Play The Game

CHAPTER SIX

It was a foregone conclusion, Draco decided, that his back, neck, arse, ankles, hips, elbows and wrists would never be the same again. He blinked a few times and groaned, sitting forwards. His backside protested, along with just about everything else in his body. A massive wave of pins and needles shot through him and he cried out. His left hand especially felt worse than numb. Draco lifted it from up on the bed where Harry Potter slept....

Harry Potter?

Draco looked in shock-horror at his hand and the redness on Harry's cheek where his palm had been all night.

"Yuck!" he exclaimed loudly.

There were voices from near the door and suddenly it opened, emitting three people of various ages and looks.

Severus Snape was talking to Dumbledore in his usual drawling voice. "Certainly, Albus... MR MALFOY!"

Draco started violently at the sound of his housemaster's voice.

"Sir!" he said, raising his eyebrows in shock. "You're looking particularly greasy today."

"It'd be wise to keep your mouth shut in your predicament, young master Malfoy," Snape replied, pulling his robes across himself imperiously.

"I'd keep your mouth shut too, sir," Draco suggested. "Your breath smells like bat shit."

"Mr. Malfoy, don't doubt that I will take House Points from my own House, curse or no curse. Now, I believe you need to wake up Potter, Poppy?" he asked, successfully ignoring Draco.

"He woke up just after you left, Madam Pomfrey," Draco told her. "Muttered some things then went back to sleep again." He did not detail the situation.

"Thank you, Draco," Poppy smiled. "If you could remember what he said...?"

"I'll let you know," Draco said distantly.

Poppy nodded and crossed to Harry's bed with Dumbledore. They murmured for a moment or two and sparks sifted down over Harry's body.

While this was going on, Snape stared sternly at Draco. "We will be having a talk about this once you are able to speak normally, so until then, I wish you not to speak till this is over."

"That's a shame. I wish a lot of things that don't come true," Draco beamed.

Draco drifted over to Harry's bed to watch the action, singing 'Too Funky' quietly to himself.

Snape pulled his robes tighter around himself and followed Draco over to the bed where Poppy and Albus were going through the process of waking Harry up from the state he was in. He frowned, Potter had been coming along well with his Occlumency; this shouldn't have happened. The only explanation was that Harry wasn't seeing the present or past, as he had been doing for five years, but was now seeing the future.

Warmth, how nice that feeling was. It reached into him and calmed him down, he could come home now, everything was safe. Harry opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the harsh light of day as he turned his head to look around and clenched and un-clenched his fists.

"Welcome back, Potty!" Draco exclaimed happily.

Albus bent over the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Headmaster," Poppy murmured. "I think he needs rest and my attention. Draco can help us to piece together what's happened if you need it."

"What Potter needs is to come to terms with the fact that once again he has members of staff out of their daily routine to see to his every need," Snape said icily as he pushed past Draco and peered down his hooked nose at Harry. "What did you see, and why did you not use what you have been learning with me?"

"Oh piss off you slimy old ratbag," Draco sneered, shoving Snape's shoulder. "Leave him alone."

Harry relaxed into his bed as Dumbledore spoke to him, then tensed again as Snape loomed over him. As Draco rushed to his defence he blinked rapidly and rubbed his eyes. "My glasses," his voice was hoarse. "Where are my glasses?" he asked, ignoring Snape.

Dumbledore cast around him, then shrugged and snapped his fingers, dusting sparks from a pair of spectacles before handing them to Harry.

Harry smiled briefly and put on the glasses, marvelling at how they were better than his own ones. He pushed himself up on his elbows and set about telling them what he had seen while he had been dreaming, editing out the 'him' Voldemort had spoken of, and what had happened when he had been awake whenever he felt the need. "I couldn't use Occlumency," he finished, "because Voldemort wasn't showing me what he was doing then, I was seeing what might happen."

"See, you're not always right, Old Slimy," Draco smirked, sticking his tongue out at Snape.

"Thank you," Dumbledore said, nodding. "Mr. Malfoy, if you could fill the gaps?"

"There aren't many," Draco shrugged. "He just said a load of names, and that he was sorry and didn't want someone to stop loving him, then went back to sleep."

"I'm sure you can go into a lot more detail than that, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said as he continued to look down at Harry who was now blushing slightly.

"What names exactly?" he inquired further.

"Don't talk to me like I'm your servant," Draco snapped. "It's Potter's dream and therefore none of your bloody business. I can see why he's so damn pissy all the time! You people start squealing if he takes a shit that looks like Abraham Lincoln. He gets no peace."

Snape stared at him calmly. "You have already managed to lose 5 points for Slytherin thanks to that smart mouth of yours; if you wish to lose any more please carry on."

"What do you think I am, Snape? Why would I want to lose points?" Draco asked scornfully, looking down his nose at Snape. "The names and things Har... Potter said are between him and me, and I don't really care if you want to know because I don't want to tell you."

"Mr. Malfoy, it would really help us out if you could tell us," Dumbledore pressed gently.

"No it wouldn't," Draco said quickly. "The people were irrelevant to the situation."

"They were?" Harry asked, looking at Draco thoughtfully. "I can't even remember, so can't you at least tell me?"

"You said something like, 'No don't stop... Draco... Hermione Ron... Seriously, I'm sorry... Dumbledore... I didn't want to go. Don't stop loving me,'" Draco reported.

Harry furrowed his brow as Snape's eyes widened. "It seems that Potter actually likes the attention he receives from his fans."

"Can't you ever shut up?" Draco demanded, rising to his feet with fists clenched.

Snape proceeded to ignore Draco once more. "Potter, I am going to give you a bottle of a dreamless potion. At the end of the month I want you to come back to me for another supply. Always drink it right before you get into bed, never earlier, and never later."

Harry nodded mutely, wondering why Snape was doing this for him.

"You're so stupid!" Draco snapped. "Can't you see that it's important for him to have these dreams? This is like painting over damp rot! It doesn't make the problem go away!"

Draco pushed the potions master aside and walked to Harry's side.

"Harry, would you rather go into this inevitable battle knowing what will be the consequence of every action, or would you like to go into it completely blind? It sounds like I'm going to be there too, and I don't want you smashing everything up."

"Surely that wouldn't be the case, Headmaster?" Snape asked.

"Actually, Mr. Malfoy may have a point," Albus said mildly. His eyes twinkled.

"I know I have a point. What do you think, Ha... Potter?" Draco asked again, louder.

"I..." Harry fell quiet. "I don't want to face those nightmares again, but if you need me to for the 'final battle' then I will."

Draco raised his hands and sat back. "Not up to me."

"Nor me," Madam Pomfrey said, shaking her head.

"I'm not too happy with it. Dreams like that could damage Potter mentally, but I don't believe that it is my decision," Snape finally said with a sigh.

"Well, ultimately it's up to you, Harry," Albus sighed, removing his glasses to polish the lenses on his voluminous sleeve. "I can see how they might prove to be an ally, but if you're not mentally well when you face this then it defeats the object of it."

"Can I dream it for him?" Draco asked suddenly.

"Can you what?!" Snape exclaimed. "Certainly not."

Harry looked on in shock at Draco, mouth hanging open slightly. "Why would you do that?"

Draco's expression tightened and he shook his head.

"It's clearly not a popular option. I don't work well when I say whatever comes into my head. Just don't listen to me."

He turned his head away, hurt and humiliation flickering in his chest. 'Why did you have to say that?'

"Ah, the hex," Snape murmured, apparently satisfied. He turned from Draco and began discussing quietly with Albus and Poppy.

Harry lay back down on his bed with a sigh, closing his eyes against the glare of the sunlight streaming through the open window, reflecting off the ice crystals and snow. Why did Draco offer to have the dreams instead of Harry? The parts in between the dream began leaking back slowly and Harry flushed, pulling the covers up over his head slightly. 'Please tell me I didn't plead to Draco, please tell me this is just another twisted dream to hurt me further."

Draco stood up and walked over to his own bed, snatching up his clothes and walking to the door. He kept his head held high, but the skin around his eyes was tightened as he hid behind a mask of cold arrogance. 'Just keep your mouth shut and nothing else can go wrong.'

When Harry finally dropped the cover, convinced that he wasn't blushing as much, Draco was gone. He sank his head back into his pillow and waited to hear what his fate would be.

Draco slung his cloak about his shoulders as he walked down the corridor, slightly hurt that no one had insisted he stay in the hospital wing. Indeed they had not even noticed he was gone.

"It's for the best," he whispered to himself.

"Talking to yourself?" Blaise asked with a slight smirk, which he dropped quickly when he saw the expression on Draco's face. Crossing the remaining steps he looked like he was fighting for an expression, concern that Draco looked hurt or relief that Draco was ok.

"Yes," Draco answered, not missing a beat.

He finally settled with slight concern. "You ok?"

"Yes," Draco replied flatly. "Well, no, my arse hurts." And it's not the only thing.

"Oh, I heard Potter was taken into the ward last night, that true?"

"Yes," Draco said tersely. It was getting a bit close to the sore, there.

"Shame," Blaise replied, not in the least bit sympathetic.

"Not really," Draco blurted quietly.

"Hmm?" Blaise asked, sure he had heard something.

"He was weird... Saying strange things and waking up randomly."

Blaise blinked and began to walk in the direction of the Library. "Care to explain?"

"He had some prophetic dream about the Dark Lord and when he woke up he started saying names - including mine - and asking people not to stop loving him."

Blaise shifted his bag to the other shoulder, waiting for Draco to start walking with him. "Prophetic dream? You mean, Potter an now see the future?"

"So it would appear," Draco shrugged, walking after Blaise. "It was strange."

"I'm guessing it was a bad dream with screaming and shouting?" Blaise asked, interested even though he didn't want to be.

"Screaming and shouting and apparently me," Draco agreed. "I was checking his pulse to see if he was okay but he told me not to stop." He didn't want to tell Blaise this. "So I held his hand for ages. I fell asleep."

"Oh," Blaise was practically speechless. "So he fell asleep holding your hand? Maybe he," he lowered his voice so no one else could overhear, "likes you back?"

"No he doesn't!" Draco snapped in a whisper. His eyes darted. "Don't hit me again."

Blaise smiled slightly, "Wouldn't dream of it."

"Yeah you would," Draco said nervously. "I have a supreme lack of trust where your fists are concerned, you know. You've damaged me permanently."

"I have not!" Blaise protested.

"You have!" Draco objected, poking him in the chest. "Madam Pomfrey couldn't re-do my tooth. She says I have to wait till it's completely healed up."

"Yeah, but when it's healed she can fix it probably. I'm going to have this little scar on my lip for a long time!" he protested, resisting the urge to poke Draco back.

"Yeah? And I'll have a cobweb on my cheek forever too," Draco snapped, turning his head so Blaise could see the fine tracery of pearly lines, only visible when the light shone onto it.

Blaise frowned, then a grin spread across his features. "I'm only too sure that Pansy would be happy to cover you in makeup to hide the scar though I find it interesting, like a tattoo."

Apparently, two other girls thought so too. Blaise looked up from Draco to see two Ravenclaw girls a year above them pointing and giggling at the scar on Draco's chin.

"Hi Draco!" one called as they walked past, the other seemingly amazed by the scar.

Blaise looked over at Draco with a grin. "Seems other people do too."

"Hey girls," Draco grinned, raising a hand.

"Why are we going to the library? I'm still in my jammies."

"I need to get an Arithmancy book out. Vector gave us some homework to be due in after the Christmas Holiday's and there's some extra credit up for grabs, I just need the book." Blaise pulled a slip of parchment out of his bag. "I'm sure you can handle being in your jammies for a few minutes while I get it, Vector gave me permission."

"I don't have a problem, but I might cause some girls to pass out," Draco said modestly, following Blaise.

Blaise chuckled. "You've cheered up," he pointed out, nodding to a Slytherin a year younger than them, who was coming out of the Library.

Draco saluted to the Slytherin and grinned.

"It's something to do with shoving Snape and calling him various unpleasant names."

"You did what?" Blaise asked, eyebrows shooting up. He handed the note to Madame Pince and leaned against the desk to face Draco. "You never told me you did that."

"There are... There used to be a lot of things I didn't tell you," Draco shrugged, putting his hands into his pyjama pockets.

"What changed?" Blaise asked as Madame Pince returned with a severely disapproving look at Draco as she handed the book to Blaise.

"The fact that I now tell everyone everything," Draco said with a rueful smile. "I can't seem to stop myself, oddly enough."

"That's a point," Blaise murmured. "What happened to the curse?"

"I still have it. I reckon it might be fading a bit. Either that or I don't think so nastily about people anymore. Your hair looks nice today," he added absently.

"Maybe the counter-cruse doesn't exist," Blaise said thoughtfully. "It could be one of those spells where you have to *do* something to get better. In your case, stop thinking so badly."

"Pah," Draco scoffed. "I hate those moralistic notions. There's always a counter-curse, even if it's death."

"There's no counter curse for Avada Kedavra as of yet," Blaise said, putting the book in his bag then beginning to walk to the door again.

"The counter for that is death," Draco said doggedly.

Blaise momentarily paused as he walked then shook his head, "You're mad," he replied with a grin.

"I'm not," Draco said sincerely. "I'm the only person who really sees things the way they are."

"I doubt you're the only one," Blaise replied impassively. "I know of three more people who think like you do." He pushed the door open and walked out of the Library, Draco not far behind.

"They would be?" Draco asked, stepping aside to let a staring Ravenclaw girl pass.

"The Dark Lord for one, Dumbledore and possibly Lucius. I would have said Crabbe and Goyle because basically, they think that food solves everything, but, you know." He shrugged and pushed some hair out of his eyes, tentatively running a tongue over the scar on his lip.

"The Dark Lord does not view death as a cure," Draco said stiffly. "To him, death is the worst punishment. His one failing is intolerable fear of the grave. He doesn't realise that death is the purest solution." Draco tossed his head slightly, his bangs flicking back from his face. "That's why Potter's going to win."

Blaise stumbled on his next step, then continued walking as if nothing had happened, his shoulders slightly more hunched. He looked over his shoulder at Draco out of curious eyes. "Potter is afraid of death. It's obvious in the way he walks and the way he talks, he's seen death and he doesn't like it. He's too pure for it."

"No," Draco said fervently, stopping. His eyes were stormy as he glared into Blaise's. "Potter knows death so intimately that he knows who deserves it. The Dark Lord does not. Some people may benefit from being dead, but Potters knows who they are and the Dark Lord has no idea. He kills because he wants to. It's only the ones who are sure that they are justified before they kill who win. Potter's purity means that killing will break him like a twig." Draco mimed snapping a stick as he said this, his eyes furiously intense. He let his hands drop to his sides. "He won't risk that until he knows it's the only way."

Turning, Draco continued his walking.

Blaise followed Draco with his eyes for a while before hurriedly catching up and walking next to the boy in silence. Just what had happened in the Hospital Wing last night?

Madam Pomfrey scuttled around the corner, peering along the corridor. She saw Draco holding his fists parallel before him, then snap them downwards. He seemed very angry. She hoped she could cheer him up a little.

"Draco!" she called, trotting over to him. He stopped, looking puzzled. "If you'll just come with me, we can counter that spell of yours."

"Thanks," Draco said hesitantly.

"It won't take a minute, you can come too, Mr. Zabini," she smiled.

"I really have to do my homework, Madame Pomfrey," Blaise said hurriedly, 'and I need some time to think alone,' he added silently. "I'll wait for Draco in the Common Room."

Draco turned eyes flatly expressionless. "I'll see you there."

He followed Madam Pomfrey as she bustled away, a guiding hand on the small of his back.

***

Harry was lying flat on his back, eyes closed, when Draco and Madame Pomfrey walked into the Hospital Ward. He had been lying like this for some time, contemplating what Snape and Dumbledore had told him. These dreams could be mentally scarring, but they could be the only hope he had when he finally faced Voldemort. Harry put the balls of his fists on his closed eyes, trying to make things darker and take himself away from all these choices he had to make. Why him? Why not Neville? He gritted his teeth to stop himself from crying aloud at the injustice in the World.

"What's eating him?" Draco asked loudly, pointing.

"Draco," Poppy hissed. "He needs his rest. Please keep your voice down."

"I can't be bothered. He's awake anyway," Draco pointed out.

Harry ignored the buzz of voices as Madame Pomfrey and Draco talked, trying to find peace of mind so he could finally relax. The questions still buzzed around his mind, the same ones that he had been asking since the end of last year, followed by new ones. Why had Draco offered to have the dreams for him? Had Draco noticed his moment of weakness and vulnerability? Would he take advantage of it? His jaw began to ache and he relaxed it slightly, no longer gritting his teeth.

"I'm fine," Harry replied in a tired voice, glad to have someone to talk to so he could have a normal conversation, and not be told that he was going to die or he had to make yet another choice.

"I'm not," Draco reported. "I still have a sore arse from sitting next to you all night, and I can't stop myself from talking randomly." He smiled. "Your eyes are the same colour as the bedspread in my room at home. We could compare them sometime." He considered it. "That'd have to be before father gets out of jail, though. I don't think he'd take too kindly to it..." Draco grimaced. "I'm sorry."

Harry chuckled slightly, "If anyone saw you now, talking to me about bedspreads and your father, someone might get the wrong impression."

"I don't care," Draco murmured.

Harry's breath hitched as he picked up on what Draco said. He began to fiddle with the bedspread; unable to look Draco in the eyes for fear that he wouldn't stop looking. "Do you miss him?"

"Sometimes," Draco admitted. He sighed and sat back. "People don't think he and I get along, but we do. He expects a lot of me, but he's nothing more than a proud father." He paused and looked at Harry. Leaning forwards again, he asked, "How does it feel not having a father?"

"I've never had one to miss," Harry replied quietly. "I don't know what it's like with one, so I can't answer properly. I'm sorry."

Draco looked puzzled. "Don't be."

He glanced over his shoulder. Madam Pomfrey was talking to a first year and she still didn't have her wand.

"I'm sorry for all the things I've said." He smiled. "Make the most of this apology, because it'll be the first and the last. Once this hex wears off, I won't have to be honest and nice anymore. I'm truly sorry for being mean to you all these years. I have something else I want to tell you." Draco's face was drained, but high colour tinged his cheekbones. "Potter... Harry, I..."

"Draco!" Madam Pomfrey called in a singsong voice. "Come on, dear."

Draco cast a desperate glance at Harry before standing up and walking over to the nurse. They stepped behind and curtain and were gone from vision.

Harry wasn't sure whether he was dreaming or not. The grass is always greener on the other side, and he was on that other side. With Draco. He frowned, turning on his side, finding a pen and tearing some parchment from the back of one of his books.

Draco,

I think that now is about time we finally had a talk. With certain things going on, and Voldemort - surprised? I can say his name too - now in full reign I need to get to grips with things, and you seem to be standing there, confusing me at every turn.

Meet me tonight in the small courtyard near Hagrid's cabin (follow the left path around the castle) and we'll talk.

I'll be waiting, but not forever.

Harry

Draco stepped out from behind the screen, feeling somehow clogged. He couldn't tell if he felt better or worse. He looked up. He had ten paces to decide how he would act towards Potter. Nine, eight, seven. What do I do? Six, five, four. I could be nice in private and mean in public. Three, two. But there won't BE private anymore. One.

Draco looked up and smiled warmly to Harry. He turned to wave to Madam Pomfrey and made to walk to the door.

Deciding in a split second when Draco smiled at him, Harry jumped out of his bed and raced across the floor. "Draco, wait!" He grabbed the other boy's hand to stop him, pressing the note into his palm. As Draco turned Harry half closed his eyes, looking at Draco through black eyelashes. He gave him a meaningful look, squeezed his hand then dropped it to return to his bed.

Draco looked at Harry in amazement, fist clenching around the note protectively.

"Bye, Harry," he said in a puzzled tone, pulling the door open and walking out.

Once the door creaked shut behind him, Draco dropped his back against the wall and unfolded the note with trembling fingers. He scanned it, then read it again, twice. Swallowing hard, Draco pushed off from the wall and ran down the corridor towards the dorms and common room.

***

Harry ambled into the Gryffindor Common Room while the rest of the students were in the Great Hall. He was shivering with barely suppressed energy as he calmly walked around the sofa and up to the Boys Dorm. He discarded the top of his pyjamas and walked into the bathroom, running a basin of cold water.

He splashed his face with it and splayed his fingers across his nose and cheeks, eyes poking out through the gaps. "I've officially lost it," he murmured.

"And you needed to tell me that? You're talking to yourself, boy," Dean grinned, walking in and slapping him on the back.

Harry groaned as he turned his head to the side to look at Dean and reached for a towel. "What would you say if I sent a note back?" he asked.

"Sent a note?" Dean looked puzzled.

"Never mind," Harry replied, towelling his face dry. He walked past Dean and slung the towel back on the rack absently. "Where are the others?"

"Heeeeeeere!" came a shout as Seamus's head appeared from his trunk, hair dishevelled. "You ok now Harry?"

"Yeah, how are you?" Ron asked, sounding a lot more concerned than the others.

"I'm fine," Harry replied, running a hand through his hair and pulling on some black pants. He paused to pull on a dark red shirt before talking again, "thanks, Ron. For taking me to the Hospital Wing."

"Don't mention it," Ron said distantly. "Malfoy was there too. He didn't do anything to you in your sleep, did he?"

'I wish' "No, Ron. He actually helped me, sort of." Harry frowned and polished his glasses on his bedspread before putting them back on. "Did I miss anything important?" he asked, noticing that although it was only the day after Christmas, most of the decorations had been taken down.

"Helped you?" Seamus asked, sitting cross-legged on his bed with a giant book across his lap.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked. "I don't think anything important happened, but Malfoy helping you..."

Harry blushed slightly, ducking his head to hide it from the other boys. He sprayed some cologne on and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Yeah, he kind of talked to me to calm me down while Voldemort killed me..."

"Voldemort was there?!" Seamus nearly shouted, looking across at Dean then back again at Harry, mouth wide open.

"Harry, seriously, You-Know-Who?" Ron gaped.

"No!" Harry exclaimed loudly. "He was in my dream. No, not Malfoy - Voldemort," he explained. "And then Malfoy was there and it all gets confusing. Look, I'll talk about it later, ok?" He stood up.

"Not OK," Ron said, reaching out to grab Harry's sleeve, but he relented. "Go if you want."

Harry looked down at Ron's hand. "I will," he said defiantly, and then he was gone.

Seamus blinked as the door shut. "What's up with him?"

"No idea," Ron answered, looking like Bambi when he's just been kicked. "I just want to make sure he's OK."

Seamus's eyes suddenly lit up. "I bet he's on a date!" he sang.

"Harry?" Ron scoffed. He hesitated. "That sounded quite mean of me, didn't it?" he asked with a guilty cringe.

"You're a nasty bastard sometimes," Dean grinned, shoving Ron gently. "You and Malfoy should get it together."

Seamus snickered, "No one would want to be with Malfoy. No one."

***

Draco closed his eyes against the branches whipping his face. It felt almost odd to be back in his clothes again. He raised an arm to fend a particularly vicious holly branch from his face as he followed the path Potter had described, the note clutched in his other hand. He looked up. There was the gamekeeper's hut, but where was Potter?

Harry leaned his head back and stared at the sky, the bright white lights that were the stars twinkling down at him. Harry sighed, wondering if he was making a mistake as he sat here in the bitterly cold, staring at the night sky and waiting for Draco Malfoy.

Draco crossed the clearing, spotting a reflection off a pair of glasses.

"Potter," he called quietly.

Harry dropped his head to look across the grass to find the owner of the voice. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face as he moved up the bench to let Draco sit down.

"What did you want to talk to me about," Draco asked reluctantly, sitting as far away from Harry as he could.

"Our rivalry and the rose; you started to explain, but Filch interrupted." Harry stared straight ahead, holding a leaf in his hand and stroking it with his thumb.

Draco sighed.

"I'm not in the mood to answer questions unless they're yes or no," he said, closing his eyes and gripping the edge of the bench in gloved fingers.

"Ok then," Harry replied evenly. "By touching the rose have I invoked some family rite?"

"Yes."

"Does it mean I can no longer hate you?"

"You can hate me, but the only solution is death or resolution."

"I never hated you," Harry replied with a small laugh. "People assumed things too much." He put his hands under his legs to keep them from freezing over, the leaf now on the floor.

"Well, we're linked," Draco snapped. He felt curiously irritated and could not put his finger on it. Maybe it was because he had been let down by Harry - why didn't he hate Draco? Draco had put his all into being detested by the Potter boy.

"I gathered that," Harry replied, looking up at the sky again, not noticing that Draco was irritated. "So what does it mean? I need to know so I can find a way around it. I don't want Voldemort hurting more people than is necessary."

"It won't hurt anyone and it means nothing."

"Then why is it so annoying and why can't I stop thinking about picking up that rose?" Harry demanded, turning his head to look at Draco. "It means something and I want to know. You're hiding something from me."

"Yes," Draco answered simply.

"Then why can't you tell me?" Harry asked, annoyed. He clenched his hands into fists under his knees.

"Because then you won't leave me alone," Draco replied with an ironic smile that did not hold any mirth.

Harry scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. He fell into annoyed and angry silence. He didn't want to talk now, Draco was playing with him, he could tell. He resisted the urge to pout.

Draco sat in silence for a moment before relenting.

"The rose bound us. Usually, someone who is in love with someone or hates them beyond belief will send them a bloody rose. That way, they are bound until they forgive, fall in love or die, depending on the intentions of the sender."

"I was the sender?" Harry muttered, more of a question than a statement. "It's not fair. That's not fair." He stormed to his feet and walked away a few feet, angrily clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Why do I have to get into these stupid situations without fucking knowing?!" he demanded, hot tears furiously fighting to be freed. "I don't want to be involved in a prophecy and a rite! I want to be normal, I want out!" he yelled, sinking to his knees on the floor.

"No, I was the sender," Draco amended. "My blood, my rose."

"I don't care," Harry spat. "It's another stupid thing for me to be tied up in. I don't want to be involved in all this stuff, I don't want to have to choose to die or do what I want to do but know I can't. I don't want to kill or be killed," his voice was getting quieter and the tears were finally falling. "I don't want to be me."

Draco opened his mouth in shock.

"Potter... You're crying?"

"Yes I'm fucking crying. Go away Malfoy if you have nothing to say." He continued to shake, on his knees on the cold green grass, crying tears he had held up for years.

Draco walked over to Harry and dropped to his knees beside him.

"I had something to say, but now I don't have the strength to do it. All I wanted at the time was for us to set aside our differences and start listening to each other. We have. The bond will break soon." He took a breath. "There's one more thing."

Harry unconsciously welcomed the warmth of Draco's body next to him, but he could hardly see through his tears, which he was still crying. He was barely listening to Draco; he wanted to run away, to get away from the unfairness of it all. He wanted to run away and live by himself, away from them all. Let them save themselves. But he knew he wouldn't go, he'd stay for them, he'd stay for Draco. He knew this, and he hated it. He couldn't escape from what was sure to be his demise. He dropped his head forward, chin landing on his chest with a dull thump.

He didn't want this. He didn't want any of it. He wanted someone to take it all away; to take the pain away like Draco had done last night when he pulled Harry through the dream.

Harry flushed at the memory, glad it was dark and that Draco couldn't read his mind. Finally, he tuned into what Draco was saying.

'The bond will break? Do I really want it to?' he asked himself, but didn't know the answer.

"One more thing?" he asked, unable to hide the tremble in his voice. Not something else, please.

Draco gave a rueful laugh. "At the time, I was wondering what it would be like to kiss you."

"At the time?" Harry echoed, brain refusing to give him an explanation for the second half of the sentence.

"At the time I was holding the rose and cut myself, therefore at the time the conditions of the bound were stated," Draco explained. He flicked his cloak back and pulled the cuff of his shirt out from under his jersey, using it to wipe Harry's eyes gently, and with an intent expression.

Harry's mouth made an 'o' of slight surprise as butterflies jumped in his chest. 'He has to kiss me for it to end?'

"But..."

"Well, it's up to you," Draco said, his eyes narrowing in a very slight smile. "I'm not bothered either way." He put his hands on the ground in preparation to stand up.

"Don't," Harry commanded in a soft voice. "You don't tell someone something like that and then leave."

"You don't know me that well, then," Draco smiled, but he sank back to sit on his heels.

"Then I'll have to get to know you," Harry replied, watching Draco out of the corner of his eye. "What would happen if you didn't end the curse, but one didn't die either?" he asked.

"It's not a curse," Draco said patiently. "It ends with death or resolution."

"No in-between?"

"Kiss me or die, Potty."

"That sounds awfully scary, Malfoy," Harry replied with a slight smirk. He attempted to push himself up off the grass but stumbled, his legs falling beneath him, dead after he had been resting on them for so long.

Draco reached up and caught Harry mid-fall.

"You asked for the truth," he said darkly. "I'll be going now."

Harry held tightly onto Draco's shirt as he righted himself and dusted his pants, which were now covered in grass stains. "You can ask me something in return," he replied. "It's only fair."

"I'm not the bargaining type, only usually I take and don't give," Draco smiled. His hands still gripped Harry's ribcage. Curiosity overtook him. "Potter, do you like me? More than is customary?"

"You'll have to figure that one out for yourself, Malfoy," Harry replied as he pulled out of Draco's grasp slowly, turned and left.

"But..." Draco stood up slowly, watching Harry walk away. His puzzled expression turned to a silent snarl and he thrust his hands into his pockets, walking briskly away from the clearing. After a dozen paces, he caught up with Harry.

"Stupid question," he said, by way of apology.

"Ask a stupid question get a stupid answer," Harry replied, glancing out of the corner of his eyes at Draco as he fell into step.

Draco tipped his head back with a laugh. "It's not very noble of you to offer me a free question and neglect to answer it."

"It's not very noble of you to as a personal question such as that," Harry replied evenly, putting his hands into his pockets.

Draco closed his eyes and turned his head towards Harry, only reopening them to look up at Potter through his lashes with a sultry expression.

"I was just curious," he drawled.

"How about if I asked you the question and you replied honestly? You'd get two questions to ask me in return," Harry offered. He turned his head slightly to the side to look down at Draco, green eyes glinting with mischief. 'Go on, I dare you.'

"You don't have to dare me, Potter," Draco said loftily. "I'm not too much of a wuss to answer straight off."

Harry smirked then turned to look away from Draco. "No point in asking someone a question you wouldn't answer yourself."

"Precisely. I take it that means you won't ask it, then?" Draco asked with a smirk.

"Naturally,"

Harry stared at the path ahead of them with a thoughtful expression. "You still have a question."

"I do," Draco nodded, secretly relieved. "Are you gay?"

Harry sighed, "One track mind I see." He frowned and continued to look at the path thoughtfully. "In all truth? Partially."

Draco grinned, his teeth shining in the darkness.

"Me too."

"Then there's finally something we agree on," Harry pointed out with a short smile. "In a way."

"There are plenty of things," Draco told him, shaking his head. "I know there are, but then I've been watching you and you've been trying to pretend I don't exist."

Harry raised an eyebrow to look at Draco. "Really?" he asked, unable to hide the surprise. "I thought that you were planning on more ways to kill me. Immature, I know, but what else could I think when you put every ounce of your being into hating me?"

"I suppose it would appear that way," Draco surmised. "I started out watching you to see if I could trip you up, but you're a fascinating person, Harry." He stopped himself, gazing up at the stars peering through the wispy film of clouds.

Harry paused to stop and watch Draco walk on slightly ahead, looking at the sky. Harry followed his gaze then fell into step with him again. "I'm not the only one."

"Oh?" Draco asked completely absently. "Who else is fascinating?"

Harry blinked. "You," he replied, without hesitating.

Draco glanced at him, arching a brow. "Not really. I'm a simple creature with simple urges."

"You're different. No one else looks at things the way you do, understands things how you do. I've never met a single person who is, well, you." He frowned, trying to search for a word.

"I tried to explain to Blaise that the way things work is really simple. We are born, we learn, we make a mistake, we die. He didn't understand." Draco looked up at Harry. "You don't think like I do. How come you even noticed it and don't just think I'm morbid?"

"Everyone has their own views on life, who am I to judge?" Harry shrugged. "That's your view and like everyone else, I respect it."

"No one respects me," Draco scoffed quietly. "People respect my status. They couldn't care less if I believed that fluffy bunnies would be the downfall of the world."

"No, then people would think you're strange." And then, more quietly, "I respect you."

"That's... You do?" Draco tried not to sound surprised. "Thanks, I guess."

He paused in mid-stride.

"I think you know what it's like to have people respect what you are without respecting you yourself."

"I've learnt to live with it. That's not to say I don't like it, but it's tough really." Harry's voice seemed somewhat depressed and he looked at the path again. "I'd give anything to be someone else for a day, to have a normal life style."

"Don't pick me when the time comes," Draco grinned, putting his hands up. "See, I told you we had a lot in common."

Harry stuck his tongue out at Draco. "So you were right. I've never really thought about it before."

"Because you're a Gryffindork," Draco said confidently. "Don't think, just act."

"It's got me this far."

"As has my method," Draco said reasonably.

"And what's your method? Glare till they run away and if they stay befriend them?" Harry asked.

Draco looked hurt. "I gave up the nice approach after I first spoke to you," he said eventually.

"You insulted Ron, the first person to talk to me. What did you expect I was going to do?" Harry asked with slight anger forming in his voice.

"I've been brought up... I don't know," Draco said, looking down at his feet.

"You can always change, you know." Harry reached out a hand to place on Draco's shoulder then thought better of it and dropped it to his side. "I wonder what things would be like if we had become friends then."

"Crap," Draco said instantly. "And no, I won't change. Not for money, not for success, not for fame, not for immortality. Not for you." He looked away and quickened his pace.

Harry felt the comment sting and watched Draco walk away faster. He sighed, burying his hands deeper into his pockets and watching the back of Draco's head intently. "Why did you ask to be my friend, Draco? Five years ago on the train. You didn't even know me, only the enigma. The great 'Harry Potter' the media had created."

Draco didn't answer for a time, but he slowed down slightly.

"Why not?" he asked. "You can be friends with anyone. Why can't I?"

"You seemed to idolise your father so much, I could tell from the moment I saw you in the way you walked. You could be friends with anyone you wanted, but you preferred to practically demand them to be. That's why I said no." He decided to carry on before Draco walked off, "but now, this year, you've changes without your father around. It's like you've become a whole different person, and this time people have been noticing you. You can still have any friend you want, but you know how to go about it now. Why else would I be your friend now and not then?"

"I didn't demand..." Draco began coldly, but he stopped. "You're not my friend, Potter. You're just one of the others who wants to tell me how to live... how to love."

He turned. "I don't need telling, Harry."

Harry didn't know what was happening, one second he was stood quite far away from Draco and the next he was wrapping his arms around the boy from behind.

"I'm not telling you," he said quietly, breath stirring the hairs on the back of Draco's neck. "I'm showing you."

Draco froze, a ripple running through his body. He leaned back against Harry involuntarily, then jumped.

"Fuck, I can hear something." He snatched Harry's hand and made to pull him into a bush, but it was too late. He stopped and straightened up slowly.

"Gentlemen," a crisp voice said. Draco looked guiltily into the eyes of Professor Grubbly-Plank. "It's a little late to be out on the border of the forest, don't you think?"

Draco nodded, looking at the floor.

"Detention, I think. Tomorrow, if you'd like to come with me, we can muck out the unicorn paddock. Eleven a.m., please." She stood; heels together and toes pointing out, hands linked behind her back, waiting for them to leave.

Draco nodded. "Tomorrow. Sorry professor." Reluctantly, he dropped Harry's hand and walked back towards the castle.

Harry looked up at Grubbly-Plank's stern stare and felt the need to kill the annoying woman who had taken Hagrid's position for a while. Finally, forcing a sickeningly sweet smile on his face he mumbled his apologies and briskly walked off after Draco. As they got into the Entrance Hall and away from Grubbly-Plank he grabbed Draco's hand again and turned him around, putting a defiant face on.

"Will you let me show you?" he asked.

Draco's lips parted and his breath steamed slightly in the cold air from the slowly closing door. He flicked his tongue over his lips, pulling them together, and swallowed.

"W- I ... Will I let...?" Draco fumbled over the words to the point of stopping himself to take a breath and start again. "Yes."

Harry seemed to relax, his face breaking into a wide smile that he hadn't been able to use since Cedric had died. "Thank you."

He glanced over his shoulder at the doors. "What time did she say it was? I really don't want to stay out any longer than necessary..."

"She didn't. She just said it was late."

"In other words, it's not late and she's just a sadistic bitch who wants to ruin some fun." Harry nodded.

A ghost of Draco's typical smirk flitted across his face. "Ruin some fun?"

Harry raised his eyebrow in return. "I was under the impression that you leaned on me."

"You were the one who put your arms around my waist, you poofter," Draco teased amiably.

"You were talking about Love and Friendships." Harry shrugged Draco's comment off.

"I wasn't. I was talking about hatred, misery and solitude."

"I'm not exactly going to show you hatred, misery and solitude am I?" Harry asked.

"You'd better not," Draco smiled.

Harry laughed and, remembering he was still holding it, dropped Draco's hand. "I promise." He paused for a while, looking around. "I wonder what anyone would say if they saw us having a normal conversation?"

"I wonder what anyone would say," Draco said, clearing his dry throat, "if they saw me do this."

Harry's eyes widened slowly, as all sorts of ideas of what Draco could possibly do next flew into his mind. And the only way to find out was to wait, even though he didn't want to right now.

He stepped up to Harry and slid his hand around the back of the boy's neck, fingers burying in the soft raven hair. Draco rested his other hand on Harry's jutting hipbone and lifted his face to the black-haired boy's, eyes lidded. Their noses touched and the Slytherin could feel the slight hairs on Harry's lip brushing against his own.

Then he stopped, a smirk building on his lips, so close to Harry's.

"I'm not about to cut this bond just yet," he murmured. "It might be useful yet."

He slipped his hands free and held Harry's eyes for a moment before walking down the side corridor to the dungeons.