The next morning, Draco was awoken by Harry bringing in a breakfast tray. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead," he said as he set the tray down on Draco's lap. The sides flipped out, creating a small table in his bed.

"Breakfast in bed?" Draco asked, stunned.

"Yes," Harry told him. "And we made you bacon too. You missed dinner last night, you must be starved."

Draco realized that his stomach did feel uncomfortably empty, and the smell of the breakfast was nearly overpowering. He began to eat with enthusiasm, and the food actually tasted good too.

"Looks like you're feeling better," Harry told him, walking over and opening his drapes. "Do you have any affects from yesterday's attack?"

"No," Draco answered, his mouth full and carefully testing his muscles. "Granger did a decent job."

"Hermione," Harry told him pointedly.

"Hermione," Draco repeated sarcastically, but in good humor. "I shouldn't have bloody apologized to her, you weren't going to punish me last night."

"I could have this morning," Harry answered, arching an eyebrow.

"You're too soft-hearted."

"Maybe," Harry answered, his lip twitching. "I'm glad you're better. We're going to have to take better precautions in the future if you leave the house. Apparently Ron had told his family we were going shopping today, that's how George found us."

"Weasel," Draco muttered.

"Watch your mouth," Harry warned him, and Draco turned his attention to his bacon.

"I promised to keep you safe, and I'm sorry that that happened to you yesterday," Harry told him softly. "Did it, I don't know, are you feeling worried about it?"

Draco snorted. "Potter, you should see what they did to me in prison," he replied, trying to sound like he was blustering but it came off a little hollow. "That was nothing."

"I fought in the war too, Draco," Harry told him, emphasizing his first name. "And it would still scare me if someone grabbed me like that and beat me up."

"Yeah, you haven't been in prison," Draco told him. "There were supposed to be wards up to prevent it, but, let's just say I was relieved it was George."

"Relieved?" Harry asked incredulously. "He was giving you a proper thrashing from what I saw."

"Exactly," Draco answered. "He wasn't trying to kill me, just make me hurt a little. I was relieved."

"It sounds like you sized him up quickly," Harry softly reflected.

"Of course," Draco answered. "I've gotten more, well, practical since our school days."

"Practical?" Harry asked.

"Obviously," Draco answered. "If you had been placed as my guardian at 15 I would be plotting to kill you. If my parents had been killed I would have been raging or tearing things apart."

"And now?"

"Now I'm just glad you're such a sodding optimistic Gryffindor that you're willing to save my sorry arse," Draco replied. "Really? Did you hear what you told George? And it worked. I don't get you guys."

"Well, I'm glad you're not trying to kill me."

"Well, at least let me get my strength back."

"Speaking of what I said to George, I wanted to talk to you about your rehabilitation," Harry told him. "I have some ideas for you. But first, if you could do anything, what would you do?"

"Leave here and go to the Bahamas?" Draco drawled sarcastically.

"I mean from here."

"I have no idea," Draco answered, eating a forkful of eggs. "It's been a long time since I asked myself that question."

"Well, ask it," Harry told him. "I have some ideas, but I want you to have some ideas too. First off, though, we're going to assign you some chores . . ."

"Chores?" Draco exploded. "What?"

"I need to remind you of respect for your guardian," Harry answered calmly. "I expect a 'sir' and no cheek."

"Yes sir," Draco answered with only a little sarcasm. "What would you like your slave to do today, sir?"

"I'm glad you asked," Harry answered seriously. "I will draw up a list of chores. I think you will mostly do cleaning since Kreacher prefers cooking."

"Am I a bloody house elf? Sir?"

"No, but you do need to be rehabilitated," Harry answered. "And from what we've read manual labor is a common part of that. I also want to encourage you in your career. Do you have any ideas on what you might want to do?"

"Um, I don't think my CV will qualify me for much," Draco answered sardonically. "What are good career options for ones who have served the Dark One?"

"Well Snape was a teacher," Harry told him with a smirk. "You were always rather good at Potions."

"Not good enough to teach," Draco said sadly.

"If you want to learn more, you can take a course," Harry told him. "Hermione has a basic lab set up in the basement, we can expand it. Is that something you would like?"

Draco, torn between not wanting to believe anything that Harry said and wondering if it could be actually something he could do, quietly answered, "Yes, sir."

"Good, then we'll look into that. I'm sure Hermione would love to have someone do some of the household brewing."

"What are you doing?" Draco asked him. "I mean, what are the three of you doing? Are you working or going to school?"

"Hermione and I are doing both," Harry laughed. "We're both teaching at Hogwarts and continuing our education by correspondence. They're desperate for teachers after . . . everything, so they've hired us. Hermione is teaching Transfiguration and I'm teaching Defense. McGonagall is headmistress."

"Being a war hero must look good on your CV," Draco drawled. "Defeating the Dark Lord certainly looks good for a Defense job."

"Ron's at the ministry," Harry explained. "He's assistant to Shacklebolt, who is now the Minister. They're changing how the ministry is run. They keep trying to get Hermione and I to work for the ministry, but we're just not sure. Hogwarts feels like home, you know?"

"I know," Draco answered.

"So we'll be gone during the day starting in a few weeks, but we'll all take turns checking on you during the day," Harry told him.

"I'm not an infant!" Draco protested.

"Sir," Harry added.

"Sir," Draco added, gritting his teeth.

"We know you're not an infant," Harry told him. "We just want to make sure you don't go crazy holed up here with Kreacher. This is a big adjustment for you."

"I've been in prison, SIR, not some bloody luxury accommodation!" Draco yelled.

"I know," Harry told him softly. "Now quit yelling before I have to discipline you."

Draco stopped yelling, but was still fuming.

"Well, I'm glad to see that your instinct for self-preservation is still intact," Harry smiled at him. "We're not trying to make this harder than it is, Draco. We just want to do everything we can to make it successful. You and I both know what happens if we don't succeed."

Draco felt the anger drain out of him at that. He did know, and he knew it all too well. It rankled that these idiotic Gryffindors would be the ones to save him. And in such a humiliating way, too.

"So after you finish your breakfast, I expect you to clean the loo up here and to tidy the hallway. After lunch you will also clean the main sitting room and the loo downstairs, so you could always get started on that if you finish upstairs early." Harry said this evenly and firmly, as if he expected to be obeyed, but he watched Draco carefully.

"I am not a sodding house elf!" Draco exploded. "I am not cleaning a bloody toilet!"

Harry blinked, not expecting his own anger rising. He needed to stay in control, and he decided to leave before that became a problem.

"If the loo upstairs and hallway aren't clean by lunch you will be standing for lunch, understand?" he asked sternly.

Draco didn't answer, just glowered in response. Harry left the room, saying, "Make sure you take your dishes down when you're through."

In all honesty, Harry thought to himself. It actually showed great restraint that he didn't throw the dishes against the wall.

Harry figured that Draco would be occupied for a while, so he went downstairs to talk to Hermione more about their "special project." They were getting so close now, and having Malfoy here was hopefully not going to interfere. Or was it as Hermione suggested, that he might be able to help in some way?