It was nearing the holidays, and therefore the hallways were filled with an exciting chatter as students discussed their plans for the break. The Great Hall was decorated in wreaths, garland, and a giant Christmas tree that Professor Flitwick took pride in decorating. As excited as the students were to get some time off, the teachers were even more thrilled.

Over the break, they'd be able to catch up on any final grading assessments before the semester change, and if they were all caught up, well, they'd have two weeks to do absolutely nothing! The only teachers that didn't seem thrilled over the impending short vacation were Draco and Harry.

The bond that still showed prominently on their wrists -thanks to McGonagall- made it nearly impossible for either boy to not think of the other when they caught a glimpse of their marked wrist. Harry shivered at the thought of being so far away from Malfoy over break, but did his best to believe it was just faux-feelings induced by the enchanted bond between them. But, Draco also felt odd at the idea of ditching Potter for such a period of time.

Time with Narcissa Malfoy wasn't as pleasant as Draco would like to pretend it was, but he wasn't about to just leave the still grieving woman to herself over the holidays. At one point, he'd decided maybe he should ask his Gryffindor roommate to join him for break, but figured that it'd be impossibly too weird, and he could vaguely recall the messy-haired professor mentioning something about spending time with Weasley and his Mudblood girlfriend.

Before said holidays were due to start, however, Professor McGonagall had called all of the staff to the Great Hall in order to have a meeting whilst the students headed towards their common rooms after supper one night.

"I'm sure you're all very curious as to why I've called this meeting," McGonagall began, and a few of the professors nodded in agreement. "Well, I assure you that we're here for a good reason. For once. I've done a bit of thinking and I've decided that the students could use one last hurrah before their break; this being said, I'd like to throw a ball."

A few of the teachers began to look back and forth at each other in wonderment, as well as uncertainty, but the Headmistress rose her hand and all talking ceased.

"I'm not talking about something as ridiculously important as the Yule Ball, but, I believe a nice semi-formal dance would be nice for the students. It will be scheduled for next Friday, as the students are due to leave next Sunday, and I'll need all of your help to get it ready. I'm making the announcement Monday morning at breakfast." McGonagall finished, and one of the professors rose their hand timidly.

"But Minerva, isn't Monday a bit of a short notice to the students? Think of the girls. Not all of them have dresses lying around: same goes for the boys and suits." The little second Muggle Studies teacher claimed.

"I guess you're right. Tomorrow at breakfast then." With a wave of her hand, the meeting was dismissed and the teachers fled to their quarters at once. Harry was the only one to stay, waiting to speak with the Headmistress.

"Professor, it's been over a month now, and Malfoy and I are still bonded. It's becoming more and more impossible with him, so do you think you could cut us a break over the holiday?" He asked, rubbing his wrist self-consciously as he spoke. He'd been thinking about this all day, but had never had a moment alone to talk to her.

"On the contrary, Mr. Potter, I believe you and Mr. Malfoy are working quite well together. For once." She spoke, a twinkle in her eyes.

"Then why's the bond still there? Why are we still living together? I have no personal space. No privacy." Harry began to complain, but McGonagall rose her hand dismissively.

"All these mysteries will unravel themselves soon enough, Mr. Potter. Good night." And with that, she walked away, leaving Harry with his mouth agape.

  ~△⃒⃘~

Back in their shared living quarters, Draco paced back and forth frustratedly. A dance. McGonagall wanted to throw a dance, and all the professors were supposed to chaperone? The idea was preposterous! He had much better things to do on a Friday night than watch students dance ridiculously while enchanted instruments played.

He was hoping to leave for his mother's that night, and now, he was being roped into participating in a dance! He was angry: beside himself, even. Really, he felt betrayed. Did nobody care that he had his own life to lead?

Surely, if perfect Potter couldn't have attended, McGonagall would've cancelled the idea no questions asked. But Draco was Draco, and Potter was Potter. They'd never be equals.

He heard the shuffling of stone, and soon the brilliant savior himself walked through the short passageway and into their lounging area. He stopped at the sight of Draco pacing, and rose an eyebrow questioningly.

"What're you doing? You're making me dizzy." He asked, taking a seat on one of the overstuffed recliners.

"I'm pacing, what does it look like? Are you really that blind? It seems you need a higher prescription, or perhaps have an apothecary mend your eyesight. Perhaps you'd look maybe decent without those ridiculously bland structures on your face." Draco muttered, heaving an agitated breath and taking a seat across from him.

"Did you just hit on me, Malfoy?" Harry asked, removing his glasses as the thought occurred to him. He glanced at them as they appeared blurry in his hands, and frowned. His eyesight really was bad.

"What? Of course not. Why ever would I hit on you? Not only are you blind, but it appears you're delusional too. Did someone spike your pumpkin juice at dinner or something?" The blond scoffed.

"Course not. I'm not fortunate enough to get booze snuck into my drinks like you are." Harry claimed, crossing his arms over his chest, glasses resting on his thigh.

"How did you know?"

"Everybody knows. You're not as sly as you think, lowering your goblet and dumping vials into them. Am I really such a horrible person to sit beside at dinner that you must get drunk just to get through a meal?" The green-eyed wizard sounded truly offended.

"Perhaps, or maybe I'm just used to having drinks. Since my father's arrest, I have grown quite used to them."

Harry frowned, twirling the frames of his glasses in his hands. He'd figured that his father's arrest had to have been hard on him and his mother. He found that Draco hadn't talked much of his mother as of recent, and found that the blond distracted himself with absolutely any time consuming thing he could.

"Are you alright?" He asked after a moment, placing the glasses back on his face so he could see the Slytherin clearly.

Draco stared at him with wide eyes, tight-lipped and arms crossed over his chest in an aristocratic pout. He leant forward a bit, and then snapped his eyes away.

"What's it to you if I'm not?" He asked.

"Well, you just seem more... mellow. You're not your fiery self. Did something happen?" Harry asked, wringing his hands together as he struggled to find the right words to say.

"You mean beside everyone I care about getting arrested by the alleged 'good guys?,' oh, how are you everyone's favorite? You're a real idiot sometimes."

"Draco, we're just trying to do our jobs."

"We? Potter, you're a professor. Not an Auror. Weasley's an Auror though, and he probably gets a kick out of my loved ones being locked away, doesn't he?"

"He doesn't talk about you. Why would he?" Harry admitted, feeling defensive of his friend.

"Because I'm Draco Malfoy: Ex Death Eater, son of the most loyal follower of Lord Voldemort, an aristocratic wizard who instead faces probation because Harry Potter, the Golden Boy, showed pity on him. Why did you show pity on me, Potter?" The blond asked, an arrogant sneer curling on his thin lips.

"Because I believe there is a way to be good again." Harry's voice came as just above a whisper, and caused the blond to shut up almost immediately.

"Good again?" Draco muttered. "Good again? Seriously, even after the war's done and over with, and you're proven to be a true hero, you still want to sway me to be good? To be your friend? Pardon me, I must be going mad, but wasn't it you that rejected my hand in friendship in our first year?"

"You were being a bully to Ron. I could've been your friend if you hadn't have continued to treat the ones that I care about like rubbish." Harry explained, frowning.

"Oh, don't worry you're getting me back now, alright. Father's in prison, Blaise is in prison, Mother's gone batty, Aunt Bella's dead..."

"Oh, don't you dare get me started on dead people, Malfoy."

"And why not?"

"Because you're not the only one who lost people in the war. Stop being such a stuck up prat for one second, and perhaps take in the perspectives of other people. You wanna be an equal to me, Malfoy? Then get off your damn high horse and let go of all your pent up rage towards me. Maybe then this bond'll break, and if you really want, you'll never have to put up with me again. I assure you the moment this line fades, I'll be gone, as that is so clearly what you've stated that you wish I'd do." And with that, Harry stormed towards their sleeping quarters and closed the hangings on his bed, casting a Muffliato charm and let out a few angry screams as he nestled into his bed, facing away from the door.