After that night, I looked at Draco Malfoy differently. There was something quite vulnerable about the Slytherin and I was curious. I watched him surreptitiously and noticed that he was not the same boy I had shared a house with all these years in Hogwarts. He had become withdrawn; the conceited, self-important, cocky boy was gone. He looked drained and constantly lost in his own thoughts.

Harry was still going on about suspecting Draco of being a Death Eater and although I privately agreed that something was up, I decided to keep my thoughts to myself. Harry would only accuse me of being worried for Draco, which to be honest, I was. And besides, I was getting fed up with Harry's Voldemort theory. It really was a ridiculous notion. If I had told him how withdrawn Draco had become, even amongst the other Slytherin's, then it would only make Harry more sure that Draco had become a Death Eater.

It was nearing the end of September and the days were slowly getting colder and shorter as the summertime was coming to an end and autumn had started to creep in. With so much on my mind, I was struggling to sleep at night so I found myself one night staying up by the fire long after everyone else had gone to bed.

About one o'clock in the morning, I heard a noise and turned to see Draco entering the common room. I wondered where on earth he could have been at this time.

To my surprise he came towards me and sat down on the other end of the sofa, his eyes firmly on the dying fire. He heaved a heavy sigh and rubbed his hands over his face before slumping back into the sofa, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Pansy?" He asked curtly, breaking the silence between us.

"No, I - I just couldn't sleep." I answered honestly.

"I know the feeling." Draco put his head back and closed his eyes. I took the opportunity to glimpse a look at his face and was shocked to see that his once pale white skin now had a greyish tinge to it.

"Where is it you go to every night, Draco?" I asked, feeling brave despite my heart beating fast at this sudden, unexpected, intimate moment.

I held my breath waiting for him to tell me to mind my own business. But instead he opened one eye, considered me with it, and sighed. "I have - I have things I need to do."

He sat up now and leant forwards, he placed his elbows on his knees and covered his face in his hands. He was the picture of a tired man. My heart clenched slightly.

"Whatever it is, is it worth making yourself ill over?" I asked gently. I didn't want to push him but it felt almost like he was attempting to reach out to me.

He gave a sudden short deep laugh and raised his head up from his hands, focusing his eyes back on the fire.

"It's not something that I have much of a choice about." His voice was full of bitterness.

I thought carefully about how to word the next part and then said, "If I can help in any way...?"

He finally looked at me, his grey eyes meeting my blue ones. A look of shock flickered across his face.

"Help me? Why would you want to do that?"

I didn't have an answer. So I just shrugged.

Draco gave that short sharp laugh again and stood up. "I thought so."

As he turned to head towards the dormitories I suddenly knew what to say to prove my sincerity.

"You were kind to me. The other night."

He stopped and wheeled round to face me. A small exhausted smile tugged at his lips making, his grey eyes twinkle. "Goodnight, Carter."

And without waiting for a reply, he turned and left.

***

Draco was tired. He had spent hours yet again working on that damn Cabinet but he was still no closer to fixing it. Only a month in and he was already exhausted.

He stumbled his way into the common room, exhaustion making him feel wretched. He glanced over to the fireplace and felt oddly disappointed that the sofa there sat empty.

He had surprised himself the other night when he had found himself sitting down next to Rosie and how good it felt just to say something to someone. To her. Of course - he wouldn't tell her what it was he was doing, but just by being able to express himself had alleviated a tiny chunk of the enormous weight that was pressing down on him so heavily.

And then she actually offered to help him. For a fraction of a second he felt a glimmer of hope and relief at the prospect of not feeling alone in this. But it quickly faded when he realised the absurdity of it. No one could know. It was too dangerous. Especially to involve a friend of Potter's - Slytherin or not. And besides she's a- well, she's a muggle-born.

But her genuine concern had touched him in a way that he'd never felt before. He couldn't help but smile at her as he had bid her goodnight. And right now he was disappointed that he couldn't say goodnight again.

***