"I think you're ready for step two," Pansy said sliding down the leather couch and dropping her head in his lap.

Draco blanched, "It's only been a few days."

"And you've done marvellously," Pansy said in a tone that wasn't sincere in the slightest.

"That's a blatant lie," Draco said, jabbing a finger at her, "Granger was suspicious, and Weasley kept snarling at me-"

"Lucky you're not trying to woo him then."

Draco curled his lip in disgust, " Ugh . Why would you inflict that idea on me?"

"Because it's funny," Pansy said, "True though. Don't worry about the odd pair when it's Potter you're after."

"Quieter, if you please," Draco said, glancing anxiously around the Slytherin common room.

Pansy rolled her eyes, "Are you serious? No one is going to pay the slightest attention to you going on about Potter ." She raised her hands above her head dramatically, "Potter, Potter, POTTER !"

Draco winced and cautiously looked around again. They were just as ignored as before, though it seemed like a lot of people were rolling their eyes.

"And the fact of the matter is, Draco," Pansy poked the bottom of his chin with a perfectly manicured fingernail, "that Potter's reactions to you the last couple days have been nothing less than miraculous."

Draco pushed her hand away with a frown, "He hasn't done anything."

"Exactly?" Pansy said in a how dim are you tone of voice. "You normally fight like children as soon as you lay eyes on each other. Instead, he's been as weirdly mute as you."

"It's not weird," Draco said automatically.

Pansy stared at him flatly.

"That's- That was the plan!" Draco snapped.

Pansy sighed, "Yes, and it's working, but he's going to forget you exist if you stop here and I'm getting bored. So...step two."

Draco slouched backwards, the leather couch creaking faintly.

Pansy glared at him, "It's not the end of the world. You just have to greet him like a normal human being."

Draco slouched further down, crossing his arms over his chest.

Pansy pushed herself back up, "You are such a child."

"I'm nervous," Draco muttered.

Pansy sighed and sat next to him, matching him shoulder to shoulder, "You think I don't know that? No one knows you better than I do."

"Unfortunately true," Draco agreed morosely.

Pansy snorted, "I wouldn't have bothered if you hadn't got your head out of your arse after- everything. You're lucky I was willing to give you a second chance."

"Yes, yes, I know. Must you rub it in?" Draco said.

Pansy sniffed, "For at least another year and a half I'd say. Since that's how long you were so inconsiderate towards those that cared about you."

"Pansy," Draco said, shaking his head slightly, "I would have never exposed you to him and the things he intended."

Pansy smacked his leg as hard as she could.

"Fucking fuck, Pansy!" Draco jumped, rubbing his thigh, which was probably going to bruise.

"That was my decision to make, not yours," Pansy said acidly.

They sat in silence for a minute, brooding.

"In the end," Pansy said quietly, "We... weren't really friends before the war, not proper friends."

"You were a bit of a cunt," Draco said.

Pansy snickered, "And you were an unbearable arsehole."

"I was a very charismatic arsehole."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "You're still an arsehole, just not an unbearable one. You can be as charismatic as you want if it makes you feel better. Now about Potter."

Draco groaned.

Pansy smiled faintly and elbowed him in the side, "Just pretend he's not Potter. Greet him like an acquaintance, and you'll be snogging in short order."

"Please keep your optimism to yourself. It makes me uncomfortable," Draco said.

Pansy glared at him and raised her hand menacingly, "I will hit you again."

  '~*~' 

Step 2: Greet him in the hallways so he remembers you exist.

Draco couldn't sleep and was running late for breakfast. He was finishing the knot of his tie on the way, not paying attention, and nearly ran into someone.

"Watch where you're going, ferret," Weasley snapped.

Draco hesitated, giving his rational mind just enough time to take control. He took a deep breath and stepped to the side, careful not to look directly at the Weasel and let his temper get the upper hand, "Pardon me," he murmured.

He felt his eyes drawn to Potter's shock of wild black hair and locked eyes with him. By Merlin's grace, Potter's eyes were the loveliest shade of green.

Draco swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded to Potter, "Good morning," he said, his voice mostly steady and quickly stepped past them into the great hall.

He moved quickly, hoping to outpace the growing heat on his cheeks, sitting at the end of the Slytherin table. He tossed a few pieces of toast on his plate and picked up the teapot.

"What was that?"

Draco jumped, tea sloshing out over his plate and soaking his toast. Draco frowned at the mess and carried the frown up to Potter. Potter glared back at him, one hand braced on the end of the table.

"Seriously, Malfoy, what are you doing?" Potter demanded.

Draco wasn't sure if this was against the rules of their plan but was fairly certain silence would only infuriate Potter. "Breakfast." He looked down at his soggy plate and vanished the ruined toast.

"Not that. What's with you? By the door?" Potter gestured back to the entrance.

Draco picked up a fresh piece of toast and deliberately set it on his plate so he would have something to look at other than Potter. He did his best to respond as if Potter were a ministry official or his solicitor, "It's polite to greet someone you know."

"Then in class lately," Potter went on with another sudden gesture.

Draco felt a flutter of anxiety in his gut, "Yes?" he asked, picking up the neglected teapot and filling the cup in front of himself.

"You've been sitting next to me!" Potter said.

Draco's stomach clenched, he held his breath, "Am I bothering you?"

Potter hesitated, his brow furrowing. He looked down the table and was suddenly aware that all of Slytherin was staring at him, along with most of the school. He took a step back, "We'll finish this later," he said quietly and stomped out of the hall, a storm of whispers following in his wake.

Draco breathed out.

He had no idea what he would have done if Potter had said yes. If he couldn't even get close to Potter, the plan was over. He wasn't certain if it had even begun. There was no way it could come to fruition. It was just a way to get this silly crush out of his system.

"Move." Pansy said impatiently to the second year sitting next to Draco, "Take your plate and go. Hurry up; I haven't got all day," she waved her hand, almost sitting on the twelve-year-old trying to scramble out of her way.

"Did you hear everything?" Draco asked.

"Everyone did. Potter wasn't exactly subtle, not that he ever has been," Pansy said, taking a handful of grapes and popping one in her mouth. With her free hand, she dropped a cube of sugar and a dollop of cream into Draco's cup and dragged it closer to him in a rattle of wood on china, "Drink."

"I don't-" Draco protested.

"eel like it. I don't care. You'll drink your tea and have some toast, two or three slices," Pansy plucked two more slices of toast and dropped them on his plate, "You'll be whining about being starving halfway through charms, and we both know it."

Draco knew if his anxiety got the better of him he might lose his appetite for the rest of the day. Still, he took a few bites and washed it down with a sip of tea.

"It's not as bad as it seems," Pansy said, popping another grape into her mouth.

Draco sulkily chewed on the edge of his toast, "It seems quite bad."

"You would think that," Pansy said, utterly unimpressed, "but Potter wasn't angry. Impatient and annoyed, maybe suspicious but at least he wasn't angry, and that is an improvement."

"An improvement," Draco repeated flatly.

Pansy threw a grape at his head and missed quite badly, "When you're starting at the bottom of the shit pit, covered in shit, anything is an improvement."

"You're disgusting," Draco said, trying not to smile.

Pansy smirked with pleasure, "Thank you. Now finish your fucking toast."

  '~*~' 

After Class, the note read in Potter's messy scrawl. Draco took the little scrap of parchment from the edge of his desk and carefully hid it under his notes. He turned back to his parchment, writing down everything the Professor said to keep his mind busy.

He packed up immediately after class and made his way down the hallway, feeling a small sense of satisfaction to hear Potter scrambling after him.

"Malfoy! Malfoy!" Potter snapped as he caught up, "Didn't you see my note?!"

"I did," Draco said smoothly.

"Why didn't you wait?" Potter said still trying to shove his crumpled class notes into his bag.

Draco just barely managed to keep from rolling his eyes, "I'm afraid your little scrap didn't include those instructions. In fact, it included no relevant information what-so-ever."

Potter huffed and grabbed Draco by the elbow, jerking him into a nearby room.

Draco stumbled and was only just able to collect himself by the time Potter closed and locked the door behind them. "Ominous," Draco muttered, looking around the dusty room, "Not where I would have chosen."

"You can pick next time, then," Potter said sarcastically, dropping his bag on the floor.

Draco quirked a brief smile, he was a great fan of Potter's sarcasm.

"Look, Malfoy, just tell me what you're up to, alright?" Potter said.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "Nothing nefarious." He hesitated and looked away, "It's not a repeat of sixth year. I can give you my word on that."

He glanced over to see Potter swallowing hard, his expression frozen. Draco was glad though, in an unpleasant, bitter sort of way, that sixth year still affected Potter after everything else that had happened.

Potter cleared his throat roughly, "Ron thinks you're planning to trick me, like the bit with the dementor costume in third year and Hermione thinks you're trying to get close to me to help your reputation."

"What reputation? No. And no," Draco said.

Potter nodded in agreement.

After a pause, Draco asked, "And what do you think, Potter?"

Potter stared at him with a faint frown like he wasn't quite sure of the answer himself. He opened his mouth and then closed it, his brow furrowing. He caught Draco watching him, and the furrow deepened. "I- Has someone put you up to it? Are you being-" he hesitated, "-harassed?"

The answer left Draco feeling cold and inexplicably sad. He should have known better than to hope.  "No," he said, his voice sounding flat and hollow in his own ears.

"It's not just about you, I'm not trying to save you or anything- it's just not right. Not after the war and everything," Potter said with that set in his jaw that meant he really truly believed it.

"So noble," Draco sighed, "But still no. I'm sure even you wouldn't begrudge the occasional dark look and muttered word. But to assuage your unending desire to save the world, I haven't been cursed, assaulted or blackmailed."

"I'm not trying to the save the world- or you," Potter said pointedly.

"I know that quite well,"Draco said faintly. He walked over to the door, untangling Potter's hasty locking spell with a wordless counter-charm and grasped the handle.

Potter put his hand against the door, pressing just hard enough to slow Draco down, "Where are you going?"

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Just- tell me," Potter said.

"Where would be the fun in that?" Draco said.

Potter gawped at him.

Draco took a step out and hesitated, turning back for just a second, "But feel free to bring me any more theories you might come up with so I can tell you that you're wrong."

"I- wait!" Potter called, snatching up his bag and following after him.

Draco pulled his bag higher onto his shoulder and hurried down the hallway, stepping onto the stairs just as they began to move. He heard Potter come up just a little too late followed by a string of curses. He didn't look back.