During the following weeks, Hermione's words played over and over in Harry's mind, much to his annoyance. He hated doubting himself, especially when he was questioning a belief that he'd clung to for years. Loathing Draco Malfoy was just the natural order of things, like the sun rising in the east, the sky being blue, and the grass being green. He never gave a second thought as to why Malfoy was still his enemy, even after their days at Hogwarts were over and they were now leading even more separate lives.
His plans to invade Malfoy's residence with Ron were scrapped, needless to say. Ron wanted nothing to do with Malfoy, not even to prove Hermione wrong. It was highly unusual, since normally he would jump at the chance to do just that because Hermione being wrong about something was such a rare occurrence. Instead, he had been in a right foul mood since finding out she went behind their backs to meet with Malfoy and it was a testament to their friendship (and his patience) that Harry could endure Ron's constant scowling and grumbling. Harry didn't dare get in the middle of their argument, even though Hermione, looking absolutely dismal, asked him almost daily if Ron had changed his mind about giving her the silent treatment. As much as he wanted to put them out of their misery (and himself too, since splitting his time between them was far too reminiscent of their school days), he knew better than to get involved in their relationship.
"The only enemy we had was Voldemort and he is long gone. But as long as there is hate and animosity in this world, he might as well still be here." Bloody hell, why must Hermione always make sense? In the span of one conversation, she caused him to re-evaluate his attitude. Why exactly did he continue to hate Malfoy? Was it simply because old habits refused to die? Was he clinging stubbornly to a childhood grudge? The questions plagued him and made him restless.
Hoping for answers, Harry began to do a little research. After looking through years of old issues of The Daily Prophet, he noticed that while Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's names continued to sporadically appear in the publication, their son's name was conspicuously absent. Again Harry thought that his rival was biding his time before he made his move, but the more he thought about it, the sillier the theory sounded. What could Malfoy possibly have up his sleeve that would take years to execute? What would he gain from exacting revenge? The Malfoys were now social outcasts, going from being a respected and feared family to a topic for ridicule; undoubtedly they were being served some much-needed humility. Was that enough motivation for Draco Malfoy to spend years scheming and plotting until the perfect time came to carry out the plan? Harry was no longer convinced that it was.
It was one thing to give Malfoy the benefit of the doubt; however, it was another matter entirely to trust him, especially when hours of research led to no real conclusions about his family. If there was even the slightest chance that Draco Malfoy was now a reformed young man, why would he invite his childhood enemies to his home when his parents clearly loathed the three of them?
While Harry wouldn't take his word for it, he could at least believe Hermione when she says that the event at Malfoy Manor was simply a party and not a trap waiting to be sprung. Having arrived very reluctantly at this conclusion, Harry was now getting ready for the event. Besides, his curiosity was too great and he knew he wouldn't be satisfied with simply staying at home.
"Well, Kreacher, what do you think?" He held up two ties, one red and the other green. "Which one?"
The house-elf merely gave him a blank stare. "Kreacher doesn't know of such matters, sir."
"Of course you don't. I think we are both out of our element here." He chose one at random and began to knot the green tie around his neck. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered at his reflection in the mirror. "Hermione better be right." A few minutes later Harry put on his coat over his dress robes and, after checking the address on the invitation again, Disapparated to his destination.
Upon arriving, he was surprised to discover that he wasn't at Malfoy Manor. The new dwelling was still large, but it was a house rather than a giant estate. Perhaps the family was forced to downsize after all these years, getting rid of most signs of extravagance and status. Did Lucius Malfoy even have a job nowadays? He tried to recall if he'd come across such information during his research.
"He lives alone."
Hermione's voice jolted Harry out of his thoughts. He'd been too busy staring at the house to notice she was there. "Blimey, Hermione!"
"Sorry. I got here only a few minutes ago. I thought I'd wait to see if you'd arrive."
"I'm here because I want you to believe it when I tell you that I trust you."
She reached over and squeezed his hand. "I appreciate that, Harry."
"This still doesn't feel right to me."
"It'll be fine. Is Ron going to be here?" Hermione asked hopefully.
"Hermione, I..." Truthfully, Harry had no idea what Ron was going to do, but it was safe to say that he probably wouldn't attend, given his reaction upon discovering Hermione's deception. But Harry couldn't bear to dishearten her, especially not at this time of year. "Look, he didn't exactly say that wasn't going to come." That was the best he could do without lying to her.
"That's nice of you to put it that way." The fleeting smile she gave him was strained. "Honestly, I don't know why you two underestimate me. I ought to be insulted. Do you really think that I would blindly trust Draco Malfoy after everything he's done to us? When he reached out to me through the owl post, I didn't rush to do his bidding, I'll have you know!"
"Um-"
"After years of knowing me and being your best friend, did you actually believe that I wouldn't put in the time to do a bit of research before deciding whether I should meet with him or not?"
"I-"
"Well, I did, Harry Potter! And it wasn't until I learned that Draco had practically cut ties with his parents that I made up my mind to see him, in a public place, no less, to insure that he wouldn't dare to do anything to me. As if he could," she added animatedly, jabbing her finger into Harry's chest as if to drive her point home. "I'd love to see him try!"
It would seem that he was the unfortunate recipient of a tirade that was most likely supposed to be directed at Ron. His best friend was going to owe him one after Harry had just taken a bullet for him, figuratively speaking. "All right! I'm sorry. But put the shoe on the other foot, Hermione. I care about you a lot. You're one of the most important people in my life. I know you're more than capable of taking care of yourself, but I can't help but feel protective and defensive when you hid the fact that you helped Malfoy plan this whole thing, not to mention that you met with him alone." He paused before adding, "I imagine it's the same for Ron, except magnified by about a million."
Hermione's rebuttal was at the tip of her tongue but it went unsaid as his words sank in and she realized that he was right. "I don't know how to explain it, but there's something different about Malfoy that made me decide to help him. I may have researched his family before giving him my answer, but if I were to be truly honest with myself, I think I would have listened to what he had to say regardless of what I found, regardless of our past. I knew you and Ron wouldn't understand, so I didn't say anything. I'm sorry for that, but not for my choice. I wanted to give him a chance, Harry. And it looks like you want to do that too, since you're here."
They both lapsed into silence as they continued to hang around on the grounds, neither one wanting to suggest they go inside to join the party, not without Ron with them. They both knew that doing so would damage their friendship, perhaps irreparably.
Suddenly they heard a faint popping noise and Luna appeared before them. "Oh, hello," she greeted in her usual dreamy tone.
"Luna!" Harry and Hermione exclaimed in unison. "You're invited too?" Hermione added. When Harry gave her a quizzical look, she elaborated, "I didn't know who was on the guest list, other than you, me, and Ron. If you weren't convinced before, then this should show you that he's not setting up a trap for us!"
"Naturally," Luna replied to Hermione's earlier question, as if receiving an invitation from Draco Malfoy was a regular occurrence. "I wouldn't miss a holiday party." She looked behind them at Malfoy's house; it didn't escape her notice that she hadn't Apparated to the manor where she had once been held hostage. "Hmm. I wonder if it looks nice on the inside, too. I love Christmastime, don't you?" she asked them in a quick change of topics. "Except for the Nargles, of course. Remember to be careful when you're under the mistletoe."
"Er, right," Harry replied. He didn't know which was more absurd, the thought of Malfoy hanging mistletoe in his house or the Lovegoods' continued belief in a creature that many people are convinced is imaginary. "Thanks for the tip, Luna."
She smiled serenely. "You're quite welcome." She looked at Hermione. "He'll be here, you'll see."
"You...but how do you know? You've talked to Ron?" Hermione demanded.
Before Luna could respond, they heard the popping noise again and as she predicted, Ron appeared, looking tense and slightly uncomfortable.
"I'll see you all inside." She gave Ron an encouraging smile and a pat on the shoulder before prancing away.
Harry grinned, feeling much better about being there now that the three of them were together. "You made it."
"Yeah, well...so did you." He looked at Hermione. "Hi." At the moment all she could manage was a shaky smile, for her relief at his presence was so great that it overcame her.
"What do you have there?" Harry gestured at the bottle Ron was holding.
"Just some firewhiskey." His eyes never left Hermione's as he said, "You told me before about a Muggle custom when guests bring food or drinks to a party as a gift. I figured it was the least I could do after Malfoy invited me to his house." He shrugged. "Besides, if he insults you or says anything bad about house-elves, I can always hit him with it."
Hermione burst into laughter as she threw her arms around him. "Ron, when I said Malfoy reminded me of you, I didn't mean-I only meant that I could see the good in him and...I'm so sorry for-"
"It's Christmas, Hermione. I know we have a lot to talk about, but right now I just don't want to fight anymore," he said as he held her tightly. "I've missed you." Her head was resting on his shoulder and he felt her nodding in agreement.
"Right, well, now that everything is settled, we should probably go in," Harry said. His earlier curiosity had now given way to tension. It was hard to shake off the uneasy feeling that he always associated with Malfoy, even though he now knew that the party wasn't an elaborate ruse.
He and Ron followed Hermione down the stone path that led to an ornate front entrance. From behind the closed doors, they could hear music playing faintly. Stepping inside, they saw that the entranceway was decorated with lights and wreaths, while festive candles shed a glowing path to a large room filled with former Hogwarts students milling about and chattering amongst each other. There was a massive table laden with food and another table of equal size next to it with sparkling goblets and a variety of drinks. The Weird Sisters were performing on a stage set up in the front of the room.
"Draco has outdone himself," Hermione remarked. The party, by all appearances, looked like a success.
"He actually got the Weird Sisters," Ron said, reluctantly impressed.
"I can't believe it," Harry said over the noise. "Everyone is here! Look, there's Dean and Seamus, and the Patil twins-"
"And Susan Bones, Terry Boot..." Hermione added as she craned her neck to look around.
"There's Cho, Harry," Ron pointed out, smirking.
Harry's mind briefly flashed back to his horrible Valentine's Day date with Cho and he quickly suppressed a shudder. "I see she's still friends with Marietta."
"Oh, look! It's Neville with Hannah Abbott. Don't they look happy together?" Hermione sigh was filled with satisfaction as she gazed adoringly at them.
"Leave it to Luna to go up to the Slytherins first," Ron said in an affectionate tone. Sure enough, Luna was gesturing animatedly as she spoke to a group who had segregated themselves from the rest of the party. Harry noticed the mistletoe hanging above the gang of Slytherins and predicted that Luna was once again on the topic of Nargles. Based on the puzzled looks on the other students' faces, his assumption was most likely correct.
Harry was astonished that his former schoolmates were actually here, even as the evidence stared him straight in the face. He scanned the room in search of their host, but could find no sign of the pale-haired young man who had taunted him so much during their school days. He continued to observe the other guests and noticed that they were all having a good time. Were they all convinced that Malfoy had turned a new leaf? Had they really forgiven him for everything he's done to them? Did time really heal all wounds? They seemed to be here in the true spirit of Christmas, without holding any grudges. Perhaps it was also time for him to adopt the same attitude. He needed to find Malfoy and clear the air once and for all.
Harry started to ask Ron to go with him, but when he saw him and Hermione having what appeared to be an intimate and earnest conversation, he decided against it. They were looking at each other as if they were the only people in the room. A herd of Hippogriffs probably couldn't drag them apart. Leaving the two of them alone to patch things up, he ventured off, spotting a pair of glass doors that led to a courtyard. Getting there was a struggle, for he was stopped every few feet by friends and people he knew, offering holiday greetings and making small conversation. It felt like an eternity, but he finally made it outside.
His eyes were immediately drawn to a white peacock wandering the grounds, gracefully dipping its neck to peck at the cold ground. Harry cautiously approached it and shook his head. "Leave it to Malfoy to own such a pretentious animal."
"These birds are probably the only pleasurable part of my childhood."
Harry whipped around at the sound of Malfoy's voice. He was standing just a few feet away, holding what looked to be a bag of bread crumbs. There were two more birds behind him, feeding on the bits of bread. The sight of him evoked old feelings of resentment. "I find that hard to believe," he remarked sardonically.
Malfoy assumed a defensive stance and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Oh yeah? Why is that, Potter?"
"Because you don't know how it feels like to actually want something."
"Is that so? I might've been privileged, but that didn't mean that I wasn't lacking."
"Of course you'd be a greedy git," Harry sneered. "What could you possibly lack? You have everything!"
"Like what? Money? Anyone can make money if they want to; a fat lot that does me."
"It bought you this, didn't it?" He spread his arms wide, gesturing at the expanse that was Malfoy's home. "Nice house you've got here. How much did it cost your dad and mum to get this for you?"
"It cost them nothing," Malfoy countered through gritted teeth. "However, it cost me a fortune. But it was worth it, because it meant that it was truly my own, something I actually earned."
Harry stared at him, stunned. "You mean-"
"I've cut off all ties with them, at least until they can understand..."
He narrowed his eyes. "Understand what?"
"That I can't live their life anymore. That I need to make my own choices. Simply knowing that I can make a choice rather than following an order..."
"Do you expect me to feel sorry for you?" Harry demanded even as he experienced a twinge of sympathy.
"I don't expect you to feel anything, Potter!" Malfoy exclaimed as he angrily scattered more food for the birds that were demanding his attention. Snowflakes had begun to fall and covered the ground, but the peacocks had no trouble discerning the crumbs among the vast whiteness. "I sure as hell don't want your pity, so you can take that and shove it."
Harry remained silent after that, his eyes fixed on the peacocks eating the crumbs as if they were the most fascinating creatures he had ever seen. He may have lost both of his parents, his godfather, and other people that are dear to him, but he wouldn't want Malfoy's pity either. "I'm not here to fight with you," he stated after a moment. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but I guess old habits are hard to break."
"Then why are you here?"
"Hermione said you were throwing a party. I thought I'd see it for myself."
Malfoy scoffed, but the sound was without malice. "You thought I was planning something sinister, didn't you? Typical Gryffindor, always jumping to conclusions. I have much more important things to worry about than you and your friends, Potter." He cleared his throat and said, with some difficulty, "Besides, you saved my life. Do you really think that's how I would repay you?"
Harry couldn't believe that he'd forgotten about that. Now it was too easy to recall how he had rescued Malfoy from the flames of Fiendfyre that had engulfed the Room of Requirement. "You saved mine, too. You knew it was me all along when the Snatchers brought us to your house."
Malfoy shrugged restlessly, as if Harry's show of appreciation didn't sit comfortably on his shoulders. "I'm trying to put the past behind me. Perhaps a party isn't the most brilliant idea, but I didn't know how else to proceed. I thought maybe if I got Granger's help in arranging this whole thing..."
It was very odd to hear Malfoy using Hermione's name rather than calling her Mudblood. "It's hard to go wrong with Hermione."
"I doubt Weasley is happy about all this."
"He's not, but Ron will come around. He always does."
"I'm not expecting us to be best friends, Potter. But maybe it's time for a truce."
Harry thought again of what Hermione had said before. What was the point of holding on to these feelings of animosity when he fought so hard for peace? If Malfoy can make the first attempt at reconciliation by throwing this party, the least he can do is meet him halfway. He stuck out his hand. "Merry Christmas, Draco."
Malfoy returned the gesture, relief evident on his face. "Merry Christmas, Harry."
