Disclaimer: Don't own anything, etc, etc…

Draco stared down at his feet as Headmistress McGonagall's nose flared, and he kept an expressionless face as she began her tirade against the boys whose primary source of entertainment over the year seemed to have been making mincemeat out of him. He had studiously avoided looking anywhere except at the Headmistress and the small cat statue she had placed on her desk.

"Mr. Malfoy, have you anything to say about this?" she turned her attention once more to him. She had sent the younger boys to the hall to wait until she decided what to do with them. He shifted uncomfortably under her sharp gaze.

"No, Professor. Well, I am a little concerned they've been going after the younger students." Weasley gave a small note of surprise. "Rookwood's daughter is in second year, and I know Rowle has a nephew in fourth year, but I don't know if many other people know that… Then, of course, there's the Greengrass girls. I don't think anyone would go after them, though. Theo hasn't mentioned anything, and I haven't noticed anything odd." He rattled this off in somewhat of a monotone – it was great and wonderful that Weasley had saved the day, but he could think of many other places he would rather be than the Headmistress' office, under the sharp gaze of Dumbledore and Snape's portraits.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall replied crisply, and called the delinquents back in. They shuffled in bashfully, and, noticing that the Headmistress had vanished their chairs, stood awkwardly in front of her desk, squished between Draco and Weasley.

"This behavior is inexcusable, as I'm sure you have already surmised," she addressed them sternly. "An additional forty house points will be taken from each of you. You will serve detention every night from seven until nine for the next three weeks, and every Friday and Saturday at the same time for the remainder of the school year." Their faces would have been comical, if Draco had any inclination to laugh, but the professor pressed on. "Your Hogsmeade privileges are revoked, and you will be removed from your Quidditch teams until further notice. I have had my fair share of fights and run-of-the-mill scuffles, but purposely attacking another student with intention to do serious harm is absolutely despicable. Your parents should be receiving letters within the day." She gave them another cold look. "You are dismissed."

They hastily fled the office, and McGonagall sighed and seemed to droop a little, sinking into her chair and cleaning her glasses wearily. She glanced up to see the two eighth years looking at her. Shaking her head, she started to speak.

"Mr. Malfoy, I am terribly sorry about this. Had I known…" she paused, and closed her eyes for a brief moment. "Despite Severus' insistence that there would be violence, I had hoped my House would be better than this…" She looked so old and tired that Draco felt a small stirring of pity and guilt rise in his chest.

"Professor, it had nothing to do with you. And, thank you," he said, "for… for being fair." She gave him a small smile – the first such he had seen directed at him since, well, ever. "If that's all, then?" he asked somewhat pointedly, hoping he could get out of the watchful eyes of both Dumbledore and his godfather's portraits.

"Yes. And Mr. Malfoy, please don't hesitate to come to me should this ever happen again." He nodded in agreement and walked with Weasley towards the office door. The redhead descended the stairs first, but kept pace with Draco's halting progress down the steps. He paused at the bottom of the stairwell, and turned to Draco.

"Will you be okay, Malfoy?" he asked seriously, blue eyes boring into Draco's grey ones. Draco thought again of how mature Weasley had gotten over the years. If only it had been like this when he was younger… "Malfoy?" Draco jolted back to reality.

"Yes, Weasley, thank you." He tried to move forward, but Weasley didn't budge.

"Now, listen here," the ginger began sternly. "We've never been friends, but something seems to have happened to you to make you halfway decent. I may not like you, but I reckon we might as well put everything behind us."

"This sounds familiar," Draco mused. "Did I have a dream about this?"

"I might have mentioned something about it last night, but you might have been too delirious for it to sink in."

"Ah," Draco replied, satisfied. "Well, in that case, I accept." He stuck his hand out, and Weasley took it. The redhead nodded, then turned and walked into the hallway. He waved to Draco, who was ambushed by Blaise, Pansy and Astoria, who had been waiting for him in the hall. They looked at him anxiously, and he motioned for them to walk with him.

"They essentially got detentions for the rest of their lives, Quidditch is done for them, and so is Hogsmeade." He shrugged, and continued walking.

"That's it?" exclaimed Pansy, somewhat indignantly. Blaise put a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she subsided. Astoria looked up at him with wide eyes.

"How are you doing?" she asked, looking concerned. "Blaise told me what happened this morning."

"I'm fine. It takes more than that to bring down a Malfoy." Now that he was out of the Headmistress's office, and finished with the unpleasantness, he was feeling almost jovial. "Now, who's in the mood for some lunch?"

The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully, for a Tuesday. After lunch, Draco managed to gain Professor Sprout's approval by successfully transplanting a particularly tricky leaping toadstool. Then came Potions, where he was able to ignore Granger's concerned looks – apparently Weasley had filled her in on what had happened in McGonagall's office – because they were once more in a potion-making competition. He won – they stood at about 50-50 score-wise. The night melted away in a blur of homework and chatting with Pansy and Theo.

Wednesday and Thursday passed much the same way. There was nothing particularly exciting to catch Draco's attention until his evening session with Astoria, and so he passed the days pleasantly enough. His steps felt lighter as he walked through the halls – there was very little threat of being grabbed and beaten now that McGonagall had spoken with the miscreants. He even hummed a little as he made his way to the library.

Astoria was already there, waiting for him. She looked up when he entered, and he nodded in greeting. She had already opened her potions textbooks and had out a quill and parchment.

"How did your test go?" Draco asked, sinking into the seat next to her.

"Draco, I'm sorry," she rushed out, ignoring his question. His eyes narrowed in confusion, and he tilted his head to the side. "If you hadn't been tutoring me the other night, you wouldn't have been out so late, and then you wouldn't have gotten hurt. I'm sorry…" Draco put his hand on top of her clenched fist, which she had laid on the table, and gave her a gentle smile.

"Astoria, listen. It's not your fault. They would have come for me a different time, or a different night. No, listen," he repeated, when she shook her head. "Thanks to your ungodly prefects rounds, all of that is over. So, really, I should be thanking you." She shook her head again, but some of the worry had drained out of her green eyes.

"My rounds aren't so bad," was all she said as an answer. He chuckled at how Slytherin it was of her, but was glad to see she wasn't worried anymore.

"Anyway, your test?"

Two hours later, Draco and Astoria stood in the door of the library, saying their goodnights. Their lesson had gone smoothly – Draco wasn't sure how much longer she would need tutoring, and he knew he would miss spending time with her. Apparently Astoria was thinking along those lines as well, because she paused and looked up at him.

"Do you suppose… Would you like to meet up, sometime? Outside of tutoring?" She sounded hesitant, and tucked a stray lock of blonde hair nervously behind her ear. Draco felt a grin stretch across his face.

"That would be fun. Hogsmeade visit in a couple of weeks, yeah?" Astoria nodded, and turned to fiddle with the strap of her schoolbag.

"Well, good night then, Draco."

"Yeah – see you later." They parted, and Draco made his way to the eighth-year dormitory feeling lighter than he had in days.

"What's with your face?" asked Blaise when he walked into the common room. He and Pansy were settled onto a couch, and Pansy was leaning into his shoulder as he stroked her hair.

"What about my face?"

"It's… happy. Looking-ish," answered Pansy, haltingly. "Why, Merlin, is that a smile?" She and Blaise looked at each other and began to chuckle.

"I didn't know Potions tutoring could have that effect on a person." The two of them were most definitely amused at his situation.

"Yes, well… Good night, then." And ignoring them, he made his way to the dorm and settled into the first night all week not punctuated by restless dreams and dark thoughts.

A/N: So, I hope you enjoyed. Sorry it was so long in the making… We had exams last week, so I hope you can excuse me.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter (or any chapter)! Let me know if there are any comments, criticisms, concerns regarding this chapter (aka: review!).

Xoxo, GusGus