Over the next week Harry found himself much more relaxed than he had been for a long while, he found it easy enough to ignore the dementors surrounding the castle when he was surrounded by his friends in the Gryffindor common room or his dorm, or even just learning new spell to cast in his lessons, without having to worry about malicious encounters with Malfoy. In fact he was starting to enjoy running into Malfoy, it was fun trading barbs with him, especially as nobody seemed even slightly suspicious of their encounters, because it wasn't so different to their previous meetings.

It seemed as if Hermione was always in a hurry lately, so the one person who he'd thought he'd have to more careful around wasn't really paying that much attention to the proceedings.

Ron was more interested in fighting with Hermione than Malfoy currently, so he wasn't paying much more attention.

In fact, their bickering was getting so much that Harry was getting into the habit of just walking off when either one of them started something with the other. He didn't even need to make an excuse because he had a perfectly good one.

Currently, it was the first day of October – a month he always dreaded – and the two had started arguing before they'd even gone down to breakfast, so Harry – with it being a Saturday – had decided not to make his day any more stressful than it had to be and slipped through another hidden pathway when the two weren't paying him any attention.

The loud voices of Ron and Hermione cut off as Harry made his way through the hidden passageway, curiosity setting in as he realised he'd never used this passage before.

Quickly flying up the stairs, Harry emerged onto yet another long corridor. It was one he hadn't been on before, not dissimilar to any other corridor in the castle, except for the large window panes were all empty. Probably why this corridor looked as though it was rarely used. It wasn't exactly the safety places for hundreds of students to pass through. If one of them was shoved too far, they could fall straight out of the window.

Fortunately for Harry, he was the only one in the corridor, so had no worries of accidently falling out a window.

Walking towards them, Harry took in the waist high thin ledge, and wide, arching windows with stone embellishments curling down from the top of the frame. There was a slight chill in the air, but Harry wasn't one to care too much. Instead, he perched on the edge of the window, closing his eyes as the wind ruffled his hair gently. The Scottish countryside surrounding Hogwarts was so open and unpolluted. It made a change from living most of his life in the suburban area of Little Whinging, Surrey. He hated it there, so every day he could spend at Hogwarts was a blessing to Harry.

Gritting his teeth, Harry forcibly tried to remove his thoughts from the Dursleys. Hatred and Dread curled in his gut at even the thought of being forced back there.

"What's got your face looking like that Potter?" A smooth, drawling voice sounded from behind him, and Harry leapt of the side of the window at being startled. His feet landing on the stone floor.

Pale, blonde hair gleamed like a beacon in the morning light, and a non-uniform wizarding robe was partially covered by a thick cloak, making Harry realise he probably should have bought his own cloak, only he hadn't planned on exploring the castle, so hadn't thought it necessary.

"I didn't hear you approaching Malfoy. Where did you come from?"

Malfoy just smirked.

"You will never know."

Harry just rolled his eyes.

"Right." His own lips twitched in a forbidden smile.

"So?" Malfoy raised his eyebrow in a challenge.

"So what?" Harry made his face look as innocent as possible, which just got another snort from Malfoy.

"What unpleasant thing were you thinking about that made you pull that face." Malfoy walked slightly past Harry, before perching next to a division in the window.

Harry gave the other boy a calculating look, contemplating whether to tell the truth or not. Malfoy had made fun of Harry's home life often enough in the past, what with Harry's lack of any contact from his relatives, and the appalling clothing. A though which made Harry more self-conscious of what he was wearing. Not only was it muggle, but very ill fitting.

But Harry wasn't sure whether Malfoy realised quite how bad Harry's home life actually was. Should he tell him? He was surprised to find he wanted to. But apprehensive as to whether he should.

Either fortunately or unfortunately Malfoy made the call for him. He must have noticed Harry pulling on the sleeve of his jumper or something similar.

"You were pulling a face like that because of your clothing? Not that I don't think it's horrific, but surely if you despised it quite so much you'd just change it?"

Harry stared at Malfoy. He didn't realise it, but the intensity of his stare unsettled Draco greatly.

It made guilt well up in the paler boy's chest. It had been fine making fun of Potter's clothes (and just Potter in general) when they both hated one another, but now that they settled on an agreement of sorts, Draco found himself caring more about Potter's opinion of him. Which had probably been why Draco had found himself not insulting not only Potter, but also Longbottom, and just more people in general. Now that he'd actually spoken to Potter about why he acted the way he did (he still couldn't figure out why he'd done that) he was more aware of the way people perceived him.

And he was coming to realise he didn't like it. It just seemed so petty, and he didn't want to live the rest of his life being labelled as a conceited bully. He wanted to be respected. It had been an eye opener to realise he wasn't. The only reason people let him get away with the way he acted was because of his name, his wealth, and his father.

Draco had come to realise that didn't sit well with him. Something he'd spent the last week contemplating over many sleepless nights.

Blaise had actually confronted him about it this morning. The boy was sharp, and he'd picked up on Draco's behaviour throughout the week and cornered him in their empty dorm once everyone had left to breakfast.

Draco had been forced to spill a few truths about himself to Blaise, including he was starting to realise he didn't really like the person he was. Blaise had spent a minute just looking at Draco, working something over in his head. Then the boy had smiled at him and told Draco he'd keep his secret, and that if Draco was really serious then perhaps there would be a chance of an alliance between their two families in the future, with both of them being heirs to their respective families.

It had been a lot for Draco to take in, so he's told Blaise he was skipping breakfast today, and to cover for him if anyone asked.

Then he'd just decided to spend the day exploring the castle. He still didn't know how the castle worked, because it was always changing, and some of the less populated parts of the castle never seemed to stay in the same place. That's how he'd managed to bump into Potter in this corridor.

Now Potter was staring at him with those too green eyes and it made Draco uncomfortable.

"No offense intended Potter, but even you must realise those clothes don't exactly…" Draco trailed off as Potter tilted his head slightly, and his lips curved in a small smile.

"It's fine Malfoy." Something twisted in Potters face at his last name. "I don't like these clothes any more than you do. I assure you."

"Draco." The boy in question wasn't about to drop the topic, but first he wanted to address the fact that something flickered in Potter's face when he'd said Draco's family name. He wanted to see if it was just the name or him. "Call me Draco."

Potter's green eyes analysed him, but then his lips twitched and his eyes seemed to light up slightly.

"Okay Draco. Call me Harry then."

Draco nodded, his own smile dancing lightly across his lips.

He didn't say anything for a moment before moving back to their conversation.

"So, Harry. If you don't like the clothes you wear? Why wear them?"

"Because they're all I have." The green eyes opposite him seemed to bore into Draco, showing him that this was much more important than Potter – Harry's – casual tone suggested.

The was silence for a beat before Draco's muscles suddenly tightened and his confused frown cleared, before an expression of thunder appeared on his face and he leapt off of the ledge, and moved as close as he dared to Harry's person.

His voice was slightly strangled when he finally spoke.

"What?"

Harry was astonished at the reaction. He hadn't expect for Malfoy-Draco to react so strongly. It was as though Draco were taking Harry's situation personally. It took a moment for Harry to process that Draco had spoken enough for him to come up with an answer.

In the end, Harry didn't have to bother because Draco resumed speaking.

"Are you telling me that your forced to wear those- those rags?!" He spat the last two words out as if they were poison in his mouth.

In his surprise Harry didn't even think of telling anything but the truth.

"Yes…"

"By whom?" The 'whom' confused Harry, but he didn't comment.

"My relatives." His response was slightly hesitant.

"The muggles?" Draco was looking at him as though the thought confused him. And Harry supposed it did. To Draco, wizards were the superior race, it was what the blonde boy had been raised to know, and he wouldn't understand how the muggles could force Harry to do anything.

"I can't do magic outside Hogwarts. I don't have much say in the matter."

Harry was surprised it was actually not as hard to talk about as he'd thought it would be. Perhaps because Draco wasn't giving him much time to process everything he was giving out. He was never telling Hermione the only thing she had to do to get him to tell her whatever she wanted was to surprise him so much, and ask questions so fast he didn't have time to process his answer. He'd never have any secrets.

"But they're muggles. You're Harry Potter. The boy who lived." Draco said it as if it explained everything.

"That doesn't mean anything to them. They hate magic, they-" Harry abruptly cut off, which caught Draco's attention even more than what he'd said.

"What were you going to say?" Draco's eyes were narrowed and he fastened his grey eyes on Harry.

"Nothing." It was too rushed. Harry winced slightly.

"No. You were going to say something. What was it?" Draco's voice had done the opposite of what Harry had expected him to. Instead of shouting, and getting louder (trying to make themselves heard), like Harry had come to expect people did when they wanted to know something, Draco's voice had lowered until it was just a murmur, and although the other boy hadn't moved from where he'd been standing before, Harry couldn't help but feel as though the other boy had gotten a lot closer.

"You said they hated magic. What were you going to say Harry?" Steely grey eyes pierced into Harry's own green eyes, freezing him to the spot.

He felt the confession slip out of his lips against his will. Despite Draco not using any magic against him, Harry couldn't help but feel as though to lie to the other boy, even lying by omission would be one of the worst things he could possibly do.

So he told the truth.

It floated between the two boys. A whisper. An expression of trust.

"They hate me."

Something fluttered across Draco's face, Harry was surprised to recognise it was guilt.

But then Draco bit his lip slightly, looking at Harry with something warring in his eyes.

"Do you… Will…" Draco looked annoyed at his own incomprehension. "Would you want to talk about it?"

Harry stared at Draco for a moment, before nodded slightly and shifting of the windowsill to sit below it, on the floor.

He just looked at Draco and waited for him join him. Which he did.

It took hours, but eventually Harry had finally told someone everything he'd kept cooped up for so long. About the way he was treated. About the neglect, and abuse. Something he still wasn't really comfortable with labelling. About the cupboard under the stairs and the way his Hogwarts things were the only thing he really owned for himself.

Draco swore he would never tell anyone what Harry had told him. In return, Draco told Harry about Sirius Black, and made sure Harry wouldn't go looking for him. Forcing the volatile Gryffindor to stop, listen and realise it would do no good to go looking for Sirius Black.

But that wasn't all Draco told Harry. He told him about something he'd overheard between his parents, and his following conversation with his mother.

He told him about Sirius Black. The man who ran away from his family.

He told him what his mother had told Draco. That Sirius Black had received no trial. That his mother believed the man to be innocent.

Harry had a hard time coming to terms with everything Draco told him. Learning that the man had been responsible for his parent's death, and his own fate. Then learning that what everyone – including him for a short while – believed about the man might be a lie.

The two boys spent the whole day sat in the abandoned corridor talking. Both boys letting go of any preconceived notions of the other, and just getting to know the other for the first time.

When the sky started darkening, the two finally separated, both returning to their respective dorms before dinner, both having eaten nothing that day.

What neither boy yet realised was that there was now a bond between that two than had been forged that day in compassion, and understanding, and acceptance.

And it would only grow.