Malfoy Manor was every bit as grand as its name. It stood tall and white in a row of adjoining town houses, towering four stories high. Harry saw much destruction from the car window as they drove, evidence of the horror the bombs had caused, but Wiltshire Drive was mostly untouched. He worried again if his own home was even still standing, or merely reduced to a pile of bricks like his mother's factory.

If only he knew for certain what had happened to her, but he had nothing to go on except those ten simple words from his Aunt Petunia. He had never gotten along with his mother's sister or her family, and he couldn't help but feel she was withholding information from him out of spite. The thought that she would be so petty even in the face of tragedy made Harry very sad indeed, but unfortunately he could well believe it.

The Malfoys had staff to help unload the car, and Harry was not allowed to assist in carrying the luggage as he wanted to. Instead Draco steered him into the house and began excitedly showing him around. "I want you to feel at home," he said anxiously as he ran his hand through his hair and looked around the drawing room. "Though I must say, I've somewhat forgotten myself what it feels like to think of this as home."

"It's so big," Harry confided, and Draco nodded mutely.

The tour concluded on the top floor where Draco's childhood bedroom was located. Harry was extremely keen to get a look at the place where Draco had spent his boyhood until they had moved to Little Whinging, and he was unsurprised to find it absolutely filled with books. Draco watched him with interest as he took stock of the stuffed toys and framed photos that also decorated the surfaces, and as he ran his fingertips over the beloved books' spines. "This is where you used to sleep?" Harry asked, although it wasn't really a question. Draco nodded in response anyway.

There was only one other room on this floor, which Mrs Malfoy had already organised to been set up ready for Harry's arrival. "We're still in the attic," Harry noted, looking out of the window at the impressive view.

"Almost," Draco agreed with a reserved little chuckle.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Mr Malfoy may have come back from his tour of duty relatively unharmed, but his eyes held a haunted look and he jumped whenever the cutlery clattered too loudly. He kept looking over at Draco though every now and again, and when he did he would smile and nod at him. Harry felt, in his own silent way, he was extremely glad to be home, and to have his family by his side again.

Harry could think of very little to say, so the conversation was carried mostly by Draco and Mrs Malfoy. Draco's mother was keen to let them know of all the developments in the area, but sadly that mostly entailed a list of what had and had not been destroyed. Their old school was half demolished, but mention of that lead Draco to announce both his and Harry's results from their summer exams, and he and his mother began excitedly talking about which schools they could perhaps attend instead, and then which university. Harry had to say the prospect cheered his spirits a little, as he was included in all of Draco's plans without question, but he could not seriously consider anything of the sort until he had discovered in detail the fate of both his parents.

Harry ate as much as he could to be polite, but his heart was far from in it. He passed several scraps to Treacle and Shelley as they wound around his and the chair's legs, aware that the Malfoys' staff had reacted with wide eyes and pursed lips at the arrival of the two cats, but not managing enough energy to really care.

Thankfully, both boys were undeniably exhausted from their travels, and were therefore not made to stay up late. After numerous poorly hidden yawns at the dinner table, they were sent up to get washed for bed, feline companions in tow. They brushed their teeth side by side as usual in the bathroom on the third floor, then paused uncertainly in the middle of the hallway between their two rooms.

"Goodnight," Harry said, mindful of the elder Malfoys downstairs, and after a glance at the stairway to make sure they were alone, risked a very quick peck on the cheek. Draco though, emboldened in his own home, pulled Harry into a hug and tenderly kissed him on the mouth.

"Goodnight," he murmured.

They left their doors open ajar, so that the cats could move freely if they wished, not wanting to separate them like their owners were forced to do. Harry felt a little better knowing he was not entirely cut off from Draco, but his new bed still felt awfully cold and empty without him. He willed himself to sleep though, and he was so exhausted after all the past week's turmoil, it wasn't long before he was drifting off.

He was sadly not surprised when the nightmares came.

He was running through smoke and flames. He could hear his mother's voice but he couldn't find her. "Mum!" he screamed and coughed. "Mum I'm coming, where are you!"

"Shh," he heard, and half awake, felt himself being pulled into familiar arms.

"Mum?" he whimpered.

"It's Draco," the inevitable reply came, and Harry let himself be hugged. "It's okay, I've got you."

After that, he slept.