A/N: This is yet another drabble gone awry. There were many signs that gave away the nature of Harry's and Draco's relationship, if they were read correctly… The fascinating characters of Harry Potter do not belong to me but to their esteemed creator.

The Signs

Theirs was a bizarre relationship that would never have worked, or so it seemed to Harry Potter's closest friends, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. They were different from other couples, all rough edges that seemed to clash every time they were together. Though Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had officially crossed the line of hate and wandered into the territory of love, both still sniped constantly at each other, rubbed each other the wrong way, bruising on the flesh marks of equal parts fighting and equal parts hormonal urges. Hermione and Ron knew that it would never work; that they would never work. They could predict it, foresee it.

The signs were there.

It was the way that Draco would stay silent where anyone else would have jumped in to defend Harry against accusations, falsehoods and twisted lies.

It was the way that Draco would look nonchalantly at Harry's injuries after he returned from a nasty skirmish or battle, dismissing them with a flick of his gaze no matter the severity.

It was the way that Draco would strike him where anyone else would have cradled him, never shielding him and sometimes adding to Harry's burden with his own harshly cynical perceptions.

It was the way that Draco would leave Harry's side where anyone else would have clamored around him, fought beside him, stood by him.

Indeed, the signs were there.

And, Harry knew.

It was the way that Draco simply understood.

The blond understood that Harry did not need someone to fight his verbal battles for him when he was insulted and hurt. It would have done Harry's confidence and self-esteem considerable damage if his opinions were shoved aside without a chance to be voiced, if his own words were overpowered by the fervent protestations of his defenders. Instead, Draco knew that what Harry needed was the reassurance that there was someone who would be his silent support, his shadow backing in any decision Harry chose to make.

Draco would always stay silent because it was Harry's choice to make, and it was Draco's role to simply support his partner.

The Slytherin understood that Harry needed no motherly fussing or childish coddling whenever he returned home from a battle injured. It was bad enough that he had been weakened by his enemies, that his defenses had been shattered at a pivotal moment, without the added burden of guilt brought on by the sympathetic care of his companions, without the added humiliation brought on by being treated like a three-year-old child with a bruised knee. Instead, Draco would always act nonchalant, efficient and caring but never overbearing, allowing Harry the freedom of treating his own wounds and taking care of himself. Harry needed that security that he was still strong enough to defend himself; that sometimes, it was not a lack of strength that had failed him, but simply Fate that was screwing him over. To have bandaged his wounds for him and cooed comfort in his ear would have been like adding salt to an open wound. To simply let him be until he was ready to accept and ask for help would have been like a soothing balm on an annoying burn.

Draco would always act nonchalant because Harry was a responsible adult who could take care of himself, and it was Draco's role to trust that Harry would act responsibly and ask for help when he needed it.

The Malfoy heir understood that Harry needed harsh knowledge and not blissful ignorance. Harry was certainly more realistically grounded than any air-headed dreamer, but he was still a lot more naively idealistic than the average witch or wizard, who spinelessly gave into despair with ease. Shielding him, protecting him, cocooning him and hoping to keep his innocence intact would only lead to further burdening him with restrictions born of his ignorance, weighing him down with the uncertainty of consequences, and dragging him down with rigid guidelines of good and bad, black and white. Instead, Draco would strike him with cruel wisdom, no matter how much pain it brought Harry. He would freely mock Harry for his reckless behavior, insinuating and filling Harry's mind with the brutal truth of consequences. He would encourage Harry to dabble in the Dark Arts, to embrace his beastly nature. And, in doing so, he would free Harry of the chains of uncertainties, leave Harry secure in the knowledge that the decisions the Gryffindor made would benefit them all because Harry had embraced every façade of his personality and was ready for the consequences that came no matter good or bad.

Draco would always strike Harry because Harry was a leader who needed the knowledge to take calculated risks, an independent and brave individual who found more freedom and relief in the pain of cruel wisdom than in the innocence of blissful ignorance.

The lone wolf of the Light understood that in times of his greatest turmoil, Harry needed to stand alone, needed to face the solitude and use it as a weapon without fearing it. The Boy-Who-Lived was a lone wolf, much like Draco himself, and he worked at his maximum potential when he was facing danger alone, when he was not distracted by other necessary duties, such as his need to protect his friends, his obligations to live up to their expectations. To stand by his side was to become a willing target, a bull's-eye that would be used to strike at Harry where he was weakest – his fear of loss. To stand before him, shielding him, was to become a double-edged sword that could just as easily be used to jeopardize him and kill him. To clamor around him would be to restrict his movements, to bind his wings, to serve him up on a silver platter complete with garnishing. Instead, Draco knew that Harry needed the solitude to fight, to focus his entire attention on a single goal. He needed someone, not to fight beside him, but to wait for him at the fringes of battle, to become that one lifeline of hope that he could grasp and return to. Harry needed to know that after the fighting there was a future that he could walk into, a future that would not vanish with the end of battle.

Draco would always leave Harry's side because he knew that if Harry saw him suffer, Harry would suffer twice as much; if Harry saw him die, the Boy Savior would give up even before he had even begun to fight. Harry did not need that distraction, and for that, Draco would disappear to his own duties, his own battles, leaving Harry without his pressuring presence, but in his absence, leave behind the hope of a future reunion.

The signs were there.

Draco Malfoy, the one Harry loved and trusted with his life, was the only one who understood that Harry needed silent support in his decisions; that the silent shadow of backing was extremely reassuring in times when Harry had to make seemingly impossible decisions. Draco always took care to never overstep the boundaries of Harry's independence, understanding that Harry needed the confidence in being able to take care of himself, especially after a defeat at an enemy's hands when it seemed that he had failed himself the most, and trusting Harry to make the first move if anything additional help was needed. Draco was never one to mince his words and opinions, something Harry had come to rely on in times when he knew that everyone was spewing to him honeyed lies, especially if that knowledge was something that Harry should not be spared no matter how harsh. And, it was Draco that Harry longed to return to after the war, the very person Harry trusted to take care of himself and never throw his life away in defense of the Boy-Who-Lived. Draco was his hope that he had a future beyond that of a weapon living on borrowed time, and it was the desire to be reunited with Draco that encouraged him to turn his fear of loneliness into a weapon that spurned him on.

Like Hermione and Ron, Harry could foresee it, predict it. He knew that superficially he and Draco might be the most bizarre couple with more fighting than cuddling, but he also knew that they were both honest with each other, and honest in their acceptance of each other's quirks and fears. Just as Harry knew the nuances of Draco's personality, Draco knew the many cracks and crevices of Harry's character. They understood each other in ways that nobody else understood them.

After all, the signs were there.