Disclaimer: There's a lot of things in here which you will recognize from JKR's wonderful world – they're hers, not mine. And it would have been nice, but no, I'm not making any money from this.

A/N: With only the tiniest of exceptions exception this is strictly based on canon. I've only chosen to interpret the things that actually happened in the books a bit different. Big thanks to Millior and Amber Honley who are my appreciated beta readers, and to Lily for being an endless source of joy.


Some things are given and denied us (we can't have them).

Some things are given and denied by us (we refuse to acknowledge them).


Chapter 1


The flames are everywhere, and the heat is becoming unbearable. In the shapes of horses, dragons and lions they move their way steadily towards Draco. It is no good running any more, there is nowhere to run to and he's out of time. More fiery animals appear, closing in on him from all sides. He knows that he will soon die – it scares him more than he thought was possible – and he feels so utterly and heartbreakingly alone.

And then there is a movement above him. Something dark moves through the smoke, and Harry is there all of a sudden, clinging to his broom as he dives and reaches out a hand for Draco. Draco has started to stretch out his own when he sees something moving in the corner of his eye. From one side comes a giant wave of fire, crashing down over the piles of rubbish. He watches in speechless horror as the wave crashes over Harry and drowns him in a raging inferno.

"Noo! Harry, no! Harry, please, no!"

Draco sits straight up in the bed, panting and wet with sweat. His throat is sore, so he guesses that it has been one of the screaming nights. He slips out of bed on shaking legs and gives himself some light. Then he picks up his dressing gown and walks over to the window. It is still dark outside, but he can see the first rays of light showing at the skyline. He gives a snort that is far too close to a sob, but the parallels are painful to him, taunting him with the fact of the absence of light in his own sky. He pokes at his reflection in the window. Draco Malfoy, eighteen years old and without a future stands in front of him. And the reason for that sleeps two corridors away, saved by a last minute change of loyalties. His father. His face grows grim when he thinks about his family. He knows that he is supposed to be happy to have his family still intact but, especially in dark wakeful nights like this, he wonders what the Ministry had been thinking when they let Lucius Malfoy go free. They knew what he had done, and still they set him free. On lifetime probation and under house arrest, of course, but still, if anyone deserves Azkaban it is his father. The familiar heat awakens in his stomach. If it wasn't for his father he could be out there with all others, starting a new, joyful life. Instead he sits here with one of the most hated names in the country and on probation himself. He closes his eyes and clenches his teeth hard. He will never, ever forgive his father for what he did to him, for what he made him do. Always so eager to show the Dark Lord what a loyal and resourceful son he had, and when you stand there, in front of the Dark Lord himself, you don't say no. Draco might be many things, but he isn't suicidal. And then his father dragged his mother into it all, and suddenly he was responsible for her life too. The children of other Death Eaters were never pushed like Draco was, their parents kept them out of the war. It just isn't fair.

He sits down on the bed, turning the dream over and over in his head, still unable to get more out of it than a shiver and a feeling of hopelessness. He knows that dream too well, it haunts him all too often. Night after night he is trapped, waiting for his death. Night after night Harry enters, risking his own life to save Draco. Night after night he has to watch Harry die in front of his eyes, knowing that it's all his fault. He fights back the nausea that sometimes follows the dream and walks over to the window again. He presses his forehead against the cool glass, closing his eyes. Harry. The celebrated Saviour, The Chosen One, the great Harry Potter. Draco doesn't want any of them. He just wants Harry. There is a sob that he almost succeeds in stifling. He is so totally and thoroughly fucked. He can't help snorting at the double meaning, if it only was that as well. He decides hastily that he should drop that thought fast if he wants to keep his sanity. The usual thoughts about Harry are bad enough.

It's nothing new of course, the attraction had been there since they had both stopped being kids. He thinks for a moment about Harry's life. Scratch that. Since Draco had stopped being a kid. Unfortunately he was already caught up in a plan that, in the end, should have lead to Harry's death by then. He curses his father under his breath. He had had his hated name back then, but maybe he could have convinced Harry to look past that. Instead he stole glances when he was in the same room, slowed down if he could when he passed, just to hear him talking. And then there was that strange thing, a thing that should have given him hope if he hadn't been so tied up in the Dark Lord. Because when they glared at each other there was something more than contempt in Harry's eyes. There was a glimmer of curiosity and interest. If Lucius Malfoy hadn't been his father, he could have been able to find out what that glimmer meant.

Draco walks back to to the bed and decides to give sleep another try. Lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, the thoughts come back. In two weeks time he'll be going back to Hogwarts, and he's sure that Harry will too. What will he find in his eyes this year? He sighs. What does it matter? They're not even The Chosen One and the Malfoy this time, this year it is The Saviour of the Wizard World and the sentenced minion of the Dark Lord, a child of a Death Eater and a Malfoy in addition to that. No, whatever hopes and dreams he has he had better take them and bury them deep, or he'll be in for a hell of a lot of pain. The second to last thought that runs through his mind before he falls asleep is that he wishes someone could tell him how to bury those things. The last one is that when he wakes up it will only be twelve days until he'll see Harry again.


Standing on Platform nine and three quarters, Draco feels a wave of meaninglessness. Why is he doing this to himself? What difference will some N.E.W.T.s make when you bear the Malfoy name? He can feel people's eyes on him, and an old lady even is rude enough to point. Draco would do anything not to be a Malfoy any more; he hates the name and all it stands for, and he wishes he could disown himself. But that will never happen. Being the only child and having a father who is fanatical about the plans for Draco to produce the next heir, that just isn't an option. He boards the train and starts looking for a compartment that will allow a sentenced Dark wizard to enter. While he walks he wonders what his father would say if he knew that he is gay. Would that be enough to disown him? He's afraid not. His father would probably find him a wife anyway, and ensurehis will was done. Lucius Malfoy is scarily effective when it comes to getting what he wants. He spots Pansy in a compartment, sitting next to the window and ignoring the three chatting Slytherin fourth-years on the seat opposite her. Pansy and he have been friends since first year, she's one of those who might actually accept him. He opens the door and stops hesitantly in the door, feeling four pairs of eyes turning to him.

"Can I sit here?"

One of the teens snorts and another puts her mouth to her friends ear, whispering something. The girl giggles.

Pansy smiles at him though. "Of course." She pats the seat next to her.

He sits down and gives her an appraising look, remembering the train ride two years ago. He was scared as hell, but a Malfoy to the fingertips. He had been lying on a seat like this with his head in Pansy's lap, a picture of self-confidence and content. And above him Harry was lying, listening and trying to snoop in Draco's business. A Draco who didn't know what he felt, other than that Harry's presence affected him more than anyone else's. He remember the waves of despair, fear and then consuming anger over everything that was wrong in his life. And he took it out on Harry. He closes his eyes and tries to push away the picture of Harry's face covered in blood.

"Draco, are you OK?" Pansy's expression is worried.

Draco looks at the fourth-years, but they are chatting happily without giving them a glance. "Should I be?" He can't help it, his smirk is hollow and his voice is bitter.

"I see." She bites her lip, then smiling a small but familiar smile. "Well, soon we'll be back at Hogwarts. Just like old times. Almost."

"Yeah. Do you look forward to it?"

"I need my N.E.W.T.s. I can't say I'm thrilled, but it is Hogwarts after all, it's my second home." Pansy looks pensive. "What about you?"

"I can't say I'm thrilled either. I won't be the most loved student this year."

"No, we both know who that will be." She smirks.

A stab of pain goes through Draco at the thought of Harry. "So you know that he will be coming back?"

"Yes, I saw him earlier. He was passing outside on the platform, looking as if he was going to start biting people's heads off." She snickers. "Not that it stopped people from coming to talk to him, putting their hands on his arm, shaking his hand." Pansy rolls her eyes. " I think he had to stop three times just in the time the took for him to pass my window."

Suddenly Draco hates Harry's fame, one of the things that determinately pushes them apart. When he talks his sarcastic voice drips with disdain. "Poor, celebrated Harry Potter."

Pansy gives him a searching look. "Do you want me to give you a piece of advice?"

"Can I stop you?" He rolls his eyes.

"Yes. Just say no. I'm not going to force anything on you."

He sighs. "Just tell me."

"If I were you, I would be careful with what I say about Harry Potter. I don't have to tell you that a lot of people will find it very offensive if they hear you."

Draco groans. "I know, I know. Let's just talk about something other then Potter, shall we?"

"Of course." Pansy is silent for some time. "Draco, may I ask you a question?"

"Yes." He rolls his eyes.

"You know, you and I, people won't like us this year." She gives him a sad smile. "You the most I'm afraid. Do you have any plan for how to cope with that?"

"I'm planning to eat, sleep, do my homework flawlessly, be attentive in lessons, all the time keeping my head down and pretending I don't exist." There's a flicker of pain in his eyes. "As well as I can." And without making a total idiot of myself pining after Harry.

Pansy nods slowly. "I think that's a good plan. I might use some of it."


The Feast is magnificent, as usual. He sees some smug eleven-year-old copies of himself taking their place at their table. Was he really that arrogant and filled with self-importance? He sighs and knows that he was; and he wonders if those kids will grow up and be happy or if they will follow in his tracks. Sighing once more he turns back to his food. Pansy is sitting down the table with two seventh-years she knows, and Draco ended up next to Blaise. It's nice, he hasn't seen Blaise since their sixth year, and now he is talking happily about his time in Italy, about girls and culture and wine. Things feel almost normal for a short time, until he looks up and meets the eye of a Hufflepuff girl at the next table. Her face is furious and she looks like she's considering jumping over the tables and stabbing him to death with a spoon. An educated guess would be that he is looking at a person who has lost someone close to them in the war. In a way he wants to apologize to the girl, try to make things better, but at the same time he reminds himself that he is not responsible for all the horrors of the war. His belief in the Dark Lord shattered when the war came, when he was forced to grow up and started to look at things in different perspective than he had as a child. He did many bad things during the war, he can't deny that, but he never did it for pleasure or personal gain. Only to survive. He wants to tell the girl this, to explain, but he's pretty sure it would be wasted time, she would never listen to him. To her he's just another Death Eater gone free. A murderer. He stares down in his plate, looking at the food that he cannot possibly force down now. This is where Blaise saves him from his thoughts, again, by starting to talk about one of the seventh-year girls and whether her nose is too big or not. Draco can't help smiling. Yes, it's nice to have Blaise back.

oOo

When the Feast is over McGonagall asks the returning seventh-years to stay with her. The way the students from the other houses hug and greet each other makes it obvious that they have all been friends since earlier. Someone mentions Dumbledore and Draco swallows hard. But wait, Dumbledore's Army, wasn't that –

"You are very welcome here, all of you." McGonagall doesn't look at Draco when she says this, but some of the students do. "To avoid confusion you will be called eighth-years, to distinguish you from the ordinary seventh-years. You will have separate classes with the rest of your year, and you will share a common room and dormitories in a separate tower. In addition you will not be a part of any house this year, you will all wear Hogwarts colours."

There are some mumbling at this, obviously this isn't entirely popular. Draco doesn't know how to feel about it. There would be some feeling of safety in the Slytherin common room, he has a suspicion that Slytherin will be nicer to him then the other houses. But the eighth-years are few, hopefully people will keep things civilized to keep a decent climate in the tower. And there is Harry. His first reaction is pure joy, he will be spending a lot of time with Harry. Bet then he has second thoughts. Being that close to him, spending most of the day with him, it's possible that it could be troublesome. Spending his days watching what he can't have will get old fast.

McGonagall takes out a parchment. "Abbot, Bones, Granger, Greengrass and Parkinson, being the only girls you will share a dormitory. Boot, Corner, Finch-Fletchley, Finnigan, Goldstein and Longbottom, you will share the large dormitory." Draco catches his breath. "And that leaves Malfoy, Potter, Weasley and Zabini in the other."

Draco forces his breathing to go back to normal. To have Blaise in his dormitory is more then he could have hoped for. But the Gryffindors... Weasley who shoots him glares which tell him that if he doesn't keep his toes in the line this year there will be hell to pay. Draco has been on the receiving end of his punches before, and Weasley seems to have filled out well in the last year. Malfoys aren't supposed to be scared, but since he doesn't want to be a Malfoy any more he ignores that, and admits that maybe the red-headed Gryffindor scares him a little. And Harry. Not only will he spend all his days in the same classes and sharing a common room, he will now have him close at night too. They will live so close together, Draco will see his tired face in the mornings and see him undress every night, and then know that he is lying in a bed that is far too close. This could be an interesting year. It still remains to be seen how long he will be able to keep his sanity.

"Your belongings have already been brought to your dormitories. The entrance to the tower is on third floor on the west wall, next to the portrait of Bardussa the Somnolent. The password is 'Una Prorsum'." McGonagall looks around at the students. "I want you to remember that you are adults, and I want you all to act as such." It is possible that her gaze rests a little longer on Draco and Harry. "You have all come from different houses, but this year you will forget that. Now you are only students in Hogwarts' eighth year, nothing else."

oOo

When Draco comes up to the dormitories he can hear from the voices that Harry and Weasley are already there. Hearing that they talk about himself and Blaise he stops and listens.

"Of all the guys in our year we got stuck with the snakes." Ron huffs and drops something on the bed, probably clothes.

Harry's voice is muffled, possibly from talking with his face in a wardrobe. "We're not supposed to care what house they were, remember?"

"But I still can't see why we got both of them."

"It's called alphabetical order. Blame your parents." There's a big thud that indicates that Harry just threw himself down on the bed.

Ron snorts. "I'd rather blame the snakes' parents. They deserve it."

"I've heard that the Zabinis were neutral during the war, that they left the country and didn't come home again until it was over."

"Well. They were just cowardly snakes then."

"You're persistent, I'll give you that." Harry laughs. "But the war is over and we should try to make the best out of the situation. Stop calling them snakes. Give the guy a chance."

"You're the one to talk."

Harry sighs deep and when he talks it's with a certain irritation. "But that's not because he's a Slytherin, it's because he's Malfoy."

Draco freezes outside the door. He had hoped that the war would wash away some of their animosity, but that obviously wasn't the case with Harry; and it hurts more than he thought it would. He draws a shaky breath, puts an uncaring mask in place and enters the room. The two ex-Gryffindors look up at him. He nods at them and goes on until he reaches the bed furthest away from the door. Without a word, or any more looks at the other boys, he starts to unpack. An uneasy silence settles over the room.

The silence is broken when Blaise enters. He greets Harry and Ron with a small smile and a 'Hi'. The boys mumble something back and follow him with their eyes when he claims the last bed, next to Draco.

"Hey, Draco?" Blaise looks at him.

"Mm."

"Will you be studying Arithmancy this year?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. I won't, I don't think I'm really going to need it. And I think it will be better for me to put bigger focus on fewer classes."

"Mm."

Blaise senses a lost case and gives up on talking, starting to unpack instead, and the silence settles once more. All four boys makes themselves ready for bed, and now there is some sound as Ron and Harry talk in hushed voices, ending in a 'good night'. Then the silence is back again.

The last thing Draco does before he goes to bed is to find the translation for the password. When he has discovered it he stares at the words, and then an old-time sneer flashes over his face. McGonagall either lives in denial or has a very strange kind of humour.

oOo

The next morning Harry is up first, already dressed and sitting on his bed when Blaise and Draco get out of bed. Ron is still hidden in the bedclothes, and even though Harry pokes him with a toe every now and then he doesn't surface. Blaise is putting on his tie when Harry starts to speak.

"So, Zabini, how does it feel to be in a tower, aboveground?"

Blaise looks surprised. "Um. A bit strange with the windows. But the beds are the same, so it's really not so big a difference at night."

"There's a note on the message board about our meals. Since there are fewer Slytherins this year they have made space for the eighth-years at the end of their table." Harry looks intently at his thumb for a while before looking up again. "I was thinking that I should wait for you and we can go all..." There is the tiniest of pauses. "...four of us together." He gives Ron a playful kick. "If we ever get Ron out of bed, that is."

A surprised smile dawns on Blaise face. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea." He looks at Ron. "Have you tried water? Wait, where is my wand..."

There's a groan from the bedclothes. "No, no water. I'm awake, I'm awake."

"It works every time." Blaise grins.

They get Ron out of bed and manage to get him through the morning routine in a surprisingly short space of time. Meanwhile Harry sits on Ron's bed and talks with Blaise. Their conversation is halting, but they are both trying to carry it on. Draco is sitting on his bed, reading a book, but Harry soon get a feeling that he spends very little time actually reading, because almost every time Harry looks over at him his eyes are on Harry. And every time he gets caught looking he hastily turns back to his book. Harry frowns. What was Malfoy up to now?

oOo

When the four boys make it to the Entrance Hall they are late, and most of the school is already eating. At the doors to the Great Hall stands a redhead with an impatient expression. Ron sends Harry a compassionate look.

"Harry!" Ginny hurries over to him. "I've been waiting here for ages, where have you been?"

"Um. I was just waiting for the others to be ready. So we could go together." Harry looks uneasy.

Ginny stares at the ex-Slytherins and narrows her eyes. "You rather go with them than me?"

"It's not about going with them or you. I'm here now, right?" Harry gives her a hopeful glance.

"You're right." She smiles and puts her arm under Harry's, and starts to walk them towards the Great hall.

Harry doesn't miss the amused look that Blaise and Draco exchange, and he scowls at them.

They enter the Great Hall and Ginny tugs at Harry's arm. "Come on, I asked them to save two seats for us."

"Um, Ginny?" Harry mentally ducks in case of an incoming storm. "I can't sit with you."

"What? Why not?" Ginny stops and stares at him.

"Because I'm an eighth-year now, I don't belong to any house any more. I'll sit with the other eighth-years from now on." Harry tries to sound calm and soothing.

"You've got to be kidding me. The prefects told us that the eighth-years wouldn't be living with us, but you must be able to..." She stops and blinks. "Harry?"

Harry plays with his sleeve. Why can't the other boys just go on instead of standing and witness this? He doesn't have to look to picture Malfoy´s smug smirk. "Yes?"

"What did you say about houses? Are you trying to tell me that you're not a Gryffindor any more?" She's starting to look upset.

"Um. I guess I'm not."

"But how will they know which class you should be in then?" There's a irritated note in her voice now.

"You see..." Harry bites his lip. "Ginny, we won't have classes with you, eighth-years will have their own classes together."

Ginny stares at him, an angry frown forms on her face. "So you're saying that we won't live together, we won't have classes together, and we can't even have meals together." Her lips are tightly pressed together. "You're unbelievable." She gives him an angry glare, turns on the spot and walks promptly over to the Gryffindor table.

Harry turns to the others. "It's not my fault, I didn't decide this!"

Blaise wears just the amused grin that can be expected. "Hey, that's how girlfriends work. I'd say you've got some pleasing to do before things are back to normal again."

"You're kidding me, right?" Harry stares at Blaise. "You're suggesting that I should be the one apologizing for this? No way."

"With that attitude I don't understand how you've lasted this long." Blaise still grins at him.

Draco's smirk is joyless and his tone is a tiny bit bitter. "That's easy Blaise. At the end of the day, who doesn't want to date The Saviour of the Wizard Word?"

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry glares at him.

"If I were you I would watch my mouth." Ron takes a step closer to Draco. "Just because your reputation makes sure that no girl ever want to come close to you, it doesn't mean that you can pick on other people's situations."

"Is that so?" Draco arches a mocking eyebrow.

"You're such an ungrateful bastard!" Ron clenches his fists and takes another step closer.

"Ron." Harry puts a hand on his shoulder. "I know that it's tempting to punch him in the face, but remember what McGonagall said. She would be highly disappointed if we didn't even made it to breakfast." Without another word he pulls Ron with him towards the eighth-years' table.

"Brilliant." When the ex-Gryffindors are out of earshot Blaise turns to Draco. "You just can't stop provoking Potter, can you? We have to live with those two for a year, you do realize that?" He shakes his head in disgust. "Let's get some breakfast. I suggest you sit next to Pansy, she's far away and has been staring at you since we entered."

Draco would have sat down next to Pansy even if Blaise hadn't said something. There hadn't been time to talk since they had been on the train, and Draco needs to know where she stands. They had been friends through school, but at the beginning of last year they had developed a new kind of friendship, one that wasn't built on talk and laughter, but on understanding looks and small encouraging smiles. Both of them seemed to appreciate the other's company, and even if it was a lot of silence, they found some kind of safety there in the chaos around them. But now Draco is primarily a Malfoy in the eyes of the public. And being a Malfoy means that you are someone who both fought for the Dark side, and betrayed it. Placed in a situation where both sides hate you. He isn't the most popular choice as your friend for the beginning of your new life after the war.

He slips down on the bench next to Pansy. "Good morning."

"What was that about? Weasley looked really pissed." She looks at him with big, curious eyes.

Draco serves himself coffee and talks with an unaffected and slightly bored voice. "I thought I would make a statement and start the term by insulting The Chosen One."

Pansy's eyes grow even bigger. "You didn't!" She hits him on the arm and hisses at him. "You total idiot! Why would you do something like that?"

"Do I need a reason?" He lifts an eyebrow and smirks at her.

"Idiot. What happened to 'keep your head down'?"

Draco looks around them and finds that no one really find them interesting. His face then gets very tired and sighing he starts to tear a piece of bread to crumbs. "I don't know. I don't know why I did it, it just..."

"Sometimes I think you would be a happier man if I just sew your mouth shut."

"You don't understand." Draco makes a small pile of bread crumbs.

"Enlighten me." She crosses her arms and gives him a expectant look.

Draco pushes the crumbs from side to side, finally making a decision. "Not now. Later."

She looks surprised and lowers her voice. "You're telling me that you actually have a reason for your idiocy this time?"

"Later. If you're interested in listening." He looks up and meets her eyes. "If you're still interested in my friendship."

Pansy tilts her head to the side, observing him for some time before she nods. "I see. You're afraid I will leave now that your life has turned bad?"

Draco lifts his cup and looks down in the coffee. "I won't blame you, not in the slightest. I know my present place in society, and what it might do to people who associate with me." He flinches when a soft hand touches his cheek.

"Draco, I'm only going to say this once, so I suggest that you listen. Even more now then last year, we will both need someone to turn to. And I actually happen to like you."

Even more bread is torn to pieces and Draco gives her an odd glance.

"And eat something – destroying bread doesn't count as having breakfast."

oOo

After lunch Pansy and Draco are sitting on a bench out in a corner of the courtyard.

"So, do you want to tell me?" Pansy gives Draco a searching glance.

"I don't know. I think I might need to be a bit more calm and a lot less stressed from soon having another class." He rubs his face. "But maybe a part of it."

"I'm listening."

"You see, lots of stuff has happened has happened in the last two years. And I..." Draco sighs and looks at the sky for some time before turning back to Pansy. "And I really, really wish that Potter would like me."

"Um, then Draco, your behaviour this morning doesn't make sense. At all."

"I know!" He stands up and momentarily hides his face in his hands. "It's just... when he comes close I just can't stop myself. I don't know if I've done it too much through the years, if it's just a knee jerk reaction now." He looks pleadingly at Pansy. "And it wasn't bad today."

She looks doubting. "What did you say?"

"I kind of made fun of him for being The Saviour of the Wizard World..."

Pansy hides her face in her hands and groans, then looking up at him with a resigned face. "Draco, did you hit your head during the war? You used to be a clever guy, but that... coming from you that was just... If I were Potter I would have punched you in the face myself in that instant."

"Thank you, now I feel much better."

"Face it, if your goal is to get Potter to like you, then you made a complete idiot of yourself."

"Not helping, Pansy."

She sighs. "If I say that it actually could have been worse, does it feel better then?"

"Maybe," Draco mumbles and studies his thumb.

"I think you should apologize to him."

"What?" Draco chokes on his breath. "No, no, no, I can't do that." He pales and sits down on the bench again.

"It's not hard. Just walk up to him and say 'I'm sorry for making fun of you this morning'. Even you can do that." She nods encouragingly at him.

"No. I can't."

"Of course you can, don't be daft."

"Pansy, do you realize how much have to apologize to him for? Not to talk about what I have to thank him for." He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "And those things are still too hard to face just yet."

She gives him a calculating look. "I'm not saying you should do it all, not right now. But I think that an apology would be a thing that he appreciates since he is – was a fair and noble Gryffindor."

"How can I apologize for a stupid insult if I don't apologize for trying to use an Unforgivable on him?"

"You did what?" Pansy's eyes grow big. "But Draco, that was during the war, that forces people to do thing they wouldn't do otherwise. Hopefully that would have fallen under the war pardon too."

There's a choking sound that could have been a bitter laughter. "Pansy, it wasn't during the war. Well, technically it was war, but I was still supposed to be on his side back then. Our fight wasn't a part of the war, it was more a schoolboy fight getting out of hand."

"And you attempted an Unforgivable? Even you couldn't be that stupid."

"I was in a very pressed situation, and I-" Draco stops, biting his lip hard.

"I'm happy to hear you only said 'trying'. How bad would it have been if you had succeed?"

"I have never wanted to kill him, never. I just..." Draco slumps against the wall and for a second he looks pained and incredibly vulnerable. "I was in so much pain and I just had to share it or I would explode. It doesn't make sense, does it?"

"Nope." She pauses. "Well, maybe a little, in some strange way. But using those spells doesn't make sense in the first place, not if it isn't very special circumstances. And here I was, believing that you were intelligent." She shoots him a questioning glance. "So, why did you never cast it?

"I started to say it, but he was faster, and his spell effectively stopped me from casting anything more."

"What did he cast on you? It takes a lot to keep Draco quiet." She smiles tentatively.

"You visited me at the hospital wing after that. Spring in sixth year."

"Oh, it was then." Pansy tilts her head. "But honestly Draco, you weren't that badly hurt, you were looking perfectly normal when I was there."

"That was because you weren't in the bathroom when it happened."

"Well, how bad could it be? It is Harry Potter we're talking about here. I know what the rumours said, I started a lot of them myself, but we all know that Potter couldn't really have hurt you seriously."

"That shows what you know." Draco's face is grim. "Snape told me that if he hadn't passed by at the right time... I probably wouldn't have survived."

There's a choking sound from Pansy. "Potter actually almost killed you? He used the Dark Arts in an attempt to kill you? Is that why you want him to like you instead?"

"No. No, I just got what I deserved."

"You know what I think? I think it sounds like there's someone else here who needs to come with an apology. A big fat one. Or has he already apologized to you?" Pansy looks upset and slightly breathless.

"No, you got it wrong. He didn't attack me, he defended himself. He defended himself against an Unforgivable."

Pansy shakes her head. "He tried to kill you and it wasn't even an act of war. I didn't expect that from him, and it certainly doesn't make me less afraid of him."

"Afraid?" He stares at her with an amused flicker in his eyes. "Don't tell me you're afraid of Potter?"

"Well, if you've missed that he killed the Dark Lord, who by the way was ridiculously powerful, and I was the one stating in front of the whole school that I thought we should hand him over and let the Dark Lord win the war." Pansy glares at him. "I'm just waiting for him to come over and straighten things out, and I really don't want to be on the receiving end of his wand."

"Relax. As long as you don't thoroughly piss him off he's a sickeningly good guy." Draco smiles at her.

"I don't want to think about what he can do now, if he could do that in sixth year." Pansy shivers.

"Let's not talk about that fight any more, shall we?" He looks suddenly unaffected and calm. "I'm sure we can find better things to talk about."

"Yes. Like when you're going to apologize to Potter." Pansy gives him a stern look.

"It won't happen, I've told you." Draco presses his lips together.

She sighs. "Don't be difficult, I'm trying to help here. I know Potter's kind, an apology will impress on him. And if you should have any chance to get him to like you it's good to start out from a place where he isn't pissed at you in the first time."

"You make it sound so easy."

"It is easy. Just do it."

Draco looks away and stands up. "Let's go to class, we're going to be late."

oOo

Pansy and Draco is sitting in the common room that evening when she suddenly kicks his leg.

"What?" Draco frowns at her.

"Weasley just came down from your dormitory, and he and Potter went up together." She gives him a meaningful look.

"Yes? So?"

She sighs. "If they went up together and one came down it means that the other, in this case Potter, is still up there alone. Which is a wonderful opportunity if you want to talk to this someone about something, for example apologizing."

"Pansy..."

"Just go." Her look is so hard that even Draco flinches slightly. "Now."

Draco stands up and starts climbing the stairs to their dormitory, his inside screaming in panic. But Pansy is right, if he only can do this... he can do this. Yes, he can. He takes a deep breath and opens the door, just to find Harry amiably talking to Blaise. Fuck. Should he just turn and leave? He feels both the boys' eyes on him. Oh, screw Blaise!

"Potter, can I talk to you?"

"You already are, I think." Harry looks at him with suspicion.

"I wanted to say-" And his throat constricts and stops the words from coming out. What words? What was he saying anyway? He finds himself staring into Harry's eyes, and it's a strange mixture of pleasure and panic. Harry slowly arcs an eyebrow in an unspoken question, and Draco opens his mouth, just to close it again.

"Malfoy, did you want to say something or not?" There's irritation in Harry's voice now. Shit.

Draco draws a deep breath. "I'm sorry for making fun of you at breakfast." He tears his eyes away from Harry's and stares at the wall.

Harry looks at him in total surprise. "Who imperioed you?"

"I believe..." Blaise is laying on his back on his bed, propped up on his elbows. "...that what you were trying to say, Potter, was 'Thank you, Malfoy', or maybe 'No problem, Malfoy'."

"Never mind." Draco's words are just some more than a mumble. He turns and hastily leaves the room.

When he comes back to the common room Pansy are staring at him intently all the way back to the table.

"Well, what did he say?" Pansy leans toward him when he sits down.

Draco makes some circular patterns with his finger on the table. "Not much."

"He had to have said something?"

"Yeah." His face shows a hint of bitterness. "He wondered who had put me under the Imperius curse."

"That's all?" She looks at him in disbelief.

"After that Blaise started to talk about what Potter should have – "

"Blaise was there?"

He sighs, the bitterness more visible. "Yes, Blaise was there, and when he started lecturing Potter I thought it was time for me to go."

"But Draco, you should have..." Pansy trails off and looks at something over Draco's shoulder.

Draco turns around and finds an unreadable Harry standing just behind him.

"Malfoy." He runs a hand through his hair, looking quickly at Pansy and then back to Draco. "It's OK. Thanks. You probably didn't even knew what you said. But please don't make it to a habit." He turns, walks away and disappears up to the stairs to the dormitories.

Pansy looks at Draco and shrugs. "Well, it's a start."