"You have done everything I could have hoped, and we will stop these lessons for now, until you have the memory we need from Professor Slughorn. Thank you, Harry."

Flabbergasted and feeling abandoned, Harry steeled his resolve not to let Dumbledore down. It was only when he arrived at a blank wall and walked past it three times did he realise how the Room of Requirement was becoming something of a refuge, and his feet had brought him there without a second thought.

When he opened the door, he found all three of them there.

"Isn't it a bit late?" Harry asked, watching as Ron tried to balance blueberries on a plate heavy with pancakes and whipped cream.

"We were waiting up for you, actually. You're early. How'd it go?" Hermione asked with a frown, though Harry couldn't see it as she was obstructed by a pile of books, some which looked like they could slip off the table at any moment.

"Badly," Harry huffed, throwing himself on a beanbag near Draco, who was lounging with an open book in his hand. "Dumbledore says he's through with our lessons until I can do the thing that he wants me to do." Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Draco making a quizzical look before going back to his reading.

"What could you possibly do that the professor cannot?" Draco drawled.

"That's your problem, Malfoy. You always expect adults to handle everything–"

"Not everyone's a hero like you are."

Harry's eyes clouded over as he thought about Dumbledore's latest instruction. There was a nagging feeling that it was all too familiar to how he had acted in the previous year. If Dumbledore never withdrew from him, Sirius needn't have died. It was a poisonous thought and he squashed it as best he could, but he couldn't help redirecting that hate towards Draco.

"I have told you everything you need to know, Malfoy."

Hearing the use of his family name signalled to the blonde figure what he had been expecting, a dismissal. He left the room feeling strangely empty. Stung, he gave himself a moment before starting the long trek to the dungeons.

Back in the room, Harry filled Ron and Hermione in on what he and Dumbledore had discovered about Voldemort's childhood, specifically how he was conceived under the influence of a love potion.

"That's horrible!" Hermione exclaimed with a hand over her mouth.

"Yeah, imagine waking up from a spell and realising you were married to an ugly, creepy bat!" Ron laughed and it was all Hermione could do not to call him out on his superficial tendencies.

"Or, worse, finding you're married to someone as foul as Malfoy," he added as sort of an afterthought.

Hermione didn't miss the way that Harry's eyes flickered to her accusingly but neither said anything, even though Hermione desperately wanted to confront him and explain that there was nothing going on between Draco and her. She also knew that defending herself would only make her seem guiltier. They'd seen how she was always together with Draco in the room, and it was up to them to draw their own conclusions, whether they were real or not.

Unease has filled Draco ever since the disappearance of Professor Selgentar and even after learning what Harry had to say about his lessons with Dumbledore, he grew more and more restless until he could take it no longer. Furthermore, since he was so unceremoniously ejected from their meeting, he was filled with a frenetic energy to do something.

"I need to see the headmaster," He said to the gargoyle guarding the stairs to Dumbledore's office for the umpteenth time but it remained unmoved to his plight.

"You and me both." The gargoyle muttered after Draco screamed profanities at the statue. At last, slumped against the stairs, the doors opened and a long shadow cast itself alongside Draco's. He jumped up upon seeing it and said, "Dumbledore, sir, I need to speak with you."

"That is apparent, Draco, seeing as how clearly I could hear you from my office," Dumbledore said, noting that the tips of the boy's ears burned red. "Please, come up and have some tea to soothe your throat."

Draco trudged up the stairs in a way that only a Malfoy could, seeming to make it look like a strut despite the dejected expression he wore on his face.

Entering the headmaster's office was unlike entering any other, where Selgentar's walls were bare and Snape's shelves were organised, the headmaster's seemed to be filled with all sorts of odd trinkets. Bells whistling and teapots chiming, it was the oddest sight indeed. Draco stood in the middle of the room, unsure where to go, despite the assortment of chairs available.

Dumbledore sank into an oversized armchair and made himself comfortable, waving a chair forward to bump against the back of Draco's knees. "Sit, sit, have some tea." A small table materialised beside Draco as he sat down but he ignored the steaming pot of what smelled like an infusion of jasmine and chamomile with a hint of nectar.

"Now, what would you like to talk to me about?"

The headmaster looked kindly and patiently at the boy as he mustered his courage to say, "Professor Selgentar is working for the Dark Lord, sir," he started, "And she thinks I've been helping her but we – Hermione, Harry and... Ron – we've been misleading her with false information. The reason she left was because of something I told her... Harry told me to ask her about Slughorn, and she told me I gave her a gift."

Dumbledore looked at him over his half-moon spectacles and waited.

"I'm afraid I've made things worse, sir."

At that, Dumbledore nodded and said, "Have you spoken with Harry since?"

Ears burning at the notion that he should have consulted with The Boy Who Lived, Draco said in a smaller voice, "No, he told me that he couldn't tell me more and... here I am..." His voice got smaller and smaller as he continued on, "But he was the one who suggested it and I don't know if he knew what he was doing because–"

"Because you fear you've given up some real information which might be useful to Voldemort, and you do not want that, do you?"

"Well, I–" Draco paused for a moment, considering what to say before repeating Hermione's sentiments, "I never asked which family to be born into." There was a rueful glaze on his face, struggling against guilt and wondering if he were betraying his family in some small way.

"I understand that it was a noble thing for you to come to me, Draco. But rest assured, I know exactly who she is. I have known since she poisoned you." He waved his hand at the sight of Draco opening his mouth to speak, "I kept her here to keep a close eye on her. Now that she's gone, I will be able to deal with her appropriately. I do, however, appreciate the gesture and I am glad that you have found your way into the company of some – and I might be impartial for saying this – good influences." Dumbledore gave him a glittering smile he'd never seen before. "Thank you for coming to me and for your trust."

Draco opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, thinking and digesting what the headmaster had just shared with him. "Er, thanks?" Dumbledore acknowledged his words with a nod of his head and began sipping from his teacup. Taking it as the cue for him to leave, Draco backed out of the office slowly, feeling as though there was more to be said, but not knowing exactly what. Was this how Harry felt when he dealt with Dumbledore? There was a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, as though he had dug out all of his worries and troubles but having no comfort to fill its place.

However, during class, he filled himself with assurances that Dumbledore would be able to fix whatever was needed and he's free to cast Selgentar and what she represented out of her mind. Indeed, when class ended, he retained nothing from the lesson. When he saw Hermione next, she noted how much more cheerful he seemed to be. Not wanting to pry, she went along with his good mood, unwilling to spoil it with questions. She was happy to have him like this, knowing somewhere deep down inside that it wouldn't last but wishing that it would. And so she was happy to be blind, as long as it prolonged this moment of peace and happiness.

He was almost gleeful when Harry joined them along with Ron, "No more two-faced cow!" He called out to Harry, who looked considerably glum.

"Instead, I have to find a way to get in with the potions professor," Harry said.

"Not going very well, is it?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head in return, "He's very careful not to be alone with me."

"Didn't you say he hold little parties or get-togethers with his little chosen crew? Surely you'll be on his list."

"He's dropped the tradition, apparently, probably because of me."

"Get Hermione to dazzle him and he'll have to reinstate those parties."

"What's got you in such a chipper state?" Ron grumbled through piles of homework.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him and said, "Unlike some people, I actually care what's happening. I don't just go along for the ride."

Ron didn't even rise to the bait, merely nodding and looking to Hermione for help with his homework. Shocked at having his sarcasm being ignored, he stopped fiddling with his quill and looked at the three of them. They got used to him so quickly and easily, could it be that they've also gotten used to his smart remarks?

"I said," He intoned slightly louder, "I am not riding on anyone's coattails."

"I heard you the first time–" Ron intoned before turning to Hermione, "–what did you get for question 21A?"

"For goodness sakes, Ron, the answer is right there!" Hermione said, jabbing the open book in front of Ron.

It was incredible, he could say what he wanted and it didn't faze them one bit. Unlike Crabbe and Goyle, who would probably be tripping over themselves to bolster his boast or stare stupidly at him, as Goyle had when they had lunch together. The two Slytherins chattered over one another about how stupid someone looked or what happened during Quidditch, taking care to say what a step down it was to have Harper on as seeker, as if it mattered to Draco.

No, he had moved onto bigger things. He looked around him appreciatively. Ron might never have anything nice to say to him, but his jibes were a vast improvement over the dull comments that Crabbe or Goyle could ever cook up. Harry still held Draco at an arm's length, but was more civil to him than he could ever imagine. And Hermione. None of this could have happened without this brilliant, empathetic, and determined witch. She was the glue that held them together, and the light that shone on the good in Draco.

Satisfied with himself, he sunk back into his work, thinking that this was what he wanted all along. Friends who are equals.

Suddenly, an idea came to him, "Since he won't throw any parties, why don't you invite him to ours?"

This caught the attention of all three, "What party?" Harry asked.

Draco gestured meaningfully at their table, "With Hermione's brains, my looks and your ability to survive Unforgivable Curses, he wouldn't be able to turn it down! Plus, we have a Weasley, he should be thrilled to see one up close and personal."

"You mean your ferrety good looks?" Laughed Hermione but nothing could dampen Draco's spirits.

"We could try," Harry said. And so it was set, the four of them agreed that it couldn't hurt to try, at least.