A/N: This is kind of associated with my oneshot "Mornings" kind of like a prequel, but not really. I've got three that link in with "Mornings" so while I'm figuring out how to fit them together, I thought I'd post this.

This is DM/HP pre-slash.

Sunrise

When the sun rose and shone through the windows, Harry turned over and groaned. Disoriented, he rolled out of bed and staggered around the room, looking for his wand, still blinking against the light. The stench of blood and death still overwhelmed his senses, even though the room they were storing the bodies in was on the other side of the safe house. After locating his wand near his discarded robes, he stumbled from his room, wearing just his jeans, his shirt and robes lying in a bloody mangled pile.

The battle had been a massacre. They'd walked right into a trap on a routine scouting mission, everything had been quiet and then seconds later there had been chaos. The only thing that bothered Harry was that the rest of the scouting group had reacted faster that he'd thought they could. Something was niggling in the back of his mind, something he was missing.

Yawning, he just pushed his way into the kitchen to find coffee, a recent habit. He was really not a morning person.

The last thing he expected to see when he entered the room was a Death Eater sitting at the table.

x-x-x-x-x

"How could you not tell me? All this time you've let me believe that when Snape's cover was blown we lost the only spy we had! How do you even know you can trust him?"

The Death Eater in question, Draco Malfoy, winced as Harry's voice reached a volume even higher than the previous two hours of yelling. Harry noticed and glared at him. He was well aware he was talking in circles, and every time someone else walked into the room to see what the yelling was about, they had to join in, only prolonging the argument. He knew he should not be yelling like some petulant child left out of the loop, but he just couldn't believe they were training him to take over the Order and yet neglecting to give him a list of active spies, not to mention that they had allowed him to walk blind into a trap while everyone else was warned, even though it was only by a few minutes.

"You don't have to carry every burden, Harry," Hermione tried to reason with him. "There was no need for you to know, you act well under pressure and you would have questioned the information and probably exposed him!"

"That is not the issue!" Harry yelled back, ignoring the looks Draco was giving him, which were strange and not helping the situation. "If I'm going to lead then I need to know everything. I could have killed the only damn spy we have left!"

Silence followed that statement. Harry was just about ready to scream from frustration. He'd never wanted to be leader in the first place and had only accepted the position because the Order wouldn't take no for an answer. If they were going to force him into that position then they shouldn't hold anything back from him. It was common sense.

"I remember seeing him, if I hadn't been interrupted by another attack, I would have killed him!"

"Harry!" Hermione suddenly gasped, looking horrified. "We're only supposed to be casting stunners!"

"THIS IS WAR!" Harry roared back, done playing nice. "And while you were wasting your time with stunners and disarming, you were hit with over ten different spells, three of which would have killed you if Ron hadn't been apparating you to Pomfrey each time, wasting time and resources! They are Death Eaters, and with the new death penalty they're going to end up dead anyway, better to kill them on the battlefield and not have to worry about someone waking them up than simply stunning them and moving on!"

Hermione looked at Harry as if she didn't even know him anymore. The other students in the room were also giving him hurt and disapproving looks. Anger bubbled up inside him at the mess Dumbledore had made with his stupid morals and inadequate teaching. Glancing at the Aurors, Harry realised that even though they understood, they weren't about to step in. Instead of trying to make the younger members of the Order see sense, he turned his rage on Draco, a familiar act that almost made him cry from the thought of days before the war, when fighting with Draco was the only fighting he ever knew.

"All things change in war," he said quietly, sick of yelling. "I don't fully trust you, I'll never fully trust a spy. However, I expected better from you, Malfoy. I expected a Slytherin to come to me to make sure I didn't kill him in battle. I expected you to put aside our pathetic schoolyard squabbles and report to me since I was the leader of that squad and I should have been the first to know I was leading my men into a trap!"

Draco opened his mouth but Harry slammed his hands down on the table, causing the blond to promptly shut his mouth before he said anything.

Harry looked around the room, making eye contact with all the Order members present.

"I am not disappointed in any of you, I'm not even surprised," he spat, wishing he had said this earlier. "But when are you going to realise that teenager or not, I am the only person who can kill Voldemort? All this bullshit about protecting me until the end is ridiculous if you consider the fact that I could have died last night because you thought I couldn't handle working with Malfoy, that I couldn't handle the fact I was walking into a trap and only had a few minutes to do something about it."

"I am not surprised at your behaviour, I'm used to being told nothing by the people who say they want the best for me. I'm used to being treated like a child while you demand adult actions from me."

Harry walked over to Draco, staring him in the eye. There were many things he wanted to say to the Slytherin, there were many things he wanted to ask. However, he knew there was only one thing that would really make it through Draco's thick skull; the only words that ever seemed to make his stoic mask falter.

"I don't care what they do to me, I'm used to it. But I am thoroughly disappointed in you, Malfoy. I expected better."

Without another glance at anyone, Harry left the room, slamming the door behind him.

x-x-x-x-x

The war always seemed to be on hold when Harry returned to Hogwarts. Somehow, they had managed to hide his involvement in the war, and as such, decided to keep up the act. So unless there was a mission at night, Harry returned to Hogwarts and played the student all day, faking surprise when the papers would show a new attack or a group of Death Eaters caught or killed.

Harry didn't see Draco again for quite some time. As much as he didn't trust him, he couldn't ignore the fact that Draco was more effective as a spy than Snape ever was, and Voldemort never suspected Draco either. At times, that made him even more suspicious of the SLytherin, but then he'd catch Snape staring after the blonde with an expression of pity, and it would remind him of how spies proved themselves loyal.

Some nights Harry would wake screaming, images of Voldemort in his head, wondering whether Draco would come to tell him anything. Sometimes he even wondered if he should tell the Order exactly was Draco was doing as he played Death Eater. Always, he was surprised by the fact Draco never brought information directly to him, nor did he ever respond to what Harry had said to him. All that really changed was that the information now made its way to Harry immediately after it was received from Draco.

In fact the first time Harry spoke to Draco was the day after Ron and Hermione went home for the holidays and Harry decided to stay behind. It was safer for him to be in the castle, and while he hated being cut off, he could still perform his duties as head of the Order just as well as when he was at headquarters. Harry had been wandering around the halls in the early hours of the morning when he had stumbled across Draco, sitting on a window ledge in the astronomy tower.

"Malfoy, are you okay?"

The question was tentative, Harry wasn't quite sure how to deal with a spy covered in fresh blood. He took a seat next to Malfoy and tried not to ask more questions. There were so many things he wanted to say or ask, but he knew he'd get no answers that way. He hadn't seen whatever the Slytherin had gone through this time, Voldemort seemed to be blocking their connection, or maybe he just wasn't angry enough to let Harry in.

"I just got back, already seen a medic, nothing serious to report, by the way," Draco replied absently.

Harry had once seen Snape come back from a meeting with Voldemort, and recognised the tactic Draco was employing. So many times he'd seen Snape retreat behind a wall, casting his mind away from what he had just been through, but so affected by it that he couldn't focus on anything else, and was only able to sit there, staring absently at nothing in particular; although Snape always managed to do it with a scowl, so he looked mostly normal. Draco just looked like a lost and frightened child.

"Why are you doing this?" Harry asked softly.

Since he'd found out about Draco, he'd been trying to think of the Slytherin's reasons for joining them, as no one had told him. He couldn't begin to understand why Draco chose to be a spy, to suffer so much, when he could have simply given them all the information he had and claimed asylum, as a couple of other minor Death Eaters had.

"Sitting here?" came the reply. "I was looking to be alone actually."

Harry would have rolled his eyes once, but even though he hated the Slytherin, he couldn't ignore the tiredness in that voice. Draco was suffering, it was clear to Harry even if he didn't already know from Snape what spies when through.

"Malfoy, can we drop the act? For just one conversation? You hate me, and I hate you, there's no need to prove it with snide remarks."

That got Draco's attention. The Slytherin looked up and fixed his eyes on Harry's.

"I don't hate you," he said simply. "I don't have the time or the energy to hate you, I haven't for quite a long time, I just kept up the act because it was expected of me. I just don't feel like talking about why I became a spy, and quite frankly my reason is none of your business."

Harry blinked at him stupidly for several seconds before his eyes narrowed and he assumed the familiar suspicious expression Draco usually inspired in him.

"It is my business," he replied sharply. "I need to know that I can trust you as a spy, but I can't do that if I don't know why you changed sides. The others may not see past a story that I can see right through, so I need to know. This is war, anything happening on my side is my business."

Draco smiled and turned to look back out over the moonlit grounds. Harry bristled at the smile, annoyed that the blonde wasn't taking this seriously, but refrained from making any comment. Snapping insults at the Slytherin was second nature to him, but they had to work together now, so he'd have to learn to hold his tongue.

"When they said you were going to be in charge soon I said you weren't mature enough to deal with the responsibility, that you were too young," he commented, still smiling that tired smile

"But you have grown up, haven't you? That was clear when you told them they should be killing in battle rather than stunning. You know, I needed someone like you, when I was younger. There was no one to tell me what I was doing was wrong, not in a way that made a difference at least. I wish I hadn't been such a little prick when we'd met, maybe things would have been different."

Harry turned away from Draco and looked out over the grounds as well. He needed time to process all that, it wasn't something he'd ever expected to hear from the boy he'd been fighting with for so many years.

"I'm not the only one who has grown up," he replied. "War does that to people. But you never answered my question; why be a spy?"

Draco turned to look him in the eye again, with a pleading look that threw Harry for a few seconds.

"Isn't there some other way to prove to you that I can be trusted?" he asked. "My reasons are very personal, and no one really knows them. I don't want to share them with anyone, I'd rather die with no one knowing."

Harry stared into Draco's eyes for a while, trying to see past the sad desperation in them. As leader, he'd never be satisfied not knowing, but he didn't think there was any way he could make Draco tell him without causing a rift that may impair their work together. Some part of him suspected it was an act, but he didn't pay it much attention. He had to remember that Draco had changed, it was so obvious, and he couldn't keep thinking things that he thought years ago when the Slytherin was a different person.

"I don't understand what could be so personal about becoming a spy, but I guess I'll just have to wait and hope you'll tell me," he said quietly after a while. "Until you do, I won't trust you, but I'd prefer if you came directly to me with your information, rather than sending it on as you have been."

"I don't see why I should come stra-"

"Why are you so bothered by coming to me with information?" Harry interrupted. "What difference does it make? It's more important that it comes straight to me without going through other people, especially if it's sensitive information!"

Draco glared at him and looked away again, huffing to himself.

"I don't come straight to you because I know seeing people like this upsets you, even if it is me," he replied sullenly, refusing to look at Harry. "It's bad enough going through this without seeing how people respond when they see me."

The Gryffindor found himself blinking stupidly again. It seemed the Slytherin knew him better than he thought. Although, realistically, it made sense since he was a spy, but Harry was having a hard time seeing past the enemy of so many years.

"I have to get used to it sometime," he said quietly.

After a while, he stood to go back to bed, but Draco shot out a hand and clutched at his arm, still not looking at him.

"Would you mind staying?" he asked.

"Wouldn't you rather be alone?" Harry asked trying not to flinch away from Draco's blood-stained hand.

"Not really," Draco replied, looking up at him, and suddenly looking very young. "I'd rather be around someone who doesn't mean me any harm."

Without really thinking about it, Harry sat back down. After a while, he reached out and put an arm around the blonde.

When the spy started crying, he just held him and watched the sun rise.

Feedback would be much appreciated since I'm still working on linking this and three other oneshots together to form a more coherent story! And if you want a glimpse at where this relationship ends up, go read "Mornings" since this was intended to be its prequel (it just doesn't fully fit yet).