The next day found Draco weaved through the library shelves back towards the study tables at the centre of the room, a stack of books floating behind him which he deposited on the table currently occupied by Pansy. She had picked the largest table. It was entirly out of spite because no one would sit anywhere near them even before, but after the Prophet's articles, Draco might as well have been infected with the plague. So even though the library was quite crowded, they had the table all to themselves.

Pansy looked up from the book she was reading, a parchment filled with notes at her elbow, "What all this?" She frowned, tracing the spines with her finger as she read them, "Did we have a do a report for history of magic?... aren't these for muggle studies? You aren't taking muggle studies."

"Not that you'd do a paper for history of magic if there were one," Draco said, sitting next to her and taking down the first book.

Pansy shrugged, "What's the point? NEWTs don't take class scores into account."

"They can help you learn things on the exams."

"Or I can just read the paper you write," Pansy said, "Quit deflecting. What's all this?"

"I'm reading up on labour disputes, and muggle history has a lot more information on that sort of thing," Draco said, flipping to the table of contents and doing his best I'm busy now.

"Why?" Pansy asked stubbornly.

Draco sighed, "To help some... friends."

Pansy's eyes narrowed, "Who? Did Blaise contact you?"

"No."

"Greg?"

"No."

"Theo-"

"No. None of them," Draco said.

Pansy guessed, "Is it... Lovegood? Or... maybe Longbottom?"

"House elves," Draco said shortly, hoping to shut her up.

"Ugh, you're talking with them again?" Pansy rolled her eyes, "I do not understand why you bother. They're so creepy."

"Don't be a bitch," Draco said.

Pansy flipped him off, "You can eat my entire ass."

"Grow up."

"You first."

Draco shook his head and turned to the tenth chapter, "What are you doing then? I know you don't have any assignments."

"Reading," Pansy said.

"Seems a bit far-fetched to me."

"Ha Ha," Pansy laughed flatly. "I wanted to learn the sort of charms they use to make paintings move. Did you know there are thee different types, one causes superficial movement, the other can only be used in front of what's being painted and actually reflects what the painter sees, the last one and most difficult captures a shadow of the person or animal onto the canvas. Like the paintings around the ca-"

Draco saw a group of three near the back of the library standing, Granger and Weasley in front and Harry walking a few steps behind. He was careful to make it seem like he was listening to Pansy as he watched them from the corner of his eye. Harry followed his friends, glancing over at Draco for only a second as he went past his table and flick something white at Draco.

-you listening? At all?"

"Yes, sorry," Draco said, "My mind wandered for a moment. You were telling me about the intricacies of making paintings move."

The flash of white had flown low. Draco glanced under the table and found a small paper aeroplane balanced on his knee.

"Mind wandered to Potter's arse," Pansy said sarcastically.

Draco unfolded the paper and found a small note written in Harry's distinct rough penmanship, Might be late to brewing tonight. McGonagall knows, just wanted to tell you. H

Draco smiled, doing his best to hide it behind his hand.

"You never said how you two made up," Pansy said.

"We talked." Draco added pointedly, "Privately."

Pansy rolled her eyes, "Hoard your dumb secrets. But he apologised right?" She held up her hand and pointed to the shadow of the promise string around her pinky, "This is a lot lighter now."

Draco nodded, looking at his own little shadow of a string.

"Well, good," Pansy conceded.

Draco read over the note one more time before folding it and putting it in his robes.

He froze, hand in pocket, "Wait...If he told McGonagall, then he had to ask permission which means he's leaving the castle grounds...."

"What?"

"And if he leaves after his last lesson, missing dinner but still might be late for brewing then he needs two or three hours..."

Pansy frowned at him, "What are you talking about?"

"He's up to something," Draco said, looking around for his bag which he had left in his room. He asked Pansy, "Can I borrow a pen and two pieces of parchment?"

Pansy took out the paper but held back the quill, "Why?"

"I need to write my solicitor and arrange something. I was going to wait until after the full moon, but I'm not about to let Harry catch up." Draco held out his hand impatiently, "Come on. I can beat him on this one."

Pansy handed over the pen with a grimace, "I don't know what exactly is happening, but you and Potter competing can only mean trouble, and I want none of it."

"We're not kids any more," Draco said pushing the books to the side.

"I can only assume that will make it worse."

Draco shook his head, "Why don't you just tell me about your picture charms."

.

.

That evening, Draco made sure to arrive at McGonagall's office five minutes early, asking as he sat down, "Should I take out my notebook?"

McGonagall took a sip of tea and slowly placed the cup back on the saucer, looking thoroughly unmoved by his cheek, "That will not be necessary this particular evening."

"Ah, are we due a proper conversation then?" Draco asked.

McGonagall sighed, "I see you made up with Harry."

Draco flushed, "I- well... He-he made up with me really. I didn't have any making up to do."

"Mhm. Try to keep it that way," McGonagall said. She passed Draco a cup, filling it with tea and milk and sugar without any prompting from him. "I did want to talk to you."

Draco picked up his cup of tea, holding it with both hands and blowing on it to give himself something to do other than be embarrassed.

"After yesterdays talk about house elves, well, I have to admit I was concerned. That many house elves would be quite a large addition to my responsibilities." McGonagall said, "I spoke with Ras about meeting this 'huddle' Rowena, and he said it wasn't his place and thoroughly avoided the subject after that, even when ordered."

Draco stared at her.

"Talking with other house elves was-" McGonagall shook her head, "-equally frustrating. I'm afraid I need to enlist your assistance in meeting Rowena."

Draco's mind nearly stalled out with the sheer number of things that were wrong with everything McGonagall had just said and yet warred with the fact that she was still his Headmistress and, though she had been good to him, he knew that didn't stop people from turning their back on you if you turned out to be inconvenient or no longer useful.

"Mr Malfoy?"

He stared down at his tea.

She had kept him out of prison and allowed him back to school, so she could easily do the opposite.

"Draco?" McGonagall prompted.

But...

Draco frowned at his hands, "...No."

McGonagall brow rose, "I beg your pardon?"

"No. I won't take you to meet the huddle," Draco said.

"Why?"

Draco took a deep breath, "I took most of my meals last year in the kitchens, and it was a month before I convinced an elf to even talk with me and two before one would say more than a few words. I've barely spoken to the Huddle more than a handful of times." He looked up, anxiously meeting McGonagall's eye, "I am not going to break her trust now."

"I'm not asking you to tell the whole school," McGonagall said, "I can assure you I won't tell another soul."

Draco felt a spark of fire in his chest, and he did his best to keep it from flaring into anger, "It's not about the secret. It's about trust and respect. Rowena and all the house elves of the croft, they're not your responsibility. She took the name Rowena when she was made huddle for a reason, she's wise, she takes care of her own."

"Wise? I've known a great deal more house elves than you in my life, and while I wouldn't call them stupid, per se, they are a bit simple, naive, even," McGonagall said unconvinced.

Draco put his cup down, clattering and slopping tea over into the saucer and over onto the desk as he leaned forward in his seat, "Naive like a people who can't read or write? Who have no schools and were only taught to serve and have almost lost what little history they have? Naive like slaves?"

McGonagall's eyes widened, "Well-"

"The elves are not students of the school, they're not children who don't know what's good for them-

"Mr Malfoy."

"-They need Hogwarts because of the magic here, they don't belong to you or anyone," Draco snapped.

"Control yourself," McGonagall admonished.

Draco sat back. He pulled his bag open and found his copy of the contract hidden in the pages of his arithmancy textbook, handing it across the desk.

McGonagall pushed her glasses down, squinting at the paper, "What's this?"

"The Wizard and House Elf accord of eleven hundred and four," Draco said flatly.

McGonagall read it with a frown and then passed it back, "I have to say, this isn't where I expected this conversation to go in the slightest. And I certainly don't see why you would be invested in it."

"What-?"

McGonagall pushed her glasses back up, "This does not benefit you, has nothing to do with boredom or revenge and you have never shown anything other than contempt for house elves."

Draco looked down blankly at his hands in his lap, his eyes slowly focusing along with his understanding. "...I understand what its like to be forced to agree to a dangerous contract in order to save myself and my family," he curled his left hand into a fist and flexed, the tender scared remains of the dark mark aching slightly at the pull of his skin, "and having that contract ruin the rest of my life. There's nothing I can do to change people's mind about me but if I can help them..."

"I think you might be able to change people's minds more than you think," McGonagall said thoughtfully.

Draco glanced up at her.

McGonagall took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut, "You've once again given me a great deal to think on. And once again surprised me."

Draco carefully put the contract back in his textbook and away in his bag, suddenly wishing he could just go to bed after this meeting and not have to focus on brewing twelve doses of a tricky potion.

"I think I would still like to meet Rowena. To better understand the situation," McGonagall said.

Draco hesitated, "...I'll ask huddle Rowena, but it's up to her."

McGonagall nodded, "That is as good a start as any."

Draco cleaned up the mess his tea had made with a few careful cleaning charms. "Could I head down to the lab early?" he asked once the last drop of tea had been scrubbed away.

McGonagall hesitated and then nodded, "I'll join you shortly."

Harry was just taking off his robes and tossing them over an empty table when Draco eased the door of the potions lab open and stepped inside. "You're-"

"Early," Draco finished, sitting on a stool.

Harry stared at him, taking a few steps closer as he studied Draco, "You okay?" he asked, brushing his hand over Draco's cheek.

"I'll tell you afterwards, if you want," Draco said.

"Oh-" Harry pulled his hand away.

Draco glared at him, "Put that back."

Harry looked from his hand to Draco, carefully pressing his palm to Draco's cheek, "Like this?"

"Mhm," Draco leaned into Harry's hand, closing his eyes.

Harry took another step closer, his other hand curling around the back of Draco's neck.

Draco let his head fall against Harry's chest, and took a few deep breaths before reluctantly pulling away, "Okay, lets clean up and get these potions done so I can go to bed."

"Uh, one thing," Harry said. He pulling Draco back and kissed him far too slow and sweet.

Draco huffed at him as he leaned back from the kiss, "What did I say about flirting during brewing?"

"We haven't started yet," Harry said.

"And yet I am still thoroughly distracted," Draco said throwing up his hands in a melodramatic show of pique.

Harry rolled his eyes, "As if that's enough to throw off your brewing."

"It might be," Draco said, taking out his wand and casting a few cleaning charms over the room.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to brew everything tonight," Harry said, cleaning the other side of the room.

Draco glanced at him from the corner of his eye and called his bluff, "Yes. I suppose there's no choice."

Harry grimaced, "...How about just the last one?"

"The last one doesn't help me now, Harry," Draco said.

Harry studied him and said, "Me messing them all up doesn't help you either."

"That's assuming you mess them up," Draco shot back, "I know you can brew just fine."

"Even you had one explode yesterday with the larger doses," Harry pointed out.

Draco tsked and sighed, "Yes, fine, alright, you might have a point."

"Then I'll brew the last one," Harry said.

Draco blinked in surprise, "You want to?"

"I guess, mostly I want to see how hard it is," Harry said, "You could walk me through it though, just in case."

"I shall keep my barrier spells at the ready," Draco said.

"I don't think you'll need them," Harry said with a cocky grin.

There was a sharp rap on the door, "Comport yourselves, gentlemen," McGonagall said, waiting a beat before she stepped inside. She looked frankly surprised when she saw them.

"Professor?" Harry said.

McGonagall went to her desk, setting out her stack of grading, "I'm not surprised you haven't started working yet, but I have to say I was expecting a bit more...dishevelment."

Harry's eyes widened, "Professor!"

McGonagall sat down with a sigh, "When you've been a teacher as long as I have that sort of thing ceases to shock. Not that that stops some students from trying."

Draco pulled his brewing case out from under the table, taking out the dried ingredients from the drawers, "Uncover the cauldrons?"

Harry shook his head and joined Draco at the brewing table to help prepare the ingredients. The first potion went well, and Draco felt confident enough to talk through the brewing of the second, explaining every step and what he looked for in particular before adding the next ingredient. The third potion he pointed out anything he missed mentioning in the previous brew.

"Alright, I'm ready," Harry said as they left the third potion to cool and turned to the last and final empty cauldron.

Draco saw McGonagall lower the essay she was reading and look over at them, concern creasing her brow. He handed Harry the bottle of base, "Don't rush it."

"Easy for you to say," Harry said uneasily.

"Very easy," Draco agreed, "but I also know you can practically brew wolfsbane in your sleep."

Harry smiled at him faintly, took a deep breath and conjured a fire underneath the cauldron. Draco stuffed his worries in the corner of mind where they wouldn't bother him and focused. In the end Harry only looked to him for confirmation it was alright once, before adding the moonstone. The end potion had burped a little but had turned out indistinguishable from Draco's previous potions.

"So-?" Harry said as he dispelled the flame underneath.

"Perfect. Absolutely perfect."

"Really?" Harry said, letting out a breath of relief, "I was afraid I put in the nettles too soon."

"A bit, but the beginning of the potion is the most forgiving, and you staggered out the asphodel and bone enough to recover it," Draco said.

Harry nodded, slowly smiling, "Yeah, you were right about the way the density and pull changes, it's easier to figure it out that way."

McGonagall stood up and walked over to the desk, looking first in Draco's cauldron with its cooled potion and then in Harry's. "Well done."

"Oh, err, only because Draco-"

"You're mother was quite adept at brewing. James wasn't bad either, though he didn't have the patience to really do more than the minimum to pass," McGonagall said.

Harry's breath caught, and his eyes widened, focusing on every word McGonagall had said like he was trying to burn them into his mind.

McGonagall smiled softly, briefly patting his shoulder. "I know Severus made things difficult for you, but perhaps you might have a bit of a talent for brewing."

Harry shook his head, "No, I mean, probably not. I've seen Draco brew it so many times..."

"If you could practise a potion enough to get an innate feeling for it you could brew anything," Draco said.

Harry and McGonagall looked at him as if they had forgotten he was there.

Draco frowned indignantly, "Harry does best with magic that's tactile and gives immediate feedback. That's why he's so good with Defence, as soon as you learn it, you practise duelling and can get an immediate feeling for the spell."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. Harry rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed.

"Are we going to pretend I didn't obsessively watch this idiot for six years?" Draco said, feeling the start of a flush on his cheeks and resenting it hugely, "Anyway, if Severus had done a better job teaching fundamental ingredient interaction, well everyone would be better off, but Harry would probably be marvellous at potions because it's entirely physical and reactive."

"That's... very interesting," McGonagall said.

"We should probably get these in vials, yeah?" Harry ducked out of the conversation, walking over to the other cauldron.

"I trust I can leave the rest to the two of you," McGonagall said with a small smile, gathering up her grading and leaving without another word.

Draco threw up his hands up in wordless dismay.

"Come on, let's decant these and get out of here," Harry said.

Draco joined him at the table summoning the glass vials and stand.

"Can I do the wax?" Harry asked.

Draco glared at him, "That's the only fun part."

"Is it?"

Draco sighed, "Fine."

Harry smiled.

They filled every vial and Harry, the kind fuck that he was, let Draco dip every other vial in the warm sealing wax. They finished packing the box, cleaned up, and headed for the owlery chatting about their assignments and revisions which was only becoming more intense with every passing day.

Harry stopped at the very top of the stairs, looking down at his feet.

"You can come further in you know," Draco said, heading for the widows, his owls already waiting for him.

"Mm," Harry said absently, "I don't like being reminded of Hedwig."

"Your snowy owl?" Draco said.

"Yeah...She was hit by a curse and..." Harry shook his head, "What happened to your owl? I remember you said something happened to it."

"...Septimus," Draco said reluctantly, "He was eaten by Nagini."

"Oh..."

Draco shrugged.

There was a flutter of wings from up in rafters, and an imposing horned owl flew down to the ledge and dropped a letter in front of Draco with a huff before flying off. The front was marked only with his name in a sweeping cursive.

"Apparently he didn't want to wait until the morning," Draco said absently as he turned the folded parchment over to the wax crest pressed onto the back, and smiled.

"Someone you know?" Harry asked.

"My solicitor," Draco said, breaking the seal and unfolding the letter as he walked back over to Harry, reading it as they walked back down the stairs.

"It's not something bad is it?" Harry asked.

Draco shook his head, "No. I told you I use my solicitor and broker when I want to do things without my name getting in the way," he waved the letter in front of Harry's face, "This is one of those things."

Harry tried to grab the letter and Draco jerked it away.

"Stealing someone's mail is against the law, Mr Potter," Draco teased.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Don't taunt me with it then. What is it?"

Draco hesitated, "It's not set in stone yet but...." he bit his lip, not able to keep a triumphant grin off his face, or keep from blurting out, "Three mind healers have signed on-"

"For what?" Harry asked.

"Don't interrupt," Draco said, shooting Harry a glare before deigning to continue, "To help the students of the school. Two have agreed to work weekends for private counselling, and the other wants to do group counselling in the evenings."

"Wait you- you're hiring mind healers for Hogwarts?"

"Professor McGonagall said she requested funding for it from the ministry and they refused-" Draco put his hand grandly on his chest, "-so I'm doing it."

"You're working with McGonagall to-"

"Working with-" Draco scoffed, "No. She doesn't know. It's the best way to do things. If you offer to help someone, they tend to refuse, being noble or proud or stupid-"

"McGonagall isn't stupid," Harry said defensively.

"I wasn't saying she was. She's too proud if anything." Draco said, "Anyway, you just do it, and give it to them and then they have to take it, or it will be a waste."

"But that... what if they hate it or... you?" Harry said.

Draco snorted, "One, I don't care. Two, they already do, and I don't care."

"I care," Harry said.

"You're too good," Draco said, "Its a wonder you can stand it."

Harry forced a faint smile.

"Being a bastard is far more satisfying."

Harry laughed.

"Besides, no one knows it's me. It's a generous donation from an anonymous concerned, charitable, and very kind citizen," Draco said, his voice syrupy sweet, "And it's another point for me."

"A point for- oh fuck off," Harry said.

Draco laughed, "You're just sour because you're losing."

Harry stopped and when Draco looked around he realised they were in front of the Slytherin dorm entrance. Harry shook out his invisibility cloak and pulled it over himself.

"What in the world are-" Draco didn't manage to finish asking because he was surrounded by the edges of Harry's cloak, backed against the wall and thoroughly snogged.

"See you tomorrow," Harry whispered before stepping away and disappearing, his footsteps fading as he headed up the stairs.

Draco leaned back against the wall until he was sure his knees wouldn't give out, saying, "Rude," under his breath for his own satisfaction.

.

.

a/n: Sorry this update took so long, I needed a bit of a break. Thank you so much for waiting and for reading. I hope you like it♡