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“Are you sure about this, Draco?”

“Yes, Pansy, for the last time. I have a lot of apologising to do and I’m starting with Granger.”

Grumbling softly, Pansy followed behind Draco as he made his way along the train. He was steadfastly ignoring the scores of people pointing at him as he passed their compartments. He’d been expecting this, of course he had. Everyone knew his role in the battle, but not everyone knew what had actually happened after Potter had defeated The Dark Lord.

“Of course they’re in the last bloody compartment,” Pansy muttered as Draco came to a halt in front of her.

“Will you stop grumbling,” Draco demanded, whirling around to face her. “I don’t know why you’ve come with me if you’re that bothered!”

“You’re my best friend,” Pansy replied, a hurt tone becoming evident in her voice. “I’ve come to give you moral support.”

Draco snorted. “Yeah, right,” he said. “You just want to see what’s going to happen.”

“Maybe that too,” Pansy conceded with a slight shrug. “Go on then. They’re staring at you… in fact, Potter looks like he wants to kill you.”

Draco turned again and surveyed the compartment full of Gryffindors that were glaring at him and Pansy. “Well. That’s a chance I’ll have to take,” he sighed. “I need to do this, Pansy. I’m fed up of following in my father’s footsteps. Last year, well, the last two years really, were a wake up.”

Pansy sighed and looked down at her feet. “I know,” she said softly. “And I know I should apologise too, but… you know.”

“You can do it if you really want to,” Draco replied, his hand on the compartment door. “I’m going in now.”

Pansy looked up again, her eyes wide as she spotted Harry get to his feet, wand drawn.

Draco pushed the door open, sliding it along on it’s runners. “I don’t want trouble, Potter,” he said immediately, holding his hands up. “I…”

“We don’t want to hear anything you have to say, Malfoy,” Harry growled, wand still pointing at Draco. “Bugger off and get your own compartment.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Draco said, eyeing Harry’s wand warily. “You might not want to hear what I have to say, but I’m going to say it anyway.”

“No! Get out!” Harry replied, stepping forward before being stopped by Hermione, who had just stood up.

“Harry,” she said firmly. “Sit down.”

Harry, caught by surprise, did as he was told, though he didn’t put his wand away.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Hermione asked, turning to face the two Slytherins who were standing in the doorway. Her left arm was still extended towards Harry, as though she was telling a dog to stay.

“Granger… Hermione,” Draco started, correcting himself. “I want to apologise to you. For everything I have ever said to, or about, you. For everything you were put through at my home last year. It took me far longer than it should have to realise that my father was wrong about so, so many things.”

Hermione stared at him, surprised at the words that were spilling from his lips. “I…”

“No, I’m not finished,” Draco said quickly. “It’s no excuse for how I behaved towards you during our early years at Hogwarts, but I was misguided. I used to think that my father hung the moon, I looked up to him, wanted to be like him... but when I was given that chance, well, I realised how truly horrific an existence he had. It was nothing like I’d imagined, and I had no choice but to do all of those awful things that I did. I hated myself for it all. Putting the Imperius curse on Madam Rosmerta, cursing Katie Bell… poisoning Weasley,” his voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I wanted to attempt to make amends. This year is a fresh start for me, for all of us and I don’t want to make the same mistakes I did seven years ago.”

Hermione continued to stare at Draco, her mouth dropping open in surprise. “Uh… well,” she faltered. “Thank you, Malfoy. I appreciate the apology.”

Draco nodded, turning to face Ron. He took a breath. “Ron,” he said, the name coming to him easier than he thought it would. “I didn’t mean for you to drink that mead. I know that doesn’t make it any better, I shouldn’t have wanted anyone to drink it, but I was panicking. I thought… it doesn’t matter. I want to apologise to you too. For everything I’ve said about you and, especially, about your family. You’ve never deserved it, again, I was simply repeating everything I’d heard my father say without questioning it.” He stuck his hand out. “I would like to start again.”

Ron hesitated, glancing at Hermione before standing up and shaking Draco’s hand. “Er, thanks, Malfoy,” he said. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be your best friend, and I haven’t forgotten what you’ve said, but I am willing to try. I’m tired of fighting everyone and everything, I don’t want to carry on when we’re back at school.”

Pansy watched, her eyes still wide as Draco turned to Potter now. She’d managed to bite her tongue when Draco had shaken Weasley’s hand. She didn’t think Potter would be so willing to shake hands, given his reaction to Draco even entering the compartment.

“Potter,” Draco began, before shaking his head. “Harry. I…”

“Save it,” Harry muttered. “I’m not shaking your hand. I might have spoken at your trial, and I stand by what I said there, but that doesn’t mean I have any interest in anything you have to say.”

Draco stopped in his tracks. He frowned and glanced at Ron and Hermione in turn, though they both looked away. “But, I…”

“Are you deaf? I don’t want to hear it!” Harry said, glaring at Draco. “Now get out!”

Pansy reached forward and took Draco’s elbow. “Come on,” she said gently. “You’ve tried.” She pulled him out of the compartment backwards, pushing him ahead of her into the corridor. “Sorry,” she said quietly, nodding at Ron and Hermione as she shut the door behind her.

“What did I do wrong, Pansy?” Draco sighed as he felt her prodding him to move. He began to walk back along the train, heading for the compartment he’d left his trunk in. “Was I not sincere enough?”

“Well I thought you were,” Pansy said, shrugging. “The Weasel shook your hand, so he must have thought you sounded sincere.”

“Then what’s wrong with Potter?” Draco asked, frowning again as he pushed the door to their compartment open. “Why wouldn’t he let me speak?”

Pansy sighed, sitting down. “I don’t know,” she said, honestly. “He’s obviously not ready to move on. Maybe you can try again another day, though Merlin knows why you would want to, after that.”

“It’s not a fresh start if I’m arguing with him, is it?” Draco replied. “Nothing would have changed, and what’s the point of that?”

“Alright, alright,” Pansy said, quickly. “I’d give him a couple of days to cool down. Maybe Granger and Weasley will be able to make him listen to you.”

“I can’t believe you shook his hand!” Harry exclaimed, turning to Ron. “Why would you do that?”

“I’ve had enough fighting in the last year to last a lifetime, mate,” Ron sighed. “I’m never going to like the git, but I can be civil to him if he’s serious about making amends.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Ron?” Harry asked, slumping back against the seat. “You’re the one who punched him twice a few months ago! And now you’re shaking his hand!”

“Honestly, Harry,” Hermione started. “Don’t you think it’s time to let it go? I mean, this is our final year at Hogwarts - a Hogwarts I wasn’t sure I’d be returning to after what happened last year - don’t you want to make it a good one?”

“Making it good doesn’t mean I have to be friends with Malfoy,” Harry muttered, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at the window.

Hermione and Ron shared a look and sighed. They had a feeling it would be a long year if Harry insisted on holding this grudge.

“I’m going to go for a walk,” Hermione said, standing up. “I want to see if I can find Luna.”

“Alright,” Ron said, looking up at her. “I’ll stay here with Harry.”

Hermione nodded, opening the door. ‘Talk to him,’ she mouthed. Then she was gone, the door sliding shut behind her.

Ron took a deep breath and turned back to Harry. “So what’s the real reason you don’t want to listen to his apology?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, frowning as he looked back at Ron.

“Well, you have to have a reason for not wanting to listen to him,” Ron said. “He wasn’t being his usual self, maybe he really means what he’s saying?”

“Yeah? And what if he doesn’t?” Harry retorted. “He got pretty good at lying last year, didn’t he? Who’s to say he’s not doing it again?”

Ron opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again without saying anything. He had to admit that Harry had a point.

“See,” Harry said, triumphantly. “You have to admit it’s possible.”

“Well, maybe…” Ron said slowly. “But, Harry, what if he’s not lying? If people see you and Malfoy getting along, it’d work wonders for house unity.”

Harry snorted. “Since when have you cared about house unity? Wasn’t it you who told me that there wasn’t a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn’t in Slytherin?”

“Well, yeah, but…” Ron replied, frowning.

“But nothing. Maybe some of them aren’t so bad, but the ones in our year weren’t great, were they?” Harry said. “Forgive me for not wanting to become best friends with them.”

“No-one is asking you to become best friends with him, Harry!” Ron exclaimed. “But it wouldn’t hurt to be civil, would it?”

“I’m not doing it, Ron,” Harry replied flatly. He folded his arms again. “You can do what you want, but I’m not giving him the time of day.”

Ron sighed and tipped his head back against the seat. He knew it was pointless to try and change Harry’s mind right now.

Hermione walked along the train until she found the compartment that contained Draco and Pansy, along with a couple of other Slytherins. She paused at the door and knocked lightly.

Draco looked up in surprise. He nodded to her to let her know she could come in.

“I just wanted to say that I respect you for apologising like that,” Hermione said as she entered the compartment. “It was a bit of a surprise, but I’m willing to try and put the past behind us if you are. I’ll never agree with what you did, but… I do understand why you did it. Certain situations make us do things we don’t want to, I know that as much as anyone.” She paused. “Sorry about Harry.”

Draco blinked but then gave a small smile. “It’s okay,” he said. “To be honest, I was expecting all of you to act that way. I am one hundred percent, genuinely, trying to make amends for what I did. I’m not expecting an easy time when we get back to school. I’m prepared to take whatever is thrown my way.”

Hermione nodded. “Just… be aware that in Harry’s case, that might be some actual objects.”

Draco nodded too. “I know,” he said. “I hope he’ll listen to what I have to say one day.”

“I hope so,” Hermione said. “It would be nice to have a year without drama for once.”

“I never thought I would say this, but I agree with you, Granger,” Pansy spoke up from where she was sitting.

Hermione nodded again, smiling slightly at Pansy. “Well, I’ll leave you to it,” she said. “I’m looking for someone.” She stepped back out of the compartment and let the door shut behind her as she headed off down the train again.

Three weeks into their first term, the eighth year students were slowly finding their feet again when it came to actually being students. Their classes were much smaller than they had been prior to the battle, but none of the students felt that was a bad thing. Due to the fact that there weren’t as many students in the eighth year, they’d been given their own common room and dormitory to make way for the new intake of first years.

They weren’t as restricted as the lower students, mostly owing to the fact that they were all now of age and technically adults. They were free to leave the castle to go to Hogsmeade whenever they liked, although their attendance in classes was still compulsory as they were studying for their N.E.W.T.s.

Draco had thrown himself into his schoolwork. He’d kept his head down and got on with his work without antagonising a single student. Except Harry Potter, who was still steadfastly refusing to even speak to Draco, despite them now sharing a dormitory. Harry had made sure that his bed was at the opposite end of the dormitory from Draco’s and ignored every attempt that Draco made at conversation.

On the third Saturday of the term, most students had gone to Hogsmeade for the day but Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco remained in the castle. Harry and Ron had just not felt like walking into the village, while Hermione and Draco were studying together for their Advanced Potions class.

“Chess?” Ron suggested as he sat down in front of the fireplace in the common room. Hermione and Draco were sitting at the table in the far corner, books and pieces of parchment strewn about as they studied.

Harry, who was sitting opposite Ron, was glaring at Draco’s back. He was snapped out of his behaviour when Ron spoke. “Hmm? Oh. Yeah, go on then.”

Ron eyed Harry as he set the chess board up. “You still don’t want to give him a chance, then?”

“No! Look at him!” Harry retorted, glaring over at the table again.

“He’s not doing anything,” Ron frowned. “They’re just studying, there’s no harm in that.”

“I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, who are you and what have you done with Ron?” Harry replied, staring at Ron in disbelief. “That’s your girlfriend over there, aren’t you bothered?!”

“No,” Ron said firmly. “Harry, they’re just studying Advanced Potions. There’s a reason they haven’t asked either you or me to study with them.”

Harry frowned, looking over at the table again. “I don’t trust him, Ron,” he said. “He fooled everyone in sixth year, he’s not doing it again.”

“Harry, if you hate him so much, why did you speak up for him at his trial?” Ron asked in exasperation. “You could have had him sent to Azkaban, but you didn’t.”

Harry flushed and looked away. “Maybe I was wrong,” he said. “I was hardly thinking straight after the battle.”

Ron shook his head. “You know as well as I do that he didn’t deserve prison,” he said. “He’s not an evil mastermind.”

Harry stood up abruptly. “I’m going for a walk,” he said, making his way to the door without waiting for acknowledgment from Ron.

Ron watched him go, open-mouthed.

“What happened?” Hermione asked, looking up from her book as the door to the common room banged shut.

Draco looked over his shoulder at Ron, chewing his lip gently. He’d heard every word Harry had said.

Ron sighed and sat back against his chair. “Same as usual,” he said. “We were going to play chess.”

Draco pushed himself away from the table. “I’m going to talk to him,” he said.

Hermione looked at him in surprise. “You can’t!”

“What do you mean, I can’t?” Draco asked, frowning. “I am perfectly capable of going to talk to him.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Hermione said hurriedly. “It’s best to leave him when he’s in a mood like that.”

Draco shook his head. “I’ve done enough of leaving him,” he said. “I’m going to make him listen to me.”

He turned on his heel and marched out of the door, hoping he could guess where Harry had gone.

Hermione looked at Ron, a worried expression on her face. “Do you think we should go after them?”

Ron shook his head. “At this point, I’m almost as fed up of Harry ignoring Malfoy as I was of him talking about him in sixth year,” he said. “I say we let them fight it out. It might do more good than anything we can say.”

Hermione didn’t look convinced, but she got up and moved to sit beside Ron on the sofa anyway. “If they’re not back by dinner time, we’ll go looking for them.”

Making his way along the corridors of the castle, Draco found himself being pointed at and whispered about. He ignored them. They were just kids who didn’t know any different, and they weren’t really saying anything that wasn’t true. He couldn’t let them distract him from finding Harry.

The further he got from the eighth year common room, the more despondent he felt. There’d been no sign of Harry anywhere so far. He wished he knew where Harry kept that map he’d seen him using once. He’d managed to catch a glimpse of it and it seemed like it would have come in handy. He was on the ground floor of the castle now, approaching the entrance hall when he spotted a mess of dark hair ahead of him.

“Potter! Hey! Harry!” he yelled, ignoring the surprised looks from a bunch of first years who were standing around by the main doors. He quickened his steps to catch up to Harry, who had turned in response to hearing his name.

As Draco approached, the look on Harry’s face turned to one of anger. “What do you want, Malfoy?” he growled.

Draco came to a halt in front of him. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice firm.

“I’ve told you, I don’t want to hear anything you’ve got to say,” Harry said defiantly. His arms were, once again, folded across his chest.

“Well, that’s just tough isn’t it,” Draco said, folding his own arms. “Because you’re making everyone’s lives harder than they need to be. Haven’t you noticed the atmosphere in the common room?”

Harry shrugged, non-committal.

Draco sighed. “Seriously, why won’t you just listen to what I have to say?”

“Why should I?” Harry asked, setting his jaw. “Why can’t you just be happy that I spoke at your trial so you could even be here and leave it at that?”

“I am,” Draco insisted. “But I don’t want to leave it at that, Potter. I want a fresh start, why are you so opposed to it?”

“I’m… look, I’m not opposed to a fresh start,” Harry replied with a sigh. “I just don’t… understand how you can have had such a complete change of heart in such a short space of time.”

“‘Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.’ That’s you,” Draco said. “All of that applies to you, and none of it applies to me. I know that I never did anything to make you think otherwise, but a lot of what I did when I was younger was not really me.”

Harry snorted, giving Draco a disbelieving look. “You expect me to believe that?”

Draco shrugged. “‘The evil that men do lives after them’,” he said. “I don’t want that to be true of me. I want to make amends for all the shitty things I did and said.”

Harry furrowed his brow as he looked at Draco. “Have you swallowed a Shakespeare anthology or something?” he asked.

Draco gave a half smile. “I find those quotes particularly apt,” he said. “Do you not think so?”

“Well, I mean…” Harry faltered, dropping his arms. “The second one, maybe. But I’d argue over the first one.”

“Oh, come on,” Draco said. “You’ve done great things, you can’t deny it. So how does that not fit?”

“I did what anyone else would have done,” Harry muttered.

Draco shook his head. “I wouldn’t have done what you did,” he said honestly. “You know I wouldn’t. Not back then.”

Harry nodded his head in agreement. “Fair point,” he said.

“So how about we start again?” Draco asked, looking at Harry hopefully.

Harry regarded him for a moment, before shaking his head. “Sorry, I just… I can’t.” He turned and walked away from Draco, heading for Hagrid’s hut.

Draco watched him go with a sigh. He wanted to follow him, but at the same time, he thought it may be better to leave Harry to think about what he’d said.

A few days after Draco had spoken to Harry, the weather took a turn for the worse. Gone were the afternoons filled with late summer sun, and in their place were some of the worst rain storms that the castle had ever seen. The Quidditch teams were regularly getting into trouble with Mr Filch for tracking mud through the castle after their practices, and the common rooms were more crowded than usual with the students unwilling to leave the castle for anything.

In the eighth year common room, the students were glad that there weren’t as many of them as they still had enough space to spread out without being cramped.

Harry had snuck down to the kitchen to ask the House Elves to make them some hot chocolate. They were only too happy to help The Great Harry Potter, and had not only made him a flask of hot chocolate but provided him with a large platter of warm chocolate chip cookies. Thanking them profusely, Harry had hurried back to the common room.

Pushing his way through the door, Harry was confronted by the sight of what appeared to be a wall of blankets that spread across the whole common room. Frowning, he cautiously poked his head through the blankets then stopped in his tracks. “Er… what’s this?”

“A blanket fort!” Hermione replied with a grin. “We thought we could all just hide out in here for a bit while it’s raining.”

“What… all of us?” Harry asked, warily.

“Well, no, Seamus and Dean are… otherwise preoccupied,” Hermione said, giving Harry a meaningful look. “And Pansy and Blaise have gone to Hogsmeade.”

“In this?” Harry asked, incredulously, gesturing to the rain which was streaming down the castle windows.

Hermione nodded. “Yes, they said they had some very strong anti-weather charms they could use to protect themselves,” she said. “I think they left when the rain slowed down this morning.”

Harry made a face and shrugged. “Each to their own,” he said. “I’ve got us some hot chocolate and warm chocolate chip cookies, courtesy of the House Elves.”

“Sounds wonderful!”

Another voice came from inside the blanket fort. One that made Harry frown.

“What’s he doing in here?” he asked, turning his frown to Hermione.

“He is in the eighth year, therefore he is welcome in here,” Hermione told him firmly. “We need to start afresh.”

Harry grumbled, but turned to face Draco. “Plenty for everyone,” he said, trying to keep his voice light.

Draco smiled at Harry. He patted the cushions next to him. “Plenty of room for us all too,” he said.

Harry eyed the cushions and then looked at Hermione. “Where’s Neville?”

“In the greenhouse,” Hermione replied, shrugging. “Helping Professor Sprout tend to the more sensitive plants.”

“So… it’s just us four?” Harry asked, warily.

Hermione nodded. “It’ll be fun, Harry,” she said. “Please don’t start.”

Harry sighed softly. “I won’t,” he said. “I promise.”

“Good,” Hermione replied, giving him a smile before going to sit beside Ron again. “Get in here and sit down so we can eat those biscuits.”

Harry chuckled, unable to help himself. He sat down, carefully looking away from Draco, and uncovered the plate of biscuits. He put the plate in the centre and then conjured four mugs to pour the hot chocolate into. Looking around, he eyed the space next to Draco and lowered himself into it. He still didn’t look at Draco as he poured the hot chocolate out, handing two mugs to Ron and Hermione. He then turned and held a mug out to Draco.

“Thank you,” Draco said, giving Harry a small smile. He knew that there was still a long way to go, but this seemed like progress to him.

Harry grunted in response as he poured the remainder of the hot chocolate into his own mug, but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Draco lifted his mug and sipped at the hot chocolate. “I missed this,” he said quietly. “I… didn’t appreciate it before.”

“None of us did,” Harry said, before he could stop himself. He looked horrified when he realised that he’d agreed with Draco.

“That’s true,” Hermione said, nodding. “I certainly didn’t appreciate a lot of the simple things before.”

“Me neither,” Ron agreed. “I don’t think I thought we’d get this chance again.”

“Have you made blanket forts before?” Draco asked curiously.

“Once or twice,” Ron nodded, sipping from his mug. “On stormy days like this, we transformed the common room into a giant one and loads of people sat in it. We didn’t have biscuits and hot chocolate though.”

“You were lucky,” Harry said. “I was usually out in this practicing for Quidditch. Wood was relentless.”

“He made you practice in storms?” Draco asked in disbelief.

Harry nodded, forgetting his vow to not talk to Draco. “He was fuming that year you got the game rescheduled. We’d practiced for weeks in this shitty weather and trained with Slytherin in mind only to find out we were playing Hufflepuff!”

“Ah… yeah,” Draco said, flushing. “I did have rather a deep cut on my arm, you know.”

“That wouldn’t have stopped you playing Quidditch, you big baby!” Harry exclaimed, punching Draco lightly on the arm.

“Hey!” Draco yelped softly. “You’ll spill my hot chocolate! I’ll have you know that the cut made it painful to wear my arm guards and after what happened to your arm in second year, there was no way I was playing without them!”

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but shut it again. “Alright,” he said after a moment. “That makes sense, I suppose. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“Did it feel strange?” Draco asked curiously.

“Did what feel strange?” Harry asked, frowning.

“Having no bones in your arm,” Draco said, eyeing Harry over the rim of his mug.

“Oh! Yeah,” Harry nodded. “Really weird. The sight of my arm flopping about all over the place made me feel a bit sick, actually. And don’t get me started on having to grow my bones back.”

“I think if Lockhart had done that to me, my father would have had him removed from the school,” Draco mused.

“I’m not going to lie… I kind of wish someone had had him removed,” Harry sighed. “The man was a menace.”

“I’ll be honest, I was just pleased he didn’t bother with me,” Draco admitted. “I know I teased you about giving out signed photos and stuff, but I’d heard everything Lockhart had said. I just couldn’t pass up an opportunity to tease you.”

“Mock me, more like,” Harry said, raising an eyebrow. “He was always turning up at the worst moments.”

“Tease, mock, is there a difference?” Draco asked with a shrug. “It amused me regardless of what you call it.”

Harry made a face at him. “I don’t know why that surprised me,” he said. “You were always there at the worst moments as well.”

“I did have a knack for that, didn’t I?” Draco replied, smiling as he took another sip of his hot chocolate.

“Mmhmm,” Harry said dryly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d have said you were stalking me.”

“Me? What about you following me all over the place a couple of years ago?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re hardly one to talk.”

“Yes, well… I kind of had a reason to, didn’t I?” Harry replied stiffly.

“You could have done more than just follow me though,” Draco said with a sigh.

Harry choked on his hot chocolate, dribbling it down his chin as he coughed. “Oh, for… what do you mean?” he asked, looking around for something to use as a napkin and settling for pulling the hem of his t-shirt up to wipe at his mouth.

Draco’s gaze drifted briefly to the small expanse of skin he could see. “Well, you followed me but you never attempted to talk to me. Did you think I didn’t know you were following me?”

“Well… yes, actually,” Harry said, frowning slightly. “Did you know every time?”

Draco nodded. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are,” he said. “I was hoping you’d ask me what I was doing… give me a chance to explain… give me a chance to ask for your help.”

“Why would I… how was I to know you wanted help?” Harry asked. “You spent ages talking yourself up, saying you had a mission, that you’d been chosen.”

“I was wrong,” Draco said, shrugging. “I stopped talking like that pretty quickly. I was terrified but I couldn’t just come out and ask you for your help, could I? Not when I’d spent so many years arguing with you.”

“How am I supposed to believe that?” Harry asked, staring at Draco with wide eyes. “You were like, the poster boy for a Death Eater’s child… I thought you wanted all of that.”

Draco shook his head. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all these weeks,” he sighed. “I was so, so wrong to believe everything my father told me. I regret everything I did during that time, but I couldn’t… I had to keep going or he’d have killed me. I didn’t… I wasn’t brave like you. I didn’t have the… the balls to stand up to him.”

“Your father?” Harry asked, surprised.

Draco shook his head again. “No… Voldemort,” he said in a whisper. “The way my father used to speak about him, I expected him to be this great person. I didn’t expect… well, I didn’t expect everyone else to be right about him.”

Harry looked at Draco, surprise at the use of Voldemort’s name evident on his face. “Couldn’t you have spoken to your parents? Convinced them to leave Voldemort?”

“No,” Draco said. “Not really. My father was right on his side. Mother, well, I could probably have convinced her but she would never go against my father. A united front, you see.”

“I’ll never understand it,” Harry said. “I know that you Purebloods like to bang on about preserving wizarding blood and all that, but you’re still human. How could any of you think that the way Voldemort wanted all Muggles and Muggleborns dead was okay?”

“I didn’t,” Draco said. “Not really. I know I made references to it over the years, but I never really stopped to think about what it meant. By the time I did realise, well… I was in too deep. That day you were brought to the Manor and my father asked me to identify you… I knew it was you. But I couldn’t tell him so. I couldn’t send you to your death like that - we’re the same age. We’ve known each other for almost half of our lives. How could I do that to someone I’d shared a classroom with for six years?”

“So… you lied to your father to save me?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded. “Yes. I realised, after hearing them discussing the battle, that you were the only hope anyone had,” he said. “If you died, we would all be doomed to a terrible life. Just knowing that if you were able to defeat him, we’d all be able to live normally again gave me the confidence to do it. I’d never lied to him before.”

“That still doesn’t explain your sudden desire to be our friend,” Harry said, gesturing to himself and then to Ron and Hermione, who were shuffling awkwardly where they were sitting. Harry didn’t notice that his friends were slowly working their way towards the gap in the blankets, his attention on Draco.

“I thought about coming back to Hogwarts and letting everything be the same as it was before, and I couldn’t do it,” Draco sighed. “I thought about not coming back to Hogwarts and realised I couldn’t do that either. I decided that if I was coming back, everything had to be different. I didn’t want to keep making my father’s mistakes.”

“...I don’t know what you want me to say,” Harry said eventually. “I can’t just… how do I…”

“You don’t have to forgive me,” Draco replied softly. “I know I was a horrible little bastard. All I want is for you to… I don’t know, stop ignoring me, maybe? Acknowledge that I’m trying to make up for things I’ve done.”

Harry looked Draco straight in the eye. When Draco attempted to look away, Harry caught hold of his chin gently, forcing him to maintain eye contact.

Draco held his breath. He couldn’t recall ever really looking at Harry’s eyes before. The colour was almost hypnotic and he felt numb.

After a few moments, Harry nodded. “Alright,” he said, softly. “I’ll give you a chance. If you wanted to sit with me in Defense Against the Dark Arts… that would be okay.”

Draco let out the breath he was holding, slowly feeling his senses come back. “What did you… did you just…” his questions hung in the air, unasked.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t know Legilimency,” he said. “Even if I did, I know it wouldn’t get me anywhere with you.”

“H-how?” Draco stuttered, completely wrong-footed.

Harry shrugged. “You weren’t the only one who heard things during the war.”

“Oh,” Draco replied. “Fair enough.”

Harry glanced over at him and gave a small smile. Glancing to the other side, he frowned. “Where did they go?”

Draco leaned forward to look past Harry to see that the space occupied by Ron and Hermione was now empty. “I don’t know,” he said. “I didn’t see them leave.”

“Neither did I,” Harry said, still frowning. “They’re getting better at sneaking.”

Draco couldn’t help but give him an amused look. “Really?”

Harry nodded. “Ron never used to be able to sneak anywhere without making some sort of noise,” he said. “He’s definitely got better.”

“Where do you think they’ve gone?”

Harry shrugged. “No idea,” he said. “But I’d be willing to bet we can’t get out of this room right now.”

“You think they’ve locked us in?” Draco asked, panic rising in his stomach.

Harry looked at him curiously. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t… being locked in makes me nervous,” Draco admitted. “Claustrophobic.”

“Oh… well, don’t worry,” Harry said. “You’re not alone. I’m here, and…” he broke off, realising that without even thinking, he’d assumed the role of protector. Again. “Ah…”

“It’s actually true isn’t it?” Draco asked, forgetting his nerves. “You can’t help it?”

“Sorry,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I just…”

Draco smiled and looked down. “It’s all right,” he said. “It’s nice knowing that someone is here. Even if it is someone that hates my guts.”

Harry sighed. “I don’t hate you,” he said. “Not even close.”

“No?” Draco raised an eyebrow. “You’ve done a fairly good job of acting like it up to now.”

“I know, I know,” Harry said. “Look. This is definitely some kind of plan on Hermione’s part, to get me to talk to you and it’s worked, hasn’t it?”

Draco nodded.

“I’ve been an arsehole,” Harry continued. “I was just… in denial or something.”

“Denial about what?” Draco asked, screwing his nose up in confusion as he looked at Harry.

“That you could change,” Harry replied. “I was so… convinced that this was all an act, I was determined to not even give you a chance to explain. While I wasn’t giving you a chance to explain, it gave me an excuse to stay angry… gave me someone to blame.”

“For anything in particular or just for… everything?”

“I don’t even know anymore,” Harry admitted. “I was so focused on it before we got back here, that I just… carried on. I didn’t even stop to think about whether I was directing my anger at the right person. I mean… deep down I knew it wasn’t your fault. How could it be?”

“So, can we start again?” Draco asked cautiously, watching Harry carefully.

Harry nodded hesitantly. “I think I’d like that,” he said. “It’s probably about time I stopped being a prat, isn’t it?”

“It would make life around here a bit easier if you would,” Draco nodded. After a pause, he stuck his hand out.

Harry hesitated, but grasped Draco’s hand after a moment and shook it.

Draco gave Harry a shy smile. “A fresh start then,” he said.

Harry nodded. “A fresh start.”

Draco flushed slightly as a pleasant warmth spread through him, starting with where his hand was gripped in Harry’s.

Harry yawned suddenly, covering his mouth with his free hand. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I didn’t sleep very well.”

“Nightmares?” Draco asked knowingly. “I get them too.”

“Yeah, I thought they’d get better once we got back in the swing of things here,” Harry sighed. “But I was wrong. If anything, they’re getting worse.”

Draco frowned. “Do you take anything for them?”

Harry shook his head. “No, nothing. I’ve never, well, I’ve never thought about it.”

“Merlin, it’s no wonder you’re not sleeping well,” Draco said, shifting in his spot. “Do you talk to anyone about what happened?”

Harry hesitated again before shaking his head. “No,” he said, quietly. “I know I probably should.”

Draco nodded. “I was against it at first too,” he said. “Mother insisted I see someone after Father… well, you know.”

“Azkaban,” Harry nodded. “...would she have insisted if he hadn’t been sent there?”

“I don’t know,” Draco admitted. “I’d like to think so, but… I’ll never know now. I’m glad Mother insisted on me seeing someone. It really helped me come to terms with everything… I could get you an appointment if you like?”

“Maybe,” Harry said, thoughtfully. “Not right now though?”

“No, not right now,” Draco replied. “I can still hear the rain outside. No-one should be out in it.”

“I’ve got no plans to go out in it,” Harry said, quickly. “I couldn’t think of anything worse. Pansy and Blaise must be mad.”

Draco snorted. “More than mad,” he said. “If they’ve got any sense, they’ll stay at The Three Broomsticks until the weather passes.”

“You wouldn’t mind that?” Harry asked, looking at him curiously.

Draco furrowed his brow in confusion. “Mind? Why would I mind?”

“Well, Blaise is a good looking bloke and Pansy’s your girlfriend,” Harry said, his brow furrowed too.

Draco couldn’t help but laugh loudly. “Pansy is not my girlfriend,” he said after a few moments. “She’s my best friend, but definitely not my girlfriend.”

“But… you and her…” Harry stammered, confusion still evident on his face.

Draco shook his head emphatically. “No. Never. We’ve known each other since we were in nappies,” he said. “It would be like… Ron going out with his sister.”

Harry made a face. “Well thanks for that mental image,” he said.

Draco grinned. “I’m not sorry,” he said. “If you must know, I don’t swing that way. Not that it’s common knowledge. I’m not embarrassed, but… well, let’s just say it’s easier to say it out loud now that my father is… incarcerated.”

Realisation dawned on Harry’s face. “Oh… I see,” he said, flushing. “Sorry, I…”

Draco shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Like I said, it’s not common knowledge, it was just easier to let people think there was something between Pansy and me.”

“So your mum knows?” Harry asked, tilting his head slightly.

Draco nodded. “Yes,” he replied. “She’s alright about it, though I am yet to… ah… have any kind of real relationship.”

“I don’t suppose it was high on your list of priorities,” Harry said quietly.

Draco shook his head. “Not really,” he sighed. “Maybe it should have been. Maybe if I’d focused my attention… elsewhere, I wouldn’t have got caught up in my father’s madness.”

“Maybe,” Harry nodded. “But you’ve still got plenty of time, I mean… we’re only seventeen. No hurry to settle down yet.”

“I know,” Draco nodded. “I’m not exactly a catch though, am I? With this on my arm and a father in prison?” he added, lifting his left arm up so Harry caught sight of the faint outline of the Dark Mark.

“There’ll be someone for you,” Harry said. “There’s someone for everyone.”

Draco snorted softly. “Very philosophical,” he said. “What about you? Still seeing Ron’s sister? Is that why the image was so horrific for you?”

“Merlin, no,” Harry said, shaking his head quickly. “It was the thought of Ron and Ginny together. Ginny and I broke up last summer.”

“Well, that’s a surprise,” Draco said, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you’d be with her forever and have a Quidditch team of kids.”

Harry laughed. “I have to say, I don’t think that would ever happen.”

“Why not? She’s the youngest of seven,” Draco shrugged. “She might like a big family.”

Harry shook his head. “It wasn’t on the cards for us,” he said. “You might not swing that way… I swing both.”

Draco’s eyebrows shot up so that they were barely visible under his fringe. “You what?”

Harry gave a lopsided grin. “That’s not common knowledge either,” he said. “But since we’re sharing…”

“Merlin,” Draco breathed, still gazing at Harry curiously.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Harry said, going red. “It took me a while to figure it out, but… yeah, I find both men and women attractive. I don’t mind whether I end up with a man or a woman, I just want to be happy.”

“Sweet,” Draco commented, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.

Harry shrugged. “It is what it is,” he said. “Don’t you want to be happy?”

“Harry… that’s all I’ve ever wanted,” Draco said. “At one point I thought it would never happen for me. Now… I’m starting to think it will after all.”

Harry smiled and shuffled around until he was lying back against the squashy cushions that lined the floor. “It will,” he said. “We’ve all been given a second chance.” He yawned again widely.

Draco found himself yawning too and slid down so that he was lying beside Harry. “We should go to our room,” he said softly.

“I’m too comfortable to move,” Harry said. “These cushions are just as comfortable as the beds.”

“Good point,” Draco sighed, shoving a smaller cushion under his head. “How long do you think Ron and Hermione will be?”

“No idea,” Harry sighed, shifting onto his side so he could look at Draco. “But if we’re comfortable here, it won’t matter, will it?”

“Suppose not,” Draco yawned again.

Harry yawned too, shuffling over slightly so that he could feel the heat radiating off Draco’s body. He shivered slightly.

“Are you alright over there?” Draco asked, sleepily.

“I…” Harry started, feeling himself go red again. “Usually, I…” he took a deep breath. “I usually have to lie with Ron to get to sleep. Since we were on the run… I haven’t felt comfortable trying to sleep on my own.”

Draco opened his eyes again, suddenly feeling more alert. “How did I not notice that?”

“I start the night in bed on my own,” Harry said, embarrassed. “Then when everyone else is in their beds, Ron will get in with me until I drift off. Not such a big hero now, am I?”

Draco shook his head. “Don’t be stupid,” he said softly. “This is why you need to talk to someone.” He paused. “You can come closer… if you want.”

Harry hesitated before shuffling over so that he was pressed against Draco’s side. “Are you sure this is okay?”

Draco nodded, shifting so that his arm wasn’t trapped under Harry. “It’s fine,” he said. “I… sometimes share a bed with Blaise, for the same reason.”

“Oh,” Harry replied, feeling better about the situation. “Okay. Okay, this is fine then.”

“Completely fine,” Draco said softly, his eyes slipping closed of their own accord. “Completely.”

“Good,” Harry said, shuffling and resting his head on Draco’s chest. “Good,” he repeated in a whisper.

Slowly they both drifted off to sleep, their hot chocolate long forgotten as Harry’s arm crept across Draco’s waist.

By the time Ron and Hermione returned to the common room and pushed the blankets aside, Harry and Draco were fast asleep in a tangle of arms and legs.

Turning to Hermione with wide eyes, Ron whispered, “Well that has to be better than Harry ignoring him, right?”

Hermione smiled. “Mission accomplished,” she whispered, taking Ron’s hand and leading him away from the sleeping boys.