A/N: Holy cow, who ever thought I would update this story?
Honestly, I have no excuse or reason to give you why it took me a few years to update… I think I was super busy with life at the time, but really, who knows?
I found it a few days ago and I re-read it (Oh my god it's horrible I'm so sorry)
Anyway I felt SO bad for not finishing it, so I decided to just go ahead and finish the story. These are the chapters I never got around to posting... I apparently wrote two different endings, and I like this one the best, so.. yeah
AGAIN I'M SO SORRY ;_;

-xXx-

Dumbledore did not mention anything to anyone regarding his abrupt disappearance earlier. Except for Harry.

It took a while to explain what was going on, and many days and months of processing the information. Harry had gone through far too much this year already to add horcruxes on his list of things to bother about. The headmaster had given Harry some space once he discovered Sirius had been killed, and decided to wait for a while longer before any more talk of his plans to help him destroy Voldemort.

However, Harry was certainly a little thrilled to hear of the news. It did take his mind off of Sirius and, other things, for a while.

Christmas came and passed uneventfully. Classes went on, and it seemed almost like nothing that had happened, actually happened.

Defense against the dark arts quickly became a very uncomfortable class. It hadn't been too difficult sleeping in the same room as Draco at first, but being forced to sit together, practically bumping elbows for an hour, was enough to make Harry distressed. Sometimes during class, Harry would continue with his habit of keeping his thoughts quiet, even though the curse was broken. It felt strange now, almost like having your arm taken away from you, or suddenly going blind. A part of him was missing, a part of him was taken away and he had nothing to fill that gaping hole with.

The boy beside him had turned back into the Malfoy that Harry knew and despised before. There was nothing great about him, his tormenting and hateful remarks continued as if they never left. Harry didn't look forward to these moments.

Most of his days now were spent quietly studying in the library with Ron and Hermione, or practicing quidditch outside with Ginny – which had recently become a more-than-friends type thing. She had left Mark – or Dean, or whoever it was she was with before a few weeks before declaring her undying love for Harry. It didn't spark up anything inside of him, but he knew Ginny cared deeply for him. He just wasn't sure if he could return the same feelings.

The first time Ginny kissed Harry, it was quiet and unromantic. That was his opinion, anyway. After that, Ginny seemed to find any spare moment between classes or on weekends to attach herself to his hip. It annoyed Harry for a while, but soon found comfort in her being around all the time. Ron and Hermione didn't seem to mind, in fact they both seemed happy for the two of them. Everyone was happy.

Yet the feelings of Draco still lingered in his chest. He'd briefly see Draco come into their bedroom, only for a quick moment before the blonde haired boy disappeared behind his bed curtains. There were some moments when Harry would catch himself wanting Draco to make eye contact, just maybe then could Draco see how much Harry was hurting. Maybe if Draco said one thing to Harry in DADA, he could explain himself.

All of that was something Harry put behind him, or was tried to at least. He couldn't think these things any more, or he would never move on.

"You alright, Harry?"

Harry looked up from his study notes. Hermione was leaning against the library table with a worried expression.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. What were you saying?"

"Nevermind," Hermione smiled. "We should probably head in, it's getting late."

It wasn't that late, Harry decided when he entered an empty bedroom. It was indeed only just after eight, but the sun was gone and the night sky was lit up with stars. Frost started to form on the windows, and Harry felt a shiver crawl up his spine. He changed into his night clothes and crawled under his covers, leaving his bed curtains open. For a second, Harry thought it might be a good idea to close them tonight, even though he never bothers to close them. Closed spaces weren't enticing to him, so he decided to leave them open as usual.

Once Harry got comfortable, sitting up against his headboard with a book on mythical creatures, the door opened. Draco stood at the entrance, looking annoyed that the one person he did not want to see, was the only person in the room and was staring directly at him.

"Mind not staring at me, Potter?" Draco spat bitterly, then proceeded to his own bed next to Harry's.

Harry didn't respond. His stomach fluttered with what he hoped was nausea, then settled his focus back on his book.

Draco closed his bed curtains, and Harry listened to him fumble around trying to get changed on his bed.

"Bloody inconvenient," Draco muttered.

For a moment, Harry considered trying to talk to Draco again, but found he had nothing to say. What could he say, really? Hey Draco, I still have feelings for you that I'm trying to get rid of. Can you help me with that? didn't seem like something Draco would respond positively to. Instead, Harry put his book under his pillow and closed his eyes, and tried to think of quidditch.

It was about a week before Draco spoke to him again. It was just after potions class, Ginny was waiting for him outside the door and greeted him with a kiss. Harry pulled back in embarrassment, when he noticed the disgusted look on Ron's face. Draco immediately noticed Ginny's hand clasped together with Harry's when he walked out of the classroom, and muttered the word, 'fitting' when he passed them.

"What do you think he meant by that?" Ginny asked.

"Probably nothing," Harry said, hoping that Ginny would drop it.

He thought about it for the rest of the day.

"One thousand words by Monday," Professor Snape said as he slammed the lesson book closed.

The students gathered their things and began filing out of the classroom. Once Draco had left with Pansy, Harry hurriedly caught up with Professor Snape before he could disappear into his office.

"Yes, Potter?" Snape snarled.

"Um, I was wondering, is it possible that perhaps some certain… symptoms of yewbreath could last, even after it's out of my system?"

"No, it would be impossible. What symptom has remained?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing, I was just curious."

With that over with, Harry grabbed his books. He had decided to quickly ask Snape about it, hoping that perhaps he would say 'Yes' and that would put Harry's mind to rest. Maybe if he had some excuse as to why he continued feeling like this, then he could sleep at night.

When Harry left the classroom, the halls were empty. There were two younger students further down speaking to each other, but other than that, everyone else must have been in a hurry to get to their Friday night plans. He wandered towards the staircases, not really focusing on the footsteps that were quickly coming up behind him, until a pair of hands pushed him forcefully into a broom cupboard.

Harry's arm saved his head from bashing into the solid ground. He quickly flipped around to find a very angry looking Blaise staring down at him, wand ready in his hand.

"What have you done to Draco, you filth!" Blaise spat.

Harry stood up and stepped backward, further into the cramped broom cupboard. "I haven't done a thing!"

"Liar, I see the way he looks at you. He never sees his friends anymore, he's too bothered now that you've put him under some sort of spell!"

"That's not it at all, would you-" Harry didn't have time to run, Blaise slammed the door and locked Harry inside. "Let's hope you rot in here, Potter. When I find out what you've done to him, I'll have your head on a fucking stick!"

Harry banged his fists against the door. He continued for several minutes, hoping some passerby would hear him calling for help. When no one came, Harry slid his back against the wall and onto the floor. Useless, he thought.

He hadn't done a thing to Draco. Anger flooded him, why would Blaise think such a thing? Draco had been acting like typical Draco since the potion wore off, nothing changed. Now that he thought about it, Draco had been spending most of his time cooped up in his bed by himself. Most weekends he was alone in the common room, sometimes Harry would spot him with Pansy in the library, but not once with Blaise. A few months ago he recalled Pansy saying Blaise had been throwing himself at Draco for years but that couldn't possibly be why he threw Harry in a broom cupboard.

Anxiety crept under his skin. There was no light in there, and Harry couldn't find his wand. He used his hands to search the entire floor, around his books and checked every pocket three times. It was gone – Blaise must have taken it, or it was outside of the cupboard.

"Brilliant, bloody brilliant," Harry muttered, kicking the door in anger.

TBC