Chapter 2

Reading Harry's letter, Draco's heart skipped a beat, but at the same time, he was quite confused. Draco was sure Harry had been upset when he has grabbed his hand, he had frozen, and looked shocked. And the blonde was sure he wasn't gay.
Throwing everything back into his bag, Draco rushed from the Great Hall, in no state to be facing Harry. All the while he was hurrying up to the privacy of his room, his mind was replaying the words in Harry's letter back to him, and their conversations earlier that day, in both his bedroom and on the Quidditch pitch. A continuous loop of memories that bombarded Draco with too many confusing, emotion-invoking thoughts.
And all of them contained Harry.
The mixed signals he was getting from the intriguing Gryffindor confused his already scrambled thoughts even more.
Draco had been really tempted to agree to Harry's offer. He wanted so badly to go, to see where it took them. But, as much as he hated admitting it to himself, Draco was scared.
Scared of what might happen. Of how Harry would react. And, most of all, of being rejected.
If there was one thing Draco was sure of, it was that, with the massive downward spiral his life had taken in the last few years, he couldn't take Harry rejecting him. He would rather live out the rest of his miserable life thinking that Harry hated him. Only now, because he'd let those bloody big green eyes affect him, he couldn't. Now all Draco could think about was the many "what ifs", and, if the blonde was being honest to himself, it was driving him crazy.
Draco's mind was working overtime, and he could feel a headache approaching.
Finally reaching the sanctity of his bedroom, Draco flopped down gracelessly onto his neatly made bed, letting out a sigh.
His spotless room was a big contrast to the major mess his life had become. Draco had become slightly OCD in the last few years. Ever since he became a Death Eater and chosen to kill Dumbledore, his life had gone drastically downhill. Draco had always thought he'd had a privileged life, and, in many ways, he had. The Malfoy's had always been financially well-off, and, being an only child, Draco was almost never denied any material item that he could ever want or need. The Malfoy name itself also held its own power - or at least it did, until Voldemort's downfall.
It wasn't the lack of material possession or power, however, that had left Draco feeling so empty and discontent all these years. It was the lack of love and support from his parents, and the rest of his family.
While both families had always been well-off, neither the Malfoy's nor the Blacks were known for being very loving and caring people. Lucius Malfoy was far from the paternal type, berating and punishing Draco far more often than giving him praise. Narcissa, while caring for Draco more than his father, didn't have motherly bone in her body. He was basically raised by the house elves. The most motherly and fatherly concern his parents had ever shown was in front of Voldemort, trying to persuade Draco to join them.
It was the things that had been missing all his life that he yearned for, from both his parents, and now Harry; comfort, safety, /love/.
The last thought hit Draco hard.
Did he love Harry? The blonde was sure he liked him, but love?
Draco groaned, burying his head in his hands, wishing he could shut out his thoughts. He needed something, anything, to make them stop.
An idea popped into his head, and he scrambled off the bed and headed to his cupboard, pulling out the small trunk that lay hidden at the bottom. Draco unlocked the intricately carved box and pulled the lid open, immediately spotting what he wanted. Laying there, amongst some of his most treasured possessions, was a full bottle of Firewhisky he had nicked from his father over the summer. While old enough to buy his own, and surprisingly still wealthy enough, it was more convenient to just take the seemingly endless bottles of alcohol that the Malfoy's owned.
Grabbing the bottle out, Draco shut the lid and re-locked the trunk before loving over to this bed. Searching around in the drawers beside his bed, he found an old, broken quill, which he promptly transfigured into a small shot glass.
Pouring himself a shot, he tossed it back, not even grimacing at the taste. Draco had consumed his fair share of alcohol over the summer, trying to drown out the memories of the war and the years before. It never worked - at least not for more than a few hours. But the blonde kept drinking, suffering though hangovers (which even with a Pepper Up potion - the only thing the Malfoy's had that could help a hangover - were still bad) just for those few hours where he didn't have to think about every time in his life where he'd screwed up.
Taking shot after shot, Draco had downed half the bottle in under twenty minutes, and was feeling lightheaded.
Sitting the shot glass on the bedside table with the now half-empty bottle, Draco laid back on his bed, arms folded behind his head, enjoying the feeling of weightlessness, and the way the alcohol had scrambled his brain, not allowing a full, coherent thought to pass though his head.
Knowing full well he had classes the next morning, Draco drowned out the sensible part of his brain telling him to have some water, sober up a bit, and go to bed, and poured himself another shot.
Soon, the empty Firewhisky bottle lay on the floor, and Draco was left sitting on the end of his bed, looking blankly into the shot glass, which contained the last of the amber liquid.
The last rays of the setting sun filtered through the window, making the Firewhisky in Draco's glass light up, almost glow. He stared down into it, awed.
"So pretty." He murmured. Swirling it around a few times, he watched the light being refracted from every angle, both off the Firewhisky and the shot glass itself.
Clouds rolled over the sun, blocking what little light was left for the evening. The sunlight faded, making the Firewhisky look normal again, and Draco snapped out his trance. Looking quizzically at his glass, he shook his head and downed the shot.
Standing up, he walked over to the window, sitting the shot glass on the bedside table. Draco rested his arms against the window sill, laid out so from his wrist to his elbow were touching the polished wood. His hands were curled loosely, the side of his thumbs and his fingernails were the only part of the blondes long pale hands touching the window sill.
A loud sigh left his lips as he stared into the sunset, which was almost completely gone. Draco stood there, staring at the reflections of the surrounding grounds in the glassy water of the Black Lake until the sun set.
It wasn't until darkness had completely enveloped everything in his sight that Draco shut the window and flopped gracelessly down onto his bed. Not even caring he was still in his school clothes or laying on top of the covers, Draco fell into a deep sleep, the Firewhisky making his dreams so fuzzy he couldn't remember a single one.

* -o- * -o- *

Reading over Draco's letter once more, Harry looked up again, and his eyes fell on Draco's empty seat.
The Great Hall was packed, and people were happily chatting away about classes, Quiddich, who they fancied, detention, and the professors. Harry caught snippets of conversations from the Gryffindor's around him, and even some from a few loud Ravenclaw's on the table behind him.
Harry ignored all of them, even the people in his year trying to make conversation with him, in favour of playing with his food and stewing in his own thoughts.
It wasn't until Hermione, sick of Harry ignoring her, smacked him up the back of the head did he pay attention.
"Merlin Hermione! Was that really necessary?" Harry growled, rubbing the back of his head. He quickly shoved Draco's letter in his pocket, and Hermione noticed.
"Well if you payed less attention to that letter and more to your friends then no, it wouldn't be. But as of right now, you've been staring at that letter all of dinner and not listened to a single word I've been trying to tell you!"
Ron, who was sitting on the other side of Hermione, looked around her at Harry.
"Who is that from anyway mate? A girl you like?" Harry blushed, and Ron sent him a knowing grin. "I knew it! Why else would you read it over and over all of dinner. You haven't even touched your food."
Noticing he was right, Harry began to eat his dinner, ignoring the rest of the questions about who this mystery girl was.
Finishing quickly, he hurried out of the Great Hall, pretending he didn't her Hermione calling after him.
He felt a familiar stare from the teachers table boring into his back, but he refused to look back, knowing exactly what the professor wanted. Harry was sure he would get a visit from the older man later that night, or he would see him in class the next day.
Half way to the Gryffindor common room a thought struck him, one that he wished hadn't of.
Did he like Draco?
He was intrigued by the blonde, sure. And found himself wanting to spend more time with him, despite the little voice in his head telling him it was a bad idea.
Shaking off the though, Harry suddenly changed directions, heading towards the kitchen. Harry had barely eaten any of his dinner, and only just realised how hungry he was.
Coming to a stop by a painting of fruit, he ticked the pear, a handle appearing. Twisting it, he ducked quickly into the kitchens, pulling the door shut behind him.
Stepping around the dozens of house elves, he made his way to the far corner, where a small table and four chairs was set up. Sitting on one of the chairs, he dropped his bag at his feet, resting his hands on the cracked wood.
Looking down, he traced a finger over the words carved into the middle of the table.
The two sets of engravings, one lot much older then the other, made Harry both want to smile and cry.

'The Marauders - Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs'

'Gred & Forge'

Tears pricked at his eyes as he remember Fred's funeral, and he let his head fall, hitting his arms. Harry's shoulders began to shake slightly, but any noise he may have made was muffled by his arm.
His quiet sobs were interrupted a few minutes later by a soft, squeaky voice and a light tugging at his robes.
"Mister Potter? Can Winky get Mister Potter anything?" The house elf asked politely.
Harry looked up, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes. Smiling down at the tiny house elf, he was reminded of Dobby, and another jab of pain and sorrow hit his heart. Winky was one of Dobby's friends too, Harry remembered, but she looked better then she had before. Maybe being here at Hogwarts and having something to do gave her a purpose again.
"Just something small to eat please Winky. I didn't have much at dinner. And something to drink?" Harry said with a weak smile.
"Of course Mister Potter!" Winky said happily, rushing off to get his food. She was back only minutes later, and by that time Harry had composed himself, and taken out his Transfiguration homework, needing something to take his mind off both Draco and the deaths of the war.
Sitting a plate and a goblet in front of him, Winky gave a quick bow and hurried away before Harry could say anything else. Soon enough though, the smell of the half a dozen fresh baked pumpkin pasties siting in front of him made his stomach growl, and he dug in.
That's how Harry spent the next two hours; a pumpkin pastie in his left hand and a quill in his right, doing first his Transfiguration homework, then Charms, while the elves worked happily around him. As soon as his plate or goblet of butterbeer was empty, Winky would rush over and ask if Harry wanted any more, so he was never hungry or thirsty.
After packing his Charms work in his bag, Harry realised he had been gone for hours, and Ron and Hermione were probably wondering where he was.
Harry gathered his stuff, and hurried back to Gryffindor tower not seeing a single person on the way. The common room was about half full with students, doing homework or playing chess or exploding snap or reading a book.
Hermione and Neville were at a table nearest the fire, doing their homework, each occasionally asking a question. Ron was playing wizards chess with Seamus - judging by the Irish boys profanities, Ron was winning. Dean and Ginny were both sprawled out on one of the rugs near Hermione's feet, closer to the fire, talking. The book Ginny had obviously been reading was closed beside her, forgotten.
None of them paid any attention to Harry as he made his way silently through the common room, and up the stairs to his dorm.
Harry flopped gracelessly down onto his bed, pulling the scarlet curtains around him as he thought of everything that had happened since the war ended. Going over everyone he knew and marvelling at how things had turned out.
Harry now lived at Black Manor with Sirius, Remus and Teddy. Sirius had been cleared of all crimes after the war when the truth about what happened between him and Peter Pettigrew came out, and had filled the Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher position at Hogwarts, much to the dismay of many people. Sirius, however, was overjoyed, and once people started attending his classes, they got over the prejudice they once held against him. This was due to the fact his classes were more fun then even Lupin's had been, and all the students soon began to enjoy them.
After losing Tonks during the war, Remus had become withdrawn and racked with depression, but Harry and Sirius had helped him pull out of it, making him focus on the fact he had a son to take care of. He stayed at home most days, looking after Teddy. Both Harry and Sirius had been made Teddy's godfathers, and they both took that responsibility more seriously then most.
Minerva McGonagall was made Headmistress of Hogwarts, despite her arguments that she wasn't fit for the job. Though she preferred to teach Transfiguration, which she continued to do, she finally accepted the Headmasters position, knowing someone had to take over if the school was to recover to even half it's former glory. It was her that had hired Sirius. McGonagall had originally asked Remus if he wanted his old position as DADA professor back, but he kindly declined, saying he couldn't possibly raise Teddy and teach at the same time. Sirius, who was present at the time of the visit, asked if he could take the position instead, as he was unemployed and, even though he had been cleared, no one would trust him enough to give him a chance. Minerva had given him a genuine, heartwarming smile and promptly hired him, thinking the school could use some of the friendly chaos the Marauders specialised in. Sirius also took some of McGonagall's Transfiguration classes when her duties as Headmaster left her unable to teach, the strict witch always jokingly threatening to make his animagus form permanent if he disrupted her class and made them unruly and hyper for when she returned.
Professor Slughorn had come back upon McGonagall's request, and now taught Potions again. After all the death the war caused, especially that of Severus Snape, McGonagall was weary to let any new people into the school to teach, trusting only those that she knew. Slughorn had agreed to stay, but only until she had found him a suitable replacement.
Professor Kettleburn flat out refused to come back and teach, so Hagrid returned to his position as Care of Magical Creatures teacher, as well as doing his ground keeping duties. He was happy to be teaching again, but the war had left him with a lingering sadness, as it had everyone. Hagrid still mourned the loss of his half-brother, Grawp, but was improving daily.
Professor Flitwick still taught Charms, and had now set up a proper duel club - one much more effective then the one Lockhart had attempted to set up - for fifth years and up. Often enlisting he help of Sirius and Minerva, Flitwick taught them proper duelling techniques, handy spells and counter curses. During these classes he also showed the students the effects of certain curses that could be used in battle, and also of the spells that they should never use. Any student of age could also ask to be taught methods of escaping magically sealed rooms, the use/escape of magical bonds, and how to conjure and control wandless magic.
Although McGonagall had tried hard to get Hogwarts back to how it was before, she knew that the castle would never be fully returned to it's former glory. There was always the air of death and destruction that lingered in ever crack and crevice that nothing could get rid of. McGonagall, however, never gave up.
Harry and Ginny had broken up just before the school year started again. Fred's death had taken it's toll her, Ron, and the whole Weasley family. Harry had been hit hard as well, the Weasley's being the only people besides Sirius he had ever thought of as family. Harry still visited the Burrow and the rest of the Weasley's as regularly as he could, often bringing Remus, Sirius and Teddy with him.
Ron and Hermione had, surprisingly, managed to stay together. Hermione had moved into the Burrow, not yet ready to face her parents again. Even now, almost a year after the war had ended, she was still torn between needing her parents back, and not wanting to drag them into her life, and into danger again.
George and Angelina Johnson had turned to each other for comfort after Fred's death, and had somehow ended up together. George felt a bit guilty at first, but they both soon realised Fred would have wanted them to be happy.
Percy proposed to Penelope Clearwater mere months after the war had ended, the death of his brother making him realise a lot of things; one of those being how much he loved her, and that he would do anything to be able to spend the rest of his life with her. Percy quit his job at the Ministry, and they had started up a pet shop in Diagon Alley, right next door to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Students were now allowed to bring any familiar of their choice to Hogwarts, so their business soon boomed as the students began to return to school.
Bill and Fleur stayed in Shell Cottage, and Fleur had announced her pregnancy just before the trio went back to school.
Neville and Luna got together soon after the war. Neville wanted to return to school, but Luna wanted to travel. They had agreed to go their separate ways, both willing to try a long distance relationship so as to not hold the other back, when, a week before she was due to leave on her trip, Luna found out she was pregnant with twins. She chose to stay home and write for the Quibbler and wait for her twins arrival while Neville went back to school. Neville was now training to be the new Herbology teacher in between talking his classes. Professor Sprout was retiring as soon as Neville finished his last year and felt confident enough to take over her position. When she did, Professor Septima Vector, the Arithmacy teacher, was to take over her position as Hufflepuff's Head of House. Professor Vector was uncertain at first about teaching again, but McGonagall convinced her to come back, and eventually accept the Head of House position when Professor Sprout retired.
Harry let out a sigh, letting his eyes close and this thoughts wander. A lot of people had pulled themselves together after the war and done well for themselves, despite losing loved ones. Others hadn't been so lucky, and there had been a lot of regretful suicides over the year since the war had passed, witches and wizards either distraught with the loss of losing a loved one, paranoid because of the war, or simply couldn't take living in a world where nothing was certain anymore.
Hearing footsteps on the stairs, Harry groaned and rolled over, burying his head in his pillow. He didn't feel like talking to anyone at the moment.
The door to the dorm room opened, closed, and then locked. The sound of the lock clicking shut out Harry on guard, and he pulled his wand out of his pocket, ready. He felt the mans magical aura just as Sirius poked his head through Harry's curtains. Harry let out a sigh of relief, and lowered his wand. Sirius looked proud, not even caring that just moments before had a wand pointed between his eyes.
"Good to see you're keeping your guard up Harry," Sirius commented with a wolffish grin, pulling his whole body through the curtains and plonking himself down on Harry's bed.
"After what I've been through Sirius, it never comes down." Harry sighed, sitting back down and making himself comfortable again.
"I know Harry." Sirius sighed. He got himself comfortable as well, and the two fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Sirius spoke again. "I know who that letter was from Harry. You really should learn to look over at the teachers table as well," Sirius smirked.
Harry went a little pale, then blushed and put his head down. Sirius put a hand under his chin and forced Harry to look at him, his green eyes betraying every emotion he was feeling.
"Do you like him Harry?" Sirius asked, all joking gone from his tone.
"I.. I don't know." Harry replied honestly. "I think.. I think I do. But it's different, you know? Like.. I didn't feel like this way about Cho, or when I was with Ginny. It's different." Harry's voice slowly got softer as he spoke, and by the time he finished it was barely a whisper.
"I know. I think he really likes you. I saw the way he looks at you." Sirius said, and the seriousness in his voice made Harry's chest tighten in a weird way. "I never would have thought Draco Malfoy of all people would fall for a Gryffindor. And another boy." Sirius shook his head, a somewhat amused smile playing on his lips.
"What about me?"
"Of course I'm not surprised he fell for you!" Sirius said, giving Harry a strange look.
"I am." Harry mumbled, too low for a normal person to hear. But Sirius' canine hearing allowed him to pick it up, and he cocked his head to the side, much like he would in his animagus form.
"Why?" Sirius asked.
"I-"
Footsteps coming loudly up the staircase to the dorm cut off Harry's reply, and he pulled out his wand and pointed it through his curtains at the door. The last thing Harry needed was rumours going around about why he was locked in his room with a professor.
"Aloharmoa!" He whispered. Throwing the curtains back so both him and Sirius were in full view of anyone entering the room.
The door unlocked just as Ron turned the handle, but he wasn't paying attention to anything in front of him, instead was looking over his shoulder at Seamus, the two discussing their chess game.
Seamus saw Sirius first, and the man was giving Harry a quizzical look.
"P-professor Black?!" He spluttered. "What are you doing up here?"
"Seamus, isn't it?" Sirius said, switching to professor mode as he stood up and over Seamus, who gulped.
"Yes s-sir."
"What right do you have to question a professor?" He asked lowly, a creepy canine-like smile on his face.
Seamus looked like he was ready to shit himself, and Ron, who had seen Sirius' crazed side, was barely containing his laughter. Harry rolled his eyes at his godfather and best friend.
"Sirius, leave him alone." Harry said, coming to the Irish boys rescue. Seamus looked shocked Harry had just called a teacher by his first name.
Sirius turned to Harry, that same twisted smile on his face, only Harry wasn't scared. He laughed. His first genuine laugh that day. Seamus looked at him like he was about to be killed.
"You ruin my fun." Sirius actually pouted like a child, and Ron's laughter finally burst free, seeing the look on Sirius' face.
Neville, who had stayed quiet the entire time, was the only one besides Harry and Ron who knew that Sirius was in face Harry's godfather. He had noticed right away what was going on - the two were trying to have a private chat. Sirius was really the only father figure Harry had.
Seamus still looked confused, but less scared now that the two boys were laughing and Sirius was acting like a child - a very disturbed child, but a child none the less.
"I was just trying to have a chat with Harry here. It that a problem, Finnigan?" Sirius asked, suddenly turning back to Seamus, all trace of laugher carefully concealed.
Seamus' eyes widened, and he managed to splutter out a reply. "N-no sir, of c-course not!"
"Very good! See you all in class tomorrow morning boys!" Sirius said, suddenly cheerful. He turned to wink at Harry, before walking out the door, robes billowing behind him, almost like Snape's used to.
Ron was now rolling on the floor with tears in his eyes, and Neville was still quiet, but he was obviously not doing anything to conceal his smile at Sirius antics. He didn't know him like the trio did, but after Neville had opened up to Harry about his parents, Harry had opened up to him about Sirius and Lupin, and he knew almost everything.
Seamus and Dean, who was apparently still downstairs, were the only two who didn't know about Harry and Sirius' relationship.
"What the bloody hell was that?" Seamus practically yelled once Sirius was out of earshot. Well, normal human earshot. The professor was currently standing at the bottom of the stairs listening to every word, sharing an amused smile with Hermione, who had heard the whole Seamus/Sirius dilemma from the almost empty common room.
Neville spoke for the first time since entering the dorm room, and he spoke directly to Harry.
"Were you guys finished talking, or did we interrupt?"
Harry gave Neville a small smile.
"Not quite. But, to be honest, I'm grateful for the interruption. We'll finish talking tomorrow anyway. No big deal."
Neville smiled and gave him a knowing nod before walking over to his own bed and disappearing behind his curtains. Ron looked over at Harry, giving him a meaningful look, before looking at Seamus, then back at Harry.
The brunette knew exactly what his best friend was implying. Seamus, however, was clueless, and getting angry about being left out of the loop.
"Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" Seamus demanded, sitting on his closed trunk at the end of his bed, looking first at Harry, then at Ron.
"Siri- Professor Black is my godfather." Harry said finally. He wasn't sure whether to tell the Irish boy or not; he had a habit of jumping to conclusions. And the very one Harry hoped he wouldn't jump to, was he first one he thought of.
"Ahh, so that's how he got a job here! Bet you swung it so he could, didn't ya Harry?" Seamus accused.
Ron saw anger flash in Harry's green eyes, and reached over, grabbing his wand arm. Harry's right hand was clutched tight around his wand, and Ron could tell he was about to hex Seamus.
"Don't you dare imply that I was the only reason Sirius got his job here Seamus," Harry spat. "If you must know, Sirius asked McGonagall for this job. Even with his record gone, no one else trusted him enough to give him a job. But she did. You have a problem with Sirius teaching? Go and see McGonagall!"
By now Harry was fuming with anger. He yanked his arm out of Ron's grip and stormed downstairs, through the common room and out the portrait hole. The only things he had on him were his wand, and the Marauders Map, tucked safely into his pocket.
Harry pulled into a small alcove just outside Gryffindor Tower, and pulled out the Map, quickly locating Sirius.
It was his night off rounds, so the man was in his room, pacing. Harry made his way to the corridor which held the Gryffindor teachers rooms, and knocked on his godfathers door. Sirius opened it, wearing his nightclothes, his hair tussled.
"Harry? What's wrong?" Sirius asked, noting his livid expression. Moving aside, he let Harry come into his room.
"Seamus." Harry spat, moving to sit on a couch by the fire.
"What about Seamus?" Sirius asked, moving to sit on the chair opposite him. Seeing he wasn't going to get an answer any time soon, Sirius sat back and got comfortable, letting Harry settle down.
Harry was still quite angry, and decided to calm himself down before answering by looking around. He had never been into Sirius' quarters before, and he noticed it was quite big.
The door opened up into a small living room, which had one long couch and two single arm chairs arranged around a small coffee table near a roaring fire. A small kitchenette was too the left, with a plain wooden door a few feet away. On the other side, Harry could see into Sirius' bedroom thorough the open door, and beside it was another closed door.
'One of those has to be a bathroom,' Harry though absently.
"Harry?" Sirius asked lightly.
Harry felt a wave of exhaustion roll over him, and his shoulders slumped. Sirius must have seen it, because he stood up and moved over to Harry, helping him up.
"Come on, into bed. You can stay here tonight and tell me about it in the morning." Sirius led Harry to the door beside his bedroom. It opened up into a smaller room, with a single bed, bedside table, and tiny closet. Harry turned to look at Sirius as he moved over to the bed.
"I figured you might want to get away from Gryffindor tower sometimes. God knows I used to. I asked Minerva to put a room in here for you in case you ever needed it." Sirius answered Harry's questioning look.
"Thank you." Harry have Sirius a grateful look, happy he wouldn't have to sleep on the couch like he was planning too.
Sirius have Harry a small smile. "There's nightclothes and clean school robes in the cupboard. If you need anything else just ask. Night Harry." Sirius gave Harry a quick hug before stepping out, shutting the door behind him.
Harry quickly got changed, and lay down in his bed. The room was deathly quiet, something that Harry wasn't used to, and it made him slightly uneasy.
To try and take his mind off it, Harry pulled the Marauders Map out of his pocket, seeing where everyone was.
Ron, Neville and Seamus were in the dorm room. Ginny and Dean were still in the common room. Hermione had gone up to her room for the night. Madam Pince was in the restricted section of the library. McGonagall was in the Headmasters office, sat at her desk. Filch was on the fourth floor, Mrs Norris walking loyally by his side. Draco was in his room, standing by what Harry remembered to be his window.
Harry's gaze stopped and lingered on Draco's name. He watched Draco's name on the map, just standing at the window. It moved, after some time, to the middle of the room.
'He's sitting on the end of his bed' Harry thought. Draco's name moved again, and this time was the last.
As Draco finally passed out, Harry succumbed to sleep, the blondes name the last thing he saw before being enveloped in blackness.

* -o- * -o- *

A/N: Professor Vector's Hogwarts house was never mentioned (I don't think. Please feel free to correct me if I'm wrong) and I couldn't think of another teacher that was in Hufflepuff, so I made her a Hufflepuff.
Also, this chapter ended up going in a completely different direction to what I had originally planned, so I'm not that happy with it :/ I'm sorry there's not more Drarry action. It's more of a filler chapter to be honest. But I hope you liked it anyway! Please tell me what you think so far!
~PP