A/N: I dedicate this to Hufflehamda Thank you for liking this story:)

#

Draco woke up the next morning through a burning pain on his forearm. The shock combined with the fear made him sit up with a shout. "Argh!"

Then, he noticed Ron staring at him with a sleepy haze and Potter sitting next to Draco, looking down at where the blonde was clutching his forearm. Quickly, Draco let go and pulled down his sleeve.

He looked over at Potter whose gaze was burning with rage. Draco looked up at Ron, who was back to snoring loudly. Draco grabbed Potter's sleeve, pulling him up and out of the room before he could start yelling at Draco in front of the Weasley. For some reason, tense as he was, Potter followed him down the stairs.

Throwing on warm robes and slipping in some shoes, Draco and Potter stepped out of the house. The fresh snow was glittering in the morning sun. The sky was still coloured rose and orange like it wanted to give Draco hope for the upcoming day.

Draco went up to the far end of the garden and turned to Potter, whose enraged eyes had never left him. Draco did not say anything. He waited for Potter to say what he was dying to say. "I knew it!" Potter finally exclaimed, getting closer to Draco with a threatening step. "You're a Death Eater."

Draco let out a heavy breath. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Potter asked in disbelief. Then he yelled, "You're sorry? I was starting to trust you!"

Draco gulped. So Potter did not trust him anymore because of this damn tattoo. "That's why I didn't tell you."

"What?" Potter shouted, stepping closer to Draco. "You're a fucking Death Eater, Malfoy. You have to have nefarious intentions. What's your plan, Malfoy? Wanna kill me? Bring me to Voldemort when I'm weak and trusting you? Imperio me?"

"Potter!" Draco put his hands on Potter's shoulders and pushed him into a reasonable distance but did not let go. "Listen, I'm not gonna do anything to you or anyone in the house. I don't care about the Dark Lord. I don't care that he's after you. I just wanted to get away."

"And you think I'm gonna believe you?" Potter glared, shaking Draco's hands off his shoulders.

"I can't make you." Draco said. "But I really hope you do."

"Well," Potter glared, and Draco had to suppress the physical pain this cold stare caused in his chest. Until this moment he had not even known that this was possible. "I don't believe you."

He went to stomp away, but Draco grabbed his robes and pulled him back. "I get it, okay?"Draco said, and in any other situation he would be ashamed of the desperation leaking through his tone. "I was never really friendly, especially to you. I'm a horrible person and I was in the closer circle of your biggest enemy, but whatever you think of me, please don't tell anyone about the Mark. It will kill me, one way or another."

Draco swallowed at the piercing stare. He had always been fascinated by Potter's eyes. Not just the colour, but the recklessness and intensity behind them, the passion and wildness. It made his heart beat faster, always had, if he was being honest.

"Okay." Potter stepped closer. Draco got the urge to take a step back but he was already crowded against the tree. "I won't tell them, but one wrong move... One wrong move, Malfoy, and no one in this family will have sympathy for you anymore. Got it?"

It had been long since Draco had heard Potter saying his name with so much venom, and it made his heart constrict painfully. He averted his gaze from Potter's hard one and gave a subtle nod at the cold snow on the ground. He felt Potter's warmth leave and when he dared to look up a few seconds later, the raven haired was nowhere to be seen.

Draco sunk down the tree trunk. He felt strangely crushed. It was like the weight, that he carried around since he got the Dark Mark had gotten even heavier. And now his robes were wet because he was so intelligent to sit down in the snow.

Draco took a deep breath, stood up and straightened his back. He was a Malfoy. He would not let this get to him. Potter would not tell anyone until Draco made a wrong move. He was a noble Gryffindor like that. It did not matter that Potter hated him now again. Who cared what Potter thought about him? Not Draco Malfoy.

The first thing Draco saw when he stepped into the kitchen was Potter. He was sitting on the chair closest to the door and straightened his back in a defensive posture. It was strange, Draco thought. Now that he knew about the Dark Mark, Potter should be hiding behind the Weasleys to protect himself, not sitting in front of them. Then again, Potter was the epitome of stupid, self-endangering Gryffindor.

But Draco knew it was not just that. Potter cared about the Weasleys. More then he cared about himself. Potter had never been able to tell his own worth. It sent a spark of longing down his spine. Draco wanted to show him how much he was worth. And he wanted to be cared about by Potter just as much as he cared about the Weasleys. The only people really caring about Draco were his parents. And even his father saw him more as The Malfoy Heir than his child, Draco.

#

That evening, Draco silently followed Potter and Ron up the stairs. Before they could reach the attic though, Potter turned around and glared at Draco. "Where do you think you're going? Remus and Snape are not here today."

"Relax Harry." Ron looked confused. "He also slept with us last night even though they were not there."

"I know." Potter hissed. "But I don't want you there. Go to Bill's room, got it?"

Draco just stood there, staring after Potter's retreating figure. Ron caught his eyes, giving him a confused and apologetic shrug before going after his best friend.

When Draco got into the room, Bill sat up in his bed. "Oh, you're sleeping here today? I'm sorry." He went to get off but Draco just shook his head, put the mattress on the floor and laid down on it. He stared up at the ceiling. The white surface flickered with the candlelight hanging on the walls. Draco felt a blanket and a pillow being thrown next to him but he did not move. "Draco? Are you okay?"

Draco felt the Dark Mark tingle unpleasantly on his forearm. He could feel the burning pain that he felt when he had gotten it under his skin, watched by red satisfied eyes and other emotionless faces. He felt the pressure of not crying out aloud and he remembered the pain being mirrored in his mother's helpless eyes. Then he thought about Potter, his cold green eyes, filled with dislike and disappointment. He felt his chest constricting. He felt his face crumbling.

But he was a Malfoy. His face should not crumble in any situation, no matter how much his heart hurt. So he sent Bill a small smile. "I'm fine."

Bill still looked concerned. "Are you sure?"

"Of course." Draco said, adjusting his pillow and blanket and laid down on his side, facing away from the Weasley.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" Bill did not sound convinced.

"I'm fine." Draco said.

"But you know you can talk to me?" Bill said. "If something is ever up?"

Draco was silent. Bill's words made his chest loosen a bit and Draco was incredibly thankful for his concern. "Yeah." Draco just said.

Bill seemed satisfied with his answer because he shuffled around until he got comfortable and was soon asleep. Draco did not fall asleep for a long time.

#

Even though Potter was the only one who knew about the Dark Mark, Draco felt like the whole Weasley family was acting wary towards him the next day. Especially Ron. But Draco tried to stay rational. Potter was a noble Gryffindor and he would never expose someone like this before he did not deem it necessary.

Besides, if anyone knew, Draco would not be eating in the Burrow right now, getting chattered to by Mr Weasley about some curious muggle device. Apparently, Mr Weasley loved to talk to Draco about it because he was the only one who did not roll his eyes at his enthusiasm for muggles and their inventions.

Draco had to admit, he had also gotten curious about the muggle things Mr Weasley always talked about. It somehow made them more... real. He had never encountered a muggle except for the muggleborn witches and wizards. And well, those muggles who were brought into the Manor for the Dark Lord. But Draco had always refused to see them as human beings. It was partly how he was brought up, but it was also a protection mechanism. Draco probably would have not been as sane as he was if he let himself feel real compassion for those muggles in the Manor.

Draco shuddered and focused on the present. Which meant his eyes were focusing on Potter who was smiling at Ginny. She was telling him something Draco had not heard and Potter let out a small laugh. As Draco was thinking about how Potter was laughing far too rarely, the green eyes focused on him and transformed into a cold glare.

Draco looked down on the wooden table. Before yesterday, Potter would have smiled at him. One of these soft, teasing smiles that let his eyes shine in the colour of spring. Spring was Draco's favourite time of the year. Draco gripped his left forearm. He was hating that burning mark more than ever.

#

He was not able to sleep well that night either. His mind was racing with memories, imaginations, fears, worries. The past, the future, the present, nothing seemed pleasant to think about. He tried to keep his mind solely on happy memories. Past Christmases, happy times here in the Burrow, the accepting Weasleys, Potter's smiles, happy times with his friends at Hogwarts... but this just reminded him how he had lost part of it and could lose the rest any second.

Then, he imagined how it was sleeping next to Potter, holding him in his arms, smelling his hair, or being held by him... Shortly before he finally fell asleep, he had an idea.

#

"I think I should go." Severus said after everyone on the cramped table leaned back against their chairs, satisfied.

"No!" Draco protested.

Mrs Weasley gave him a soft smile before turning to Severus. "You are very welcome to sleep here again. We invited you because Draco missed you and I think it is good for him to have his godfather around."

Severus caught Draco's eyes. The boy blushed, glancing at Potter, then staring at the table. Severus held his stoic expression as he turned to Mrs Weasley. "That is very kind of you. But I don't like sleeping in a room with other people."

A smile tugged on Draco'slips. It was incredibly embarrassing to tell his godfather about his motivation to have him over, but Severus had stayed his usual self and had shown barely any emotion. Although he had had a teasing twinkle in his eyes and a smirk hushed over his lips.

"Oh, that's not a problem." Mrs Weasley said. "We can leave you Bill's room again. The boys have slept in other rooms before."

"If that's not too much trouble..."

"Oh, none at all." Mrs Weasley said. "Bill goes to Fred and George and Draco into the attic-" Bingo.

Draco barely had time to revel in the fact that his plan had worked when Potter cleared his throat. "Uh... Mrs Weasley-"

Draco jumped up and grabbed Potter's sleeve. "Excuse us for a second." He pulled the stunned boy into the next room, meaning the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" Potter hissed. He pulled his arm back from Draco and went to go back. Draco panicked and grabbed Potter's arm, pulling him back and pressing him up against the wall so he could not escape. For a few seconds, they just stared at each other, startled by the proximity. Then, Potter's eyes turned cold again, ready to fight. Draco felt him tense up against him and he took Potter's face between his hands.

"Potter, listen."Draco hissed.

Potter did his best to avoid looking into his eyes, which was quite a task when Draco had his face in his hands. He squirmed against Draco. "Let me go, idiot. Go away."

"Only if you listen to me now. Listen!" Draco's demanding tone made Potter's eyes snap up to his. For a second, Draco lost his voice. He had always noticed Potter's eyes, but being so close... Then, Potter's eyes shifted to the side and he tried to free himself again. "Potter listen. If I wanted to do something to you or any of the Weasleys, I would have done it already. Please trust me."

"Trust you!" Potter exclaimed, glaring back at Draco. He could see the storm brewing in these green orbs. Conflict, longing, distrust. Waves from different cardinal points were clashing against each other.

"Potter-" Draco tried. "Harry..." Potter seemed to still completely at his whispered first name. The waves seemed to get smaller, the wind seemed to get less, more from just one direction. Draco wanted to say something. He knew he was supposed to say something. But his mind was blank. Without realizing himself, Draco's thumbs started caressing Potter's soft cheeks. The storm in those green eyes settled even more.

His attention was brought down to Potter's lips when they parted and his soft breath mingled with his own. They were soft and pink. Then tip of his tongue darted out for a second, leaving them shining. Draco glanced back up into Potter's eyes, wetting his own lips. Potter also lifted his eyes from where he was looking down to something. Was it... Did he feel the same as Draco did?

Draco searched for any sign of what Potter might be feeling. Potter's cheeks got redder and his eyes darted down before they went up to Draco's again, his chin slightly tilted and his lips parted. He was searching, waiting...Should Draco dare-

"Harry-" Ron's voice made them jump apart. Draco stumbled over his own feet in his haste to get away and landed on the floor. "Oh sorry. Are you alright? Mum told me to go here and make sure you haven't murdered each other because it was so quiet. Need a hand?" Ron held his hand out for Draco who took it and let himself be pulled up.

He caught Potter's eyes, who looked just as stunned and confused as Draco felt. The storm behind Potter's eyes was as raging as ever. It made Draco want to go back into their former position and calm the surges.

"Uuh, guys?" Draco's eyes snapped to Ron, who just looked back and forth between Potter and Draco, confused. Suddenly, Draco felt suffocated. Potter still stood frozen against the wall and however much Draco wanted to wrap him up in his arms, he had no idea what was going on and he needed space. This was scary and new and Draco did not like it.

So he left the room with long steps and his Malfoy stance. It was important to carry himself with dignity and confidence, even when he was scared and confused. No one had to know that.

#

That evening, when Draco lay next to Potter in the dark attic, he wondered if this has even been a good idea, making Severus sleep here so Draco had an excuse to sleep next to Potter again. Potter was tense, squeezing on the side of the mattress to be as far away from Draco as possible. Draco was not sure if he was this tense because he knew about his Dark Mark or because of the incident in the kitchen.

Somehow, since that incident, Draco had an even bigger urge to be close to Potter. An urge, that Draco always somehow knew was there, but never admitted it, not even to himself. What other reason was there to constantly tease Potter? Hate? Well, why would he hate Potter? He was not a muggle or even a muggle born or a blood traitor, not really. And Draco was taught to hate those.

The only reason to dislike Potter was his stupidly pretty eyes and his talent in Quidditch. Draco had to admit that he was also jealous. Sometimes, it was genuine dislike. Because the boy was unfairly perfect.

And yeah, there was the fact that he was the Dark Lord's worst enemy but why should Draco be interested in this Dark Lord who had died while Draco was still a baby? His father told him about it, but Draco was more fascinated with the baby who had defeated him instead of the Dark Lord himself. And additionally, this baby who defeated the Dark Lord had to be so damn pretty. What other choice did Draco have than to tease him until he noticed him?

Draco could not sleep. Potter also seemed to have problems sleeping since he squirmed and his breath was not calm and even. Ron was already snoring above them and Draco turned to his side facing Potter. He watched his silhouette in the dark. His back was turned to Draco and his shoulders were rising and falling with each breath.

Carefully, Draco inched closer. Potter's shoulders stopped moving like he wanted to convince Draco that he was already asleep by staying completely still. Draco inched even closer, put and arm around Potter's waist and pulled him back into his chest. Potter tensed. Draco felt that he was about to struggle against him. "Shh..." Draco whispered into Potter's ear. He took one of Potter's hands and intertwined their fingers.

Slowly, like he was ready to get his guard up again any moment, Potter relaxed. When he was completely relaxed, Draco felt Potter holding his breath. Draco squeezed his hand and evened out his own breath. It did not take long for them to fall asleep, breaths matching.