FIC GLOMP for sorrel_forbes

[snakelion]

Title: Tradition
Author: sesheta_66
Beta/Britpicker: nursedarry and alovelycupoftea
Glomp For: sorrel_forbes
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Summary: With the war over and no friends around to remind them of their past, a tentative friendship forms between Draco and Harry. Will it last, could it become more, or will it all fall apart when school starts again?
Rating: PG-13 (suggestion, language)
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): None
Epilogue compliant? EWE
Word Count: ~ 9K
Author's Notes: Thanks so much sorrel_forbes for signing up for H/D Glompfest and providing this prompt. *glomps* I hope you enjoy it!



Tradition

All eyes in the Great Hall turned to look as the Lovegood girl shouted out something ridiculous. All eyes but Draco's. His remained fixed on Potter as he vanished under his cloak. Moments later, the Weasel and Mudblood started walking out the door, no doubt flanking the bloody saviour.

Not so much as a by your leave, eh Potter? Oh, no, never mind. Feel free to ignore me, sitting here wandless, while you carry the channel of my power away with you. My mistake, surely. I should have fawned all over you like the rest of the school.

Draco turned to his mother. "Let's go home."

The three Malfoys left the Great Hall and exited the school with no confrontation. On their way to the perimeter of the grounds, Lucius picked up three wands from several fallen wizards. He handed one to Draco's mother and another to Draco. After a few quick tests of the wands, the three of them Apparated to the Manor, thankfully escaping unsplinched.

As he walked around the home he'd grown up in, dark magic tickled Draco's senses at every turn. He saw angry red eyes in every corner, heard curses reverberating from every wall, smelled acrid blood and sweat and fear all around him. Acid burned his throat. His hands shook and his stomach churned as he relived the countless Crucios he'd had to endure - from both sides of the wand. Screams of those tortured within these walls echoed through the silence. Every room, every corridor, every place Draco went was tainted by his touch. Draco shuddered before fleeing to the sanctuary of his room, hoping someday the Manor might feel like home again.

~ * ~ * ~

Harry awoke in the familiar surroundings of his dormitory, overwhelmed by a sense of ... emptiness? There was no other way to describe it. He should be relieved, but all he felt was a vast blackness in the pit of his stomach. All the senseless pain, suffering and deaths. And for what?

Ron's grunt shook him from his melancholy and he turned to see Hermione wrapped in Ron's arms, sleeping peacefully. Harry allowed himself a smile. They deserved this: happiness, peace, comfort.

His thoughts shifted to Ginny. He hadn't spoken to her the night before, opting to retire to the seventh-year boys' dormitory, eat a quick dinner courtesy of Kreacher, and collapse in an exhausted heap. He hadn't even heard Neville, Dean or Seamus return.

Only as he stood on weary legs did he realise just how beaten and bruised he was. He hobbled to the showers, hoping to wash away the remnants of battle, and at least a few aches. He allowed the scalding jets to pound over his stiff muscles, inhaling the steam in an attempt to fill the void deep inside.

Somewhat rejuvenated by the hot shower, Harry crept into the Common Room, hoping to find Ginny there. She wasn't, but a third year girl was.

"Hello," Harry ventured. Her eyes went wide as he addressed her. "Would you mind asking Ginny Weasley to come down?"

"Yes." She jumped up from her seat. "I mean no. I don't mind. I'll just go get her." She ran up the stairs as Harry sighed. He supposed the hero worship would be at an all-time high for a while.

Recalling the ebbs and flows of his fans and naysayers - sometimes the very same people - over the years, he shook his head and chuckled. This too would fade away.

"Mr Potter," the girl squeaked as she came back down the stairs.

"Harry."

Her eyes widened again and she nodded. "Um, Ginny isn't there. She apparently didn't come back last night."

"Oh." Harry tried to disguise his disappointment. Of course Molly would not have let her stay at school after everything. "Thank you." He smiled at the girl, and she blushed and ran back to her seat before curling up in a ball and burying her face in the book she'd been reading before Harry had interrupted her.

Surprisingly, Harry found he didn't want to be alone this morning. He allowed his feet to carry him to the Great Hall for breakfast, not sure what devastation he would face. He took a fortifying breath. No time like the present.

He found much of the devastation from the previous day gone. Of course the House Elves would have worked all night to clean whatever surfaces they could. Glaring reminders surrounded him, chunks of stone missing, cracks everywhere the eye could see, but the room was clean of obvious debris. It looked more like an old room in a state of disrepair than a place in which a battle took place less than twelve hours prior.

"Harry!" Luna called, waving him towards the Ravenclaw table.

He returned her wide smile with one of his own as he joined her. "Have a good night's sleep?"

She nodded. "Best in a long time."

"Yeah." He piled his plate with eggs, bacon, sausage, toast and marmalade. Only when Luna began giggling did he register that his plate was nearly overflowing.

"You sure you're not Ron on Polyjuice?"

~ * ~ * ~

Draco tore down the stairs at the sound of the Floo. His mother had reinforced their wards on the Manor weeks ago, but there was always the danger someone might show up wanting to kill them. Not all of Voldemort's supporters were dead or behind bars.

He stopped short when he saw who was there. "Potter?"

"Mister Harry Potter is here to be seeing Mistress Narcissa."

Before Draco had a chance to respond, Potter approached him, arm outstretched, Draco's wand in his hand. "I thought you might want this back."

Draco snatched it out of Potter's hand before the git had a chance to change his mind. The familiar warmth thrummed up Draco's arm, making him feel whole again. "About bloody time!"

"Draco," his mother chided as she entered the room.

"What?" Draco motioned towards Potter. "He's had it for weeks now."

"Yes, well …" Potter shuffled his feet. "I tried to get it back to you sooner, but the Aurors had it."

Draco felt the blood plummet from his face to his stomach. "What do you mean the Aurors had it?"

"They wanted it as evidence. You know …" Potter scratched the back of his head. "Priori Incantatum."

Draco gripped the back of a chair to steady himself. He knew what spells he'd cast, Crucio being at the forefront. "And?"

Potter looked Draco in the eye. "And I told them that you were under pressure from Voldemort to do his bidding, even when you were in control of your wand." Draco's mouth fell open. "I also mentioned the wand had been compromised, that Voldemort had used whatever wand had been at his disposal, and that it was likely this one had been used in the same manner."

"Thank you, Mr Potter." Draco's mother sounded relieved at the words.

"I was only telling the truth," he said. He turned to Draco. "I hope it works properly for you."

Draco nodded. It was all he could do to reconcile the git in his mind with the man standing before him. And then Potter did something Draco never could have imagined.

"Thank you, Mrs Malfoy." Draco had no idea what Potter was talking about, but his mother seemed to. "I'm glad you were able to find your son."

Draco nearly fell over, but Narcissa‘s hand grasping his own steadied him.

"And thanks to you, too," Potter said to Draco.

"Me?"

Potter nodded. "Yeah. For not identifying me. I doubt I‘d be alive now if you had."

Draco saw no point in acknowledging or denying the truth, and after an awkward few moments of silence, Potter left.

With Potter gone, Draco's mother explained the events that had transpired in the forest. Draco wondered what his father thought about his mother's actions, then quickly decided he didn't care. She'd helped get rid of the Dark Lord and they no longer lived each day in fear.

Draco cast Priori Incantatum on his wand, to see what he might have to defend himself against. Even Potter couldn't get him out of a Crucio charge that easily.

When he saw Crucio followed by various unfamiliar spells, then Crucio again, Draco did a double take. Had Saint Potter actually cast a Crucio? Draco wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or impressed. Or maybe a little bit scared.

~ * ~ * ~

With the last of the memorial services now over, Harry allowed himself to go to the pub with his friends. He looked at Luna's battered face, scratches still marring the pale skin, but her eyes bright and hopeful as always. "What was it like?" he asked quietly, finally asking what he'd wanted to when they'd first found her imprisoned at Malfoy Manor.

Fortunately Luna caught on and Harry didn't have to explain himself. “Well, I suppose it was awful, not knowing when you'd be free again - or if you would be," she said in her matter-of-fact way. She shrugged. "But Draco made it bearable."

Harry's jaw dropped. "Draco?" Was she joking?

Luna nodded, staring off into space as though replaying the events of her captivity in her mind. "Well it was just as terrible for him, wasn't it?"

"Excuse me?"

"He and his parents had to have Voldemort living it their house. That can't have been easy."

Harry felt his face heat. "Do not feel sorry for Lucius Malfoy."

Luna shook her head. "Of course not. He made his choices." She picked up a chip and stuffed it into her mouth. "But his wife and son never really had any, did they?"

Harry's resolve wavered. Visions of Draco in sixth year swam before his eyes: deteriorating, reduced to little more than a shell; crying in the bathroom, frantic that he would not succeed, fearing for his parents' lives; and wavering, his wand hand shaking while he stood atop the Astronomy Tower, trying desperately to save his parents. "No," Harry agreed, "I suppose not."

"Everyone deserves a second chance, right?"

Dumbledore's voice echoed in Harry's head. The Headmaster had offered Draco an out, a chance to save his parents. But Harry knew that hadn't really been an option for the son of Lucius Malfoy. Draco could have saved himself and his mother, but his father would never have trusted their side. And would Draco have been able to choose between his parents and convince Narcissa to leave her husband? Would Harry have been able to make such a decision?

“He apologised to me, you know," Luna said, interrupting his thoughts. "Every time he came down to the dungeon by himself, he said he wished it could be different." Harry watched a smile spread over her face. "And he did everything he could to make things less horrid. I felt badly for him when I found out he‘d been tortured after we escaped."

Harry's stomach clenched. Truth be told, he hadn't given much thought to Draco's fate after they'd left the Manor.

And Draco hadn't identified Harry either. Dumbledore had been right about him.

~ * ~ * ~

Draco walked into the courtroom again. Eight days ago he'd been in this very place to hear the verdict at his father's trial. He'd had to watch, helpless, as his broken father was carted off to Azkaban for another ten years, and a lone tear had streamed down his mother's cheek. Later that evening she'd hugged Draco like she hadn't since he was a child. She'd released him with a smile and said, "I expected him to get the Kiss."

Three days after that, without proof with which to convict Narcissa of specific crimes, they'd taken half the Malfoy fortunes in recompense. Well, half of what they held in Britain. They kept the Manor and had enough holdings elsewhere that they'd be fine. Perhaps no longer able to live the lives they'd grown accustomed to, but Draco doubted there would be as many palms to grease or parties to host in the future anyway. He was just relieved that his mother would never have to see the inside of a prison cell.

Draco doubted he'd be so lucky today. He scanned the room for his mother - in the same seat of the gallery she'd been the past two days as they'd sat through witness testimony and the reading of statements. The longer he listened to the prosecution, the more convinced he became that he would be setting up residence with his father soon enough.

The Chief Warlock stood, calling everyone to order. "We are in receipt of a sworn statement and will hear testimony from one additional witness," he announced. "We call on Mr Harry Potter."

Draco spun round to face his mother. She looked as perplexed as he felt. All heads turned to watch as the Saviour sauntered to the front of the room and sat down next to the fawning members of the court.

"Mr Potter," the Chief began, "the members have read your statement and have some questions for you. First, would you please briefly describe for us the course of events as outlined in the document you sent us.”

Potter nodded and faced the members to his right. "I had a somewhat unusual connection with Voldemort, and was able to see events transpire from his perspective - as though I were in his head. It was not a constant connection, but tended to occur during moments when Voldemort felt particularly strong emotions."

Draco's back stiffened. What was Potter talking about?

"And did you have occasion to see the defendant cast any Unforgivable Curses?"

Oh shit. Draco stared straight ahead and forced himself to maintain his composure.

"Yes."

Several witches gasped and Draco felt all eyes turn to him. His stomach lurched and his hands began to sweat. Still he did not look down. Surely Potter didn't -- He couldn't have -- What had he seen?

"Would you describe for us please the occasion or occasions under which this took place."

"On one occasion, I saw Voldemort direct Draco to Crucio a man - a Death Eater, I believe."

"And did Mr Malfoy resist?"

"To the best of his ability, yes, but Voldemort threatened to Crucio him instead. And prior to this, Voldemort had taken up residence in Malfoy Manor and had repeatedly threatened the lives of both of Draco's parents."

"In your opinion, Mr Potter, did Draco Malfoy have any choice?"

"We all have choices. But to resist Voldemort, Draco would surely have been tortured, possibly killed. His parents as well. And Voldemort would have tortured that man anyway, or asked someone else to do it for him. Draco did all he could to minimise the suffering."

"You and Mr Malfoy attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry together, correct?"

"We were in the same year at school, yes."

"Is it true that Mr Malfoy's father, Lucius Malfoy, attempted to kill you?"

"Yes. Several times."

"Would you consider Draco Malfoy your enemy?"

"No, I wouldn't say we are enemies. But we're not friends."

"Is it accurate to say that you don't like each other?"

"Yes."

"Then why, Mr Potter, are you testifying here today?"

"Because, other than Draco and Voldemort, I believe I am the only one who knows the truth about what happened that day." Potter looked at Draco before adding, "And enough innocent people have been hurt by Voldemort. I believe it's time to move forward and to stop blaming people for who their parents are and start judging people by their own actions."

"But we heard testimony that Mr Malfoy let Death Eaters into your school."

"Yes, he did."

"And his actions nearly caused the death of two of your classmates?"

"Yes."

"And you still consider him to be innocent?"

Again Potter met Draco's eyes. "Innocent?" Potter said. "No. I doubt any of us is innocent any more, are we?" He turned back to the old wizard. "But Draco Malfoy - however caught up his father was in Voldemort's inner circle, and however Voldemort used him to advance his cause - was a victim. He is not a killer and he does not take pleasure from torturing others."

The Chief Warlock frowned and fidgeted in his seat. When he spoke again, Draco sensed his irritation. "But Mr Malfoy has wronged you in the past, has he not?"

"He has, yes, but I hardly believe childhood tricks and schoolboy rivalry are to be brought before the Wizengamot any more than my own use of under-aged magic should have been years ago."

Several faces hardened and Draco willed Potter to just shut up already.

"The distinguished panel of witches and wizards agreed at that time," Potter continued, "and I have no reason to believe you would rule differently now."

Expressions softened as Potter inexplicably managed to win them back. Stunned by Potter's ability to work the crowd, Draco wondered if he'd underestimated him all these years.

"Do you have anything else to add?"

"Yes."

Merlin help me, Draco thought. Less is more, Potter. Just quit while you're ahead. This was Draco's life on the line, not Potter's, and he'd like to keep it, thanks.

"When my friends and I were captured and taken to Malfoy Manor, Draco was asked to identify me. I have no doubt he knew exactly who I was, and yet - surrounded by Death Eaters and encouraged to acknowledge the fact by his father and his aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange - he denied it."

"He told them it wasn't you?"

"No. That would have been suicide, as it would have been too easy to prove otherwise. But he said he didn't know if I was Harry Potter. That bought us time and saved our lives. As a result, I was able to escape and eventually destroy Voldemort."

"So you're saying he's a war hero?"

"No." Potter's gaze once again rested on Draco. "But he played his part. He did what he could."

"Thank you, Mr Potter."

Potter rose from his seat and left without so much as a backwards glance. By the time the Chief recessed for the Wizengamot to deliberate, Potter was gone.

Draco's hands shook again as he entered the courtroom for the final sentencing.

"Draco Malfoy, the Wizengamot finds you guilty of crimes against Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and against two of its students," he began. "However, after careful consideration of the circumstances under which you acted, we have concluded that your incarceration would serve no public good. Rather, we sentence you to community service at Hogwarts where you will make restitution directly to the school by helping to repair the damage."

Draco released a breath. No prison.

"You will report to Minerva McGonagall, nine o'clock Monday next, for your assignment. You will work until the school is ready to reopen."

A stunned Draco exited the courtroom a free man. He would not be going to prison. And fuck if it wasn't all thanks to Harry Potter.

~ * ~ * ~

"Why are you here?" Malfoy asked as Harry approached the wall where he‘d been assigned to work.

Harry shrugged. "Just wanted to help." Truth was he needed something to occupy his time while Ron and Ginny grieved with their family and Hermione tried to restore her parents' memories.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Saint Potter."

"Don't call me that." Harry thought about all that he'd done during the war, all the people he hadn't saved, and all the people that were dead because he took too long to find the Horcruxes. "I'm no saint."

"No, you're not." Draco turned back to the work he'd been assigned. "But everyone else seems to think you are."

"And you don't." There was something oddly comforting about that.

"I've already said as much."

"I doubt everyone believes I'm saint." Malfoy shot him a look that begged to differ. "And if they do, they're sorely mistaken." He turned away from Malfoy's gaze and busied himself spelling away debris.

A few minutes of silence passed and Harry began to relax into his task.

"So where are your hordes of adoring fans?"

Harry groaned. He hoped the attention would die down soon. McGonagall had extra security ready to go come September, earlier if word got out that Harry was working there over the summer.

"And your sidekicks. I'm surprised to see you without Granger and Weasley trailing along."

Harry had thought something similar in sixth year every time he saw Malfoy without Crabbe and Goyle. "They're with their families." He tried not to sound resentful. After all, Ron had lost a brother, and Hermione's attempts to restore her parents' memories weren't going well.

Harry expected Malfoy would press for more, but he appeared to change his mind. Instead, he smirked and said, "Ah, not as saintly as the Chosen One, then."

"No," Harry said, a bit thrown by Malfoy's apparent teasing, "I suppose not."

Malfoy laughed. There was a sound Harry had only ever heard accompanied with malice and at his own expense. He gave Malfoy a companionable shove with his shoulder as he wondered how the world had suddenly got turned upside down.

~ * ~ * ~

"You don't need to go back, Draco. You could finish your studies at another school."

"I know, Mother." They'd been over this several times. He'd put forward the same arguments to Potter, but the idiot had been unrelenting. He repeated Potter’s words now to her. "It just wouldn't feel right to finish my schooling somewhere else. Besides, I did all that work rebuilding the place, and I'd like to spend some time enjoying it."

As Draco looked ahead to his final year at Hogwarts, he remained confused by the tentative … whatever it was he and Potter now had. They weren't friends, probably never would be, but they had reached an understanding of sorts. It helped, he supposed, that none of their friends had returned to help with the rebuild. Not that Draco would have either, had he not been ordered to, but the lack of Gryffindorks had surprised him. Potter had made excuses for all of them, but in the end, Draco figured there just wasn't enough glory in doing something so menial.

He didn't like the prospect of going back to their old roles of hating each other, but he wasn‘t sure they could avoid it. One thing he could avoid, however, was the Hogwarts Express.

After bidding farewell to his mother, Draco Apparated to Hogsmeade and walked the rest of the way up to the castle.

~ * ~ * ~

The Hogwarts Express chugged its way along to Scotland and the trio found themselves catching up on summer events.

"Listen, mate," Ron interrupted Harry, "I get that you spent the whole summer stuck with the Ferret, but must you torture us with stories about him?"

"What?" Harry bit back a retort, reminding Ron that he'd been talking nearly non-stop since they got on the train.

"I think it's good that they've become friends," Hermione argued. "It'll be good for everyone. A way to show people that everyone can move beyond their past."

"Friends?" Ron looked ready to throw up at the prospect. "Harry and Malfoy can't be friends."

"But they are," she insisted. "Aren't you, Harry?"

Were they? He couldn't really say. Strange that Harry had thought of Ron as his friend after knowing him less than a day, yet he'd worked with Malfoy for nearly two months. They definitely didn't hate each other any more, but their old labels remained.

"Yeah," he said, deciding it was time to toss away his lingering doubts. "I suppose we are."

Ron didn't speak for the rest of the train ride.

~ * ~ * ~

It had been strange entering the castle alone, but his early arrival gave Draco a chance to get settled before the masses arrived.

Slytherin House was quiet, with Draco and Pansy being the only ones of their year returning to finish their studies.

"I still think it's weird that you and Potter are friends now."

"We're not friends."

"You spent most of the summer together and didn't kill each other," she pointed out.

Pansy had a flair for the dramatic, to be sure. "I've never killed anyone."

"But he nearly killed you before."

Draco cringed. He still had the scars, however faint. They'd been a constant reminder of how reckless Harry was back then. "That was an accident. He didn't know what the spell did."

Pansy threw her arms up in the air. "See? You're defending him."

But he hadn't known. Even as Harry had offered an apology and explanation at the beginning of the summer, Draco remembered. Through the haze of pain and the soothing hum of Snape's spell, Draco had known that Harry was scared. Not afraid of getting into trouble, which is what Draco had told everyone back then, but scared for Draco. And disgusted with himself.

"I'm not defending him; I'm just stating fact." Even if it had taken this long for Draco to admit it. "Can we change the subject now?"

"No." Pansy played with the hem of her sleeve. "Are you going to leave me now that you're friends with him?"

Oh. "Of course not. We Slytherins have to stick together. Besides, I doubt the Chosen One will want to spend any time with me now that all his friends are returning." Draco hadn't expected that fact to bother him so much. He'd known all along Harry had only been spending time with him because Weasley and Granger weren't there. That was why he'd refused to consider Harry a friend. Which made his disappointment so difficult to accept.

"And his girlfriend. Can't forget her."

Would that he could. Her impending return bothered Draco the most, even if they had broken up. "They aren't together any more."

"Seriously?" Pansy asked, sounding positively thrilled. "The Golden Couple split up?" She rubbed her hands together. "Did the tart sleep with someone else? I bet it was Longbottom! He played quite the hero last year, and she was forever fawning over him."

Draco laughed. He'd thought the same thing when Harry had told him. "Not according to Harry, she didn't."

"Well, of course he'd say that. Gryffindor loyalty and all that."

"No, apparently they'd split up before the war. Then they tried to pick up where they left off and it didn't work out."

"Because she was sleeping with Longbottom."

Draco chuckled. "I doubt anyone would mess with the Chosen One's girlfriend - especially another Gryffindor."

"Fair point."

Draco chuckled. "Don't look so disappointed."

"I could use some juicy gossip to get me through this day."

"Harry was adamant that no one had cheated on anyone. But I did sense there was more to it, something he wasn't willing to tell me."

"Well, do tell if Harry gives you some sordid story."

"I'll be sure to keep the details to myself, lest you sully the reputation of the Saviour."

"And you claim you're not friends."

"We're acquaintances."

"You've been acquaintances for years. Hell, I'm his acquaintance, but you won't see us spending any time together."

"You did try to hand him over to the Dark Lord."

"Details." She waved his words off. "Promise me you won't ditch me for your acquaintance every chance you get. I'd been counting on spending time with you since none of our friends came back."

"You'll make new friends."

"Right. Because everyone wants to be friends with the girl who tried to hand over Harry Potter."

A valid point. Being a Slytherin at Hogwarts was bad enough without that hanging over your head. "I'll always be here for you."

"Promise?"

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "I promise."

As they walked into the Great Hall, Pansy's elbow caught him in the ribs. "What was that for?" he asked.

She motioned to the Gryffindor table where Ginny Weasley talked animatedly, and very close to, Neville Longbottom. "Told you," she whispered. Draco scanned to where Potter sat, looking utterly unconcerned. Relief washed over Draco and the knot in his stomach loosened.

Oh, shit,. He'd tried so hard not to get close to Harry, not to care. What have I got myself into?

~ * ~ * ~

"Oh look, Harry, it's your new friend." Apparently Ron was talking to him again.

Harry watched Draco enter the room with Parkinson on his arm. His shoulders tensed. He'd heard she was returning, but that hadn't made seeing her any easier. He turned his attention back to the sorting hat. Would they just get on with the sorting already?

"Aren't you going to welcome him back?" Ron taunted.

"Shut up."

"What's the matter, Harry? Can't stand to see him in his Slytherin glory?"

"Grow up, Ron," Hermione said. "I think Parkinson might be the problem."

"Oh, right. Malfoy's girlfriend. The one who wanted to toss you over to the dark side. Great friend you have there."

Harry was about to leave - forget the sorting and the feast altogether - when McGonagall led the new first years in.

"Look at her hanging all over him," Ron said halfway through the meal.

Harry looked over and Parkinson was, indeed, clinging to Draco. His stomach twisted at the sight. Draco must have been lying when he told Harry they weren't together. He sipped his pumpkin juice in an effort to quell the churning in his gut.

"Makes you wonder what she's whispering in his ear."

Excellent. Harry slammed his cup down on the table and stood up. As he stormed out the door, he heard Ron's incredulous voice crying out that he'd miss pudding.

Harry spelled his drapes shut and went to sleep without talking to Ron. The next morning he left for breakfast on his own, not ready to deal with more of Ron's commentary.

Unfortunately, that didn't prevent Parkinson from continuing her assault of Draco's person. Admittedly she wasn't clinging with the conviction she had the prior night, but she kept touching him.

Harry ate his food quickly, decided lunch might be best taken in the kitchens, and spared a glare in Parkinson's direction as he left the Great Hall. A few minutes later, as he sat by the Black Lake, he heard footsteps approach.

"Potter!" He took a calming breath and turned around, knowing their first interaction had to happen eventually.

"What do you want, Parkinson?"

"Good day to you too."

Where was Hermione and her right hook when you needed her? "Just say what you're going to say and go away."

"My, my. This isn't the Potter I heard about all summer."

Harry covered his surprise that Draco had spoken of him, presumably in a positive way. "What are you even doing here, Parkinson?"

"It's my school, too."

"Why didn't you take the lead from all your Slytherin brethren and just go away?"

"Is that what you want Draco to do?"

"No, of course not."

"Well, he's one of my Slytherin brethren too." She narrowed her eyes. "Or had you conveniently forgotten that?"

Harry ran his hand through his hair, barely stopping himself pulling it out. "I have not forgotten anything about Draco. It is you I don't like. And, frankly, I'm surprised you wanted to come back here."

She smiled. "I'm just full of surprises."

I bet you are. "Is there a point to this conversation? Because I'd like you to get to it and then get out of my face."

"I thought you and Draco had become friends."

"And?"

"And you're not acting like a friend. You haven't so much as said hello."

"Why do you care? You don't even like me."

"No, I don't, but I do like Draco. And much as it pains me to admit this, he seems to think you've managed to get over your past." Her hard features softened slightly as she talked about Draco. "He'll never admit it, and I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I believe he values your friendship. Not that I understand, and I don't give a toss about you, but Draco matters to me. And if you hurt him, I don't care who you are. You'll have to deal with me." And she turned on her heels and left.

~ * ~ * ~

Draco nearly ran into Harry on his way out the door. Pansy had finally given him some breathing space and he wanted to walk the grounds.

"Hey," Harry said, as though he hadn't completely ignored Draco up to this point. "How was your first night back?"

Draco looked around for the usual Gryffindor hangers-on and saw none. "Oh, is it safe to talk to me now that no one is watching?"

"Draco --"

"Mustn't let anyone see you associating with me."

"It's not like that."

"Looks that way to me," he said. "Last night I thought it might have been too much for you, seeing your supposed ex-girlfriend hanging all over someone else --"

"Hanging?" Harry interrupted. "If anyone was hanging all over someone, it was Parkinson hanging all over you. Strange. I thought you said you'd broken up."

Why would that matter to Harry? "No, I said we weren't together."

"Semantics. Stop being such a Slytherin." Harry flailed his arms and it was all Draco could do not to laugh. "It sure doesn't look like you're not together to me."

"Well we aren't. And we never were."

"What? You were --"

"It was for show."

Harry squinted and shook his head. "What the hell for?"

"You wouldn't understand. It's all about status, family, friends." He had appearances to maintain. For his father, teachers, other students. "But none of that matters any more." Draco no longer had to hide who he was or jockey for status. In fact, it all seemed rather petty in hindsight.

"You might want to inform Parkinson of that," Harry said. "Because from where I sat, it looked like she wanted to crawl inside you."

Draco cringed. She had been ridiculously clingy. He hoped that would ease over time. "Did you ever consider that she might be nervous about coming back?"

"Then why bother?"

Harry's words hit him like a slap. "She's got the right to an education too."

"Yeah, but why here?"

Draco's blood began to boil. "Because Hogwarts is for all of us."

"Whatever. Can we change the topic?"

"Sure," Draco agreed. "The Weaselette and Longbottom look cosy."

Harry shrugged. "They seem happy."

"I cannot believe you are taking this so well."

"I told you we split up on good terms. Why wouldn't I want her happy? Neville too."

"But you two were the Golden Couple. Everyone expected you to get married and have a dozen ginger kids."

Harry sighed wearily. "I don't want to get into it right now."

"With me, you mean."

"With anyone," Harry corrected. "Let's just say it's not in the cards for me."

Draco let the conversation drop. For now.

~ * ~ * ~

"If you're as serious about forgiveness and fresh starts as you claim, why haven't you forgiven Pansy?"

Harry's face burned. They'd had a good day so far, having taken advantage of the freedom afforded eighth years and travelled to Hogsmeade to pick up some supplies and otherwise get away for the day. Harry had been inexplicably pleased when Draco had suggested the trip.

Now that Draco had mentioned Parkinson's name, Harry's good mood crumbled. Didn't she get enough of Draco's time without encroaching on Harry's?

"Well?" Draco interrupted his train of thought before Harry could consider his own reaction.

"I haven't said or done anything to Parkinson since she came back."

"Exactly."

"What do you expect? For us to become friends? Because that's not going to happen."

"Well … no, I suppose not." They walked towards the school in silence. "But stranger things have happened." Harry looked at him incredulously. "Take us for instance."

"You didn't offer me up to Voldemort," Harry said. "In fact, you told everyone you didn't know who I was. And you knew. I saw it in your eyes."

Draco scowled. "My father tried to kill you."

"But you," Harry countered, "are not your father."

Harry stopped walking and waited for Draco to turn round to face him. Draco rolled his eyes at Harry and began walking again. "That’s a good thing, by the way," Harry added.

"You're not off the hook, Potter," Draco called over his shoulder. "Pansy deserves a second chance. She was only saying what so many people were thinking."

Harry quickened his pace to catch up. "I know." But that didn't mean he had to forgive her. Or like her.

~ * ~ * ~

Pansy sighed dramatically. "You‘re staring again."

Draco glared at her. "I am not staring."

Pansy snorted. "Yes, you are. You've been doing that a lot lately."

"No, I haven't."

"Yeah, you have. So what did Potter do now to piss you off?"

"What?" Draco dropped what was left of his toast and watched the plate vanish. "He didn't piss me off."

"Come to think of it, you don't seem to be pissed off. Just …" Pansy looked intently at Draco. "Oh, hell no, Draco!"

"What?"

"Do not tell me you're falling for Potter."

Draco choked on his juice, which gave him an excuse and opportunity to formulate a response. He considered lying outright, but Pansy would see right through that. "Harry is straight. Had a girlfriend and everything."

"You had a girlfriend too."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Right."

"Potter has always been obsessed with you. Some times more than others."

Draco recalled sixth year and sneered. "Trying to catch me doing something for the Dark Lord isn't the same thing as obsessing over me."

"I don't know, Draco. The two of you have always been … volatile."

"Yes, well, enemies and all that."

"You're not enemies any more. Who knows? It might make for interesting times in the bedroom."

Fuck. She really needed to stop. "Why are we having this conversation? You don't even like Potter." Draco didn't need to be thinking about Harry that way. Not that he didn't already, but he didn't need Pansy adding fuel to the fire. "The man is straight. We're friends now. That's all."

"And you're fine with that."

Not really. But what could he do about it? He wasn't about to risk what he had. "Of course I am."

"Whatever you say, Draco."

~ * ~ * ~

"Are you coming with us?" Hermione asked.

"No, I'm going to visit Teddy today."

"Oh, come on, Harry," Ron whined. "You can't leave me to shop with them on my own."

Harry chuckled. Hermione, Ginny and Luna had decided to do some Christmas shopping before the holidays and since the seventh years still had to remain at the school except for scheduled trips, this would be the last Hogsmeade weekend to go. Somehow Ron had got roped into joining them and fully expected Harry to go along. Harry had contacted Andromeda immediately upon learning of this.

"Sorry, mate, I promised Andromeda."

He walked to the edge of the grounds with the rest of them while Ron moaned about being dragged into clothes and book stores, and tried to convince Harry to leave early and join them before they had to head back. Leaving a disgruntled Ron behind, he Apparated to Andromeda's house, arriving a little ahead of schedule.

He heard Teddy's laughter coming from the back of the house, and he made his way around to the conservatory.

What he saw stopped him in his tracks. The glass-enclosed room, usually about nine by nine feet, was currently enlarged to be the size of the entire back yard on Private Drive, and contained a replica of a garden. Draco was playing with Teddy, making faces and peeking out of hiding spots, causing Teddy to giggle like mad. Harry knew all too well how infectious Teddy's laughter could be, and was unsurprised to see Draco laughing along with the boy. What did surprise Harry was his own reaction to the sight. He found himself grinning widely, torn between wanting to join them and wanting to stand back and not disturb the scene.

The decision was made for him when Andromeda arrived. "Harry! How lovely to see you." She crossed the room, opened the door, and motioned him inside.

Harry entered the conservatory and instantly felt like he‘d walked into a yard on a warm summer‘s day. Magic still never ceased to amaze him. "Sorry for arriving early. I didn't realise you'd have company."

"Oh, nonsense, Harry. You're family too. Come join us. Narcissa‘s just inside; she‘ll be out in a moment."

She flitted off back into the house, and Harry joined Draco. "You two looked like you were having fun," he teased. He reached for Teddy's cheek and tickled the boy, earning himself a giggle.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Breathe a word of this to anyone and you're dead."

Harry laughed. "You think you can kill the Boy Who Lived?"

"Dead. In your sleep. No one would know what happened. I have my ways."

"Relax," he chuckled. "Your secret is safe with me. No one need ever know you have a heart."

"Nice, Potter."

Harry wiggled a finger in front of Teddy's hand and his little fingers gripped it. "Ooh, you're a strong one, aren't you?" Teddy giggled some more and Harry caught Draco's mouth twitch. "He's impossible to resist with that laughter, isn't he?"

"Well, he has Black blood, so naturally he's irresistible."

Harry rolled his eyes. "So, you fancy yourself irresistible, do you?"

"But of course." Draco waved a finger towards Teddy, but the boy's grip on Harry remained firm. "You remember that, Theodore. We Blacks come from a long line of strongly desired wizards and witches. Take care to be sure you find the one who is right for you." He tapped Teddy on the chest. "You'll know it right here."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. "Is that what you're doing?" Harry asked, not really thinking about what he was asking. "Trying to find the right one?"

Draco glanced up through the fringe that had fallen over his face. Harry's breath caught as the sunlight reflected off the grey eyes. "Aren't we all?"

"Well, hello Mr Potter." Narcissa Malfoy walked into the magical garden more relaxed that Harry had ever seen her, wearing a casual dress in a shade of blue that perfectly accentuated her eyes. "My sister said you were here. I'm afraid that we have interfered with your plans. Draco mentioned he hadn‘t seen young Theodore lately, so we decided to visit."

"A welcome surprise, Cissa." Andromeda returned with enough sandwiches, cakes, and biscuits to feed an erumpent herd. "Tuck in everyone," Andromeda told them before extracting Harry‘s finger from Teddy‘s grip and taking the little one in hand. "I've got to change Teddy, so I'll be right back."

Harry reached for a sandwich, glad of something to do and rather hungry.

"I understand from my sister that you take your responsibilities as godfather seriously," Narcissa said.

"I do. I never really got to know my own godfather, but for the short time Sirius was in my life, I felt …" Harry hesitated. He‘d felt loved - truly loved for the first time. That unconditional kind of love that most people take for granted. And it had been torn away from him so soon after he‘d found it. "I felt a connection to my parents that I couldn‘t get from anyone else."

"And you spend quite a lot of time with Theodore."

Harry had the uneasy feeling he was being sized up. He took a bite of his sandwich and washed it down with some water. "Not as much as I'd like, but I hope that will change when school is finished."

Narcissa nodded but said no more.

Harry hadn't given much thought to the connection of Teddy to the Malfoys before, but now that the sisters had set aside their differences, it stood to reason that Narcissa would take more than a passing interest in him.

"I'm glad Teddy has family in his life," Harry found himself saying. "Family that cares about him," he amended. "But I also intend to be here for him, whenever and for however long he needs me."

Draco looked vaguely amused. Harry shot him a glare, but that only made him grin more.

"I don‘t know how many times I have to say this," Andromeda said, bringing a clean and squirmy Teddy back to join them. "You are family, Harry. Not only because of Teddy, but Sirius too. You‘re a Black, even if not by blood, like it or not."

Harry thought of Walburga and Grimmauld Place. Of Sirius‘ desire to separate himself from his own upbringing. Of Andromeda‘s fate when the family she‘d known had turned their backs on her. It must have been awful for her to have family yet not be able to connect with them. To have them toss her aside like an old rag. And yet here she was, accepting her heritage and welcoming Harry into the fold.

He considered Narcissa and wondered how close the sisters had been growing up. Perhaps it hadn't been her desire to shut her sister out of her life. She hadn't had to reach out to Andromeda - they hadn't spoken in years, after all - but she had. And she'd risked her own life for her son, and Harry had no doubt she'd have gladly traded her own for Draco's, just like Lily had done for Harry.

He reached for the restless Teddy and smiled as he wrapped his arms around Harry‘s neck. "I think I would like that." Andromeda squeezed his hand. "Even if Sirius haunts me for saying so."

For the first time in his life, Harry heard Narcissa Malfoy laugh.

"Speaking of being a Black," Andromeda said, "what did you rustle up for Draco when he came of age?"

"Draco has an affinity for potions, so we managed to find a rather significant potions book," Narcissa said. "I daresay he's already managed to get some use out of it."

"It's brilliant," Draco agreed, looking like a child that just received the best gift ever for Christmas.

Harry couldn't understand why Draco would be so pleased about receiving a book. He thought about the watch he got from the Weasleys and wondered, with all their money, why the Malfoys would opt for a book.

Confusion must have been obvious on his face. Draco explained. "It's a Black family tradition, when a witch or wizard comes of age, to gift them with something that reflects their own personality and provides a connection to the family. In my case, I had been told for years that my interest in potions rivalled that of an ancestor of mine who had been a famous potions master. The book my family gave me was a potions tome that once belonged to him, and included his own notes and a series of potions he‘d created himself. Some that went on to become part of other texts on the subject."

When Harry had used the Half-Blood Prince's text, he'd felt a connection to the wizard that had made the notes, and he didn't even know who he was at the time. And for a brief moment in time, when he'd thought the Prince might have been his dad, he'd felt that link even more. "That's fantastic,” Harry agreed.

~ * ~ * ~

Draco wrung his hands, wondering if this was over the top. He knew Harry would appreciate it, but still.

"All right, Malfoy, what did you want?" Harry said, hair more out of place than usual and a scowl on his face that made him look more like a pouting child than a grumpy adult.

Draco chuckled. "My, you really aren't a morning person, are you?"

"It's nearly the Christmas holidays, Draco. Starting tomorrow, I'll be staying with a house full of Weasleys for a week. We're done classes and today was my last chance to get a good lie in."

Draco ignored the twinge of irritation he felt at the thought of Harry spending a week with his ex-girlfriend probably hanging all over him. "It's nine o'clock, Potter. It's not exactly early."

Harry wrapped his cloak around him more tightly as they walked out the front doors. "This better be good."

Draco ignored the fluttering in his stomach. "It will be."

They walked to the edge of the school grounds, and Draco took Harry's arm and Apparated them to a place he‘d last been on his seventeenth birthday. That day had been a reprieve from the ever-present darkness in their lives, and Draco had needed that as much as anything that day. The white snow blanketing the trees today contrasted the green of the forest in June.

"It's freezing here!"

Draco laughed. "We're in the Highlands in December, Potter. Naturally it is cold." He waved his wand and cast a Warming Charm over them. "Better?"

"I suppose." Harry rubbed his hands along his arms. "Are we going to be here long?"

Draco waved his wand and a blanket materialised, covering the ground in the centre of the clearing. He pushed Harry towards it. "Just sit down."

Harry might have argued, but one look at Draco and he made his way to the blanket, looking all the while like a petulant child. "You know, if you don't want your gift, we can go back."

Looking duly chastised, Harry mumbled something about gifts in the afternoon being just as good as gifts in the morning. "Where are we?"

Draco sat down beside Harry and pulled out a gift-wrapped box. "Glencoe. The Blacks owned property here, this one included, for generations. It no longer belongs to them, but there's a history here that's important to our family."

"And you brought me here?"

"I did. You're part of the Black family, remember?"

"Draco, you don't have to --"

"Shut up and open your gift."

Harry opened his mouth but Draco stopped him by shoving the box into his hand. His mouth went dry and his stomach churned. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. What had he been thinking?

Harry unwrapped the gift and pulled the contents out of the box, his eyes wide. "A Pensieve?" he asked. "But these are so expensive."

Draco waved his hand in Harry's direction. "Please. I have more money than I could spend in a lifetime," he said. "Besides, it’s the story that's of importance here."

Harry's eyes, like a child's filled with wonder, caught Draco's in their gaze. "Tell me."

"The surname Potter was taken on by those who made pots and bowls and other serving or holding vessels. In the case of the magical world, the name was adopted by craftsmen skilled in producing magical receptacles, such as containers for potions and their ingredients, and other, more valuable items such as Pensieves." Harry ran his fingers along the runes and other carvings on the surface of the stone basin. "This one was carved by William Potter in the year 1623."

"Who was William Potter?" Harry asked.

Draco smiled. "I don't have the direct lineage worked out, and there were a couple of dodgy sources I have to verify, but it would appear that he is your ancestor from about nine generations back."

Harry's eyes widened. "How did you get this?"

Draco grinned. "I have my sources."

Harry placed the Pensieve gently on the table and ran his fingers along the designs once more. "You did this for me?" he asked.

Draco nodded. "Remember that day at Andromeda's when we were talking about the potions book I have, and the Black tradition for a seventeenth birthday? I thought about it. And the fact that your parents weren't able to carry on their own family traditions. And that Sirius was your godfather. And I thought I would do what Sirius wasn't able to." Would Harry think it was too much?

"But you're not a Black - not really - so I had to come up with something for a Potter. So I did this research, and came up with some details, and I thought I would get you something to do with a Potter, any Potter." He was rambling, he knew, but he was nervous. "But then I had a few people check birth and death records and such, hoping that I could link to something in your own family. And then I thought about the things you've told me, and how important Pensieves have been for you, and I just knew I had to get you one." He took a deep breath. "I hope you like it."

Harry beamed. "I love it."

"I hope you don't think it's too presumptuous of me," Draco continued. "I mean we've only recently become friends and I wouldn't want --"

Harry's lips crushed Draco's and the two of them nearly toppled over. Draco's eyes widened and he froze, stunned, unable to react.

Harry pulled away. "Oh, God. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that." He looked horrified. "It's just … well, this gift is so incredible and we've been getting on so well and I started thinking about … Never mind. I'm sorry. Please let's forget this ever happened. I'm so, so --"

Draco stopped the flow of words spewing forth with a finger to Harry's lips. "If you don't do that again, Potter, and give me the chance to properly reciprocate, I may have to hex you."

Harry frowned and Draco gave up waiting. He ran his thumb over Harry's lips, then down his jaw and lifted Harry's chin. He leaned in close and said, "Now, shall we try that again?" Draco kissed him. A soft, tentative brushing of the lips followed by a slow and tender build-up. Perfect.

Harry's green eyes were dazed as he looked at Draco. "Thank you."

Draco tilted his head and smiled. "For the gift or the kiss?" he asked, heart hammering in his chest.

Harry closed the distance between them, crooked grin on his face, and said, "Let's try that again and then I'll tell you."

Merlin, Harry's raspy voice made Draco's skin tingle. Their second proper kiss was less tentative but no less perfect. Harry took Draco's face in his hands and nipped at Draco's lips. Mmm. Why hadn't they done this before? Harry's tongue peeked out and licked along Draco's lips and Draco parted them in invitation. Harry dove in with typical Gryffindor zeal and Draco responded in kind, their tongues exploring, tasting, marking each other.

They parted and Draco whimpered, unwilling to let Harry go just yet.

"Both," Harry said. "Definitely both."

As they readied themselves to return to Hogwarts an hour later, Draco said, "You know what this means, right?"

Harry considered the question before responding. "That Ron is going to have a heart attack?"

Draco leaned down and nibbled on Harry's ear. "Perhaps, but that's not what I meant."

"What then?"

"Now you have to spend time with Pansy."

Harry groaned. "That was your plan all along, wasn't it? Draco Malfoy, Master Manipulator."

"I'm a Slytherin, remember? It's what we do." He grabbed Harry's hand to Apparate them. "Can't break tradition now."

~ FIN ~

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