Harry had woken up on Sunday morning and found himself on a transfigured chaise in Remus' room. When he had fallen asleep was not clear, but he and Remus had spent long hours talking before he had drifted off. The old adage that things always look better in the morning was not true, and as Harry made his way back to Gryffindor tower after a leisurely breakfast with his friend, he neither felt more cheerful nor any more relaxed about the whole situation. If anything, he was more confused than ever.

His dreams had made it more than clear what his subconscious wanted from Malfoy. The images in his mind were graphic, strangely resolute and very difficult to ignore. The Seraphim in him was not ready to give up on Malfoy just because they were no longer controlled by the mating drive. Knowing what this really meant for the future was difficult. Harry could not shake the feeling that his life was much more complicated now.

He walked into the Gryffindor common room and found most of the seventh year gathered around the fire.

"Harry!" it was Neville who saw him first and alerted the others to his presence.

He tensed ready for accusations to fly and was most surprised when he found himself gathered into an enthusiastic hug by Hermione.

"Oh, Harry," she said, pulling back and looking him up and down, "when Malfoy was at breakfast this morning and you weren't, we were so worried. Are you okay? The arrogant prig didn't hurt you, did he?"

For a moment he just stared, quite overwhelmed by the caring in the faces around him.

"I'm fine," he said quietly, knowing that his internal dilemma was not exactly 'fine', but needing to reassure his friends. "Professor Dumbledore took me to see Remus last night, I had breakfast with him."

"So no ... uhm ... nasty side effects then?" Hermione was obviously the lead in the group and from the look in her eyes she had been researching again.

Harry shook his head.

"Just a bit sore," he replied and managed to call up a small smile from somewhere.

That made the boys grin and most of the girls blush to the roots of their hair. Hermione slapped him on the arm playfully for his trouble.

"For once in my life I do not want details," she said, matching his opening gambit beautifully.

It was probably quite obvious to his two best friends that they would need to talk about this, but Hermione seemed content to let it rest in front of the others. Harry was grateful because there were just some things he could not talk about in front of most of his year, even if they had all but adopted him as family.

As a group they dragged him back over to where they had been sitting and all but forced him into a chair. It seemed that the famous Potter brooding ability was being thwarted.

"So how was ... Malfoy at breakfast?" Harry asked hesitantly.

He was not sure if he really wanted to know, but at least his friends could give him an indication of what he was in for when he next set foot in the Great Hall.

"As arsey as usual," Seamus replied irreverently. "Actually, come to think of it, arsier than usual. Now that everyone knows he's part Veela the snotty bugger is flaunting it."

"Yeah," Ron agreed vehemently, "if I hear Pansy giggle at him one more time, I'll put the dozy cow out of her misery and save us all the pain."

"Ron!" Hermione did not seem to like that particular line of conversation.

It was scary how well she could sound like Molly when she wanted to. Harry for his part was fighting down a wave of what he could only call completely irrational jealousy. He tried very hard not to let what he was feeling show, and Hermione missed it thanks to her focus being on Ron, but Neville was looking at him in a very speculative manner. Maybe this was something he could not hide.

"Only if I don't get there first," he said bluntly, and most people looked rather shocked.

That had not been the response any of his friends were expecting.

"What?" he asked innocently. "I'm still pumped up on hormones," he tried to make it sound as if this was perfectly normal and was something that would go away, "I'm likely to hex anyone who so much as looks at him sideways."

"Note to self," Neville said seemingly taking Harry's words at face value; "don't look at Malfoy."

This caused a laugh to move around the group and Harry felt a little better with his friends around him. Then there was some shuffling and a small stack of papers were placed on his lap.

"We thought you'd want to know what they were saying about you, Mate," Ron said with an apologetic shrug. "We saved the Prophet for you and some of the mags. The Quibbler's on top because Luna's dad printed the truth, so we thought you'd like to see that first."

Harry gave his friends a smile and tried to push the dread aside. The Prophet tended to try and be nice about him since his defeat of Voldemort, but it was still sensationalist, and he could just imagine what they would have made of him. He had no doubt that his change in status would have been leaked on that first day, but Malfoy had accosted him before the first edition arrived, so he had seen nothing of what the press was reporting. Poppy had not let him have the Prophet while he was under her care.

"I think I'll read those later," was all he could come up with as he looked at the pile.

There were bound to be taunts from the Slytherins and funny looks from the rest of the school, along with speculation in the press, but Harry really did not feel like dealing with it all quite yet. He needed some normality after the last few days, and he fell back on a childhood favourite.

"Anyone for exploding snap?" he asked hopefully.

~*~

It was not until Monday morning that Harry was forced into any kind of contact with Malfoy, or rather Draco as his mind had taken to referring to the Slytherin no matter how he tried not to. Monday morning meant Transfigurations, and Malfoy was one of the seventh years taking the subject. Having specialised for N.E.W.T.s all classes were a mixture of houses and so Harry did not even have the luxury of avoiding Slytherins for schoolwork, but at least under Professor McGonagall's sharp eyes there was unlikely to be open trouble.

Harry took his seat next to Ron and tried to be inconspicuous. It was rather like trying to hide a fire sprite in an igloo; it worked for all of about thirty seconds. There was sniggering and pointing from most of the Slytherins almost immediately.

"Just ignore them, Mate," was Ron's sage advice, and Harry did his best to take it.

There was only one Slytherin who was not poking fun to his classmates and that was Draco. However, it was worse; Draco was acting as if he did not exist. Contrary to what he had told his friends, Harry did not feel the insane jealousy he had in the common room when Pansy giggled at Draco, what he felt was dejection. His mate was ignoring him and playing up the affections of another and it had a rather detrimental effect on his psyche.

"We will be continuing with the transfiguration of mice into horses," Professor McGonagall drew the class to order as she stood at the front of the room. "Remember that your horses should only be a foot tall at this stage. Do not attempt to show off; it will result in deducted marks."

Harry's head of House scanned the room looking at one Ravenclaw and a couple of Slytherins to make her point.

"You may begin," she said and sat back down again once more.

Since he had missed a week of school, Harry had not been part of the preliminaries for this lesson, but he had covered the beginnings of the theory when in the hospital wing room. Because of this he was paired with Ron for the beginning of the lesson to see how far the class had progressed. Malfoy was paired with Pansy.

Hence it wasn't until about halfway through the lesson, when they had both been given their own mouse, that either of them had to use magic. Now Harry had felt some peculiar shifts in his magic over the previous day, but he had assumed it was just him being touchy. That all changed when Malfoy cast his first spell. Harry was caught by such surprise as his own magic moved inside of him in response that he dropped his wand.

The Slytherins laughed at him, and Draco glared since the interruption had ruined the blond's concentration, but for a moment Harry could not move.

"Is everything alright, Mr Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked from where she was assisting Dean with his wand action.

"Fine, Professor," Harry said, breaking himself out of his shock and bending to pick up his wand, "sorry, Professor."

The next time Draco cast his spell Harry was ready, but it still made him shudder slightly. It seemed that every time Draco used his magic, Harry reacted, and it was rather a nice feeling. It almost made him smile as he guessed that maybe Draco would experience the same thing. It would be difficult to ignore him if he continually reminded the other boy that he was there.

Taking a deep breath, he concentrated on the Transfiguration and calmly cast his spell. His eyes flicked over to Draco to gauge the Slytherin's reaction and Harry felt his spirits fall through the floor. There was nothing, not even a twitch to indicate that Draco had felt anything. This was all just him; he was the infatuated idiot, and Draco was completely immune. It was almost as if he could feel the life draining out of himself. Draco didn't care because Draco didn't feel anything.