Draco Malfoy sat in an empty, quiet corner of the library, a few books scattered across the table in front of him. He was deeply engrossed in the current book he was reading, when his ears picked up the sound of footsteps approaching. Thinking it the librarian, Madam Pince, Draco ignored it. It wasn't until the footsteps stopped when they reached him that he realized it wasn't the librarian at all. Sighing softly, he looked up, only to frown when he saw who it was. Harry Potter.

Harry Bloody Potter. Or, as Draco liked to call him, The Boy Who Lived To Be Annoying. Ever since that very first day at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends had been nothing but a thorn in Draco's side. Continuously ruining his plans, getting him in trouble, beating him in every class as well as in Quidditch. But although Harry and his friends had done their best to make his school life a torturous experience, Draco had a different reason for hating Harry Potter. A specific reason, all for him. Because on that very first day there, before any of them had been sorted, before any divides were made, Harry had done something unforgivable. Draco, who had been surrounded by people he didn't know, with only a few children of his parent's friends, had been feeling lost and nervous and alone. But when he had finally seen a familiar face amongst the crowd, someone he recognized from outside of his parent's social circle, he had felt a little more in control of the situation. Despite the fact that the child was famous, Draco decided to offer his hand in friendship. It was the first move of solidarity, the first individual thing Draco had ever dared to do, the first time he had ever defied his father's wishes. So it hurt, a lot, when his offer was rejected. Partly because he was not used to rejection from anyone but his father, and partly because it was publicly humiliating. But mostly because, Draco had really wanted Harry to be his friend.

So now, in their final year at Hogwarts, which was, admittedly, a do-over for last year, Draco couldn't help but frown every time he saw the other boy. Because now Draco was an individual, now he no longer lived in the image of his father, and had created his own path during the war and chosen to fight for his family rather than for his fathers' beliefs. So he shouldn't need Potter for anything, shouldn't need him to help find individuality and self-security. But still, after all that time, after all the years, after all the fighting and taunting and rudeness, Draco still couldn't help it. He wanted Harry to be his friend.

Of course, he couldn't say that. Not after years of pretending to hate the other boy. Not after calling his friends and parents awful names, and certainly not after being the one responsible for the death of so many people. No, he couldn't say it, shouldn't even think it. Thinking things like that, impossible things, only led to trouble. So sitting there, at an empty table in a quiet corner of the school library, Draco put on his mask, raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow while smirking.

"Potter."

Harry Potter stood in front of the table and looked down at Draco through his glasses. Draco took in the messy hair and messier tie knot and smirked.

Potter responded in his usual fashion. "Malfoy."

Draco leaned back in his chair before realizing that Harry was without his usual Gryffindor entourage. Which was weird, especially since after the war it seemed Granger and the Weasel were always with him. "Where are your sidekicks?"

He watched Harry stiffen. "You mean my friends? Oh right, you probably don't know what that word means, seeing as Slytherins don't have friends, just lackeys." He glared down at the blonde. Draco jolted slightly at the acerbic tone, but tried to hide it behind a scoff. It was suitably casual though, because it wouldn't do to let Harry know just how much that statement had hurt. Draco scowled to himself. Yeah, we don't have friends, but that's only because everyone rejects our sincere offers of friendship when we are young and impressionable you absolute arsehole.

He didn't say that, of course. No, instead he snapped his book shut and propped his feet up on the table, affecting a mock offended look. "Wow, I'm offended. Seriously though, Golden Boy, why are you alone?"

Harry sighed and Draco watched as he visibly sagged, his previously stiff spine curling in slightly. "Don't call me that. And I just...needed some time away from them, I guess. Away from the common room." He shrugged, averting his eyes. "Where are your lackeys, Malfoy? Get tired of your whining and run off?"

Draco scowled. "No, Potter, my friends didn't run off. I need a break sometimes too. But unlike you, my life isn't a paradise, so I actually have a valid reason." Honestly, who did Potter think he was? His friends were perfect, and nice, and he was rich and happy with his little Weasel girlfriend and all her Weasel siblings. Whereas Draco had one person in his entire dorm who didn't despise his very soul, and that's only because Blaise couldn't care less who was on what side in the war. He'd lost the only two people he'd ever actually considered friends during the battle, and it had only been by shoving it down deep inside of him and not thinking about it that Draco was able to move forwards and live his life. Or, that is, what was left of his life. Next to no fortune, father in prison, mother in a constant state of depression, his mentor and godfather gone; Draco wasn't quite sure what was still left of his life from before the war. Not even his owl, Archimedes, had survived.

Harry scowled back. "Whatever, Malfoy." He spat out, before turning away. Draco watched as he got farther and farther from him, and frowned to himself. Harry did seem really upset about something, and he had obviously come to the library and tried to talk to him for a reason. Despite his conflicting emotions on Harry Potter, Draco knew that the larger part of him still desired his acceptance and friendship. And so it was with this in mind, that Draco got up from the table and started walking after the brunette. Just as Harry reached the library doorway, Draco said, "Wait, Potter." And proceeded to jog up to the now unmoving boy.

"What, Malfoy?" Harry sounded defeated, and the words came out on a sigh.

Draco frowned and stepped around the other boy to try to get a look at his face. Something was definitely off. "What's wrong? Why'd you want to talk to me?" Draco attempted to catch Harry's gaze, but Potter refused to look up.

"What makes you think I wanted to talk to you?"

Draco scoffed and ignored the insult. And the urge to insult him back. 'Time to be productive, Draco,' he told himself. 'Not the time to fall into childish habits.' "You interrupted my reading time, in the most remote part of the library, Potter. I'm not an idiot. So, go on then." He waved his hand in the air, trying to get Potter to talk to him.

Harry sighed and finally looked up, his eyes meeting Draco's. 'Wow,' Draco thought, 'they are really, really green up close.' He shook himself out of his thoughts to hear Potter speak.

"I just...needed a break from everything, you know? I love Ron and Hermione, and the rest of the Gryffindors, but they just... well, anyways, I just needed a break, and decided the library would do. But now I'm fine, so I'm just gonna go..." Harry slipped past Draco.

Draco's eyes narrowed. Wait a second, that still didn't explain why Potter had interrupted him...

"No, Potter."

Harry stopped in his tracks, his body half way out the library doors. "What?"

Draco shook his head. "You're lying about something, and I want to know what. Why'd you come talk to me if all you were trying to do was escape? No, it doesn't make sense." He stared at the other boy, not blinking, waiting for an answer. He watched as Potter turned his body all the way around while sighing, his narrow shoulders moving up and down. He wanted to know what had made Potter decide to stop at his table, what had made Harry begin a conversation with him of all people, his school nemesis. Why he needed a break.

He needed to know why Harry had chosen him over his friends, even if it had just been for a moment.

Harry's face turned red, before it went completely blank, as if he'd just shut down. "No, I'm not. You're not as important as you seem to think you are, Malfoy." And with those parting words, Harry rushed out of the library and down the hall. Draco stared after him, an insult and denial on his lips, before he narrowed his eyes and turned to stalk back to his table.

"What a complete arse, who does he think he is? He interrupted me, and insulted me, not the other way around the bloody wanker! Fine, he doesn't want to tell me, whatever, that's his problem, what do I care?" Draco muttered to himself as he gathered his books together and stalked out of the library down to the dungeons. But even as angry and pissed off as he was at the other boy, Draco knew deep down that he did care. It had hurt, to see Potter close himself off after nearly opening himself up to the blonde, and Draco felt like a truce had been on offer but had been snatched away before he'd even had the chance to accept it.

His thoughts were still on the other boy when he reached the dungeons and the Slytherin Common Room, and as a result he ended up crashing into another person.

"Oof!" He said, falling onto the dormitory floor, his books falling all around him as they tumbled out of his arms.

"Hey! Watch it, traitor!" Pansy Parkinson's screech filled the air as she was jostled backwards. Draco winced and glanced up, only to see her wand raising to point at him. He tried to get his wand out of his robe pocket, but because he was sitting down he couldn't manage to pull it out. Her spell hit him directly in the chest, and her triumphant smirk was the last thing he saw before everything went dark.