Hey guys!

I wrote this to take a bit of break from my other H/D story that I'm currently working on, "Brighter Than Sunshine". I was in a weird mood the other day and this idea came to me. What if Draco and Harry didn't have such a perfect fluffy relationship?

DELICATE

Harry ran down the hallway, turning left at the closest corridor, the torches lighting the way away ahead of him, the further down he got. Behind him the thudding of footsteps chased after him, heavy yet swift. His face was hot—he was flushed red with embarrassment and anger—the anger that had brought on the surge of adrenaline that gave him the energy to run as far away for as long as he had. He supposed it was useless, running away from the blond who would find him regardless, but he couldn't help what he had just seen. He barged through the doors opening up into the Quidditch pitch, the harsh winter wind sharp against his face. He made his way under the bleachers through piles of snow, pulling his cloak closer to him against the blistering cold.

Harry was worried when he walked into the Great Hall, glancing at the Slytherin table in search of Draco, only to find his usual spot empty. He hadn't seen the blond all day because of their different class schedules, and usually they would meet each other outside the Great Hall before and after dinner, but he had waited past the usual time without any Draco to show for it. He walked to the Slytherin table, sitting in Draco's empty spot next to Pansy.

"Hey, Pansy, have you seen Draco around?" He asked nervously, the thought of sitting at the Slytherin table still a little anxiety provoking with all the unwelcome looks he was receiving from students in his year and some lowerclassmen.

Blaise chimed in. "He's still in the dungeon, tutoring a bunch on fourth years. Apparently, they have some test tomorrow or something." Blaise looked uninterested as he spoke, smearing butter on a roll very deliberately.

"Okay, thanks guys. See you later, maybe."

Harry returned to the Gryffindor table, ignoring the wary looks from Hermione and Ron. They really needed to stay out of his business. Even if they had told him they accepted the relationship with Draco, the way they acted sometimes proved otherwise.

"So, where's Malfoy?" Ron asked with a mouth full of food.

"You mean Draco?" Harry replied cheekily.

"Yeah, whatever mate. Where's Draco?"

Harry rolled his eyes, reaching for the bowl of spaghetti. "Blaise told me he was tutoring in potions." Harry said slightly unsure. He caught Hermione raised eyebrow before she had time to hide her expression.

"He didn't tell you?"

He shrugged in response. "No," he said with finality before taking a forkful of spaghetti. He believed it for the most part. Even if tutoring sounded like something Draco would do, why didn't the Slytherin send him a note or at least let him know ahead of time that he wasn't going to be at dinner? Maybe it was an impromptu thing. Draco wasn't really a spontaneous person though, as Harry had come to find; he preferred to have a plan, he liked set dates, he liked to know what was on the schedule for the day. But it was still a possibility that it was just a spur of the moment thing…maybe? Harry was starting to doubt what Blaise had said. It was Hermione's fault, and now he couldn't enjoy his meal because all he could think about was where Draco possibly was.

Halfway through dinner, just as Harry had taken a bite of his treacle tart, a group of younger Slytherins he wasn't familiar with walked into the Great Hall looking tired, though talking excitedly amongst themselves…and Draco wasn't amongst them. He opted to leave dinner early, grabbing a plate of sandwiches and some fruit for Draco, not forgetting another piece of the treacle tart for the road. Without bothering to say bye to his friends, he took one final sip of his pumpkin juice and left the Great Hall, an air of purpose around him.

As Head Boy and past prefect, it seemed like there was always someone looking for Draco, wanting this or wanting that. They had barely had any real privacy in the past few days, not even during the weekend when they had tried to sneak off at Hogsmeade.

Harry smiled as he remembered very clearly the feeling of being pushed up against the hard bookshelves behind him with Draco's lean figure pressed into his, their hands all over each other's naked skin underneath their robes. Then Draco had rolled his hips against him, rubbing their clothed erections against each other, drawing a stifled groan from Harry's lips. Just then, a Slytherin from one of the younger years had interrupted them with a frantic look in his eyes, screaming about a duel that was about to happen down the street between two older students. What were the chances of that?

He came back to the present, almost humming as his mind filled with possibilities of what they could do with the time they had before dinner would be over. The plate was still warm in his hands and he hoped the sandwiches would be fine. They'd been going out for the better part of the school year, yet he still wasn't sure what Draco liked in terms of food. Whenever they were at Hogsmeade for lunch, he would always order soup or something equally light in sustenance. No wonder he was so thin.

Harry heard the steady beat of footsteps a short distance ahead of him, walking faster in hopes that maybe it was Draco finally heading to the Great Hall for dinner.

He turned the corner and froze in shock and hurt at the scene before him.

Draco had an arm around the waist of a younger brunet, their bodies pressed close in a half-embrace. The younger Slytherin had an arm around Draco's shoulder and stood on his toes to whisper into Draco's ear. The blonde blushed and turned to say something to the shorter brunet when the kid leaned in and kissed him on the lips.

It was the sound of something breaking against the hard stone of the ground that caused Draco to turn around, fear instantly clouding his eyes. "You stay here," he said sternly to the brunet. He took off after the running Gryffindor.

Harry heard the crunch of footsteps on the freshly fallen snow behind him. He turned and pointed his wand at the blond. "Don't, Draco."

Draco held his hand up as a sign of surrender, pausing where he stood. "Harry, I just want to explain, it's not what it looked like, I swear." His tone was pleading.

"There's nothing to explain, I know what I saw you asshole!" Harry screamed. "I can't believe I even let you get close to me! Ron was right. Hermione was right! Everyone was right about you! You don't care about anyone but yourself."

He made a move to get closer to Harry. "I care about you." The words were earnest and spoken with conviction, but Harry couldn't hear anything but the hushed whispers that were exchanged before the little punk had dared to lay a kiss on his boyfriend's lips. And Draco had just stood there, blushing like an idiot who wasn't already taken.

"Really now?" Harry spat. "And you show that how? By having your friends lie to me for you while you were off making out with who knows who in the halls? Is that how you show you care? Do you betray everyone you care about?" Harry poked him in the chest with his wand as he spoke.

"You don't understand, Harry. I know what it looked like, but you need to lis—"

"Listen to what? Tell me what I have to listen to!"

Draco was taken aback by Harry's harsh tones. He knew Harry tended to be emotional, but the only times he had ever been on this side of the Gryffindor's anger was during their earlier years of rivalry when he still acted like the perfect Slytherin and teased the Gryffindor and his friends mercilessly.

"Well?" Harry asked harshly.

"He said he wasn't feeling well, and I was helping him to the infirmary…he wanted to stop for a minute because he was dizzy, and that's when he kissed me. It's not like I kissed him. Why are you acting like this?" He reached out to grab Harry's hand, but grasped at empty air. He drew back. "Do you think that little of me?"

"Don't turn this around on me, Draco! If I didn't trust you we wouldn't be here right now!"

"Fine," Draco said placing his hands in his pockets as he turned and started to walk away. "If you're not going to believe anything I say. This is just a waste of my time. I thought we were better than this."

Harry ran after him, grabbing his shoulder to turn him around. "So you're just going to walk away? You fucking coward!" He yelled in his face, pushing him into the cold snow.

Draco stared silently with an unreadable expression as Harry breathed heavily above him. He stood from the ground, brushing the snow off his cloak before striding away in the graceful manner that only a Malfoy knew how.

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Ron and Hermoine were working on homework in front of the fireplace when Harry walked into the common room. They both glanced briefly to see who had entered to room, returning to their work, only to turn around seconds later, identical expressions of worry on their faces.

"Hey, back so soon?" Hermoine spoke first.

"Yeah, everything okay, mate?"

Harry ran a hand through his disheveled hair, avoiding eye contact with his best friends. "Um, yeah, I'm just going to call it a day, guys. 'Night."

"'Night, Harry," they said simultaneously.

The second the door closed, Ron's face was red and he whispered loudly, "I told you, Hermione! Malfoy's nothing but bad news and now Harry's all weird and lying to us, his best mates!"

"Ron, relax, I'm sure there's a good explanation for whatever happened."

"There better be. Otherwise I'll jinx him into –"

"Otherwise what, Ronald?"

"Nothing."

Hermione packed up her books, muttering to herself about clueless boys and their mindless actions as she made her way to the girls dorm, leaving a silently plotting Ron in the common room.

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Harry collapsed face down on his bed and screamed into his pillow. He wished he had just stayed in the Great Hall. He was too enthusiastic about seeing Draco and had ended up seeing that instead. He groaned in frustration, beating his fist against the bed. He had never been suspicious of Draco before but now he couldn't get that image out of his mind. He tried to hear out what Draco had to say, but his insecurities only made him doubt the boy, and he continued to see only the worst in the situation. Even if Draco hadn't kissed him back, he had let the boy kiss him nonetheless. Even if he hadn't been the one to kiss him, he had stood there with his arms wrapped around him as the boy kissed him. And then he blushed like he was interested in the annoying little thing.

He hurriedly brushed his teeth, tossing his clothes into the corner of the bathroom for the house elves to pick up later. He stood under the hot spray of the shower to ease the tension all over his body and changed into his pajamas, falling back into the bed just as carelessly as he had earlier. Grabbing his pillow tightly, he curled up on his side, telling himself he wouldn't cry no matter what. But as his mind drifted off to sleep, he couldn't help thinking that maybe he could have handled it better, maybe he blew things out of proportion, maybe he had overreacted. And now Draco wasn't talking to him anymore. Hot tears stung his eyes but he blinked them away, determined not to let them fall.

The next morning was just like any other for Harry. He woke up, changed his clothes, brushed his teeth and ran a hand through his hair. The only difference between today and any other day was in his mood. He was quiet and subdued—distant from his friends and dorm mates—and the change in attitude was apparent to those who knew him even just a little bit.

As they gathered in the common room to head out for breakfast, Ron finally spoke up. He was already tired of Harry's "I'm okay" game, and he wasn't willing to play along this time, especially if it had anything to do with Malfoy.

"Harry, you okay, Mate?"

"M'fine Ron, tired is all," Harry droned in response.

"Harry, if Malfoy—"

"Draco," he interrupted.

"If Draco did anything to you, then Hermione and I want to know so we can help you. Harry, we're your best mates, and we're worried about you."

"Ron, I told you Draco didn't do anything. Now drop it, I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Ron was stunned to his spot as Harry strode ahead of him, a negative air of energy around him. Obviously he wasn't fine, but he would talk when he was ready—if he was ever ready. There were so many occasions when Harry had tried to keep a problem to himself for so long that Ron and Hermione had to force it out of him because they had started to worry about what it would do with his magic and mental state if his emotions got out of hand.

Harry barely ate anything at breakfast, too upset to taste the food. He drank some pumpkin juice and ate just enough toast to stop the grumbling in his stomach. Although he had called Draco the coward just the night before, he realized that he was the one being cowardly, too afraid to even glance over at the blond sitting at the Slytherin table, too ashamed over how he had acted yesterday. Draco didn't deserve that. He had never done anything for Harry not to trust his commitment to their relationship.

Draco wasn't any better than Harry but had managed to pull himself together and look a lot more presentable and more like his self than Harry could even attempt. His silver blond hair fell gracefully around his face like it usually did, his posture in his seat was tall and sure like it usually was, and his mannerisms weren't any less perfect than they usually were. The only thing that would give him away was the occasional flicker of emotion in his eyes that only his close friends sitting around him at the table could see.

After their argument under the bleachers in the Quidditch Pitch the night before, Draco had headed towards the Slytherin dorms, ready to give the thoughtless, conniving boy a piece of his mind. Sure he was flattered at the thought that he didn't seem entirely unapproachable, but the boy had went about it in the wrong way, putting his relationship with Harry in jeopardy.

As is turns out, the boy hadn't moved much from the spot where Draco had left him. During the time that they were gone, he had vanished the broken plate and food, pacing the hall with a look of fear and remorse on his face. He had his arms crossed, embracing himself tightly as he stared down at the floor while he paced.

When he heard the sounds of footsteps, he looked up into the hard, stoic face of Draco Malfoy.

He strode towards him with sorry eyes, "I'm sorry, it was a dare, I didn't mean for that to happen!...is he okay?" he asked hesitantly.

"How he is, is none of your concern," the older Slytherin replied coolly. He sighed quietly before squeezing the bridge of his nose between his index fingers and thumb; his headache potion from earlier was starting to wear off. "Look, I don't know why your friends would dare you to kiss someone who is obviously involved in a relationship, but you should have had known better than to do something so insensible."

The small brunet looked down in shame. "I know."

"It's best if you think before acting and meddling where you shouldn't be." He paused. "If you make it down to the Great Hall in time, you might still be able to grab something."

"Oh! Okay. Um, thank you," the kid said before scurrying away. He had expected worse than that.

Draco ran a hand through his hair, grabbing at it in frustration. He was really tempted to slam a fist into the wall, but instead kicked it with all he had, knowing that at least he would only be going to sleep with bruises on his toes and not a broken hand.

After finishing his plate, Draco sipped on a cup on a small cup of tea before heading out of the Great Hall. Harry noticed his movement and gathered up his courage; even though he hated apologizing just as much as the next person, it was all there was left for him to do. The worst part was that he had made Draco seem like the bad guy when he was just the victim of what was probably some little kid's prank. Some little kid that no right putting his hands on someone else's boyfriend, not to talk about his lips! Harry gulped down the rest of his juice, grabbing his bag as he followed a few paces behind the blond Slytherin. Hopefully, Draco would accept his apology.

The young Slytherin from the night before watched quietly as Draco then Harry walked out of the Great Hall, realizing his chance to explain himself to the Gryffindor. He hadn't meant for things to turn out this way. He didn't want to be the one that broke them up. With a quick nod to his friends he tossed his bag over his shoulder and hurried out of the Great Hall to meet up with Harry before breakfast let out.

He ran out of the Great Hall and took a turn at the corner, bumping into the last person that he wanted to anger.

"YOU!" Harry dropped his bag to the floor and stared at the younger kid intensely. "What the hell did you think you were doing?" So, he had a slight temper problem. It wouldn't be a problem if people weren't doing thing to upset him in the first place.

"N-nothing. I wanted to explain." The kid said slightly cowering.

"Alright then, explain yourself." Harry crossed his arms over his chest and stood, waiting for the kid to spill the beans. Draco wouldn't dare to lie to him about something like this; and for the kid's sake he hoped the stories lined up, because he was in a crappy mood and really didn't want to get any more detentions with Filch for using magic in the halls.

"O-okay. Um, I…I've had a crush on D-draco f-for a while and yesterday after we were getting some help in p-potions, one of m-my friends dared me to k-kiss him," the Slytherin blushed profusely when he mentioned the kiss, and Harry simply raised an eyebrow, a gesture he had picked up from too much time spent with Draco.

"Um, I, uh, acted like I was f-feeling ill, and my friends left, c-claiming they had something to do so he would have to help m-me to the infirmary…" He stuttered through his explanation while Harry stood in front of him, tall and intimidating. "So, he had nothing to do with it…" He looked up to meet Harry's dark green eyes.

"What's your name? What year are you in?" Curious as to what age this kid was to have done something so stupid.

"Claude. I'm in year four."

Some stupid little fourth year playing around with seventh years—he didn't have a chance even if he wanted to get with Draco. The little kid looked scared enough as it was, like Harry was about to jinx him into next week or something.

"Look kid—Claude—I'm not going to hurt you, okay?" he said holding out his hands to show they were free of his wand, "just don't do it again." Harry picked up his bag and continued towards the direction of the Slytherin dorms, hoping he still had enough time to talk with Draco before classes started.

He caught up to Draco just as the boy was making his way out of the dorms with his bag on his shoulder, a serious expression on his face.

"Draco." He stopped in front of the Slytherin.

The Slytherin wanted to sigh at the desperation in his voice. "What is it Harry?"

"Can we talk?" Harry said, searching Draco's eyes for emotion...hope?

"We don't have time to talk." He stepped aside, intent on getting past.

Draco moved to continue down the hall, adjusting his bag on his shoulder as he did so. If Harry really wanted to talk, maybe he should have thought about it yesterday before jumping to conclusions, barely giving him the chance to explain what he thought he had seen. He knew they needed to talk, but he didn't want to talk. He wasn't ready to forgive Harry for doubting his loyalty, for doubting his commitment to their relationship; he wanted to harbor the hurt and anger for just a little longer, to memorize what it felt like to be mistrusted by someone you devoted yourself to. Even if he wanted to forgive him, he wasn't sure he could do it so soon.

Harry went after him grabbing his free hand. "Draco! Please, I'm sorry I overreacted."

He turned around with a raised eyebrow, his hurt clear on his face, sarcasm lacing his voice. "Really, I didn't consider that for a second."

"Draco, I'm apologizing to you. I said I was sorry."

"It doesn't matter, Harry. It's not that simple." He pulled his hand out of Harry's grasp and continued on his way, a distraught Harry merely watching as he walked away.

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Harry's day seemed to go downhill from there. He couldn't do anything right—not even a simple transfiguration spell. Potions was never his best subject, but just like with his other classes, whatever could go wrong did, making his horrible mood go from bad to worse. Hermione watched from a distance, hesitant to approach him after hearing Ron's tale of what had happened earlier that day before breakfast. It was obvious that everything wasn't fine as he continued to say. He was hurting, but he refused to tell them why. He claimed that Draco hadn't done anything, but then why was he acting that way. Had they broken up? Was it a mutual decision?

By the time free period rolled around, Harry was excited as he headed to the Room of Requirements for a nap. He would usually head back to Gryffindor Tower and relax in the common room for a while, but he had seen the looks everyone was giving him today. They knew not to approach him in class or in the Great Hall, but behind the privacy of the Fat Lady's Portrait, he could just imagine someone sitting next to him, asking him if he was okay, as if it wasn't obvious that he didn't want any company.

He walked past the room three times, imagining a cozy room with a large bed and a blazing fireplace. The entrance appeared in front of him and he hurriedly made his way into the room, jumping onto the large bed that was pushed against the north wall. The fireplace was to the side of the bed, roaring and crackling just as he had pictured it, and for the first time that day, he was content with the way something turned out.

He dumped his bag onto the floor, kicking off his shoes and snuggling under the covers, the feeling of being comfortable causing him to sigh contently into the mattress before he dozed off.

Draco's hands were all over his body. Kneading, pressing, pinching, caressing. He was hot and horny and the blond above him was teasing him mercilessly, purposely avoiding him in the one place that he wanted to be touched the most. His member lay tall and erect on his flat abdomen, pink and pulsing with desire. An endless stream of pre-cum leaked from the tip and he wanted so desperately to just reach down and bring himself to completion, but the green and silver tie binding his hands to the head of the bed stopped him from doing anything but arching his back up and trying to grind his hips into the warm body above him.

Draco pushed Harry's hips back to the bed with a warning. "Hey, don't make me tie your feet up too."

Harry moaned at the image of Draco having his wicked way with his body, his arousal increasing to intense levels. He could feel everything—the blood rushing through his body, the heat of Draco's skin barely touching his, the warmth of his breath ghosting over his skin—and to top it all, he was so close, he felt like he would come when Draco finally touched him.

"Draco," he whispered wantonly.

"Shhhh…" The blond leaned down; pressing his lower body flush against Harry's and kissed him deeply, the brunet moaning into his mouth at the satisfaction of finally being granted some skin to skin contact.

Draco ground his hips into Harry's, watching as his eyes closed in pleasure and his kiss bruised lips opened, quiet pants escaping the moist cavern.

He lifted himself, kissing down Harry's body—his pants getting harsher as Draco moved lower and lower—as he played with his nipples. Harry watched with dark eyes as Draco kissed his belly button, biting his hip bones before finally engulfing his erection his mouth.

His back arched off the bed as he screamed into the air.

Harry shot up in the bed, his body damp with sweat with an unmistakable hard on between his legs. He groaned as he ran a finger through his hair, falling back against the bed with a thump. Wondering how long he's been asleep for—it felt like a really short while, he cast a tempus, staring at the given time for a few seconds before realizing with a start that he had slept through most of Charms.

"Fuck!" He jumped out of the bed, adjusted his robes, and made his way to the closest bathroom, where he washed his face with a cold splash of water before heading to Gryffindor tower.

There was no use going to class now. He'd already missed most of it and would only lose his House more points if he even bothered to show up late. He glumly made his way to the dorms, sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace before deciding to jump in the shower. And maybe take care of his little problem that hadn't quite gone down.

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When he sat down at the Gryffindor table for dinner, Hermione poked her nose out of her latest reading, her eyebrows drawn together in suspicion. She leaned across the table, whispering harshly.

"Harry, where have you been? You missed charms!"

"I wasn't feeling well, Hermione, lay off it," he grumbled out.

"Harry, this isn't the time to be slacking off. I don't know what going on between you and Draco, but you shouldn't—"

"Hermione, stay out of it. I told you I wasn't feeling well!"

She turned down the harsh tones of her voice, her concern growing, "Are you ill?"

"I'll be fine." He then proceeded to ignore her attempts at conversation throughout the rest of dinner, occasionally glancing at the Slytherin table though all he could see was the back of Draco's head. At least he was present today. Hermione caught his quick glance towards the Slytherin table. She would figure it out soon enough.

After dinner, Hermione headed to the Owlery, intent on setting the issue straight of what happened between Draco and Harry. As one of Harry's best friends, she knew that something was eating at him, and this seemed like one of those times where they wouldn't be able to talk it out of him. So she would go to the next best person to find out what had happened—Malfoy himself.

She couldn't say they were really close, but they tolerated each other, and their shared care for Harry, was enough to make them try for his sake. They respected each other, and she didn't feel like what she was about to do was wrong. The way she saw it, if harry wasn't going to tell her what the matter was, then she would take the initiative to find out herself. He needed help, whether he would admit it or not, and she wouldn't let this drag on any longer than the one day she had already seen him suffer through. Malfoy would understand.

She scribbled a quick note, handing it to one of the school owls before sending it on his way. Now all she had to do was to wait in the library for a few minutes for Malfoy to show up.

As she made her way to the library, she tried to think up possible scenarios of what had happened last night. Harry had come down to dinner, expecting to see Malfoy afterwards, but he wasn't there. Then he had asked Draco's Slytherin's friends, who admitted that he was tutoring some younger years in the dungeons. Harry had sounded on the defensive when she questioned it, almost like he didn't believe it himself. And then he had left with a plate of food—most likely for Draco—returning to the Tower a short while later, anger and hurt pouring off him. Was it possible that Draco hadn't really been tutoring? Had he been cheating on Harry?

Hermione pushed aside the horrible thoughts, planning on going into the conversation with an open mind and zero accusations.

She found a table in a typically deserted part of the library, sitting quietly as her mind trailed off to how she would start the Charms essay they had been assigned for homework that night.

"Granger," she was pulled out of her reverie by Malfoy's voice. "This better be good," he said, sitting himself in the chair across from her.

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"I'm going to the library," he called out to Ron from where he stood by the door.

"What for, mate?"

"Does it really matter? I have to get notes because I missed Charms."

Ron shuffled through the papers on his bed, looking for his Charms notebook where he had scribbled some notes in class for the essay. "You can use mine," he said holding them towards Harry's direction.

"I just need to get a book, Ron. Thanks anyway." Harry left the room, slamming the door behind him. There was no way he would use Ron's notes. No offense, but his notes were the worst—his handwriting was awful, and what words that were legible were spelt wrong or didn't make any sense at all. He would be amazed the day that Ron wrote a whole essay off his own notes and got an Excellent on it.

He made his way through the common room with his hands shoved inside his pockets, ignoring the looks he was receiving from the occupants scattered around the room. Geez, word sure did travel fast. It was like everyone already knew he and Draco had had a falling out.

As he headed towards the 'C' bookshelves where he would find the book he needed, he heard the hushed sounds of someone talking at the back corner of the library. Without a second thought, he tiptoed towards the sound of the voices, curious as to who had chosen such a deserted corner of the large room to study, or talk about…dark matters?

He slid along the sides of the nearest bookshelf, not wanting to create any shadows on the floor around him. As he got closer, the voices were clearer and familiar—Hermione and Draco? He peeked around the bookshelf, a quiet gasp escaping his lips before he pressed himself back against the bookshelf, accidentally knocking a book onto the floor with his elbow.

"Who's there?" Draco's voice.

Harry cursed under his breath. This was not going to be good. He sighed, holding his breath before revealing himself. His eyes skimmed over Draco's tense frame, before they settled on Hermione's worried gaze. "Hey, 'Mione," he said nervously.

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Draco sat quietly across from Hermione, his hands clasped on the table in front of him. "So?"

She dived right into the conversation. "What going on between you and Harry?"

"We're dating, obviously." He said, crossing his wiry arms over his chest.

"I know you guys had a row."

"And so? It's none of your concern, Granger. If you've got nothing else to day, I believe we're done here."

"No!" Hermione wanted to reach across the table to assure that he would stay and hear her through, but his hands were out of her reach. He looked impatient and like he had better things to do that sit there talking to her about the latest developments in his relationship with Harry. So she did the only thing she could think of at the moment, she pulled out the Insecure Harry Card. "Draco, Harry's hurting and he's not letting anyone in. I don't know what you two fought about and I don't know why, but I was hoping you would tell me a little bit so I would know what to say to him to make things better."

"And our relationship concerns you how?"

She should have known it wouldn't be that easy. "Harry was my friend before you, Draco. I care about him just as much if not more than you do," she said sitting back in her seat to mirror his image.

He mulled over the thought for a moment before admitting to himself that she deserved to know at least a little bit about what was going on with her best friend. "Something trivial happened, he got upset and I realized that he doesn't trust me. We've barely talked since then," he said simply.

"Oh." She wasn't too far off, in general. "Draco, for as long as I've known him, Harry's always had trust issues, so I wouldn't take that too personally. I brought it up once and he wouldn't admit it. He tries to deny it, but he knows it's true."

"Why would he have trust issues?"

"I'm not really sure if it's my place to tell. Its better you ask him yourself."

From a few feet away, they were startled by the thud of a book dropping to the ground in the usually quiet library.

"Who's there?"

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"I'll let you guys talk." Hermione said glancing between the two boys.

"Um…" Harry shuffled his feet, Draco's silence and his own surfacing emotions over whelming him.

Draco patted the seat of the chair next to him, a silent request for Harry to sit.

Harry took the offered seat, silent, as his mind piled with all the possible scenarios that could play out within the next few minutes. In one of them, he and Draco ended up shagging with him bent over the desk and Draco taking him from behind. In another, he saw Draco walking out of the room, fists clenched while he sat dejectedly at the table with tears streaming down his face. He pictured a more adorable version of himself in Draco's lap, arms around each other as they gazed into the other's eyes. And then he saw an angry Draco slapping him before storming angrily out of the room. Since Draco was sitting at the same table with him willing to talk, and considering their personalities and the events that had led them to this moment, he seriously doubted that any of the scenarios his mind had dreamt up were possible, but that was the way of these things when you were as strung out as he was.

Draco broke the silence. "Is it true, what she said?"

"I suppose…"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I suppose it's true," he admitted, glancing up at the blond before looking down at his hands. "It's hard for me to trust anyone. It's not like I don't know you're a trustworthy in general, and I know Ron and Hermione are trustworthy too, but sometimes there's this other voice in my head that questions everything and everyone and I can't turn it off."

He folded his arms on the table in front of him, resting his head in the crook of his elbow as he turned to face Draco as he continued quietly. "It's scary sometimes because I always doubt myself and I always doubt people about meaningless things, but it's not something that I can help. It just happens..."

"Has it always been this way?"

"For as long as I can remember." He sat up with alarm. "It's not that I don't trust you! I do…I think. I just—I don't know."

Draco reached across the table, grasping Harry's sweaty hand in his. "It's alright Harry, I think I understand."

"You do?"

Draco leaned back in his chair, balancing on it's back legs. He pondered over it for a short while, keeping the Gryffindor in suspense. "Yes, it explains a lot," he finally replied, settling back on the front legs of the chair.

"What's that supposed the mean?" Harry asked with an insulted whine.

"It means exactly what I said."

It was quiet between them. Draco was proud about how quickly they had moved to resolve the issue between them, though he wished it had never happened in the first place. He knew it wasn't all over. The bump in the road had shaken their relationship, showing them where there were cracks and faults in the foundation. Though he loved the time he spent with Harry both during his good and bad moods, he hated when Harry let his emotions get the best of him. It was almost like he was a completely different person—this other personality underneath the caring and friendly character that he was. His emotions would get a hold of him, and nothing else would matter in the moment until someone made him see sense of the situation.

Harry twiddled his thumbs in his lap. "You know, that fourth year fancies you."

"Obviously. That's what he told me before he…kissed me."

Harry huffed at the way Draco mentioned the kiss, like it was a highly delicate topic. "I'm not going to have a fit if you say it, you know. He kissed you. I'm over it," he said crossing his hand over his chest.

"Are you sure about that?" Draco asked with a smirk. "I'm sensing a bit of jealousy, Harry."

"I'm not jealous!" Harry said, his voice and posture, a picture of enthusiasm, before he relaxed back into his seat. "Anyways, he said it was a dare."

"Yeah, he explained it all to me afterwards."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Draco said standing from his seat. He straightened his robes, reaching a hand out towards Harry. "C'mon, let's go to the kitchens, I barely had anything at dinner."

"I still have to grab a book for my Charms essay!"

"Don't worry about it." He grabbed Harry's hand, pulling him from his chair and flush against himself, his hand settling on his lower back.

Thanks for reading!

ScarlettLilly