Harry had finally found a way to tame his wild hair. His grandfather had left notes on how to tame it. It was a simple potion that even Seamus could make without exploding it. It took twenty minutes to brew, and there was enough for three weeks. It kept it neat through nearly everything, except quidditch.

The eighth year's weren't allowed to join their house quidditch teams unfortunately. So instead the people who wanted to play had make up teams. There'd been enough people to make three teams, and they agreed to make it for fun. That didn't mean they wouldn't get competitive though.

As usual, they'd made Harry seeker. Then the other team had made Draco seeker. So here they were, about to shake hands.

Harry had been more weary of Draco then usual. He'd changed. Now Draco had lost his predictability, and was surprising Harry. Besides Draco thanking him, and complimenting Harry's physique, Harry had found him standing up for a Hufflepuff first year. If that wasn't surprising enough on its own, he apologized to Hermione for calling her a mudblood, and to Ron for following his father's bias against the Weasleys. Harry could still remember the shock on Ron's face when Draco asked to "turn over a new leaf, and try to get along." There was a whole load of rumours of kind things he'd done.

Perhaps Draco really had a concussion...

Draco's hand took his. Instead of letting go promptly like he'd expected, Draco pulled Harry closer with their intertwined hands. Whispering in Harry's ear, Draco told him, "I love the new hairstyle Potter. Makes me want to run my fingers through it."

Looking up in confusion, Harry found only a sincere smile on Draco's face.

Harry nearly lost that game to Draco. Nearly. Perhaps that had been his strategy.

Those two sentences left Harry confused about what that means, and what to do with his hair for the next week.