Many nights of peaceful, dreamless sleep had blessed Harry lately; he could hardly believe his luck. So, naturally, it had to end with a loud bang and the acrid scent of smoke.

"Help!" Harry shouted, puzzlingly, since he had no need for it. He bolted upright and tore back the bed hangings in a dazed attempt to search for the noise's source.

"What?" A few feet away, Ron met Harry's eyes, his hands paused in the act of tying his trainers. Harry blinked, realizing that this was the first time his best mate had talked to him in weeks - even if it was a complete accident. This conclusion dawned on Ron, as well, and he scowled, the tips of his ears reddening as he bent firmly over his laces.

Deciding this strange turn of events demanded his attention more than the smoky smell coming through the door, Harry said, "Sorry, I…Ron, can we…?"

"Don't." His voice sounded choked as if he was about to cry. Quickly turning his face away, Ron stood from his bed, grabbed his bag, and left the room.

Harry's heart sank. He'd hoped Ron breaking his silence meant he was ready to talk. Then confusion crept in; why would Ron be crying?

Another bang echoed from the outside. "What the…" Harry made for the door, grabbing his glasses on the way. He poked his head outside of the common room and witnessed pure chaos. A pair of younger students had set off a pile of Weasley's Wildfire Whiz-Bangs, but they'd placed the rockets too close together, and the fireworks seemed to be exploding at random, out of their control. Slytherin students shrieked and rushed for the safety of the hallway or their dormitories as the colorful projectiles whizzed into the air, bursting when it came into contact with the wall or someone's robes. Thankfully, no one seemed to be hurt just yet, but Harry slammed the door against the mayhem, heart hammering as he realized something.

Weasley. Today was the first of April, George and Fred's birthday. No wonder Ron seemed upset.

Someone knocked at the door, and Harry hurriedly opened it. Draco quickly came in, brushing soot off his shoulders. "You're still here?" He asked, patting his shiny hair to assess the damage.

"Uh, yeah. I was sleeping. Am I late?" Harry noticed a gray feather clinging to Draco's clothes, and he reached forward and plucked it off.

"Oh - thanks. No, I suppose not." Draco walked over to his nightstand, picking up a mirror and a comb.

"Where'd you go?"

"The Owlery." Draco ran the comb through his hair a few times, eyeing himself critically.

"Sending a letter?" Harry asked as he knelt by his trunk, rummaging for a clean uniform.

"No, just wanted to visit Athena." Satisfied, Draco put down the comb. "I know they've all got feeding trays, but it's more fun to do it myself."

"Ah, that's right, I forgot," Harry teased, "Scary Draco Malfoy loves small animals."

"You're impossible," Draco sighed, rolling his eyes. He moved away from his bed, leaning against the post of Harry's. "So what if I do?"

"Nothing, it's cute. Did I mention you look really nice today?" Harry added, batting his lashes.

Draco smirked and opened his mouth to reply, but a particularly loud scream from the common room made them both flinch. "I appreciate the sentiment, Potter, but you should hurry. It's quite hazardous out there." He placed a pale hand carefully on the doorknob, listening for any explosions on the other side.

"I'll be careful," Harry promised. "See you later, then."

Draco was absolutely right, of course; Harry had to perform some tricky maneuvering across the common room, ducking beneath blazing rocket trails and leaping to safety. He made it to the dungeon hallway mostly unscathed, flapping his sleeve to stop it from smoking.

In the dining hall, Harry spotted Ginny sitting at the Ravenclaw table next to Luna with a couple of other girls. From this distance, he couldn't tell whether Ginny was upset or not. Luna's arm was around her shoulder.

"Hey," Harry greeted softly as he approached. Ginny looked up in surprise. Her eyes were puffy. The two other Ravenclaws eyed him warily but returned to their breakfast when Ginny jerked her head, wordlessly inviting him to sit. "You all right?"

Ginny shrugged, her brown eyes swimming in dull melancholy. "Could be better," She sighed. "There were a couple of kids playing around with Weasley's stuff in the common room this morning. Reminded me of him, but…I guess he would have approved. Oh, I forgot," Ginny realized Harry hadn't met her companions yet, "This is Tabitha Nott and Cassandra Cheung. Tabs, Cass, this is Harry Potter."

"The Chosen One?" Cassandra, a bright-eyed, black-haired girl, reached her hand out. Harry took it a bit hesitatingly, and she shook his whole arm vigorously. Tabitha, a more reserved, bespectacled brunette, only nodded to him in recognition.

"Er, just Harry's fine," Harry said bashfully, rubbing his sore arm.

"Oh, sure, Just Harry," Cassandra giggled, "And please, call me Cass." She winked flirtatiously.

Ginny cleared her throat, pointedly. Luna piped up, "You know, Harry's got a b-"

Harry whacked the table with his open palm, making them jump. "Broomstick! Yes, I've got a broomstick. For, er, Quidditch. Yeah. Seeker." He loved Luna to bits, but she could be too honest sometimes. Luna mouthed oops and gave him an apologetic smile.

"Cool! I play Seeker, too."

"Oh…er, neat."

"We were just talking," Tabitha said, so quietly that Harry almost didn't hear her, "About Fred Weasley. Did you know him?"

"Did I know him?" Harry echoed. He remembered seven years ago, unsure of himself in the vastness of King's Cross, holding a nonsensical ticket and laden with possessions he hardly knew how to use. He'd heard Molly Weasley's voice first, cutting through the faceless crowd like a lighthouse beam of comfort, and seen the rest of the family, dressed in threadbare robes and holding beaten trunks. All six relatives seemed happy and carefree around each other, none of the children ever ducking for a scolding blow like Harry had at the Dursley's. They glowed with warmth and familiarity, Fred among them, teasing his siblings and his mother, reassuring his sister along with George. Unexpected tears pricked Harry's eyes as he realized, not for the first time, that the happy little unit would never again be whole. "Yes. He was a good friend of mine."

"Us, too," Tabitha sighed, she and Cass exchanging a doleful glance. "We didn't know him extremely well, but through Ginny."

"We were just talking about our favorite memories with him," Cassandra told Harry. "D'you want to share yours?"

"Oh... It'll be hard to pick only one." Harry stared at the ceiling, all the moments he'd shared with Fred and George blurring together in his mind. Practicing Quidditch with them, their welcome distractions during studious nights, snowball fights in the Hogwarts courtyard. As Harry learned to notice, Fred had been markedly different from his twin; a bit more sensitive, perhaps, and thoughtful towards him and Hermione, especially. Harry had often wondered if there'd been some sort of feelings between the two, one way or another, around fifth year. Perhaps the most memorable thing Harry could recall would be the time the twins gave him the Marauder's Map - a glance at Ginny, and he felt his face heat up when he remembered how he used to watch her on the Map on late nights in the tent, while still on the hunt for Horcruxes. He couldn't remember if she even knew about the Map, so he said, "I suppose…third year, he and George showed me how to sneak into Hogsmeade."

"Those two showed everyone to sneak around places," Cass said with a nostalgic grin. "The true heroes Hogwarts never knew it needed." Ginny smiled slightly at this.

Luna raised her glass of pumpkin juice. "To Fred Weasley," She said serenely, squeezing Ginny's shoulder.

"Fred Weasley," Four voices repeated, clinking their cups together.

The final few minutes of breakfast were spent in scattered, hushed conversation. Harry let the friends carry on, suddenly struck by how much he'd missed having company. Being around Draco was overall pleasant but exhausting at times. Harry found himself glancing across the hall at Ron and Hermione, who seemed engaged in similar discourse with Parvati, Dean, and Seamus. He missed them more than he could possibly articulate - if he'd let himself admit it.

When the warning bell rang, Luna gave Ginny a comforting kiss - chaste, and certainly nothing to be scandalized about, though full on the lips. Harry glanced worriedly at Cassandra and Tabitha, but they didn't bat an eye, which heartened him somewhat. He was glad that Ginny and Luna had found dependable, non-judgmental friends.

Draco was waiting at the foot of the stairwell when Harry entered the main hall. His nose was buried in some sort of Potions history book, and he didn't look up until Harry joined him. Together, they started up the stairs, and Draco dropped the volume into his satchel, openly adorned with the squid pin.

"Did you know Fred?" Harry asked suddenly, slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Weasley?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "Not well. My lot didn't really get along with his. Why do you ask?"

"Today was supposed to be his birthday," Harry said as they started up another flight. "Him and George."

"Ah." The silence felt awkward, and Harry nearly wished he hadn't brought up the subject, when Draco said, "Do you want to talk about it? Weren't you good friends with him?"

"Yes, I was, but… I'm fine. I was thinking-" A loud scraping noise and an almighty jerk beneath their feet caught Harry off balance, and he teetered on the edge of a step as the flight of stairs began to move, swinging to the opposite side of the building. Draco, smartly holding onto the banister, swiftly placed a hand on the small of Harry's back, steadying him. The touch filled Harry with warmth, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come, and Draco smoothly withdrew his hand, acting as if nothing had happened. "Thanks," Harry murmured, his voice hidden by the surprised screams and gasps of younger students as the staircase came to an abrupt halt.

"Mhm. You were saying?"

"I just wish I could talk to Ron about it," Harry confessed as they continued on their way, as calm and collected as the rest of the older students, who were used to the castle's many shenanigans. "He seemed down this morning."

"Then talk to him," Draco said matter-of-factly. "I don't see what's stopping you."

"You know things haven't been right between Ron and me since I told him and Hermione about us."

"So, fix it."

"It's not that simple. I'm mad at them too."

"Still?" Draco seemed confused. "Why?"

"What do you mean, 'why?' They're supposed to be my friends, and they completely tossed me the minute I brought you into the equation."

"I dunno, Potter. That seems reasonable. I'd be mad if my friends dated someone like me, too," Draco said pensively. "I'm awful."

"Don't say that," Harry said quietly, resting a hand on Draco's arm. The Slytherin glanced furtively around the hall out of habit, but he didn't pull away.

"I simply meant from their perspective," Draco amended, flustered. "Can't we discuss this later?"

Someone's eyes burned on the back of his neck, distracting Harry, and he turned abruptly to see Hermione and Ron. Caught off guard, he didn't answer Draco's question, only watched as Hermione met his gaze, something like guilt glimmering in her eyes as Ron, next to her, pointedly stared straight ahead.

"Yes, then," Draco decided in Harry's silence, and Hermione looked away. The volume of Harry's classmates' chatter rose in his ears as he felt himself moving towards the Charms classroom.

Had Hermione been trying to get his attention? As the weeks passed, Hermione had seemed to focus on her schoolwork and her relationship with Ron. Harry thought she'd moved on. So why did she look at him like that, like she had something more to say?

You've made your decision, Harry thought as he settled into his seat, glancing at Hermione from across the room. You and Ron both. Don't pretend like you want anything to do with me anymore.

Harry's silent words couldn't cross the vast expanse between him and his fellow Gryffindors, but he thought them anyway. He bent his head over his parchment as Flitwick lectured, removing Hermione and Ron from his mind. Quill in hand, Draco's warmth beside him, Harry let himself pretend that he didn't miss them, for just a little while longer.

• • •

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

The rush of students, the indiscernible murmurs, the curious eyes that gave a once-over to the Chosen One and ex-Death Eater standing side by side. Harry couldn't blame Draco for being apprehensive, for hesitating in the doorway. He didn't give an answer right away, and Draco didn't wait for one.

"They're not stupid," He murmured, silver gaze swishing back and forth like a predator's. "We shouldn't be together so often. I mean…" He bit his lip. "I know I said I'm ready, but this is too much, too fast."

"We just need to blend in," Harry said comfortingly. He didn't feel brave enough to hold Draco's hand, so he reached out with his voice instead. "Some people around here are nicer than you think."

"Not to me." Draco sounded firm, and Harry was about to argue until he said, "But fine. I trust you. What's the plan, then?"

"Follow me." Ever since that morning, Harry had recognized a void in their lives, a space Ron and Hermione could no longer fill. The solution simply fell into his mind during class, and he kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner. Who else would take in the most hated student in all of Hogwarts?

Draco gave his boyfriend a skeptical look as they skirted the Hufflepuff table. "You know any Hufflepuffs?"

"Not really," Harry admitted, but then they both spotted three familiar faces.

Five students looked up as Draco and Harry drew near, the former standing cautiously behind the latter. Padma Patil and Gavin Laurent eyed them suspiciously, though Owen Ibori tried for a warm smile. The other two, younger students in yellow robes, glanced between their peers and the newcomers, assessing the situation.

"Er, hi," Harry addressed them, hands in his pockets. "Could we…sit with you?"

"No problem," Owen nodded at the others, who shifted around to make room. Padma and Gavin exchanged a knowing glance that Harry couldn't quite decipher, but he wasn't sure he liked it. "Um, you both know Gavin and Padma. But I don't believe you've met Erin and Oliver?"

"Call me Ollie," Corrected one Hufflepuff boy, his grin full of lime-green braces and a ballpoint pen poking out from behind his ear, nearly covered by a mop of dark hair. Harry guessed he was Muggleborn. "Valdez, sixth year. Harry Potter, of course. And it's Malfoy, right?" He spoke rapidly, sticking out a sun-dark hand for two hasty shakes from each young man.

"Yes," Draco said slowly. "I suppose you've heard of me, then."

"Definitely," Ollie said, his smile unfading and tone casual. He didn't elaborate.

"I'm Erin." The Hufflepuff girl, with long waves of auburn hair and curious, ocean-colored eyes, gave a friendly wave. "I've seen you two 'round with Weasley, Ginny, I mean. We're kinda friends." Her voice unfurled with a tinge of an Irish brogue.

"Ah." Unsure of how to respond, Harry folded his hands in his lap. Next to him, Draco crossed his legs and arms; he was just as anxious.

"I haven't really seen much of you this year, Potter," Padma said conversationally, leaning forward. Her iciness from fourth year, after Harry abandoned her sister at the Yule Ball, seemed to have faded completely. Harry couldn't help but notice how she spoke only to him, eyes skating over Draco as if avoiding a particularly embarassing piece of furniture. "What brings you over here?"

"Change of pace," Harry replied, shrugging, and hoping she wouldn't mention Ron and Hermione.

"And what are you doing here?" Gavin asked, his icy blue eyes narrowing at Draco.

"Potter and I are friends," He replied smoothly, and Gavin's eyebrows raised in surprise.

Erin glanced between them, sensing hostility, and interjected, "Ollie was about to start the next story, weren't you?" The Hufflepuff boy nodded hard and fast.

"A story?" Harry repeated, perplexed. "About what?"

"The plot changes every night," Owen replied as he stabbed a stalk of broccoli. "It's a game we play. Someone starts by saying 'once upon a time,' and we take turns until we reach the end. Each person gets a maximum of two sentences. The story has to be interesting, but it has to end at the last person or else…" He stopped, eyes widening spookily, and bit into the broccoli.

"Or else…?"

"We 'lose,'" Padma said, making air-quotes. "Nothing actually happens if we don't make it. What's our tally, Ollie?"

"fifty-three wins, eighteen loses, and twelve ties," Oliver recited.

"Ties?" Draco cut in, and a couple of the students jumped, forgetting that the Slytherin had been there all along. "How does one tie in this…game?" Harry shot him a sideways glance, recognizing the strangled politeness in his voice. As much as he loved Draco, he knew he had a mean streak a kilometer wide. Sitting with five strangers, two of whom were children, wasn't helping Draco keep his knee-jerk contempt in check.

"It only happens when we don't get to a proper end, but it could be an ending with a little imagination," Erin answered, which seemed a little vague to Harry. "Anyhow, seven is the most people we've had to play, so I think we'll come up with something really exciting. Go on, Ollie."

Oliver clasped his hands and closed his eyes. Draco exchanged a questioning look with Harry, but the rest watched Ollie and waited patiently for him to speak.

"Once upon a time, there was a poppy who lived in the desert. It hadn't rained in the desert for a thousand years, and the poppy was very thirsty." Oliver opened his eyes and nodded to Erin.

"The poppy felt angry and bitter because he had to keep growing without any water. He turned poisonous and cursed every traveler that touched him." Erin looked at Owen.

"One day, a bird flew over the desert and dropped a seed next to the poisonous flower. A rose grew there."

"The rose came from a land of lush plants and sparkling waterfalls," said Padma. "She pitied the poppy for having to grow in such a harsh environment."

"The poppy was jealous of the beautiful rose and hated it. But…" Gavin paused, thinking. "The rose had never known hate, so she chose to be the poppy's friend."

The five storytellers turned to Draco, who tensed at the attention on him. "All his life, the poppy had known bitterness and discomfort." He hesitated, and Harry nodded encouragingly. "But the rose whispered only sweetness to him, and slowly she made him happier."

Scarlet petals caressed the heat-stricken air. Poison seeped from a flower's heart into the sand, turning it sulfurous yellow; grains blew away in the wind. Beneath the dining hall's starry sky, a desert loomed white and massive, two blooms conversing in its center. Funny how a mere game could create a mini-universe - that was the thought in Harry's mind as he continued, quietly, "Eventually, the rose convinced the poppy to bless the travelers and the earth he lived in." Owen, Padma, Gavin, Erin, and Oliver leaned in to hear the last line. "Their love soon brought water back to the lifeless desert, and it became a beautiful oasis." Draco's lips moved into the shadow of a smile. Beneath the table, his right hand drifted, and Harry took it.

"The end," Ollie concluded, satisfied. "And we got a happy ending this time! How fortunate."

"That was a good setup," Erin told him, reaching for the mashed potatoes. Just like that, the spell was broken, and dinner moved on as usual. Harry thought Draco might let go of him, but the Slytherin deftly scooped buttered peas with his left hand as if he'd been ambidextrous all his life.

"And a nice finish," Owen added, beaming at both Harry and Draco. "You think you'll be joining us again tomorrow?"

"Yeah." Harry exchanged a look with Draco, knowing he felt the same way he did: safe, among people who hopefully wouldn't judge them for secrets yet to be revealed. "I think we will."