New HP slash fic! note--sequel

New fic. Sequel to Perspective, different POV.


Disclaimer 1: Harry Potter & sidekicks are owned by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Brothers, Inc. No copyright infringement is intended.

Disclaimer 2: I don't care. I had to.


Where I am
sequel to Perspective


After a few tumultuous weeks, Draco Malfoy settled down into a calmly miserable routine. He was now in Ravenclaw. Dumbledore had said that if he kept his head down and worked hard, some Ravenclaws would respect that, and he was right. Draco thought there were at least three. Or at least three of them now kept the others from bothering him too much. Maybe it was more pity than respect.

He found Ravenclaws to be a surprisingly decent lot. They would glare at him, gossip about him, try to upstage him in class, and draw him into vicious verbal warfare. But he could hold his own both in class and out, so they eventually left him alone. He was simply glad they were above petty tricks like changing his homework or stealing his things. If they were Slytherin, he would find his socks constantly on fire.

He had one Ravenclaw who was sort of a friend. Loony Luna. He didn't see her often and sometimes she was more trouble than help, but she broke up a lot of fights in that first week. Someone had called Draco soulless and she'd gone right up to him, started at him, and declared, "I believe he has a soul." Everyone laughed and this became a running insult for two weeks, as Luna believed anything that had no evidence whatsoever. The laughter dispelled some of their furious hatred. And now whenever she heard someone really laying into him, she would march up and passionately defend him in a way that would usually derail the whole conversation.

Sometimes she would go sit by him at lunch, or do her homework near him in the common room. He didn't see her often and he found her impossible to talk to, but he was always glad when she did that. It wasn't exactly companionship, but she created a shield between himself and the others. He relaxed a little when she was there. There were days when he didn't see Harry, and Gryffindors pushed him around, and he simply ran from Slytherins, and the Ravenclaws left the room when he entered. The days when he despaired. Somehow Luna could make those days bearable. He had no idea what to make of her, but he wished she were around more.

*

Some nights he snuck out to see Harry. He would leave the Ravenclaw dorms and stand in the hallway, hoping Harry found him before someone else. Harry had grown adept at moving quietly so Draco knew nothing until Harry was suddenly there, enveloping him in his arms, his warmth, and his invisibility cloak. Draco would just stand there, exposed and shivering, until Harry swallowed him whole. He was grateful every time.

They went to the shed. It was the only place they had and in a way it was theirs. Sometimes they slept there, though it was always uncomfortable. Sometimes they only sat and talked, though Draco could only sit and listen to Harry's problems and his own were repetitive and unsolvable. He was lonely. Most of the school hated him. No one did anything extreme to him so there was nothing to say, only a crushing emptiness.

Sometimes they held each other as they talked. Always they at least sat close, touching. Some days Harry kissed him sweetly and stroked his face and hair until Draco thought he would shatter from trembling. Some days he was passionate and demanding. Draco accepted anything. Each time he stood in the hallway, uncertain that Harry would even come, but he came every time. That was enough. Once Harry wrapped him in that cloak, he felt peaceful. He didn't care what happened after that, though he wanted anything, everything.

Draco was immensely grateful for something else, as well. While Harry was frequently distant and doubtful in private, he never wavered in public. He acted as if they were a couple despite the craziness that ensued. It was probably the only reason the other students accepted his presence at all. He wasn't extremely attentive or affectionate, but he was consistent and confident.

Draco kept his head down, kept going, and told himself how everything could be so much worse.

*

One day, early on, he had gone to Slytherin by accident. He hadn't been thinking. The password hadn't yet changed and he found himself in the common room. Everyone just stared. He found himself staring mutely back. He looked at the familiar walls and wondered what had happened. How had he gotten so far from everything that had meant home?

Someone ran to fetch Crabbe and Goyle, and he looked at them the same way. What had happened? He could barely grasp it. If they had been angry and hateful, he might have been able to handle it. But they were confused, hurt, betrayed. He couldn't answer any of their questions. He couldn't say anything at all. When they started to beat him, he let them. He deserved this. In a strange way, it felt good. It felt real. It made sense. Now he knew what he was doing in this room that was both familiar and alien. He was paying.

Snape came in and broke it up. He silently escorted Draco to the infirmary. But when he'd walked into the room, for one horrible second he had only watched. It was only when he'd met Draco's eyes that he'd blinked and stormed over. He'd given Crabbe and Goyle detentions and even deducted 15 points from his own house.

Harry had said that Snape wasn't really a Death Eater. He was apparently spying. Draco wasn't so sure and he could tell by his voice that Harry wasn't sure, either. Draco couldn't forget that second of looking up to see Snape watching coldly as Crabbe kicked him in the back. Yet he wondered later about those 15 points--a number divisible by three and not two. Crabbe, Goyle... and five for himself, for that moment of inaction?

It seemed unlikely. But he couldn't tell.

*

Dumbledore had said to come to him if anyone gave Draco a hard time, but Draco never did. He always found out, anyway. Draco rarely discussed it, even when he took beatings. There was nothing Dumbledore could do.

Still, he ended up in Dumbledore's office frequently. He told everything he could about the Death Eaters and Voldemort. It felt good to do this. It was the only thing of value he had to trade. He gave names, dates, locations, plans.

Yet Dumbledore wasn't satisfied with this. He kept inviting Draco back, plying him with tea and biscuits, and asking for more. He said that any detail would be helpful. He wanted to know how the Death Eaters worked amongst themselves. He wanted to know about the hierarchy and backstabbing and means of communication.

Draco had to admit that Dumbledore drew out useful information that he would not have thought of. But eventually he realized that Dumbledore was trying to get him to talk about what he'd been through. It was the tact that gave him away. Draco ended up revealing that Voldemort had frequently tortured him, but he refused to talk about it. He couldn't tell Dumbledore about that. Not him, with his distance and his perfect kindness and his wise understanding, with that infuriating lack of surprise. He still didn't quite trust Dumbledore. Not like that.

He might have talked to Harry, but Harry no longer asked. Harry seemed to consider him saved. He was safe at Hogwarts, save in Ravenclaw. No more plotting, no more killing, no more danger or torture or standing before Voldemort's red eyes and wondering if he'll let you live another day. Harry had swept in with his stunning bravery and luck, and he'd pulled Draco out of all that. For him, that was the end of the story. For him, the biggest problem now was figuring out his own confused sexuality. That and convincing the rest of the school to believe what he believed: that it was all over. Draco was safe in Hogwards, save in Ravenclaw, and it was all over.

Every time he felt Harry's arms around him, he believed it, too. Every kiss shrank the world until there was nothing but Harry. In those moments he knew that it was over. But those moments didn't last. Harry wasn't always there. Sometimes he would grow distant and avoid meeting Draco. Those times were an eternity.

But Draco simply waited. He trudged on. The world had already spun out of control and there was nothing he could do. So he kept doing his work, fending off the stares, comments, and blows, and standing in an empty hallway praying that this wouldn't be the night Harry came to his senses and dropped him.

*

But then the inevitable happened. The imprisoned Death Eaters escaped again. All Dementors were nowhere to be seen. The human guards of Azkaban had been killed and Azkaban itself was mostly destroyed. Draco didn't hear much in Ravenclaw and Harry didn't have time to meet with him. From a brief encounter in the hallway (where Harry grabbed him into a hug and kissed him on the cheek--a rare public display for Harry--Draco thought he must be very worried) he found that Harry didn't know much more than he did. The entire school held its breath for a week.

Then Slytherin began to empty. In one night a third of the students left. Crabbe and Goyle were in that first group. Almost everyone Draco knew was in that first group. Others continued to leave over the next few days. On the third day, Pansy came to see him.

"Draco," she said. She looked awkward. "I'm leaving. I wanted to say goodbye."

"You?" Draco was astonished and oddly hurt. Pansy's parents had never been a part of the Death Eaters. Because she and Draco had been sort of dating, Lucius tried to sound them out, with little success. He said they were a proper enough family but the most naive people he had ever encountered and he only hoped the daughter wasn't as stupid. Now they were in far enough to pull Pansy out of school? Were they going to make her fight? Draco didn't like the thought of it.

"We're leaving. Mum thinks Hogwarts is nothing but a huge target now. She wants to leave England." She paused and then said, her voice breaking, "Dad mights stay. We don't know what he means to do. He won't tell us anything except that he wants us to go. I--I don't know if we'll see him again."

Draco pulled her into his arms and she cried for a bit. "It'll be all right," he murmured. "I want you to go, too. I want you to be safe." He hadn't thought of Pansy even once for months but he found now that he desperately wanted her to be away and unharmed. She didn't belong in this kind of thing.

She pulled back and smiled at him quizzically. "He's good for you, isn't he?"

"What?"

"Harry." She brushed some of his hair behind his ear. "I can't imagine the old you caring so much what happens to me. And certainly not holding me and saying the right things." She laughed at his look and gave him a brief, fierce hug. "You take care of yourself," she said. Then she was gone.

*

Fully three quarters of Slytherin were now gone. Their entire Quidditch team was gone and so Slytherin was simply taken out of rotation. No one thought Quidditch would continue for much longer in any case, although everyone was determined to play for as long as possible.

Draco went to see Dumbledore and overheard him and Snape yelling at each other. The only words he heard clearly were Snape saying, almost with despair, "You know I can't do that--"

Draco didn't know Dumbledore very well, but even he was shocked at the idea of Dumbledore yelling. But when he eased the door open, Dumbledore looked calm as ever. Snape, on the other hand, looked a wreck.

"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said. "I'm afraid I can't speak to you just now. Could you come back in about an hour?"

"Uh--yeah," Draco said, backing out of the room. He went quickly along the halls, thinking of Snape. He'd been flushed and barely under control. There were dark circles under his eyes. How horrible this must be for him. Draco felt it, too. House Slytherin was being destroyed. Its remaining students would probably be scattered, unwanted, to the other houses. Or they would rattle around in the Slytherin dorms, always seeing the absence of the others.

Draco found himself at the portrait in front of Slytherin. He had walked here by accident again.

"Let me in," he said to the man in the portrait.

"Ho, it's you!" said the man. "Why should I let you in?"

"What does it matter now?"

The man looked uncomfortable. "I won't let you in without the password."

"Empty."

The man flinched. "Oh, fine," he said. The door opened.

Draco walked into the Slytherin common room. It was deserted. It was the most depressing thing he had ever seen. Somehow the horror or what was going to happen finally hit him through this empty room. It should be full of students--children, really, and he thought uncomfortably that maybe he also should still be a child--who had no other cares than grades and Quidditch and mocking Gryffindors. Now they were all with their Death Eater parents. And for what?

Draco heard a soft sobbing. It took a moment before he realized it was a real sound, not just the one his mind was making. He peered around and noticed a boy buried in one of the larger chairs. He was a second-year. Draco vaguely recalled him. He was curled up in a ball, crying.

"Hey. Kid," Draco said. There was no reply. He walked over to the chair. "Kid." Nothing. Draco pulled up another chair and sat down The kid didn't acknowledge his existence at all, so Draco stared into the fire.

"I don't want to go," the kid said eventually. He looked up. "You're Malfoy!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah," Draco said.

"What are you doing here?" He seemed insulted.

"What does it matter?"

"You don't belong here."

"I don't belong anywhere."

The kid started to cry again. Draco tried to remember who he was. "Harrison?" he guessed.

"Harkenson," the kid replied. "Matthew."

Right. Draco remembered the Harkensons. He could see the resemblence now. The Harkensons would be just the sort to pull a twelve-year-old into the war. "They sent you an owl?"

"Yes," Matthew sobbed. "They're coming tomorrow. I don't want to go! I don't want to be a Death Eater!"

"But," Draco floundered, "They're not going to make you be a Death Eater. They probably just don't want you at Hogwarts. They don't want you with Dumbledore."

"No! I'm to go learn Dark Arts. They want me to meet--Him, and they said if I'm lucky I can join right away!"

Draco felt sick. Voldemort would never make a twelve-year-old Death Eater--that was a committment he would not trust a child to keep--but he would probably do something with him. Draco thought of this scared boy in front of Voldemort and suddenly he was angry. "You don't have to go," he said.

"What?" Matthew looked up. "Yes, I do. They'll be here tomorrow."

"No." Draco stood up. "If I don't have to go, then no one has to go." He grabbed Matthew's hand. "Come with me."

*

Draco knocked on Dumbledore's office door. "Come in," he heard. He led Matthew inside.

"Mr. Malfoy. And Mr. Harkenson. Please sit down. What can I do for you?"

Matthew sat down. Draco did not. "Harkenson's parents are coming for him tomorrow," he said. "He doesn't want to go."

"Then he doesn't have to." He smiled at Draco. "You can sit down, Mr. Malfoy."

Somewhat embarrassed, Draco sat.

"Now, Mr. Harkenson. Normally we could not prevent a parent from withdrawing a student, but the situation is a bid different these days. You can request amnesty at this school if you think your parents are going to involve you in illegal activities."

Silently, Matthew handed him the letter from his father. Draco watched carefully as he read it and thought he saw Dumbledore wince, but he wasn't sure. "Yes," he said. "When your parents come tomorrow, I will meet with them. You don't have to go."

"Will you arrest them?" Matthew asked in a tiny voice.

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "There isn't an Azkaban any longer. I will try to talk to them, though."

"Will they be OK?"

"I don't know." Dumbledore hesitated. "Would you like to speak to them when they come?"

Matthew looked at Draco, but Draco had no idea what to say. Finally he shrugged and said, "Seeing them is harder, but maybe better."

Slowly Matthew nodded.

"Come see me tomorrow morning," Dumbledore said. "We an talk then. When they arrive you can either come with me or not." He nodded at Draco. "Can you see him back to Slytherin?"

"Sure."

At the door to Slytherin Draco put a hand on Matthew's shoulder. "It'll be OK," he said. But he was lying. The kid was safe, but safe for what? Now he got to live in an empty dorm and pretend everything was fine while his parents might die and would certainly kill. Matthew looked up at him as if he had answers to all this. What kind of example was he? He was lost. He drifted around like a ghost. He didn't want that to happen to Matthew, but what else was there?

He squeezed Matthew's shoulder and then fled down the hallway.

*

At dinner that night, Luna sat with him. She smiled dreamily at him. "What?" he asked, but she didn't answer. He didn't mind--she was always weird. He spent most of his time watching the Slytherin table. Matthew was having a frantic conversation with many other students. They frequently looked over at him.

When Draco looked again, Luna was still staring at him. "What?" he snapped.

"You're here," she said. "That's good. And you're not here. That's good, too."

Draco tried to make sense of this, but it made his brain hurt. He was trying to form some kind of reply when a voice interrupted him.

"Draco?" It was Matthew. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Uh. Sure." Draco made room on the bench. Matthew looked uncertainly at Luna. "She's OK," Draco said.

"No," said Luna. The both looked at her. "You're not here," she repeated to Draco as if speaking to someone who as very dim.

"Uh," said Draco.

"Actually, could you come to the Slytherin table? Mike wanted to talk to you."

"Sure," Draco said. He gave Luna a wary glance and she beamed at him. Draco followed Matthew to the Slytherin table. Several students crowded around him. Several glared and moved away. Mike ended up being Michael Parson, a second-year. Draco knew the Parsons vaguely. They were Death Eaters but not very important ones.

"Matt said you said we don't have to go," Michael blurted as soon as Draco sat down.

"You don't," he replied. "Just go talk to Dumbledore and you can stay here."

"But," said someone else, "What if our parents tell us to come? What if they come here to get us?" Jason something, Draco thought. He looked scared.

"You don't go. Dumbledore turns them away. It's easy." He cringed a little. It wasn't easy. They all knew that.

"But," said a scandalized first-year, "that would be like telling our parents to-- to-- bugger off."

There was some nervous tittering. Draco didn't smile. He thought of his father and said, "Sometimes they need that."

There was a silence. Then someone said, "What do you know? You're a traitor and a coward and now you want us to do the same?"

Justin Lock. Draco remembered him. He was a fourth-year, one of the three who were left. Draco wondered why he was still here. His parents might not be crazy enough to make him fight, but he was sure they would have pulled him out of Hogwarts.

Draco noticed that the students on the other end of the table were listening now. "You can't be a traitor if you haven't joined yet. I'm the only traitor here." He looked around the table and it hit him how young everyone was. All the fifth-, sixth-, and seventh-years were gone. "Everyone else is making a choice." A choice they shouldn't have to make.

"Why should we listen to you? What do you know?" Several students moved closer. Justin leaned in. "What did you do while you were away?"

Draco felt angry. Justin was so smug, asking what Draco had done as if he could possibly comprehend the answer. As if the blood and death and torture were things he could weigh in his decision whether or not to be a Death Eater. "I've seen Voldemort," he said. He was pleased to see them all flinch. "I saw him every day. He liked me." Draco suddenly remembered Voldemort's laugh, his praise that was almost affectionate, the way he would compare other Death Eaters to Draco when he punished them. He shuddered.

"So--so you told him to bugger off?" Justin asked.

Draco gave a brief laugh. "I did, once," he said, lost in the memory. "He let me mouth off all the time. Though not that time," he added. Voldemort had immediately hit him with the Cruciatus Curse and then ordered him to stand and come over. He'd stroked a finger down Draco's face and told him to watch his language. His face has burned for three days afterward.

"Did you kill anyone?" someone asked, interrupting his thoughts. "Who did you kill?"

Draco stared blankly at the kid, some second-year. He remembered the faces of the men he had killed. He tried to match that memory to the eager, curious tone of this kid and failed. He remembered the green flash as they died, he remembered watching too many other people die. He wondered if anyone here had seen anyone die and he remembered the night he told Harry he could see thestrals.

He shot up and ran from the room. He ran without seeing anything. He ran through the halls to the outer doors. He had to get outside. He had to get out of here.

He was halfway across the field when he felt hands stopping him, turning him around. "Draco, Draco!"

Harry. Draco collapsed against him, exhausted. They sank to the ground. Draco pressed his face into Harry's chest. Harry held him while he got his breath back.

"I don't tell you anything," Draco said into Harry's robes. "About what happened with Voldemort."

He felt Harry's body tighten. He felt Harry hold his breath for a moment. "You can," Harry said. But Draco said nothing. He started at a patch of moonlit grass and wished the world could be only this: moonlight and shadow and Harry.

Harry stroked his hair. "Who were you talking to?" he asked.

"Some kids from Slytherin. Some of them have gotten owls but they don't want to go. Dumbledore's going to let them stay. I was trying to tell them."

"Well, that's good."

"I think I hate them."

"Why?"

"They're so young. I don't know what to say to them. They've never--done anything, and now they're chirping away, asking who I've killed. And that one, Justin--" Draco sat up. "What a smug little bastard! Acting like I should tell him my whole life so he can make an informed choice, as if he could understand anything--what?" Draco noticed that Harry was grinning.

"Reminds me of someone I knew," Harry said.

Draco made a few incoherent noises. Was that supposed to be helpful? What, this was karma? He was trying to explain things and Harry was just insulting him--

Harry leaned over and kissed him. Draco completely forgot anything he was about to say. Harry pulled back and smiled at him with affection. "Meet me tonight?" he asked.

"Okay," said Draco.

"We should get back."

*

The next morning Draco wandered along the hallways in a daze. Last night had been incredibly sweet. It wasn't always sweet, and sometimes he didn't want it to be. But last night had been lovely, and somehow it lingered. He wasn't paying attention to where he was going and someone ran straight into him.

"Hey watch where--" But then he saw it was Matthew Harkenson, and that he was crying. "You OK? What happened?" Matthew didn't answer. "Here. Come with me." Draco steered Matthew into an empty classroom and sat him down.

Draco sat down next to him and tried to figure out what to do. He settled for just waiting. Eventually Matthew started talking.

"I went with Dumbledore to see my parents. My father got in a fight with Dumbledore and my mother started crying and saying, 'Please don't leave us.' I almost went with them. I didn't care about what Dumbledore was saying to my dad, about how I was too young or any of that. I don't really care what he thinks. This was my dad, and my mum was crying, and I almost went." He sniffed. "I should have gone."

"No," said Draco. Then, "Why didn't you?"

"I remembered the way you looked when you talked about Him. I know that's what they were taking me to. I couldn't do it." He grimaced. "I was too damn scared, that's all. I chickened out. And my father screamed that I wasn't his son and he had no son, and he dragged my mother off screaming and crying, and I just hid behind Dumbledore and didn't say a thing, I just stood there, and then I ran away." He started to sob again. "I'm just a coward."

Draco still didn't know what to say. But saying nothing didn't seem to be working anymore. "That's pretty bad," he said. "But there's more cowardly things you could have done. You could have just gone without even considering staying here, just because they said to. You could have let Dumbledore see them alone while you hid in your room. Of course, then the would have sent Howlers," he mused. "Imagine what those would have been like."

Matthew looked briefly horrified and then laughed. But soon he looked desolate again. "But I lost my family," he said. "I betrayed them. Now they're gone."

Draco looked away. "Yeah, well that's going around."

"Did you father say that, too? That you were no longer his son?"

Draco shrugged. "Not in those words," he said. "He'd said I disgraced the Malfoy name. He said I'd damaged his position with the Dark Lord. He split my face open and locked me in a dungeon and was going to hand me over to Voldemort."

Matthew gazed at him in awe. "I wish I was brave like you."

Draco snorted. "I wasn't brave. Nothing I did was brave."

"But--but you left school, by yourself. Nobody even asked you to. You went to see Him, and your parents weren't even there. And then you spied on him, and you got caught and then you escaped! All I did was stand behind Dumbledore."

Draco sighed. He didn't want to talk about this. He didn't want to think about it. "None of that was brave. I left because I thought I had to. I didn't belong anywhere else. And I didn't really spy. Not really. I only escaped because I was rescued. None of it was brave."

"But you left school by yourself and went to Him! That was still brave, no matter why you did it."

"No. I did it because I wanted to die."

There was a silence. Draco had never said that before. He had never thought it before. Matthew seemed about to say something else when a group of people burst into the room.

Five second-year Slytherins came in, headed by Michael Parson. "How did it go?" he asked. "What happened?"

Matthew, tear stains still drying on his face, shrugged and said, "It was okay I guess. Anyway it's over. Though I guess I'm an orphan, now," he added, his voice wavering.

"Join the club," said someone else, coming forward. Draco thought his name was Baker. "I just got my last owl today. They aren't even coming." A look of pain crossed his face, but he pushed it away. "I'm glad we did it all by owl. It's easier."

"Any Howlers?" Draco asked. They gaped at him but Matthew burst out laughing. Baker hesitated, then laughed a little.

"Guys," came a voice from the back. "What should I do?" They turned to look at a girl hanging toward the back of the room.

"Did you get an owl, too?" asked Michael.

"My parents are coming tomorrow," she said.

"Sarah! Why didn't you say anything?"

"I guess I was going to go. But now I don't know."

"Did you talk to Dumbledore yet?"

"No."

"You should do that. He's pretty nice," said Matthew. "We can go with you if you want." I looked unsure. "Though I'm not sure when he's around. Maybe we need to make an appointment."

"No," said Draco, standing up. "Let's go now."

"We can do that?" asked Sarah.

"He said to come by whenever I wanted to talk. So I will. Let's go."

*

At dinner Justin came over to the Ravenclaw table. Draco was sitting alone. Without asking, Justin sat across from him and started filling a place.

"You should come to Slytherin tonight," he said. "You should talk to everyone."

"Why?"

"Because they're scared. Because I can't. Because the house is falling apart. The only people doing reasonably well are the ones who've talked to you. Will you do it?"

"Sure," Draco said. "I guess." They ate in silence for a while. "Who are the prefects right now?"

"There aren't any. Crabbe was a prefect after you left--now he was a bastard--and nobody's mentioned it after everyone else left. I suppose I am, but I hate hit. Jackie and Peter are helping. They're the only other fourth-years. But it doesn't matter. Even if the rest of us stay, we're not a house anymore. We'll probably be split between the other three houses, like you were." His expression showed just what he thought of that.

"What about Snape?" Draco asked. "What's he been doing?"

"We haven't seen him much. He's exactly who should be pulling things together. But he's just not around." He sighed. "Nobody's exactly sure what side he's on, but he always seemed to be on the side of Slytherin."

Draco felt a pang of sorrow. Snape had been good to them. He suddenly missed the life he used to lead here. Everything had been taken away, even Snape. Everything he used to care about, even Slytherin itself.

"I'll come," he said. "I'll come tonight. When?"

"Come with me after dinner. I'll go tell everyone." Justin stood and went back to the Slytherin table.

*

Draco stood outside the Slytherin dorm. He tried not to show how nervous he was. He tried to to feel how nervous he was. Justin shot him a glance and then whispered the password. They entered.

Everyone was in the common room. It wasn't much. Justin, Peter, and Jackie were the three fourth-years. There were two third-years, six second-years, and five first-years. Draco was surprised to see that there were only four girls.

The two third-years glared at him with open hostility. Jackie didn't look thrilled, either. She kept close to the three other girls, the second-year Draco had met earlier and two first-years.

Some looked excited. Some looked hostile. Everyone looked interested and, Draco realized, everyone looked scared.

"So," Draco said. "This is everyone who wouldn't go."

"I would go," snapped a first-year. Draco didn't know who he was at all. "Not everyone was sent for."

"Some of us still call you traitor," said a third-year. Smith, something Smith. And his friend was Carter. They stood near each other and sent him matching looks of death.

"Do you call the rest of them traitors?" Draco asked. He motioned at the second-years he knew. "Is anyone who refused to leave a traitor?"

Smith looked at the ground. He and Carter exchanged a glance. They saw the younger kids watching with apprehension and flushed. Draco was relieved--if the people left were divided then the House really would fall apart. "No," said Smith. "Just you. Because you went! You served you-know-who! They counted on you and you betrayed them."

"Yes, I did," replied Draco. "And if that did them even the slightest damage then I'll be glad of it forever."

There was a rush or murmuring at this. Some looked angry, but some looked relieved. Here was someone who had chosen against his parents was stood by it.

"Why?" asked Justin. "Why is lying and betrayal the right choice?"

Draco's heart skipped. He'd thought Justin was going to be helpful. "I'm the only one who lied and betrayed. I said that before. Everyone here has the choice not to go in the first place. And it's the right choice because there's going to be a war! You have no idea what's going to happen."

"So you're just a coward," said the first-year who wanted to go.

Draco looked at him helplessly. He had no idea how to convey what Voldemort was like, what being a Death Eater meant. He suddenly longed for Potter's Pensieve, so that he could just take his tangled memories and stuff them into this kid.

But as soon as he thought it, he didn't want to do it. It was all too private. He would never want to share pure memory like that. He marveled at how Harry had been able to do it. Harry had given him that.

He looked down at this furious kid and he realized something else. This kid was lucky not to know. He was only eleven years old. He shouldn't have to look Voldemort in the eye. He shouldn't have to feel the Cruciatus Curse. He shouldn't have to kill. He shouldn't even have to know of the existence of these things. Draco's memories would hurt him.

Which is another thing Harry had been able to do.

Draco stared at the first-year, trying to figure out how to explain anything. Then the kid looked away and burst into tears. Matthew came over and put an arm around him.

Draco swallowed. "Yes. I'm a coward. I was a coward for going. And no, I don't particulary want to be in a war. Especially on the wrong side. I think you all understand that. You're the ones who understand."

"We do," said Jackie. "So we don't need you. So you can leave."

Draco glanced at Justin, but he only sat waiting for Draco to answer.

"I think you do need me," he said. "Slytherin is falling apart."

"We're fine," said Jackie.

"No, we're not," threw in Justin.

"Who here has even been going to classes?" Draco asked. Everyone looked away. "Are they even holding Slytherin classes?"

"We don't need you," Jackie growled, standing up. "We don't want you. You're Ravenclaw. You left Slytherin. Don't expect that you can walk back in now that your friends are gone. You think that now you can come back and rule us? Now that nobody's going to thrash you for walking in the door?"

Draco sighed. "Yes. I did go to Ravenclaw and I couldn't have stayed here. Yes. Slytherin wasn't where I belonged. Maybe I don't belong here now." He stared at the floor for a moment. "And Crabbe and Goyle, well, that was more personal. That wasn't just about Slytherin." He looked up. "But I do know one thing. Slytherin was great for many reasons. Voldemort wasn't one of them. When he took power he took Slytherin, too. While he ruled this house, I didn't belong here. Now his followers are gone. Is Slytherin still his? Will it just fall apart in their wake?" There was a silence. "I don't want that to happen," Draco said.

"I don't, either!" said Matthew. Then everyone was standing and shouting.

"Shut up!" screamed Jackie. They all obeyed. "We're trying to decide if we're letting Malfoy back into Slytherin."

"Oh--hey--I don't know if that's even--" Draco began.

"I don't care where you're sorted," Jackie said. "I mean whether we should listen to you or have anything to do with you. What do you all think?" There was a silence and she sighed, irritated. "Personally I think it would be better to have him around. We need all the help we can get."

"Besides," said Justin, "I need help with my arithmancy homework." Some of the younger kids tittered. "Who does not want Malfoy back as Prefect?"

No one replied. Not everyone seemed happy. But no one replied.

"Good," said Jackie. She turned to Draco. "Do you think you can switch houses? Officially, I mean."

"I can try," Draco said. He was slightly bewildered--that had all happened very quickly.

"Then we're done." She gathered the girls and abruptly left for the girls' dorm.

"Any questions?" asked Justin. He seemed amused.

Draco looked around. Then he pointed at the first-year who was now done crying and back to being angry. "What's your name? I can't remember."

"Louis Sobell."

"Good to meet you." Draco spun on his heel and marched out of the room.

Outside the door to Slytherin he caught his breath. Then he laughed nervously and made his way back to Ravenclaw.

*

"Draco! Please come in." Draco edged into Dumbledore's office. He wasn't sure how to do this. He sat down.

"What can I do for you?" Dumbledore asked.

"I would like to rejoin House Slytherin."

Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted.

"FINALLY!" screamed a voice from the corner of the room. Draco leapt out of his chair and Dumbledore nearly did, as well. Sitting on a shelf in the corner was the sorting hat.

Draco slowly sat back down. Dumbledore smiled at him. "What can I say after that? You are now Slytherin."

"Uh," said Draco. "That's it? I don't have to... wear the hat or anything?"

"It appears not," said Dumbledore. "What do you say, hat?" he called to the corner.

The hat muttered something that sounded like, "You people are killing me."

"I'm afraid the damage to House Slytherin has been very hard on our Sorting Hat," Dumbledore confided. "Now there is one problem with your return to Slytherin. There no longer are any sixth-year classes. You are the only one. I see two things we can do. You could remain in your Ravenclaw classes. Or, since many Slytherin classes were doubled with Gryffindor, we could declare all classes doubled and you would take classes with Gryffindors."

Draco didn't particularly like either option. He didn't think he could stay with Ravenclaw. He already didn't belong there. He was imposing. If he started wearing Slytherin colors, they wouldn't take it well. Whereas he wouldn't be imposing on the Gryffindors. He would be in Slytherin classes. The idea of being the only one in a room full of Gryffindors didn't sound good--

Except that it did. Suddenly he loved the idea. He would saunter in wearing Slytherin colors and stare them all down. He could do it alone. He wanted this. It felt like coming home.

He was nervous about taking classes with Harry, though. He didn't spend much time around Harry's friends. He wans't sure how that would go. But he had to find out someday.

"I'll take Slytherin classes," he said.

*

Dumbledore arranged his schedule, figured out a few more details of the move, and then sent him to see Snape. Draco tried to harden himself with every step. He had no idea what Snape would do. But he wouldn't let Snape stand in his way. Having the Head of House as your enemy would be hard, but Draco could do it. He just wasn't looking forward to it.

Draco knocked on Snape's office and went in. Snape looked surprised to see him. "Mr. Malfoy. What are you doing here?"

"I've rejoined Slytherin."

"You have. My, you do get around. When did this happen?"

"This morning." He handed Snape a copy of the notice to all teacher concerning sixth-year Slytherin classes. He thought he saw a slight smile on Snape's face as he read it.

"Well," he said. "This is fascinating. After all your adventures you're going to reboard the sinking ship. One might conclude you are masochistic."

"Slytherin is going to be fine!" Draco snapped. "I'm not going to let them be split into the other houses even if you're willing to let it happen. It's just smaller. I'm prefect and I saw we can hold--"

"You're prefect? No, I think I would have noticed making you prefect. You abandoned that position. Why should I give it back to you?"

Draco hadn't thought of that. He did now and found that he didn't care. "The students want me to be prefect," he said. "What you say doesn't matter."

Snape lost all trace of amusement. "Watch yourself, Mr. Malfoy."

"No." Draco was surprised at how angry he was. "Where have you been? What have you been doing to hold Slytherin together? I don't care how busy you are. I don't even care which side you're on. Stay out of Slytherin's business."

Snape sat back. He sighed and smiled slightly. "If," he said, "I were spying on the Death Eaters for the Order, I would have to appear to be encouraging all Slytherins to leave the school. The dissolution of Slytherin is fine because it's a step towards the dissolution of Hogwarts. I should be doing everything possible to make those children leave. However, I have been too busy to bother with this duty. I've barely been in the house at all, so I can't be expected to influence those students. Do you understand?"

Slowly, Draco nodded.

"Good." Snape stood and went to a closet. He pulled out a green scarf of Slytherin and tossed it to Draco. "Welcome back to Slytherin. Potions with Gryffindor starts in ten minutes."

He went to the door, motioning for Draco to leave. Draco stood in the hallway clutching his scarf while Snape locked his door. Snape turned to him for a moment.

"I'm glad you're back." Then he strode off down the hall.

*

Draco stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He adjusted his scarf and straightened his hair. He could do this. He would sweep into that room and recreate the majesty of Slytherin by himself. It just took confidence--posturing and arrogance. He excelled at these things. He realized that this, too, was a kind of strength.

He walked into Potions class and met the astonished looks with a steely, proud gaze. Snape announced that all Gryffindor classes would be doubled with Slytherin. He told Draco to sit but Draco stood to face the class for a moment longer. Some people were horrified. Some were angry. Draco stared them down.

And Harry. Harry was astonished and dismayed. He would stare Harry down, as well, if he needed to. He stood straight as a rod in his richest robes and wouldn't back down. Even if his heart clenched and his breath stopped because Harry just sat there with his mouth hanging open and his friends muttering and frowning.

Then Harry grinned. He grinned despite himself. He grinned with an amazed affection. He shook his head in disbelief and grinned at Draco, and Draco breathed again. Harry jerked his head in invitation and Draco sat down next to him.

Snape started right in firing question at the class. He left Draco alone until he saw that Draco could keep up. Then he started calling on Draco all the time. On one question, Seamus gave a correct but incomplete answer and Snape took points from Gryffindor, snubbed Hermione, and awarded points to Slytherin for Draco's complete answer. And someone in the class moaned, "Oh, not again. Nothing's changed at all."

Draco smirked and to his surprise, Harry burst out laughing. He caught Draco's eye and Draco immediatly understood. Something was the same. In the wreckage of their lives they had come back to something that was the same as before. It was wonderful. It was intoxicating. Harry grinned wildly and other people started to smile or giggle. Not everyone. But both Ron and Hermione did it.

Harry shot him a mischievous look at squeezed his thigh under the table. Draco realized with a jolt how great it was that some things were not the same as before. Some things were deliciously different.

*

Draco walked into the Slytherin common room. "Well, you lot look cheerful. What are you doing?"

Several students looked up from their books and parchment. Some were just staring out the windows or into the fire.

"There's a Quidditch match today. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Who wants to go heckle?"

No one replied, though everyone looked at him with a bit of interest. "We have to study," someone said. "We're still behind."

"But it's Quidditch," Draco said. "And heckling Gryffindors. There's always time for that."

Again no one replied. Draco saw how tired everyone looked. One student by the fire had dried tearstains on his face--a first-year who had recently had a long fight by owl with his parents. They were all just barely getting through the days. They were studying now--or some of them were--but nobody was enjoying it.

"Well, you have to go," Draco said. "We have to watch our opponents and study what they do. How else could we beat them?" He watched with a satisfied smirk as the meaning sank in. All eyes turned to him. "We're reforming the Quidditch team," he continued. "Why not? Those brooms belonged to the house and I think most of them are still here. Everyone can try out. In fact it's mandatory. Go get everyone." He waved a hand in the direction of the dorms. "Go. Now."

Some students got up and uncertainly shuffled to the dorms. But then some were laughing and running. They dragged disbelieving people from their rooms and soon Draco was looking over a bunch of confused, wary, excited kids.

"Great. Let's go." Draco led the bunch of them through the halls and out to the Quidditch field. He set them in a pack on the bleachers and kept a running commentary on the game, pointing out good moves with grudging admiration and gleefully harping on mistakes.

Draco let them go after the game, yelling, "Tryouts are tomorrow! Attendance is mandatory!" Then he rushed off to beg Dumbledore to let him to it.

*

Harry caught him in the hall after dinner. "Meet me tonight?" he asked.

"Sure. Actually--" Draco hesitated. "There's no other sixth-years in Slytherin. I have a room to myself. Do--do you want to come there, instead?"

Harry looked briefly thrown. "Okay," he said. His brow furrowed. "Will you let me in, or what?"

"Um. The password is 'tomatoes.'" Draco flushed. "Don't tell anyone else. I'll wait for you in the common room."

Draco felt guilty giving Harry the house password when he himself has just been welcomed back in. But he trusted that Harry wouldn't tell anyone or do anything wrong. And he couldn't bear the thought of standing in the hallway, waiting for Harry, hoping he didn't get caught. He wanted to be done with that.

*

Draco was afraid someone would see the door open by itself, but he was the only one awake and even he didn't notice. He read by the fire until he felt a hand stroking through his hair. He smiled vaguely at the blank wall and let the way to his room without a word.

When he closed the door, Harry came out of his cloak. He laid it carefully on a chair and stood clutching a small bundle to his chest.

"What's that?" Draco asked.

Harry waved the bundle. "Pajamas," he said.

"Oh." Draco went to fetch his own pajamas. They looked at each other uncertainly and then Harry turned his back to change.

When they met in the shed, everything physical was fumbling and desperate, or else sweetly timid. Everything felt hasty and stolen. Being in this empty bedroom felt completely different. Draco turned his back as well and changed into his pajamas facing the wall.

When he was done he turned and saw Harry's profile starting fixedly at the wall. Harry noticed the movement and turned to him. They stood awkwardly.

"Which bed is yours?" asked Harry.

"That one." Draco waved a hand.

They both went to the bed and got under the covers. They lay side by side, not touching. Then Draco reached for Harry and they settled easily into each other arms. It was exquisitely comfortable.

Harry stroked Draco's hair. "I saw you with your whole brood today," he said. "At the game. I'm pretty sure I saw them all laugh when I almost got hit by my own beater."

"Well, you have to admit it was pretty funny." Draco stroked a hand along Harry's arm, pushing up the pajama sleeve. "They're in training. We're going to reform the team."

"You are?" Harry sounded astonished and delighted. "So you'll be a Seeker again. I'll get to meet you again as a Seeker."

Draco smiled, tilted his head up, and kissed him.

*

Harry caught up with him late the next day. "How were your tryouts?"

"Crazy. But we've got a team."

"Are you the Seeker?"

"No," he said, slightly embarrassed. "I'm a Beater. I'm one of the few people strong enough to do it."

"Oh," said Harry. "I'm sorry. I know you liked being Seeker."

"No, it's good. I was going to be Keeper but Justin Lock turned out to be amazing. Jackie Parks is our other Beater--you better watch out for her." He grinned. "We've got a first-year as our Seeker. But don't worry, we're halfway through the year so you're still the youngest ever Seeker by a few months. He flies like a demon. Plus he's tiny--you'll feel extra guilty if you knock him off his broom."

Harry looked affronted. "I never tried to knock anyone off their broom!" Draco cocked an eyebrow at him. "Well, it doesn't count if it's you."

Draco grinned and leaned closer. "Come tonight?"

Harry brushed his face against Draco's. "Yes."

*

"All right," Draco said. "I guess this is your pep talk."

"We're going to lose," said Chris, their Seeker.

"Of course we're going to lose. We're playing against Harry Potter. He doesn't lose, it's like a law of nature."

"Great pep talk," said Justin.

"That's not the point. The point is to make them work for it. The point is to make them gasp and trip all over themselves. The point is to give them a good fight--and since they won't be expecting it, things could get very interesting."

The beginning didn't go well, but what Draco hated most was the silence of the crowd. Most of the school was there but no one cheered very much. Normally everyone cheered for their team and cheered against Slytherin. But nobody was saying much for Gryffindor and some Hufflepuffs were lamely cheering for Slytherin.

This wouldn't do at all. Draco didn't want their pity. He was too busy assessing all this to pay attention to the game, and before he knew it Gryffindor had scored.

There was some brief, polite cheering that ended as soon as it began. Then, as the players regrouped, a godawful roaring split the silence. Most Slytherin and many Gryffindor players startled badly and flew off course. Draco looked down and saw everyone looking toward the Ravenclaws. Someone in Ravenclaw was wearing a lion's head.

Draco gave up on this and returned to the game. He was getting angry. Being a Beater, this worked out well. He set his mind to knocking as many Gryffindors as possible off their brooms. And he found this got results. The crowd began reacting despite themselves. When he knocked a Gryffindor Chaser clear off her broom and she had to be caught by the another Chaser, they were yelling. Draco was exhilarated. Punctuating the crowd was that strange lion's roar. It roared when they cheered and it roared when they booed.

Draco regrouped with his team for a brief meeting. "This is awful," said Michael, who was a Chaser. "They hate us!"

"This is wonderful," corrected Draco. "They respect us enough to hate us. This is even better than I could have hoped." He let out a wild laugh and some of his teammates edged away. He noticed Jackie slowly start to smile. "Everybody just keep going. Do the best you can to be surprising." They flew out and resumed the game.

Gryffindor scored several times and then Harry seemed to see the Snitch. Draco noticed that Chris was right on it, as well. He wasn't as good a flier, but Draco was pleased that he'd seen it quickly.

He left them to it and returned to the game. When Justin made a great save and got the Quaffle to a Slytherin Chaser, Draco was surprised to hear loud cheering. He looked down at his tiny Slytherin section and saw that two students were standing on either side and chanting. Now the others were much louder. They were loud enough to compete with all of Gryffindor.

Draco bashed the Bludger around enthusiastically. They were losing badly but he didn't care. Then came a point where he and Jackie got both Bludgers and Michael had the Quaffle, and they sent all three straight at Ron. With the confusion and a little luck, they scored a goal.

The lion roar went off. Then Draco heard the Slytherins. Amplified even louder than before, they bellowed out a rousing rendition of "Weasley is Our King."

Draco had never felt prouder in his life.

*

Draco undressed and slid into bed with Harry. "I have to get up early tomorrow," he warned.

Harry nuzzled his face against Draco's neck. "What's happening tomorrow?"

"Some Death Eaters are coming to the school."

Harry drew back and Draco laughed at his look. "To pick up another kid. Dumbledore will kick them out; nobody's in danger."

"Who's coming?"

"The Sobells. I'm going to be there, along with the other Prefects and some of Louis's friends. He's--it's going to be bad." He put an arm around Harry, who pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Did you know them?" he asked.

"Who, the Sobells? Oh, sure. Not Louis, he was too young. But his father is practically my father's servant. He was around all the time." Draco smiled distantly. "I was thinking he could deliver a nice message to my father. You know, something succinct. I'm composing it as we speak."

"Oh, yeah?" Draco could hear the grin in Harry's voice. He felt a hand slide down his back.

"Well, maybe I'll do it later," Draco said as Harry kissed him.

**


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