“Wake up, Malfoy,” An annoying whine broke Draco’s dreamless sleep.

“Wha-” Draco shot up straight in his bed as a finger prodded him in the shoulder.

“You’re so damn lazy,” The same voice criticized him. The sentence was punctuated by noises of someone trying to make the bed before Draco could even get out of it.

“Do I always have to listen to your voice first thing in the morning, Granger?” Draco groaned as he tried to get his legs out the tangle of bed sheets the girl hovering above him was trying to fold him into.

Granger just ignored him as she helped him up by shoving him off the bed.

“I just love your kind and gentle attitude,” Draco mumbled bitterly as he made way his way to the bathroom. Potter was much easier to deal with then his grovelling groupies. At least he had the decency to ignore him completely. The weasel mutt had the horrible habit of endlessly staring at him with the most stupid look on his face while Granger kept on trying to figure out how to dissect him and his actions. She had tried the ‘lets be friends’ thing; the ‘I’m going to kill you’ conversation; ‘Lets feed HIM to the sharks’ debacle and now the green light for the ‘I’m ignoring you’ plan had been given the go.

Draco sighed at their so called attempts at maturity and shrugged his cream coloured shoulders.

Draco had the habit of sleeping in the nude but Granger had soon cured him of that. The shrieking, his first night over, had been unbearable to say the least. Draco had woken up screaming rape while Granger had bawled over how she had been scarred for life. They had made the silent agreement that a pair of pajama bottoms would be an acceptable compromise.

Draco took a brief shower and came out to find that the Weasley women had laid out ironed clothes for him. Draco put them on silently and walked down to breakfast.

No matter what the weather was and how solemn the situation was outside, breakfast was always a sunny affair. The Weasley women kept on piling greasy lots of food on everyone’s plates adding a lot more calories on Draco’s palate than he cared to count. He wanted to be rude and moody at the irritatingly busy table but everyone’s jolly mood quashed his own grumbling one. Most of the people usually ignored him though Tonks, an unfortunate relative, seemed to want to chummy up with him.

Her ‘Wotcher, Draco,’ greeting made him want to throttle someone but its persistence made him reply with his own nondescript nod of the head. She always beamed at his response and that made Draco feel a little lighter inside.

That day she wasn’t there so nobody really acknowledged his arrival though the Weasley lady did keep on uttering on his malnutritioned status. He sniffed snobbily at her criticism of his perfectly toned body. His mother would have never have allowed him out of the house looking anything less then perfect.

Potter gave him a look over his newspaper making it clear that he wouldn’t tolerate any unpleasant behaviour from Draco.

Draco sneered at the thought of following Potter’s orders but he obediently drowned in his breakfast.

Potter like Draco wasn’t allowed out of the house. The Order of the Phoenix didn’t want to risk another kidnapping incident occurring again. Potter was given such abrasive security on his rare visits outside that he preferred to stay indoors. That evening not many residents of Grimmauld Place had stayed behind to give them company. Granger, with her tag along Weasley, had decided to visit the Wizarding Library to follow the new leads in their Dark Lord research program. The Weasley lady had gone back home to manage her affairs on that side of the squalor while all the bustling aurors were off onto their various ministry jobs.

Draco yawned feeling a little itchy at a place on his back that he couldn’t reach easily. Potter was sitting at the fireplace, in a large armchair, staring intensely into the blaring fire. The red reflections of the fire on his pale face disturbed Draco a little. Draco looked around not sure whether he wanted to engage with Potter in any kind of conversation while he was in such a strange mood. Draco considered his alternatives and decided to have a seat in the armchair placed opposite to Potter. He shuddered at the thought of any contact with the hideous painting that had taken a liking to him and his pureblood status. Apparently it didn’t mind his runaway status because, for it, he had come back to his original family home. During its frightful fits of anger Draco would be the one sent to pacify it. Apparently his father’s bargaining skills had passed down to him.

At the thought of his father, Draco felt a ball of lead form in his stomach. Draco had never considered how easily he would forget his former life. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the seat.

A moment of silence passed before Potter acknowledged his presence.                                  

“Everyone gone?”

Draco didn’t want to open his eyes because Potter’s gaze on him usually made him feel tingly and exposed but he did anyway. “Yes.”

The shadows across Potter’s profile made his face strangely angular and he looked a lot more rugged and older. Draco gulped at the seriousness in his eyes.

“Malfoy,”

“Yes,” Draco’s voice was now very small and quite unsure of what to expect.

“You do know what strategy we are currently pursuing in our hunt for Voldemort.”

Draco shivered at the name but with each passing day spent with Potter and his gang of idiots he got used to it. Draco nodded with eyes fixed at Potter’s nose. Potter leaned closer looking grim.

“Well, we have recently been angling our policies towards taking down specific death eaters to reduce Voldemort’s power. We have been successful at taking down Mr. Lestrange and we’ve been looking at bigger fish.”

Draco gulped knowing what was coming next.

“So, how far have you come in tracking…my father.”

“We’ve been having insider help in knowing Lucius’ day to day plans.”

Draco’s eyes shot up.

“My mother,” It wasn’t a question but more of a statement. Draco felt his throat constrict at the thought of how much his mother was willing to risk for him.

“I…” Potter looked hesitant for the first time, “I’m sorry for the way your family’s breaking down.”

“I guess it’s all the bad karma we’ve been stacking up,” Draco mumbled to his hands.

A hand slowly patted his shoulder but Draco didn’t look up. He didn’t want Potter to know how much this was affecting him.

“I’m also sorry for what I said the other day.”

Potter crouched down next to him. Draco frowned as he tried to remember what Potter could have done that warranted any apology.

“For what?” Draco’s face scrunched in confusion. Potter shifted a little looking uncomfortable.

“I said some things I shouldn’t have… on the train.”

Draco nodded, not quite sure on how to answer.

‘I’m sorry,” Potter began again not really sure of how Draco was taking in what they were taking about. The green eyes were almost braced for some sort of unexpected whiplash.

Draco wanted to get up and get away from Potter’s apologetic eyes but he really had nowhere to go especially with Potter nearly blocking his way by practically lying down in front of his seat like a bloody cat. Draco almost felt like laughing at the idea of his owning Potter in that way. Suddenly the image that came in his mind made him want to lose his dinner much less the need to laugh. Draco felt a blush creep up his ears and he wanted to cross his legs but Potter really hadn’t left him any leg space.

It was probably at that moment Potter realized that he was in too intimate a setting with someone who was still effectively an enemy and rival. He shifted back against the bottom of his abandoned armchair.

They settled back in heavy silence both in contemplative remembering mood.

Suddenly without warning the fireplace erupted. Draco backed up into his armchair with half a shout while Harry jumped towards him and held onto his leg. Draco wondered in a complete moment of madness how Potter had managed to have such an amazing shot at his leg though the layers of robes that he had refused to replace with muggle garments. 

“Thank God,” Potter breathed as Tonks’ familiar face came into view. She on the other side didn’t look a least bit relieved or even pleased to see them.

“What’s wrong,” Draco was the first one to notice something amiss. Her face broke its painful grimace into something frightfully gloomy. “Harry, I’m sorry.”

“What’s wrong,” Draco repeated again more urgently as he kept on switching his focus alternatively on Potter and then on Tonks. Potter had gone deathly pale.

“Has something happened to my friends,” Harry whispered softly.

Tonks looked down and hesitated as she spoke again, “Nothing can be said right now but the Library Square has been attacked fifteen minutes ago and your friends have been officially added to list of those missing.”

Potter gave in a very tight, short breath but he didn’t say anything.

“Don’t worry, Harry, we’re doing all that we can to find them,” Tonks said apologetically and backed out of the conversation. The fire returned back to normal.

“Potter,” Draco wasn’t sure what to say. The nice genes had never really existed in his family.

Potter looked back at him with his amazingly liquid eyes and looked down again. “I… I think I need to be alone.”      

With that announcement he got up and left. Draco wasn’t one to argue with people over things like these.

Draco tossed and turned in his bed. The dim light of the moon invading his room was annoying him and Potter’s strange mood was troubling him. He had always wished that the two sidekicks would disappear into thin air but now that it had happened he didn’t feel any better. Draco knew he hadn’t started liking them or anything so he couldn’t place his concern. The Aurors, combined with the Weasleys, had made a visit later that night. The Weasley mother had cried while the rest of the redheads had looked on morosely.  Draco had been completely ignored in the entire hustle bustle of activity that evening and he preferred it better that way. At least they didn’t look at him everything single time they mentioned death eaters. Potter had stayed in a corner the whole time looking at a picture of the trio. His eyes were red rimmed and lonely.

Later when they had left Draco had tried another awkward attempt at comforting Potter but he was repulsed once again.

Draco turned to the other side as he tried to go back to sleep but Potter’s haunted eyes kept invading his mind and the sense of dread took a turn for the worse.

An alarm, specifically made for Potter’s protection, suddenly started ringing wildly. Draco shot up from his bed and raced out of the room. Never had any instinct touched him with such powerful force. He knew that leaving Potter by himself had been the worst thing he could have done.

He raced up the stairs that he knew led to Potter’s room. As he had instinctively known Potter’s room was empty. The red sheets were completely made and there was no sign that anyone had slept in them that night. The desks were relatively messy and they lacked the one important item that Draco knew was a permanent fixture there; the picture that Potter had been holding earlier that evening.

“Shit, Shit, where have you gone,” Draco muttered frantically as looked around in the other rooms hoping to search for some clues onto Potter’s whereabouts. Draco knew a lot more than just an alarm had been set up for Potter’s protection and he couldn’t help wonder if the Gryffindor had taken them down. Coming down the stairs Draco’s suspicion was confirmed as he nearly tripped over a bewitched auror. Numerous attempts at awaking him proved futile so Draco decided to re-engage in more pressing matters.

Distant rumbling clouds signalled the predictability of the unpredictable British weather and Draco hoped that Potter hadn’t been stupid enough to run off into a brewing storm. The entrance hall was extremely chilly and Draco was thoroughly frustrated as he realized that he was wearing almost nothing.  The main door was wide open and Draco made the swift choice of walking out into the street following the obvious clues the runaway had left behind.

“Potter,” Draco gave a hoarse shout as a gust of wind hit his face. He screamed the name again a little further out. Draco mentally vowed that in the future he would sleep wearing his complete set of robes in case of more unexpected emergencies. As the chill of the windy summer night reached his bones Draco’s voice reached a strangled pitch. The street was completely deserted with no signs of life except the odd animal.

“Potter, I’m going to fucking kill you,” Draco growled as something sharp pinched his bare foot. Draco bent his foot at an odd angle to see that it was bleeding.

“This is the last straw, you idiot,” Draco shouted into the nothingness of the dark, “I don’t care what you’re up to, Mr. hero, I’m not taking responsibility for anything you do so I’m leaving,”

Just as he finished his tirade something grabbed Draco from behind. A hand firmly clamped onto his mouth while another around his waist. Draco breathed in heavily as he tried to get away.

“Stop struggling, Malfoy,” Potter’s soft whispering breathed into his ear. Draco pressed a hand onto his ear as the voice slowly ticked it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” Draco hissed as he let Potter drag him back to the foyer.

“Taking you away inside, of course,” Potter replied calmly. Draco struggled some more but gave up again. As they reached steps Draco let his weight give out under him and he slumped heavily onto the marble.

“You are an absolute shithead,” Draco announced bluntly as he folded his arms across his bare chest.

Potter looked down at him pointedly but refrained from a comment. He looked at his watch and then towards the sky.

“I’m leaving,” Potter said with no emotion.

“I know,” Draco looked away sulkily, “You’re going after them aren’t you.”

“Yes,” The clouds gave another crackle and rain started dribbling down the marble overly.

“So you’re leaving me behind,” Draco grabbed hold of Potter’s shirt and pulled himself up using it, “with all those damned people who’ll point fingers at me the second they find out you’re gone.”

Potter chuckled hollowly, “Still thinking about yourself, Malfoy.”

Draco glared into Potter’s eyes, for the first time, not scared. “Yes, who else would I be concerned about?”

Potter’s chuckled some more and then he started to turn away but Draco still had a grip on his clothes.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Draco growled forcefully.

Potter raised his eyebrow.

“Look I need you, Potter, Damnit, What will I do without you,” Draco’s voice turned hysterical with each word as he realized that Potter really was leaving.

Potter looked at him with an odd look in the eye. Draco stared completely unaware of how much the distance between them was decreasing. Suddenly Potter’s hands tightly grabbed onto his shoulders and lips landed on Draco’s.

Time stopped completely for the Slytherin.

Draco could feel the rain splashing down around him: cats yowling at some distance; his foot throbbing; Potter’s hands on his shoulder but he couldn’t feel or even believe where Potter’s lips were at that moment. Draco jerked as one of Potter’s hands slowly started to slide down his chest. The slight caress was manoeuvred down to his side as it griped onto waist.

Draco could feel his heart in his ears as Potter gave a slight exhalation of breath between their mouths and pulled Draco closer. Potter bit onto the edge of Draco’s lip and pulled at it hungrily.

Draco wanted to shove back but he only positioned his head with a slight tilt making it easier for Potter to lean in further taking the intoxicating war of breath and tongues into Draco’s mouth.

One groan was emitted between the two of them and it was a mystery as to who produced it. Potter leaned back slightly and Draco could see that he was breathing heavily. Before Draco could say something Potter leaned for another wet tongue twining into Draco’s slightly open mouth. Potter’s teeth clacked furiously with Draco’s own in an aggressive and dominating bid to take control of Draco’s personal space. His hands bit into Draco’s vulnerable skin viciously.

A second later Potter broke the kiss. Before Draco could realize what was happening a blast of light entered his vision. The last word Draco heard before blacking out was, “Sorry, Draco.”