That weekend was the first Hogsmeade trip of the school year. Draco, of course, was not allowed to leave Hogwarts grounds and Harry didn't particularly feel like going - especially since it meant the castle would be relatively empty. Blaise and Pansy promised to bring back sweets and Butterbeers, anyway.

Harry hadn't spoken to Ron or Hermione since his explosion or since Draco's letter. Sometimes he was sure that he felt one or both of them staring at him, but they were always looking away when he looked over. He missed them sorely, there was a constant ache in his chest that had nothing to do with his explosion or depleted magic, but everything to do with the friends who currently weren't speaking to him. Either way, it was another reason to avoid Hogsmeade.

Of course, since she had gone to Hogsmeade, it meant that Harry wouldn't get to talk to Pansy quite yet. But then again - it wasn't as though their disastrous government was going to be doing anything majorly horrific over the weekend anyways. But either way, Harry had plans - and plans to rope Draco into his plans.

Which was why, at this specific moment in time, he was tugging a reluctant Draco through the corridors of Hogwarts.

"Whatever is going on is happening on the pitch? But it's not quidditch?" Draco asked him for the thousandth time since they had left the seventh year dorms.

"Yes," Harry said emphatically. "Honestly you're worse than the first years."

He had meant to needle Draco about his incessant line of questioning, but Draco merely raised an eyebrow. "And does this scheme have anything to do with those first years?"

Harry thought for a moment. "You'll have to wait and find out, I suppose," he said finally.

Draco didn't have to wait long. The moment they stepped out of the castle into the yard, Mar was upon them. She was alone this time, no horde of first year Slytherins were following her. Harry wasn't particularly surprised. Sometimes she seemed quite popular with the other Slytherins, and other times it seemed as though they gave her a wide berth. He wasn't sure, though, whether she preferred to be alone or not. It was strange to see how the other kids interacted with her, sometimes - he still was unable to figure out if she actually enjoyed being alone, or if sometimes the others were avoidant of her. Or both, perhaps.

"Did you tell him yet?" She practically shrieked, tugging on Harry's hand to get them to walk faster. Draco raised a delicate, questioning eyebrow at Harry.

"I haven't," Harry said to Mar. "Don't spoil it."

"Okay," the girl groaned theatrically. "But hurry up, everyone's already waiting!"

"Everyone?" Draco asked Harry, eyebrows high into his forehead.

Harry just shrugged. "Well, I couldn't very well leave them out," he gestured toward Mar and then farther, to where the Quidditch pitch was coming into view.

"Did you invite everyone who couldn't go to Hogsmeade, Potter?" Draco asked mulishly. Or it sounded mulish, but Harry thought mostly that Draco was actually nervous about being around so many children at once.

"Just the first and second years," Harry said. "Anyone older and it would be unfair. Not to mention we need a lot of players."

The pitch was already set up for them, some boundary lines charmed onto the grass. A large set of goal posts had made their appearance, too. Minerva had gotten them from somewhere - or maybe transfigured them, Harry hadn't asked.

"Football?" Draco asked musingly. "That's what you brought me outside at this horrid hour of the day to play?"

Harry huffed. Although he tried to hide it, Draco's mouth was shaped into a half-smile. "I'm surprised you recognize the sport," he said.

Draco's mouth turned downward into a frown. "I learned about it over the summer. We aren't playing though, are we?"

"Of course we are," Harry said. They were close enough now for the smattering of students to notice them.

"You have to play, Draco," Mar said with wide eyes. "Harry said it's part of our History of Magic mark, and if we don't play we won't pass the class."

"Oh, really?" Draco said, amused grin back on his face. "Harry could make sure I fail?"

"I could, Malfoy." Harry meant it to be a joke, but the words came out a little too harshly and Draco's eyes darkened just a little too much. Interesting - he'd have to explore that later.

"Alright," Harry said, giving his hands a clap. Draco flinched at the noise, but the first and second years gathered around. "Everyone who was raised by wizards is going to partner with someone raised by muggles. Your partner will teach you the rules of football and some basic skills."

"Will your partner be Draco?" a second year girl, Emily, asked. Harry didn't quite like the look she gave Draco - not hostile, more like she thought he was...cute.

"Yes," Harry said. "He'll be my partner, and once he's got the hang of it we'll walk around and make sure everyone else is doing alright. After lunch we'll play a big game."

"FIRST YEARS VERSUS SECOND YEARS," someone from the back of the small crowd hollered, which started up a round of shouts and jeers.

"If that's what you'd like," Harry said mildly. "But for now, get into your partners and start practicing."

There were footballs in a bag at the centre of the field. Most of the kids ran for it, others spreading out across the field to find space.

"You didn't tell me this would be all day," Draco groused.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Harry responded immediately. "Have somewhere better to be, Malfoy?" He tried to keep his tone light and playful. Draco hadn't said anything, but Harry was quite sure he was disappointed about not going to Hogsmeade. On one hand, it was just Hogsmeade, but on the other it was sort of a symbol of freedom. Freedom that Draco didn't have.

"Perhaps I do," Draco quipped back.

His tone had lost some of its initial bite.

"You'd fail history, you know," Harry said lightly. He tugged on the end of Draco's hair gently. "Can't have that."

"Maybe the professor would be so kind as to offer extra tutoring." Draco was staring at Harry with an intensity that made Harry want to drag him back to his room and snog him senseless. In fact, the only thing stopping him from dropping everything and doing that right now was the horde of young students playing football around them.

Instead, Harry lifted a hand to squeeze the small of Draco's back before letting go. "I don't know how Professor Binns would feel about any...activities you'd have lined up," he said to diffuse the tension. It worked - Draco huffed out a surprised laugh.

"Funny, Potter," he said, but then he was jogging away from Harry to grab a football from the middle of the field. "I hope you actually know how to play this sport," he added as he jogged back, ball in hand.

"It's been a few years," said Harry sheepishly. "But you definitely don't hold the ball in your hands like that."

Draco rolled his eyes and threw the ball along the grass to Harry, almost in a bowling motion. Maybe that was the sport they should all try next - Harry made a mental note to ask McGonagall about it.

Draco, athletic prick that he was, picked up football quickly. He was deft with his feet, especially for someone who spent years playing a sport in which they primarily used their hands. And a broomstick.

"So no one bats anything at you? At all?" Draco asked for what must have been the twentieth time. Harry glowered and kicked the ball at his stomach, but Draco deftly absorbed it and let the ball drop to his feet. "There's only one ball?"

"Hard as it may be for you to believe," Harry said, "there's only one ball, and no bats."

"There's a sport muggles play with bats, though," Draco said next, as if Harry were a particularly slow student.

"Yes," Harry said patiently. "A few."

"We should play one," Draco responded, "See which of these children could shape up into good Beaters."

"The point of this is that it's supposed to be a muggle sport," Harry responded, but he did make a mental note that they could also play cricket.

He and Draco split ways after that, weaving in and out between the students - Harry found himself helping Mar and Jason who were, as usual, passionately arguing.

"That's not a rule!" Jason was practically yelling at Mar.

"It is, I swear," she was arguing back. Mar even stamped her foot for good effect.

"It's called football, no one can use their hands. You're lying," he said angrily. His arms were crossed against his chest defensively.

This was probably the time Harry should intervene, but there was something just slightly funny about their whole interaction. There usually was, though, when it came to Mar interacting with her peers.

Mar must have finally noticed his presence, because she spun on her heel to face him. "Tell him the goalies can use their hands, Harry!"

Jason looked up at him, hands still crossed defiantly. "She's lying, right?" he asked stubbornly. Harry felt sort of bad that he was about to let him down.

"She's not lying," Harry said. "That's the only position that can use their hands, just like beaters are the only ones that can use bats in Quidditch."

"Told you so," Mar gloated cheerfully. Jason just huffed at her. Harry took that as his cue to move on.

Most of the kids seemed to be having fun, although not all. Draco was across the field, looking panicked as he attended a Ravenclaw first year that had scraped his knee. He got the boy up after a moment, though, and the boy resumed playing. Harry laughed at the look of relief on Draco's face, but hastily looked away before Draco could catch him looking.

"You're not teaching sports without inviting me, are you?" Ginny's voice came from behind him, causing Harry to startle and jump. She rolled her eyes at him, but gestured across the field, to where Luna was apparently descending on Draco.

"Does Luna know anything about football?" Harry asked.

"Oh yeah," Ginny said solemnly, her brown eyes twinkling. "She's checking all of the balls for nargles right now."

Harry just shook his head. He jogged away from Ginny for a moment to gently kick a football back to a couple second year Hufflepuffs that had lost theirs.

"Everyone combine groups," he shouted to the students. "Find one other group of two and join to create a group of four. I want you to play keep-away. Your group will try to keep the ball away from the other group and try to get it back if you've lost it. Remember the rules you've learned so far, help each other out if there are any knowledge gaps!"

He watched as the groups excitedly dissolved and reformed into bigger groups, arguing over which ball to use and who would get to start with the ball. He figured he'd leave them to it. Draco had been cornered by Luna, but somehow they were actually passing a football back and forth between them. He saw Draco laugh, and then the other boy met his eyes and gave him a bemused shrug which Harry returned.

"Rumour has it you blew up," Ginny said as he walked back over to her.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Why is everyone phrasing it like that?"

"Because you blew up." Ginny laughed and flicked her hair out of her face. She raised one hand to shade her eyes so that she could look up at him - not that she had to look far, there was no longer much of a height difference between them at all.

"I did," Harry said, finally. In the Days Before he would never have been able to admit it - the gossip would have driven him insane, even if it was true. But now, in the Days After, he had little energy to expend for others opinions of him.

"Ron feels horrid," Ginny added, because of course that's where this conversation was headed.

Harry kicked the grass under his feet to avoid answering for a moment. "Hasn't said anything to me, has he?"

Ginny just shrugged. "He will," she said.

They were interrupted, as usual, by Mar running up to them. "You're Ginny Weasley," she said, grinning broadly as if she were answering a particularly hard question in class.

"I am, yeah," Ginny said. She glanced toward Hary, but all he could do was shrug in response. It wasn't as though Mar was predictable, not to anyone, really.

"Is it true that the Hollyhead Harpies are coming to watch your game against Slytherin next week?" Mar was bouncing up and down on her toes. She did it a lot when she was excited, Harry had noticed. Sometimes, in class, she bounced on her seat instead.

Ginny gave the small girl a wide grin. "I like her," she stage-whispered to Harry, before bending down in front of Mar. "It's very true," she said, solemnly. "But it's bad luck to talk about it before the match."

Mar nodded solemnly at Ginny. "I won't say anything," she said. "They're my favourite team."

"You don't even know anything about Quidditch," Jason piped up. He had clearly been listening in from where their game of keep-away had paused when Mar approached Ginny.

"Do too," Mar added angrily. "You don't know anything about football, anyway."

"You only like the Harpies because they're girls," Jason said. He glared at Mar from his position a few steps away, but didn't come any closer.

"So?" Mar said. "You only like the Tornadoes because of Oliver Wood." She turned from Ginny, as if forgetting she had even been standing there in the first place. Her fingers were tapping her collarbone again - it was oddly predictable, in a way, the strange things that Mar did.

The two continued to bicker even as they went back to playing.

"Are they always like that?" Ginny asked. She was watching them with a fond look on her face, almost.

"All the time," Harry said with a sigh. "It's a nightmare during class."

Ginny laughed and then she was off, inserting herself into games of keep-away and challenging the children to get the ball from her. Despite the fact that she had no clue what she was doing, she picked it up quickly - just like Draco, the prats.

The day truly was one of the better ideas Harry had thought of. The house elves brought them lunch from the kitchens when they needed a break and then they played proper games well into the evenings. By the end, the children were chattering excitedly about starting a football league at Hogwarts. Harry pretended he didn't hear, resolving to make it a problem for McGonagall later if that was truly what they wanted.

He was in a good mood that evening, approaching the castle hand-in-hand with Draco, Ginny and Luna on his other side. They had stayed through the rest of the day, the first and second years thrilled and awestruck by both girls in equal measure.

"We should do that every Hogsmeade weekend," Ginny said, elbowing Harry in the ribs. "Much more fun than the village, honestly."

"I was thinking different sports every time, actually," Harry said. "They get flying classes, so why not muggle sports, too?"

Draco groaned theatrically beside him. "Surely you won't make me learn even more games with those beasts?" It was good natured, of course - if anyone loved spending time with the small ones more than Harry, it was Draco.

When the group of four entered the eighth year common room together, Harry could swear that every single head turned to face them. Ginny held her head up, Draco seemed to shrink onto himself. Luna seemed unbothered but had also left Ginny's side to appear on Draco's other side so that they were flanked by the girls.

Ginny and Luna followed them to Harry and Blaise's room without question. As they entered the corridor leading to the dormitories, Harry could hear the noise in the common room pick up again. Draco relaxed, once they were no longer under everyone's gaze.

"That wasn't very kind," Luna said to nobody in particular. Harry thought that was the understatement of the year. "Are they always like that?"

Draco just shrugged, so Harry answered for him. "Not as bad, it's probably because you're here."

Ginny just smirked at him. "Well I am worth staring at." The surprised snort that came from Draco was almost worth the whole ordeal.

Pansy was lounging on Harry's bed when they entered the room, on her back with a book propped up by a spell so she could read without holding it. Blaise was bent over his desk, quill scribbling away.

"Nice of you to join us," Pansy said. If she was startled by the presence of Ginny and Luna she didn't say so.

"You could have joined us," Draco said in response. He let Harry drag him to Draco's empty bed and arrange themselves on the pillows - or rather, so that Draco was leaning on the pillows and Harry was using his stomach as a pillow. Luna dropped to the floor, pulling out an issue of The Quibbler. Ginny stood for a moment, then shrugged and dropped onto Harry's bed at Pansy's feet.

"I don't run, darling," Pansy drawled. Harry threw a pillow at her.

There must have been some tension in the room before that, because even though Harry hadn't felt the tension, he felt it diffuse when Pansy caught the pillow and laughed. Blaise leaned back from his desk, turning the chair to face them.

It was like they had been friends all along.

It was almost enough for Harry to forget about every single thing that was going wrong. Every single part of the Days After that made him wish he had stayed in the hands of Death that night at Kings Cross. But only almost.