Draco found himself writing to Harry for the rest of the summer. He felt slightly ridiculous, even his parents asked him why Ulysses was making so many trips, and who his curiously frequent correspondent was. Harry's snowy owl - Hedwig - was practically an alarm every three days.

Despite this, Draco wasn't deterred. Their letters were so interesting, and Draco didn't want to stop just because his parents were starting to get nosy. As well as the interesting content of his letters, Harry never left him hanging either, which was nice- he always quick to respond. Draco didn't know why they sent so many letters, as they were waiting until they got to Hogwarts before they broached the topic of the original timeline, so there wasn't any real reason they had to communicate.

They weren't friends, so it couldn't be that. Draco supposed it didn't matter that much, why shouldn't he send letters to Harry? It wasn't as if it was hurting anybody. He didn't have to be friends with someone to enjoy someone's personality.

Not that he did. Obviously. Potter was insufferable.

The weeks rolled by in quick succession and soon came September, before long Draco was stood back on Platform 9 3/4 kissing his mother goodbye. He stared about the station frantically, looking for a raven haired head to appear bobbing amidst the crowds. Although they'd agreed to wait until the sorting to talk, some indisputable part of Draco still wanted to see Harry before then, just to confirm he would be there.

Why he did didn't matter. There was always a chance of another second year fiasco, or perhaps the Dark Lord himself would simply decide to start his plans sooner. You never know. It wasn't to do with anything else.

As Draco began to entertain the possibility that something had actually happened, a parade of ginger heads entered the station. At the sight of the Weasley Clan, Draco knew Potter would be in their midst. He stood on his tiptoes, trying to see over the two twin's tall heads and behind them, trying to get a glimpse of his target.

Right as he thought he saw a flash of dark hair, a placating hand on his shoulder pressed him to his feet again. Draco turned to face his mother, who was staring at him confusedly.

"Great Merlin, Draco! Have some decorum! Whoever it is you are looking for, I'm sure it can wait until you are on the train." She reprimanded fondly, rolling her eyes. "There's no need to be on your toes like a love-struck fool, you probably won't even be able to find her within all this crowding."

Flaming with embarrassment, Draco realised she thought he was looking for a girl. He didn't have the heart to tell her he was actually trying to make sure Saint Potter had made it to the station without summoning hell to earth.

"Aha, ha yes, of course. Sorry mother." Draco said, face red.

Not wanting to face anymore questioning about his non-existent love life, he kissed her cheek and blurted a hasty good-bye before rushing off to find a compartment.

——

Harry spent the duration of the journey restlessly moving about his compartment. Hermione asked him why he was so distraught several times, even once forcing him to sit still after he ruined her and Ron's game of exploding snap by accident. He couldn't help it, he just kept reciting what he had to tell Draco over and over again.

Even the news of the Dark-Mark-conjurer not being captured incited nothing in him. He supposed he had heard it before, but it wasn't that which made him immune to the news.

He just needed to see Draco. Then it would be okay.

Before long they arrived at Hogwarts, stepping off the train and into the crisp evening air. Hagrid was calling the first years and the rest of them made their way over to the carriages. To his surprise, he could see the Thestrals.

Despite these eyes having never witnessed death first hand, it seemed it was enough that his mind had seen it.

They looked as creepy as ever, although Harry did slightly understand the unique beauty to them now. They were hideous in a lovely sort of way.

Or maybe he was just going insane.

They stepped into the carriage and Harry still couldn't sit still to talk, instead opting to stare at the scenery that passed them to distract himself.

As soon as they reached the castle, Harry was off his seat and into the Entrance Hall.

"Harry!"

Harry turned around to see Ron following him, closely tailed by Hermione and Neville - who had also joined them in the carriage.

"Where are you going, mate?" He asked.

"Erm, I need to get something from my trunk. Just going to the Common Room. I- er- need my scarf. It's quite cold today. I'll only be a sec."

Ron exchanged a baffled glance with Hermione, "I'll come with you if you want."

"No!"

Ron stared at him, clearly taken aback.

"Er- I mean, no, you don't need to. I'll just go by myself."

Ron looked disbelieving, "Are you sure? I don't mind coming if that's what you-"

But Harry was already backing away, "Nope! Seriously I'm good, see you at the Feast!"

With that, he ran off towards Gryffindor Tower, circling back around to the Entrance Hall and glancing both ways before ducking into the gap between the large stone pillars.

He was still checking he wasn't followed when a voice startled him from his reverie.

"Took you long enough."

Harry whipped around to see Draco step into the light, orange glow of the lanterns outside glinting on his light hair.

"Oh! It's you, sorry I'm late. Ron and Hermione were suspicious so I had to make up an excuse, I had to go towards the Common Room first."

"Doesn't matter," Draco scoffed, "you're here now. So, the first part of the plan is easy." Harry nodded along, absently smoothing his ruffled hair. "Just don't put your name in this time."

Harry stopped, "What?"

"I said don't put your name in this time, Merlin, pay attention."

"No, I heard that but what are you talking about? I never put my name in!"

Draco stared at him incredulously.

"Really, Potter?" He drawled, "What I s'pose it just magicked itself in there, did it?"

Harry stood rooted to the spot, "You actually think I put it in the first time around? I thought you were with the Death Eaters! Didn't your father ever tell you what actually happened?"

Unease was creeping onto Draco's face, "Wh- No! I never- he didn't- you.. you're telling me you actually didn't put it in the first time around?"

"No! Of course not! Why would I do that?!"

For the first time ever, Draco looked truly ruffled by this information.

"I always thought you-? But then, what did actually happen?"

And so Harry told him. He explained right from the beginning, with Wormtail escaping in third year all the way until Barty Crouch Jr confessed his crimes in Moody's office.

Draco was in shock, he said nothing for several seconds after the explanation.

"So.. so you really never put your name in?"

Harry scoffed, "That's what I've been saying!"

Draco wasn't satisfied. "But- But, why didn't you tell everyone that! I get that some wouldn't have believed you, I mean obviously I never did, but why didn't you tell Granger and Weasley?!"

"I DID!"

This information seemed to uproot Draco even more, he was growing rapidly more confused and unsettled by the second.

"And- and what?! They just, what, didn't believe you?!"

"YES!"

Draco was bewildered. He looked at Harry standing before him, the hurt he'd felt back then clearly written across his expression.

"But... they're your best friends?" He asked quietly.

Harry looked to be on the verge of tears now. Suddenly, the gravity of what this meant hit Draco like a tidal wave. He'd shamed Harry back then, for craving even more fame and glory than he'd already got, he'd made rumours and badges and challenged him whenever he had the chance, but the whole time Harry had truly never done it.

He'd never done it and not even his own friends had believed him.

All at once Draco felt a terrible remorse overcome him, and a bizarre urge to embrace Harry and apologise for all of his friends, and all that he'd done too.

Of course, he didn't do that. But he thought about it.

"I tried so hard to make them believe me. Hermione sort of did, she was on my side, but Ron hated me for it. He thought that I just wanted more fame, and that I was selfish because I wouldn't tell him how I'd done it. I just gave in eventually, I let him think that. It wasn't like he was listening to anything I said." Harry said in a resigned voice.

Even though it would be so easy to make a dig, Draco staunchly ignored the way Harry's voice cracked as he spoke.

"Stupid Weasley. Just another sign he's got the brain of a weasel, I've been saying it for years."

Harry smiled ruefully, "Yeah, stupid."

Draco sucked in a breath, placing a tentative hand on Harry's shoulder in a gesture he hoped was mildly comforting. He'd never particularly been a touchy sort but he supposed - being a Gryffindor - that Harry probably was, and there was something unexplainable about Harry that made Draco surprisingly want to touch him.

Harry didn't flinch away from his hand, so Draco took this as a good sign and began to create a new plan of action, this time to hopefully avoid Harry having to play in the Tournament at all.

By the time they were finished, they'd agreed that they would simply keep charmed tabs on the cup that would trigger if Moody-Barty got close, and that they'd take turns keeping watch on the Cup on the Marauder's Map (after Harry told him what it was) throughout the nights.

Harry gave a kind of awkward wave and edged towards the exit, when Draco grabbed his wrist. Harry turned to him, startled.

"Potter. I am- I'm sorry." He said. "For not believing you."

Harry's frown morphed to a mirthful smile, and Draco began to regret saying anything. Stupid Potter, laughing at his apology.

"That's okay, Malfoy. You'll just have to make up for it by believing me double-time this time around." He elbowed him playfully, giving another wave and slipping out into the Hall.

Huh. He didn't laugh. Perhaps, just maybe, Potter wasn't quite so bad after all.