Draco got used to Harry just appearing beside him during the day; sitting beside Draco in class, saying hello, and they'd even had a few conversations. Harry's tone was always polite and slightly distant, which Draco mirrored in turn. He was starting to feel like they were professional acquaintances. It seemed to be working.

Draco now received very few glares and far more curious looks. Occasionally, someone might actually talk to him like he was a person. It shouldn't have felt as shocking as it was and yet-

When he came back to school to finish his NEWTs, he had expected the worst. Instead, he was simply treated like he didn't exist. It had chaffed a bit, he never liked being ignored, but it was better than hostility and violence. But now. Now people saw him again, and it was a bit like having been underwater too long, coming up gasping, cold, bewildered and uncertain if he was really alright.

He was starting to think he might be.

"This table," Pansy said, stopping at the largest unoccupied table in the library.

It was practically in the centre of the room. Draco sighed, "Can we just go to one of the small study tables in the back? The nice ones by the windows that look out over the forest-"

"No," Pansy said, dropping herself into a chair and pulling out her books, "I need your help on the transfiguration paper."

Draco slowly pulled out the chair next to Pansy and sat with as much resignation as possible, "Since when do you care about transfiguration? I thought the only NEWT you cared about was charms and you were going to wing the rest of them."

"Transfiguration could be useful for running the shop, and Jenna n' Melanie are bril at it," Pansy said opening her textbook, "I need to be able to do hair and makeup if they're sick or on break or whatever. They're learning how to do nails, so it's only fair."

"How much research have you done?" Draco asked, taking out his own books.

Pansy gave him a, what do you think? look.

Draco sighed, "One of the first papers we were assigned this year was on casting permanent texture alteration, now we're working on transfiguring finer, more delicate and realistic textures, fur, feathers, scales, velvet, delicate weaves. So the same books we referenced then would be a good start."

"What books did you use then? I just reworded your paper." Pansy said, with no shame whatsoever.

"Did you fail? McGonagall must have noticed," Draco said.

"No. I moved some bits around, dumbed it down a bit, and she knows we study together. I didn't get good marks, but I never do. If no one expects much out of you they don't bother looking too closely," Pansy said, shrugging one shoulder.

Draco opened his mouth and hesitated.

"I know," Pansy said, "It's a bad habit, but in my defence, I thought I'd be married to you or some other rich fuck until I was fourteen and didn't really think there was much point in trying too hard. You certainly didn't help things, practically holding Greg and Vince's hands to get them through our classes, it was easier to use your notes than do the work myself."

"Don't blame me for your being lazy," Draco said.

"I can and I will," Pansy said, "and don't call me stupid."

"I said lazy, not stupid. You're certainly not stupid. And as far as being a manipulative bitch, you're the cleverest person I know," Draco said.

Pansy thought about it and nodded to herself, "I shall take that as a compliment."

"I meant it as one," Draco said.

The corners of Pansy's eyes crinkled with amusement even as she frowned at him. "Starting now I'm going to put in some effort, with transfiguration at least."

"Ah, well, don't strain yourself," Draco said.

Pansy stood up, "Just tell me which books to get."

"It would be faster if I did it," Draco said.

"I'm trying to be nice, you fuck," Pansy said.

Draco begrudgingly gave Pansy a list of titles to look for. They would be lucky to find even one or two of the books with other students also working on the paper.

"Can I sit here?"

Draco looked up, finding Harry standing on the other side of the table.

"Is it alright if I sit here?" Harry asked again, pointing to the chair across from Draco.

Draco nodded, "What can I help you with?"

Harry dropped into the seat, dragging his bag onto the table, "We're meant to start brewing that tricky potion tomorrow, and I don't really understand all the steps."

Draco waited as Harry took out his book and flipped it open.

"It says... add the belladonna and stir," Harry glared at the page, "fifteen to thirty times -what kind of bullshit number is that- until the reaction is complete-? and immediately add clear alcohol. This should clarify the potion-" he shook his head. "So what's the reaction we're supposed to be looking for? It doesn't describe how the potion's supposed to look between belladonna but before the alcohol. I mean that's just asking for someone to add it before this stupid reaction is finished, isn't it?"

Draco nodded, "In this case, it means stir until the belladonna is entirely dissolved, I think the instructions say to mince the belladonna, so it needs to be very fine for it to be fully incorporated within thirty rotations."

Harry reached blindly into his bag and pulled out the gel pen Draco had kindly let him keep, writing a few sparkly pink notes in the margin of his book.

"Is that all?"

Harry shook his head, "Err, not really, I want to brew this right so-"

Draco raised an eyebrow, "You're going to do the brewing this time then?"

"Yeah. I need to know how to do it, and it's not like you need the practice," Harry said.

"I might," Draco said.

Harry narrowed his eyes.

Draco smiled his sweetest fake smile.

"Do not," Harry muttered, "arse."

Weasley grabbed a chair on the corner of the table, turning it around and sitting on it backwards, "I'm not here."

"You're going to fail charms if that's your idea of a disillusionment spell," Draco said.

Weasley rolled his eyes, "Yeah, well, this potion's gonna being on the NEWTs and Harry's brewing has been almost as good as it was in sixth year with you working together."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Draco said, winking at Weasley just to see him pull a horrified face.

Granger primly sat beside Weasley. She gave Draco a stiff nod, looking a little put out by even the suggestion she might need someone else's help studying.

"So," Harry said loudly to pull Draco's attention back, "When it says the alcohol clarifies the potions that means it goes clear?"

"Not entirely," Draco said with an encouraging nod.

"Because of the belladonna?" Harry hazarded, "that would make it sort of a blue or purple colour then?"

Draco grimaced just the tiniest bit.

"Oh fuck right! We're using the leaves not the berries so it would be green, maybe a bit grey still from the elm ash," Harry said quickly adding another note to his book and ignoring Madam Pince's reprimand at his swearing.

"I couldn't find any of the titles you told me," Pansy said as she walked back over, looking over the table, "I see you've collected a gaggle of Gryffindorks. Are you sure those were the right books?"

"Hey!" Granger protested.

Draco waved at Granger, "It's a term of endearment. You might as well sit Pansy-"

"That was not endearing," Granger said.

Draco fought down a sigh. He kept forgetting that most Gryffindor conversations had all the subtly of a thrown brick.

"Pansy only bothers to insult people she likes-? I think," Harry said.

Pansy smirked as she sat back in her chair.

"Wait," Weasley said, "What does she do if she doesn't like you then? Call you darling?"

"Pretty sure she just jinxes the hell out of you. Or curses maybe," Harry said.

Pansy was fighting a smile, "You're starting to grow on me, Potter."

Harry grinned, "Like mould."

Pansy wrinkled her nose with a laugh, "Eww!"

Weasley leaned closer to Granger, 'whispering', "Harry getting on with Parkinson weirds me out even more than him with Malfoy."

Granger nodded.

Draco caught Harry's eye, and they both slightly shook their head.

Weasley groaned, "Don't do the- the thing."

"What 'thing'?" Harry asked.

Weasley's face scrunched up like an old tangerine, "That thing where you and Malfoy talk just by looking at each other. It's not subtle, you know."

"Like your idea of whispering?" Draco said under his breath.

Harry laughed and tried to mask it into a cough, kicking Draco under the table.

Draco felt immensely pleased to have got a laugh out of Harry but glared at him for the look of the thing.

"Hullo," Luna said, her arms full of books as she stopped in front of their table, "Can I sit here?"

Draco nodded.

"Plenty of room," Weasley said, "You need potion help too?"

"Oh, no," Luna shook her head, a few wavy blond hairs floating up around her face, "I dropped potions after fifth year. It's not really anything at all that I'm interested in and if I needed a particular potion I could always ask one of my friends for help," she said as she sat in the chair beside Pansy.

"Yes?" Pansy said warily.

Luna smiled, "I've been having trouble with a spell I've been tinkering with, and I saw you here and remembered that you're in advanced charm theory so I wondered if you might help me with it."

Pansy pursed her lips in thought.

"Wait, Parkinson is in one of the advanced classes?!" Weasley turned to Granger, "And you're not?"

Granger glared at Weasley, "Because I'm not specialising. It's better to have perfect NEWTs in a variety of subjects for the Ministry. I don't want to be pigeon-holed into one department."

"Oh," Weasley said, "err, sorry."

"Excuse me," Pansy said sharply, "I believe I'm owed an apology as well."

Weasley looked at from an angry Pansy, Draco narrowing his eyes, Hermione nodding, finally to Harry giving him a pointed look.

Weasley turned faintly red, "Right... sorry, Parkinson, didn't mean to imply anything."

"Fine. And my name is Pansy. Parkinson is my mother's name. If you call me it again, I'll bash your head in with a bludger bat." Pansy said blandly.

Weasley's eyes widened.

"See, if she were really upset, she would've just done it, not warned you," Harry said.

"Yeah, but what'd her mum do?" Weasley said in a horrified whisper.

"Disowned me and threw me out with only the clothes on my back," Pansy said, her tone still flat.

Draco would've hugged her if they were somewhere more private. It was the first time Pansy had told anyone other than him what had happened.

Luna hugged her instead, leaning over from her chair to loop her arms around Pansy's shoulders.

Pansy patted Luna's hand, answering the unspoken question around the table, "I refused an arranged marriage," her voice cracked faintly. She cleared her throat, flipping her hair back, "My mother was always a bitch."

"Are you... doing okay?" Granger asked carefully.

"Of course. Draco let me stay with him, and I did eventually get my things for school. It would've reflected badly on them if I showed up with nothing or worse," Pansy laughed humourlessly, "Draco replaced everything for me."

There was an awkward lull, filled in by Weasley of all people who said, "Pansy it is then."

Pansy spared Weasley a brief, relieved smile.

Luna gave her one more squeeze before sitting back.

"Show me this spell of yours," Pansy said, turning in her seat.

Luna clapped her hands, "You'll help me? Thank you."

"There's a favour I wanted to ask in turn," Pansy said, "You know that makeover photo you took over the holiday?"

Luna nodded.

"I was wondering if I could use it as an example of what we can do when we- we're opening a beauty salon- so if we could-," Pansy said.

"Of course," Luna said without hesitation, "I'm happy to help."

Pansy smiled, "Thanks."

Harry knocked Draco's shoe with his own under the table, "I had a few more questions about this potion."

Draco turned back to him, "Right so-"

Harry looked back at his book, working through the vague instructions line by line. Under the table he kept his foot close to Draco's, pressed side to side.

.

.

Draco was going to be late for history of magic, but he couldn't convince himself to walk any faster. Binns wouldn't notice him coming in no matter the time, and Pansy had skipped entirely, even the prospect of sitting next to Harry couldn't motivate him for such a relentlessly dull class. He was just glad it was nearly the weekend.

There was a little pop in the air beside Draco's elbow, quickly followed by a hand, tugging at his sleeve. Draco looked down into the excited face of Lulu.

Lulu shuffled nervously, still clinging onto his elbow, "Will Mister Draco come with Lulu? It is very, very, most important."

Draco glanced down the hall to the classroom he had been headed to and shrugged, "Very well."

Lulu bounced, making an excited squeak and grabbed hold of his arm tighter as she apparated them to-

Draco blinked.

The great hall, but all the tables had been moved against the walls and in their place were house elves, hundreds of house elves.

There was a wave of bows and curtseys throughout the elves assembled as he appeared except from the thirty or so lining the front, their fancier smocks, tunics and togas marking them as Huddles. They watched him with suspicion. Lulu gave his sleeve on more tug before running back to join the other house elves.

Draco bowed his head, trying to be as respectful as possible, "Huddles." even as his heart raced. Something massive was happening, something unprecedented. He didn't know if he was excited or terrified.

Huddle Rowena stepped forward, her voice raised to carry through the room, "Thank you for coming. Huddle Rowena has spoken much of Mister Draco, but most have never seen him."

The sound of his name sent a ripple through the room, ears lifting from nervousness or possibly excitement.

"Does this mean what I think it means?" Draco asked.

Rowena nodded, "House elves all across the isles be joined to make things better for us."

There was a gasp behind him, and Draco turned to see McGonagall frozen in the doorway, staring at the room.

"Headmistress McGonagall," Draco said, which seemed to draw her from her shock.

There was another wave of bows and curtseys, even the huddles deigned to bow their heads to her as she slowly walked over to join Draco in front of the head table, an elf pulling the doors shut behind her.

Draco gestured to Rowena, "May I introduce Huddle Rowena, the leader of the Hogwarts house elves."

"...My goodness," McGonagall said, "Are these all the house elves from the- what did you call it?"

"The croft," Draco supplied.

McGonagall's eyebrows rose, but before she could reply, Rowena answered her question.

"Some from the croft," Rowena said, "Some from everywhere. All the Huddles of the isles." She gestured to the front row of Huddles.

An old elf with bristly white hair coming out of his ears and a tunic made of old velvet brocade put his hand on his chest, "Spatzle, Huddle of the Ministry croft."

"Pepperup, Huddle of the St. Mungo croft," said the next elf, plump, with round rosy cheeks and a faded lime green smock.

They introduced themselves down the line, from largest to smallest croft as far as Draco could tell. Kipper was one of the last to give his name, as Huddle of the Malfoy estate's croft. He gave Draco a nod which Draco returned without hesitation.

"What is this about?" McGonagall asked, her hands clasped firmly together in front of herself.

Rowena glanced at the other huddles and was given nods for her to speak for them, "Elves have a most humble request of the Headmistress, they would like to hide- to stay in Hogwarts, to be safe here."

McGonagall pursed her lips, "All our house elves are safe here, are they not?"

Rowena's ears twitched with annoyance, and she turned to Draco, "Mister Draco, will you tell what elves are meaning?"

Draco nodded, understanding dawning, this is why Rowena wanted him here, to explain things and convince McGonagall to help them. He could this.

Draco stood a little straighter, pulling his shoulders back, "Professor, all the house elves in the british isles are joining together in a guild, they intend to renegotiate the contract binding them, the one I showed you, if you remember."

"I do," McGonagall said, "It was a very weak and unfair thing."

Draco bit down on his smile, she was sympathetic, it was a good start. He went on, "Some houses will agree to renegotiate, some of the more liberal-minded houses may even accept the new contract without contest. Many will not."

McGonagall nodded faintly.

"But all elves stand together so all elves must be treated the same," Draco said.

There was a cheer from many of the elves, quickly quieted by a glared from Huddle Spatzle.

"In order to force all parties to come to the negotiating table, they will have to go on strike and refuse to work," Draco said, "and in retaliation some elves will be released from the contract and forced to leave their homes, some elves may even be threatened with violence which would compel the entire croft to leave."

"Well, if it's not safe for them, then they should leave," McGonagall said.

Draco nodded, "Precisely. But elves without access to ambient magic become weak. And the weakest die first, the elderly, the less able-bodied, the children," he paused meaningfully, "like they did during the war."

McGonagall frowned, "House elves died here? In Hogwarts-?"

Draco slowly nodded his head, getting into the drama of the moment, his voice low and sympathetic, "Two miscarriages and a young boy,"

McGonagall winced, closing her eyes.

Draco paused just long enough to allow the idea to sink in before continuing, "The house elves are very vulnerable to retribution and yet, if they had somewhere safe, somewhere with a great deal of magic available to them.... a place such as Hogwarts," He looked at McGonagall meaningfully, "then they could strike without fear."

"I see," McGonagall said. She tapped her foot and crossed her arms, a frown growing on her face.

Draco felt an inkling of dread and smothered it, already trying to think of how else to persuade her.

"Here is where my problem lies," McGonagall said, "I do wish to help, in any way I can, especially seeing as this issue was far bigger than I had ever imagined. However I am-" She paced across the floor, paused at the end of the teacher's table, "I find myself at an impasse. The wizengamot will likely be opposed to the house elves strike. The very same wizengamot may very well remove me from my position as Headmistress if I show open support for them."

Open Draco nearly gasped, "Yes- right, that's... an unfortunate situation. If you.... were to support them, just theoretically-"

McGonagall turned on her heel to face him, her expression attentive.

"-you might allow them to use some of the empty rooms, I mean the dungeons are nearly abandoned even during the school year, and hopefully the strike would over before school started up again in the fall," Draco said.

"If they were to use abandoned rooms or hallways, it would be imperative they were not seen and a word of their location never spoken of," McGonagall said, "I would have to deny all knowledge of them because I, of course, would not know."

"Of course," Draco said with a nod.

McGonagall walked back over to him, holding out her hand, "Well, then I'm glad we could come to an understanding, Mr Malfoy."

Draco took her hand and shook it, "An understandable outcome for all sides, Headmistress."

They shared a matching pair of pleased little smiles.

The house elves filling the room did not look as pleased, their ears drooping, many other them looking at the floor. A few cried openly in great heaving sobs.

The huddles were not upset. They were gathered around Kipper who was speaking to them all in a quiet, serious voice, his expressions obscured by his scruffy eyebrows.

McGonagall looked ready to interrupt when the group broke up, the three lead huddles and Kipper walking over to Draco and McGonagall.

"We would speak to you still, if you would wait," Rowena said.

The remaining Huddles gathered the assembled house elves, speaking with them in small groups that apparated away as the Huddles finished talking to them until only the Huddles remained, walking back to the front.

"Huddle Kipper says Mister Draco's words were more tricksy than they appeared," Huddle Pepperup said, "More than we could follow."

The elves nodded in agreement.

"The young master has always been clever with words," Kipper said, sounding proud, "Always careful, always put where they are needed."

Draco felt strangely pleased with that, even though surely Kipper had only seen him being clever with words when he was trying to wheedle something out of his parents. Although he had sometimes been impressed with his own ingenuity when it came to weaving his words into getting something he wanted, like new booms for his entire team, or hiring the best tutors over the summer to try and out-smart Granger.

"I can explain everything later, in the croft perhaps, away from prying ears," Draco said.

Huddle Spatzle clasped his hands behind his back, "Mister Draco, elves are not as clever with words, not as brave."

"There will be threatening, and maybe hurting. Elves do not want to be talked over, ignored," Huddle Pepperup said.

"We need a person not afraid," Huddle Rowena said, "You, we are hoping."

"I'll help," Draco said, "I haven't changed my mind on that."

All the huddles looked at one another, nodding in silent agreement.

Rowena took a deep breath, picking out her words carefully, "House Elves Guild wants to hire Mister Draco. To help us, to speak to wizards for us."

Draco blinked, his mind gone blank. Had it been some sort of test all along? Had he somehow passed it? His heart was starting to beat so fast it ached.

Huddle Spatzle puffed his chest out, "Elves plan to ask for paying in new contract. There is no coins now, but we will pay Mister Draco."

"You hardly need to hire, Draco," McGonagall said, "I'm certain he would help you regardless."

"No," Spatzle said firmly, going a little red in the face, "Elves being paying."

"But surely-"

Draco held up his hand, "It's important."

McGonagall narrowed her eyes, "I fail to see how. They must have better things to do with the money they'll earn."

"Because-" Draco felt like he could use a bucket of cold water or a brisk slap, he settled for a deep breath that came out rather shaky. "Because they don't want to depend on me, they want to depend on themselves. They want control of their own fates, not having humans mucking around and telling them what to do and say."

McGonagall stared at him, back ramrod straight for a moment before nodding stiffly, "I understand. But, more importantly... do you want to do this, Draco?"

Draco didn't know, but before he could even think to answer McGonagall went on.

"This isn't a little anonymous project. You will likely be in conflict with a great number of the wizengamot and the houses that have elves."

"They'll be furious," Draco said.

"They will hate you," McGonagall said, "and they will most certainly try to ruin you."

"Do you suppose they'd label me a blood-traitor?" Draco asked distantly.

"Some will, without out a doubt."

A grin turned into a smile so wide it made Draco's cheeks ache, "That's brilliant."

McGonagall's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"The Weasley's are considered blood-traitors, and they're doing very well for themselves. Its the sort of label one looks for in these modern times," Draco said cheerfully, "And those old bastards in the wizengamot can suck my-"

"Mr Malfoy," McGonagall rebuked him before he could finish, "Please take this seriously. This is a massive commitment."

"I am," Draco said petulantly, "I want to do it. I want to help and make this work. It's the perfect job, I get to make things better, actually better, and I get to infuriate people."

McGonagall sighed, "I fail to see how that is a desirable part of the job."

Draco rolled his eyes, "It's not like they can do anything about it, can they? If they tried, I'd have them arrested."

"I worry about you sometimes, young man," McGonagall said.

Draco ignored her and turned back to assembled huddles looking uncertain and slightly confused.

"I would be honoured to work for you," Draco said, holding out his hand.

Rowena smiled and shook his hand.

"And elves will protect you," Kipper said, "No one will hurt the young master."

"Even better," Draco said with a smile. "Have you put together your demands for the new contract?"

Rowena nodded and snapped her fingers. A piece of parchment appeared in front of Draco. He plucked it from the air and scanned down the list, "Can I keep this?"

Rowena nodded.

The list was relatively simple. It needed a lot more detail, more contingencies, more repercussions and rules. They also needed to ask for far more than what they actually wanted, then they would have more room to bargain. They might even end up with more than they needed.

"We should meet again in a week to go over this," Draco suggested, "Or sooner, you can notify me once you find a good time when all the huddles can meet."

"That is what elves want," Huddle Spatzle said, "What is there to meet about?"

"A lot more," Draco said, "This is going to be very complicated and quite messy. I still have my schooling, so meeting once a week will have to do for now, but once I graduate, we will have far far more work ahead of us."

Some of the huddles exchanged nervous glances.

"Don't worry," Draco said, "That is why you're hiring me after all. There's nothing I can't figure out with enough time."

Kipper nodded happily in agreement, looking pleased as punch, an expression Draco had never seen on his dour old face before.

"I hate to interrupt, but it's getting late, and the great hall will soon be needed for its intended purpose," McGonagall said.

Draco spoke with Rowena as the tables were put back in their neat, orderly rows. The rest of the huddles left, one by one after shaking Draco's hand. Plates and cutlery began appearing on the tables as the last elf apparated away and only Draco and McGonagall remained.

"It seems of late I am constantly being reminded of my own prejudices, even ones I hadn't even known I had, and still must learn to move past them," McGonagall said to the room or perhaps just herself.

Draco nodded in silent agreement. It was something he found himself struggling with all the time. Luckily it got easier with time.

Draco glanced at the door, desperately want to go find Harry and tell him everything that had happened, "Professor-"

"You know," McGonagall said absently, apparently not hearing him, "I had rather been hoping after you received your NEWTs, you would consider apprenticing under Slughorn and take over as our Potion's professor in a year or two's time."

Draco hesitated and then answered frankly, "No offence meant, but I would be a horrible teacher."

"You're not only a natural talent with brewing, but you're very dedicated as well," McGonagall said, turning to regard him thoughtfully, "And I have seen you with Harry, you've been very patient and understanding in teaching him."

"Well, I like him quite a bit." Draco shrugged, "I've never been very good at being nice to people I don't like, and I'm especially not very fond of snot-nose first years."

"You were eleven once," McGonagall said.

"Yes," Draco said, feeling himself start to babble with pent up excitement and energy and not caring to stop himself, "and if I met myself today, I'd shove the little bastard into the black lake."

"Really, Draco-"

"And most of the students are going through puberty-" Draco went on, "do remember what it was like? Never mind you're far too old-"

McGonagall's eyebrows shot up

"-It's dreadful. I can't imagine why would anyone want to spend their life around hormonal teenagers. I really don't know how you've tolerated it."

"I happen to enjoy teaching," McGonagall said stiffly.

Draco considered her answer for a moment and shrugged, "Well, I suppose someone has to."

McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose, "Congratulations, you've dissuaded me of any interest in hiring you. In a five- ten years if you've... mellowed and find yourself considering such work, we could, possibly, talk again."

"Possibly," Draco said, humouring her. "If you'll excuse me, there's someone I want to talk to right away."

McGonagall smiled faintly, "I believe classes are just letting out so you might want to hurry."

Draco nodded, already walking to the doors as quickly as he could without breaking into a sprint.

McGonagall's voice followed him faintly out into the hallway, "I have no doubt you will do an excellent job of making the wizengamot very angry indeed."