As it was wont to do, school took up the majority of the next three days. The tests were not so much grades as markers of how badly prepared they were for the NEWTS at the end of the year; full of everything from first to seventh-year curriculum, including things they were never taught but were still expected to know.

Not that Draco didn't see Potter, they ate to together a few times and tried to study together, which was a disaster. When they weren't distracted by glances and staring at one another, they were flirting, which somehow always ended up as teasing that was 'very disruptive', as Pince put it when she was ordering them to separate tables, 'unless they wanted to leave altogether'. The Slytherin dungeons were the exact opposite of a good study environment, so Draco forced himself to behave.

There were a lot of stolen kisses, and two very memorable snogs in dark corners and empty rooms. Draco was very pleased with Potter's growing boldness, but he kept having to remind himself not to get too excited. Potter still hadn't told more of his friends, much less anyone else, about their- their- could he even call it a proper relationship? It felt like more than just a casual fling; it wasn't friends with benefits or Draco would imagine there'd be a lot more benefits. Yet it was still a tenuous secretive thing. Not that is would be smart or advisable to be in any sort of public relationship with Harry-fucking-Potter especially being ex-deatheater Draco Malfoy. But Potter could've at least talked to him about it not being a good idea.

Draco finished packing his bag and shrunk it down, slipping it into his pocket as he joined Pansy in the common room to walk to the train together.

"I feel like someone used a scourgify on my brain," Pansy said, "Or should. I'm looking forward to not thinking about anything for two weeks."

"Nothing?" Draco asked raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," Pansy repeated, "except for maybe the new spring lines."

The corner of Draco's mouth twitched, "Ah."

"Which doesn't count because I enjoy it," Pansy said.

Draco grinned, "Of course not."

Draco walked closer to Pansy as they got neared the doors and the crowds grew thicker, full of shouting and laughter. They made sure to stay at the back. Crowds made him nervous.

"Ah, err- Malfoy!" Potter called, trying to push his way through the crowd without actually pushing anyone. But, for him, most people moved anyway.

Pansy waited until Potter had reached his side and then nudged Draco and fell back a few steps.

"You're taking the train?" Potter asked.

Draco looked at the line of children he was currently following to the train station and said sarcastically, "No."

Potter hesitated, "All the other eighth years are flooing or apparating back from Hogsmeade."

"I had my apparition licence revoked," Draco said, "And all the manor's floos have been gated as part of Mother's house arrest."

"So you're taking the train back," Potter said.

"So I'm taking the train back."

Potter grimaced.

"Walk me to the station?" Draco asked.

"Yeah," Potter said as if he hadn't already been doing so. "Why'd they-"

"Take my apparition licence?"

Potter nodded.

"Because they could," Draco said, "All the stipulations of my release came from the members of the Wizgamot that argued for my imprisonment."

Potter reached out, grabbing Draco's arm and squeezing it. He looked at his own hand like it had moved without his permission and pulled it back to chest, tugging absent-mindedly at his jacket.

"It's still fine," Draco said, "It's not as if I didn't deserve worse."

Potter stiffened.

Draco rolled his eyes, "I did things that that other people were sent to azkaban for. I did take the mark."

"You were just a kid," Potter said.

"So were you," Draco said right back.

Potter pulled off his hat so he could push his fingers through his hair.

"If anyone other than you had spoken for me at my trial, I'd be in azkaban right now," Draco said.

"You saved me at the manor."

"You pulled me from the fire," Draco said.

"I couldn't just-" Potter frowned and shook his head.

"Neither could I." Draco said.

Potter sighed.

"It's fine."

Potter frowned at him.

"I'm not saying I enjoy the experience," Draco said, "Having to ride the knight bus all the way to Wiltshire is a punishment in its own right."

Potter's eyes widened, "You ride the knight bus?"

"Unfortunately," Draco said.

Potter looked as though he was trying very hard not to laugh, "Really?"

Draco didn't dignify that with a response.

"I just- when the bus goes around the corner, and you're sliding across the floor in one of those purple chairs-" Potter crossed his arms across his chest and furrowed his brow, sticking out his lower lip in a pout, all in all making him look like a constipated neanderthal.

"That's-!" Draco shoved him in indignation.

Potter threw his head back and laughed.

Draco felt himself starting to pout and bit his bottom lip. "Rude," he huffed.

Potter slowed down as they reached the train platform.

"The train doesn't leave for a while yet," Draco said, grabbing Potter's wrist and pulling him on board. He had to go two cars down before he found an empty compartment, one of the small ones with only a single bench. He slid the door shut behind them, pressing Potter back against it and kissing him. He felt Potter's hands pushed under his cloak and robes, sliding over his shirt, a thin layer of cotton separating them.

Draco shifted closer, pressing Potter tighter to the door as he kissed him, wanted to feel every heated line of his body. And Potter pressed back even as he shuddered like he wasn't entirely in control of his own desire.

There was a tap on the door that made them both jump and Pansy called, "The train is leaving in ten minutes."

Draco leaned back with a groan.

"Have a happy christmas?" Potter said breathlessly.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Really, Potter?"

"What?"

Draco shook his head and said softly, "Think of me over the break."

"Um," Potter said.

Draco cupped Potters cheek, "Especially when you're masturbating."

"Malfoy!" Potter smacked his shoulder.

Draco had to bite down on the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. Potter's face was hot under his fingers, "I mean it. Think of me when you come."

"Merlin." Potter said faintly. "You're-"

Pansy tapped on the door again, "Five minutes."

The train's whistle rang out.

Draco kissed him again and pulled the door open.

Pansy was leaning on the windows outside, arms crossed, "Unless you want to try your hand at aparating off a moving train you should probably go."

"I- okay," Potter hesitated, "bye."

Draco leaned out the door as Potter stepped off the train, "Have a happy christmas, Potter!"

"Pervert," Pansy said as she pushed past him and into the small compartment.

Draco slammed the door shut, heat flooding his cheeks, "You heard?"

"I heard you being a pervert," Pansy said.

"You think everyone's a pervert." Draco retorted.

"For the love of Merlin- Does this look like a soundproofed wall to you?" Pansy reached behind her and rapped loudly on the thin panel, "A thick stone wall? An artfully constructed silencing charm? A-"

"Yes. Fine. Shut up." Draco said shortly.

"No." Pansy said, "I had to listen to it, I'm not going to shut up just-"

"You didn't have to listen," Draco turned to glare at her.

Pansy narrowed her eyes, "I did. Because if I could hear it, anyone else who walked through could as well. I had to scare off a pack of second-years."

Draco deflated and dropped onto the seat next to Pansy, "I thought I was careful."

"You were until you opened your mouth, " Pansy said. She took the Daily Prophet out from under her arm and unfolded it, "I stole this from one of the brats I hexed."

Draco took the paper from her with a grimace. The headline read 'Deatheater's Revenge?' with several bylines underneath 'Hogwarts Beware. Is a new plot unfolding? Is Our Hero Safe?'. The centre of the paper was half filled with a picture of Potter and him walking back to Hogwarts, Draco's arm around Potter's waist to keep him upright. It was taken from the back and was too far away to make anything out other than their hair, which was unfortunately very distinctive.

"The article itself is mostly just conjecture and fear-mongering." Pansy said, "The only actual information is from a few interviews with students that say you've been hanging out with Potter a lot lately. Of course, that Dour woman makes it sound like you're keeping a knife to his throat."

"I would think she was ill if she didn't assume the absolute worst," Draco said and sighed.

Pansy snatched the paper back and threw it on the ground in disgust.

Draco said, "I was hoping she'd go for a more charitable angle, that I was Potter's new pity project or something... but I knew it was unlikely."

"You're going to have to be so careful-"

"I know," Draco said.

"One toe out of line-"

"I know." Draco said impatiently, "I knew as soon as I started school again something like this was going to happen."

"It's going to worse because of him."

"Potter?" Draco asked.

"No, the bloody Minister of Magic. Of course, I mean Potter," Pansy snipped.

Draco rolled his eyes, "He's not going to let them throw me in azkaban if I haven't done anything."

"Even if you break up?" Pansy said, "Even if he decides he doesn't want the whole world knowing he likes blokes?"

Draco raised an eyebrow, "He saved my life when he hated me, and I was a deatheater. He's Harry Potter."

Pansy slumped down, kicking the newspaper irritably, "Yes, alright."

Draco leaned down, rescuing the front page of the paper, folding it and tucking it into an inside pocket.

"Hey! I stole that fair and square!" Pansy said.

"And I stole it from you."

Pansy kicked at his boot, "What do you want with it anyway? If I were you, I'd want to light it on fire, along with all the papers and the press and maybe Skeeter as well."

"I'm on the front page," Draco said.

Pansy narrowed her eyes.

Draco lifted his chin, "I've hardly been in the paper at all, much less the front page."

"You're the worst," Pansy said flatly.

"I don't expect you to understand. You've never been on the front page."

Pansy said, "Oh, go put it in your scrapbook."

"I don't have a scrapbook," Draco said stiffly.

It was an album, not a scrapbook.

They talked for a few minutes more, then Pansy fell asleep on Draco's shoulder and he took out a book and read the rest of the way to the station.

They waited on the train until it was empty and the platform had only a few people loitering around, making their way out through a crush of muggles in strange clothes. Pansy kept slowing down to look at them with a mixture of curiosity and interest. They walked down a side street until they were away from the crowds and Draco drew out his wand holding it up.

"You can apparate back," Draco offered without much hope, "You don't have to ride with me."

Pansy just grinned.

When the purple monstrosity skidded to a halt in front of them, Pansy shot up the stairs, racing to pick her favourite chair while Draco paid their fare. Draco picked a heavy chair that he hoped couldn't move much. Across from him, Pansy pulled her feet up onto the cushions of the smaller chair just as the bus lurched forward. Her chair skidded past him towards the back of the bus: she was already starting to giggle.

Draco gripped the arms of his chair so hard his fingertips went white.

Luckily, once they were outside London the hurling around corners and squeezing between muggle automobiles dropped enough that Draco was able to pry his hands loose from where they were trying to become one with the upholstery. Just in time as well because if he had to listen to Pansy laughing like a hyena for even a second longer, he was going to throw her out a window. He didn't know what she enjoyed more sliding around on the chair or watching him suffer. Knowing Pansy, it was both.

The bus dropped them off at the massive wrought iron fence of Manor, the gate swinging open as soon as Draco approached. The manor loomed over them as they approached, shadows catching and growing in places they never had when he was young. The bushes and grass had gone brown, and if weren't for the biting cold, he could have mistaken it for fall.

Kipper, the head elf, opened the door as they approached and gave a fussy little bow, "Welcome home, Master Draco."

Mother was waiting, wearing dress robes, hair done up in a neat bun like she was heading to a ministry function rather than greeting her son. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her but fell open as Draco stepped inside and swept him into a hug, "Welcome back."

"Thank you, Mother," Draco said, hugging her back with care.

Tulip had been waiting at Mother's side, wearing a yellow pastel pillowcase and holding her camera in both hands, shaking with excitement, "Family photograph!"

Kipper glared at her and cleared his throat meaningfully as he closed the door.

Tulip ignored him, "The Master is home! There has to be a photo for the memory!"

Mother stepped back with an apologetic smile, "I'm afraid I said she could."

"I'll head up and put my things away," Pansy said.

Mother stopped her with a wave, "Stay, won't you? It would be nice to have a photo of all of us."

Pansy frowned and then quickly conjured a mirror, setting her hair and make-up to rights in a few waves of her wand too quick to tell one charm from another.

Mother pulled Draco to her right and Pansy to her left, arranging them both to her liking before loosely clasping her arms in front of herself and putting on a smile.

Draco felt himself falling into the pose without thinking, one hand on his mother's shoulder, the other placed behind his own back. Before his face could set into practised indifference he was distracted by Tulip, "You've forgotten the lens cap, Tulip."

Tulip quickly fumbled the cap off and sent it skittering across the tiles.

"Your finger's in the way."

Tulip quickly pulled all her fingers in and held the sides of the camera with even more determination.

Draco couldn't stop the creeping grin, "You'll get a better photo if you hold the camera straight."

Tulip tilted her head to one side, somehow resulting in the camera straightening.

"Oh, stop fussing," Mother said.

"I'm just helping," Draco said, voice edged with amusement.

Pansy snorted, "Like you know anything about photography."

Draco said, "It doesn't take a genius."

"It takes a camera, which you don't have," Pansy said primly

"You two," Mother chastised gently, a genuine smile having taken the place of the fake one.

"All done!" Tulip said with a bounce, "Tulip got a very good picture!"

"I'm looking forward to seeing it, Tulip," Mother said, "Do make four prints will you?"

Pansy said, "Oh, I don't-"

"Tulip will do that," Tulip said, "Should I now? Or later?"

"Now would be fine. I won't be needing you until later," Mother said.

Tulip bobbed in something like a bow or a curtsy and apparated with a snap.

"Your bags," Kipper said sourly, his eyes mostly hidden by an impressive set of eyebrows, though his scowl of disapproval was quite apparent.

"I'll take care of my own bags," Pansy said, "I'd like to lie down before dinner."

"Of course. Travel can be so tiresome," Mother said.

Pansy hesitated, "Thank you for having me again."

"It's been a delight. I wouldn't have it any other way," Mother said.

Pansy smiled faintly and headed down the hallway, taking the stairs to the eastern wing.

Draco looked around the entry hall; white polished marble tiles rang under his feet where once black stone had stood. The once dour grey stone walls, before only marginally improved by tapestries and portraits, were now an off-white, smoothed and brightened by three layers of plaster. Each layer was imbued with protection and purification spells to bind the lingering dark magic to the stone and keep it from leeching out.

"You've finished renovations on the east wing?" Draco asked.

"Recently," Mother said, taking his arm and guiding him down the hall, "I completed the entrance hall this week."

"You're not taxing yourself are you?" Draco asked.

Mother gave him arch look, "Not in the slightest. My schedule is the same as it was this summer."

Draco let her lead him to all the rooms and hallways that had been plastered and tiled since he left. Most of the paintings were still all stacked against the walls, tapestries rolled up and put out of the way, making the manor feel newly built and yet abandoned. It was still far better than before when shadows crept and grew, and a dark unease pervading every room.

"How has school been?" Mother asked as she finally opened the doors to her favourite sitting room.

It was one of a handful of rooms that was fully painted and decorated. The only portraits on the walls were of flowers. A steaming tea service was waiting for them.

Draco sat on a large pale blue sofa, "You've received my letters, haven't you?"

"Yes, every week." Mother sat on the other end of the sofa and charmed the teapot to fill their cups and add sugar, cream to hers, "But I also know you don't want to worry me."

"Which has worried you. It seems I've failed quite badly," Draco said lightly.

Mother smiled briefly and then shifted to her serious expression, "I am glad your studies are going well, but there has to be more than that."

"I've brewed as well," Draco said.

"Draco has anyone-"

"No." Draco said quickly to cut her off, "It's not..." he sighed and picked up his tea to give himself something to do, "The fact of the matter is that I am mostly just ignored. The students prefer to act like I don't exist and the teachers are strict but not unfair. I have Pansy and my brewing and studies to keep me occupied."

"Pansy owled me-"

Draco groaned.

"-She said you havn't been eating well lately," Mother said.

"I'm fine."

Mother brushed her hand over his cheek, "You're pale."

"I'm always pale," Draco said, knowing he couldn't change her mind.

"I'll have the elves put a nutrient potion with your meals, and you'll have your digestive tea with breakfast," Mother said.

Draco sighed.

"Does it have to do with headline today?" Mother asked.

Draco's cup rattled in his hands and he quickly set it down.

Mother picked up her own cup and took a delicate sip before just as carefully replacing it back in the saucer, "You have befriended Harry Potter?"

Draco cleared his throat and said as coolly as he could manage, "It's been going remarkably well, all things considered."

Mother's brow furrowed faintly.

Draco went on before she could fill in the silence, "Of course it's been stressful. Potter and I don't exactly have the best history."

Mother stared down at cup, her expression unreadable, "Things will be difficult. Are sure this is what you want?"

Draco blinked and drew in an uneven breath, "Yes. It is." he said.

Mother nodded minutely and floated a plate of scones in front of him, "Have a scone. There's clotted cream and fresh preserves."

Draco had two.