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Description
Title: Hey There Draco
Chapter Title: What Happens Next?
Author: Ruby13b
Summary: Set in the summer after 5th year.
Warnings: Adult Language, Sexual Content, Violence.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am owned by no one.

This is a Harry/Draco fanfiction. Meaning boy/boy. If you don't like don't read! That is all.

It had been three days, seven hours, thirty-two minutes and forty-five seconds since Draco had arrived at the Order of the Phoenix. Yes, it had been that long and he was already going out of his mind. Harry Potter could not seem to leave him alone. He showed up in whatever room Draco happened to be in. He would never even say much. In fact Harry and Draco had not had another conversation like they’d had on the first night. It seemed that it had been following that conversation when Harry had first started following Draco around like some sort of lost puppy. Harry would simply come into the room, find a place to sit down, and stare at Draco until the rest of his entourage showed up. And the entourage would always come, too, without fail. Draco would then get up and leave the room and go into another one. He would only be in that room by himself for a few minutes before Harry showed up, and the cycle then started all over again.

Draco looked over at Harry’s sleeping form. Why couldn’t he leave well enough alone? Draco sighed and thought longingly of his bathtub at his home. He pined to take a long bath and have some peace and quiet. Come to think of it, Draco hadn’t had a bath or shower since Snape had made him wash up before delivering him to this god-forsaken place. Two days! Two days since Draco’d had a proper shower. He had never gone that long without a shower in his life.

Getting up as quietly as he could, Draco slipped out of the room, walked down the hallway and went into the bathroom. It was very early in the morning and the house was quiet and still. Draco hoped that it would be many hours before the rest of the house woke up. But he knew that was wishful thinking on his part and too much to hope for.

The shower in this bathroom was rather large; not quite as big as the ones in Malfoy Manor, but then again, the Blacks had never been as well off as the Malfoys. Though the Black fortune was nothing to laugh at . . . Draco vaguely wondered what had happened to the Black money. Then he realized that he really didn’t care.

Draco turned on the water, waiting for the water to run warm before stepping in.  He sighed as the warmth hit his sore muscles. Draco peered closely at the bruises on his right arm. He then ran his fingers over the ones that were on his chest and stomach. Draco sighed again, letting his hands drop down to his sides. He was unable to believe everything that had happened to him a mere couple of days ago. It seemed so distant, like a far off dream, like something that had not been real. But it had been real. It had been too real. Draco shut his eyes as tightly as he could, clenching his fists at his sides and trying to block the memory from his own mind. He took a deep, shuddering breath as tears slipped out of his eyes, running down his cheeks and washing away down the drain. Maybe if he told himself it wasn’t real enough times he would be able to make it go away.

Draco’s eyes flashed open as he heard the door open.  Someone stepped through the door and shut it softly behind them. The distinctive sound of the bolt being slid back soon followed. Draco began to panic as realized that whoever or whatever was in the room was now locked in with him. What if it was a Death Eater? What if it was someone else who wanted to do him harm? There was no way out. He was as good as dead. A moment later the curtain pulled back and a very naked Harry Potter stepped in, wincing as the warm water hit his body.

Two emotions passed through Draco when he saw Harry. The first was relief that it was only Harry and not someone who wanted to hurt him, but the second was embarrassment at Harry seeing him without his clothes.

“Potter!” Draco exclaimed indignantly, trying to cover himself up with his hands.

“What?” Harry asked.

“What in the world do you think you’re doing?” Draco demanded.

“Taking a shower,” Harry said simply. “I thought that was obvious.”

“I meant why are you in here now? Can’t you wait until I’m finished?’

“No. Pass the soap, will you?”

“POTTER, GET OUT!” Draco shrieked.

Harry cocked his head at him. “Mrs. Weasley told us that we have to double up because of a water limitation. Didn’t she tell you?”

“No,” Draco growled. “She must have passed over that happy piece of information.”

“Oh, well, there it is,” Harry said cheerfully. “Now will you hand me the soap?”

Draco began to panic again slightly. “Potter,” he choked. “No one has ever seen me without my clothes.”

Harry, who had retrieved the soap without Draco’s help and had begun washing his arms, stopped and looked up at Draco.

“Never?” he asked incredulously.

“Never,” Draco repeated firmly.

“Your parents?”

“Not since I was a baby.”

“What about in the Quidditch locker room?”

“I always changed away from everyone else and waited until everyone was gone before I showered.”

“The dorm room?”

“No.”

“Never?”

“NEVER!” Draco shouted. His voice filled the small bathroom.

Harry was silent for a moment before he asked, “So, I’m the first?”

Draco heaved a huge sigh, wrapping his arm around his stomach in what seemed like a defensive gesture. “It appears so, Potter. Now get out!” Draco roared.

There was a sudden knock at the door and Mrs. Weasley’s voice called through, “Boys? Boys, I hope you are not fighting in there.” Mrs. Weasley continued, somewhat sternly, “Finish up. Fred and George have the shower next. Hermione and Ginny are after them. And I better make sure Ron is getting up. He has the shower after the girls.”

The sound of Mrs. Weasley bustling away echoed down the hallway. Harry and Draco were left alone staring at each other. Draco’s drenched hair covered his eyes, which suddenly became dark.

“There are an odd number of boys here,” Draco said, in a threateningly calm voice.

“Errr…yes?” Harry said. He began backing up until he hit the wall of the shower. Draco advanced slowly towards him.

“Meaning one of the boys gets to shower alone,” Draco continued. His voice was almost too calm, but his eyes had a very unsettling glint in them.

“Errr…yes?” Harry repeated. Yes, Harry Potter had just made his last fatal mistake, and he knew it.

“And that boy could have been me if you had just waited and showered with your own bloody best friend.” Draco pushed his body right up against Harry’s, his breath ghosting over Harry’s face . . . his lips far too close to Harry’s for comfort’s sake.

“Errr…yes?” Harry’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

Draco leaned in, placing his mouth against Harry’s ear.

“I’m going to fucking murder you, Potter,” Draco growled.

                                                       ~~~

How Harry Potter had managed to escape from the seething Draco Malfoy unhurt, unscathed, and completely fine, and how he had managed to keep his distance the entire day, was a mystery. Harry quickly left any room Draco entered, and Draco would wait for a few moments before following suit. The whole household had noticed the strange game the boys seemed to be playing and everyone was either too polite to say anything or they were simply too confused to say anything.

It wasn’t until later that night, when Harry had been forced to go to bed, that he and Draco were in the same room together for more than a moment.

“I’m sorry!” Harry cried upon entering the room. “I’m sorry, please don’t kill me.”

Draco, who had been sitting on his bed, looked up at Harry, anger and annoyance lacing his eyes. He then sighed. It really wasn’t worth the trouble of being angry. In the long run, what did it really matter anyway? So Harry Potter had seen him naked. Draco had seen Harry naked, too, so he supposed they were even. Draco curled up on his side on his bed, his back facing Harry. Draco was too tired to fight. Draco was too tired to do anything but lie there.

“It’s alright, Potter,” he said softly. “Let it go.”

Harry was shocked by Draco’s sudden quietness, but he said nothing and sat down on his bed, staring at Draco’s back.

“Please stop looking at me,” Draco said.

Harry was startled. How did Draco know he had been staring?

“Sorry.”

Harry stretched out on his bed. He couldn’t help it as he stole another glance at Draco’s back. Draco’s shoulders were shaking. Was he crying? There was a time that Harry would cry, too, when he saw someone crying. But now, he knew he felt sadness, but he couldn’t cry. Harry didn’t know when he had lost his ability to cry. Maybe he had cried so much over Sirius that he had gotten sick of it. Even in the past when he did cry, it was never in front of anyone. He had to be strong. He couldn’t show that kind of weakness. Though he didn’t condemn others for crying, it just wasn’t something he could do in front of people. He cried alone. But since he had lost the capacity to cry, it really wasn’t a problem anymore. He still felt everything and it still hurt, but not in the same way. It was like he could distance himself from reality. He wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or not.

Harry felt like he wanted to comfort Draco somehow, but he didn’t know what to do. He never seemed to know what to do when it concerned Draco. Harry didn’t know why he was such a sucker for someone in trouble. He had always had this rather horrible habit of picking up strays. Be it stray animals or people, he couldn’t help himself from wanting to help. He hated seeing others unhappy. No matter who it was, he hated seeing someone cry.

“Draco?” Harry asked softly.

“What now, Potter?” Draco choked. It didn’t escape him that Harry had used his first name. Draco didn’t know how he felt about that.

“I wish I knew what I could do to help you,” Harry said, in a voice that was barely audible.

Draco had caught every word.

“Why do you have to help me?” Draco finally answered. “Why do you have to save me? Just because you’re Harry Potter doesn’t mean you can save everyone.”

“You’re right, of course,” Harry said after a moment. “If I were able to save everyone, Sirius would have never died.”

Draco didn’t have anything to say to that, so he didn’t say anything at all. His own pain was still too near and it seemed to mix with Harry’s, giving the room a very heavy feeling. Draco rolled over to his other side, facing Harry. Harry blinked as they came face to face, but he said nothing more.

Draco’s eyes raked over Harry, taking him in entirely. They were both hurting so much, and there was nothing either one of them could do about it alone. Perhaps…it was a long shot, but maybe together they could sort something out. Maybe together they could live again.

Draco was at a loss as to what to do. He had always had trouble being close to others, and he had never had a true friend in his life. Draco had always had minions, yes, but that wasn’t the same thing as friends. It seemed like Harry had far too many friends. How was Draco ever to be one of them? How could he ever be special in Harry Potter’s eyes? No, it was impossible. Harry had already rejected him once. He would never accept him. It was just not meant to be. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were just not meant to be friends. They were meant to hate each other. They, in fact, did hate each other. Though Draco couldn’t remember why. Draco had always been horrible to Harry, and Harry had always treated Draco in the same way. That’s just the way it was.

On the other side of the room, Harry was also deep in thought. He was thinking of Sirius. It seemed that he thought of Sirius a lot. But it was at night that Harry thought about him the most. He remembered his smile and his warmth. Harry remembered how Sirius’  eyes lit up when he saw Harry, as if Harry was the most special person in the world to him. Sirius hadn’t been a perfect person, but he had been a good godfather, and he had been a good friend. It pained Harry to think that Sirius had wasted twelve years of his life in Azkaban, only to die so few years after he had escaped. It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair that Sirius wasted his life, and it certainly wasn’t fair that he was now dead.

Harry suddenly realized that he had been absentmindedly staring at Draco as he thought over Sirius. Draco, Harry found, was staring right back at him. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Draco beat him to it.

“I think I’ve probably lost my heart,” Draco said, somewhat sadly.

OK. That was a rather odd thing to say. Then again, Draco Malfoy was sometimes a very strange boy.

“You haven’t lost your heart,” Harry said firmly.

“You’re right, of course. It’s impossible to lose something you never had.”

“That’s not funny. I don’t want to hear you talking about yourself that way.” Harry really was sick of people putting themselves down all of the time. Sirius had done it constantly last year, and that was only because he felt like he wasn’t being enough use to Harry. Sirius would never know that by just being himself, Sirius had done more than anyone had ever done for Harry.

“Why do you even care? You hate me,” Draco reminded Harry.

“Hate is a little bit too strong. Let’s just say I strongly dislike you.” Harry’s tone was joking, and Draco couldn’t help but smile a little. It was the first smile he’d had in days. He hid it from Harry, though.

Harry had been watching Draco carefully, and saw the hidden smile. Maybe Draco wasn’t such a bad person, after all. The vague plan that had been festering in the back of Harry’s mind suddenly sprang into focus. And Draco Malfoy was the only one who could help Harry with it. Now, how could Harry convince him? Harry had always been the straight-forward, all-the-cards- -on-the-table sort of person, so he decided to ask Draco right out.

“Draco,” Harry started, “I was wondering if you would help me?” There. That was straight- forward, though a little vague.

“Help you with what?” Draco asked. He was intrigued, and he didn’t know why Harry was asking him to help rather than asking one of his friends.

“It’s a bit awkward, really,” Harry said, “and I don’t really want anyone to know.”

“There’s no way I can help you if you don’t tell me what I’m supposed to do,” Draco told him. That was true enough. Draco was tired of playing games. Whatever Harry needed, Draco wanted him to tell without ceremony.

“I meant everyone else. Ron, Hermione, all the adults. Especially the adults. I don’t want them to know. And I thought that it might be something more familiar to you.”

Draco sat up in his bed. He didn’t like the sound of that. “It’s a Dark Art, isn’t it?”

“I think it might be,” Harry admitted. Harry wasn’t quite certain himself. He supposed that it most likely was a Dark Art. Though he really hoped it wasn’t.

“You want to learn the Dark Arts,” Draco stated. There was no way in Hell that Draco Malfoy was going to teach Harry Potter any of the Dark Arts. If they were found out Draco would be thrown into Azkaban. Well, at least he would get to see his father again.

“No, no!” Harry said quickly. Draco relaxed and lay back down, propping himself up on one elbow. “Not learn. There’s just something I want you to help me research.”

“Wouldn’t Granger be more suitable for researching something?” Draco asked. Hermione really was better suited for something like this; she was smarter, after all. Draco could admit that much. Draco was intelligent, too, but his marks in school had always been second to those of Hermione Granger.

“Maybe,” Harry said. It was apparent that this was making him uncomfortable. “But like I said, I would rather nobody else know what I’m doing.” Draco didn’t answer so Harry pressed on. “So? Will you help me?”

“Where are we going to do this research? We’re not allowed out.”

“There’s a Library next to the drawing room,” Harry answered eagerly.

“We have not been given permission to be in that room,” Draco pointed out.

“We were also not told that we can’t be in that room.”

Draco sighed. “I’m not going to get rid of you, am I?”

“Not likely,” Harry answered, cheekily. Draco could see his grin in the darkness.

“Very well, Potter,” Draco agreed. “I will assist you. There’s nothing better to do around here, anyway.”

“Thank you, Malfoy,” Harry said. He was still smiling. But then his smile faded. “But that’s another thing.”

“What?”

“We ought to start calling each other by our first names,” Harry said. “Last names seem so impersonal sometimes.”

“Don’t you think first names might be a little too intimate?” Draco asked, raising his eyebrow. Harry didn’t answer, and Draco could make out the determined look on Harry’s face. Draco sighed. “Very well, Harry. Have it your way.”

“Thanks, Draco,” Harry said. He turned over on his back, looking up at the ceiling. In the bed next to him, Draco was looking up at the ceiling, too. Things were getting interesting. Draco smiled and didn’t bother trying to hide his smile, this time. For the first time in days, Draco couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

Description
Title: Hey There Draco
Chapter Title: What Happens Next?
Author: Ruby13b
Summary: Set in the summer after 5th year.
Warnings: Adult Language, Sexual Content, Violence.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am owned by no one.

This is a Harry/Draco fanfiction. Meaning boy/boy. If you don't like don't read! That is all.

It had been three days, seven hours, thirty-two minutes and forty-five seconds since Draco had arrived at the Order of the Phoenix. Yes, it had been that long and he was already going out of his mind. Harry Potter could not seem to leave him alone. He showed up in whatever room Draco happened to be in. He would never even say much. In fact Harry and Draco had not had another conversation like they’d had on the first night. It seemed that it had been following that conversation when Harry had first started following Draco around like some sort of lost puppy. Harry would simply come into the room, find a place to sit down, and stare at Draco until the rest of his entourage showed up. And the entourage would always come, too, without fail. Draco would then get up and leave the room and go into another one. He would only be in that room by himself for a few minutes before Harry showed up, and the cycle then started all over again.

Draco looked over at Harry’s sleeping form. Why couldn’t he leave well enough alone? Draco sighed and thought longingly of his bathtub at his home. He pined to take a long bath and have some peace and quiet. Come to think of it, Draco hadn’t had a bath or shower since Snape had made him wash up before delivering him to this god-forsaken place. Two days! Two days since Draco’d had a proper shower. He had never gone that long without a shower in his life.

Getting up as quietly as he could, Draco slipped out of the room, walked down the hallway and went into the bathroom. It was very early in the morning and the house was quiet and still. Draco hoped that it would be many hours before the rest of the house woke up. But he knew that was wishful thinking on his part and too much to hope for.

The shower in this bathroom was rather large; not quite as big as the ones in Malfoy Manor, but then again, the Blacks had never been as well off as the Malfoys. Though the Black fortune was nothing to laugh at . . . Draco vaguely wondered what had happened to the Black money. Then he realized that he really didn’t care.

Draco turned on the water, waiting for the water to run warm before stepping in.  He sighed as the warmth hit his sore muscles. Draco peered closely at the bruises on his right arm. He then ran his fingers over the ones that were on his chest and stomach. Draco sighed again, letting his hands drop down to his sides. He was unable to believe everything that had happened to him a mere couple of days ago. It seemed so distant, like a far off dream, like something that had not been real. But it had been real. It had been too real. Draco shut his eyes as tightly as he could, clenching his fists at his sides and trying to block the memory from his own mind. He took a deep, shuddering breath as tears slipped out of his eyes, running down his cheeks and washing away down the drain. Maybe if he told himself it wasn’t real enough times he would be able to make it go away.

Draco’s eyes flashed open as he heard the door open.  Someone stepped through the door and shut it softly behind them. The distinctive sound of the bolt being slid back soon followed. Draco began to panic as realized that whoever or whatever was in the room was now locked in with him. What if it was a Death Eater? What if it was someone else who wanted to do him harm? There was no way out. He was as good as dead. A moment later the curtain pulled back and a very naked Harry Potter stepped in, wincing as the warm water hit his body.

Two emotions passed through Draco when he saw Harry. The first was relief that it was only Harry and not someone who wanted to hurt him, but the second was embarrassment at Harry seeing him without his clothes.

“Potter!” Draco exclaimed indignantly, trying to cover himself up with his hands.

“What?” Harry asked.

“What in the world do you think you’re doing?” Draco demanded.

“Taking a shower,” Harry said simply. “I thought that was obvious.”

“I meant why are you in here now? Can’t you wait until I’m finished?’

“No. Pass the soap, will you?”

“POTTER, GET OUT!” Draco shrieked.

Harry cocked his head at him. “Mrs. Weasley told us that we have to double up because of a water limitation. Didn’t she tell you?”

“No,” Draco growled. “She must have passed over that happy piece of information.”

“Oh, well, there it is,” Harry said cheerfully. “Now will you hand me the soap?”

Draco began to panic again slightly. “Potter,” he choked. “No one has ever seen me without my clothes.”

Harry, who had retrieved the soap without Draco’s help and had begun washing his arms, stopped and looked up at Draco.

“Never?” he asked incredulously.

“Never,” Draco repeated firmly.

“Your parents?”

“Not since I was a baby.”

“What about in the Quidditch locker room?”

“I always changed away from everyone else and waited until everyone was gone before I showered.”

“The dorm room?”

“No.”

“Never?”

“NEVER!” Draco shouted. His voice filled the small bathroom.

Harry was silent for a moment before he asked, “So, I’m the first?”

Draco heaved a huge sigh, wrapping his arm around his stomach in what seemed like a defensive gesture. “It appears so, Potter. Now get out!” Draco roared.

There was a sudden knock at the door and Mrs. Weasley’s voice called through, “Boys? Boys, I hope you are not fighting in there.” Mrs. Weasley continued, somewhat sternly, “Finish up. Fred and George have the shower next. Hermione and Ginny are after them. And I better make sure Ron is getting up. He has the shower after the girls.”

The sound of Mrs. Weasley bustling away echoed down the hallway. Harry and Draco were left alone staring at each other. Draco’s drenched hair covered his eyes, which suddenly became dark.

“There are an odd number of boys here,” Draco said, in a threateningly calm voice.

“Errr…yes?” Harry said. He began backing up until he hit the wall of the shower. Draco advanced slowly towards him.

“Meaning one of the boys gets to shower alone,” Draco continued. His voice was almost too calm, but his eyes had a very unsettling glint in them.

“Errr…yes?” Harry repeated. Yes, Harry Potter had just made his last fatal mistake, and he knew it.

“And that boy could have been me if you had just waited and showered with your own bloody best friend.” Draco pushed his body right up against Harry’s, his breath ghosting over Harry’s face . . . his lips far too close to Harry’s for comfort’s sake.

“Errr…yes?” Harry’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

Draco leaned in, placing his mouth against Harry’s ear.

“I’m going to fucking murder you, Potter,” Draco growled.

                                                       ~~~

How Harry Potter had managed to escape from the seething Draco Malfoy unhurt, unscathed, and completely fine, and how he had managed to keep his distance the entire day, was a mystery. Harry quickly left any room Draco entered, and Draco would wait for a few moments before following suit. The whole household had noticed the strange game the boys seemed to be playing and everyone was either too polite to say anything or they were simply too confused to say anything.

It wasn’t until later that night, when Harry had been forced to go to bed, that he and Draco were in the same room together for more than a moment.

“I’m sorry!” Harry cried upon entering the room. “I’m sorry, please don’t kill me.”

Draco, who had been sitting on his bed, looked up at Harry, anger and annoyance lacing his eyes. He then sighed. It really wasn’t worth the trouble of being angry. In the long run, what did it really matter anyway? So Harry Potter had seen him naked. Draco had seen Harry naked, too, so he supposed they were even. Draco curled up on his side on his bed, his back facing Harry. Draco was too tired to fight. Draco was too tired to do anything but lie there.

“It’s alright, Potter,” he said softly. “Let it go.”

Harry was shocked by Draco’s sudden quietness, but he said nothing and sat down on his bed, staring at Draco’s back.

“Please stop looking at me,” Draco said.

Harry was startled. How did Draco know he had been staring?

“Sorry.”

Harry stretched out on his bed. He couldn’t help it as he stole another glance at Draco’s back. Draco’s shoulders were shaking. Was he crying? There was a time that Harry would cry, too, when he saw someone crying. But now, he knew he felt sadness, but he couldn’t cry. Harry didn’t know when he had lost his ability to cry. Maybe he had cried so much over Sirius that he had gotten sick of it. Even in the past when he did cry, it was never in front of anyone. He had to be strong. He couldn’t show that kind of weakness. Though he didn’t condemn others for crying, it just wasn’t something he could do in front of people. He cried alone. But since he had lost the capacity to cry, it really wasn’t a problem anymore. He still felt everything and it still hurt, but not in the same way. It was like he could distance himself from reality. He wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or not.

Harry felt like he wanted to comfort Draco somehow, but he didn’t know what to do. He never seemed to know what to do when it concerned Draco. Harry didn’t know why he was such a sucker for someone in trouble. He had always had this rather horrible habit of picking up strays. Be it stray animals or people, he couldn’t help himself from wanting to help. He hated seeing others unhappy. No matter who it was, he hated seeing someone cry.

“Draco?” Harry asked softly.

“What now, Potter?” Draco choked. It didn’t escape him that Harry had used his first name. Draco didn’t know how he felt about that.

“I wish I knew what I could do to help you,” Harry said, in a voice that was barely audible.

Draco had caught every word.

“Why do you have to help me?” Draco finally answered. “Why do you have to save me? Just because you’re Harry Potter doesn’t mean you can save everyone.”

“You’re right, of course,” Harry said after a moment. “If I were able to save everyone, Sirius would have never died.”

Draco didn’t have anything to say to that, so he didn’t say anything at all. His own pain was still too near and it seemed to mix with Harry’s, giving the room a very heavy feeling. Draco rolled over to his other side, facing Harry. Harry blinked as they came face to face, but he said nothing more.

Draco’s eyes raked over Harry, taking him in entirely. They were both hurting so much, and there was nothing either one of them could do about it alone. Perhaps…it was a long shot, but maybe together they could sort something out. Maybe together they could live again.

Draco was at a loss as to what to do. He had always had trouble being close to others, and he had never had a true friend in his life. Draco had always had minions, yes, but that wasn’t the same thing as friends. It seemed like Harry had far too many friends. How was Draco ever to be one of them? How could he ever be special in Harry Potter’s eyes? No, it was impossible. Harry had already rejected him once. He would never accept him. It was just not meant to be. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were just not meant to be friends. They were meant to hate each other. They, in fact, did hate each other. Though Draco couldn’t remember why. Draco had always been horrible to Harry, and Harry had always treated Draco in the same way. That’s just the way it was.

On the other side of the room, Harry was also deep in thought. He was thinking of Sirius. It seemed that he thought of Sirius a lot. But it was at night that Harry thought about him the most. He remembered his smile and his warmth. Harry remembered how Sirius’  eyes lit up when he saw Harry, as if Harry was the most special person in the world to him. Sirius hadn’t been a perfect person, but he had been a good godfather, and he had been a good friend. It pained Harry to think that Sirius had wasted twelve years of his life in Azkaban, only to die so few years after he had escaped. It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair that Sirius wasted his life, and it certainly wasn’t fair that he was now dead.

Harry suddenly realized that he had been absentmindedly staring at Draco as he thought over Sirius. Draco, Harry found, was staring right back at him. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Draco beat him to it.

“I think I’ve probably lost my heart,” Draco said, somewhat sadly.

OK. That was a rather odd thing to say. Then again, Draco Malfoy was sometimes a very strange boy.

“You haven’t lost your heart,” Harry said firmly.

“You’re right, of course. It’s impossible to lose something you never had.”

“That’s not funny. I don’t want to hear you talking about yourself that way.” Harry really was sick of people putting themselves down all of the time. Sirius had done it constantly last year, and that was only because he felt like he wasn’t being enough use to Harry. Sirius would never know that by just being himself, Sirius had done more than anyone had ever done for Harry.

“Why do you even care? You hate me,” Draco reminded Harry.

“Hate is a little bit too strong. Let’s just say I strongly dislike you.” Harry’s tone was joking, and Draco couldn’t help but smile a little. It was the first smile he’d had in days. He hid it from Harry, though.

Harry had been watching Draco carefully, and saw the hidden smile. Maybe Draco wasn’t such a bad person, after all. The vague plan that had been festering in the back of Harry’s mind suddenly sprang into focus. And Draco Malfoy was the only one who could help Harry with it. Now, how could Harry convince him? Harry had always been the straight-forward, all-the-cards- -on-the-table sort of person, so he decided to ask Draco right out.

“Draco,” Harry started, “I was wondering if you would help me?” There. That was straight- forward, though a little vague.

“Help you with what?” Draco asked. He was intrigued, and he didn’t know why Harry was asking him to help rather than asking one of his friends.

“It’s a bit awkward, really,” Harry said, “and I don’t really want anyone to know.”

“There’s no way I can help you if you don’t tell me what I’m supposed to do,” Draco told him. That was true enough. Draco was tired of playing games. Whatever Harry needed, Draco wanted him to tell without ceremony.

“I meant everyone else. Ron, Hermione, all the adults. Especially the adults. I don’t want them to know. And I thought that it might be something more familiar to you.”

Draco sat up in his bed. He didn’t like the sound of that. “It’s a Dark Art, isn’t it?”

“I think it might be,” Harry admitted. Harry wasn’t quite certain himself. He supposed that it most likely was a Dark Art. Though he really hoped it wasn’t.

“You want to learn the Dark Arts,” Draco stated. There was no way in Hell that Draco Malfoy was going to teach Harry Potter any of the Dark Arts. If they were found out Draco would be thrown into Azkaban. Well, at least he would get to see his father again.

“No, no!” Harry said quickly. Draco relaxed and lay back down, propping himself up on one elbow. “Not learn. There’s just something I want you to help me research.”

“Wouldn’t Granger be more suitable for researching something?” Draco asked. Hermione really was better suited for something like this; she was smarter, after all. Draco could admit that much. Draco was intelligent, too, but his marks in school had always been second to those of Hermione Granger.

“Maybe,” Harry said. It was apparent that this was making him uncomfortable. “But like I said, I would rather nobody else know what I’m doing.” Draco didn’t answer so Harry pressed on. “So? Will you help me?”

“Where are we going to do this research? We’re not allowed out.”

“There’s a Library next to the drawing room,” Harry answered eagerly.

“We have not been given permission to be in that room,” Draco pointed out.

“We were also not told that we can’t be in that room.”

Draco sighed. “I’m not going to get rid of you, am I?”

“Not likely,” Harry answered, cheekily. Draco could see his grin in the darkness.

“Very well, Potter,” Draco agreed. “I will assist you. There’s nothing better to do around here, anyway.”

“Thank you, Malfoy,” Harry said. He was still smiling. But then his smile faded. “But that’s another thing.”

“What?”

“We ought to start calling each other by our first names,” Harry said. “Last names seem so impersonal sometimes.”

“Don’t you think first names might be a little too intimate?” Draco asked, raising his eyebrow. Harry didn’t answer, and Draco could make out the determined look on Harry’s face. Draco sighed. “Very well, Harry. Have it your way.”

“Thanks, Draco,” Harry said. He turned over on his back, looking up at the ceiling. In the bed next to him, Draco was looking up at the ceiling, too. Things were getting interesting. Draco smiled and didn’t bother trying to hide his smile, this time. For the first time in days, Draco couldn’t wait to see what happened next.