Yesterday

"I don't know about you, but I'm thoroughly confused." Harry stared at his plate in a perplexed fashion, as though somewhere beneath its surface the answers laid.

"Maybe there's more to Malfoy than we thought." Hermione glanced at Harry thoughtfully.

Ron was still upset about yesterday and squeaked loudly at random intervals; he was often in deep thought about something that was troubling him deeply. Harry could only guess at what it was and really hoped Ron would move on before ever mentioning it, but, sadly, what you wish for doesn't always come true.

"Harry." Ron took in a deep breath and winced. "Is there something you need to tell us?"

Harry looked at him, puzzled. "No."

"Are you sure?" Hermione shot a scathing glare in Ron's direction as he prattled on. Still confused, Harry continued in a completely naïve manner.

"I'm pretty sure I have nothing to tell you." Harry rolled his eyes and went back to eating his breakfast.

"Because," Ron took another deep breath, "I just want you to know that I support you, even though I may not like it-."

"Ron!" Harry's face twisted with disgust and realization as he yelled, quite rudely, though still deservingly, at his best friend. "I don't have a thing for Malfoy!"

Ron scrunched up his eyes and continued as though he hadn't heard a thing. "I mean, as far as blokes go, Malfoy's not that bad."

"What!" Harry's face paled and Ron went beet red.

"Well, I mean...um..."

"What Ron's trying to say, is that if you have any...feelings, Harry, you can talk to us."

"Nothing happened!" he exploded, glaring at each of his friends in turn. "I don't understand why neither of you will believe me when I tell you that. It's not like it's hard to imagine me not liking Malfoy." A sudden paranoia began to seep into his veins as he saw his friends sheepishly averting their eyes to the floor. "What's going on?" He looked at each of them in turn, wanting, needing an answer.

"We just don't want you to feel alone," Hermione said, flicking her eyes up to his. "Especially not now, not with all that's going on with Voldemort." Harry looked at Ron and he nodded in agreement. "Harry, these are hard times for everyone, and if there's any chance you're going through something that might make it harder, we want to help you." Harry surveyed them guiltily, a small, pleading smile across his lips.

"I'm sorry, guys, I shouldn't have acted like that; you were only trying to help."

"No problem, mate." Ron clapped him on the shoulder. "I would have gone bonkers too if someone had said I had a thing for that git." Ron and Harry exchanged smiles and the conversation was quickly turned towards Quidditch.

***

Draco fumed silently as he stood in front of his professor. His arms were folded tightly and a frown creased his face significantly.

"Would you like to tell me what, exactly, you were thinking?" If Draco's frown was thought to be formidable, it was nothing compared to the one his Potions master wore. After a short silence Snape raised his brow. "Well?" Draco mumbled something incoherently. "I don't have time for your games; speak up or leave."

"Well then, I guess I'll leave." Draco turned and walked to the door, which promptly slammed shut in his face.

"Get back here, Malfoy; I'm not finished with you." Draco ground his teeth for a moment before obeying. He stood and glared at Snape. "Now tell me what you were doing in the hospital wing with Mr. Potter."

"You've heard the story."

"Well then, care to explain why you didn't bring him somewhere more useful, say, to me?" Draco scanned the floor and Snape impatiently urged him on. "I'm waiting."

"I don't know," he replied quickly, not taking his eyes off of the floor. "I could have brought him to you, I could have done a number of things, I certainly thought about them, but I didn't."

Draco looked up at Snape with pleading eyes that begged for answers. "I tried to tell myself I did it so that the Dark Lord could kill him, but if that was true I would have brought him to you." He stopped for a moment and resigned himself, seeming to draw inward as he once again looked at the floor, seeing something that wasn't there. "I saw something, or, rather, felt it. I felt like I knew something, something to do with him; it was like I'd seen him in that position so many times before: lying on his back, completely helpless, and all I wanted to do was make it go away. It felt like I was hurting too. Like it hurt me that he was in pain; all I wanted to do was make it stop." He faded off into silence before looking up at his professor, his eyes sharp and piercing. "For me; I wanted to help him for me; so it wouldn't hurt anymore."

Snape stayed silent throughout the whole exchange and showed no change in emotion from what he had just heard. He seemed unsurprised, like he'd almost expected that answer. "Did it go away?"

Draco had been peering off into his unseen world again, thinking things through, and was shocked out of his reverie. "Did what go away?"

"The pain."

Draco breathed deeply through his nose. "No, it got worse, because now I want to help him and I know I can't." Draco stated it matter-of-factly, with a slightly hollow, almost bitter tinge to his voice.

"There are a lot of things we can't do." Draco looked up and Snape grabbed and held his eyes, looking deeply into their centers. "It is my duty to report what has just happened; how you will most likely be sympathetic to his cause." Draco's eyes grew large and his breath caught in his throat.

"But." And here Snape's eyes lost none of their intensity. "If, by some chance, I forget and find other pressing matters to attend to, don't be surprised." Snape looked at his desk and began going through some of the papers scattered there. "I'm a very busy man, Draco, and I do not have time for your silly problems, now leave." Snape's tone was harsh, but Draco's reaction was of relief, and he turned to the door with a barely contained sigh of release.

As he neared the door, Snape's voice carried to his ears. "Oh and, Draco, I'd tell your friends that the points were for catching Harry Potter and his friends using potions illegally on one another." Draco smiled, his back to his Potions master, before exiting the room.

***

"You don't think for once he could teach us how to make something simple, like pumpkin juice, now do you?" Ron said with an almost hopeful lilt to his voice. Harry sighed deeply, shaking his head.

"Of course not, that would be nice of him." Harry was grumpy, mind you, Potions pretty much always made him grumpy; there was just something about the whole atmosphere of the class. They were in a moldy dungeon with a mean teacher and a group of Slytherin classmates who hated them. That would make pretty much anyone grumpy.

"Be sure not to drink the potion," Snape droned in a bored tone. "Of course, Mr. Potter would know all about that, now wouldn't he?" Harry felt his cheeks go red as Ron glared at the Potions master. There was an eruption of laughter from the other side of the room as the Slytherins clapped Draco on the back and sniggered.

Harry's mouth fell open as he saw the smug expression plastered on Draco's face. He was smiling! Why was he smiling?! If anyone should be embarrassed it was Draco, yet there he was, being cheered on by his classmates as though he'd just won the Quidditch Cup. Wait a minute- no; Harry looked down at his cauldron. Draco couldn't have been...questing for him, could he? Was the entire "accidentally" falling on him incident really just so he could kiss him? Harry turned slightly green. What if the whole house had been in on it and they were just trying to shake him up? Or, maybe, Harry shuddered, maybe Draco...liked him, and not in a friendly type way. Maybe he'd gotten angry because Harry had treated him nicely, like a friend, when really what Draco wanted was to be more than his friend.

Harry gulped. What if Draco expected something from him? What if he thought that since Harry had been nice to Draco, it was an invitation to try and get closer to him? What, if by some horrible twist of fate, he and Harry somehow found themselves alone and Draco launched himself at Harry, impure intentions in mind? It was too much to bear! Harry snuck a quick glance in Draco's direction. He was adding ingredients to his cauldron with ease, apparently not even noticing the fact that Harry was alive.

Harry took in a deep breath. Now, when you are face to face with the possibility that someone may greatly like you, you have to size up said person and see whether you might, well, return the favor. Not that he liked Malfoy, but, if, perchance, Malfoy liked him, he had to see how bad a meeting between the two of them would be. He stealthily watched as Draco stirred the contents of his cauldron slowly, stirring back and forth, and then in a circle, around and around. The movements were so breathtakingly slow it hurt to watch, and Harry almost couldn't watch, but he had to, had to see the expression on the blonde's face as he moved back and forth in a slow, steady rhythm. Harry felt as if he would explode, the never ending movement now speeding up with need, now frenzied, faster and faster, harder, harder, HARDER-

"Bloody hell, is it You-Know-Who?!"

"What?" Harry spun around.

"Your face, mate, I thought you were gonna keel over; it looked like you were in pain. Is your scar hurting?"

"Um...." Harry's face went red. "Oh....yeah... I mean, yeah, Voldemort, right, scar."

Ron looked at his friend with concerned eyes. "You must have seen something pretty bad, it's messed you up right good. Are you okay?" Oh, boy.

***

Draco grinned to himself as he slowed the pace of his stirring. He may not like Potter, but it didn't mean he couldn't have fun with him. God only knows what Potter was thinking while he stared at him stirring the cauldron, probably had something to do with that Weasley girl.

Unless- no, he couldn't; it wasn't possible. Draco almost stopped stirring altogether as the dreaded thought formed in his mind. Unless Potter liked him...

***

This was not happening. Draco almost screamed the anger was building up so high in him. There he was, that stupid prat, staring at him...again. Harry's eyes had followed him ALL over the school, endlessly searching and always finding him. Draco groaned, he'd tried hiding everywhere and here, the library, had been his last option. Somehow, no matter what, that prick always knew exactly where he'd be. It was like Harry'd learned so much in the past day of watching him that he now knew everything there was to know about Draco. It seemed as though Draco thought something and Harry instantly knew exactly what Draco was thinking. It was like there was an unbreakable connection; a bond of some sort between them... Draco HATED it. In fact, he more than hated it, he wanted to pound it into bloody little clumps and then cut those clumps into smaller clumps and then feed those clumps to the giant squid. Actually, that was also what he wanted to do to Harry Potter as well. In fact, everything could get fed to the squid for all he cared.

What was the world coming to? He couldn't even go to the LIBRARY and enjoy some peace and quiet. The worst part, though, was the absolute and utter silence of everything. Sure, there were a few hushed whispers, but that was it. Just hushed whispers, the opening of books, and Harry's eyes. They didn't even seem to blink. Harry was hardly being inconspicuous; he hadn't even touched the book in front of him! And...and Draco couldn't even write a FUCKING LETTER TO SOME DEATH EATERS WITHOUT THAT ASSHOLE STARING AT HIM!

Draco was getting more annoyed by the second at the stupid look on Harry's face. Why couldn't he just leave Draco alone? Everything would be much easier that way. They didn't need to know each other, they just had to fight each other and glare at each other and that was good enough. They didn't need friendship, or even respective silence.

Draco glared down at the piece of parchment that stood in front of him, daring himself to write. He didn't want to write anything on it, didn't want to say anything to anyone, really. All he really wanted was to curl up on a bed and cuddle with someone. He just wanted someone to hold him and tell him everything was alright. He wanted to feel something besides empty and scared. He was scared of everyone close to him, scared of everyone far from him, and scared of the fact that, as a result, he was pushing everyone away. He didn't want to push people away. But he also didn't want Harry Potter to look at him. He just wanted Harry Potter to go away, to go and have fun with his miserable friends so Draco could plan other people's deaths.

***

Harry wasn't sure what was going on. There were all these little questions floating through his mind and he didn't know the answer to any of them. He didn't even want to answer them. All he wanted to do was walk across the room and give Draco a hug. Not because he was Draco Malfoy or because of any weird ideas of attractions or curiosity or anything like that. He just wanted to give Draco a hug because he'd never seen anyone look so sad in his life, and no one should be that sad. All he wanted to do was make all the bad go away and make everything else better. He didn't know how, or even why, but it just wasn't right that Draco should suffer- Harry didn't want to see him suffer.

More than anything, he just wanted Draco to break down and cry. Not because he was Draco Malfoy or even because Harry wanted to see him weak, just because there was so much bottled up inside of the boy that it hurt to watch. It hurt to watch because Harry saw more than he should and he knew that there was pain bubbling away beneath the blonde boy's cold surface, and he wanted to make it go away. Harry just wanted to hold him while he cried and make it all better because... because that's what he wanted to do. No one should keep all that bottled in and Harry thought that if Draco cried, maybe he would feel a little better. And all Harry wanted, more than anything, was for Draco to feel a little better.

***

Draco shivered violently against the cold stone floor. All he could feel was the cold hardness beneath him and that was all he wanted to feel, and yet flashes of green danced behind his eyes in sickening swirls; swirls that made him feel other things as well.

Regret was one of them, one of the harsh piercing emotions that seemed to bar and hold him hostage in their sick malice.

Loss and the fear of losing were also there. He felt the loss of things that had come and gone; the loss of warmth beneath him and he was scared of losing everything he had left.

The last thing he felt was hate. Blind, unmerciful hate that was strong and furious and lustful for revenge. He hated everyone and everything because there was so much he needed and so much he should have, so much he should've had, and yet his life was lacking. He should have had love but all he had was lonely emptiness. And because of that, he hated.

A small whimper escaped from his mouth, but it was quiet and it wasn't heard by anyone.

He pressed his forehead into the stone, trying to steady himself from the brutal tremors going through his body. His hand reached out for someone who wasn't there, someone who couldn't grasp him, and he didn't know who it was, or why he was doing it, simply that he was. He knew that he needed it and wanted it and he was empty without anything and all he was asking for was someone to hold his hand through it all.

Another shiver ran through him.

***

Harry whimpered and twisted around painfully. His arm stretched out and his fingers wrapped around some unseen object, his face contorted with pain and worry.

***

Harry looked at Draco curiously as the blonde's head came dangerously near to falling onto his desk. Mind you, he himself hadn't slept very well last night, so it was no wonder Draco was tired; night can be a very daunting time. He sighed and tried to pay attention to the Professor.

He was worried. It didn't make sense, and he didn't have anything to worry about, and yet he was worried. What was worse was that he couldn't tell his friends because then they'd worry. Besides, this was more of a personal thing.

Something was wrong. Something had to be wrong. There had to be something going on. He sighed in frustration and turned back to his studies. Whatever it was, it would likely reveal itself in time. Not that he'd really wait long for it to happen before trying to figure it out, but he'd at least give it until lunch. Yes, lunch.

***

Draco stared at his plate and simply willed it to go away. He wanted it to go away; he wished it would go away. More than anything he wanted his plate to disappear because, if his plate could disappear, then maybe so could his problems. He sighed and, with a great swishing of his robes, left the table, heading towards the library, where he could at least escape his classmates. He didn't want to look at anyone; he just wanted to be alone so he could drown in self pity.

***

Harry saw Draco leave, and he saw the way he looked and the way he moved. He stood rooted to the spot for a moment, staring at his plate and trying to make up his mind.

He wasn't really sure what was going on, but, he had said he'd give everything until lunch, and, here it was, lunch. With a smile, he felt fully convinced he had every right to follow the Slytherin and see what he was thinking, and, more to the point, how he was feeling. Because Harry knew a sad person when he saw one, and Draco was the absolute picture of someone sad, complete with every single cliché thrown in.

Standing up, he made his way to the library, knowing full well that that was exactly where Draco would go when he was sad and wanted to be alone. He didn't question it at all.

***

Draco wiped at his nose and silently prayed that no one would decide to take a trip to the library to study, because his sobs were sure to alert anyone as to where he was and what he was doing. The only reason Madam Pince hadn't noticed was that he'd managed to get far enough from her desk that the sound was muffled enough not to attract her attention.

Move a little bit past her desk, however, and the sounds soon got louder and louder. He held himself close and wrapped his arms around his legs, resting his head on his knees.

He felt comfortable like that, it was like hugging a stuffed toy; it was a familiar thing to do whenever one was sad.

Harry's mouth fell open a bit as he saw Draco, with his shoulders heaving and his back trembling. He'd never seen Draco look more fragile, more delicate. His heart broke several times.

He was about to walk over to him, when Draco wiped his eyes and stood up. Harry hid behind a bookshelf as Draco walked by, a graceful ease to his step that Harry had never before noticed, or even thought to notice. He sat at a table, picked up a book and started to read through puffy, red eyes. Harry stood there for a few moments, simply watching him, trying to sift through his emotions. Then, he started to walk over.

***

Draco stared at the pages of the book with unseeing eyes. He'd been weak, that was all; he'd had a weak moment and was lucky that someone hadn't seen him. He felt, rather than heard, someone approaching. He looked up and his eyes were greeted with the sight of Harry, his face warm with a caring expression.

Draco's heart skipped a beat. Oh, shit.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked thoughtfully and Draco gave him the dirtiest look he could and flexed his jaw.

"No, I am not," he said, enunciating each word carefully. "I seem to have an ignorant twat following me around, and it's starting to annoy the hell out of me." Draco glared and Harry simply raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure that's what's bothering you?" Harry was obviously goading him and it irked the hell out of Draco.

Draco stood up, his face leering at Harry. "You stupid prick, what would-" Draco's eyes flew open as he felt Harry's arms encircle him.

What the fuck was he doing? At first Draco had thought he was trying to attack him, but now it seemed unlikely as Potter just stood there, his body pressing into Draco's. He knew he should throw Harry off, or at least yell something horribly mean and hurtful at him before leaving. Perhaps a punch or too would be good also, they'd be well deserved, to say the least.

But Draco didn't. He almost though he didn't want to, but that, of course, wasn't the case, because why the hell wouldn't he want to beat the bloody daylights out of Potter, especially after this..."incident"?

And yet, as sure as Draco was of the fact that he hated Potter, and that he wanted nothing more than to pull away and shove him into the table, Draco couldn't help but notice the slight warmth that radiated from the other boy's body, the slightly nice smell of his hair.

The slight feeling of shelter, like this boy, Potter, this annoying idiot, was some sort of house. Some sort of place that Draco could just... be in and not worry.

And suddenly Draco was hit with the thought that sometime in his life, some time that was a bit fuzzy and not all that clear, he'd had that. He'd had some sort of shelter that he could call his.

And it was that thought that made him start to cry. A stupid, fleeting thought that really had no meaning at all, and now he was left doubting whether he had any sanity left. Because Malfoy's do not cry because of fleeting thoughts and they certainly don't do it in the arms of idiotic Gryffindors like Potter.

They just don't.

***

Harry was quite sure he'd lost his mind. It was one thing to think about hugging someone like Malfoy, a crazy, stupid thing, but certainly not something one would check oneself into the loony bin over. However, actually hugging someone like Malfoy, well, that was just disturbing.

As was the fact that Harry was enjoying it.

Yes, Malfoy was as stiff as a board and most likely the only thing that kept Malfoy from cursing him into oblivion was shock, but there was something nice about the other boy. It was nice to feel his arms around Malfoy and it was nice the way Harry could feel the other boy's breath on his ear. And Harry was almost sure that at one point he'd actually heard Draco sniff, almost like he was sad, like he was crying. Of course, this hadn't really happened, but Harry, for some inexplicable reason, wanted to pretend it had. Because this all felt so nice.

It was a slightly natural feeling, and that scared the shit out of him more than anything.

Hugging Malfoy would never be natural.

Harry had the sudden thought that he should probably let go. It had been a little while and still Malfoy was rigid and the situation was only bound to get worse if he continued like this.

And then Malfoy shifted slightly, he may have been reaching for his wand or he may have just been uncomfortable, but in that moment Malfoy's body aligned with Harry's and Malfoy's cheek brushed against his.

It was then that he heard a familiar squeak.

Harry stilled. Swallowing, Harry moved away slowly, sparing a glance Malfoy's way. Malfoy's face was frozen with a horrified look, completely unmoving.

He looked over at Ron and Hermione in a frightened manner, squeamish as to what they might say.

"Can't you find some broom closet to have sex in?! Why do you always have to do it when I'm around?" Ron was in hysterics, throwing his hands in the air and ranting about rooms and privacy. "Bedroom good, library BAD!"

"He should be put down," Malfoy said, as he stared at Ron in disgust (he appeared to have broken out of his horror-filled trance). "Before he hurts himself, or, more importantly, someone else." Raising his eyebrow as he passed Ron, Draco exited the room, obvious revulsion on his face. Harry watched him go and was almost sad.

Harry winced as he glanced at Hermione whose face, if it was possible, was redder than his.

"What-"

"Don't ask, just don't." Harry held up his hand to stop her.

"Why do you always have to touch each other when I'm around?!" Ron wailed.

"We were just hugging!"

"You were touching him!"

"Yeah, but," Harry sputtered, at a loss for words. "It wasn't, like, bad, or anything."

"You had your arms around him!"

"Ron," Hermione put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay." She stroked his arm reassuringly.

"But every time I see them..." he wailed into his hands.

Hermione winced at something Harry wasn't sure about. "Ron, it's only happened twice."

He picked his face up out of his hands and glared at her. "It was a rough two times."

It was Harry's turn to burry his face in his hands. "Kill me now, please."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Will both of you stop with the drama, it was just a hug."

"They were touching."

"People touch!" Harry yelled.

"So you WERE touching!"

"ARRRGH!" Harry launched himself at Ron, who swatted him with his hand. They were soon in a full-fledged fight, both swinging their hands and slapping at each other.

"STOP IT!" Roared Hermione, as she pulled them apart with more strength than they ever thought possible; they were, after all, two almost full grown boys. Actually, they were probably wimps (hello, slapping?), so, in retrospect, it wasn't that surprising.

They panted, glaring daggers at each other as Hermione held them apart. "This solves nothing," she said irritably.

"He hit me!" Ron pointed at Harry accusingly and Harry roared at Ron with accusations, and soon they were once again fighting, or, slapping.

"STOP!" Hermione held her wand at them and they froze. "Or else..." They looked at each other for a second, wondering just how bad she'd get them, she was their best friend, after all. Mind you, she seemed pretty pissed...

Hermione raised her eyebrows and, when no one moved, she lowered her wand. "You're both so immature; I can't believe you'd fight over something like that." She gave them a stern look and they stared at the floor sheepishly.

"About time, I thought Hermione was going to jump on you all, and we know how much she'd love that." Hermione's cheeks tinted a deep, angry red color as Pansy Parkinson smirked behind her.

With a feral cry, Hermione pounced onto Parkinson and began beating the crap out of her. Ron and Harry stared, transfixed, their mouths hanging open, as Hermione landed blow after blow on Pansy.

After the first few initial punches, Pansy started to fight back and soon there was a full on brawl, as both girls struggled to get on top of each other.

"Harry, this is bloody awesome." Ron looked like he was going to explode with a surge of utter happiness and Harry was torn between laughing and dying of shock. When the biting turned to kissing and the hitting turned to groping, however, all amusement he had left.

The boys watched, star-struck, as Pansy and Hermione had a complete snog-fest on the floor of the library. Harry looked at Ron and thought that he was going to faint.

"Um, Ron?"

Ron looked at him, his face pale and a smile gleaming on his face. "God loves me, he really does."