Harry woke up in his four poster bed, his limbs aching. He groaned, rubbing his eyes, and checked the time.

He rolled over to face the rest of the room and watched as Ron did his hair. He and Ron were not on speaking terms and Harry hated it. He needed his best friend. He was going through a potentially life-threatening situation and he needed him to help him through it.

A voice broke him from his thoughts.

"Will you quit staring, and get dressed," Ron ordered in a voice as cold as ice. Their eyes connected through the mirror, both filled with hate and anger.

Harry didn't respond, but got up and dressed slowly to make sure he didn't end up going anywhere with Ron.

Harry left a few minutes later to go to breakfast, just after Ron and the rest of the boys had gone.

The castle was empty as he made his way through the endless corridors and hallways that made up the school.

He didn't fancy going to breakfast today, not wanting to see the dirty looks the rest of the school would give him in the great hall. However he was hungry, and his hunger always got the better of him.

Harry made sure to take the shortest way to the hall, to avoid as many people as possible.

He was about to round the corner to the last corridor, when a firm body knocked into his, sending both students to the ground.

Harry groaned on the cold, stone floor and opened his eyes to see a silver pair staring back into his own.

Harry then took in the neat, blonde hair and the rest of the face. His eyes ran over the sharp nose and pink, full lips, defining the features.

Draco coughed unexpectedly, and Harry realised he had been staring a bit too long.

"Potter, get off me," Draco hissed, however the boy seemed very flustered.

Harry scowled as his face started to heat up. He started to clamber of Draco.

Harry started to walk past the taller boy, giving him one last scowl, but a hand caught his wrist.

"Potter, wait."

The two stood to face each other, and Harry noticed Draco looked different.

For one, he was on his own, which was a surprise; he always had his gang of Slytherins with him.

And his face looked different. Almost worn, tired, and his eyes looked... was that—?

"Potter, I know I'm gorgeous, but would you quit with the staring?" Draco said impatiently.

Harry coughed lightly and turned away, his face ablaze.

Draco clearly wanted to say something, but seemed to be holding back. Then he couldn't take it anymore and he exploded.

"Potter are you stupid?! Why the hell did you put your name in the goblet?! Do you have a death wish or something?" Draco looked like he wanted to kill someone.

Harry was startled. "Woah woah woah, calm down Malfoy, what the hell is your problem?!" Harry scrutinised him.

Draco's eyes flashed, they reflected some emotion Harry couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Never mind, Potter, I don't care, I hope you die in this tournament." Draco pushed Harry's chest so he stumbled back and stalked past him, leaving Harry feeling confused and angry.

What on earth was wrong with the boy? Why did he suddenly care what Harry did and didn't do? Why should he have anything to do with his life?

Harry's brain whirred as he started walking back to the Gryffindor common room. He didn't feel like eating anymore.
__________________________

Draco sat in potions at the back of the class with the rest of the Slytherins, listening to Snape's drawl.

However, the less interested he became in the effects of a Bloodroot potion, the more drawn he was becoming to a certain raven-haired boy sitting two rows in front of him.

Stupid Potter. What was he thinking, entering a tournament that will most likely get him killed? How utterly stupid.

Draco was pulled ubruptly from his thoughts by a book being slammed down in front of him on the desk.

He glanced up and gulped as his god father looked at him with a mixture of disgust and disappointment.

"I expect you to be listening in my classes, Mr. Malfoy," came the drone of Proffesor Snape's voice.

"Five points from Slytherin, and if I catch you daydreaming in my classes again, it will be ten. Now get to work."

Draco hadn't realised Snape had paired everyone up already until a bag slammed down next to him, making him jump.

He looked up to see a farmiliar mop of black, messy hair, a lightening-shaped scar and forest-green irises.

Draco found himself lost in Harry's eyes, gazing at the beauty of them up close. Draco hadn't noticed them properly before.

A sharp voice pulled him back to his senses.

"What are you staring at?" Harry was looking at him in a confused way, his guards up.

Draco teared his eyes away from Harry's and spat, "Yes I'm fine, Potter, now go and get the ingredients so we can make this bloody potion."

Harry stood there for a minute, regarding him, peering into Draco's eyes. Something was different about them.

"Malfoy.." Harry asked hesitantly. "Malfoy, what's wrong with your eyes?"
Draco turned away suddenly, and avoided Harry's eye contact.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. He saw?! Did Potter see his eyes? He can't know. No one can know. Especially not him.

"What are you talking about?" Draco grunted at Harry. "Nothing's wrong with them." he lied. "Just go and get the ingredients."

Harry stood, looking at him for another minute, whilst Draco avoided his gaze, before walking over to the cupboard.

Draco sat down heavily on his stool, waiting for Harry to come back. He rubbed his hands over his face and looked round the classroom.

Pansy noticed Draco's strange behaviour and caught his eye.

'Are you okay?' she mouthed to him. He nodded his head, but she could tell he was lying.

Pansy gestured towards herself then to Draco, at the same time mouthing 'We need to talk later."

Draco just nodded and sighed.
__________________________

Halfway through potions, Harry asked the question Draco had been silently begging him not to.

"Malfoy, what was that about this morning before breakfast? Why are you so damned annoyed with me for entering the tournament? It's not a big deal for Merlin's sake."

Harry's questions poured from his mouth and Draco gulped, knowing the answers to each, however not wanting to say a single one of them.

"Just shut up, Potter, and don't talk to me."

Draco cut a rat tail firmly in half and dropped it into his cauldron, before moving onto the second, and slicing it angrily.

Harry was silent for a bit, and Draco hoped he had dropped the subject. But no such luck. A hand slammed down on the table.

"No, Malfoy, you tell me right now. You tell me exactly why you're acting weird around me, weird being somewhat nice to me in some form. And you tell me why you're not fighting with me anymore, why you keep backing down on your insults! And you tell me right now why the hell your eyes—"

Harry was cut short by Snape's voice, signalling the end of the lesson.

Draco got up before Harry could say any more, grabbed his bag and left, hurrying out of the classroom. He heard shouts from his Slytherin friends, but ignored them, turning down a corridor that led him outside.

He gulped in the fresh air and slid down onto the grass, burying his face in his hands.

His eyes couldn't be.. No. He couldn't possibly be... No, Draco, stop it, he told himself. You're just being stupid and paranoid.

But deep down Draco knew he wasn't. Deep down, Draco knew that no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, no matter how much he didn't want to believe it, he knew it was true. He knew.
__________________________

Harry was angry. He was frustrated that he hadn't got the answers to his questions, and all he could seem to think about now was Malfoy and his odd behaviour. What had gotten into him?

He decided he would have to make Malfoy tell him, one way or another. He knew something was up with the blonde and he wanted to find out what it was.

Wait. Harry stopped his thoughts ubruptly. Since when did he care about Malfoy and what was wrong with him? He just wanted some answers and that was it. And he was going to get them.
__________________________

A day had passed since the potions lesson, and Harry found himself sitting in the great hall at the Gryffidor table with Ron and Hermione.

He and Ron were still not talking to one another, so were sitting opposite each other, avoiding eye contact.

Hermione was doing her best to keep on both sides, but if she talked to one, the other would immediately want her attention.

At this particular moment, Hermione was talking to Harry about homework, and Hermione-like stuff. Harry wasn't much interested, but pretended to pay attention anyway.

Harry glanced around the hall and his eyes fell on a certain Slytherin, sitting with his friends at his table. They looked angry and confused, whilst Draco looked cold and emotionless. Harry knew it was just his Malfoy mask covering up his true feelings.

"Hey!" Hermione clicked a finger in front of his face, bringing him back to the Gryffindor world. "The first task is in one week, Harry! Have you prepared at all?"

Harry gulped, realising he hadn't. He had been too caught up in Malfoy profanities and unanswered questions, to even be giving a thought about the tournament.

Hermione looked shocked when he didn't answer.

"Harry, you must be prepared! You're battling a dragon for crying out loud! Please promise me you'll do as much as you can to prepare for next week."

She looked at him, pleading with him to make the promise. He realised in that moment how much she cared for him, and he was so grateful for all her gratitude, he gave her a hug.

She held onto him tightly.
"You'll be okay," she whispered firmly in his ear. "I know it." She drew back and smiled at him. Harry smiled back at her words. He was grateful he still had one best friend left.

Harry glanced up at the other end of the hall, to be faced with an empty seat. Draco, Blaise and Pansy had all left the hall early. Harry wondered where the blonde Slytherin had gone, but then scolded himself for even thinking that.
Why on earth should he care?

Harry turned to Hermione.
"I'm gonna go to the library for a bit, look up a few things on dragons, mentally prepare myself," he told her.

Hermione beamed at him, happy he was making a start on his promise.
"Of course! See you later." She quickly hugged him once more before letting him go.

Harry hurried out of the great hall, down the corridors and hallways to the library, where he pushed the door open to reveal the rows and rows of shelves lined with books.

He picked out as many books as he could on dragons, gathered them into a pile and was about to sit down at a table at the back when he heard voices from the next isle. Two were male, and one female.

Harry didn't mean to eavesdrop at first, but when he heard his name, of course he grew interested.

"Pansy, I can't just ignore it! This means something and there's nothing I can do about it!" Draco replied to something Pansy had said previously.

"Well, I don't know, Draco. What do you feel?" she asked him carefully.

There was a small silence, in which Blaise coughed, whilst Draco thought. Eventually he answered.

"Like I can't insult him. I can't be mean to him anymore because of... something. Pans, look, I don't know, I feel awful after I've said something somewhat remotely cutting..." Draco trailed off.

"Is that why your eyes—" Blaise started, but was cut off from the glare Draco sent in his direction.

"Blaise, don't you dare talk about that. No. I won't accept it. It isn't true." Draco said firmly, more to himself than his friends.

"Why did Potter even have to enter this stupid tournament?" he thought aloud. "He could die! Is he seriously that stupid?!"

Harry didn't get a chance to hear what Pansy or Blaise would have said next because a book fell from the pile he was carrying in his arms, to the floor with a loud crash.

Silence fell and Harry held his breath.

"What was that?" Blaise whispered. "Is someone there?"

But the Slytherin trio found nothing because Harry's heart was hammering in his chest as his legs carried him out of the library. He ran through the echoing school, his blood pumping in his ears.