. He floundered, something he had done more in the last few weeks than ever in his life. "God, you're just being really quiet. It's freaking me out."

"Sorry for not providing enough stimulation for your dwindling attention span, Potter." He looked away, passing the stirring rod to Harry and opening the box of crawling red beetles. "Next time I'll bring some keys to jingle in front of your face."

Harry laughed and watched the potion bubble. If Draco didn't want to speak, there was no use forcing him to. Draco was possibly the most stubborn person Harry had ever met.

It turned out Harry didn't need to force him though. "What do you want me to talk about?" Draco's voice was soft, as if afraid a nearby table might overhear him.

Harry thought frantically for a topic, a little shocked at Draco's supposed willingness to cooperate. He eventually settled on something mundane, something that couldn't possibly get him into any more trouble with the boy. "How did the quidditch tryouts go for Slytherin?"

Draco sorted through the beetles, inspecting each one for the proper markings to indicate maturity. "I wasn't there so I wouldn't know. I assume they went well enough."

"But you're on the team?"

"Not anymore. I quit."

Harry gaped, a thousand more questions flooding into his mind. Draco loved flying. Not very long ago, you wouldn't have been able to pry him off that quidditch pitch. Even over the Summer, they'd chatted about how excited they both were to return to quidditch in the fall. What the fuck was going on?

But before he could start his barrage of questioning he noticed Draco holding a beetle down, about to chop the poor thing in half. Harry's hands moved before he could stop them, overlapping Draco's and turning the knife on its side. "My book says to crush them, not slice." Draco's skin was cool and smooth as Harry pulled back awkwardly. He longed to do it again and had the feeling that if he was allowed, touching Draco may become something of an addiction.

It wasn't until Harry looked back at Draco's face that he noticed the change. Face frozen in a grimace, his posture rigid: Draco looked terrified. And then he nodded, his body relaxing in an instant as if it had never happened. But Harry had seen and couldn't help but look down at his own hands that caused such a distressed reaction. He couldn't help but think that Hermione might be wrong. Draco might hate him after all if such a small touch had caused such a visceral revulsion.

Harry made sure to give him space after that. Completing his tasks with a quiet efficiency that mirrored Draco's own focus. It was the best he could do, as he feared another failed attempt at conversation would break him. He felt on the verge of tears as it was, replaying Draco's reaction to his touch over and over in his head.

"It's looking good." Draco said, stirring the potion one last time and adjusting the heat underneath. "I'll check it tomorrow, you've got Thursday and then we'll finish the rest of the ingredients Friday night." He looked up for confirmation and Harry nodded sharply.

"You won't be in class on Thursday then?" Harry tried not to let his disappointment show.

"Nah. I trust you." Draco smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Besides, I've got other things to do." Harry nodded, feeling the dread building in his stomach as he watched him gather his things and walk away. Harry wanted to shout, run after him, do something, but he let him go, watching as the familiar blond hair disappeared from the dungeon classroom.

Harry could no longer answer truthfully about not keeping track of Draco because he was now very much keeping track of Draco. Stalking may be a better word for it, but with the notebook of information stored in his pocket, tracking felt more accurate. He noted every meal that Draco attended as well as every class he was late to of the two periods they shared. Dobby had informed him that Draco spent most of his time in the room of requirement and when Harry heard that, he felt quite foolish. Of course he was in the room of requirement. It was the only place in Hogwarts that didn't show up on the map.

He didn't quite know what he was planning to do with the information. But with so little power to change the situation, writing things down was the best distraction he had for the panic he felt each time Draco left his field of vision. Maybe if he graphed Draco's habits well enough, all the pieces would click into place; Maybe things would start to get better for him; Maybe Harry could understand what had changed.

They were feeble hopes but it was the best he could do to cling to them as he made his way to the dungeon Friday night. He'd tried to focus his energy into the mystery of it all, refusing to dwell on how poorly Harry felt he was doing in bridging the gap between them.

Draco was already there when Harry entered the classroom. He hadn't bothered to light the torches and thus was sat in the dark, illuminated only by the subtle glow of the dozen boilers left running from the other students' potions. Harry coughed, not wanting to startle him.

"Hey Draco," They were alone and allowed to be here so he wasn't sure why he whispered his greeting. Something about the dark room he assumed. "Is there a reason the lights are off?" Draco looked at him, shrugging.

"Not really." His voice sounded pensive and Harry had the feeling he'd interrupted a train of thought.

Harry took his seat, deciding if Draco wanted to sit in the dark, Harry would oblige. Draco could ask for pretty much anything and Harry would do it if he was honest with himself. "...So how's it going?"

"I haven't started yet."

"Oh, yeah. Well that's good. We don't actually have to do anything for another twenty minutes."

Draco looked over, clearly irritated, the fire casting long shadows over his face. "Then why did you tell me to be here now?"

"Um, well, you're usually late. So I figured-"

"And you're usually a fucking twat." Draco interrupted him but the insult didn't have much impact as the boy's shoulders slumped almost immediately after the words left his mouth. "God, I'm sorry."

"You alright?"

Draco sighed, running both of his hands through his hair. "Yeah."

"Hey, it's okay to not be alright." Harry desperately wanted him to talk. Tell me what's going on. Please.

"I'm just tired." It looked to be an understatement but Harry didn't say that. "Er, I have something for you." Draco rummaged in his bag, a warm pink light suddenly illuminating the space.

Harry gaped as a small glowing jar was set before him. "Thank you. For the burn cream. It- It really helped." and then Harry recognized the jar as the one he'd given to Draco the week before, but the orange salve had been replaced with three tiny… fireflies? Harry wasn't sure what he was looking at.

"What are-"

"They're called firelights. They're magic, here-" Draco opened the jar and Harry jumped as the three dots sprung free, growing to the size of golf balls and getting steadily brighter. They hovered in the air above the two boys, each one casting its own glow over the room. The magic twisted and writhed as the fire slowly split, wings forming until three flaming butterflies flitted gracefully above them.

Harry gaped, unable to tear his eyes away from the subtle movements of the creatures and the ever changing pattern of the fire. They were beautiful. When he finally looked back at Draco, he realized the blond boy looked nervous, maybe even a little insecure and was waiting for a verdict on the gift.

"Draco, how-" He stopped, already changing his mind on his reaction. "I don't know what to say. They're beautiful!"

"I just… I appreciated your help."

Harry suppressed the urge to explain how Draco had only been injured because of him and owed him literally nothing. But he already knew how that conversation would go. "Thank you."

Draco looked up at the butterflies, the pink light dancing off his pale skin. He seemed alive and vibrant and Harry might have been imagining it, but his lips twitched upward in a shy smile. In that moment, Harry would have given anything to lean forward and kiss him.

"Oh, and here-" Draco circled his finger around the rim of the glass and the butterflies flew down, shrinking back into their small buds of light until they were safely entrapped in the jar and the lid was replaced. "Easy storage." The room was dark again, and Harry could hardly make out Draco's face as his eyes adjusted.

"Can I- Do you mind if we leave them out?"

"Sure." Draco opened the jar again watching his little pieces of magic blossom back into their shape. Harry wasn't watching the butterflies though, eyes fixed on the boy in front of him. The boy who folded origami and charmed it to fly, who was so careful with his secrets and kind in his own way. The boy who loved quidditch and made beautiful things. He was still here and Harry loved him. And he'd be damned if he let whatever this was go without a fight.