A/N - I'm so sorry that's its taken me so long to update.. I haven't forgotten, honest! I've been moving and switching jobs etc etc. But, here is the latest chapter! And thank you so, so much to all my readers and especially my wonderful reviewers! Please please keep reviewing and stoking that fire under my arse to get me writing more and updating faster! So, REVIEW! And without further ado onto the fic..

The days, weeks, no.. the months were slipping by altogether too fast for Draco. Winter snow had long since melted into spring, and the world had leapt to life around him. Now spring was on the cusp of summer, and Draco felt like time was running out, like he was watching his life whilst trapped in an hourglass. The thick glass impenetrable and trying to look through it skewed and dipped his vision, the sand that had once been a gritty annoyance around his feet now slipping over his shoulders to pin his arms by his sides. Every time the thought of returning to Hogwarts ambushed his mind he felt as if it brought that solidified sandy panic with it that slithered and shimmered its way into his mouth, filling his lungs and expanding in his throat.

This time was no exception. The thoughts had snuck up on him as he was standing in the shower, forearms and top of his head braced against the cool tiles creating such a pleasurable contrast with the warm spray of water cascading over his back. Now it felt like the tendrils of steam were choking him and bile rose up in his throat. Stumbling out of the shower he dropped to his knees in front of the toilet, gasping and retching. He didn't know whether it was better or worse that his stomach was empty and therefore there was nothing to bring up. His magic flared out around him and on the peripheral of his consciousness he faintly registered the shattering of one of his favourite crystal phials sitting on the windowsill, but he didn't care right now. He curled in on himself in a pitiful pile of soggy existence and clenched his fists, the dull pain of his nails biting into his palms clearing his head slightly. He didn't know if he lay there for minutes or hours, forcing himself to breathe, the water cooling then hardening on his skin but finally the grip on his chest began to loosen and he sat upright, stealing quick, shallow little gasps of precious air and pulling a towel from the rail to wrap about himself. How was he going to do this?

oOoOo

In the midst of the crowds in Diagon Alley Draco felt like the only thing holding him up was Pansy's arm fixed securely through his own. He had put it off for as long as he could, but with the start of term only a week away, Pansy had insisted it was time to get their school supplies and Draco was out of excuses. She walked briskly, her snub nose stuck up in the air. For such a short little witch she was exuding presence today, Draco eyed her appraisingly. He didn't know how she was doing it. His own confidence was shattered; fear shadowed his every step, especially out in public like this. He forced himself to match Pansy's demeanour though, taking a small comfort in the knowledge that his appearance was immaculate; thanks to a glamour or two here and there to hide things like the dark circles under his eyes. To anybody else, it would seem there was nothing different between Draco and Pansy at all. But Draco knew better. He knew that his legs were shaking with every step, that the difference was that Pansy's confidence was real and his was, well, not. They only had to get their books from Flourish and Blotts now though, and he could leave and get back to the relative safety of his home, where only his own mind was a threat.

The moment Pansy let go of his arm with a squeal and ran over the window of Eeylops Owl Emporium to coo at the tiny fluffy chicks in the window Draco felt the mood of the crowd shift. They had been on the receiving end of hate filled glares, and muttered but uncast curses all afternoon. Together they had presented a united front, separated they were as good as defenceless; nothing more than easy targets. Especially him. His blond hair shining in the sunlight marked him unmistakably as a Malfoy. A supporter of the Dark Lord. A Death Eater. Even if he had not been convicted by the Wizengamot, he knew he had been by the majority of the public.

"Pansy." He heard the tremor in his voice as he called out and hated himself for it. As Pansy turned back towards him the smile dropped from her face as the crowd pressed in towards them, separating them further with faces twisted in expressions of open loathing. He was pushed backwards, then flung forwards by the wizard he fell into.

"Don't touch me, scum."

"How dare you show your face."

He could see Pansy pressed up against the window, a wand pressed to her throat. Her lips were moving and although he could no longer hear anything except the taunts and threats all around him he knew she was screaming his name. He finally lost his footing on the cobbled street and went sprawling to his knees. A hex cut open his cheek then his eyebrow in quick succession and as his hands flew reflexively up to his face someone bound them behind his back with an incancerous.

He stared down at the blood gathering into a small pool in front of him as it dripped from his face. Another hex hit his hipbone, sending a ripple of agony down his leg. He clamped his mouth shut; he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of showing his pain. A searing heat flaring up in his shoulder had him biting down hard on his lip, causing yet more blood to flow from him. So this was it then, he needn't have spent all that time worrying about going back to Hogwarts after all.

"Stop!" The clear voice went ringing through his ears, cutting through the noise of the throng. A couple of witches, one very elderly, stepped in front of him, the younger one casting a shield charm over him. He raised his head and blinked the blood from his eyes. He vaguely recognised them from the reconstruction at Hogwarts, but he had never spoken to them.

"You should all be ashamed of yourselves. He's just a child!" The old witch spat out.

"He's a Death Eater." Someone hissed.

"He was never convicted. His name was cleared, or have you all forgotten about that? And come to think of it, I don't remember seeing a single one of you at the Hogwarts reconstruction, like he was." A few people had the grace to look chagrined at her words. "Frankly, I am disgusted to witness a scene like this in the streets of Diagon Alley. In this world some of us fought so hard to bring peace back to. You're all a disgrace to the Wizarding community." Draco was shocked that someone he didn't even know would speak out for him like this, protect him like this. People started to disperse, though it was more than likely they had started to worry about Aurors turning up as the angry mutterings hadn't stopped completely. Someone spat at him, but it didn't get near him as the shield charm was still in place.

One of his rescuers released his wrists and he swayed forward onto his hands and knees.

"Pansy!" He cried as his head snapped up, eyes searching, but she wasn't where she was before.

"She's alright, boy." The elderly witch had stooped down beside him, and her blue eyes were twinkling as she grasped his chin in one of her bony weathered hands and healed his cuts with a quick episkey.

"I, thank you." He muttered awkwardly, standing and grimacing as more pain shot down his hexed leg, and then helping her back to her feet.

"Draco!" Pansy shrieked, and then he could see her again, emerging from where the mob was scattering. She was shaking like a leaf, and being supported by someone.. Oh, of course. Harry Potter. Popping up again just when Draco least wanted him to. She practically threw herself into Draco's arms and he realised that he was shaking too. Harry just stood a little awkwardly to the side, managing to keep his mouth shut for once. As Pansy looked back at Harry, Draco becomes aware that the boy has a small jagged cut running dangerously close to his right eye.

"Harry?" Pansy's voice is tiny, but it doesn't wobble. "I can't even.." She trails off. "Thank you." And she lets go of Draco to give him a small awkward hug, then her hand is back on Draco's arm and she is whispering in his ear about taking him home. Before Harry can even reply the swirl of apparition was tugging behind his nave and Draco realises that Harry must have stepped in front of a curse meant for Pansy. Shocked, the last thing Draco saw was Harry stooping to the ground to pick something up.

oOoOo

His mother was in the garden bent low over one of her rose bushes when they appeared. She straightens, a wide smile curving her lips, but her words of welcome died on her lips and the colour drained from her face as she took them in. Draco knew he was covered in dried blood and his robes are ripped and dirty. When his mother drops rushes to his side and gathers him in her arms it took everything he had to not break down in tears.

"Oh, Draco, my darling. Pansy! What happened?" She had gathered Pansy protectively in to her as well and held them both tightly. Draco could still feel himself shaking and didn't trust that the tears he was fighting so hard to contain wouldn't spill over if he opened his mouth, so he allowed Pansy to tell his mother everything as together they pulled him into the living room.

He sat numbly on the sofa and drank the overly sweet tea Coby brought in to them without a word of complaint, though normally he wouldn't put any sugar or honey in his tea, and in his panic, the little elf seemed to have done both. When his mother gently suggested he go and clean himself up, he rose and left the room silently. As he stepped into the steam of the hot shower he realised that it was not the horror of what had happened that was shaking him up, it was that he had believed that the mob would kill him, and for a moment, he had wanted them to. It was only once he had washed his hair and scrubbed his body clean and was sitting dressed in fresh clothes that he pressed his fist against his mouth and allowed the tears to spill hotly down his cheeks.

He didn't really want to die, did he? It was just a heat of the moment thing, surely. Definitely. He thought of his mother, the look of dismay spread across her face when he had arrived back from Diagon Alley. He couldn't, wouldn't leave her to fend for herself against people like those who had attacked him today. Like it or not, there would always be people like that. He thought of Pansy, his over confident, loud, abrasive, gossipy, loyal, wonderful best friend. His only friend. Well, maybe that wasn't true. Harry wanted to start over, to start a friendship. He kept showing up in Draco's life whether he liked it or not. And maybe, just maybe he was starting to like it. After all, he had been so desperate to be Harry's friend when they had been eleven years old, and through all the hurt and anger, that desire had never disappeared.

Slowly, the sobs silently wracking his body subsided. Surprised, he found that he felt better, like the months of tension and pent up emotion had found their way from his body and mind through his tears leaving only a feeling of resolve. A determination to remake the Malfoy name; not into what it had been before, but something new. Something, good. Maybe even something that wasn't feared as it had been with his father, but respected. With this new feeling coursing through his veins he went back into the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water. He raised his eyes to survey himself in the mirror before returning downstairs. Yes, he could, do this. He had to.

oOoOo

His mother had insisted that Pansy stay for dinner, and Draco was glad of her company. It just served to further reinforce what he had decided to fight for; his future, his family. And Pansy was as much his family as much as his mother. She had kissed him on both cheeks when she left and firmly told him that she would see him next week when they would apparate to Hogsmeade together. The returning eighth years would be arriving two days earlier than the rest of the school. Draco was glad that he would be spared the Hogwarts Express and be able to get used to being there again without the threats and insults that would undoubtedly arrive with the rest of the students.

His mother had watched him anxiously at the start of the meal but had soon relaxed. Maybe she could sense the change in his demeanour, or even see the resolve that now curled in his mind and Draco was glad of it. He didn't want her to be worrying about him anymore; she'd done enough of that when Voldemort had first returned and nearly had a breakdown when he had been given his mission in sixth year and been initiated.

He was sitting in the nook, immersed in trying to understand the Merchant of Venice when an owl swooped in through the open window, ripping a few hairs from his head in the process. Scowling and smoothing down his hair he regarded the creature now perched on the bookshelf carefully, knowing exactly who had sent it and not feeling nearly as annoyed by it as he should have been.

"Caelum." Draco acknowledged and held his arm out slowly. The owl blinked its large amber eyes, considering him for a moment and then flapped down, giving his wrist a sharp peck for good measure. "With your disposition you could be mistaken for a Malfoy owl." He muttered, grabbing the parchment swiftly away from the sharp beak darting towards him again. Not one to miss an opportunity, Caelum dug his talons reproachfully into Draco's arm before sweeping off back into the night, his black feathers allowing him to disappear quickly from sight. Not waiting for a reply then. Curiosity getting the better of him he uncurled the small note.

'Malfoy,

I hope that you and Pansy are both okay after this afternoon. Please tell her that she doesn't need to thank me for anything.

I just wanted to let you know that I picked up the books you guys needed. You dropped your list and they were the only things not crossed off. I had them sent straight to Hogwarts. But don't worry, you don't owe me anything, I had the manager charge your Gringotts accounts directly.

See you next week,

Harry.'

Draco shook his head. Only Harry bloody Potter could waltz into a shop and have items charged to someone else's bloody account. But the strange thing was, he wasn't angry, or even annoyed. Okay, maybe he was a little bit annoyed. But more so, he was, pleased that someone had done that for him. No, he corrected himself, not just someone. He was pleased that Harry had done it for him. Maybe, if Harry really was on his side, things really were going to be okay after all.