Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. You would know if I did.

Warning: Harry/Draco pre-slash. Almost completely ignores the end of the fifth book and the sixth.

I don't know what made me write this, but I had just finished the fifth book and for some reason was inspired.

Harry was completely out of it as he sat next to his friends at lunch. He stared blankly down at his meal, pushing his soup around with his spoon.

He'd been like this ever since the death of his godfather. The man had been the closest thing to family he'd ever had – not including the Weasley's and Hermione, of course – but Sirius had actually known his parents. He'd been best friends with his dad, had loved Lily like a sister, and was the father Harry had always wanted. Granted, Harry hadn't gotten to spend a lot of time with him, but what did he care?

Point blank, Harry missed Sirius Black.

"Harry?" Ron's voice broke through his thoughts. "You alright, mate?"

Even talking with Dumbledore hadn't eased his mind.

"You've hardly touched your food," Hermione stated worriedly. "I know you haven't been right since… you know… but you need to eat…"

School was ending in a few days and Harry didn't think that he could go back to his old life in Little Whinging. Not that he ever could after his first year.

He looked up at his friends. He managed a small smile. "I'm fine, guys. Or, at least, I will be. Until then…" He lifted his bag off of the ground and nabbed a bread roll from a nearby plate.

"Where you goin'?" asked Ron.

"I'm going back to the dorm. I don't think I can sit through anymore classes today." And with that, Harry walked down the row between the tables and out of the Great Hall.

Ron and Hermione exchanged worried looks, but finished their lunches all the same.

The scarred boy was actually very grateful that his friends weren't following him. He needed some time alone, something he hadn't had since Sirius's death.

But, alas, fate would not have that.

Harry could here footsteps behind him. Rapid ones, as though someone was trying to catch up to him. Harry ignored them.

"Hey, Potter!"

And that was definitely the last person Harry wanted to see right now.

Stopping, the Boy Who Lived heaved a heavy sigh. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

Said boy stopped next to him, but Harry did not glance up.

"I… heard about what happened…" Harry was surprised to hear the hesitance in Malfoy's voice. "I, uh…" Malfoy was obviously not used to addressing Harry civilly. "I am sorry…"

Harry finally looked up. He scrutinized Malfoy critically, emerald eyes narrowed. Malfoy was not looking at him. "And… why are you being so nice to me?"

Malfoy scowled, grey eyes locked onto a tile by Harry's feet. "Damn it, Potter! I'm trying to be nice here! Don't make this harder than it already is!" There was a light flush on his cheeks.

"But why?" Harry's tone was now puzzled.

Malfoy sighed and ran a hand through his blond locks. "Because." Because I care. That's what Harry wanted to hear. "Because you're this great hero that everyone wants you to be. But even you have your weak moments. Even you suffer losses." Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Malfoy beat him to it. He had a scowl on his face again. "And, yes, I do make fun of you a lot and of your parents." Harry closed his mouth. His eyes translated his confusion, and the young Malfoy apparently noticed. He held out his hand. "I wasn't lying first year when I said I wanted to be friends." His hand stayed up between them, a small smile lighting up his pink cheeks. "What do you say? Wanna start over?"

Harry stared at him. Then at his hand. He was so confused. First, the blonde offers him friendship. Then, when denied, he's a complete git to him for five years. Then he offers friendship again. But one look in the young Malfoy's grey eyes and Harry can tell that he's being completely sincere.

The emerald eyed teen glared slightly. "You've been a right arse to me and my friends for five years. And your father attacked me. Twice!"

The blonde shrugged, a faint hint of regret shining in his eyes. "I'm not accountable for his actions. And I will admit, I was bitter. I'm not used to being denied the things I desire." Here, glanced quickly away from Harry. "And I hold grudges."

"That's for sure…" Harry muttered.

Malfoy smiled and Harry could not help but to smile back.

"So what do you say?" The Slytherin held his hand out again. "Friends? We can keep it a secret from Weasley and Granger if you want."

Harry glanced down at the proffered hand, Malfoy's skin was pale, almost snow white, and the skin looked so soft.

The raven-haired boy looked back into Malfoy's pale grey eyes and smiled back. A happy smile. One that he hadn't shown in a long time. He gripped Malfoy's hand and was happy to realize he was right about how smooth the boy's skin was.

"Alright," said Harry. "Friends."

Malfoy's smile was almost blinding. "Great. In that case, I'm Draco Malfoy. It's nice to meet you."

Harry smirked back. "Likewise, Mr. Malfoy. I'm Harry Potter."

They let go and Malfoy started walking backwards to the Great Hall. "Please call me Draco… Harry." Then he turned around, turned a corner and was out of sight.

The Boy Who Lived was left standing in the corridor, still confused, but much happier than he'd been in weeks. He pondered over his encounter with Mal –Draco as he walked the halls of Hogwarts back to the Gryffindor common room. There, he figured he could ponder his encounter and the last few weeks before drifting off to sleep.

So, yea, I don't remember what made me write this. I'm not sure if I even like it that much. All I'm happy with is Draco's little speech.

You're so uke, Draco!

Tell me what you think! I need to know 'cause I might write more if the mood takes me!

R and R!