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Title: New Year's Resolutions
Author/pseudonym: NemKess
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco/Harry 
Rating: PG
E-mail address for feedback:: nemsmuses@msn.com
Series/Sequel: Second in the Holiday Trilogy; sequel to 'A Christmas Truce'
Disclaimers: Harry Potter belong to me?  I could only wish.  Nope, not mine.  I believe he belongs to one J.K. Rowling..  I'm only borrowing him.

Notes: A lot of people asked for a sequel and so, here it is.  I decided it would be good to switch P.O.V.'s though.  This is from Draco's and I will probably write a third from Harry's.  This takes up a little before the end of the other so read it first or this won't make any sense.   And I will try very hard not to have to ever write Hagrid speaking again.  I'm horrible with trying to write his accent.

Warnings: pre-slash bordering on actual slash.   Also, this one is more serious than the last one- especially towards the latter half though I did try to end on a positive note.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.  Draco considered beating himself in the head with his fist to punctuate his annoyed thoughts, but decided against it.  He might have been stupid, but he wasn't that stupid.

On the other hand..

"Draco."

"What?"  He didn't care how peevish he sounded or how little Greg deserved to be the target of his bad mood.  At the moment, he was the only person there.

"Is there a reason why you're beating your head on the desk?"

Raising his bruised head, he glared at his friend.  A reason?  Yes, he was stupid.  Of course, Greg simply looked at him as if he'd sprouted wings when he relayed that.

"So?  You've been stupid before and you didn't give yourself a concussion because of it."

Draco sputtered at that a bit before composing himself.  It was too late not to react to the insult, but he'd be damned if he'd actually comment on it.  Instead, he turned his attention to the matter at hand.  "Potter is avoiding us."

"And?"

"And it's partially my fault," he ground out.  The blonde still believed that he was justified at being angry.  Potter should have at least let them know he was leaving, even if he hadn't told them exactly where he was going or what he was doing.  It was only polite after all.  Still, perhaps snubbing the smaller boy completely had been a bit harsh.  Potter had been raised muggle and Draco supposed that he couldn't really be expected to understand what constituted correct behavior.

"You're right, Draco.  You are stupid."  Greg blithely ignored the scowl sent in his direction as he never looked up from the sketch pad in his lap.  "It's completely your fault."

“Gregory Goyle, I insist you go up to the Gryffindor Tower and bring him back down here this instant.  Carry him if need be, but bring him to me.”

Goyle chuckled, but still didn’t glance at him.  “He’ll come down whenever he’s ready, Draco.  Forcing the issue will only upset him more.”

Pouting at that, Draco stood up and paced around the room for a few minutes  before sprawling onto his bed.  Staring up at the canopy, he pondered the last week.

For four days, their truce with the raven-haired Gryffindor Seeker had gone so well.  They'd built snowmen, had snowball fights, and played Quidditch.  When indoors, the trio had lazed about and talked.  Hells bells, they'd even eaten all their meals together, alternating between the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables.  And if Potter didn't always smile as much as Draco wished, those times when he did had been all the more precious.

He sighed and covered his face with the pillow, loosing an aggrieved growl into it's softness.

Being gay in this school was hard enough as few boys outside of Slytherin would even speak civilly to him never mind actually consider a snog.  Fancying Harry Potter was right up there with dreams of being a Potions master- out of reach and damned frustrating.

Not that the knowledge that he couldn’t have either kept him from tormenting himself with the want.

“Greg?” 

“Hmm?”

“Where’s that album Potter gave you?”

Greg finally looked up.  “Why d’ya ask?”

Draco sighed again.  He really should put his foot down one of these days.  His friends questioned him entirely too much.  He wondered if he was the only Malfoy who had to put up with that sort of thing.  “Because I want to owl it to You-Know-Who.”  Greg just grinned at his sarcasm.  “Why do you think I want it?”

The bigger boy was chuckling, but he did get up and hand Draco the album.  “Don’t tear it or anything.  I don’t imagine anything would piss Potter off worse.”

The pair shared a shudder as they remembered the Gryffindors confession about wandless magic.  He’d never really been afraid of Potter, but then, he’d never known the fire he’d been playing with over the years. 

Shaking off the thought, he opened up the album and began studying its contents.  There was, of course, that first picture of the Potter’s back when they’d still been alive.  The adults still smiled at him.  The baby gurgled as happy as before, paying little attention to anything other than his parents.

Turning the page, he found the infamous trio laughing and grinning at him.  Running his fingers over the first year picture, he took in their happy, easy expressions and tried to remember if Harry had laughed- a genuine one, full of this joy- since the hols had began.  The closest he’d come had been when they’d made fun of Snape that first night.

Flipping through the album, he noticed that the first year one was the only picture where Potter didn’t have shadows lurking in his expression.  Fifth year was the worst, and gazing at the absolutely miserable emerald eyes half hidden behind those horrid glasses, he couldn’t help but wonder why the other boy had bothered to include it. 

There were no sixth year pictures with Potter in them, although there were a handful of the other Gryffindors.  Of course, that was long after the Boy Who Lived had terrorized Creevey into leaving him alone, so Draco hadn’t expected there to be.  He barely glanced at the one he’d already seen of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.  He didn’t care to think about how the latter had spent over a decade in Azkaban for a crime that he hadn’t committed.  He wasn’t sure why he believed Potter’s explanation- after all, it had been crazy and challenged a tale he’d heard for as long as he could remember- but he did.  And, more than that, it gave him a warm feeling to have been trusted with something so personal for his fellow wizard.

At the end, he found one of Potter, Black, and Lupin together.  He gauged it to have been taken sometime earlier in the school year.  All three looked weary and haunted, but they also seemed happy to be together.

His godfather… Amazing.

Was nothing about Harry Potter normal?

Somehow he doubted it.

He closed the album and lay his head against the leather cover. 

Morning would bring Christmas and presents.  Draco’s last thought before sleep caught up was to wonder if Harry would at least show up for the feast.

~*~*~

Pouting a bit, Draco stabbed at his eggs with his fork while letting his friend’s deep voice wash over him.  They’d been at the table for over a half an hour and so far it looked as if Potter was going to continue to avoid them.

He was the only student who hadn’t shown up for breakfast and not even Creevey knew whether or not the older Gryffindor planned on making an appearance.

“Are you sure you won’t fetch him?”

Greg looked startled at the sudden deviation from the current topic of presents, but he just shook his head.  “I told you last night, Draco.  It’s better he comes down on his own.”

Sighing unhappily, Draco rested his head on his curled fist and stared over at the Gryffindor table.  It just didn’t seem fair that he’d finally managed to gain some companionship with Harry Potter only to have it all lost because of a simple misunderstanding. 

Weren’t Gryffindors supposed to be just and loyal?

He frowned for a second.

No..  That was Hufflepuffs.

Gryffindors were brave and lacking of common sense, rushing in even when everyone else could tell it was suicide.

He was distracted from his musings as the doors of the Great Hall burst open and Draco looked up to see the object of his thoughts enter with Professor Lupin and a dog. 

“Oh.  Um.”  He tore his eyes away from the entourage heading his way to see Greg looking at him apologetically.

“What?”

His bigger companion leaned over so that he wouldn’t be overheard.  “At the train station Potter told Granger and Weasely that Lupin was coming to see him a few days before Christmas.  I’m sorry, Draco, it completely slipped my mind.”

Draco glared at his friend.  He’d just spent the last three days worrying that his own anger had ruined any chance for anything non-hostile with Potter because it had ‘slipped his mind’?  And what of Potter himself?  He couldn’t have just mentioned that he’d be unavailable?

Didn’t anybody else understand terms like ‘polite’ and ‘good manners’ anymore?

Potter arrived at their side before Draco could open his mouth to chastise Greg.

“Here you are!  Happy Christmas!”

He paid little attention to those around him as he ran his hands over the gaudily wrapped gift that Potter had deposited onto the table in front of him.  Perhaps it was shallow of him, but the blonde had always enjoyed getting presents.

He scrunched his nose in disdain as he noticed the way Greg just ripped into the other package.  He opened his own much more carefully. 

Once the paper had been gently pulled aside, he couldn’t help the gasp that escaped.

Inside, Draco found the super deluxe potions kit that he drooled over every time he went into the potions shop in Hogsmeade.  His hands were shaking faintly as he picked it up and set the box to the side so he could see the book underneath it.

The title read ‘Everything a Future Potions Master Needs To Know’.

How in Merlin’s name had Harry known?  Though they’d spoken of any number of things since the holiday had begun, he was almost positive that it hadn’t come up. 

Looking up, he caught the hopeful smile sent his way.  “I hope it’s the right one.  The shop owner seemed to recall that you’d particularly wanted it.  But, he may have just been trying to get me to spend more money.”

Mouth working, Draco couldn’t form a reply.  Too many thoughts and feelings were tangled around inside him.  It was the only thing he’d ever really wanted that had been denied him by his father and no one else had ever dared to challenge Lucius Malfoy’s decision.

Only Harry.

Before he was even aware of what he was doing, Draco had nearly bowled the shorter boy over. 

“Thank You, Harry!  It’s absolutely perfect!”  Draco’s voice was muffled as he buried his face in the raven locks of his former enemy.   He inhaled deeply, taking in the clean spicy smell that permeated the messy hair.

For a second, he was afraid he’d overstepped his bounds as Harry shifted a bit, small seeker hands fluttering uneasily along Draco’s sides before settling against his back.

A shiver crept down his spine as the soft chuckle caused warm breath to tickle his neck.  “You’re welcome, Draco.”

He was enjoying the closeness when something occurred to him and he pulled back to look down at the boy in his arms worriedly.  “But I didn’t get you anything.”

The Gryffindor just smiled.  “S’all right.  I didn’t get you a present so that you’d have to get me one.  Besides, you taught me how to build a snowman with magic.  That’s gift enough for me.”

Draco smiled back and for a moment, the pair just gazed at one another.  Had the moment gone on any longer, the Slytherin was sure he’d have done something incredibly foolish like leaning down to kiss that enchanting smile.

As it was, he was saved from the possible embarrassment when Greg’s voice, much whinier than usual, broke the silence. 

“Gift enough or not, open the one I gave you!”

With a chuckle, Harry opened the flat package Greg had given him, revealing a handful of sketches.

Draco sat back down, out of the way.  He knew how talented his friend was and had already seen some of the drawings.  He was content to wait until later to see the rest.  Instead, he concentrated on Harry’s reactions to the gift.

He suspected he was the only one watching the other boy close enough to notice the tears that were quickly blinked away.

The blonde seeker started in surprise as Greg reached in at the end and grabbed one of the drawings.

 “Sorry bout that.” Draco took the picture automatically and his own breath caught when he realized what it was.

When had Greg found the time to draw this? 

To one side, there was Harry, grinning brightly, dark hair all atangle.  And leaning in close on the other side was his own face, more content and happy than he ever imagined himself.

He ran his finger over the image and looked down to see the Gryffindor doing the same.

Was this how his friend had seen them all week?

“Thank you, Greg.  It’s a wonderful gift.”  There was a catch in the smooth baritone and Harry smiled up at the larger Slytherin.  Shifting back through the other parchments, he separated them into two stacks.  Turning to the former professor who’d taken a seat a bit further down to give the boys some privacy, he held out one of the stacks.  “Here, Remus.  These are for you and.. well, these are for you.”

The werewolf’s usual placid expression was chased away by far too many emotions for Draco to sort out. 

Mouth opening and closing a few times Lupin struggled in vain to find words before he finally gave up and pulled both Harry and Greg into a tight hug.  “Thank you, boys.  Thank you very, very much.”

Greg grinned and returned the hug before pulling back.  Harry, Draco was surprised to note, looked every bit as uncomfortable in his former teacher’s embrace as he’d seemed to feel before.  Thinking on it, the Slytherin realized that except for rare occasions, he’d never seen the dark haired seeker willingly maintain close contact with anyone for more than a moment or two- not even Granger and Weasely.  He made a mental note to ask about that later- or at the very least, to ask Greg if he’d noticed it as well.

The dog at their feet started yipping and bouncing around Harry’s legs, causing everyone to laugh. 

Potter dropped to his knees and wrapped lightly tanned arms around the mutt’s neck.  “Sorry, Snuffles.  I didn’t have any pictures with you in them.  Perhaps, Colin could-“

With a sudden ‘EEP!’, the younger Gryffindor- who’d obviously been hanging on every word-, jumped up and ran from the Great Hall.

There was a sudden silence as everyone turned from the door to Harry where he still knelt, his face buried in Snuffles fur.  It didn’t keep those close enough from seeing the red ears and neck.

“Now, now, Harry.  You really shouldn’t terrorize your fellow students so.”  Dumbledore’s amused words added to everyone’s merriment.

Well, everyone except Harry who groaned and seemed to try to hide behind the dog.

Draco snickered and nudged the embarrassed boy’s hip with his foot.  “You know, Potter, that dog is big.  But it’s not that big.  You might as well give up using him as a shield.”

Emerald eyes peeked over the dark fur to glare at him weakly for a moment before the rest of the Harry’s face appeared with a sheepish smile.   “I s’pose you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.  I usually am.”

That pompous statement led to a playful argument that lasted all the way through the meal until Lupin broke in and reminded Harry that his visiting time was growing short.  The disheveled pair of Gryffindors left the Great Hall, their four legged friend trailing happily behind.

After he’d watched them vanish through the doors, Draco scooped up his Christmas present and headed for the dungeons after he made his excuses to Greg. 

He wasn’t sure what was better- the fact that Harry Potter was happy and still on friendly terms with him, or the wonderfully insightful gift.

It didn’t matter, he supposed. 

Either way, winter break was certainly looking up.

~*~*~

Several hours later, Greg's rumbling laughter broke Draco's concentration as he was sorting through the various jars of ingredients that had been included with his new potion's kit.  Looking up, he had to smile at the picture his rumpled friends made.  Greg was easily the largest boy in their year- possibly in the entire school.  Harry, on the other hand, was as small as some of the third years.  

"Hullo, Draco!"  The pair chorused.

His smile changed to a scowl when his fellow Slytherin reached over and ruffled his hair.  "How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?" he growled.   Luckily, his hair was well trained from years of being slicked back and it only took a few strokes of his hand to get it back into place.  

A soft snicker from the chair that Potter had claimed made him glare in that direction as a blush crept up his cheeks.

"You are such a priss."  

The honest amusement in Harry's eyes made it difficult for Draco to hold his anger and indignation.  Instead, he raised a brow.  " There is absolutely nothing wrong with taking pride in one's appearance."  He gestured towards the other boy's hair.  "I should have gotten you a brush for Christmas."

A small sheepish smile lit the Gryffindors features as he ran fingers through his own tangled mop.  "Well, brushes don't seem to work all that well.  'Mione even tried a grooming spell once.  It barely managed to tame it at all and it only lasted for a half hour or so."

Both Slytherins had to laugh at that.  Draco shook his head.  "Why am I not surprised?"

"What are you doing anyways?"  Harry asked in an obvious attempt to change the subject.

The blonde turned back to his task as he answered.  "I'm checking to make sure that everything that's supposed to be here is.  Some of the shopkeepers can be a little devious.  They'll cheat you if you're not careful."  He decided to ignore Harry's muffled snort and comment of 'this from a Slytherin?'.  "Also, this particular kit is so expensive because it comes with some of the more rare and difficult to obtain ingredients.  Unicorn's horn, gillyweed,  basilisk's blood and scales," at that point, the raven haired boy- who had been leaning in close to look as he pointed out the ingredients- pulled back sharply and shuddered.  Draco and Goyle shared a curious look, but neither questioned the reaction.  "Things like that.  Snape is low on some of them and out of others.  I won't really need them much, so I thought I'd see if I had enough to share them with him in exchange for free use of ingredients I'll need more often."

"Hm.  What could basilisk ingredients possibly be good for?"  There was a distant look of distaste on the boy's face as he asked the question and Draco had to wonder if he had something against snakes in general or just basilisk's in particular.  He'd have thought a Parsletongue would have an affinity for all the scaly little critters.

He'd have to ask later.  "Oh, all sorts of things."  For the moment he had an interested audience to display his amazing potions knowledge before.

Greg apparently recognized where this was all going because he sighed and stood up.  "You've done it now, Harry.  Enjoy the lecture.  I, for one, have better things to do."  With that, their large friend ambled out of the room.  

Potter looked a little wary at the warning, but seemed to have resigned himself for whatever he'd gotten himself into. 

Bless that Gryffindor courage and lack of sense!

"Basilisk blood is used in some of the strongest truth serums made, such as veritaserum.  Veritaserum, as you know, is mostly used when a suspected criminal goes on trial before being put in Azkaban.  It only takes three drops to render a person absolutely incapable of even the tiniest fib.    Jobberknoll feathers are used for the weaker ones because they're more plentiful and easier to find.  The venom is a main ingredient for any number of poisons..."

A glazed look had appeared in Harry's eyes somewhere along the Jobberknoll feathers and didn't leave for the rest of the night as Draco continued to extol the various uses of a basilisk, frequently segueing off onto other potion tangents.  The Slytherin didn't really mind.  Most of his other friends would have been up and running before he'd even gotten the first sentence out, as Greg had already proved.  At least Harry had made an attempt.  Snape was the only one he could actually converse with about his favorite subject and the Professor was usually too busy or in a bad mood.

He often talked out loud to himself when he was messing about with his potions work because he tended to learn better when he could actually hear the information.  It got boring sometimes though.  Draco had been accused frequently of loving the sound of his own voice, and there was perhaps, some small truth in that.  But it was ever so much nicer to be able to share both his knowledge and his voice with someone else.

Besides, he figured Harry was used to it considering the fact that he'd been hanging out with the walking Textbook for the last six years.  At least potions was interesting.  Granger was known to ramble on and on and on about just anything and everything that had ever been written into a book.

Of course, Draco completely ignored the fact that only he and Professor Snape actually enjoyed talking about potions.  To him, it was obvious that everyone else were just plebeians who wouldn't know a good subject if it blew up in their faces.  

"Now look, Draco, you've put the poor thing to sleep."

Startled, the aristocrat looked first at where Greg was propped in the doorway grinning at him and then over to where Harry had fallen asleep in the other chair.  With a sheepish look, he scratched the back of his neck and glanced over at the clock.

He'd talked for hours!

It was well past curfew now.  There was no way that even The Boy Who Lived to Break the Rules would be able to sneak all the way back to the Gryffindor Tower this late at night.  He'd have to make it past Snape, Peeves, Filch, and MacGonagal.

Nodding decisively, he stood up and turned back to his friend.  "There's no sense in waking him up when he's stuck here anyways.  Pick him up, Greg.  He can sleep in Blaise's bed tonight."

Goyle nodded and moved over to the chair.  Gently, he lifted the sleeping Gryffindor up into his arms, cradling him close.   The small figure snuffled cutely before cuddling against his chest.  Draco had to stifle a stab of jealousy at that.  If he'd been strong enough, he'd have carried Harry himself.  As it was, he walked ahead of Greg, opening and closing doors quietly.

Once they had the boy settled the friends got themselves ready for bed, making occasional quiet comments to one another.

Dressed in his sleep clothes, Draco sat gingerly on the edge of the occupied bed and just watched Harry sleep for a while.  Even in his sleep, there were lines of disquiet and unhappiness marking his face though they had softened out a bit.  It saddened the blonde Slytherin to see.  How many of those lines had he caused over the years?  

The Savior of the Wizarding World shouldn't have had such hard life.  

His thoughts were interrupted before they could spiral down into complete depression.

"Draco?  You should get some sleep.  I'm sure it'll be a busy day tomorrow."

He bit back the urge to remind Greg that he was a big boy who could take care of himself.  He didn't need to be told to go to bed.  Besides which, he was a Malfoy.  If he wanted to stay awake til dawn watching Harry bloody Potter sleep, then it was well within his rights to do so.

His friend was only concerned about him and so, Draco didn't snap at him as he would have anyone else who had dared tell him what to do.  He just grunted his agreement and with one last lingering look at the shadowed face, forced himself to move.

"Nox."  With a whispered command, the lights went out.

As he settled himself into his own bed and snuggled into his blankets, he remembered that he'd wanted to ask Greg something.  "Hey Greg?"

"Hmm?"

"Was it just me, or did Harry seem really uncomfortable this morning?"

He could hear his friend shifting around and knew that the other boy had turned to face him, even though he couldn't see it in the darkness.

There was a long pause before Greg's deep voice answered.  "A little.  I got the feeling he doesn't really like much close contact."

"Me too.  D'ya think the rumors are true then?"

"Which ones?"

Draco bit his lip.  Greg was right, there were always dozens of rumors flying around about Potter.  Some were amusing, others down right disturbing.  "I don't know.  Any of them, I guess."

"Maybe.  I don't think he had much of a childhood."

After the snowman thing, Draco was inclined to agree.  What kind of childhood produced a boy, muggle or wizard, that had never built a snowman?  Or had snowball fights?  Harry seemed to take a simple pleasure in any number of things that the two Slytherins considered commonplace.

"True."

"I'm sure Granger and the Weasley's make up for it."

There was silence for a minute as Draco thought that over.  The wonder Trio did seem to have a lot of fun.  Even if they had to break an untold number of rules to do so.

"Greg?"

"Yes?"

He ignored the exasperation in his friend's voice.  "Do you think he likes us?"

"He did get us Christmas gifts."  Greg sounded more amused than annoyed as he pointed that out.  "Now go to sleep, Draco.  Or you'll have bags under your eyes."

Well.  He couldn't have that, now could he?  Although, he wasn't really tired and didn't think he'd be able to fall asleep any time soon. 

With a disgruntled sigh, he closed his eyes and within moments, drifted off.

~*~*~

In the days that followed, it was a common sight to see the trio around the school.  The other students had stopped asking Harry if he was sick or not and the staff, with the exception of MacGonagal, seemed to accept that they'd become something less than enemies- possibly even (they all shuddered at the thought) friends.

Excepting a short disappearance that Harry had made the morning after Christmas, the pair of Slytherins and the Gryffindor spent almost no time apart.

They'd even taken to spending the nights either in one dorm or the other, something that was met on Draco's part with mixed delight (those nights they spent in the soothing comfort of the dungeons) and horror (on the nights they spent in that horrid sea of red and gold).  Harry fit into the Slytherin dorms far more easily than his companions fit into the towers and Draco saw fit to inform the smaller boy of that at dinner one night.

"You know, Harry, I think that instead of switching dorms each night, we should just stay in the dungeons for the rest of the hols."  

Pushing messy hair up away from his eyes, Harry looked across the table at Draco with a bemused look.  "Really?  Why is that?"  He picked up his goblet.

"Well, isn't it obvious?"

His shorter dinner companion merely raised his brows and sent him a look over the rim of the goblet as he took a swallow- clearly stating that obvious to Draco was usually obscure to everyone else.

"You fit it in ever so much better in the dungeons than we do up in the tower."

The Gryffindor promptly spit his pumpkin juice out all over the table and onto a first year who'd have the misfortune of daring to sit next to him. He leaned over, dropping his forehead into the mess he'd just made and began making a choking sound that had several people- Draco and Greg included- leaning over him, concerned. 

Worried that he might have accidentally killed the Boy-Who-Lived, Draco slid over the table- carefully avoiding getting any of the spilt juice on his impeccable robes- and gently patted the curved spine.   "Harry, are you okay?  Say something please.  You're scaring the first years."

Grimacing, he used his other hand to smooth back the now soaked locks of raven, trying to see his new friends face.

Finally Harry lifted his head, and Draco couldn't resist the urge to slap him on the back of the head when he realized that the other boy had been laughing, not choking.  The object of his ire only chuckled a bit more as he adjusted his glasses with one hand and rubbed the back of his head with the other.  "Why, thank you for the thought, Draco."

He smiled as the blonde once again slid carefully across the table, completely ignoring the admonishment sent to him from MacGonagal.  Now that the apparent crisis was over, all the students and teachers had gone back to their meals.

"So.. What was so funny anyways?  All I said was that I thought you fit in our dorms."  

The smile being directed his way deepened and took on a secretive cast.  "Oh, it was nothing.  Just something someone said to me once.  That's all."

Now if there was one thing the blonde Slytherin hated, it was a secret that he didn't know.  And it was pretty obvious that Harry had one.

"So, what was it?  You can't go around scaring the bejeesus out of everyone and then keep the joke to yourself.  That's not polite."

Chuckling, Harry used his napkin to wipe off his face.  "As you've frequently seen fit to tell me, I was raised improperly and not taught about manners."  Draco was momentarily distracted as glasses came off and naked green eyes were exposed to his view as Harry tried to get the sticky pumpkin juice off.

"He's got you there, Draco.  You are always saying that."  He was jerked back from the overly sappy thoughts that had been swirling in his head about Harry's eyes when a large elbow planted itself in his ribcage. 

"Oof."  Turning a scowl on his long time friend, he returned his attention to more important matters.  "How many times must I tell you not to do that.  I swear, one day you're going to break my ribs!  As it is, I'm going to have a huge bruise tomorrow!"  

"You know, Greg," across from them, their companion had given up on trying to clean up his spectacles and was watching them with a greatly amused look.  "I always thought that prissy whining about injuries was just to get us Gryffindors into trouble.  I never would have imagined that it was just an honest to goodness part of his personality.  How in Godric's name have you Slytherins dealt with it for the last six years?"

Draco rounded on him, intending to deliver a stinging reprimand for the insult when Goyle began laughing.  "Practice.  Most of us have known him since we were very young.  And after a while you learn to ignore it out of self-defense."

The banter left him sputtering and red faced as his gaze swung from one to the other in indignation.  How dare they?!  He was Draco Malfoy!  He wasn't even aware he'd said the last bit out loud until another round of laughter started around him.

"Yes, Draco.  We're all very aware of who you are."  Greg's voice was definitely on the patronizing side as he reached over and patted Draco's shoulder in a commiserating sort of way.

He finally just through his hands up when the first year that Harry had spit on chose that moment to chirp up.  "You certainly make sure to tell everyone often enough!  Will you tell your father to try and have them expelled?!"  The little twit, a Hufflepuff, was looking at the trio with big round eyes and it was painfully obvious that someone had been spreading tales again.

"I'll have you know that I do not run to my father with every little problem that I have."

"Really?  When did that start?"  

Pouting, he ignored the question- from Greg of all people, the traitor- and turned his full attention to his food.  "What is this?  Pick On Draco Day?"

"I'm sorry, Draco.  You know we're just messing you about, right?"  

Even behind the dirty glasses, it was impossible not to notice the pleading and worry in those impossibly large green eyes and he had to sigh.  The Savior of the Wizarding World looked like he was afraid someone was going to take away his Firebolt- which really went a long way in soothing Draco's wounded ego.  It wasn't every day he was placed in the same category as the coveted racing broom- which, even after three years on the market still hadn't been surpassed.  "Yes, Harry.  I'm well aware that I am tonight's main course in the Feast of Amusement."  Then he smiled faintly.  "Don't worry about it.  I suppose I shouldn't have gotten so defensive."

"Well, now that that's settled, are you guys done?  I really need to go clean up."

It was Draco's turn to snicker at the messy sight that Harry's hair presented.  The pumpkin juice had dried causing the front fringe to stand straight up and the bits that had gotten hit on top were sticking out in every which direction.  Instead of merely looking disheveled, it actually looked quite a fright.  It was going to take a miracle to return it to any semblance of normalcy, or a really strong shampoo treatment.  

Luckily, the 'prissy' Slytherin had just the thing.  "Come on, Harry.  You can borrow my shampoo.  I doubt whatever you've been using will make a dent in that mess."

Harry blushed, but nodded as he murmured his thanks and the trio stood to go.

"Misters Potter, Malfoy, and Goyle?  Could I perhaps see you in my office once you're all cleaned up?"

They turned to face Professor Dumbledore with some confusion, although Harry's face cleared as he shared a look with the Headmaster.  It unnerved Draco a bit, the way they seemed to understand each other even when there were no words spoken.  It told him that the dark-haired boy spent entirely too much time interacting with the old man- and not in completely favorable conditions.  His father and Snape had that same kind of thing going and he knew it had been born of battles faced together back in the days of You-Know-Who's first reign.

He didn't like the idea of Harry needing to share that kind of silent communication with anyone.

The three boys gave their agreement before leaving.

"What's that all about?"

Harry simply shrugged.  We'll find out when we get there, I guess."

The Slytherins shared a look over their shorter companion's head.  Draco arched one brow in question and Greg nodded an affirmative.  They'd both caught the look.  

For a moment, Draco considered perusing it, but changed his mind.  There wasn't any point in it.  It wouldn't take long to get Harry cleaned up, and then they'd all be in on that particular secret.

~*~*~

Two hours later found the Slytherins following their Gryffindor cohort through the often-times confusing maze of hallways to Dumbledore's office.  Neither of them had actually been to the Headmaster's office, but Harry seemed to have no difficulty at all in finding it.

Within minutes they were standing in front of a stone gargoyle that Draco had admired many times.  

Harry walked right up to it.  "Everlasting Gobstoppers."

The pair behind him startled a bit as the gargoyle rumbled to a start, winding it's way up and exposing a staircase as it went.  Draco gave a bark of laughter.  "What the devil is 'everlasting gobstoppers' supposed to mean?"

There was a sheepish look on Harry's face as he shrugged.  "It's a muggle candy.  Dumbledore has a bit of a sweet tooth."  With a hop up, he got on the steps and let them carry him up.  Peering down, he gestured for them to follow.  "Well, are you coming or aren't you?"

Draco snickered and bit his lip to keep from replying to the unintentional double entendre.  Greg just rolled his eyes and elbowed him again as they followed.  "Really, Draco.  You've got such a dirty mind."

"Perhaps, but you knew what I was thinking, so that means your mind is just as bad.  And stop elbowing me.  My ribs still hurt from earlier."  He looked up to see Harry grinning down at him.  It was nice to see that the other boy was smiling more, but he'd have preferred that it happened less often at his own expense.  "What?"

"Just listening to you, Your Prissiness."

That statement was followed by a soft chuckling by both of his friends as Draco responded by simply sticking his nose in the air and pretending to ignore them.

The old gargoyle ground to a halt and they followed Harry as he approached a door and knocked softly.  Faintly, Draco could hear the Headmaster tell them to enter as the dark haired boy pushed open the door.

The first thing the aristocrat noticed was the Phoenix perched on the Headmaster's desk.  He stared at it in near awe for a moment.  After all, phoenixes were among some of the rarest creatures in all of the magical world.  Even the entire Malfoy fortune couldn't purchase one.  

It trilled softly before flapping it's wings and flying gently over to land on Harry's shoulder where it proceeded to nuzzle on his ear.  "Hello, Fawkes."  There was a great deal of warmth and affection in the Gryffindors voice and on his face and for a moment, Draco wondered what it would be like to have that look directed at him.  Harry looked up at him and his soft smile grew, almost as if he'd heard the thought.

Draco shook it off as a fanciful notion, but treasured the smile none the less.

"Sit down, boys.  It'll be just a moment more."  The old man smiled at them benignly from his own perch behind the weighed down desk.  "My other guest should be here in just a moment."

Just then, Snape came through the door at the same time as he knocked.  The younger potions lover wrinkled his nose at his mentor.  In his own opinion, coming through before you were called rather canceled out the whole point of being polite enough to knock in the first place.  But of course, no one asked for his opinion.

"Now that we are all here, it's time to get down to business."  Dumbledore shifted a few scrolls around his desk and picked up a crystal bowl.  Holding it out he smiled.  "Lemon drop?"

Both Snape and Draco declined.  Harry took one with a polite thank you and Greg asked if he could have more than one.

Fawkes shook his body, one of his wings seeming to caress the raven head next to him, before flapping gently over to a bird perch beside the desk.

After the whole candy business was taken care of, Dumbledore took on a more serious expression before continuing.  "It's come to my attention that the Potions laboratory is lacking some very rare and expensive ingredients.  Among them, those that can be taken from a basilisk corpse.  It just so happens, that Mr. Potter knows where a basilisk corpse is."  He paused a moment and all eyes went to Harry as he shuddered.  "It's location is a secret, however, and we don't want just anyone going down there gathering the ingredients.  Severus and I have talked it over and agree that the best solution to the most problems is for the four of you to go by yourselves."

"Professor..."

One wrinkled hand raised to halt Harry's uneasy protest.  "I know that you'd rather not, Harry.  And I do understand, especially in light of your recent..." he spared the Slytherins a calculating look before continuing, "illness.  However, I feel that this is something that you need to do.  And it would be of a great help to the school.  You're the only one who can open the door."

Draco watched in a mute combination of fascination and horror as Harry Potter, the Wonderkid of the Wizarding World, let himself be bullied into doing something he obviously didn't want to do.

Sighing unhappily, Harry nodded his agreement.  "Yes, sir."

"Thank you.  Now, Professor Snape has some errands that will require his attention over the next couple of days, but I think he'll have it wrapped up by, the first Severus?"  Dumbledore was gazing over his glasses at the Potions professor who looked like he couldn't decide whether to be happy that he was finally getting some badly needed potions ingredients, cheaply at that, or pissed that he had his least favorite student to thank for it.  His expression seemed to have settled somewhere between the two emotions and it produced a rather comical effect.  Draco was sure that at any other time, he and Harry would have gotten a good laugh out of it.

As it was, the Gryffindor only looked miserable.

"If at all possible, I want to get it done before then.  I'll let the three of you know when I'll be requiring your services."  With that, he nodded briefly to the Headmaster before sweeping out of the office, his cape flapping behind him like giant bat wings.

"Harry?"

"Will there be anything else, Professor?"

With a tired sigh of his own, Dumbledore shook his head and gestured towards the door.  "No, Harry.  That will be all.  Please continue to enjoy your holiday."

As the small group left the office, Draco and Greg exchanged another look but neither seemed to know what to do.

"Do you guys mind if we sleep in the Gryffindor dorms again tonight?"  The small voice shook faintly and Draco hesitantly touched the slender arm closest to him.

"Are you all right, Harry?"

Harry took a deep breath before looking up at him from underneath a fringe of disorderly black bangs.  "I'm fine, really."

Now Draco might not have been the smartest student at Hogwart's- he had to concede that title, however grudgingly, to Granger- but neither was he the dullest- that one went to his friend Vince- and he could tell that Harry was lying.  Either way, it hardly took a brainiac to notice the faint trembling in the arm under his hand or the tension in Potter's set jaw.  

The Slytherin wanted to push, demand answers.  He wanted to know about the secret joke at dinner.  He wanted to know why Harry knew where a dead basilisk was and if it had anything to do with his distaste for the creatures.  He wanted to know why a boy strong enough to stand up to the darkest wizard in recent years allowed himself to be pushed around by one senile old man.  And above all else, he wanted to know about the mysterious illness that his friend had apparently suffered from.

But he didn't push.  Because he wasn't sure if they're friendship was sound enough to allow it and he didn't want to push Harry away completely.  He'd spent days before Christmas worrying himself into a near frenzy thinking he'd done that before.  He didn't want to do it for real now.

So in a rare display of tact, he simply nodded and watched in silence as Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

Instead of clearing things up, the visit to the Headmaster's office had left him with even more questions than before. 

He was still thinking it over when he fell asleep in the Gryffindor Tower that night.

~*~*~

"So, wha're wu don t'day?"  

Draco frowned at Harry and wrinkled his nose.  "You shouldn't speak with your mouth full."

The Gryffindor raised a brow at that, but obediently finished chewing the bite of omelet that filled his mouth and swallowed before trying again.  "I said 'so, what are we doing today?'."  Then, he turned to Greg.  "Is he always such a stickler for manners or is it something he reserves just for me?"

The larger boy shook his head as he swallowed his own breakfast.  "Nah, it's not just you.  He's like that with everyone.  Unless he's telling us we should be studying."

Potter grinned at the Slytherins.  "That sounds like 'Mione."

The sounds of choking could be heard thought the Great Hall and Goyle helpfully patted his blonde friend on the back- hard. 

"Stop, Goyle!  You're going to break my spine."  He scowled at his companions, first the huge oaf beside him and then the blasphemer across the table.  "How dare you compare me to that M-  Oof!"  A large elbow to his side cut off the exclamation before it could get all the way out of his mouth.  It gave him the needed moment to realize what he was about to say and who he was about to say it to.  The raven-haired Seeker was staring at him, eyes hard, all traces of earlier amusement gone as if they'd never been.

Standing, the boy continued to look at him, sorrow seeming to war with the terrible anger in his eyes. 

"Harry-"

"I'm going now.  I fear I've lost my appetite."  And with that, he left.  His stiff back was out the Hall doors before it had fully processed in Draco's mind that he'd blown it again.

"Mr. Malfoy,"  He glanced back, startled to see Snape standing behind him with an amused look on his face.  "It occurs to me that insulting someone's friends is probably not the best way to stay in their good graces.  Particularly if that person is either a Hufflepuff or a Gryffindor.  They tend to frown on that sort of thing.  Luckily, they also tend to be swayed with suitably humble apologies."  

Nodding pleasantly to his Slytherins, the dark professor made his way up to the head table.

"Ha!  We won! Pay up, Creevey!  I knew it wouldn't last until New Year's!"  Draco turned to glare at a pair fourth year Ravenclaws who'd cornered a scowling Colin Creevey.

"Greg?"  

"Hmm?"  His big friend was gazing forlornly at the doors instead of paying attention to the commotion caused by the betters.  

"I'm going to find Harry.  Please deal with these insolent little gamblers."

The Slytherin beater cracked his knuckles and stood, towering over the cowering little brats.  It seemed they'd finally grasped the inherent dangers of angering Slytherins.  "With pleasure."

Confident that Goyle could take care of those who'd had the audacity to bet on their tentatively growing friendship, Draco pushed away from the table and rose as regally as the pureblood he was.  He didn't really understand why something as meaningless as a word had upset Harry, but he supposed he couldn't go around calling Granger a Mudblood unless he wanted to find himself at odds with the Gryffindor again.  

Out in the Hallway, he could only stand there, looking lost.  His fellow seeker was already gone and the possibilities of his newest location were endless.  The night before, when he'd been upset, he'd wanted to go back to the Gryffindor Tower so Draco took a few steps in that direction before stopping again.

That had been after curfew when his only choices were the dungeons and the tower.  It was broad daylight now and he couldn't see Harry cooping himself up if he didn't have to.

"Yer lookin for 'Arry, Malfoy?"

Draco turned to see Hagrid watching him with hooded eyes.  He opened his mouth to tell the oaf off for daring to speak to him in such a impertinent manner.  Luckily, his brain caught up in time to keep his mouth from getting him into more trouble than he already was.  Somehow he didn't think that insulting two of Harry's friends in less than ten minutes was going to endear him to the boy- and he didn't doubt at all that the half-giant would waste very little time in informing him.

Besides which, Hagrid just might know where his prey had hidden himself.  "Yes..."  He just couldn't bring himself to say 'sir', so he settled for something a little easier, "Hagrid.  Do you know where he is?  I sort of upset him, and I'd like to apologize."

That was hard to admit.  He was a Malfoy and Malfoy's just didn't do apologies.  If it was anyone else, Draco would have said that if they're skin wasn't thick enough to take an insult not even directed at them, then they weren't worth his time.  

But it wasn't anyone else.  It was Harry Bloody Potter and the entire Wizarding World bent over backwards for him in one fashion or another.  It didn't really surprise him much that he was about to do the same.

Hagrid just watched him for a long minute and Draco was starting to squirm uneasily on the inside under that hard gaze.  

He'd just about lost control of himself when the half-giant sighed and moved across the hall to look out the windows.  "I dun care fer ya, young Malfoy an I ain't nev'r bothered ta 'ide that anymore than you've 'id yer disgust fer me.  I still dun care fer ya."  Draco had resigned himself to a long search when the teacher sighed and turned back to him.  "Bu' this 'oliday, 'Arry's as 'appy as I've seen 'im fer a while now.  An' that's mostly due ta Goyle an' ya.  Bu' I'm warnin ya, Malfoy.  Upset 'im again an I'll not be 'eld accountable fer my actions."

Silvery blue eyes widened at the perceived threat and Draco shuddered when he realized that Hagrid was perfectly serious.  What an odd loyal bunch of friends you've managed to collect over the years, Potter.  Each willing to die, maim, or even kill for you.  And me, poor pathetic sod that I am just added myself to the list.  Oh joy.  "I would never hurt Harry intentionally."  

That was true enough and seemed to relieve some of the giant's distrust.  

"Depends on 'ow upset 'e was.  Sort of bad, and e'll visit 'edwig up in tha Owlery.  Bad will be by tha lake- 'e talks wid the Merfolk sometimes an just watches tha squid tha rest.  An' if it was real bad, then e'll get 'is broomstick and 'ead on out to tha Pitch ta fly fer a bit."

The blonde Slytherin managed to choke out a rough thank you before he hurried outside.  Wrinkling his nose, he briefly considered the indignity of having to thank Hagrid of all people before turning his attention back to the matter at hand.  

How upset had Harry been?

Upset enough to leave, but not upset enough to hex him.  Although, that might have had something to do with the presence of teachers.  For all his purported guts and rule-creaking, the Gryffindor was curiously prudish about doing anything wrong around adults.

He'd go by the lake first, start in the middle as it were, then check the pitch before heading to the Owlery.  He didn't want to climb all those stairways if he didn't have to.

Trudging over the grounds, he considered how he could possibly extract his big foot from his even bigger mouth this time.  He didn't want to say he was sorry because he wasn't really.  Well, not about Granger.  It was hardly his fault she'd had the misfortune to be born to Muggles.  Or that she was an annoying  know-it-all puss that managed to annoy him more than anyone else he knew besides the Weasel.  But he was a little sorry that it had upset Harry and he was a bit more sorry that it had put their truce in jeopardy.

So.

He mulled over the idea of just saying he was sorry and not specifying what he was sorry for.  The best lies always had a little truth in them after all.  Nodding decisively, he pulled up short at the raven haired presence sitting against a tree.  He couldn't see Harry's face because the other boy was looking out over the lake, but from the slumped lines of his shoulder's, Draco figured his anger must have run out of steam.  Or at least, he hoped that was the case.  He really didn't want to get into a duel over Granger's dirty blood.

For a moment, he just stood there, close enough to watch Harry's black robes rise and fall with each breath.  A frown had settled on his face as he tried to think of what to say.  He wasn't used to being so unsure of himself and he didn't like it at all.

"It's not your fault, Draco.  It's mine."  Startled out of his thoughts, Draco just floundered at the Gryffindors words.  Before he could think of a response, Harry was continuing.  "I forgot, you see.  I was having so much fun with the pair of you I let myself forget who and what you are.  I made a mistake."

"It was just a slip of the tongue, Harry.  I didn't mean it."

His companion snorted, the inelegant sound telling Draco that his lie hadn't been bought.  "Try that line on someone who hasn't listened to you hurl that particular insult about for the last four years.  You're all Pureblood Pride inside and out."

"You say that like it's a bad thing to have pride in what you are."

Harry shook his head.  "Despite what some people say, there's nothing wrong with a little pride.  I've my own share of it.  Pride in being a Gryffindor, pride in my Quidditch team.  pride in my parents- even if I didn't know them very long."

Draco sighed and sat down.  He nudged the other boy over a bit so he could lean against the tree and stare out at the lake, too.  "Then I don't know why you're so upset.  It's not like I was calling you one."

"There's nothing wrong with pride until you use it to hurt other people, Draco.  And when you call Hermione or any of the other Muggle-borns Mudbloods, you're hurting them.  More than that, you're using it as a reason to treat them poorly for no other reason than an accident of their birth.  I may take pride in my parents, but you don't see me using it as an excuse to look down on all Purebloods."  Harry ignored his look of disbelief.  "Secondly, when you call someone a Mudblood- even someone who's not my friend, you are insulting me.  You know my Mum was Muggle-born."

"Harry-"

But now Potter was gaining that steam back and wasn't about to let him interrupt.  "And you're a bloody hypocrite to boot, with all your babble about manners.  It doesn't' stop you from throwing around the foulest words in the Wizarding language, now does it?"  The boy was clinching one fist against his forehead, between his eyes while the other was wrapped tightly around one up drawn knee.  "And what kind of an idiot am I to actually believe you were any different this year from any other year.  You were born an insufferable prat and you'll be one for the rest of your life."

An unnatural wind was starting to blow around them and Draco could practically see the magical aura glowing around his companion.  

"Harry!"  Startled emerald eyes flew to meet his own and the smaller boy took a few deep breaths to compose himself.  

"Sorry."  Harry dropped his eyes to stare at the lake again.

In a softer voice, Draco said,  "I am sorry, Harry.  I didn't mean to upset you.  Believe that, if you don't believe anything else."

The Boy-Who-Lived seemed to slump even further than he had been before.  "That doesn't make it any better, you know."  At the questioning glance thrown his way, he elaborated.  "That just means that the ideal is so ingrained that you don't even think about it anymore, you just accept it as what is and go on."

Brushing back a few platinum strands that had fallen in his face during the earlier windy display of power, Draco thought about that.  Was that what he was doing?  He supposed that to a fine upstanding Gryffindor, it would seem so.  And Harry had made at least one valid point, even his father didn't use the term Mudblood when in polite (read, non-Deatheater) company.  It was rather hypocritical of him to chide those around him for their manners when he wasn't watching his own.

'You're a Malfoy, Draco.  When in public, you should always behave appropriately.  Lead by example.  Besides, it's a simple enough matter to make others understand how very much more superior you are to them with your tone.  You don't have to stoop to a commoners level just to get that point across.'

His father's words, often spoken, came back to him suddenly.  He'd been lectured more than once about the inappropriateness of using such terms.

"I can't promise that it won't slip out again, Harry.  It's like Weasel-y and how he's always 'bloody this' and 'bloody that'.  It's a habit and habits- good or bad- are hard to break."

Harry turned to face him with a sudden movement that nearly toppled him over.  "Where are we going with this Malfoy?  What's going to happen when everyone else comes back from the holidays?  Will we go back to hexing each other in the halls or will we try and be friends?"

"Harry-"

Under the glasses, green eyes darkened with something akin to hysteria and Draco could tell that Harry was becoming agitated again.  "What is it, Draco?!  What do you want from me?!"

An image of a naked Harry Potter writhing under him, groaning his name caused the Slytherin to shift uncomfortably.  Could he tell Harry what he wanted?  What he couldn't help but hope was waiting on the other side of this new friendship?  

Or was it too soon?  

Judging from the mounting upset on Harry's face and the wind that was accompanying it, Draco wasn't sure he had much choice.  Besides, he should begin as he meant to go on, right?  Right.

It still took a second for him to reach out and place his hands on the soft tanned cheeks of his sometimes-rival.  He hadn't been passed over for Gryffindor for nothing, after all.   Bravery certainly wasn't his strongest suit.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise.  "D-Draco?"  He looked uncertain, but not disgusted.

That gave Draco the boost of confidence he needed and he leaned forward to capture slightly chapped lips with his own.  He made a mental note to suggest a spell that Harry could use to keep that particular problem at bay, then let himself get swept away in the first kiss in his life that really mattered.  

The Gryffindor had frozen in shock at his touch and when Draco dropped one arm down to circle his waist and pull him closer, he tensed even more.   A long moment passed without any other response from the boy in his arms- honestly, it was a bit like kissing a dead fish. He'd just decided that he'd been wrong, it was too soon, and letting go when Harry relaxed and leaned into him, refusing to let him end the kiss.

On the surface, Harry tasted like the ham and cheese omelet he'd been having at breakfast.  

Draco moved to deepen the kiss and for a second was afraid he'd gone too far when the body in his arms stiffened up again, and in entirely the wrong manner.

Gradually, the skittish boy had relaxed again and allowed it.

How long they sat there, learning the scents and tastes and feel of each other, Draco wasn't sure.  Finally though, oxygen became an overriding concern and he didn't protest when Harry pulled away, looking as dazed as he felt.

He was moving in for another kiss when a calloused palm came up to cover his mouth.  "No, Draco."  He figured the hurt that flashed through him at that moment must have been visible on his face because the other seeker smiled and gently caressed his cheek.  "Not, never.  Just... not now."  Blushing as he as uttered the softly spoken words, Harry turned to stare out over the lake again.  "As nice as it was, it doesn't solve the problem.  We don't even have what any sane person would consider a stable friendship.  Don't you think we should work on that first?"

The first thing that crossed his mind, but luckily stopped before it got to his lips, was 'friendship is highly overrated'.  It was well documented, the extremeness that Harry Potter would go through for his friends and what they in turn frequently went through for him.  No, making jests about friendship was not going to get him very far with the savior of the Wizarding World.

"Okay, Harry.  Friendship first.  And... maybe more later?"  His father would have been completely disgusted with the almost boyish hope that filled that last bit.  Malfoy's take what they want, Draco.  They don't grovel or compromise.

Oh sod off, he told his father's voice.  Taking might have worked in the short term-  if he could stun Harry enough to keep him from using magic- but it would only keep him from his longer term goals.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."  Harry's smooth baritone pulled him out of his thoughts and he focused on the issue once more. 

"What do you want, Harry?"  Shards of emerald jerked away from their study of the lake to lock an incredulous gaze on him.  Did no one ever ask him what he wanted?

Apparently not.  Potter had to think about that one.  "I.. I don't know exactly.  I've enjoyed the hols.  I'd like for our truce to extend past them, if possible."

"How far?"

Harry smiled shyly at him.  "I haven't got loads of friends, not really.  Not so many that I'd give any up willingly."

Nodding, Draco turned to stare out at the lake himself.  Tentacles from the giant squid rippled the surface ever now and then and he found himself smiling.  He could see what Harry liked about this spot.  It was peaceful.  "I can't promise that it won't happen again, Harry.  I can't even promise that I'll be able to get along with your friends.  None of us particularly care for one another, you know."

His companion's face was a study of misery before brightening infinitesimally.  "Just.. Try to be civil.  And if that doesn't work, ignore each other.  I'm not asking you all to be best chums.  I'm just asking that no one try to force a choice on me."  His features hardened slightly and Draco remembered his own belief that Harry seemed to fit in the Slytherin dorms.  "I'll ignore the lot of you, if any of you try that."

"How about this, if Weasely and Granger don't try to hex me, I won't hex them.  Agreed?"  

There was only a faint hesitation before Harry nodded.  "And do you think you at least try to stop using that awful term?  I understand that it'll be hard to break, and I don't care what you think in your own head or say away from me and my other friends.  Acceptable?"

The pureblood's hesitation was noticeably longer, but finely, he too nodded.  

"And what of your father and Voldemorte?  I can't imagine either of them will be pleased to hear that we're friends.  Unless you join up and they ask you to bring me to them, that is."

Draco shrugged carelessly.  "I won't be joining the Deatheaters, if that's what you're getting at.  Father gave me the choice the summer after fourth year.  I declined."

"He won't try to force you?"

Genuine laughter filled the grounds as Draco fell over.    Great peals of laughter were torn from his body and it took a long minute before he was able to bring back any semblance of self-control.  "H-Harry.  He's my father, not a monster."  Still chortling to himself, he wiped the tears of mirth from his cheeks.  "He loves me too much to force me into anything, no matter what kind of rumors have found their way up to you gossipy little Gryffindors.  He asked, I declined.  That was that."

 He continued to snicker occasionally at the incredulous look he was faced with.  Really, did everyone think aristocratic automatically meant abusive?

"As I recall, at the end of fourth year, you were all but waving little 'Go Voldemorte' banners."  There was enough bitterness in Harry's voice that it calmed him down immediately.

"I was a child, Harry.  The only thing I knew about Vo-Vol.. err.  You-Know-Who, was a bunch of meaningless prattle.  I was only repeating what I'd heard from my father."  Draco's voice grew a great deal more serious though he was honestly a bit exasperated with his companion's inability to understand.  "I saw him, that summer.  He came to our house."  He could see it in his mind, almost as if it had happened yesterday instead of almost two years ago.  "Father sent me to my room, but I didn't obey him.  I wanted to meet our great leader."  His chuckle was self-deprecating rather than amused.  "I'm not sure what I expected really.  Tea in the library, perhaps, with someone handsome and charismatic or wizened and regal."

"He used to be like that."  The Gryffindors voice quivered, as if he was suppressing something unpleasant.  "Actually, he used to look a great deal like me."

In an attempt to lighten the dark mood, Draco cracked a joke.  "Humble, aren't you?"

He got a dimmed, but sincere smile.  "Well, you certainly seem to think I'm handsome and charismatic."

Cursing his fair skin as he felt heat rise up in his cheeks, the blonde continued.  "Anyways, whatever I was expecting, what I saw was the complete opposite.  My father was on his knees in front of that hideous creature, begging for forgiveness.  And when it was granted, after a curse or two, he kissed the hem of V- You-Know-Who's robes.  He's a Malfoy for Salazar's sake!  Malfoy's don't beg."

"And so, you decided that service to someone who was going to demean you wasn't worth your time?"  Harry's voice carried vast amounts of amusement.

"Something like that.  I did promise my father that I'd just try to stay out of the whole bloody war.  Neutral like.  He seemed almost relieved."

There was a nod in response.  "I doubt any father truly wants their child to end up in the middle of a war."

"Will you go back to hating me if I don't choose sides, and just watch from the sidelines?"  This time, the shaggy head shook.  "Why?  I would have thought it would make you furious."

Even through the glasses and from and the awkward angle, he could tell that Harry's expression had grown depressed again.  " I'd rather you sat it out actually.  Though I don't think anyone will be able to in the end.  If I could, I'd keep everyone on the sidelines and make the only person in danger me."  

Slim hands were once again clinched into fists and were rubbing tired at the shadowed eyes hidden behind the thick glasses.  

"Headache?"

"Yeah.  Had it since last night."

"Here, take off your outer robe and roll it up."   He grinned at the suspicious look that was cast his way.  "Don't worry, Harry.  I won't molest you anymore today.  I'm just trying to ease your headache a bit."  A bit dubious, Potter did what he was told, none the less.  Taking the robes from the nervous hands and placing it in his lap, he shifted and tugged until he had a dark head resting on the makeshift pillow in his lap.  "Now, just close your eyes and relax."

This time the tension was released almost instantly.  Brushing the hair back off Harry's forehead, he leaned down and placed a quick peck on it, careful to avoid the infamous scar.  Then, before there could be any retaliation, he moved his fingers down to the temples and began to gently massage them.

Harry sighed and did some shifting of his own until he'd found a more comfortable position.

The pair let themselves go, enjoying the moment.  Caught up in the tranquility, Draco began humming some tune he vaguely remembered his mother singing to him when he'd been young.  It seemed to further calm, the smaller boy and he watched as Harry slipped off to dreamland, an almost content smile on his face.

Leaning his head back against the tree trunk, he closed his own eyes and just sat there.  He knew the air around them was cold- though not as cold as it could have been due to the warming spell that had been placed on the lake itself this year at the request of the merfolk- but he couldn't feel it.

He was as content as he could remember being and he was only too glad to enjoy it for as long as he could.

~*~*~*~

Despite the apologies made and accepted, Harry was noticeably more withdrawn from his new Slytherin friends and as New Year's Eve dawned brightly before them, Draco despaired.

It was shaping up to be a right miserable day for all of them.  The night before, Snape had informed them that they would all spend the next day harvesting the basilisk corpse.  The Gryffindor had spent the night tense and quiet, ignoring any overtures Greg and Draco had made.  He'd also been up and out of the Slytherin dorms at the crack of dawn, well before the other two boys had awakened.

"He's not going to stay friends with us after hols, is he, Draco?"  The blonde paused in his dressing and turned to look at where his big friend was gazing mournfully at something on one of the dresser's.  He didn't have to look to know what it was.

That was where he'd sat his copy of the picture of the two of them.  It didn't have it's own frame yet, so he'd stuck it over another- a wizarding photo of his father, something that the picturefather hadn't been at all happy with.

"I don't know, Greg." 

Greg just nodded miserably and finished up his own dressing.  Draco was glad that he didn't seem to blame him for what had happened.  He wondered briefly why Harry couldn't be as accepting, but grimaced to himself.

Harry Potter had always, and would always, put his friends before almost everything else.  Only insulting his parents could bring his wrath any more quickly.  And if it was something he perceived as an insult to both...

Heaven help them all.

In that case, Draco knew he should be pleased that he'd gotten off as lightly as he had.  There'd been no hexing, no fighting, and the Gryffindor hadn't completely avoided them.

But the tentative trust that had grown between them was gone and even the assurances that he didn't plan on joining Voldemorte hadn't helped much.

Worrying his lip, Draco smoothed back his hair.  It just wasn't fair.  He sighed.

"Draco?"

"We've still got a week.  Who knows?  Maybe something will change between now and then."  Checking his appearance one last time, earning a giggle from the magical mirror as it complimented him, he straightened his shoulders.  "Until then, let's go find the twit."

~*~*~

They found their erstwhile holiday companion in the Great Hall pushing food around on his plate looking vaguely sick.

It only took a moment for Dumbledore's comment about the boy being sick.  Draco slid onto the bench next to him and leaned over to try and peer past the glasses into the emerald eyes.  "Are you all right, Harry?"

The only response was a shrug as Potter continued to move the scrambled eggs around on his plate.  Glancing down, the blonde was surprised to realize that the eggs were actually forming the vague shape of a snake.  He looked back up but the glazed look in Harry's eyes told him that it wasn't being done consciously.  

Did that mean that the only thing that was really bothering him was this basilisk thing?

Draco could only hope.  And feel oddly worried about the coming expedition, something he'd have looked forward to on any other day.  His passion for potions was such that even something considered a chore by most, like the painstaking harvesting of ingredients, was an enjoyment for him.

"Draco?"

His gaze jerked up to meet Greg's worried one.  

What should we do?  his friend's eyes seemed to ask.  He could only shrug.  It wasn't often that he found himself completely out of his element, but he wasn't used to dealing with someone like Harry.  Especially since he didn't have a clue what exactly was wrong.  

"Err.. Harry?"

"Hmm?"   

Greg pushed something across the table and into the Gryffindors line of vision.  "I finished another one for you."

Peering over Harry's shoulder, he smiled at the sketch Greg had done of Christmas morning.  He'd seen it already, but he enjoyed looking at the other boy's work.  It still amazed him that someone as slow in school work as Gregory Goyle could possess such a brilliant talent.  He'd perfectly captured the embarrassed Harry hiding in the big dog's fur that morning.  You could almost feel the silky black fur that was such a close match to the tousled mane of human hair.

"Thank you, Greg."  Draco looked back up at the attractive face so close to his own.  There was a hint of a smile there and sincere gratitude, but neither went far in dispelling the shadows that had been gathering over the last several days.

Before he could open his mouth to say anything though, an owl that had just flown in the windows came crashing into the table in front of them.

"Good morning, Errol."  The smooth baritone was both amused and concerned as Harry reached over to help the bird stand again.  He pushed his eggs over in front of it then untied the three letters it carried, one of which was a bright scarlet red.

The Slytherins watched as the smaller boy spread them out in front of him.   The Howler had the words 'Open Me First' scrawled across the front of it.  The other two envelopes said 'Me Second' and 'Open This One Last'.  The last one's penmanship was far above the first two.

Harry drew in a shaking breath before gathering the letters up and pushing away from the table.  

"Harry?"  

For the life of him, Draco couldn't imagine who would have sent the Boy Who Lived a Howler for Christmas.  The furor over Diggory had died out the year before and with Rita Skeeter gone and someone more honest reporting for the Wizard Weekly, very few stories showed up that were anti-Potter.  He was ashamed to admit that a lot of that had to do with the fact that he'd turned his own attention towards things other than Harry-torture.  The young pureblood still couldn't believe he'd stooped so low.  Of course, he'd never dreamed he'd ever regret it someday.  His father had always cautioned him to consider the long-term consequences of his actions.  For once, Draco wished he'd listened to the man.

Green eyes, unnerving in their intensity, cast a considering look over first Goyle, then Draco himself.  With a sigh, the other Seeker shrugged.  "You might as well come along.  I suspect these are about you anyways."

Bewildered, the blonde arched a questioning brow at Greg, but his fellow Slytherin just shrugged.  Apparently he didn't know anything either.

Quietly, the pair followed Harry out of the Great Hall and outside to the Lake.

Once there, slender fingers shakily pulled off the Howler's seal and tossed it to towards the ground away from them.  It rose up and opened itself.

"Harrison James Potter!  Have you gone Stark Raving NUTTERS?!  Make FRIENDS With MALFOY?!  I'm right aren't I?  You have gone nutters?  Or Else they've POISONED you!  I can't believe you'd seriously write me a letter like that!  This is MALFOY!!!  You DO Remember Right?  MALFOY?  THE AMAZING BOUNCING FERRET MALFOY?!?! THE SAME MALFOY THAT CALLS ME WEASEL, YOU POTTY, AND 'MIONE MUDBLOOD?!?!?!  The SAME Malfoy That Has Made Hogwart's a Living HELL for us for Almost SIX YEARS NOW!?!?!  Is ANY of This Coming Back to You Now?!?!  As Soon as I Get Back, You're Going Straight To Dumbledore.  And if He Says You're Not Poisoned or Under a SPELL, Then I'm Going To SLAP YOU SILLY!"

The roaring voice sputtered out as the thing blew them a raspberry and shredded itself up.

"Well,"  The Gryffindors voice was as shaky as his hands had been.  "He took that rather well, don't you think?"

"Harry?"  Draco hated the way his voice sounded, small and timid, but he couldn't seem to help it.  When had Harry sent an owl to Weasely?  And why, if he wasn't planning to continue being their friend after hols as the withdraw of the last few days had suggested?

Potter didn't look at them as he fiddled with the second letter.  "I told you before that I haven't got so many friends that I'd give any up willingly.  And it didn't seem right to just spring it on them when they got back."  He shrugged, an air of diffidence in the action.  "I thought I'd give them time to get used to the idea."

It was Greg that broke the stunned silence that both Slytherins had slipped into.  Draco wasn't sure he could speak past the relief.  Harry wasn't giving up on the idea of being their friend.  They still had a chance.  He still had a chance.  "Thank you, Harry."  Greg picked the smaller boy up in a gentle hug that belied his much larger size.  The raven-haired wizard wasn't the only one with few real friends.  The Slytherin Beater could only count Draco's inner circle- Pansy, Vince, Blaise, and Draco himself- as real friends.  

Harry looked surprised for a moment before he smiled and returned the hug.  Again, Draco could see that he was uncomfortable about the action, but he couldn't imagine why.  The burly boy put him down just as gently as he'd picked him up.

Smiling, Draco just watched before adding his two sickles.  "That's not a bad idea.  We should probably do that to, just so's none of our friends do anything stupid on the train."

The second letter was from Ron as well.  Thankfully, it was worded much less forcefully.  The Weasel had apparently written it after he'd calmed down.

"Harry, I can't imagine why you've decided being friends with Malfoy of all people is a good idea.  'Mione and I talked it over though and we decided that if you're willing to forgive and forget, then we can at least try to be civil.  But only if he is.  He calls her that foul name again and I won't be held accountable for my actions.  I'm glad you liked the twins new gags, I'll be bringing some more stuff back to school after the hols.  They want us to 'test' them.  I was going to use Malfoy and the other Slytherins for guenie pigs, but I guess that's out now, eh?  Oh well, we'll find someone.  Snape, maybe?  Did you have a nice visit with Professor Lupin and Snuffles?  "Mione said something that made a lot of sense (but don't tell her I said this).  After what happened last year and at the beginning of this year, maybe it's a good thing that you had Malfoy and Goyle there to distract you.  You know we worried about you.  Hey, I don't have to call them Draco and  err.. whatever Goyle's first name is, do I?  Ron"

When Harry's smooth baritone stopped, Draco looked up and smirked at him.  "Erratic thought processes."

"That's Ron for you."

"What happened last year?"  He didn't bother hiding his concern as he wondered if this and the 'illness' Dumbledore had spoken of were related.

Another considering look was cast his way- it really was annoying how often Harry looked at them like that- before slim shoulders shrugged.  "I'd rather not talk about it."  He quickly smoothed out the last letter and his entire stance practically screamed out that he'd said all he was going to say on the matter.  Instead, he read.  "Harry.  I'm sorry about the Howler, but even after he'd calmed down, Ron insisted.  You know how he is sometimes.  I don't understand why you'd like to befriend Malfoy either, but I trust you.  If you say it's okay, then I'll accept that for now.  I will expect an explanation soon though.  This is just  short a reprieve.  Besides, I didn't like leaving you alone to brood.  If nothing else, I'm sure Malfoy hasn't allowed you to do that, whether the pair of you were fighting or not."  Draco was delighted at seeing a faint blush stain the Gryffindors cheeks.  They certainly hadn't spent the last two weeks fighting, not really anyways.  "There's an old saying 'Keep you're friends close and you're enemies closer'.   If he's going to be a real friend, then that's all well and good. We can certainly always use more of those.  If not, then at least you'll be able to keep track of him for the most part.  I'm going to cut this short now, Ron's getting impatient to send them all off.  Have fun and stay safe, Your Friend, Hermione Granger.  P.S. Since you're friends now, you might want to ask Malfoy to tutor you with your potions work.  Right now, I don't see how you'll possibly be able to pass without help.  And thanks for the book!"

"Malfoy!  Goyle!  'Arry!"  The trio turned to see Hagrid calling them from as he walked from the castle.  Harry stuffed his letters under his robes somewhere and they hurried to meet the half-giant.  His greeting consisted of nearly knocking the raven-haired boy over as he patted him on the shoulder.  "Snape's a lookin' fer ya.  Said fer yu'all to meet 'im in front a Dumbledore's gargoyle an not dawdle er else ya'd all 'ave detention fer the rest of tha 'ols."

"Thanks, Hagrid.  See you later, okay?"

"Sure, 'Arry, sure."

*~*~*

"Potter, are you sure your memory isn't faulty?  This is a girl's lavatory."  The sneer in Snape's voice was matched by the one on his face.  Slytherin-Gryffindor truce notwithstanding, the Potion's Professor still seemed to consider Harry a particularly dumb sort of animal.

"Yes, Professor, I am aware of that."  Exhaustion and edginess were both heavily visible in the boy's expression as he snapped back at the teacher.

Amusing as the display was, Draco and Greg kept quiet and watched as they followed Potter into the unused restroom.  The blonde figured it was the edginess that was causing the normally polite wizard to engage Snape verbally as he usually avoided such confrontations.  Before the hook nosed man could retort, or worse deduct points and assign detention, the ghost of a young girl came flying down from the ceiling with a gleeful look.

"Harry!  You've come to visit!  Why did you bring them?"

The Gryffindor pushed his slipping glasses further up on his nose and smiled at the ghost.  "Sorry Myrtle, this isn't a visit really."  He was already moving over towards the circle of sinks that stood just past the row of toilets.

"Going down again then?"  She seemed disappointed and happy all at the same time.  

"Girls,"  Draco muttered to himself.  Even when they were dead they were weird.  He was so glad that he was gay.

"Yes.  We're going to chop it up."  That was said in the most cheerful voice that Harry had used since the whole Mudblood argument.  "You want to come with?"

The ghost grinned at him.  "That's all right.  But don't forget, my offer is always open."

With a grin and a wink, Harry turned his attention back to the sinks.

"Potter-"  There was a definite warning in the way the man growled the name.

"Ssssalith Sssalah.."  

The hissing noises startled the trio of Slytherins.  None of them had heard that since the now infamous dueling club incident.  Draco had almost forgotten what it sounded like to here Harry speaking Parsletongue.  With a grin, he conceded that he probably hadn't found it quite as sexy four years earlier.

A sudden grinding noise focused his attention back on the sinks and he gaped as they began a complicated shifting and moving.  When everything had settled back down, the sinks had pulled apart and opened to expose a tunnel.  Peering over Harry's shoulder, he tried to look down, but it was so dark, he couldn't see more than a foot down.  "How deep is it?"

Harry shrugged.  "Deep enough.  That's why we had to bring the ladder." 

With the reminder, Greg perked up at having something to do.  He'd carried the largest portion of the supplies they needed including the rope ladder that Harry had transfigured from a small tree and insisted they bring. 

"Be careful, as I recall, the bottom is littered with the bones of small animals.. or birds.  I never really took that close of a look."  And with that warning, the brave stupid Gryffindor clenched his eyes shut and stepped off into the darkness.

"Harry!" "Potter!"  The Slytherins made a chorus of the boy's name as he disappeared from view.

"It's all right!  It's curved like a slide, so you can either slide down or use the ladder.  I suggest levitating down anything that might break, though."

The pair of remaining students grinned at one another as Snape took a moment to mutter something very uncomplimentary about the 'idiocy of Gryffindors!' before carefully levitating down the harvesting equipment.

At the Professor's nod, Goyle dropped the ladder down into the hole.  With a great deal more dignity than their companion had displayed, the trio followed Potter down into the abyss.

Harry had set the equipment down and was looking around the cave-like area with wand light.  Draco joined him as they waited for the others.  Bones crunched underfoot and he grimaced as he imagined what this trip was going to end up doing to his rather expensive boots.  

"Ew.."  Draco held up one hand to cover his eyes against the wand light that was suddenly in his face as his other hand frantically swiped at his hair trying to get the cobwebs out of it.  "I don't know what's worse, being blinded or having this stuff in my hair."

There was a disembodied chuckle from the other side of the light before Harry moved it away again and the blonde could see him clearly.  "You are such a priss." 

"Yes, well, we've established that already, have we not?"

The Gryffindor continued to chuckle softly but moved to help him get the dreadful sticky things out of his precious locks.  "There, all better."

"If you two are quite done?"

Heat rose in his face as Draco turned back to see that the other two had finally gotten down.  Greg had already picked their things back up and Snape was watching them with one brow arched and amusement on his face.

"Of course, Professor, it's this way."  Harry led them off down the cave.

There was only the sound of silence for a few minutes as they picked their way over the rock-strewn path before Harry spoke up again.  "Professor, I've been meaning to ask....  It's been several years since this particular basilisk died.  Are you sure they'll be anything left that's worth collecting?"

"Potter, you don't read much do you?"

The light thrown off by there wands allowed Draco to see the half-smile that the boy tossed over his shoulder.  "Not if I can help it, sir."

"Basilisks are among the rarest and deadliest of all magical creatures.  You can't just waltz up and kill one.  They also live absurdly long lives.  A corpse doesn't even begin to decompose for decades, thankfully or else we'd never be able to use basilisk ingredients.  A dead one is found every few hundred years.  Those are only a few of the reasons why their so very expensive.  Another are the sheer number of uses a talented potions maker can get out of them."

Ahead of them, Harry had begun to rub his right arm at the beginning of lecture and was shuddering by the end of it, but all he said was, "oh" and then it was quiet again.

It wasn't long before they came upon a spot where the tunnel was almost completely blocked by a rockslide.  Only one corner was still open enough for them to get through.  "Be careful through here.  It's not the stablest of areas."

"Really, Harry?  We hadn't guessed."  They were all very cautious going across, but Harry at least, seemed to know what he was doing.  "Was this here before or is it recent?"  

Already on the other side, Harry reached through to help him over a particularly wobbly set of rocks and shrugged.  "It happened the last time I was down here."

That brought Draco's head up quick, but Harry was already moving forwards to stand in front of a large round door covered with stone snakes.  He waited until the Slytherins had joined him then closed his eyes and hissed at it.  "Ssssalith Sssalah."

"What does that mean, Harry?"  Greg asked as they all watched another snake slide around the door, apparently unlocking it.  

The question caused Harry's lip to quirk in a brief, strained grin.  "Open Sesame."  Then he was moving forward as the door swung open.  "You'll have to levitate the stuff again, we have to crawl down another latter."

In no time at all, all four were at the bottom looking into the strangest chamber Draco had ever seen.  He and Greg were both looking around in awe, taking in the giant serpent heads and at the end, the bust of a wizard that they both recognized rising above the corpse of a giant snake.  His painting was hung up inside their common room.  Salazar Slytherin and the basilisk they'd come to harvest.  Snape, on the other hand, was looking at an unimpressed Potter.

"Where exactly are we Potter, and when, exactly did you find it?"

The suspicious tone of the question caught the attention of both the other boys and they turned to Harry for the answer.

There was a curiously hard look in the Gryffindors expression as he shrugged before holding both hands out like some sort of presenter.  "Welcome to the Chamber of Secrets, gentlemen."

~*~*~

It was halfway through their work that it happened.  Later, Draco would curse himself for not realizing sooner- for not sensing the danger in time to prevent what happened, no matter that Madam Pomfrey and both Professors Snape and Dumbledore had assured him that he couldn't have known.

The lone Gryffindor had been edgy and increasingly jumpy as the hours crept by.  He refused to come near the corpse and instead seemed to pour his undivided attention into labeling everything that the others harvested.  In one hand, he clutched his wand almost convulsively as if he was afraid someone was going to try to steal it, his other rubbed the inside of his right elbow joint except when he was handling vials.  And he never, not even once, turned his back on the corpse.

Snape had moved to the other side with Greg and the pair were trying to move the tail end back up out of the water and onto the cement walkway.

They pushed and pulled and finally, the massive tail was where they could get to it.  It flopped up onto the stones, splashing water everywhere.

And Harry Potter went absolutely nutters.

He jerked backwards, falling on his arse and scooted away.  His wand was leveled at the snake and before anyone had a chance to react, he was shouting curses at it.

"Bloody Hell," was all Snape had a chance to ground out before he had to jump and roll off to one side to avoid a vicious curse that Draco didn't think Harry was supposed to know.

The magical aura around the smaller boy was swelling at an alarming rate and Draco rushed towards him, hoping to calm him down.  Twin shards of vivid emerald jerked towards him and the blonde stopped suddenly, dumbfounded.  There was no recognition in Harry's eyes at all.  The wand aimed towards him and if Greg hadn't knocked him out of the way, Draco knew he'd have been in a world of hurt.  Even if he didn't recognize the curse itself, the color was that brilliant red of a pain curse.

The pair lay in a tangle, unable to get to their wands or move out of the way as Harry began another curse, this one far worse than the last.  Luckily, Snape's voice rang out before he could finish.

"Expelliarmus!"  

Frightened and angry, the Gryffindor turned towards the Professor and an artificial wind kicked up through the chamber.  "NO, not again!" he yelled.  "I won't let you, Tom!  I won't!"  Then the invisible force of the wind was throwing Snape back into the giant snake's corpse.

Still, it gave the two students time to take somewhat dubious cover behind the other end of the basilisk.  "Professor, what the bloody hell is going on?  He didn't even recognize us."

"When we get out of here, I'm going to give that senile old man a piece of my mind," Snape ground out as he tucked Potter's wand into his pocket.  "What in Salazar's name was he thinking?  Sending us down here with the equivalent of a ticking time bomb?"

"Sir?"

On the other side of the cover, Harry could still be heard ranting and cursing and the water was splashing them in great waves caused by the magical winds he was producing.

"I rather suspect that the 'illness' the Headmaster mentioned was at least partially something called 'Post Traumatic Stress Disorder'.  Flashbacks are a symptom."  He jerked his thumb towards the sound Gryffindors voice.  

Cocking his head and listening, Draco could make out something about Ginny- Weasely probably- and Tom- whoever that was.  "What are we going to do, Professor Snape?"  He didn't want Harry to be hurt, but neither did he want to end up on the wrong end of a curse that wasn't even truly meant for him.  That would well and truly suck.

"One of you draw his attention over there,"  Snape pointed towards the tail end of the basilisk.  "I'll come around and knock him out from the other side."

"Sir, you're not going to-"

"No Mr. Malfoy, I'm not going to kill him or in any other way injure him.  If I was going to do that, it'd be much easier to make it look like an accident in potions class, don't you think?"

Draco blushed at his favorite teacher's sardonic tone of voice and moved into position to play decoy but stopped at the hand on his arm.  "Draco, I'll do it."  Greg's expression was serious.

"Greg-"

"No, really Draco.  I weigh more, I'm less likely to get blown away."  The attempt of humor fell short, but Draco appreciated the effort and smiled faintly.

"All right.  Be careful."

The big Slytherin lumbered out into the open.  "Hey Potter!"  At his yell, the winds on his side increased and Draco had to concede that he'd have probably lost his footing in moments.  

"Stupefy!"

Draco wrapped his arms around his knees and fought the urge to cover his ears.  

"Bloody hell!  Stupefy!"  

He could hear a startled yelp come from Harry and then the sound of a body crashing to the floor and skidding a ways.  He was up and around the snake before the winds had died all the way down.  

Snape was kneeling beside the fallen student, panting, as he felt for injuries with surprisingly gentle hands.  "I think he'll be all right.  His head hit the walkway, but there's no blood and I don't think he has a concussion.  Only Madam Pomfrey will be able to know for sure though."  The Professor looked back and forth between the basilisk and Potter for a few seconds before stripping his outer cloak off and draping it over the boy.  Then he turned his attention to Draco and Greg.  "Look, we need to finish this and I seriously doubt that Potter will be up for a another expedition down here anytime soon.  We do this as quickly as possible, then we'll take Potter up to the infirmary."

"But sir-" Draco was too stunned to say anything, but Greg wasn't.  Not that Snape let him get his entire protest out.

"Mr. Goyle, in case you hadn't noticed, Potter is the only one who can get in here, unless one of you has suddenly developed Parsletongue without telling me?"  They both shook their heads no.  "The rest of this corpse will have to be harvested.  Would you rather we did it now while he's unconscious, or wait and force him back down here on another day?"

The man had a point, however loathe Draco was to admit.  With one last glance at Harry, he moved to go back to what he'd been doing before the entire episode had started.  The sooner they were done, the sooner they could get Harry to the nurse.

~*~*~

Later that evening, Draco had planted himself in the chair beside Harry's bed and refused to move.  Madam Pomfrey had given up trying to make him, and had simply asked that he notify her as soon as the patient woke.  Greg had stayed as well, but he was already asleep in a bed further down.

They'd already undone the stunning curse.  Pomfrey assured him that Harry was sleeping naturally now and that it was exactly what he needed.

Snape and Dumbledore had been there earlier, the Headmaster with a sad look on his face as he watched the sleeping boy.  He'd apologized to all of them for not fully informing them.  Professor Snape had not been mollified, but he'd left in a huff, stopping only long enough to brusquely request that  Draco 'keep him informed'.  

Idly, he wondered if Snape felt guilty for the amount of force he'd had to use to knock Harry out.  While it was true that the Gryffindor didn't have a concussion, he was going to have a hell of a headache when he woke up.

His eyes traveled down the length of Harry's body.  He'd been here the whole time and had seen the scars here and there when they'd undressed him.  

Harry Potter had lived a rough life.

Sighing, his gaze traveled back upwards and came to rest on fuzzy emerald eyes.  Funny how much more vulnerable Harry looked when you could actually see the clear irises that were usually trapped behind the- wait a minute...

"You're awake!"  Draco exclaimed as he leaned over and gave the other boy a half hug of sorts.  "We were worried."

Harry gave a lopsided smile and tried to push himself into a sitting position.  The blonde helped him up and fluffed the pillows behind his back before sitting back down in the chair he'd claimed.  

"What happened?"  One slender hand was running through the disheveled mop of raven hair while the other reached for the glasses that Draco handed over.  He tried to stifle his disappointment as the lovely green was hidden again. 

"Flashbacks.  Professor Snape had to hit you with a particularly forceful Stupefy to stop you and you fell back and hit your head.  Do you feel all right?"

"Well, that explains the headache anyways."  Harry pinched the bridge of his nose with a pained expression before his features smoothed back down.  "How long was I out?"

With a shrug, Draco looked around.  He knew that the infirmary had a clock somewhere, he just wasn't sure where it was.  Finally he spotted it on over the fireplace at the end of the room.  "Almost midnight now, so eight hours or so?  Madam Pomfrey didn't seem to think you'd be up before morning though."

"You should have gone to sleep, Draco."

The pureblood bit his lip nervously.  He wasn't really sure what to say.  "I wanted to be here when you woke up, Harry."

"Why?"  The other boy looked adorably confused.

He shrugged.  "Isn't that what friends do?"  Harry only looked half convinced but didn't argue.

Instead, the Gryffindor nodded.  "Thanks."

"Why didn't you tell us about the flashbacks, Harry?"  He'd tried really hard not to be hurt by that lack of confidence, but hadn't been very successful.   "Or about the Chamber of Secrets." 

"I don't talk about a lot of things, Draco.  Not just to you.  I never even told Dumbledore everything that happened down there."  Harry leaned back into the pillows and stared up at the ceiling.  "I'd rather just forget it happened at all.  A lot of my life is like that."

Draco wasn't sure how to respond to that.  He didn't understand it.  His own life had been easy.  The blonde would be the first to admit that he might be a little spoiled.  Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had always given him exactly what he wanted.  He'd had the best of everything and he knew his parents loved him, in their own aristocratic fashion.  The only real source of contention between his father and himself was his desire to be a Potion's Master rather than a politician.  

He certainly didn't have the nightmares that he knew Harry had.  The other boy was almost silent with them, but sharing close quarters over the holidays had allowed Draco and Greg to see them.  

"I'm sorry."

The Gryffindor looked over at him, confused.  "For what?"

Pulling his knees up into the chair so that he could hold his knees against his chest, he rested his chin on them and bit his lip softly.  

How to answer that question..

He was sorry that things had been so bad for Harry.

He was sorry Voldemorte was trying to kill the other teen.  That the madman had killed his parents.

He was sorry that he'd made Harry's life worse than it already had been over the years.

He was sorry for a lot of things and there was nothing he could do anything about any of it.

Shrugging, he found he couldn't verbalize any of that.  Not in a way that made sense.  "Anything.  Everything."

Still, Harry must have understood some of what he was thinking because the raven-haired boy was smiling again.  "That's a pretty broad range of things to be sorry for, Draco.  But thank you."

The pair sat there in comfortable silence for a moment before Harry spoke again.  "Is it midnight yet?"

Draco looked back over at the timepiece.  "Um... About five minutes, why?"

"Do wizards have any New Year's traditions?   Like, making New Year's Resolutions or anything?"

"Must be a muggle thing.  I've never heard of it."  

Harry chuckled.  "Why am I not surprised?  So what do you do to celebrate?"

He thought about it.  "We throw a lavish party."

The muggle raised boy rolled his eyes and muttered something about purebloods that Draco ignored.  "Muggles have two main New Year's customs.  The first being 'The Making of New Year's Resolutions'.  It has to be something that you wouldn't normally do- or haven't been doing, at least.  Like, exercise or stop smoking.  My main New Year's Resolution is to study more.  Like 'Mione said, I'm almost failing potions."

"I can help you with that," Draco interrupted.  "If you want, that is."

"Thanks.  I can certainly use the help.  So, what's your Resolution?"  

The Slytherin pondered for a second but couldn't come up with any thing off the cuff as it were.  "Do I have to decide before midnight?"

Harry looked uncertain.  "I dunno.  I always have, but I never really asked anyone else before."

"Then, as is my right as a pureblood, I will decide tomorrow."  

Emarld green widened incredulously before Harry doubled over in laughter.  "You.. oh my god.. you are too much sometimes," he gasped out.  

It was a little annoying and Draco didn't really see what was all that funny, but rather than get upset, he decided just to be glad that Harry was laughing.  

Still, he changed the subject away from whatever it was that amused the other boy so.  "What's the other one?"

Gaining some measure of control over himself, Harry threw him a questioning look.  "The other what?"

"The other muggle custom.  You said there were two."  Honestly, sometimes it felt like no one around him understood proper English.

For some reason, the Gryffindor blushed a brilliant shade of scarlet.  "Err.. Well.. How close is it to midnight?" he stuttered out instead of answering the question.

Arching one finely chiseled blonde brow, Draco leaned back to look at the clock again.  "Less than a minute."

"Count it down once it gets to ten seconds."

Malfoy's did not respond well to commands, but the youngest of the clan decided to take pity on his companion and not explain that right then and there.  Instead, he allowed himself to obey, just this once.  "Ten... Nine... Eight..."  There was a shuffling noise on the bed beside him, but he didn't turn his head.  "Seven... Six.... Five... Four..."  

Hands, soft despite their calluses, came to rest lightly on his face and Draco startled.  "Harry?"

"Shh.."  

The kiss was rather more chaste than he was used to, feeling much like he imagined butterfly wings would, but he found himself enthralled.  Rather than cheapen the moment, he wrapped his arms around the slim body and just held on.

For once, Harry didn't freeze up at the contact.  Instead, he sighed and lay his head on Draco's shoulder, face turned towards the neck.  "It's muggle tradition to welcome in the New Year with a kiss."

It took a moment for the blonde to swallow past the lump that had formed in his throat.  "Really?"

"Mmhmm.."  Harry murmured sleepily.  Draco felt the hum against his skin and shivered.  

"Well..  I guess Muggles might have a few good ideas after all."

He felt Harry's smile at that.  "Happy New Year, Draco."

"Happy New Year, Harry."

Soon, the Gryffindors breathing evened out and his body completely relaxed against Draco's.  Reluctant to let go, it was several more minutes before Draco, moving carefully so's not to wake the boy from his slumber, eased Harry back down into the infirmary bed.

He pulled the covers up and pushed the dark hair out of the way so that he had an unimpeded view of Harry's entire face.

Draco knew exactly what his New Year's Resolution was, no matter that he'd told Harry otherwise. 

Leaning over, he whispered softly against the sleeping boy's brow.  "I'll make it up to you, Harry.  Even if it doing so does mean playing nice with Mudbloods and Weasley's." 

He sealed his promise with a gentle kiss and climbed into the bed next to Harry's.

Tomorrow was the start of a new year and if he was going to keep his resolution, he was going to need his rest.