"You did it!" Draco was grinning from ear to ear as they sat down to in the potions class the day after the tournament. "You beat the dragon!"

Harry felt the blood flood his cheeks and tried not to grin too much. His insides twisted at the sight of Draco's smile. "Well," he said sheepishly, pushing a hand through his hair. "I got hurt, and anyway I had help, it's not like I-"

"Potter, I swear to God, if you say one more modest sentence I'll kick you. You did it! You should be proud! I brought Manimi with me. Thought she might like to congratulate you for herself."

Out of the bag slid Manimi, who instantly reared up on the desk and looked at Harry. "Well done, Harry!" for a snake, she sounded rather excited. "Draco was very worried, but we're both glad you pulled through. I mean, I knew you would, but it is nice to be sure."

Harry laughed. "Thanks, Manimi. How are you?"

"Splendid. I found a mouse earlier. The food Draco gives me isn't bad, but it does feel good to hunt. Anyway, there's Professor Snape. I should go now. Congratulations again, Harry."

"By the way, the Polyjuice potion is complete. I'm handing it tomorrow." Draco said this offhand, but it surprised Harry.

"I'd forgotten about that."

"I know. I didn't want to bother you with it, seeing as you were already really stressed, so I just got it done, and it should be completed tonight. I expect we'll get extra points for completing it early."

"Thanks," Began Harry, but before he could continue, Snape had rapped his wand on Harry's desk, and he reluctantly turned his attention to the board.

By the end of the lesson they had organised a potions study lesson, though Harry suspected they wouldn't get much done. Draco had a hundred questions to ask and it was difficult to have a full conversation without Snape turning to make a snide remark to Harry. For some reason, Harry saw Zabbini twist in his seat a couple of times when they talked and catch Draco's eyes, giving him a look that seemed to chastise, But maybe he had imagined it.

The rest of the day Harry spent talking to Ron, and after so long not talking to him, it felt amazing to speak freely again. Time passed quickly now that the First Task wasn't there to weigh him down, and before he knew it, it was dinnertime. Harry noticed that some people seemed much more open to conversation with him than before. Obviously, it wasn't only Ron who had changed his mind after witnessing the first task.

Despite Ron's protests, Harry went to the Slytherin Guest Room after dinner (though Ron didn't know that - he thought Harry just wanted time to think about the golden egg). Draco and Manimi were there before him and Draco was half sitting, half lying on the sofa with Manimi. He got up as Harry entered the room.

"Okay, first things first." He said, and Harry got the impression that he had already planned what he was going to say, "What in the name of Merlin does Weasley mean by it? One minute he treats you like dirt, the next you're best friends again. Did he even apologise? How dare he be so mean before the task, and then go back to being best buddies once he thought you had a chance!"

"Hey, Draco- hey, let me talk! He did apologise, and I said it was fine, okay? He knows he's been an idiot, and anyway, he's my best friend. I don't want to be petty, I'm just glad he's talking to me again."

"He hurt you! He-" Draco stopped and steadied himself. "How can you just let him back in when he made you feel so bad?"

"Because he's my best friend. He made a mistake and he apologised. That's all I needed."

Draco crossed his arms. "It was wrong of him. He should have been there for you."

"But he's there now," Said Harry patiently. "That's what counts."

Draco studied him for a minute in silence. From the sofa, Manimi hissed to Harry.

"He's been fuming about this ever since he saw you guys together at lunch. Overprotective, if you ask me. You have every right to choose your own friends. You know what's best for you."

"What's she saying? Asked Draco curiously, as he always was when Manimi spoke to Harry.

"She says she thinks you're overprotective, and that I know what's best for me."

Draco looked at Manimi and the snake looked at him. Then he sighed a little, and nodded. "Oh, all right. Sorry, I shouldn't underestimate your judgment."

"Don't be," smiled Harry. "It's quite flattering to have someone stand up for me."

Draco's cheeks coloured slightly, but he returned Harry's smile. "Anyway, another thing – how's the injury, I saw the dragon got you with its tail."

Harry shrugged and sat down on the sofa. "It's not bad, and Madame Pomfrey fixed me up okay."

They continued to talk, though the topic of their conversation soon gravitated away from the task, and was instead pulled back and fourth through whatever theme came to their mind. Manimi occasionally commented, but seemed content, as usual, to simply listen. Eventually, Harry checked his watch and realised that they had been talking for more than an hour, and that Ron and Hermione would be expecting him back in the Gryffindor common room by now. He stood.

"I probably have to get going now. But I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Okay," Said Draco, reluctantly. "I guess they'll be wondering where I've got to too. But this was good, we should do it again.'

"Yeah, we should." Said Harry, picking the invisibility cloak off the ground where he'd dropped it.

They left the room together, Harry under the invisibility cloak in case any Slytherins happened to be in the vicinity. They weren't.

"Well, goodnight, Harry." Said Draco, smiling in Harry's general direction. Then they went their separate ways.

0o0oHarry0o0o

The first flakes of snow fell on December the fifteenth. The school barely noticed, though, because it was too busy thinking about the Yule Ball. It was only eight days away, and Harry still didn't have a date. Harry also still didn't know how to dance, despite McGonagall's best efforts, and this might cause some problems considering he was going to have to open the dance, being a champion and all. The golden egg wasn't solving itself either, and had been sitting in Harry's dorm, untouched, since he had first won it. This Draco knew because Harry wouldn't shut up about it, and it was probably the reason why he had been staring at the same sentence in his potions textbook for the past ten minutes, he knee jiggling restlessly under the desk.

"If you stare at that sentence much longer, I think it's going to catch fire."

Harry jumped and looked up in shock. "Huh?"

"You've been staring at the same sentence on that page for the last ten minutes, and it's going to burn a hole in the paper if you stare much longer."

"Oh. I didn't realise. Sorry."

"You don't need to be sorry," said Draco, laughing a little. "What's up, anyway? You've been really distracted recently."

"Just the Yule ball, and dancing in front of everyone when I can't dance, and just all the usual stuff." He sighed, and ran a hand distractedly through his tangled hair. "I tried asking someone, actually."

Draco felt a jolt of emotions at this news, all of which he concealed perfectly. In a casual voice, he asked;

"Really? Who?"

"Cho Chang. She's going with Cedric." He sounded bitter. Envy, as well as triumph that she had declined, filled Draco's mind. He stopped himself smiling.

"Too bad, mate. You'll find someone, though."

"No one I like." Harry leant back in his chair, stretching his back and revealing a strip of skin between his trousers and shirt. Draco looked away quickly.

"Anyway," continued Harry after a minute or two, "You going with anyone?"

"Pansy," Draco admitted. It hadn't been his idea, and Blaise was still a little pissed at him for it, but somehow he had ended up organising to go with her. However, he had reassured Blaise that he definitely didn't have a crush on Pansy, so it would be fine. "Seemed like the right thing to do,"

"You mean you don't have a crush on her?"

"No! I think she likes me but, well, she isn't really my type." Girls aren't really your type, his mind said, but he ignored it. "Anyway, it doesn't matter who I like. I'm probably going to be married off to someone once I leave school. When you think about it, it may well be Pansy."

"That's terrible!" Said Harry, sounding shocked.

"Yeah, well, when you're a Malfoy you're expected to uphold the pure-blood tradition and all that." He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"Maybe you won't have to. You don't know what's going to happen in the future."

"My father won't ever go away. He'll never let me do what I want."

"Draco," Harry spoke quietly, gently this time. "Is... is everything okay with... with you and your dad?"

It felt like a weight was pressing on Draco's mind. He didn't know what to say, and subconsciously rubbed over the bump of the scar over his stomach. Finally, he answered with the simple truth, thinking that was probably his best option, and at the same time wondering why he was telling Harry at all.

"No. It isn't okay."

"What," Harry was clearly unsure of what to say next. "What about it isn't okay?"

Draco didn't say anything. Eventually, Harry began again to scratch out potions notes on a piece of parchment, and Draco went back to the sketch he had been doing of Harry underneath the table, trying to capture with graphite the way his hair fell in a tangle across his forehead, and the reflections in the lenses of his glasses. Finally, when he couldn't think of anything else to add to the drawing, he stood up and stretched. An idea had occurred him as he was drawing (the methodical pastime had always helped him think), and he was considering whether or not he was brave enough to go ahead with it. Eventually, he decided just to do it. Nothing would come of it anyway, he just wanted to help Harry and this seemed like a good way to go about it. Anyway, it wasn't as if anything was going to happen.

Harry looked up as Draco began to make his way across the room towards the door. "Where are you going? I'm sorry if I was a bit tactless, I didn't mean to be."

"Don't worry, it's not that. Just stay here. I'll be back in a minute, I just need to get something."

0o0o

Draco returned after a few minutes, carrying a small device, which he set upon the desk. Once he'd put it down, Harry could see that it was a portable radio.

"Draco, what're you doing?"

He got no answer, as Draco was concentrating on finding a good radio station. Finally, the chorus of 'spellbound' by Celestina Warbeck filled the room, and Draco straightened. "It'll have to do, I suppose," He said, more to himself than to Harry.

"Draco, what are you doing?"

"Harry Potter, I am going to teach you how to dance."

"You're going to what?"

"Teach you to dance, Potter. You know, moving to music?"

"How can you teach me to dance? Why?"

"I happen to be very good at it. I had to be - I learned when I was very young and have to do it at the family balls etc. every year. Why? Because otherwise, you're going to make a complete dunce of yourself in front of the entire population of the senior students at Hogwarts, as well as two other schools."

"You know, Draco, I've never had a more encouraging or positive teacher. Plus, what makes you think you can teach me to dance, when several weeks of lessons with McGonagall haven't?"

Draco crossed his arms. "I'm trying to help you, Harry."

"Fine, Fine." Harry's voice was steady, but his nerves weren't. He wasn't really sure if he was mentally prepared to dance with Draco, especially with the dilemma he'd been having recently about his, well, his feelings for him. He tried, and consequently failed, to push the thoughts from his mind as he stood up and faced Draco. "Well then, what do I do?"

"Well, you're going to be the girl at first, because it'll be easier for me to teach you that way. No, don't give me that look, Harry. You can do the male part in a bit. Now, you'll be waltzing for this, so put your right hand on my shoulder and hold my right with your left. Yeah, like that. Okay, now just follow what I'm doing. You've probably learned the basics with your McGonagall, so this shouldn't be too tricky. Ready? And: one; two; three..."

What followed had to be the most awkward two minutes of his life. He kept tripping, and he could tell that Draco was fighting a laugh almost the whole time. His face burned and he made a huge effort to look anywhere but in Draco's eyes as they moved haphazardly through the room. Finally, the song ended, and gladly Harry stepped back from Draco.

"That was pretty bad." Stated Draco, as he leant over the radio again trying to find a station that was playing a good song. "But it's okay, you'll get better. Ah, there we go. This one's slower, so you should find it easier to dance to."

The song was a slow tune that Harry had heard a few times at The Burrow that summer, though he hadn't really paid attention to it then. Again, he took Draco's hand and they began to move through the room, slower this time, with Harry's movements becoming more steady and confident.

"Harry, I'm not sure why you find my chin so fascinating, but you really should be looking at my eyes. It's very bad etiquette not to make eye contact. Honestly, what do they teach you in Muggle schools?"

"Not much," said Harry, reluctantly raised his eyes to meet Draco's and found himself staring into irises of such light blue that they looked like ice, with patterns etched in grey across them. In some parts, they were almost white, so bright he felt as though he were looking into the sun, and yet he was unable to look away. His heart beat in his throat and the music seemed to be coming from a very long way away as he stared, transfixed, at eyes that seemed to be drawing closer. He found his head tilting upwards the arm around his back tightening, and then... The feel of lips upon his own. And the whole world was lost, melted away around them as he closed his eyes. All that existed was feeling.

Breaking apart was like coming up for air. The world swam back into focus, but all Harry could see was Draco looking at him. Neither spoke. Harry was suddenly very aware of Draco's hands around his back, and his own around Draco's neck. Numbly, he wondered at what point they had stopped dancing. In the background, the song finished, and Draco's eyes lost the softness they had had only a second before. Suddenly, he looked afraid. The arms around his back loosened.

"Harry, I-" He took a step away from him. In the background, some obnoxious radio presenter spoke in an upbeat voice about the song. Draco turned away and walked over to it, clicking it off. In place of the voice, heavy silence beat on their ears. Harry felt as though he had forgotten how to speak. He was numb, but he felt tingling in the tips of his fingers. He didn't care if that was a good thing or not. Slowly, Draco turned back to him, and took a deep breath.

"I can't do this."

A dull ache crept through Harry's stomach. "Draco, I-"

"Please, don't make this any harder for me Harry." He ran a hand through his hair. "This can't happen. I can't be with you, and you can't be with me. It'll just hurt us."

"It- it might not,"

"It will." Draco leant against the desk and wiped hand over his face. "I'm not the sort of person you should be around anyway. I'll just hurt you. I- I don't want to hurt you, Harry."

"But you are hurting me!" Suddenly Harry's voice came back to him in a rush. "Please, Draco, don't do this to me!"

"I don't have a choice!" Draco stood sharply and faced Harry. "I can't put you in danger and believe me, if we were... together, then you would be even less safe than you already are! What would I do if you were hurt because of me? Can you even imagine if someone found out, the uproar it would cause? What our houses, our friends, my father, would do?" He stopped again, and suddenly he looked very young. Harry could see the circles, like bruises, under his eyes, the way his skin looked almost translucent. He didn't know how he hadn't seen it before. Draco looked down at his shoes, and a tear dropped onto the carpet. "Please, Harry. Just go."

"Draco-"

"Go, Harry! Please."

0o0o

The cool air stung on his face as he stumbled into the grounds, barely able to see for tears and almost tripping on the invisibility cloak. He didn't know where he was going; didn't care. Draco didn't want him. That was all that mattered.

When had it happened, this feeling which now engulfed him? It had been there for a while, but had risen like bile to the surface the moment he had looked into those quicksilver eyes. He wanted to take off his feelings like an old jacket, to lose them in the murky grounds and never think about them again, but he couldn't, so onwards he stumbled, until he sank at the foot of a tree and leaned his head against it, relishing the pain that the wind caused his hands and feet and the way it blocked out the pain in his mind. Dimly, he realised that Hermione and Ron would be worried about him.

Let them worry, he thought. He couldn't muster the energy to care.