No one else seemed to question Lupin's and Black's relationship, and even Draco was half distracted from the fact that he'd apparently just come out to the Weasleys. (He'd been so sure he'd already done that.) From what Draco gathered, Black was content with what they had while Lupin was pining.

Draco didn't want to know what it would feel to be in love with your best friend. He had more than enough problems already and was glad that there were still some that he hadn't. So he decided not to interfere. Sirius happiness was none of his concern.

This was how Draco found himself getting ready to go on the train to Hogwarts on the first of September, despite finding the mere idea of it wild and irresponsible. Apparently, no one else seemed to have a problem with inviting a murderer to school.

Harry had somehow managed to get him new, perfectly fitting robes for the year, along with all the school books he needed. Harry had also packed his stuff for him and was humming a tune as he helped Draco put everything in the trunk of a rented car. Was that nurse, manager, husband or gentleman behaviour? Draco didn't know but he hated it.

There were a lot of questions that Draco had but didn't ask. Like, for example, who the hell had given them the car? It looked like one of the ministry cars, but how could that be when the ministry was split?

Draco would love to name what model the car was, but he quite honestly had no idea. All his strange new love for muggles and their inventions aside, he never inherited their obsession for metal carriages. They were too small on the inside. Draco much preferred the tube. Although these cars, at least, had an extension spell for the inside.

Sirius decided to join them transformed as a dog. A big, barking, excited, semi groomed dog. It was only then that Draco understood why they called him Padfoot. Draco wished he had the energy to be surprised. But after everything he'd been through, he was rather unfazed by the whole thing.

Black must have spent a long time as a dog because he acted perfectly like one. He barked at random pigeons, snuggled up to be patted and waggled his tail like he was overjoyed to be allowed a ride in a car. Draco was too tired to question it.

During their departure, Draco noticed how Remus didn't seem very happy to let Sirius go. His look spoke of sadness and longing. Whether it was for Sirius, or Sirius taking the job that Remus had loved, Draco wasn't quite sure. Maybe both. Probably both. How long was it legally allowed to be oblivious to someone's feelings? The most shocking part of their non existing relationship, Draco thought, was that Sirius would normally have been dead by now. So, they had NEVER been a thing. Severus, Draco thought aghast, had gaslighted him.

Anyway, Draco doubtfully glanced at the car. He didn't move, even as Harry held the door open for him. "I still don't think this is a great idea," Draco said, forcing his mind back to the present, as everyone else had already disappeared in the car. "It's not too late to leave me here."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Hogwarts is the safest place for both of us."

Draco squinted at him. "I highly doubt that. Remember first year? When you almost died? Or second year? When you also almost died? Or third year, when you had the choice to either be eaten by a Werewolf or get your soul sucked out by a Dementor? Or fourth year, when a Death Eater invaded the school and almost got you killed, and fifth year, when Umbridge was there to torture you, and you literally died in the ministry, and sixth year -"

"Draco, I get it." Harry chuckled. "Just get in the car."

"I really don't get how you find this funny. I know Umbridge was a bitch but she had a point, you know? Hogwarts didn't exactly care about the SAFETY of its students. I mean, boggarts? Dementors? Hippogriffs? Not to mention the unforgivable curses. Dumbledore said NOTHING when fake Moody taught us those. And remember when in first grade, we were sent to the forbidden forest, even though Dumbledore told us that anyone who entered that place would die a horrible death? Last month, I murdered people. Quite literally."

"Draco, shut up and get in." Harry gave him that look that made Draco sigh.

Then he did as he was told. "Who's driving?"

"Mr. Weasley," said Harry and squished himself beside him.

"Really? Can't I drive?"

"Better not." Harry secured his safety belt and urged Draco to do the same. He offered no explanation but his glance told Draco everything. Draco may have a drivers license and muggles were easy to be confused with magic, even if they got stopped by them but Draco tended to have mental episodes that could put them all in danger if he were the one driving. Draco remembered that a second too late and was thankful that Harry hadn't said it out loud.

The rest of the Weasleys were already half asleep in the car as they began to move. Sirius was heckling at the window. He really seemed to prefer his animal form. Perhaps because dogs didn't have to wear seat belts. Draco found them suffocating.

Molly and Arthur Weasley, in the meantime, kept riling each other up with their poor time management and that made Draco a bit anxious that they might miss the train.

"Hey, Potter," Draco said because the silence in the car was even more suffocating than the seat belt. "- if you're back in time, does that mean you also collapsed? In the future, I mean. You said that I did."

Harry blinked. "Probably." He pressed his lips into a thin line, suddenly uncomfortable.

"The Muggles might think that what I had was contagious," Draco pointed out, referring to the hospital that his body allegedly slept in. "That might cause a panic."

"I'm sure Hermione will come up with a solution," Potter answered calmly.

Draco halted as he noticed something.

For someone who had left so much behind, Potter had been smiling a lot these last couple of days. Shouldn't he be missing his wife? His kids? His friends? Draco still missed his job, but that was the limit of how much he cared about the future. Potter had so much more that he'd left behind. Yet, he'd been focused on Draco's recovery and that only. It was visible now that he didn't take the whole thing as easily as he made it seem, but he also didn't panic. Draco wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. It made him feel sort of guilty.

Ron perked up, saving Potter from the questioning. "Which Hermione? Yours? Why would she work in a muggle hospital?"

Harry belled out a laugh while the car passed by several red lights.

Dear GOD where did Arthur Weasley get his drivers license? Draco grabbed a handle and held on tight.

"No, Ron, she doesn't work in a hospital. She's prime minister. She just manages about everything. And she's probably the best minister we've had in decades."

"Wow." Ron sounded impressed, yet unsurprised. "What do I become in the future? What's my job?"

"What do you expect?" Draco answered for Harry. "You're a famous Auror."

Ronald's smile grew wide. Draco was only glad that none of the twins were there to ask the same question. They had returned to their store 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' in diagon alley just the day before and Draco really didn't want to answer their questions about the future. Saying: "Hey, you lost your ear and the other one died, sorry I can't really tell you apart, could be the other way around," may not be the best thing to say.

"Nice. What am I?," asked Ginny. "Please don't tell me I give up my future for a husband and kids."

Harry chuckled a bit awkwardly. "No, you manage to balance family and your job quite well. You work for the Daily prophet as a Quidditch correspondent."

"Not a player?," she pouted a bit. "Well, it's not the worst, I guess."

Harry awkwardly cleared his throat.

Draco watched him with quiet irritation. Why was Potter not telling his future wife who she would become? That didn't need to be a secret, Ginevra had always had heart eyes for him and she seemed to have grown up enough from her awkward crush phase. Potter seemed strangely distant and uncomfortable... Perhaps, Draco thought, it had to do with the age difference. This Ginny wasn't Potter's wife, just like the younger Potter hadn't been Draco's true nemesis.

When Potter noticed Draco's glance, he quickly averted his gaze again. "Anyway-"

"And what's with Draco?" Ginny asked curiously before Draco even got the chance to question that reaction. "Found the man of your dreams yet?" She winked, playing at the game from before.

Draco blinked. "I... erm...married Greengrass. Do you know about the arranged marriage?"

She nodded, not all that shocked. "And what do you do for a living?"

"I -er - work in muggle therapy. Just er... listening to their problems and trying to help?"

Ginny's eyebrows shot up. "What? You? Why?" Her confusion, Draco supposed, came from the fact that Draco was a mental disaster, seemingly unfit for the job, and less that he used to be a Death Eater. Either way, he thought the confusion was absolutely warranted. It had often felt like a strange joke he was telling himself.

Draco shrugged. "Let's just say that I have a lot to make up for. And working there... it just... it feels like I'm doing something right. I mean, I'm not very good at it. Mental health isn't exactly something you learn in Hogwarts and I kind of... cheated my way into the business with magic. But it's nice. I have my own office, lots of patients whose lives are as shitty as my own, and I mean... it helps me deal with my own problems, too."

"He completely turned his back on everyone." Harry accused with a slight snarl. "He didn't even come to ou-, I mean, MY wedding. He's horrible. Utterly the worst. And then he just revolutionises magical medicine by writing a perfectly profound handbook on mental health for wizards. Ginny, Hermione CRIED while reading it!"

"He used CITATIONS?!" Ginny said and covered her mouth. "Oh my god. Did she propose to him yet?"

"Didn't have the chance," said Harry. "The idiot had to travel in time before she could."

"You guys are ridiculous." Draco shook his head. "I was already married, remember, Potter?"

To Draco's actual shock, Potter whacked him on the head.

"OW! What was that for?"

The fact that Harry just hit him didn't really get better by watching Ginny and Ron both laugh at him from that angle.

"THAT-" Potter crossed his arms defiantly, "-was for calling me 'Potter'." Harry pouted and crossed his arms. "I will keep doing that from now on. Call me Harry already. You managed fine last year, I don't understand why you would stop."

Draco grimaced. He couldn't quite well explain to him that he needed the distance that the name put between them. A professional distance, so that Draco didn't get the stupid idea to get attached. "Alright. I'll try."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Somehow, I don't believe you. I should hit you again just to make sure."

He didn't get to do that, thankfully, as the car came to a halt in a parking lot at the train station. They must have used magic to get it because there was NO WAY that they found a free spot during work hours in the middle of central London. It was busy on the streets, muggles and wizards passed each other in long streams of movement.

Finally, they got out of the stuffy car and grabbed their things to hurry towards platform 9¾. And beyond the wall between platform 9 and 10.

Molly and Arthur were the last who went through the wall and shushed the Teenagers towards the whistling train. Draco suspected that they suspected him of trying to run off. And not just because the thought had entered his mind once or twice.

Sirius didn't even bother turning back to his human form which simply meant that Harry and Ron had to carry his stuff as well. If Draco were to guess, he'd say that Sirius wanted to make a dramatic entrance, or face reveal or something.

It sort of reminded him of the rumour in first year about the Grimm, which in hindsight had definitely Sirius Black. Only Sirius Black would be so stupid to sit on the tribunes to watch Quidditch. (And yes, of course Draco remembered exactly where the 'bad omen' had been seen. That had been the game when the Dementors attacked and Potter fell from his broom and almost died!) What a glorious disguise, it would be incredibly stupid of Sirius to give that up.

"Feels weird to be back." Harry said, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Draco wished he had more time to unpack the emotion in those words, but found himself being distracted by the stares at the platform. There were whispers and pointers and gasps. Just them standing there, attracted a lot of attention. Draco had never imagined how fucking STRESSFUL it was to be known so publicly. No wonder Potter hated it so much.

Then Draco remembered that they were both proclaimed dead. So much for useful disguises.

Draco swallowed hard, then directed his focus back to Potter.

Harry helped Draco put their stuff on the train and stored them away for the houseelfs to take care of later. Sirius tapped between them and let any student pet him in any compartment they passed through. Most students seemed delighted until they saw Draco and decided to move on with their fragile lives. In fact, Draco did hear some people mutter that Draco was being followed by the Grimm. Draco supposed his own death wasn't as well known as Potter's was. Most were, of course, shell shocked to see Potter alive. It was a bit of a mess.

Harry locked eyes with Draco and pulled him out of his thoughts. "You will have to go to the prefect compartment with Ron and Ginny, don't you? Will you be okay?"

Draco nodded in surprise. He had completely forgotten about that. "I mean... I guess?"

Harry nodded. "You can trust Hermione and Ron, you know that right? If even that fails, just look for me and Sirius. We'll be here somewhere."

"Right. Thanks." Draco said awkwardly and stored the last of his stuff away. "Oh erm, can you say 'hi' to Neville and Luna? I haven't really gotten the chance to apologise to them yet. I mean... I just left and... I dunno." It occurred to Draco then, that it was absolutely likely that neither of them would trust him anymore. Perhaps ever again. What about Granger anyway? Wasn't she normally a regular guest at the Weasley household? Where had she been all summer? Worry began to gnaw on Draco.

Harry smiled. "Will do. I'm sure they'll be glad to hear that you're alright."

Draco didn't quite believe that.

Ron waited for Draco to join him and his sister while Harry and Sirius disappeared in the aisles with the compartments for regular students.

Suddenly, Ron put a friendly arm around Draco's shoulder unprompted. It was as if he wanted to make a statement. Draco felt awfully protected by the gesture and for once let him do it. As they walked through the compartments, Draco gathered a lot of fearful glances and pointed fingers. Draco crossed his arms in an instinctual defensive move and wished he'd have something to cover his face with. It didn't help that his mark was burning on and off these days.

Eventually, they reached the compartment for the prefects, where Hermione was just instructing the new prefects on their responsibilities. Draco's nerves immediately spiked at the sight of her, possible reaction making him freeze in place. When Draco, Ron and Ginny entered, quite a few of the students present froze. Hermione turned to them, first to Ron, then to Draco. Then she let out a relieved sigh and forgot what she was instructing the poor students on. She skipped towards them and practically fell around Draco's neck in a warm hug. "Thank Merlin you're okay, Draco." She quickly let go of him to fully scan him, leaving him completely dumbfounded. "When you disappeared, god, we were all so terrified. You have no idea!"

Draco couldn't have been more startled. "YOU were worried? About me?"

She disbelievingly punched him in the shoulder. "I mean, sure I thought you turned sides.... but... Neville and Luna were so certain that you were good... And Harry forced us to keep quiet about his death to protect you. He nearly destroyed Dumbledore's entire office when Dumbledore questioned us what happened. So I figured you were doing something stupid." She sent him a smile. "I'm glad you're alive."

Draco couldn't help but stare at her. He opened his mouth to say something but Ron seemed to know what went on in his brain because he answered for her. "Your boggart, Draco. Neville and Luna were convinced that it proved your innocence somehow. It took them a while to convince Hermione, but after you came back and Harry told us everything... well... I suppose it's always been there somehow. Sorry I was more sceptical than them."

"Oh." Draco swallowed and felt awfully touched. "Thank you... for your trust."

Hermione's smile fell somewhat. "Harry sent me a letter. It's true then, isn't it? You're from the future and your boggart?"

Draco nodded, fully aware of their little prefect audience and played with the sleeve of his left arm. This conversation was likely to spread through the school in no time. Truth was, the boggart had always been true. Now the image in the mirror matched it.

Hermione hugged him one more time until she noticed his awkwardness and let go. Then she motioned him, Ginny and Ron to take a seat, so she could continue teaching the newbies what their job was. Granger had priorities after all.

The students were, of course, all somewhat more terrified of her than before.

At some point, Pansy Parkinson entered the compartment as well. She glanced at Draco once, then pressed her lips together and silently sat down somewhere else. Draco had the distinct feeling that he should be feeling guilty.

It reminded him of the fact that he still hadn't spoken to Theo about his father.

Draco only saw Harry again when they were headed for the carriages on school grounds. With him, of course, were Sirius in dog form, Neville and Luna. The latter of the four couldn't have worn wider grins as they did when they surrounded Draco in a group hug. Draco wanted to curse every single one of them but then decided against it. Deep down he knew that affection was a good thing. He just wasn't sure if he was ready for it.

"Thank Merlin you're alright!," said Neville and actually sniffed a little. When he stepped away, he punched Draco in the arm. Draco was too confused to comment on it, but Neville explained himself. "NEVER do that again! I thought You Know Who fed you to his snake!"

Draco swallowed hard. "No. He tried to feed me to inferi."

"To what?," Neville asked.

"I better not tell you what that is." Draco chuckled nervously, rubbing his neck.

"Hey, you guys, are you coming or what?" Harry was grinning at them both, as he opened the carriage for them. "The rest of you had Draco for the entire train ride. It's our turn now." He was completely ignoring the fact that Draco had barely seen anyone but Potter for over a week during summer break.

Ron sighed, as did Hermione, before they and Ginny took another carriage. Sirius was not counted, he just squished himself between their feet and watched the Thestrals with curious big eyes. Draco guessed that Sirius had never seen them pull the carriage. The deaths he witnessed happened after his school time. Sirius tried to pet them with his paw during the ride. Draco just wondered why the hell no one was asking why they had a dog.

"So?," Neville finally asked. "I suppose you can talk openly in front of Harry now, right?"

Draco stared at him.

Neville rolled his eyes. "Harry died, right? His Horkrux should be gone now. I assume you didn't just kill Fudge for fun. Did you find any other Horkruxes?"

Draco pressed his lips into a thin line. He side glanced Harry who raised an amused eyebrow. Draco hadn't told Harry yet that Neville knew. But Potter didn't seem to mind. Perhaps he had figured as much. Draco still felt weird talking about it in front of both of them. "Yeah. I found one. I suppose that means only the snake is left." He sent Harry a questioning glance this time. "Right?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I think so." He quietly counted the Horkruxes on his fingers and nodded to himself.

Neville nodded and fiddled with his hands.

Draco understood why. "Don't worry, Neville. If everything goes right, you won't have to be the one who kills it."

Neville nodded. "I know. I just... I thought it was pretty cool to think that I'm the one who did it."

Draco smiled, finding it easier to support Neville than to talk about his own horrors. "It still is, even if you're not the one doing it this time. You have nothing to prove."

Neville nodded again, but he looked dreamingly into the air. "Yeah, I just think that right now, you've been more of a real Gryffindor than me."

It was like a wall fell from Draco's face. "Excuse me? ME, a Gryffindor?"

Neville shrugged. "You went back to the manor, despite knowing what you would have to do."

"That's not what Gryffindors do. Gryffindors don't lie and kill to survive. They face the bad guy with the truth and either die or defeat them. It's what I hate about you lot. You're heading face first into your death and then you have the gall to be proud of it!"

Harry punched him in the arm again. A lot of people seemed to be doing that lately. "There are different kinds of courage. You saved my life. You saved Sirius life. Because of you, he's not just alive, he is FREE."

"Can you stop making that sound like I did that for selfless reasons? If you die, Voldemort will win this war. I'm more worried for myself than -"

Luna finally chipped in to the conversation. "I think it's romantic. Harry died for you and you died for him." Padfoot's immediately stopped heckling and snapped his neck to stare at her.

"I didn't die though," Draco said, purposely ignoring the initial phrasing, hoping they would all stop talking.

Luna hummed. "There are different kinds of deaths."

After that, they were all silent in the carriage.

It took Draco all his nerves to walk through the double wing doors of the great hall. Harry tried to calm him by reaffirming him that he wasn't alone. But that didn't prepare him for the silence that settled over the great hall when the doors opened upon their entering. Heads turned to them from all tables. Some younger students shied away from Draco, but then, attention turned to Harry. And back were the whispers. "Harry Potter!" "That is HARRY POTTER! He's alive!"

Draco's heart beat nearly tripled. Harry grabbed him by the right arm and pulled him along to the Gryffindor table. Draco let him. It was grounding in a way, although it also put him even more on edge. When he sat down the attention was still on the two of them.

The traitor and the victim, sitting side by side. The whispers grew louder and less understandable. Only when finally everyone had sat down did the hat begin to sing its annual weird song about death and bad omens and unity. For once, Draco was glad for the distraction.

After that, the first years were sorted. Finally, Dumbledore rose from his seat and walked to the podium. He waited a moment until his natural presence demanded silence. He cleared his throat so that his voice echoed all over the great hall.

"Dear students. Welcome to a new year in Hogwarts. Now, I don't want to keep you too long from the festivities. But I have some important announcements to make that cannot wait. The ministry has ordered Professor Umbridge to return to her usual duties in the ministry, which of course means that this year, you will have a new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts." Dumbledore didn't offer an explanation as to why Umbridge had left but Draco assumed it was because the ministry's claims that Dumbledore were senile and irresponsible had died with Potter. It was very Dumbledore of him to not mention that very obvious reason.

Dumbledore opened his arms in an inviting gesture. At that moment, the doors to the great hall swung open once more and the tall black dog walked into the room. The attention of some of the students immediately turned to him. Dumbledore only nodded at the dog with amusement in his clear blue eyes and continued his speech. The man had the humour of a child. Draco had to admit, he found it amusing too. So THAT's the sort of entrance Sirius had planned. Draco knew it would be dramatic.

"In light of recent events, it is in our upmost interest that all students of Hogwarts learn to properly defend themselves in the face of dark magic-," And okay, that was a jab at Umbridge's teaching methods. Nice. "However, it is in these trying times that it is most essential for us not to judge each other but to build new bridges. We must reevaluate ourselves and the friendships we carry. We must create trust where there is animosity and we must grand second chances where we can. Otherwise we will risk falling apart. Because Voldemort will attack us where we are most vulnerable.

It is for that very reason that this year, we welcome home a man who has been severely misjudged. I have the honour of introducing you to your new Defense teacher, Professor Sirius Black."

The room nearly broke from all the chaos that followed. More gasps were to be heard, along with Harry, Ron and Ginny breaking into laughter as the dog transformed into a well groomed Sirius Black. The man theatrically turned to the students and bowed while half the students were nearly frozen at their tables. Some were shouting their protests out loud, but Sirius took it all in like they had thrown flowers at his welcome. "The honour is all mine, Professor D."

Dumbledore's expression never changed as he waved for Sirius to sit down next to Professor McGonagall who was among the few people who clapped. Though she did look pleasantly annoyed. Professor Snape, on the other hand, couldn't have looked more sour. No surprise there. Snape had now officially lost his desired job position to two people whom he actively despised. Draco wanted to feel sorry... But he really didn't.

And well... that's how their sixth year started. Surprisingly not with a mental break-down on Draco's part but with the announcement that two considered murderers sat between perfectly normal Hogwarts students, both of them somehow connected to the boy who lived far too many times.

Another shock hit to the younger Gryffindors students later that evening. They must have been somewhat relieved to find that the evil Draco Malfoy was a Slytherin and therefore couldn't possibly follow them to the Gryffindor tower. That was until ... Draco did.

Well... technically, Draco wasn't FOLLOWING them. He had his prefect duties to attend to first which meant showing the new Slytherins the way to the dungeons. After that, however, he went to the Gryffindor tower as well.

Or tried to. If Draco had been proud of himself managing to get up the stairs at Grimmauld place without passing out, imagine the horror he experienced after he faced the impossible task of walking up to the 7th floor, all the way from the dungeons. He truly must be a menacing and terrifying sight, sweating and nearly fainting in increasingly shorter intervals as he tried to heave himself up the stairs. It probably took him a little over an hour to mount the entire thing on his own.

At the top of the stairs, Draco felt so sick that he nearly forgot the password for the Gryffindor dorm.

The fat lady had been informed of the special circumstances. Not that she was pleased to let a Slytherin into her dorm room. Which is how Draco walked in on the new excited and somewhat terrified students, only to see them screaming as they scattered about to find their bedrooms like a bunch of skitty cockroaches.

In a way it was funny. At one kid, Draco focused a fake scowl with his tired eyes. Perhaps, Draco thought, the sweating, the hollow eyes and pale exhaustion made him look a bit like a wild animal. The kid froze, their friends standing beside them trying to defend him, stupid Gryffindors. Then Draco lowered his voice and said: "Are you scared of me, little Gryffins? Scared of a Slytherin?"

Before they could answer, Draco changed his scowl into a mad grimace. "Well done. You should be. 10 points to Gryffindor."

Then he left.

No one laughed, which really was a waste for Draco's humorist talents. Until Draco looked up to find that the younger students had chosen to hide behind Harry Potter. Potter wore a nasty grin, his arms crossed and his feet tapping like he was going to scold Draco for being late. People needed to stop glorifying the man, it had ruined his ego, Draco thought.

Draco came to a halt before Harry a moment, just looking at him. Harry looked so... expectant. As if Draco was meant to say or do something. The truth was, Draco was exhausted. Were the circumstances different, he may have begun this conversation by staging a duel or something. As it was, Draco had no energy left. Looking at Harry felt like he didn't need to play strong anymore and his determination left him in a rush of a breath. He hadn't even known how much he had to force himself to stand upright. There had been the stairs, of course, but other than that? His mask fell and he simply sank into Harry's open arms. He couldn't prevent it. He was just as surprised by it as Potter apparently was.

Yet, the other man chuckled as he caught him. "That exhausted?," he asked as if it wasn't obvious.

Draco just groaned into his shoulder and let Harry rub his back a little. "How do you think I feel after taking so many bloody stairs!"

Bone mush. Bone mush was the answer.

Harry shook his head. "Yeah yeah. The stairs can't hurt you anymore."

Turns out that was a lie. Because Harry dragged him towards the stairs that lead to the boys dorms. "Are you kidding me? The bedrooms are UPSTAIRS?"

Harry chuckled again and completely ignored the audience that sneaked after them at a save distance. Draco glared at Harry, mostly for fun, but he DID feel like his legs would make him regret today in the morning. "I'm not taking another set of stairs, Potter."

Harry whacked him on the head, reminding him to use his first name. "Well, if you won't go by yourself, I'll have to drag you there."

"This is starting to become a reoccurring theme with you," said Draco, narrowing his eyes, but he couldn't say that that didn't sound very enticing. He wouldn't mind a little carrying.

Harry ignored him and raised his wand at Draco. A moment later, he was thrown onto the top floor. Right. How could he forget. In Hogwarts, they could use magic. Draco groaned, as he got back up after hitting the ground. He raised his own wand, prepared to fight him, but Harry was just laughing. Muttering nonsensical things, Draco put his wand away. It took a moment for Harry to follow, but Draco waited for him anyway. He had no interest in entering the Gryffindor boy's dorm unannounced. Who knows how the other sixth years would react when there was suddenly a Slytherin in their room.

Harry patted his shoulder once and then stepped into the room. To Draco's surprise, he saw no unfamiliar faces there. There was Ron, Neville and then two apparently vacant beds that seemed to have been cleared in a hurry.

Harry noted his confused gaze, then shook his head. "Ron and Hermione made sure everyone knows that you're staying here on Dumbledore's orders. Don't worry about Dean and Seamus. Dean did this in our fourth year, too. His family thought Dumbledore was a liar then. This year they seem to believe he went insane. Seamus just went with him, I guess."

Draco nodded, feeling only somewhat less confused. There had been put an extra bed in here with green curtains. It stood on the opposite end, vertical to Harry's and Ron's bed. It didn't have the best place in the long rectangular room, as it felt like it was mostly in the way, really. But Harry and Ron were far enough in a corner that the bed didn't bother anyone BUT them. Draco's things had also been put at the end of his bed. Minus his family owl, of course. That one remained in the manor to sooner or later become snake food. Draco shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bed.

He caught Ronald's gaze who then allowed himself a useless comment. "To think we're sharing a bedroom with a Slytherin." He looked more amused than annoyed, much to Draco's relief. Of all the golden trio, he seemed to be the hardest nut to crack. With his general tendency to mistrust and all. Draco was still shocked that out of all of them, he apparently respected the Weasley most.

"Imagine how I feel," Draco replied.

"He complained about the stairs," said Harry, which then made Ron snort. Oh... Potter didn't believe that Draco actually struggled with the stairs. Alright then. Potter was a horrible person and should rot in the nearest gutter, Draco decided without the heat.

Neville had just put his things away, then he walked over to the three of them. "You know, I think we should put Dean's and Seamus' beds away and put Draco's in their stead. I feel a bit left out over there." He pointed at his bed that was on the other side of the room, while the three of their's were crowded in their corner.

"He's right," said Harry and raised his wand. "If it's only the four of us, we can divide the place more evenly." The two spare beds disappeared with a wave of his wand, and Draco's things, with him ON the bed, were transported over there. Then Harry did the same with all the beds, so they all had a quarter of the room for themselves. Now Draco's bed was set between Harry's and Neville's. Draco's bed was gently put on the ground and Harry put his wand away.

Ron stared at him with an open mouth. "Wow, Harry. You can use nonverbal spells?"

Harry laughed. "Yeah. Took me a while to get them right. Don't worry, we'll learn them this year. Right Draco? I know you're good at them, too."

Draco huffed and lay back down to groan. Being levitated around the room was less fun than it sounded. Sarah had invited Draco to an amusement park once. Draco had NOT survived the rides. "They are useful," he admitted, trying not to think about the lonely days in the manor. "But if you want a competent teacher, ask Hermione. She's already mastered it, I suppose."

"I don't think knowing everything automatically makes you a good teacher," said Neville thoughtfully. "I mean, she taught herself, but she's already smart. She just gets it all. I think someone who has more struggles with learning might understand better what parts the students don't understand. And then knows what to explain better. Though of course, Hermione probably knows all the ways to teach someone things, too," he lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling with a frown.

Draco turned his head to him. "You should be a teacher, Neville. You'd be great."

Of course, Harry agreed. "Yeah. You really are."

Neville turned his head to Harry. "I AM?"

"Will be," Draco and Harry said in unison and it was almost creepy how in sync they were.

"I swear to god, the two of you know far too much about us. You should be wary of them, Neville. They know about all our mistakes. Even the ones we haven't even made yet," said Ronald and slipped under the covers.

Harry laughed and began to change into his pyjamas. He didn't deny it because it was true. Draco decided to be sensible and get changed as well without looking in anyone's direction. Once done, he lay back down on the bed and wondered if he would be able to sleep now.

In Grimmauld place, he had still struggled with sleep, despite the fact that he had done little else. Nightmares had made him sweat and wake up at least once per hour. Draco was just glad that no one seemed to have heard him. Not even Harry, who had slept only one room over. Now, however, their beds stood side by side. Draco wasn't sure what he would do if he woke everyone in this room up. Then again, he was so exhausted that he doubted he would have enough energy to scream. Who even thought that a 4 hour train right should be concluded with half an hour on a carriage pulled by skeleton horses, only to then eat, and then walk 7 sets of stairs that had never been under any kind of safety revisions? Did you know that in the Muggle world there were regulations on the step's height to avoid accidents? And then you have the stairs in Hogwarts that were enchanted to make you trip, that had Peeves lurking about to throw you down those 7 fucking sets of stairs and... Long story short, Draco's feet hurt.

When Draco finally fell asleep, he was not surprised to dream of snakes messaging his feet, while Kreacher tried to shove more and more pancakes in his face. At the same time, he was given muggle math lessons by a dog that looked suspiciously like Sirius. Followed by a never ending spiral of stairs leading further and further down into darkness.

Draco woke up multiple times that night, to no one's surprise. Not that anyone noticed. It was a silent wake as his dreams were mostly nonsensical and he had trouble remembering what he had originally been scared of. Never the less, it was rough and still exhausting. Eventually, he considered his attempts to continue sleeping fruitless and stood up before any of the others did. Then, he went downstairs to the Gryffindor common room to warm himself up by the fire. Not until after he took a shower, finally.

He would have taken a book with him but since Voldemort only had one Horkrux left and he actually knew what it was, Draco didn't have more to research about. So he simply stared into the fire. It was nice in a way. The sun hadn't set yet and his mind was given some time to rest.

Draco used the time to focus on his breathing and to organise the mess that his life had become. He had time to wonder what was happening to his mother, to hope his father was safe in Azkaban and to wonder what the fuck had crept up Dumbledore's butt that he put Draco in the Gryffindor tower! The last one was perhaps a bit cynical, but it made him laugh and laughing was gold when you had so little reason to.

The fact remained that Draco was back.

He had survived. He had gone to hell and back. Had even taken the mark. He had betrayed Voldemort. Had stolen another Horkrux and almost died in the cave that had broken Dumbledore. It was incredibly ... that's what Neville had said... brave, if not to say.... Gryffindor of him.

The realisation hit him like a train. The fire before him started to burn in his eyes as he forgot to blink. As much as Draco had denied it, he had gone back in time, intending only to survive. To never go back to his Death Eater days. To do his best to support Potter so the idiot wouldn't mess it all up and die and never defeat Voldemort...

But Draco had gone beyond that, hadn't he? He had infiltrated the manor. He had OBLIVIATED Bellatrix Lestrange. He had broken into her vaults completely on his own. He had gone back to Hogwarts, knowing he wouldn't be welcomed back and begged McGonagall to take the Horkrux. And then he had the guts to WANT to live after Voldemort intended to feed him to the inferi. The thoughts swirled in Draco's head, becoming a mush of things.

Even as a couple Gryffindors finally woke up for breakfast and hurriedly moved around him, he weirdly felt like he belonged here. He had done a stupid thing. A stupidly brave thing. HE, Draco Malfoy! The one whom the sorting hat didn't doubt for a second to place into Slytherin! It felt as if he had betrayed himself. Everything he stood for. And it was a good feeling. It was a strangely freeing feeling to go against everything he had been taught to be, and sit here on the side he used to antagonise. Because the side he had been on, he'd hated with a passion. And now he felt like tearing up for making the right choices. If not the right ones, then at least some good, responsible ones. He could deny it all he wanted, but what he had done the past year had felt like good decisions all over. Even the decisions he regretted felt much better than taking the mark that first time around.

The very same mark that had identified him as a coward and a fool, now felt like an achievement. It reminded him that he had done something right. Draco revealed the mark to his naked eye. He only ever touched it on the edges of the tattoo, scared to accidentally call Voldemort otherwise. It was a bit irrational. You needed magical intent to call Voldemort through the tattoo. Still, Draco no longer feared nor hated the mark. He had never been more proud of himself. Draco didn't think he had ever been proud of himself.

Someone plopped down beside him. Draco startled and hurried to cover his arm again, only to find Neville next to him.

"Is that it?," Neville asked. He looked a bit worried as he asked that question, but otherwise not at all judgmental. Draco nodded. He made a split second decision and showed it to him. Neville made a face. "Did it have to be a skull?"

"I asked for one of Martin Miggs, the mad muggle, but Voldemort thought that was childish," Draco retorted, receiving an odd look. He had the distinct feeling that Harry would have laughed. His humour was once again, wasted.

"You know -", Neville said, fiddling with his hands, while Draco covered his arm again. "In the ministry... I saw you crucying Bellatrix Lestrange. Have you done that a lot?"

Oh.

Draco froze. "Using Crucio? No." He looked away, suddenly unable to look Neville in the eye. "You have to really mean it. You have to WANT the person on the other side to hurt. Even with her it wasn't... she shook it off as if it was nothing." Draco couldn't help but wonder if that was a good thing.

"I saw. She said." Neville muttered and pulled his legs onto the couch. He looked somewhat uncomfortable. Like he wanted to ask something, but didn't know how to. "You... you killed Nott's father. They identified the body after you ... he bled out completely."

"Yes," said Draco, feeling even colder. The sectum sempra curse was truly a mad spell. What the fuck, Severus. Draco had faintly hoped that the person would have made it. That someone had come and saved the Death Eater. It hadn't really become a topic at the manor and Draco hadn't dared ask what had happened to the man. Empathy wasn't something he could have risked Voldemort to see. Draco had brushed his first murder aside, too focused on his own damnation. "I didn't mean to hit him."

Neville put a hand on his shoulder, hesitantly. "You meant to hit your aunt. I know. It's why I knew you didn't stage any of it. Who you were last year, I mean. Well... it's one of the things that made me sure of it," said Neville and avoided his eyes. "You know... I knew you suffered under her in your past and... and I knew you were still suffering all through last year. But I guess that moment made me really get just how bad it really is. I mean, that's not quite true. I already understood when I saw your boggart. You were so terrified of going back to that future, but you also looked... relieved when you saw it. I guess I don't fully understand it at all, actually, but... I understand that you went back to that, just to save Harry. I can't quite explain it, I just feel... . I'm proud to call you my friend."

Draco stared at Neville and tried to process the garbled mess that had just come out of his mouth. What did he mean 'relieved'? He wondered what Neville was actually asking, because he had that questioning look in his eyes. It made Draco's heart ache a little. He didn't deserve the approval, but god damn was he craving it. Draco considered Neville for a moment and smiled quietly to himself. It was strange to have friends who were ready to forgive him. To see him not as the perfect Slytherin, but the terrified child he was. And Neville had proven to be a trustworthy and kind friend who deserved nothing but the truth. "I hate myself," Draco admitted after a moment of hesitation and decided not to mention that all the empathy and forgiveness he received felt like far too much.

When Draco saw confusion and sadness well up in Neville's eyes and decided he should explain.

"Or... I thought I did," Draco said quietly. "I didn't go back there to be a hero and I don't think I acted very heroically. I was pretty sure I'd die within days. And I- I did worse things than I ever had to do back then, but I was prepared for that. I was .... I guess I still am prepared to die for the cause of this war. But not because of the future it might bring," Draco grabbed his left sleeve. "Not even because it would be the right thing-" He paused, feeling both better and worse for saying it. "But no, actually-"

Draco felt a tear sting in his eye, though it frustrated him that it just appeared for no reason. He thought of the cave, of his one chance of throwing Voldemort over board with him. He closed his eyes. "I don't think I'm prepared to die at all." He looked up and faced Neville with a quiet internal horror. "I don't want to die, Neville." And wasn't that the crux of it? If Draco truly hated himself, he wouldn't hesitate to get himself killed. He wouldn't be clinging to life the way he had. If Draco were truly a hero, he'd die with a smile on his face, his hopes and principles in tact, not clawing away at corpses with bloody and broken nails to unbury himself to see another day.

Neville's eyes were wide in his surprise. "Draco, no one wants you to die."

Draco wiped off the offending tear and was thankful that Neville didn't mention it. Draco wanted Draco to die. Draco SHOULD want Draco to die. The world would be better off without him, yet he was here. Yet he was selfish enough to keep on living. To want to live.

Neville gave him a moment, before he quietly asked a question that both dug deep and distracted Draco all the same. "Do you really have no one to come back to? Did we ever become friends?"

Draco quickly shook his head. "No. I was your school bully and nothing more. But who knows. Maybe we could have been, eventually, if I had ever accepted Luna's invites for tea."

Neville blinked, clearly caught off guard. He flushed slightly, even as he tried to keep the moment serious. "Luna invites us to tea parties in the future?"

Draco pressed his lips together. He almost let something slip there. Neville looked so hopeful just over tea. "Yeah. You know? She really... keeps us together." Lies. Wholesome lies. Although Draco was a bit surprised to learn that they weren't dating yet. Hadn't Neville taken Luna out on Valentines last year? Or had Luna been acting all Looney and not understood what was going on? Because that would make total sense.

Neville nodded, eyes suddenly far away. Eventually he cleared his throat. The silence seemed to weigh down on him as well. "Well, do you want to go eat something? Harry and Ron are probably sleeping in. They always do the first week of class. Hermione will kick them awake in time, but that will take a while."

Draco was about to answer, when he felt something tickle on his neck. It was like an alerting goosebump. Then, someone cleared their throat from all the way up the stairs to the boy's dorm.

"Is that so?"

As Draco and Neville both looked up, there was Harry Potter walking down the stairs. His black hair as messy as usual and his green eyes blazing with motivation. He looked more mature than ever, with the way he held himself tall and the seemingly endless patience in his aura. He was dressed, which Draco had no way of telling if that was usual or not. That in itself felt weird. Draco prided himself with an unholy amount of knowledge about the man.

(No, he did not keep a copy of Rita Skeeter's biography of Harry Potter from after the war, that one was rubbish. His version was CORRECTED by hand, based on the comments and interviews from the minister of magic herself, with side notes of Harry Potter himself. It's not his fault that Hermione left that thing open in the court room during Draco's trials.)

Draco felt strangely like he was meeting Potter again for the first time in months. As if sleeping had caused a divide that suddenly brought back Draco's self isolation after his trials, as well as Potter's marriage. It took Draco a moment to understand why he felt that way. Then he realised that now that they had arrived in Hogwarts, now that they had spent the first night, Draco was no longer Potter's responsibility. He was no longer his patient.

"Are you two always just meeting up to gossip about Ron and me or is this new?"

Draco frowned. "Nah. I usually complain to Pansy about you. Don't you have a comb?"

Harry grinned playfully and rushed his hand through his hair, which made the nest pleasantly worse. "Trust me, it wouldn't work."

Draco knew that. He had been in Potter's head all year last year. "Ah. That's fair I guess. Didn't your aunt shave it off when you were in muggle school and it just grew back?"

Harry hummed, while Neville seemed scandalised. Which, considering Neville's past, was also an odd reaction. Draco had been terrified when he'd learned what Neville's supposed family had done to test whether or not he was actually a squib. A lot of Neville's anxiety had made sense after that explanation, and Draco had felt horrible for days.

"So glad you remember, Draco. And to your information, yes, I did use to sleep in. But I've grown some better sleeping habits since I finished school. Keeping watch while camping in the wild being hunted by murderous Death Eaters does that to you... And children. It's mostly the children." He grimaced.

Neville sent Draco a side glance. "He REALLY is an older Harry, isn't he?"

"Unfortunately," Draco said at the same moment he realised that Neville KNEW. He blinked. When had Neville learned of it? During the train ride? Had someone sent him a letter? Had the others been up late last night talking about it? WHO the fuck was going around and spread Draco's well kept time travel secret? He'd done such a good job keeping it last year but as soon as Potter was back, BAM, everyone knew. Which, honestly, based on Potter's track record, wasn't THAT surprising. But that wasn't all. It wasn't even the worst part.

Draco had been beyond careless at the ministry when he hadn't denied his feelings for Potter. When he'd found the prophecy concerning Potter and him, Luna had joked about it, and Neville had rightfully pointed out that the younger Potter had a crush on him, and he'd rightfully detected that Draco liked him back, liked the older Harry. And all Draco had managed to retort was that it was complicated. To be fair, Draco hadn't thought he'd see his- this version of Harry again. But Neville knew, he could see it in the mischief in his eyes.

Draco should have pushed Voldemort off that boat and drowned in that cave.

Potter was completely unaware of Draco's internal war and the 'don't you dare,' he sent Neville's way. "Yes, that is unfortunate. Because that means I know what a balanced breakfast should look like and you're not going to skip it today, mister." Potter had something of a mom, sometimes. It was his infuriating side. Draco sighed, but got up anyways. He didn't like being treated like a child, but perhaps he didn't deserve any better. "And Draco? What kept you up tonight?," Harry said and put an arm around Draco's shoulder unprompted. Draco flinched, but didn't push him away. Potter made it sound casual but it was hard to miss the worry when he was scanning Draco all over, forcing Draco to keep down a shiver. "You did sleep, didn't you?" He must have been awake when Draco had gotten up, how else would he know that? Or he had been more aware of Draco's sleeping habits in Grimmauld place than Draco was strictly comfortable with? Draco couldn't read this Potter as well as he could the young one and that was deeply unsettling.

Draco sighed. "I did. On and off."

"Nightmares?" Harry, Neville and Draco made their way through the common room and towards the way down the many steps to the great hall.

"I dreamed that Sirius taught us math."

"Terrifying," Potter nodded seriously. "CAN you do math? No offence, but you were raised a pureblood. Homeschooled I assume?"

"Do you think my homeschool teacher didn't know math? We learn the basics. I had some more advanced algebra in muggle studies last year. I don't think anyone is really suited for math, to be honest. But yes, I did."

"Except Hermione," said Harry.

"Except Hermione," Draco echoed.

Walking downstairs was a lot less infuriating than moving UP. Draco still found himself tiring halfway though. He was breathing hard and his steps sometimes wobbled. He hadn't eaten yet, his sleep had been mediocre at best and his legs hurt from standing and walking so much the day before. His muscles simply weren't up to this yet. Neville and Harry had no such qualms as they simply continued their discussions about math and the not so flawless school system of Hogwarts. Draco only half listened while Neville explained how his grandmother told him math was unnecessary for wizards and he should instead learn how to levitate a grape.

After five sets of stairs, the pressure of Potter's arms on him weighing him down too much to think about their conversation any longer. Draco began to stumble and eventually caught his foot in a trick step. He yelped and would have fallen over, had Harry not been there to catch him. Because nowadays Potter was always there to catch him.

Neville also stopped, while Draco had to regain his balance. "Oh, that one is annoying. I get stuck in it every time."

'Not this time,' Draco didn't say, feeling a bit embarrassed. He held on to the wall on the one side and on Potter on the other. Harry muttered a quick spell so that Draco was free, but he still tumbled down the next few steps until they reached the next platform. "Alright," said Draco and heaved a breath. "Give me a second." Again, he held on to the wall. He had to check both his breathing and the functionality of his feet. That tumble really spooked him there. Heck, he could have BROKEN something!

Harry let go of him, taking the weight off him. "Draco? You okay? You're really red."

Draco huffed while a few other Gryffindor's slipped past them, curiously watching the exchange in passing by. There were far too many students in this school. "Just... too many stairs."

Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wait... you weren't kidding yesterday? I thought you were getting better."

"I AM getting better. It's just a lot of stairs," Draco snarled with frustration. "And I'm undernourished and all that jazz. And I haven't had any of Snape's potions in over a month and... . I'll get used to it. It's just... it's only been a couple weeks, Potter. And I never had to walk so many stairs. I need a moment."

Harry flinched as he always did when Draco slipped into last name territory. This time he didn't hit him though. "Alright. We'll wait. Right, Neville?" Neville nodded. He too, looked concerned, but patient. Harry thought a moment. "We should talk with Snape then. I mean... not right now. But ... I'll go to him after potions."

Draco stared at him. "What?"

Harry shrugged. "I've been meaning to catch up with him anyway. How did you manage without the tinctures in the manor?"

Draco blinked, catching the attempt to change the subject rather early on. "Bad," he responded, not to say 'not at all,' and felt very tired again. He took a few moments to breathe properly. Upon deciding between his needs and his dignity, he eventually sat down on the steps for about five minutes before deciding he was ready to go and get breakfast. Harry helped him back up and made sure not to put more weight on him, nor to comment on his state further. He knew Draco would hate that. Although Draco also hated that he knew that.

Harry matched his pace to Draco's after that, which meant that they were much slower than before. Draco was silently glad for it, even though it took them quite some time to finally make it to the Gryffindor table, where they sat down and Harry pushed orange juice, toast and scrambled eggs in Draco's direction. How that was healthy breakfast, Draco didn't know. Draco didn't even comment on it. He just silently regretted opening up about his feelings.

Neville sat opposite them, clearing his throat, as if he felt he was interrupting something. It must be weird sitting at the Gryffindor table with both of them. One supposedly dead, the other supposedly the reason for it and both being 11 years older than they appeared to be.

Draco considered for a moment, then he began eating. To his own surprise, he didn't feel all that disgusted by the food. Maybe, he thought, it was because he left out the egg. Or because he trusted Potter not to feed him tortured muggle flesh. The thought made Draco grimace. He'd never truly figured out if that really had been what they had been fed at the manor. It could have been a joke. Death Eaters didn't seem like people who would muddy their food with 'mudblood'. But it wasn't a crime he would put past them and that alone made him sick. Or his eating habits simply reflected his will to live. How he had managed to suppress that image for so long, Draco had no idea. But the poisoned cave water had put the memory right back into painful focus.

Harry seemed pleased enough with Draco as he grabbed some toast for himself, his gaze never straying far from Draco.

"So. You two seem pretty close," Neville said randomly.

Draco tried to ignore it, but Harry didn't. "Yeah, I mean... I suppose we've kind of grown on each other." He paused, cringing at his own words. Draco's hand froze in the air for a moment, before he forced himself to move normally again. "I mean, not really. Just... last year has been somewhat confusing. It's a bit difficult to describe. To me it's like 5th year happened twice. And one of them happened parallel to the year after Draco collapsed at work. It's a bit difficult to sort out the differences, because to me, they happened at once.

My positions of those years are complete opposite to one another. In one, I became the auror who's playing nurse for the Death Eater I vouched for, the other is me growing up again and starting to become Daco's friend, despite initially hating him. It's complicated. And last month was kind of a mix of both, I think."

Draco stopped eating. It hadn't even occurred to him to ask Potter about how much he remembered or how he felt.

Neville mouthed in Draco's direction: 'nurse?' Draco pointedly averted his eyes.

Neville then turned back to Potter. "I see. That's how I felt last year in potions. I kept mixing it up with divination. It was like I had both courses at the same time and then I tried telling the future, when we were meant to brew that thing during the exams. Wow, I already forgot what we were meant to make. I can't believe I didn't completely bomb that exam."

Draco frowned. "I really don't think the feeling is quite the same," he muttered, but Harry was grinning and Neville shared his awful humour.

"How was it for you, waking up in the past?," asked Harry, suddenly curious and casually biting into his toast as he addressed an unsuspecting Draco.

Draco hesitated. Why were these people so into talking in the morning? Was he the only one who was tired? "I don't know. I kind of just... ended up in the manor last summer. I don't even know when it happened. You said I collapsed at work, but I don't remember that. I remember going home, going to sleep and then going to breakfast. I only realised what happened when my father was talking bigoted nonsense again and my mark was gone. Then I read the daily prophet and that was it. I had no additional memories about changes or anything. It just happened."

Neville's nodded. "That was the same day you ended up in St. Mungo's, wasn't it?"

Harry looked between them curiously. He had never asked about St. Mungo's, but he was obviously curious, so Draco answered the unspoken question. "Yeah, it was. I realised I wouldn't be able to go to work. And work was the only thing that made me feel less shite about myself. I guess I just... really clung to that a lot."

"You still want to be a therapist, then?" Harry said, making it sound very little like a question.

"I know, it's hard to believe -"

"No. Not really," said Neville. "You were writing with Cho Chang until the ministry incident to help her get over Cedric's death. She was very confused and worried, when you suddenly turned sides. I think she wasn't quite sure whether or not you were bluffing or if you might use her information against Harry. She asked me what I thought and I think she was glad to have a reason to give you the benefit of the doubt. Though she's still... well... not over you killing people. Anyway, you've been doing your best to help her. And me, too."

"How did I help YOU?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

Neville furrowed his eyebrows. "You kept telling me that I belonged in Gryffindor. I know it might not mean much to you, but that really helped me. My family didn't even believe I was good enough to be a wizard. To hear YOU of all people tell me I would end up being a hero... It really helped." Neville smiled. "I mean... it's not technically therapy, but I feel like I improved because of it."

Draco tried to smile. In truth, that only made it sound like no one ever supported Neville fully and always made him feel inferior to others. Draco was at fault for that too. "I just told you what I knew."

"I know." Neville smiled. "That's exactly why. You used to hate my guts and you still present it as a fact. I didn't expect that. It helped."

Harry nodded. "You're much more of a positive influence than you think," he agreed. Then silently, "to me too."

Draco sighed and leaned his face into his hands. "Thanks, I guess." He found those comments doubtful.

Harry laughed. "Good. Now eat your breakfast, before I force feed you. Remember that you have to hand out the time tables for the first year Slytherins."

Draco groaned. "Right." He had completely forgotten about that. Prefect duties. They seemed so unimportant, compared to everything else. He looked at his plate and decided that he might just make the rest of it. So he ate and drank the last bit of his orange juice and then got up from the table. "Well then, I gotta go."

"Take care," said Harry and waved.

Draco waved them both, even though he felt strange doing so. It probably would have felt weirder staying.

Draco still felt tired as he handed out the different time tables for the first and second years. Most of the Slytherin kids looked extremely curious upon spotting him. Some were muttering, but Draco ignored it. Rumours were rumours and he could do nothing to prevent them. So why bother? Even the mark had been a rumour long before it was true. He used to hear tales that he were born with it. Now, however, the stories were quite different.

Some of the kids asked him why he sat at the Gryffindor table, and sleeping in the Gryffindor tower, to which Draco dryly responded with:

"I'm gay." which technically shouldn't count as an answer.

"My father says gay people go to hell," said one of the children. It was a small little thing. Smaller than Draco believed to have ever been himself. The kid had wide brown eyes, and an impressively messy mob of hair.

Messier than Potter's, Draco's mind supplied. "Is your father religious?"

"Yes?"

"Cool. Religious people also said the same thing about witches. Are you a witch?"

"Yes," the tiny voice sounded a little less certain now.

Draco nodded at the kid, trying to sound patient, but coming off snobbish instead. "Do you deserve to go to hell just because some weird dude told you to?"

"Only if I did something very bad." The child held eye contact with Draco. It was mildly threatening.

Draco sighed. "The answer is 'no'. You don't deserve to die just because you exist. Now, listen, please. I will have to show you the school grounds next and I'd rather not have you all get lost on me."

The children began to chatter when suddenly one of them asked: "What does gay mean?"

Draco was beginning to regret his life choices. Seriously, who thought it was a good idea to put HIM in charge of a bunch of 11 year olds? "It means I can't do math, I can't sit properly, I'm colourblind and I find sweaty, disgusting men incredibly attractive."

One of the girls giggled. "He can't do math."

Draco twitched a smile. Though he supposed the colourblind joke was actually funnier. Because he confused green with red? Gryffindor with Slytherin? No? Just him? Alright then.

Were 11 year olds always this rude? He didn't remember ever being like that. And he literally asked Potter to duel him in their first year... . Gosh, he really had to work on his flirting skills. "Alright, kids. Follow me."

Without further ado he showed them around the place. He showed them were herbeology was first. He introduced them to Madame Sprout who seemed surprised to see him there. He explained to them what the forbidden forest was and why it was forbidden. Then he brought them back inside to show them how to navigate the castle. He wouldn't be able to show them everything, but he could at least give them a sense for how the building was constructed and how to find their classrooms. Once he brought them to their first class, he made his way back to the dungeons where potions had already started.

He knew he was late but he didn't bother knocking. Instead, he just let himself fall down at the only remaining empty seat next to Pansy Parkinson. And saw to his surprise, Hermione and Harry being the only Gryffindor's in the room, sitting 'predictably' next to each other. There were significantly less people here than last time with Slughorn, which had to do with Snape's impossible standards for his 6th year classes. Which meant everyone in here had received an O in their O.W.L.s..

Startled, Draco's head snapped back to Harry, who seemed to know what he was thinking, because he winked at him smugly. Potter didn't have an O in potions last time around.

"Mr. Malfoy. Would you explain to class why you're late?" Again startled, Draco snapped his attention back to his Professor. That was odd. Snape didn't normally comment on him being late. Granted, Draco had only been late once before but Snape always excused everything he did. Maybe Draco's new status as half Gryffindor put him into a grey area. From here on out, anything could happen. "Ah yes. I'm very sorry. I was showing the first years around."

There was a pause. Snape didn't blink, didn't change his expression at all. He rarely did. "And why would you do that, Mr. Malfoy? I don't recall prefect duties to include such nonsense. First years are perfectly capable of reading a map."

Draco had hoped for such a comment, if he was completely honest. "That's true, of course. Just one small issue there... There are no maps."

Snape waited another moment to decide whether to take points from Slytherin or share Draco's impeccable humour, thank you very much. Perhaps Snape was considering whether or not he could use this to take points from Gryffindor or to just continue his lesson like a reasonable adult. He decided on the latter, disappointingly. He pursed his lips as he began writing down a recipe at the chalk board. "Make sure this doesn't happen again, Mr. Malfoy."

"Of course, Sir."

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Harry trying to hold in a laugh. Malfoy bit back a satisfied grin. He knew Potter would appreciate his humour.

Draco shook himself out of it while Professor Snape introduced them to a new potion that Draco distinctly remembered brewing when he was still a Death Eater. He could do this one in his sleep.

That's how he got to work with rightful confidence.

True to his word, Draco would not receive any comments on his tinctures, which always was a good sign in potion class... well. For a Gryffindor. Potter, too, seemed to be creating quite the fabulous tincture. Fabulous enough to be ignored. Not better than Granger's though which was also strange, considering how Potter had excelled in this exact tincture in their last run through. Professor Snape scrunched his nose as he leaned over Potter's cauldron before carrying on with his life. Harry didn't seem to deem that enough. In fact, as Draco watched him, Potter seemed somewhat captivated by something located in Severus' face because he didn't seem able to concentrate much beyond it.

"Professor Snape. I would like to know what you think of my potion. I'd say it may be a slight tick off to the original recipe. What do you think?"

Snape frowned at him. Students NEVER asked Snape if their potions were alright. Except Hermione who, again, did not count. "It is... to say it generously, adequate, Mr. Potter. Which is to be expected. Otherwise you would not be here, would you?"

"Of course," said Harry, his smile fading a little. "I was just wondering how you find my work compared to my mother's?" There was no accusation, nor pity or anything in his voice. But the words hung heavy in the air and suddenly it clicked why Potter was so distracted suddenly.

Draco knew Potter better than he should like to admit. There was something in Potter's gaze that Draco could vaguely place as the feeling of seeing your dead teacher coming back to life right before your eyes. It was frightened wonder and irkingly specific for their experience with time travel.

The entire class had gone silent. Granted, there weren't many people here, but that didn't make the feeling any more pleasant. Hermione Granger was so flabbergasted that her wide eyes made her look distinctively like an overgrown owl.

Professor Snape didn't answer right away. "I cannot answer that question, Mr. Potter, seeing as I didn't know your mother. Though considering who your father was-"

Draco bit his lip. Why was Potter even mentioning his mother now of all times?

Harry deflated, slowly regathering his composure. "I've heard much about my father, Professor Snape. Good and bad things. But rarely anyone ever tells me about my mother. I was told she used to be your friend. I thought it would be nice to hear about her from someone who really knew her."

Draco could only blink. He knew, distantly, that Potter had claimed Snape to be on the good side in the past, had talked about his feelings for someone. But until that very moment it had never really clicked in Draco's mind that he'd meant Potter's own MOTHER. Severus Snape had loved Lily Potter. Draco's day could not have turned more absurd.

Snape's eye twitched dangerously. The room had gone so silent you could have heard a pin drop.

All three of them knew it was a lie, Draco realised. No one had told Harry anything in this timeline and Snape, too, knew that Harry was from the future. Dumbledore was supposed to have informed him of it, after all. Him and McGonagall. Draco could pretty much feel the tension in the room. Could feel the other students try figuring out what was happening. Professor Snape was not someone to be messed with and Harry just deliberately stepped into lava.

"Mr. Potter, you would do better to not believe in idle gossip. 30 points from Gryffindor. Now hand in your tincture, before I fail you."

'30 points is high, even for Snape,' Draco noticed with a start. Snape was agitated. It was there, in the deep blackness of his eyes were Draco could see a faint resemblance of pain. To mention Lily Potter was perhaps a mistake. The news would definitely spread in no time and Snape's hatred would probably reach yet unknown heights.

Harry looked rather disappointed, even as he walked to the front desk to hand in his tincture with all the others. Professor Snape didn't look at him, all while Draco blatantly stared at the Professor. He couldn't help it. Professor Snape was harder to read than any potion book Draco had ever come across. And yet, he couldn't have been more transparent in this moment. He seemed totally out of it and for the first time, Draco thought it would be obvious even for someone who didn't know him. Either that or Draco was imagining things.

When Harry had handed Snape the tincture, he paused a moment. "I'm sorry," he said. Draco wouldn't have heard it, weren't he standing directly behind him in line. "For your loss." Snape didn't change his expression one bit and that in itself was a tell. It made Draco nervous. Harry stepped aside and Draco handed in his own tincture. Snape glowered at him but didn't say a word. Draco wondered if the hatred in Snape's eyes was because Draco had ruined his plan to spy on Voldemort or because Draco was friends with Potter.

Then, Draco turned to Harry and whispered: "You do know he still has to make potions for me, right?" Draco didn't dare ask Snape himself. In fact, the more he thought about it, the less it sounded like a good idea to ask him. Draco had deceived him, had ruined his heroic plans and now coexisted with a Potter who knew his best kept secret. Yeah, no, Snape would kill him if they asked.

Harry stopped and his eyes widened. He looked panic stricken. "Oh, right. Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I forgot! I just... I saw him and last time I did, he was... I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking properly!" He looked guilty. The look intensified the more it seemed to dawn on Potter what he had done.

Draco couldn't say he blamed him for it. Last time Potter had seen Snape, he'd been bitten by Nagini. How exactly had Potter found out about Snape's relationship to Lily Potter? "You don't have to tell me. I get it. Every time I see him, I see his corpse, too."

Harry blinked at him in surprise. He slowly turned to Draco, as if he hadn't quite expected Draco to be a totally reasonable person. "You do?"

Draco considered for a moment whether or not to bring it up, then decided against keeping it a secret. "I'm the one who buried him." Draco swallowed and patted him on the shoulder. "It's easy getting distracted when seeing the dead. Which is why I'm afraid you will have to help to make these potions for me."

Harry blinked. "Right." He paused. "Are you sure, you want me to make them for you?"

Draco sighed. "Your tincture just now was adequate to Severus' standard. Which means it was perfect. So yes, it's going to be fine, I'm sure. I'll help you too. Just make sure I don't accidentally put arson in it."

Harry nodded, last year seeming to puzzle back together in his head a bit and he froze. "Do you still do that?" 'Poisoning yourself,' he meant.

Draco sighed. "I wouldn't put it past me."

Harry crossed his arms. "And I let you sleep ALONE in the DA room last year? Am I nuts?" Why was he looking at Draco like he were blaming DRACO for Harry's own ignorance?

Draco shrugged. "Yeah, I was wondering about that, too. You didn't really want to order me around, I guess."

"It was still stupid. Gosh. We need to find the recipes." They barely noticed how they left the dungeons, gathering their belongings quickly. By the time they were stopped by a certain someone, they had already half crossed the hallway outside Snape's classroom. In the corridor waited an impatient looking Pansy Parkinson, while Granger huffed, as she realised that none of them had waited for her. They might have been to deep into their conversation to notice.

"Draco, can we talk?" Pansy sounded... miffed. She looked at Harry. "Alone." Her expression was almost as unreadable as Snape's used to be, which Draco could only admire, really. He caught her gaze and wondered how to dismantle that look.

Harry glanced between them. "Should I wait?"

"No, mom, I'll be fine." Draco stressed the jab with a roll of his eyes. Nursing time was over, Potter needed to stop.

Harry put a hand on his shoulder as if to give Draco a vibe check and a reassurance. "Fine then." He glared at Pansy. "Return him safely, or I'll hear of it."

"Is that supposed to be a threat, Potter?" She stemmed her hand into her hip. "Because you're not intimidating."

Potter's eyes narrowed, which admittedly did make him more threatening, so Draco had to shove him out of the way before the idiot opened his mouth and cursed her or something. Pansy huffed and waited until Harry was out of earshot, before crossing her arms. "He's a right twat. I don't get why you hang out with him."

Draco raised an eyebrow and made sure that Potter was really gone before he put his attention back on her. As he couldn't see or hear (nor feel) Potter's presence, he dropped the act. "What do you want, Pansy."

She glared at him, then sighed before looking down. She didn't seem quite as confident as she had with Potter and that alone was worrisome. She looked around a couple of times too, waited until the other students past by, until she was certain Harry hadn't stayed to eavesdrop. Then her shoulders relaxed and a shadow fell over her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said in a deep breath.

Draco blinked. "What?" He hadn't quite expected THAT. "Why are you apologising? What for?"

"I ghosted you," she said, raising an eyebrow. "All of fifth year." She began fiddling with her hands. "I mean, you deserved it. You just up and left us to be with your new boyfriend, but -" She looked back up, while Draco felt too confused and speechless to answer any of that. He was also wildly reminded of the fact that this girl was 16 years old. Making fun of Draco's relationships was the height of their bully repertoire.

She seemed almost bitter when Draco didn't dispute that comment. "But I did notice that you didn't seem well. It got worse through the entire last year. And I was... I was worried. And I knew that something happened to you... but you wouldn't tell me anything. You didn't talk to any of us, even though we were your friends. You used to tell us everything! And now everyone says you're a Death Eater. I mean, they always have, but ... now I know it's true and ... I just... we used to be friends, Draco! What happened?" She looked awfully lost. In a way that Draco had never seen her before.

Draco stared at her and his gaze softened. He hesitated, but then he pulled up the sleeve to his left arm to see her gasp.

"Draco!" She was stuck between awe and fear. It was a look Draco knew too well. It was one that made him recoil. Because it was the same he had always received during his previous 6th year. It reminded him of his burden and that he was supposed to feel honoured to bear the mark. They had always looked to him for leadership. Thought, he would one day become the new Voldemort. His heir, so to speak. They had followed him down that path. And all of them had gotten lost in it.

He remembered Pansy shouting at everyone in their 7th year that she wanted to join the Death Eaters during the final fight. She was the reason why all Slytherins had collectively been lead from the premises. And he couldn't support that agenda anymore. He just... he had to turn away from that. No matter how much it hurt to leave his oldest friends behind. His heart felt cold and hard just thinking about them. She reached out to touch his arm, but he immediately covered it.

"I... I don't understand," she said, confusion written on her face as she saw his indifference to her worship. All she saw was the coldness, the shame.

Draco sighed. "It's what it looks like. I joined Voldemort. And I bet you've already heard what Voldemort did with me."

She pressed her lips together and shook her head. "You don't seem very dead to me."

Draco met her gaze. "He made me kill people. He made me torture people. I had no choice to say 'no'. I didn't join him because I wanted to, Pansy." The words hung heavy in the air between them. "I betrayed Voldemort a couple weeks ago and he tried to feed me to inferi. That's what happened. If you have a problem with my decisions -"

Pansy stared at him. She looked hurt, as if Draco had physically punched her. She was twitching on her feet, as if unsure what to say to that. Draco sighed.

"That's why I turned my back on you. I don't want to have anything to do with Death Eaters. Not anymore. Not ever again." Draco paused. He knew he was a hypocite, saying that. He should tell her how this - all of this- was his fault, not hers. But he'd just come of as arrogant if he told her he had wanted to protect them just as much as he had wanted to protect himself.

He turned on his heels. He was done with this conversation. He had known it would be inevitable. That eventually, they would want him back. Especially, since he had actually joined the Death Eaters for a while. Since he had killed. He had expected it sooner, really. He knew his explanation left much to be desired and every word hurt. But Pansy used to be his best friend. And she had turned out to be so much like Bellatrix that it was hard to even look at her old self. And Crabbe turned out too much of a bloody monster. And...

"It's Theo," Pansy suddenly said and she sounded a lot weaker than he thought he ever heard her.

Draco stopped in his tracks. He needed a moment to organise his thoughts. That name made his heart constrict with guilt, shame and empathy. He forced his voice into indifference. "What about Theo?"

"He took the mark," she said in an almost whisper and she was shaking. Her voice no longer sounded astounded and full of wonder. It sounded dreadful. It occurred to Draco that the sound was no different from before. It was simply more urgent, more charged with fear. And it dawned on Draco that maybe the astonishment hadn't been an envious one.

Draco turned around. "What?!"

"You killed his father." She had tears in her eyes. It lacked the hatred that Draco had expected to go along with that sentence. She seemed lost, instead. "So the dark lord went to his family and forced him to join! He's been tasked with killing Dumbledore. And it won't take long until HE knows you're alive! And then Theo will have to kill you, too." She sounded helpless. She sounded scared. Pansy Parkinson didn't do scared. "You have to DO something, Draco! You were our leader! You always told us what was the best way to..." She closed her eyes. "I don't know what to do! Everyone expects me to know what to do but I am in way over my head. We need you, Draco."

Draco wordlessly stared at her for a moment as he began to understand something horribly fundamental. Something that made his stomach turn and his heart flip just a tiny bit. Pansy Parkinson did not admired the Dark Mark. Never had. She had admired Draco's choice to take it. Back then, as well as now. Because she had always seen him as an independent leading figure who knew precisely what choices to make. He was the one with the answers and the right decisions. He ran a hand through his blond hair, feeling completely thrown off guard.

This wasn't something he had expected. Though, in hindsight, he should have. He had KNOWN he'd failed them. How had he not realised how lost they would be without him?

Draco cursed himself as he realised his own mistake. Their fall to Nazi-propaganda had been HIS doing all alone, he realised with a start.

Draco was responsible for this. For THEM. And he had abandoned them last year.

Then, Theo's situation finally caught up to him and he pushed those thoughts away as he finally fully understood what was happening. The burning mark- THAT's what had been going on. Panic followed that understanding like a shockwave. He pulled at his hair. No no no no no! That was so not what he'd wanted to happen!

"I'll figure something out," he promised without thinking, as he was reminded of all the possible ways this could go wrong. He tried to sound brave, but he could hear his own voice falter. He remembered too well how it felt to be a pawn for Voldemort, and Theo? Theo had always been too kind of a person to deserve any of this. To be put in that situation. To be trained and tested and punished by the Dark Lord himself. It was Draco's fault. Because he hadn't been there, because he hadn't noticed and because he'd killed Theo's father.

"Draco -" Pansy sounded desperate while Draco fought with his own panic.

"I understand... I just," Draco felt his lungs constrict, as he imagined what Voldemort might have done to Theo. How he had gotten him to take the mark. How he might have made him go through the same things that Draco had tried so desperately to avoid. He shouldn't sound afraid, not when Pansy needed his help, when she expected him to be strong but Draco's eyes were swimming and he kept picturing all the things that had broken his soul.

He turned to her, and pointed a finger in her face. "Theo must NOT respond to the burn! Voldemort can't enter Hogwarts. Theo's safe, as long as he remains here." Draco pulled his hand into a fist. "Watch him. Make sure he doesn't bring cursed items into Hogwarts or sends away any gifts. Make... make sure he doesn't disappear for too long on his own and -"

"Draco," Pansy came closer, she looked confused and Draco realised that his breathing was uneven. "You're... you're really pale."

"Yes, yes. That's not important right now. You have to make sure -"

"Draco!" She shook him. "He has no idea what to do! None of us do! He doesn't even know where to start! He's TERRIFIED. He keeps telling us that he will die and that his mother will die like his father and everyone he cares about will die too. He can't kill Dumbledore! Not even the Dark Lord could! We don't think he expects him to succeed! Theo is a mess, Draco."

Draco paused, trying hastily to think as the words hit him like a brick. Right. Right! Draco had always been the head of their group. He was the one who came up with the plans. Who had the connections. They were just the ones who executed them. Theo may be smart, but he didn't have any connections in Nocturn Alley. He didn't know of the room of requirements and the vanishing cabinet. The boy was about to die with no hope to save himself. Draco grabbed his own hair and pulled at it again. He began to pace, to somehow get his thoughts in order. Theo was a mess. Today was a mess. Draco was a mess.

Draco forced himself to stop in the empty hallway to take deep and even breaths. He had to weigh his options. He should go to Dumbledore. But that might put Theo at risk. Voldemort would likely figure it out because Theo couldn't close his mind off like Draco could. Draco started pacing again, this time in even steps. He didn't have enough time to teach Theo Occlumency, did he? Pansy wisely kept quiet. She knew him, of course. She had seen many of these planning phases of his. Only that this one was far more important than for her to interrupt him and force him to attend one of her tea parties instead.

Maybe - Draco thought - he should tell Harry. Or at least Neville. But then again... Theo was a Slytherin and Pansy had come to him in confidence. Besides, he had to rule out Neville anyway, because the Occlumency problem counted for everyone but Harry. Not that either of them would have to face Voldemort anytime soon. Draco slapped his own face and took another deep breath. Theo was trusting him. He couldn't just tell anyone about this!

"Alright. Alright. We'll find a way," Draco said, sounding a lot calmer than he felt now. "Tell Theo that his secret is save with me."

"It is?," Pansy sounded surprised. "I was sure you'd -" She had doubted him and she came to him anyway. Draco felt a forgotten warmth fill his heart. He hadn't realised how much he had missed his old friends until now. He had always calmed himself by telling himself they didn't care. That they were loyal to Voldemort. Now he realised that that may not be the case. They had just trusted the wrong people. They had trusted Draco.

There was a time when they had just been crones to him. There was a time when they had openly rejected him. Now? Now he wanted to know them better. Wanted to protect the people that had given him a home the first five years of his school life.

"I've been through this," Draco said, even though he knew she wouldn't fully understand. It didn't matter, they didn't need to know it all. "I'll find a way. I can't go with you right now, I have a feeling that Harry will kill you if I do. I'll come to you tonight."

Pansy nodded.

"Unless this is a trap." Suddenly, Draco's paranoia kicked in. If Theo was supposed to kill Draco, too, then this may as well be one. Who knew how much Voldemort already knew? Did he know that Draco was alive and well and in Hogwarts? And even if Theo didn't want to, if he were given the order, he may still do it out of fear!

Pansy's eyes widened in shock. "No! No, I promise! We really... we really need your help. You can take ... you can take Potter with you if you must..." Then she realised that Potter was probably also on Voldemort's murder list and that pulling him in the same trap wasn't reassuring at all. "Or Longbottom. Or... anyone you want. Just... they can't tell anyone, alright?"

Draco nodded slowly, feeling quite relieved. "Of course. You have my word."

"And you have mine," Pansy put her hand on her heart looking as serious as Draco had never seen her before.

He remembered the way she had swooned when Draco had gotten the mark the first time around. That person wasn't here right now. Theo was probably much more open about his pain than Draco had ever been. Draco had presented the mark as an honour, not a burden. Today, that was no longer the case and she had picked up on the seriousness of it all. Draco should have been honest far sooner. Shame overwhelmed him. He couldn't help himself. He pulled her into a hug. "We'll figure this out, I promise." He could hear himself shaking and so did she.

When he pulled away, she locked eyes with him again. "We'll meet up tonight. You know the empty bathroom on the second floor? No one goes there, still. Because -"

"Myrte. Yes, I know the one," Draco said. "Everyone does."

She nodded. "Not even Filch goes there."

Draco contemplated that for a second. Wondering if showing them the room of requirements would be a good idea. Then he decided against it for now. It may be safer from Filch, but it was much less safe on a greater scale of things. They were Slytherins. And if Voldemort knew they knew of the room of requirements, then he'll probably guess that the Diadem was no longer safe. If he hadn't already drawn that conclusion. Draco couldn't risk letting that slip. No. He should stay away from that room to stray suspicion. At least from the room of forgotten things.

In the midst of all his panic, Draco grasped at the silvery tether of hope. Maybe, he thought, maybe he could earn their trust again. Maybe he didn't have to see his friends die and turn to murderers this time around. Maybe he could still save them. Maybe it wasn't too late.