They stopped in at Honeydukes for mountains of sweets and the quill shop for ink. Potter stayed close by his side the whole time, glaring at anyone that hesitated or frowned at Draco. It reminded Draco of shopping with his father when he was young, although his father's respect mainly came from his wealth and political clout- which came from bribes and blackmail, blackmail bought with yet more money. When he was young it was so easy to think his father was great. He had his moments; he was a good husband and a good father- most of the time, but not a great man.

It was getting dark when they made their way into the Three Broomsticks. The pub was overrun with seventh and eighth year Hogwarts students. Potter's lot had taken over one of the large corner tables, dragging another table up to it to fit everyone.

Potter edged through the crowd ahead of Draco and received a sarcastic cheer along with calls of what took him so long.

Potter grabbed a chair and Draco braced himself to join them without Pansy at his back.

Luna shot to her feet before Draco could sit down, "Your cloak is wonderful!"

Draco smiled faintly, "Yes. Thank you."

Luna walked behind him and gasped, "How pretty!" She grabbed his hand and guided him in a turn to show the whole table the back of his cloak.

Quite without realizing he ended caught up talking with Luna and Thomas, making copies of Kate's information and telling everyone to get a piece commissioned.

"You said she's just moved back to England and only been working for a month," Granger said.

Draco leaned back as orders of chips and pitchers of butterbeer were passed around and people shouted over one another about what else to order, "She was trained by Reboux. The famous designer? Robe fashions for the last two generations were shaped by her work! And you saw my cloak. If that's what she's making as inexperienced as she is-?"

"It's nice but..." Granger said doubtfully.

"She's going to be England's next leading designer." Draco said, "All she needs is the money to get started. If she can get a lot of clients-"

"Why don't you just give her the money?" Weasley said.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Because individualised piecework requires a large number of regular patrons. Our population is small, and magic means that clothing can be repaired and renewed for generations. Unique, individualised clothing that can't be bought off the rack in a shop is how a tailor becomes a trendsetter."

"You certainly know a lot about this sort of thing," Granger said.

"I know a lot about a lot of things," Draco said.

Draco sat back as the empty pitchers of butterbeer were replaced with beer and cider along with a multitude of greasy fried food.

Potter got his own plate of chips and started arguing with Weasley about the Cannon's, while Granger began talking with Longbottom and Abbott about the exams their teachers were giving them in the few days before the holidays. Weasley kept reaching over and taking chips from Potter's plate, and every time he did, Potter's hand would twitch just a little, though the expression on his face never changed.

Draco waited until Weasley went to grab another and pulled the plate just out of reach.

"Hey!" Weasley complained.

Draco smirked and moved the plate even further away.

"I'm just saying-!" Weaslette said raising her voice, "-that having a type is bullshit!"

"People totally have types," Finnigan said. "You have a type."

"I don't! That's the whole point!" Weaslette said.

"Both Dean and Luna are weird arty types," Weasley said.

"Dean isn't weird!" Finnigan said and winced, "Sorry, Luna, it's not a bad thing."

"Oh, I know. It's other people who seem to think that," Luna said.

Weasley said, "but Harry doesn't fit. They dated."

Potter and Weaslette looked at another and grimaced.

"That was..." Potter hesitated.

"Weird," Weaslette finished.

"Harry is rather creative on occasion," Granger said.

Thomas raised his hand, "So what's my type then?"

"Fiery!" Longbottom said.

Weaslette and Finnigan laughed.

Luna cradled her cup in both hands, "I haven't dated enough to know really, but kindness is very important to me."

"Mine's Dean." Finnigan said without hesitation, "Never had eyes for anyone else."

Thomas grinned, ducking his head in embarrassment, "You-"

Everyone's eyes turned to their side of the booth.

Weasley vehemently shook his head, "Keep me well out of it."

Weaslette snorted, "You had to get your head out of your arse to even see what was right in front of you."

Weasel's face went red, "S'not that. I knew, but y'know..."

Granger smiled and took his hand.

"Hermione's type though-" Weaslette grinned.

"Jocks?" Finnigan suggested.

"No." Granger said firmly, "It's- they seem strong and simple, but have hidden depths and are kind and loyal, and smart in their own way."

"That's so romantic," Abbott said with a sigh, pressing her hands to her chest.

Weasley managed to turn even more red, hiding his face in his pint.

"Next round?" Finnigan called.

Draco pulled out a handful of coins to pay; drunk Gryffindors were turning out to be fairly entertaining.

"I don't think I have a type," Potter said.

Weasley laughed, nearly choking on his beer.

"What?!" Potter said.

Weasely coughed and wiped his mouth, "You definitely have a type. First off, seeker."

"Seeker's not a type!" Potter protested.

"Smart," Granger added.

Weasley nodded, "Seeker, smart-

"Could match him in a fight, fist or spells," Longbottom added.

Granger laughed.

"Seeker, smart, match him in a fight, and anywhere from a bit clever-" Weasley looked directly at Draco, "-to so annoyingly sarcastic you want to bludgeon them to death half the time."

Draco rolled his eyes.

Longbottom and Abbot talked about their type while everyone else got distracted by personal conversations. Their types were, unsurprisingly, very much like one another. Draco wasn't entirely certain the two of them weren't already dating and just hadn't realised it yet.

"Have you dated anyone?" Potter asked.

"What?" Draco twitched in surprise.

"Dating. Have you?" Potter prompted.

"No," Draco said. "Nothing so formal."

"Not formal- so casual relationships-?"

Draco shook his head, "I'd rather not talk about it."

"What's your type, Malfoy?" Longbottom's voice broke into their conversation.

Draco thought for a moment."Dark hair. Sarcasm is a must. Smart, but not as smart as I am and...." he trailed off, "that's plenty."

Abbott said, "That sounds just like Pansy. You two are always together. Are you dating?"

"I knew I wasn't the only one that thought that," Potter said.

Draco gave Potter a look. He told Abbott, "No. Strictly friends.

"Oh," Abbott frowned, "Are you- I'd always thought she had feelings for you all through school."

"Platonic feelings." Draco said, "She'd throw me off a cliff if I tried to kiss her, not that I would because, as stated before, I am not interested."

Longbottom tried to stifle a laugh that was quickly descending into a drunken giggle.

A tray floated over with yet more beer and a tall, thin glass with layers of pink ice cream, clotted cream and fruit, topped with a cherry.

"A knickerbocker glory, just for you Malfoy!" Weasley said.

The table all cheered and laughed as it floated in front of him.

"As an apology for earlier. I thought it'd be right up your alley," Weasley said with a cheeky grin.

"I think he got you," Potter said.

"Maybe," Draco huffed and reluctantly gave a point to Weasley. He wasn't all too bothered by the teasing though, after all, he did get to eat it.

Draco plucked the cherry off the top and set it on his tongue, sucking the juice off his fingers. He took a spoonful of ice cream and strawberries, smiling around the spoon as he slowly pulled it from between his lips.

Potter watched with wide eyes.

Draco glanced past Potter and saw Weasley had covered his face with both hands and looked to be dying. And thus Draco reclaimed the lead. He grinned, "Thank you, so much Weasley."

Weasley groaned, and Granger rolled her eyes.

"Please stop," Potter said, his voice rough.

Draco swirled the ice cream, "Are you sure?" he asked and took another bite.

"I'll have to leave if you keep doing that," Potter said.

"Go to the loo for a quick wank?" Draco said.

"Malfoy," Potter said.

"Fine," Draco said. "I'm not particularly interested in putting on a show for this lot anyway." He held out the spoon, "Want some?"

Potter hesitated and then took the spoon, having a few bites before handing it back. "It's good."

"Quite," Draco said.

"Oh, Merlin," Longbottom said faintly, "He was describing Harry."

"What?" Abbot asked.

"Nothing! Nothing!" Longbottom said and took a big gulp of cider even though his face was already permanently pink from drink.

Draco ate the rest of the knickerbocker while watching the rest of the table slowly descend into drunkenness. It involved a lot of rude songs, shouted more than sung and rarely finished, as everyone crumbled into laughter halfway through. And everyone seemed to drift closer together.

Thomas and Finnigan were sitting with their chairs pressed side to side, Thomas with his arm around Finnigan's shoulders. Every minute or so they would look at each other and smile. Luna was playing with Weaslette's hand in her lap, and Weaslette kept biting her lip to keep from grinning like a besotted fool. Longbottom and Abbott had fallen into whispered conversation, so they were only inches apart, as Granger leaned her head against Weasley's shoulder.

Draco wished he could reach over and take Potter's hand. Potter was shredding his bar mat, looking as thoughtful as one can with three pints in them. Draco slid his leg over, pressing it to Potter's.

Potter froze and then said abruptly, "I'm going to the loo."

"I'll come," Weasley said.

Draco stood to let them out of the booth, Weasley had to grab hold of Potter to keep upright. When he sat, he found himself right next to Granger who was still working on a second pint and probably the closest to sober after himself.

"You'll take Harry back to the castle?" Granger asked.

Before Draco could even get past the shock that she'd let him take Potter back by himself, Granger added, "I still don't like you much, but you're better than you were, and you're good for him. Harry doesn't pretend everything's okay when he's with you."

"What-?"

"Move," Granger waved at him to stand up again, "I'm going to get us all some water."

Draco stood and Granger headed to the bar. Before he even had a chance to sit again Potter was back.

"I'm done," Potter told the table to a chorus of boos and a few weak cheers.

Weasley slumped back down at the table, "Where's Mione?"

"Getting water," Draco said.

"Good, smart, Mione," Weasley said, laying down on the booth and closing his eyes.

Draco grabbed Potter's coat and scarf, "I'll go back with you?"

Potter nodded, pulling his arms clumsily through the sleeves.

"Night," Potter waved to the table and began making his way through the mess of half empty tables.

Draco pulled his cloak on and followed.

The slush outside was beginning to freeze into a jagged icy crust, with patches of ice as black as the soil just waiting to trip up the unexpected drunk.

Potter stumbled and Draco caught his arm, guiding it around his shoulder, "You're going to end up on your arse."

"No I won't," Potter said.

Draco put his arm around Potter's waist, "Somehow I doubt that."

"I won't because you're holding me up," Potter said astutely.

"If you go ass end over tea kettle I'm not going down with you," Draco said.

Potter frowned at him, "Why aren't you drunk?"

Draco shrugged, "I only had a butterbeer."

"Why?" Potter asked, "Is it because it was all of us? Or your stomach?"

"And miss out on all you Gryffindors acting like morons? Not a chance," he answered evasively.

"Hey!" Potter tried to nudge him and nearly slipped again.

Draco pulled him closer, "Could you stop being so impossible?"

"No," Potter muttered.

They walked through the empty streets in silence. It wasn't until they started down the road to Hogwarts that Potter spoke up again.

"I want to kiss you," Potter said.

"Is that so?"

"Can I?" Potter asked.

Draco bit his lip at the temptation and then shook his head, "No."

"Why not?" Potter pouted.

Draco smiled faintly, "You're drunk, Potter."

"I'm not," Potter said firmly and then entirely ruined the sentiment by slipping and nearly falling in a pile of slush.

Draco pulled Potter back into proper balance, "You're drunk enough."

Potter frowned, "Well, that shouldn't matter seeing as I want to kiss you all the time."

"You do?" Draco raised his eyebrows. "Why don't you then? I certainly wouldn't complain."

Potter groaned, "Because you're gorgeous. And smart. And confident. And I have no idea what I'm doing." He grimaced and tried to pull his knitted hat over his eyes but succeeding in pulling it half off. "I am drunk."

"And a talkative one at that," Draco said, cheeks flushed at the praise.

"No." Potter lied. He took off his hat and shoved it into his pocket, pointlessly trying to pat his messy hair flat.

"Don't bother. That disaster can't be saved," Draco said.

Potter pulled his glove off and stubbornly tried to work his fingers through the tangles.

"Merlin save me," Draco muttered, pulling Potter to a stop and taking a small comb from his robes.

"You carry a comb with you?" Potter said, his tone lost somewhere between amusement and annoyance.

Draco worked the comb through slowly, letting the detangling charms do most of the hard work, "Hair this good takes effort, Potter. Even Pansy needs smoothing charms and her hair hangs straight as a board."

"I rather like your hair after you've just been brewing," Potter muttered, eyes fluttering shut as Draco used his fingers to try and make the wild black hair look on purpose, "Everyone else ends up looking like a mess after brewing and your hair gets all," he made a sweeping motion with his hand, "loose and curling just a bit. Bloody unfair."

Draco hummed thoughtfully and finally had to take his hands back or be forced to admit he was just playing with Potter's hair, "I'll keep that in mind."

"Don't."

"Don't what?" Draco asked, trying, and failing, not grin.

Potter narrowed his eyes, "If you do your hair like that all the time I'll go mad."

"No, you won't," Draco said.

"Yeah, well I'll definitely fail every NEWT I'm trying for," Potter said.

Draco smiled, "I'm flattered."

"Of course you are," Potter muttered.

"I'll make sure to limit myself to times you don't need to concentrate then," Draco said graciously.

"How kind of you," Potter said sarcastically. He hesitated and reached out, taking Draco's hand, "It's getting late, we should get back," he said, starting down the road.

Draco squeezed Potter's hand, "Is it?" he said sarcastically, "I hadn't notice."

"You're such as ass," Potter said.

Draco grinned but kept quiet. Potter had his thinking face on.

Potter took a deep breath and asked, "What are you doing after school? It seems like everyone knows what they're doing."

Draco raised an eyebrow, "Everyone?"

Potter chewed his bottom lip, "Ron's still going for auror, and he says he'll work for George if that doesn't work out. Mione's gonna work in the Ministry. She probably has a ten-year plan to become the Minister of Magic."

"You have to be thirty-five to run," Draco said.

"A fifteen-year plan then." Potter said, "Nev says he wants to help out with the aurors but I'm pretty sure Sprout want him to take over for her, and that'd be a good fit for him. Ginny's gonna play quidditch and Luna's gonna work for the quibbler, Dean wants to be an artist and Seamus has been researching fireworks and explosive magic all year."

"I'm going to assume that you brought this up because you don't know what you want to do," Draco said.

"I-" Potter hesitated and licked his lips, "I thought I did... I want to keep helping people and I thought being an auror would be the best way to do it, for me anyway. But-" he voice dropped to a whisper like he was admitting something horrible, "-I don't really want to."

Draco gave him an incredulous look, "It's more mad to think you would."

Potter nodded with relief, "Yeah. I was- I was going to do it anyway because I couldn't think of anything better but then I saw what you've been doing and thought maybe I could do something like that....but I don't know what that would be either..."

"You can always just get you NEWTS for now and decide later," Draco said.

"But I ought to-"

"Why?" Draco cut him off, "You think the aurors or anyone else is going to turn you down if it takes you a year or five to decide what you want to do? You might live to be two hundred and you're worried about the whole rest of your life now, at eighteen?"

"You make it sound stupid when you put it like that," Potter said.

"That's because it is," Draco said, "Really. Of all people, you have quite literally the option of doing anything you like, even nothing if you wanted. You could be a gentleman of leisure if you wanted."

Potter laughed, "No way! I'd drive myself barmy with nothing to do."

"You could have seven different jobs. You could change jobs every five years. You could move to Borneo and sell ice lollies."

"Ice lollies?" Potter laughed.

They finally got past the trees and followed the lights of the castle across the frozen lawns.

Potter huffed out a breath like a cloud, "What are you doing for Christmas? Do you do Christmas?" he asked, "I always thought it was a bit odd, wizards doing christian holidays, but is there even a magic one? I asked Hermione once, and she started with the year something, pope so and so decided something or other, and I kinda drifted off."

Draco smirked, "We started celebrating christian holidays because it was an excellent way of avoiding being burned at the stake as a witch. The church wasn't keen on pagans, magic or not." Draco said, "Before christmas most celebrated Yule. Its starts at the solstice. It's a celebration of the darkest night of the year ending and the light coming back. The celebration can last for weeks. There's a midwinter festival up at the standing stones every year, but I've never gone."

Potter asked, "Do you celebrate Yule then or-"

"Christmas," Draco said, "Can you imagine any spoiled Malfoy child passing up a holiday all about piles of presents?"

Potter grinned, "No. I can't."

"I'll be with Mother and Pansy," Draco said. "You'll be spending the holidays with the Weasley's?"

"Yeah... It's the first without Fred. I kind of want to just pass on the whole thing, but they've been good to me. I want to be there for them too." Potter went quiet and thoughtful. "During the summer, at the Weasley's, you could feel the gap where Fred ought to have been. All the Weasley's carried one. And Andromeda was just surrounded by emptiness. It's awful."

Draco squeezed Potter's hand.

"People treat you like a gap," Potter said softly, "I noticed it as soon as we came back for school. Everyone treats you like you're not there."

"I don't give a fuck what any of them think," Draco said.

Potter blinked at him.

Draco met his gaze, feeling nervous and defiant in turn. "I spent two years expecting to die, as a threat hanging over my father's head. I'm not going to waste my time even thinking about people who don't care about me."

"I care about you," Potter said.

Draco flushed and looked away, "I wouldn't have put up with you this long if you didn't."

Potter rolled his eyes and shifted closer to their arms were nearly pressed together as they walked. "Do you think you-" he hesitated, "you might ever call me Harry like Pansy said?"

"Maybe," Draco said.

"Maybe when?" Potter asked.

"Maybe when... I feel like I don't have to hold back," Draco said.

"Oh..." Potter said softly. "So-" He broke off as the door opened in front of them.

McGonagall held the door with one foot and opened a small silver pocket watch, making a point of carefully checking the time, "Cutting it a bit close aren't we?"

"It's was quarter past when we left," Draco said.

"And now it's a quarter to. You may be of age, but I'm quite certain no one needs to be out past midnight," McGonagall said archly.

Draco exchanged a look with Potter.

McGonagall raised an unamused eyebrow, "I'm aware you think differently, all young people seem to. Thankfully you're not in charge."

"Yes, Headmistress," Draco said.

Potter tried not to grin.

"Do you know how many were still there when you left?" McGonagall asked.

Potter's brow furrowed, "There was Ron and Hermione... and-"

"Eight in our group," Draco said, "another six at the other tables, I think."

"That's about right," McGonagall said with a frown. "I'll have to ask Hagrid to round them up."

"Are they going to in trouble?" Potter asked, looking over his shoulder.

McGonagall shook her head, "Only if they give Hagrid trouble. I won't have any rascally drunks causing a nuisance in my castle." She looked down at their joined hands, and Potter squeezed so hard Draco's hand ached. She sighed, "Try to keep out of trouble, gentlemen."

Potter grinned. He pointed to himself, "Me get in trouble? Never."

McGonagall sighed again and waved them through the door.

"Good night, Headmistress," Draco said, dragging Potter inside.