Quidditch Shed

Harry had flown around the Quidditch pitch a couple times to clear his head. It was effectively cleared; he stepped out of the shower and began to dry himself, silently humming a nonsensical song. Draco had seen a broomstick leaning against the outside of the Gryffindor Shed and, curious, had peeked inside. Seeing Harry, he stopped and watched (he's not a Malfoy for nothing, you know) with interest. Harry was busy humming and drying himself with a rather undersized towel, and jumped about ten feet when Draco's drawl reached his ears.

"You having fun, Potter?"

Instinctively, Harry threw his towel at Draco's head, in the exact manner Oliver had thrown it at him the first time he caught Harry watching him intently in the shower. (After that, he let him.)

"Malfoy!" Harry yelped, caught off guard.

Draco grinned a rather twisted kind of grin, stepped inside the shed, and closed the door behind him. He stared at Harry, his mind conspicuously and suspiciously very very blank at the moment. Crossing his arms over his chest (which was so ineffectual as to be humorous), Harry frowned at Draco.

"Well, there seems to be a lack of basic respect for other's modesty in here."

Draco leaned against the door of the shed and replied, "There is? I didn't notice."

Harry slowly backed away, almost nervously. "I would ask you why you're here but I think that's pretty self-explanitory at this point..."

In return, Draco opened his mouth slightly, then changed his mind and thought for a moment before answering, "Why am I here, then?"

Unwilling to answer, the wet boy stomped over to his locker and threw clothes on himself. Lots of clothes.

Draco wondered if Harry could hear his heart hammering from over there.

"You going somewhere?"

"Away from here."

Draco moved from the door and stood, relatively (meaning 'not very') balanced in a standing position, feet below, head above. "Any particular reason?"

Harry stopped gathering his things together and turned to look at Draco. In an even and serious tone, he asked, "Why should I play stripper for you?"

The other boy blushed.

"I wasn't...I...I didn't mean to catch you in here, I just kind of 'did'." Silently, Draco added, and 'it wasn't my fault you weren't wearing anything either'.

Harry interrupted Draco, "But you did, and you stayed." Silently, Harry added, 'and it's not like I'm going to start taking showers clothed just to keep you from walking in on me'.

Draco felt unfairly berated. "What was I supposed to do?"

Harry gave him a faint smile.

"As a servant to the Dark Lord you should have taken advantage of my weak position and inattention and killed or stunned me on the spot. But you didn't." He looked into Draco's stunned face. "You're too emotional."

Stunned at Harry's words, Draco caught the other boy by the arm as he tried to pass. The Gryffindor stopped, and could hardly look straight at his friend without feeling tears threaten to surface. But Draco didn't look at him."Please don't leave."

Harry silently damned Draco for making the moment even more awkward, though now he felt less so now that he was fully clothed. His conscience could not hold back his next thought; no matter how hard it strained, the word still came, biting and harsh.

"Why?"

His hand slid off Harry's arm. "I don't want you to leave."

Harry sat down on the bench and watched Draco with his piercing green eyes.

"Please don't talk about that," Draco whispered. He went and sat down next to Harry, who turned sharply to look at him.

"I don't understand you, Draco Malfoy." And everything that had been bothering Harry about his friend came out.

"One day you're a laconic, sharp-tongued enemy who, it seems, will do anything to hurt others, then you become this emotionally reserved, angsty teenager whose problems are so selfish and single-minded that it's hard to have sympathy for you. I dunno, Draco, maybe I missed a vital part of your development into a different person but all of a sudden you're this irrational, moody child. It scares me. I know that's not who you are, and it's not who you want to be."

His gaze fell and he took Draco's left arm in his right hand, and mercilessly pulled the sleeve down to reveal the tattoo of a skull with a serpent in it's mouth. The charmed marking, normally faint, glowed a deep black, probably due to the proximity of such an enemy to its master. Draco's eyes watched the monstrosity on his forearm, as it appeared to writhe, and pulse in intensity from second to second.

"What do you want me to do? Maybe I missed something too."

"How could you misread your own feelings? How could you be so irrational?" Harry jabbed a finger at the disfiguring mark.

"You see what you are now! You're a finger, a recruit in his following of Death Eaters. Do you believe in the cause? Are you going to risk your life for that....that thing?"Silence ensued between them but lasted for not even a moment.

"Are you going to destroy the people you love then?"

Eyes blazing, Draco wrenched his arm from Harry's grip and stood up. "How do you know it wasn't for something else!" he asked, fully aware he was yelling. "You always assume everyone is out to get you, Harry! Not bloody everyone wants to kill you!"

Harry stopped sitting. "What am I supposed to believe? All my life I've been hidden, been charmed for protection, been locked away so that Voldemort couldn't reach me, and Dumbledore has warned me every year for the past seven that I have to stay on the offense!" He approached Draco slowly. "Tell me why you did it."

"Because I fucking love you, Harry!"

"That doesn't make any sense!"

Draco sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, eyes averted. "I don't want to argue with you. I did what I think is right, and that's all that matters. I'm sorry that you can't trust me more."
He turned away from Harry and walked toward the door. "But now I'm sorry I even came in. Just stay away from me, Potter."

Turning on heel and without another word, Draco stode out and closed the door silently.