SIX

Harry was sleeping soundly on Monday morning, dreaming of gay experiences and marshmallows as big as his bed when a distant knocking interrupted him. Those were things he hadn't had for a while, he thought, feeling himself rousing: gay experiences and marshmallows. Charlie barked and Harry jolted awake, tangled in sheets that clung to his bare skin. The heat was stifling and unbearable.

"Get up or I'm breaking and entering!" came a familiar voice through the letterbox. Ignoring Malfoy at his door, Harry buried himself beneath the sheets, blinking sleep away. "Potter!" the clipped tones snapped. "It's one hundred degrees out here! I've got sensitive skin!" It was a good voice, Harry thought. Sharp and thrilling - not like his own grumbling tones. Charlie barked again, obviously nervous that the blond stranger had returned, this time shouting through the letterbox.

Harry sat up, horrified to find himself aroused. Although this was not an uncommon occurrence in the morning, he wasn't happy with it accompanying thoughts of Malfoy and his presence at the front door. "Don't come in!" he shouted, tripping out of bed and into his bathroom.

"I'm coming through the window if you don't open up!" Charlie whimpered at the bathroom door as Harry washed, thinking firm thoughts of the stripper-gram Nathaniel had received last year that his friends had been promising him. He'd been deliriously excited all through the day until an ancient wizard with a beard down to his knees had turned up at half past four, striping down to his bare, wrinkled flesh. Harry had gone home that day extremely traumatised.

Feeling considerably more in control, Harry dressed quickly, yanking open the front door as he pulled a t shirt over his head. "Indecent exposure just after breakfast." Malfoy commented, sidestepping Harry as he let himself into the flat. Harry ignored him, gandering at his outfit which consisted of dark jeans and of all things – a t shirt with The Beatles printed on it. His rucksack was slung over his shoulder and his hair was falling loose into his eyes. Malfoy wandered into the kitchen and Harry stifled a laugh as he caught sight of the squirrel badge. "You slept late." Malfoy remarked, watching Harry spill orange juice on the floor and call Charlie to lick it up.

"Sorry." Harry mumbled, not really sorry at all. If Malfoy hadn't shown up, he'd have still been dreaming about marshmallows right now, or taking care of more important matters that involved absolutely no thoughts of ancient stripper-gram's and maybe thoughts of gay experiences.

"We're supposed to be there by half past nine." Harry downed the orange juice, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"God Malfoy," he gasped, slamming his glass in the sink. "You're such a nag." Malfoy ignored him, his brow furrowed. Harry stopped to look at him. Though his attitude was still chirpy and irritating, something in his eyes seemed considerably more downcast than yesterday. His hair was also damp.

"Did you wash your hair?"

"Yes." Malfoy snapped, looking annoyed at the question. Harry chuckled, going into the living room to put the record player on for Charlie. The Beatles began to play, filling the room with their music.

"Malfoy." Harry called.

"What?"

"These are The Beatles, the band on your shirt. Did you know?" Malfoy came into the room to stand next to Harry and sneer at him.

"Of course I know who they are. Idiot." Charlie joined them both, his tail between his legs as he associated the record player with either Harry leaving him for a few hours or Harry making him dance on his hind legs when he'd drunk too much sherry. Malfoy was examining the front of his t shirt. "Tell me which one's singing." he demanded. "I always forget." Harry pointed at Paul McCartney's face, amused at Malfoy's strange knowledge in a world he wasn't familiar with, and had apparently wanted to suppress into slavery. "Who's your favourite?" he asked, a smirk dancing on his lips. "The one with glasses?" Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, because he has glasses like me. Very funny."

"Is it this moustache one?"

"No it isn't Ringo." Harry smiled. "And they all have moustaches."

"Yeah but his is...overbearing." Malfoy replied, scrutinising his shirt and tracing Ringo's moustache with a pale finger. Harry had to reality check the situation for a moment. If someone had told him last week that he'd be stood in his living room, discussing The Beatles' moustaches with Draco Malfoy, he'd have signed them both into St Mungo's. Malfoy himself was beginning to remind Harry of Teddy, which was a startling thought when he remembered they were related. Harry shuddered. "Is it this plain one?" Malfoy asked, gesturing to George Harrison.

"Yeah, he's my favourite." Harry nodded. "He's got a wicked smile." Malfoy stopped looking at his t shirt and looked bored instead. "Hey Jude..." Harry sang quietly.

"That's shocking." Malfoy remarked. Harry ignored him, pulling him from the room and out the front door.

"Come on Squirrel. Let's go."

~X~
It was just as hot when they Apparated into Hogsmede - if not hotter. The path leading up to Hogwarts was dusty and dry and Malfoy and Harry walked it together in silence. A canopy of trees above their head offered them a web of shade that proved about as much help as the non-existent breeze in the still air. The birds sang in the brush as they passed, calling to one another in shrill tones. "Am I supposed to look pretty today?" Harry asked, breaking the silence as he remembered his picture was going to be in the paper.Merlin, why did he agree to this? The last time his picture had been in the paper, he'd been grimacing unattractively whilst walking Charlie. 'Boy Hero Scoops Poop' the caption had read. Harry wanted to know who the hell was reading that shit – pardon the pun.

"As pretty as possible." Malfoy replied, rubbing at his eyes. "But I'm not expecting too many miracles." When they got to the gates, Harry saw far more people than he'd ever expected to and he stopped in his tracks, looking at the swarm of students, officials and professors. His mouth went dry and he cursed himself for not bringing water – and for turning up in the first place. Malfoy turned to look at him, his expression frosty. "Really Potter?" he asked quietly. "What do you have to be worried about?" Harry caught up with him and they walked together again, a little bit closer than before. Malfoy didn't seem to mind, and his hand brushed against Harry's as they walked.

"Harry!" called a voice as Dean appeared, his sleeves rolled up and a radiant grin on his face. "Good to see you mate!" Malfoy immediately fell behind as Dean shook Harry's hand firmly. "You must be here for pictures and stuff, yeah?" Dean asked, clapping a hand on Harry's back and leading him away.

"Uh...yeah." Harry replied, looking around for Malfoy as he walked but finding him nowhere. Why did he have such a knack for getting lost in crowds? It made Harry nervous.

"Harry Potter!" Neville beamed, elbowing his way through a group of girls and pulling him into a hug. "I haven't seen you for months!" Harry was immediately surrounded by a knot of people, some of whom he recognised, some who he had no recollection of whatsoever but seemed to know everything about him. He was happy to see most of them anyway, and he even signed a girl's arm. Neville raised an eyebrow at him and handed him a glass of cold lemonade. Dean laughed and led him away to the cool shade of the castle wall.

"Hello Harry," said Luna, looking pretty in a summery play suit with a flower painted on her cheek. "Ginny's coming over now." Harry looked at where she was pointing and saw Ginny approach in a flowery dress with her red hair swept up. She looked beautiful – as always – and Harry was glad they had talked before today.

"The gang's all here." he said in a sober voice, immediately cursing himself for his gawkiness.

"Not quite." laughed Neville, gesturing for Harry to sit down in the shade. "Ron and Hermione are down under." Harry nodded, watching Luna take out a sketchbook and start to draw his portrait. She smiled absently, crossing her legs as she sat next to him on the grass.

"Hello." said Ginny, joining them. "So you weren't lying about helping Malfoy then, Harry?"

"No." he replied, trying to keep his posture still as Luna drew him. "I gave in."

"You what? That git's not here is he?" Seamus cried, appearing with Dean and several roles of parchment.

"He's a photographer for The Daily Prophet." said Harry. Seamus pulled a disgusted face and sat down with Dean and Neville, unrolling the parchments and holding them up for Harry to see. They consisted of elaborate and complicated plans of Hogwarts, much like the ones on the Marauder's Map.

"Dean's work." Neville said as Seamus pointed at the parchment in several areas, excited about his friend's work. "Remember I was telling you when I saw you last?" Harry did remember. Neville had told him all about the reconstruction work going on Hogwarts and how Dean had been the architect behind it all, using his talent with a quill to help carefully redesign the structure of the castle.

"You've all been busy then." Harry remarked as Luna tilted his chin up with her pencil.

"Oh yeah!" Seamus cried, clearly excited. "Neville's been offered a job as a Herbology professor once he gets a bit more experience."

"Really? That's great Neville!"

"Yeah!" Neville grinned. "Imagine that Harry! Me: a professor at Hogwarts!" Harry could definitely imagine that. Neville had after all been a hero three years ago. No one had foreseen that. Seamus clapped his hands together.

"I'm getting married Harry! I met the love of me life!" Harry broke out of his posture in surprise and Luna made a small noise of disapproval.

"Really? Is she here today?" Harry gasped.

"Really." Seamus replied, his grin alive on his face as Dean and Neville chuckled together knowingly. "And he is." Dean slapped Harry on the back good naturedly as he blinked in confusion.

"He?"

"He." Seamus smiled. "Works in potions! Never blown anything up in his life! I'll introduce you later Harry." Harry nodded, allowing Luna to reposition his face.

"Wow...Where have I been?"

"Tell me about it Harry." Neville replied. "We've missed you."

Ginny was smiling at him in amusement, making a daisy chain as she watched Luna paint Harry with stars in his eyes and cat-eye glasses. With the sun warm on his face as he listened to his friends talk in the shade, it was easy to forget why he'd come here. He sat listening to Dean and Seamus talk about Quidditch and Neville telling Ginny about daisies that grew ten times the size of normal ones in the Swedish mountains. Ginny slipped the daisy chain around Harry's wrist as he rested his head against the stone wall, closing his eyes. She leaned close to his ear. "Malfoy's over there Harry." she said quietly.

Harry opened his eyes and looked ahead at the people on the front lawn. McGonagall was stood with Malfoy in the sun, pointing at the castle as Malfoy made notes in his notebook. He looked hot and bothered and Harry felt a pang of guilt. He stood up, excusing himself from the group and promising to return later. "Good to see you Harry Potter." said Madame Rosmerta from behind the lemonade stand as he passed, picking up a glass. She had a low cut dress on and stood fanning herself in the shade of a parasol. Harry made a mental note to tell Ron about it.

"Hello Profess-" Harry began as McGonagall threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. She broke away almost immediately, arranging her features into formal sternness once more.

"Good to see you, Potter." she said stiffly, before hurrying off to speak to Kingsley Shacklebolt who waved at Harry from a circle of Ministry officials.

"Here." Harry said, handing Malfoy the glass of lemonade and waving back. Malfoy closed his notebook and accepted it, avoiding Harry's gaze as he drank.

"Having a catch-up were you?" he asked, his tone wry.

"Yes." Harry replied. "Neville's a teacher, Dean's an architect, Luna's an artist and Seamus is marrying another man." Malfoy raised his eyebrows but made no other comment on the matter. He shrugged his rucksack off his shoulders and stowed his notebook away, taking out his camera instead.

"Now comes my least favourite part." he muttered.

Harry was then made to stand for an hour in the sun as he posed for photographs with various combinations of Ministry Officials, old professors and friends outside the front doors of a newly rebuilt Hogwarts. He smiled like he belonged there, though he hadn't helped move a single brick to bring the castle up from the ashes. He muttered this to Ginny, who told him he was here because he'd brought Voldemort down, and without him, none of them, probably not even the castle itself, would be standing here today. Malfoy told everyone what to do in a firm but slightly wavering voice after Dean had said very loudly: "Listen to him or we'll end up in his cellar." Harry had frowned as the camera clicked but Malfoy's face was expressionless and cool. Kingsley stood next to Harry for the final photographs, and he lowered his voice.

"Are you here with Malfoy?" he asked. Harry swallowed nervously. There was no point lying.

"Yeah."

"Be careful Harry." Kingsley said, putting his arm around Harry on Malfoy's command.

"Why?" Harry whispered back through his false smile as the shutter went off once again.

"His father's in St Mungo's and we believe Draco is estranged from his home. I've heard he's become somewhat unhinged."

"Why is Mr. Malfoy in St Mungo's?" Harry asked quickly.

"Guilt, nervous collapse – we aren't sure." Kingsley replied. "He's unstable, and so is his son."

"That'll do." Malfoy said suddenly to the group, changing the film in his camera. Harry was the last to disperse from the front doors. He stood awkwardly, his cheeks aching from all the smiling, and caught Malfoy's eye. They looked at one another for a moment, grey locked on green as both silently tried to figure the other out.

So Malfoy was unhinged? Watching Malfoy watch him, Harry guessed his obscure personality made a bit more sense now. "Off you trot Golden Boy." Malfoy said in a low voice. "I've got enough pictures of your fat head."

~X~

Later, Harry met with Seamus' fiancé, Andrew: a handsome Wizard with dusty coloured hair who stood with his arm around the smaller man as he talked potions. Harry listened to him, trying to pretend he wasn't looking at the hand that traced absent circles on Seamus' waist. Dean bounded over to say he was leaving and handed Harry a scrap of parchment with his number on it. "My mother's holding a street party on Wednesday Harry. It's a Muggle thing, yeah? I'd love for you to come." he grinned, hurrying off again. Harry turned back to Seamus, looking at the parchment Dean had given him.

"Are you going on..." Seamus might have replied if Harry had finished his sentence and his lips weren't locked with Andrew's. Harry cleared his throat and Seamus looked at him, grinning wickedly.

"We'll be there Harry. It's going to be great!" Harry laughed, feeling his discomfort disperse.

Eventually Ginny called him away and he accepted the cup of strawberries she held out for him. "You look flustered." she said, a flower now painted on her face. It looked like Luna had been busy. "I've just been talking to Malfoy." Harry was staring down at the strawberries in the polystyrene cup. He looked up at the mention of Malfoy's name.

"How did that go?" Ginny shrugged, looking over at the blond who was taking pictures of the lake and rubbing his eyes. "We had very little to say to each other." she replied. "But he's...interesting."

"You bet he is." Harry sighed. Ginny shoved him in Malfoy's direction and turned to call Luna, wandering away and leaving him to it. Malfoy didn't turn around when Harry approached. He stood staring out at the lake, rubbing his eyes furiously. "You're not crying are you?" Harry asked, standing next to him. Malfoy gave him a wry look, his expression bleary.

"I'm tired, Potter. That's all."Harry offered him a strawberry and he accepted, putting it to his lips and sighing. Covertly, Harry watched him eat, taking in the sight of his dishevelled hair that had dried platinum and shimmering in the sun. Malfoy looked at him, fiddling with his camera.

"I'm going to take pictures inside." he said in a voice that was suddenly soft. "Come with me?" Harry nodded instantly and followed Malfoy back up the steps to the castle and through the heavy oak doors. It was refreshingly cool in The Entrance Hall and wizened Wizards tipped their hats at Harry as he passed. Malfoy ignored them as they did him. They started in The Great Hall where the glass in the windows had been repaired, letting sunlight pour through them, and the ceiling above them showed a gloriously blue sky. "What do you think?" Malfoy asked, taking a picture of the four tables lined up together.

"Of what?"

"Hogwarts."

Harry inhaled thoughtfully. "It's brilliant..."

"But it isn't the same." Malfoy finished for him. It was true. The castle had been rebuilt, brick by brick, but the bricks were a different shade to the old ones so it looked like someone had plastered up the gaping holes. Although Dean said they added character, Harry thought they looked like battle scars. Some might say battle scars are a thing to be proud of - Harry felt otherwise. To him, they were a reminder of a past where someone had torn his home apart. "Come on Potter." Malfoy said so gently, Harry almost expected him to take his hand.

He didn't, but Harry followed him out anyway, through the front doors and towards the Quidditch pitch. It was standing once more, the goalposts shining and the stands bright and new. Malfoy crouched in the middle of the pitch, photographing the goalposts with the sun behind them. Harry wandered over to him slowly, looking up at the stands and remembering matches gone by on a pitch that stood firm before war. He bumped into Malfoy as he strolled. "Watch it four eyes." Malfoy said quietly, lowering his camera.

"Do you remember we fought here before?" Harry asked, thinking of the rain and the punches. Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

"Which occasion?"

There had been more than one occasion of course. The time Harry was referring to was after their fifth year match when Malfoy had insulted the Weasley's in a fit of jealousy after Harry had won the game. That same year however, Harry had leaned close to Malfoy's ear in the corridor, fury thundering through his veins and red obscuring his vision...

"You couldn't take me on if your life depended on it." he had murmured, the taunt achingly familiar, barely able to suppress himself.

Malfoy had turned to look at him, his eyes flashing at the proposed challenge. "We'll see about that." he'd hissed.

They had met at midnight on the pitch, Harry surprised to find him turn up at all, let alone without an accomplice and ready to fight. Harry had thrown the first punch, his body hungering for release as they fought in the light of the moon in the muggy darkness. Malfoy had been a dirty fighter; kicking and biting and digging his nails into Harry's neck. There hadn't really been a winner. Harry had thrown his weight around to the point of exhaustion and they had both broken apart, Harry covered in scratches and Malfoy in bruises. "You've got problems." Malfoy had panted.

Harry had launched at him again, knowing he wouldn't be happy until he'd killed someone. Malfoy had thrown him off, kicking him hard in the side when he was down. Harry had lain there, the wind knocked out of him as he wondered why he was so livid. "We could have been good friends, you and I." Malfoy had whispered, before spitting on the floor next to Harry and storming away into the veil of darkness...

"I remember." Malfoy said anyway, referring to either or both times and bringing Harry back to the present.

Harry closed his eyes, and felt the rain, then saw the darkness and both times: the sensation of devastating skin beneath his fists and Malfoy's fingers, closing around his throat as he spat venom in his ear. "I don't know what they see in you, Potter." he had hissed. "You'll never be their saviour."

When he opened his eyes, Malfoy's face was closer than before. "Stop dwelling on it, Potter." he said firmly, his face lucid. Harry nodded instantaneously and absently brought his hand up to rest on Malfoy's chest, frightened of the vanished distance between them. He felt the softness of the t shirt beneath his fingertips, and below it, the solid impression of Malfoy's lean chest.

"Have we finished?" Harry asked quickly, clearing his throat and turning away.

"...Yes." Malfoy replied, and Harry couldn't bear to look at him.