AN I don't own HP or any of the characters! Sorry this chapter is so short but I figured it was better to update than wait and never update :/

Draco absolutely refused to let the curse be transferred onto another person. He, of all people, knew exactly what it felt like to be under his father's thumb and he wouldn't wish that on anyone. So, after a lot of arguing, Pomfrey and Moody finally agreed to find another option. In the meantime, Katie was treated with a few memory charms and released, good as new, though Draco now saw remnants of the curse in how she moved. He took the curse back.

It terrified him to even think about but he wanted the curse back. He missed the steadiness, missed feeling like he knew what was going on or what he was supposed to be doing, but most of all he missed the thoughtless warmth. Even when he was scared of his father-which was all the time-the curse had little traces of warmth. Moody said it was the spell, relaxing him so he wouldn't question orders. Draco didn't care, though, because every second he spent without the curse on him made it feel like just existing was a constant stream of panic attacks.

Harry, to everyone's surprise, did not slip away the first chance he got. Even when the curse was put back on, Harry didn't avoid him or go back to their typical dynamic. When Pomfrey lifted it for short periods of time to do health scans, Harry was always there with him and always ready to help him through the panic. He held Draco's hand without judgment. If it got bad enough, or if Pomfrey had to leave it off for very long, Harry would settle onto the bed behind Draco and wrap his arms around the blond like anchors. It was the only thing that let Draco stay conscious.

Eventually, Snape approached them with something called a golem-a person-ish thing made from clay, enchanted to be alive. Creepy, but useful. After having it explained, Draco agreed to let them transfer the curse because, well, it was made of clay. It wouldn't feel the pain, he was assured. It wasn't enough, though, because he knew his father would just cast the curse again as soon as he realized what had happened. It was Harry who suggested building up a tolerance to it.

They began taking the curse off a bit more at a time, working in little increments, just a few minutes to begin with. Draco could have drown in that feeling, though. The sudden uncertainty, the anxiety, and feeling so exposed and vulnerable that even a slight scare might kill him. Usually, it felt like it was going to crush him but Harry just sat there with him. Even for the golden boy, it was uncharacteristic to be so nice to a Slytherin but Draco appreciated it more than words could say. Every time, without fail, Harry anchored him through it until the curse was put back on.

Draco got used to it, slowly. He wasn't able to resist it once put back on, but he was able to endure the panic. And then, slowly, they started practicing rebellion. At first it was just little things. Wearing his uniform slightly disheveled, even when every fiber of his being screamed at him to fix it-Malfoys never looked anything less than their best, he knew. He could do some things easily, like yelling or insulting Potter. It was almost impossible to let the brunet touch him, though, when the curse was on because his skin burned and his muscles twitched with pain at the mere thought. Slowly, he got better, though.

He began rebelling in more obvious ways while under the curse. Taking the spell off still managed to send him into a panic attack, which Harry was always present and ready for, but being under it was getting harder too. There was this little whisper, now, in the back of his mind. When instinct told him to do something, that little whisper questioned it-regardless of what it was. He questioned his father's programming, which was good, but he also questioned basic norms and expectations. Had Snape not known about he curse, Draco was sure he would have been hexed black and blue for daring to mouth off. That instinct, apparently, was his own.

It was a very long, very difficult process of sorting out which pieces were which. At first, his only instinct was to obey, no matter what kind of impulse it was, but he was getting better. It was hard, but he did it. A button left undone on his cloak slowly grew into doodling on his arm during classes. Even just meeting Harry's eye was a challenge. Through this process, it had become painfully clear that one of the main pillars of his father's commands revolved around Harry. No friendship, no positive feeling, no trust. Forcing his eyes to meet emerald while under the curse was one of the hardest rebellions he'd ever had to work through, but they did it.

Emphasis on they.

Harry had been the one-and only-steady constant in this entire shitshow. It was strange, to say the least, considering the hatred he'd harbored for the brunet for so many years but, while fighting the curse, it seemed like he was fighting that as well. And, when the curse was lifted, Harry was the only thing that kept him sane. The brunet understood panic attacks, he said, because he'd gotten them chronically since he was a kid. He never said why, but Draco didn't ask.

They spent a lot of time in the hospital wing together, shielded in one of the back examination rooms so there would be no school article about them. While Pomfrey had watched him like a hawk the first few times the curse was lifted, she became more lenient. She left them alone, often, trusting Harry to keep him calm. It was miraculous, but Harry did it.

The brunet's favorite way, by far, of calming Draco down and easing the panic was by playing with his hair. Draco loved it, too, which helped because it became a sort of trigger whenever he was panicking or slipping too deeply back into the curse. All Harry had to do was tangle a hand in his hair. They still struggled with the curse and with what their newfound friendship meant but Harry was quickly becoming his anchor in everything. He acted normal enough, but he found himself searching the great hall for those emerald eyes. It was like a routine, almost. A sort of rebellion all on it's own, especially when he knew his father would throw a fit if he knew.

Slow progress was still progress, as Harry kept telling him, but for Draco it was too slow. He grew bored of being patient. When he could let the golden boy touch him, while under the curse, without feeling any fear, Draco decided it was time for drastic measures. He talked to a few specific people and made his requests. They followed through. The next day, he strode into the great hall with his signature, platinum blonde hair dyed into streaks of blue and grey-his favorite colors.

Everyone gasped and stared at him, but he'd been expecting nothing less. The Malfoy locks were as recognizable as the name itself and he'd just basically destroyed his. Even Snape shot him a look, but he ignored it. The only person whose opinion even mattered to him now was Harry's, who still pretended that they weren't close at Draco's request. He'd wanted to hide their friendship. But, the hair gave him a kind of confidence that Draco had never experienced in his life so, rather than join a shell-shocked Blaise at the Slytherin table, he strode over to the Gryffindors.

He took the seat beside Harry without even asking. If any spies or teachers were going to write to Lucius about this, Draco was going to piss him off the right way. That, and having so many eyes on him made him want to shrink into the dark-haired boy's side.

"Oi Malfoy what the hell?" But Draco ignored the redhead. Hermione gave him a rather startled but welcoming little wave. Harry, though… Harry was clearly taken about at first, but the Gryffindor welcomed him with a smile and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Instantly, Draco could breathe a little easier. As the conversation resumed, Harry tangled his fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and slowly, gently, massaged the muscle there. He couldn't be sure if anyone else was looking, but the gesture was unmistakably possessive.

A strong, familiar warmth rushed over his body. He shivered, making Harry smile in his direction, but he was much more aware of the table of professors staring down at them. Dumbledore looked rather indifferent to the whole affair, though Draco could imagine he was interested, but most of the other professors had clearly been told about the curse. They were practically bursting with both shock and pride. Snape's eyes burned at the way Harry touched him, but Draco glared right back because this was the one thing he was sure of.

This was the one rebellion he never doubted.

Thanks for reading! Please please review and let me know where I should take this? I'm kind of lost at the moment.