To all the readers: I'm so sorry that this has taken, what, about nine months, to be updated. It wasn't that I lost interest, it was just that real life got in the way. I'm not going to describe in detail what these things are, but if I had been able I would've updated sooner.

I hope that you continue to read, and I will continue to write. This has been my most successful fiction ever and I'd hate to let it just die away. I was suffering from some serious writer's block as well. If the tone, style and story seem to have changed, I hope you'll understand that it's because after nine months, people change as well.

This is an unrevised copy. It was written in stream of consciousness with no notes and no plan written for the chapter because I wanted to upload it as quickly as possible. It has been double-checked for errors, but not revised and rewritten.

Please enjoy, and accept my most sincere apologies.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. I don't claim to own any of them, I'm just borrowing them for awhile.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

Harry trailed behind Draco, not able to force himself to look up and see the boy in front of him. He didn't know what had just happened, back in their room. Harry was sure it was another, new, side effect of the Sansus Pyro potion. But what in the world would cause the potion to make him feel this way? Having Draco near was supposed to reverse the effects of the potion he had taken. To extinguish the 'inner flame' he felt in his chest. Not cause new side effects.

Harry was dazed and confused. When he got that close to Malfoy his thoughts just seemed to stop. He was drawn in by an impulse. He just had to get closer to him. Harry felt that, had Draco not pulled away, well, he didn't want to think what he would've done to him. His face grew hot with the idea. Why though? And then when Draco had pulled away he looked as confused and flushed as he did. He had also looked hurt.

They had been in the room together for only two days and yet the dynamic had changed so quickly, so dramatically it made Harry's head spin.

He wanted to walk beside Draco. To talk to him, to try and understand, explain, something. Anything. But what to say? He couldn't bring himself to look him in the face. He felt ashamed and embarrassed for the way he had acted. But hadn't Malfoy acted the same? He could've pulled away sooner too. The potion must've been causing some kind of reaction in Draco too. It was his Fire Salamander, after all.

But on the other hand, Draco was hurt. His wrist broken (yet again), or so Harry guessed. Maybe he was just dazed by the pain and hadn't realized what was happening.

Lost in his thoughts and without realizing it, Harry found himself at the door to the infirmary. He looked at Draco and saw him shake himself, draw himself up to his full height and regain his aristocratic stance. It was just that easy for Malfoy to do.

For some reason, that stiff posture and those hardened eyes made Harry feel small. And injured. Like he had been personally attacked.

Nonetheless, hurt feelings or no, Harry entered the hospital wing.

Looking around he saw that the room was empty. Goldstien must have been fixed up, then. Harry began to wonder where Madam Pomfrey was, but as the door to the hospital wing creaked shut the Matron bustled over to see who had entered, alerted by the noise.

"Hello there, Dears. What seems to be the problem?" Madam Pomfrey began automatically. Then she realized whom she was addressing.

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, what seems to be the problem this time?" she asked, a glint in her eye and a rather steely quality in her voice.

"My wrist, Madam Pomfrey, has yet again been broken," Draco said, sounding rather haughty. "I can't help but wonder that if it had been fixed properly to begin with, this wouldn't have happened."

Madam Pomfrey bristled and Harry slapped a hand to his forehead. Wanting to appease Draco and the Matron, Harry raised his hand in an offering of peace and said, kindly, "It was my fault Madam Pomfrey. He tripped over me and fell on it. It wasn't his, or your fault, so," he said, looking pointedly at Draco (and feeling his chest burn slightly and his head get light) "there isn't any need for anyone to be upset, or blamed."

Draco 'humphed' and Madam Pomfrey looked relatively soothed at Harry's words.

She shuffled Draco toward a bed to sit down, thick skirts ruffling, and said to him, "wait here, Dear. I'll just be off to get my wand and we can have it fixed up, again, in no time."

Draco sat on the bed and visibly slumped. His proud airs leaving as he held onto his hurt, abused wrist.

Harry sat on a chair next to the bed and appraised the Blonde's change in posture. Why was it that he always felt the need to keep up the façade around others? And why was it that he no longer felt he had to keep them around Harry? He felt he ought to examine this more thoroughly but decided he was far too drained. Emotionally and physically. He didn't want to think or worry about anything right now. But as Harry knew only too well, your thoughts come think and heavy when you least want them.

The painful grip he felt in his chest when Draco was away was gone, but he felt something else in its place. It burned and made him feel sullen and hollow. The sooner Dumbledore, Snape and Madam Pomfrey figured this out the better off Harry would be. And Draco as well, undoubtedly.

Lost in his all-consuming thoughts, Harry didn't even register that Madam Pomfrey had returned until he was hit in the knee with one of her ruffled skirts.

"Alright Draco. We'll have this fixed up in a moment. It may twinge a bit, but, you knew that since it was only just yesterday you had it fixed, correct?" She eyed him, but Harry could see something like motherly affection underneath the stern glance. He guessed that you would have to be a bit motherly to take care of hundreds of students in a school.

She picked up the delicate wrist, touched her wand to it gently and said, "Bracchium Redintegro." Harry saw Draco grimace slightly, but the look of pain faded quickly and Draco flexed and rolled his wrist without looking pained.

"There we are, Dear. Good as knew. But let me just give you a Bone Strengthening Solution to make it less susceptible to more breaks, eh?"

She bustled away again to look into a large cabinet for the right potion. Harry turned his attention from the Matron on to Draco.

"How does it feel, Draco? Do you think you'll be okay?" Harry asked his question softly, still afraid to look Draco in the eye, for fear of what he might see there.

"I suppose it will be. One can't break one's wrist twice in the same number of days without some repercussions, no?" Harry felt that Draco's tone was rather cold and distant and he recoiled slightly.

Harry opened his mouth to reply when the Nurse Witch returned once again to give Draco a bottle that contained the Bone Strengthening Solution.

"Take a mouthful now, and another one before you go to bed and when you wake up. It should help prevent this from happening again. As much as I enjoy seeing you Mr. Malfoy, it shouldn't be under such terrible circumstances." She smiled. "You're free to leave now, you as well, Mr. Potter, unless you needed something too?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm fine, thanks. I just came, well, because- you know…"

"Of course I do, Dear. Good evening."

With that, she nodded and walked back into her office, shutting the door behind her quietly.

Draco downed some of the potion and shuddered. Harry had once taken a draught of Skele-Grow and he imagined it must taste something alike. He could understand why the taste offended Draco so.

"Well," said Draco, breaking Harry out of his musings, "shall we go back then?" He still had a cold note in his voice when he spoke.

Harry still couldn't help but feel hurt at this. It was like a personal attack. Only a few short days ago Harry would be passive to any mark of cutting in Draco's tone. Now it sliced him like a knife. How he wished it would be like that again. He hated this. He hated the way he felt around the Slytherin. He hated the way he felt when he wasn't near him. It was a lose-lose situation for Harry.

The scathing remark hurt more, Harry figured, because he was becoming used to the lack of hostility Draco had for him. It wasn't easy like his friendship with Ron and Hermione but the sting wasn't there at least.

Now it was back. Harry hated that sting too.

Draco waved a hand in from of Harry's eyes and Harry started. "Oh, yeah, alright, let's go."

As they left the hospital wing Draco, once again, walked ahead of Harry. Not enough for the twinge of pain to return, but enough to get his point across. He needed to talk to Draco. Why had that moment back in their room affected Draco as much as Harry? Well, of course it affected him, Harry reasoned. But why in the same sort of way? Was the potion affecting Draco too?

Harry continued in this vein, ignoring the school around him, and almost bumping into several students, probably on their way back from supper. He didn't notice the pointed looks. The sly glances at he and Draco. The knowing smirks. He didn't notice any of it, too lost in his thoughts. If he had noticed he may have been wondering about the whispering and caught a bit of the new rumor floating around the school since late that afternoon.

When he finally reached the room he and Draco shared, the doors were already open and Draco was sitting by the fire, staring blankly at the flames.

The atmosphere was tense. Harry didn't want it to stay that way. If he was going to have to stay here he was going to at least make it livable.

He pushed the doors shut behind him and crossed the room quickly to sit in his plush chair. The familiarity ('familiarity… I've only been here for two days…' he thought) was welcoming and he felt mildly comforted.

Draco made no sign to show that he had noticed Harry sitting there.

Harry opened his mouth tentatively to speak and then shut it again. What should he say? He didn't even understand what was happening. How can you begin to compensate for something when you don't even know what you've done?

He sat quietly for a moment, writing, 'H-A-R-R-Y' on the fabric of the arm of his chair and sighed quietly.

Feeling that it was best to get it over with, rather than dwell on the consuming feelings, he spoke softly, "Draco… I'm sorry. I don't know exactly what-"

Draco raised a hand and cut off Harry, still staring blankly at the fire. "Listen, Potter. I- well. Let's just not talk about it okay? It isn't a big deal; it's just the potion, right? No need to get worked up about something like that."

Harry let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding in and felt somewhat relaxed. "Great, I was hoping that it wouldn't be weird… or something. It's just this bloody potion, it's playing with our heads, but the Professors will find a cure soon enough."

"Right, of course…" Draco trailed off; he didn't sound entirely convinced.

Harry stood up and moved toward Draco, who recoiled slightly. Not deterred, Harry put a kind hand on his shoulder and said lightly, "Don't worry. I don't know why, but this potion is affecting you almost as much as me, isn't it? We'll get it fixed soon enough."

Harry felt Draco lean into his touch slightly, but pulled away almost as quickly as Harry felt it.

"Right, well, I'm going to rest for awhile, Harry. Just get me when dinner arrives, okay?"

Draco stood quickly and walked to his bed, avoiding looking at Harry, where he dumped himself rather heavily and ungracefully onto the sheets.

Harry felt a strong urge to go over and talk to him, to convince him everything would be okay. To hold him gently and rock away whatever it was that was troubling him so deeply. He knew how the potion made him feel, but what could it be making Draco feel to make him seem to out of himself.

He shook the thoughts away as promptly as they entered his head. They were almost incoherent, those thoughts. As if they weren't being placed there by him. It was the potion.

He shrugged it off and crossed to his bed, picking up the little black book Draco had given to him. 'Well,' he thought, 'if I'm to win this bet with Draco I may as well start now.'

And with one last fleeting look at the dark form lying opposite him, he opened the book and began to read.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

Well, there's part eleven. I hope you enjoyed. I hoped to make this chapter longer but my tendinitis is acting up and I can't type for very long, and since I wanted to get this chapter up tonight, I cut it off here.

I'll create more interactions between Harry and Draco in the next chapter, but I think it needed a touch of seriousness.

Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed. Given me compliments, criticism, advice, etc. I've taken it all to heart and it has made me a better writer through and through, I believe.