A/N: Whoa! Slightly overwhelmed right now. Coming back from two and a half years of writer's block and chucking out a 4k chapter in the span of just a few days (save for the first 400 words, which have been ready for literal years, the entirety of this chapter was written in around a week!) is more than I expected when I cautiously announced that this fic was gonna make a comeback... I'm glad there's still people subscribed to this fic waiting for updates, please do leave a review, it'd mean the world to me!

'That's it', Harry muttered, pushing away the stack of papers in front of him. 'Slughorn must really hate me.'

'Yeah', Ron added, 'what with you being one of his favourites. You still got it better than the rest of us.' He too packed away his homework. 'Take a last look at Charms? Hermione's promised she'd help me with the last few paragraphs if the rest was good enough.'

'No', Harry declined. 'I… IpromisedMalfoyIdpracticeforDADAwithhimtoday.'

'Uh… come again?'

Harry straightened his back and steeled himself for the inevitable fit that was to come, 'I promised Malfoy I'd practice for DADA with him. Today.'

'Yeah, sure', Ron snorted disbelievingly. 'And what are you really doing?' An amused grin appeared on the ginger's face. 'You're not sneaking off to see someone, are you, mate?'

'Of course I am', Harry jokingly agreed, unsure whether Ron was actually serious or not. 'I'll, uh, I'll go now.'

'Have fun on your date!', Ron called after him, and Harry had never before been so glad for an empty common room. He really didn't want to know how his best friend would react if he'd stay to explain that he was actually serious. As long as Ron believed he was actually seeing someone, he wouldn't have a reason to throw a fit. Harry really didn't need any more of the redhead's feud against Malfoy right now.

However, his nervousness faded into the background when he reached the corner of the school grounds where he and Malfoy had agreed to meet for their practice. It was a rather secluded spot, mostly hidden from the castle's view behind an extension of the Forbidden Forest.

Malfoy was already there, practising spells, accompanied by what was obviously a Patronus, moving around him with elegance. As Harry approached, the blonde Slytherin halted in his movements, curiously eyeing the Gryffindor as he walked up to him.

'Uh… hi', Harry awkwardly stuttered, not knowing what he was supposed to say. Despite their study sessions and his intent to befriend the other boy, he had no idea whether that meant for them. Blimey, he didn't even know whether they were on first names now. Draco. Somehow, thinking of his former arch enemy like that sounded weird in his head.

'Potter. Eloquent as ever, I see', Malfoy greeted, and right, that sounded more like the Malfoy Harry knew.

'Err… right', Harry cleared his throat. 'So. Um. DADA. Where do we start?'

The former Death Eater raised his eyebrows. 'I thought you might be able to tell me that. You know, since it was you who insisted that an exercise session was required.'

'Practice duel, then?', Harry suggested.

He regretted it shortly after, because duelling Malfoy was, unsurprisingly, quite challenging. If two years ago anybody had told him he would cross wands with the Slytherin without harmful intent, he would have laughed in their face—in fact, this was the second ever time the two of them were sparring, if the disastrous Duelling club during their Second Year even counted—, yet here they were. Unwanted memories from the battle emerged, and he pushed them aside, barely avoiding a Stupefy from Malfoy before quickly firing off a few hexes himself and casting a shield.

The blonde was a tough opponent, and Harry found that he enjoyed breaking a sweat over trying to evade his spells and trying to find a weak point in his defences. In a way, it reminded him of the DA's training sessions during Fifth Year, although in this case, Malfoy was meeting him eye-level, unlike his classmates at the time, who had been woefully uneducated. From what he could tell, Malfoy was, while maybe not enjoying himself, more at ease than usual, a focused expression replacing the brooding usually at home in his features.

Harry had to admit surrender after an intense ten minutes when Malfoy managed to sneak a tripping hex past a sloppily cast shield charm and sent him flying into the grass with his wand out of reach. Had the Slytherin been reluctant at first, his face was now but a textbook example of triumph as he handed the Gryffindor his wand back, even generously extending a hand to help him up. Malfoy's hands were warmer than expected, Harry noticed, unlike the Slytherin's seemingly bloodless, cold appearance.

They didn't waste any time though, and within moments, the duel began anew, a mix if yelled incantations filling the otherwise silent air. This time, Harry emerged victorious, his trademark Expelliarmus flinging Malfoy's wand out of his hand, and—

'POTTER! MALFOY!'

Across the lawn, Professor Jones was storming their way, wand in hand. 'Away from each other! Now! And put your wands down this instant!'

'Professor', Harry began, but was immediately cut off.

'I will not have any fights on my watch, Mr Potter. If you and Mr Malfoy have a disagreement, and believe me, I am fully aware of your history of ongoing dislike for each other, I suggest you behave like adults and not try to hex each other's heads off.'

Only then did it dawn on him what this had to look like to an outsider. Of course. The teacher had to assume they were fighting.

'Professor, Ma'am, it's not really what it looks like', he was pretty sure he could hear Malfoy snigger at his choice of words, 'we weren't fighting.'

'Please, Mr Potter. I may be a teacher, but I'm neither blind nor deaf.'

'What Potter is trying to say', Malfoy chimed in, 'is that our mighty saviour here and I were practising for our Defence homework, Professor.'

'What Malfoy says', Harry awkwardly confirmed.

The teacher frowned, eyeing them both in suspicion, before heaving an exasperated sigh.

'I think it's best if we take this matter to the headmistress.'

'Mr Potter. Have a biscuit.'

By now, Harry knew better than to refuse, so he patiently started chewing away at the dough while Professor McGonagall finished up the paperwork in front of her, before turning her attention to him.

'From what Professor Jones told me, she intervened during what appeared to be a duel between you and Mr Malfoy. Is that correct?'

'Yes, Professor.'

'And I further understand that both you and Mr Malfoy assured her that you were, in fact, not fighting, but rather practising?' If she had trouble believing his account, her voice betrayed none of it, only putting the slightest emphasis on practice.

'Yes, Professor.'

'Mr Potter, I would like to ask you to be honest with me about this. Your… rivalry with Mr Malfoy is far from a secret, as I'm sure you're aware, and I think everyone here would appreciate it if this year would pass without any major incidents in this regard.' She adjusted the glasses on her nose before continuing. 'These are trying times for all of us, Potter, and I think now might be a good time to put your and Mr Malfoy's little feud to rest.'

His 'I know!' came out a little louder than appropriate. 'But that's what we're doing, Professor!' The headmistress raised an eyebrow and he lowered his voice again. 'Sorry. We're not fighting, Professor. He's changed, I think. We've been studying together a few times', alright a little more than a few times, 'he's helped me with potions homework and I've helped him with Defence, it's really not like it used to, Professor.'

Harry thought this might possibly be the first time he had seen Professor McGonagall positively speechless.

'I'm impressed, Mr Potter', she finally managed. 'Would you mind enlightening me about how this change of heart came to be?'

He shrugged. 'I don't know, Professor.' To be fair, he couldn't really pinpoint it himself. 'I think… he's not really the same…', great, now he was stuttering, 'I mean, the war, he changed, I think. And I kinda owe him, when we got—'

'I read your testimony, Mr Potter', the teacher interrupted him. 'No need to dwell on the past.'

Harry shrugged. 'I just think he changed.'

He was fairly certain Professor McGonagall could sense he wasn't telling her everything, but he really didn't want to bring up his dreams now. Not when he wasn't certain himself how they had to do with this.

'Fine, then', she sighed. 'I congratulate you on your ability to overcome your hostility, Mr Potter. Now, if you would be so kind to tell Mr Malfoy that I will see him now on your way out?'

'Of course, Professor.'

'Good afternoon, Mr Potter.'

Confused, Harry left her office, passing Malfoy on the way out and gesturing for him to enter. It was impossible to tell what Professor McGonagall thought about the situation, so he pushed those thoughts aside for the time being.

During dinner, Harry found himself glancing at the Slytherin table a lot. He hadn't waited up for Malfoy to come back and he hadn't exactly expected the Slytherin to tell him what the headmistress had talked to him about, but that didn't help keep his curiosity under control. Of course, he had no reason to assume that it was anything else than the bury-your-rivalry lecture she had intended to make him sit through.

'Harry, mate, you alright?'

Right. Count on Ron to interrupt his overthinking. Absent-mindedly, Harry shook his head and returned his attention to his plate, almost stabbing his hand instead of the food as his thoughts lingered on Malfoy.

'OI! GINNY! RON!' A yelling Seamus startled him once again, and if disapproving looks from teachers could kill, Seamus would have been but a smoking heap of ash on the floor.

'First Quidditch match of the season', the Irishman panted as he came to a halt at the Gryffindor table. 'Just in, heard it from Lee, he got it from Flitwick who overhard McGonagall talking about it.' Without missing a breath, he continued, 'Slytherin against Gryffindor, right after the holidays!'

The table erupted into cheers and cries of battle. Someone next to Harry yelled something in the general direction of the Slytherin table and Harry followed their gaze to find the Slytherins equally riled up—Seamus wasn't known for speaking quietly and more or less the entire hall had overheard his excited announcement. Yells of threats and mockery filled the air, with one person from the rivalling house mostly unbothered. Malfoy was hunched over his bowl, munching away at his dinner in a way that Harry could only describe as uncaring.

'Enough!', the magically amplified voice of Professor McGonagall boomed through the hall.

'That will be enough', the witch repeated once the commotion had calmed. 'Since Mr Finnigan was so kind to inform us about the upcoming Quidditch matches', her eyes made it more than clear that Seamus would have to answer for that, 'I would like to confirm that the first match of the new season will indeed take place at the beginning of the new year. The heads of houses have worked out an abridged schedule to ensure that a proper competition can be held despite the shorter season.' She fell quiet for a moment before adding, 'We will inform you about the details at a later date. I am confident that no more information will be prematurely revealed.'

She sat down. 'Thank you. Please, enjoy your meals, as you were. Quietus.'

The Gryffindor table spent the rest of the dinner discussing strategies and possible outcomes of the match. Harry exchanged a knowing glance with Hermione, who in return rolled her eyes at him and did her best to hide her boredom while Ron was loudly arguing with Ginny. Harry half-heartedly participated in the speculations before excusing himself early to head back to the common room.

He hadn't come very far when he heard someone catching up to him, turning out to be Ginny. They walked in silence for a few minutes before she spoke up.

'I heard McGonagall summoned you earlier.' It was a statement, not a question. He didn't bother ask how she knew. The Hogwarts rumour mill was its own kind of magic. He made a somewhat affirmative noise.

'You didn't mention it.' That was true, he hadn't.

'i didn't think it was important.'

'Mmhmm. So?'

He sighed. 'Look, it's really nothing.'

'Harry…', he had a feeling he might not like what was coming, 'it wouldn't happen to have to do with your… potion issues?'

'What are you on about, no!' Out of all things she could have said, this was the one he had been expecting the least.

'I'm just saying, if there is something, anything, that we ought to know', she sighed, obviously misunderstanding his defensive tone, 'look, I understand this is hard for you. But you have to try, Harry. Trying to cheat and feed this, this addiction just to cope, that's not what you should be doing.'

'That's not what it was about!', Harry exclaimed, louder than intended. 'Alright, if you gotta know? Jones caught Malfoy and I training for Defence and thought we were fighting and McGonagall thought she had to lecture me about friendship, except we're already trying to get along!' He was yelling at this point. 'And before you give me the whole overcome-your-anger bollocks too, save your breath, alright? We've been studying and doing homework together and whatnot so if everyone could just get off my back about it when I'm already putting in effort to get along with him, that would be really great.' He took a deep breath. 'Thanks. Now if you could—'

'Uhm… Harry, mate?'

Harry spun around and oh great, apparently, at some point during his fit, he had failed to notice Ron and Hermione walking up the corridor and judging by the look on Ron's face, here came a conversation he really wasn't in the mood to have right now.

'I'm sorry, but I'm sure you didn't just say you're trying to befriend Malfoy, right?', Ron slowly said, putting as much spite into the word 'Malfoy' as possible. 'You didn't say that, did you.'

Harry slumped in defeat. 'Can we at least have this discussion some place less public?'

The last thing he needed was some overly talkative ghost listening in on them.

A few minutes and one Muffliato charm later, Harry found himself interrogated by his friends in the Eighth Year's dorm.

'Look, it's obvious he's mad!', an upset Ron argued. 'Friends! With bloody Malfoy! Does that sound like the Harry we know? Maybe he's been hit with an Imperius, or, I don't know', he turned to face Harry, 'did you drink anything funny? Anything like that?'

'Oh shut up Ron', Hermione intervened. 'Never mind him, Harry, he's just ranting and he knows it.' Her face took on a concerned expression. 'But I too would appreciate an explanation. I'd thought you were cleverer than to', she hesitated, 'thoughtlessly go around making friends with Death Eaters.'

'He's not a Death Eater!', Harry protested.

'See? Completely nuts!', Ron declared from where he was sulking. 'We gotta get him to Madam Pomfrey or, I dunno, St Mungo's or something!'

'Well at least I don't hate people for the sake of hate!', Harry shot back. 'Unlike certain wizards I could name who only know how to argue with their fists!'

'Shut up, both of you', Hermione repeated. 'Look, Harry, I didn't say anything when you insisted on vouching for Malfoy for the Ministry', she hadn't needed to, Harry remembered, because back then, Ron had bemoaned his decision more than enough already, 'and I trust Professor McGonagall's judgement, but… I just think you should be careful, alright? Don't throw your caution out the window just because Malfoy did the right thing once in seven years. You owe him nothing, and he's still dangerous and a criminal.'

She left the dorm, Ron in tow, the redhead seemingly considering to protest but ultimately keeping silent, leaving Harry alone with Ginny.

'So… Malfoy, eh?' She contemplated her own words for a moment. 'Just take care, alright? Stronger people than you have gotten hurt like this.' She followed Hermione and Ron, a puzzled Harry trying to understand her words.

'Ah, Mr Potter! Excellent essay, I knew I could count on your extraordinary talent for potions! Take ten points for Gryffindor! One day, I'm sure we will all feel blessed to have met one of the best students I have…'

Draco rolled his eyes while Potter showered in Slughorn's seemingly never-ending praise. His essay was far better than what Potter had managed to produce with the help of Draco's tutoring, but of course Saint Potter got all the spotlight, as usual. Draco couldn't it find in himself to come up with a bitter remark, instead slipping his own, A-graded essay—an S if it hadn't been Slughorn's bias, no doubt—into his bag.

Two rows over, he could hear Weasley complaining to Granger. It was something along the lines of 'cheating' and 'bloody sniffling Malfoy brat' and 'it's not fair just because he kissed Snape's arse' and whatnot. Apparently Potter had told his friends about their studying arrangement. Draco frowned, not having expected it, but nevertheless allowing himself a satisfied grin at the Weasel's obvious jealousy, even opting to ignore the blood traitor's comments about Severus.

The lesson became boring shortly afterwards, with the usual amount of chatter between students as everyone tended to their potions. The draughts they were preparing had been maturing for two whole weeks now and Draco's notes on the progress he'd been making were almost four feet by now. Next to him, Finnigan and Thomas were hunched over a cauldron, panically trying to figure out what was wrong with their brew and across the room, Potter was stirring the contents of his own cauldron.

Someone walked past Draco, pushing against him. He didn't have to turn his head to know it was one of his fellow Slytherins as he struggled to keep his balance, almost dropping his quill into the potion. Just earlier, he'd found the pages of his Transfiguration book ripped out across his bed and it had taken him a painstaking hour to magically repair the entire tome. The last page had had 'traitor' smeared across it, in Goyle's unmistakably scrawling handwriting, although he suspected that one of his housemates had encouraged him. Probably Nott, Draco mused, the other man had always preferred to keep his loyalties and intents hidden and let others do his dirty work.

Following the bell ringing, Draco carefully levitated his cauldron into the adjacent room with the rest of the students, hurrying to pack his bag and leave before the others. The last thing he needed was an additional punch or two while everyone was bumping into each other to leave the dungeons. He had reached the top of the stairs while the rest of the class were still busy, passing a suspicious Filch on the way and ignoring a few mocking comments from portraits along the way.

Defence Against The Dark Arts saw him bored in the last row while Professor Jones droned on about the founding members of the first duelling club in magic history or something like that. He didn't fail to notice the strange looks that the teacher occasionally sent his and Potter's ways, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth at the thought of their encounter a few days prior. However unpleasant it had been to have been caught being friendly with Potter, he couldn't deny that it was satisfying to for once render one of these Merlin-damned high-and-mighty Potter fans speechless.

'Mr Malfoy?' Professor Jones' voice interrupted his brooding. Her impatient tone suggested that she had been trying to talk to him for a while now.

'Excuse me, Professor?'

'I announced a practice duel last week, and as I have been telling you several times now, Mr Potter has chosen you as his duelling partner for today.'

Salaz—Draco was going to murder Potter for this, he thought, as he made his way to the front of the classroom and into the improvised duelling area Professor Jones had set up. The witch announced the usual rules—no muggle fighting, no hexes more dangerous than a knock-out, nothing out of the ordinary—and counted them in.

'Aaand begin!'

Draco quickly stopped thinking and they fell into the same rhythmic sort of dance as the last time. Potter's ridiculous disarming spells were as foreseeable as ever and Draco's satisfaction grew every time Potter's face deflated after his Expelliarmus had been effortlessly dodged. Nevertheless, the Gryffindor was as challenging an opponent as he had been the last time and more than once, Draco had to bend or duck to evade a hex that would have made it past his shield charms. Roughly three dozen pairs watched in growing fascination as the two exchanged spell after spell, every miss being absorbed by the magic barrier maintained by Professor Jones.

He fired a stinging hex at Potter's feet, going past his shield and making the Gryffindor yelp in pain, quickly followed up by a Stupefy rendering him unconscious as Draco triumphantly holstered his wand while the class descended into chaos, with incredulous yells decrying Potter's defeat and a few insults and even some reluctant admiration thrown Draco's way, although the former outweighed the latter by far. Behind him, the teacher vanished the duelling area and woke Potter from where Draco had knocked him out. The Slytherin was pretty sure he could feel Weasley's hateful stare, even without turning to look at him. Impossible to tell what upset the ginger more, that his mate had chosen Draco over him or that his holy saviour had been defeated by a Slytherin.

'Quiet, everyone, please!', Professor Jones attempted to calm the class down. 'Thank you, Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy, for your very insightful demonstration. I award twenty points to both your houses for your outstanding duelling abilities. Now, if you all could sit down again so I may continue the lesson? I am aware we're all excited for the holidays, but I would prefer it if you could pay attention these last few days…'

'What do you mean you're not coming home for Christmas? Of course you are!'

Harry had expected disappointment and anger. That didn't help lessen the blow, however.

'Mum is already excited to see you again and Dad wrote the other day about something muggle he wants to show you that he found, and even Charlie is coming, and—'

'Ron', Harry said calmly. 'I'm not going.'

'Ginny! Say something!', the ginger helplessly demanded, but for once, the younger Weasley didn't seem inclined to get involved. 'Mione! Anyone!'

'I'm sorry', Harry forced out between gritted teeth. 'But I think it's better if you enjoy yourselves with a little distance to me.'

'Is it Malfoy? Is that why?', Ron shouted and there was that argument again.

Ever since Harry's revelation about his blooming friendship with the Slytherin, Ron had been but insufferable. The frequency of his comments about the blonde's appearance, performance, attitude or past had seemingly quadrupled, never failing to point out if he thought his nemesis was behaving in a suspicious way or reminding Harry of the various ways their rival had wronged them during the past few years.

'Aha!', Ron triumphantly yelled. 'See? Didn't I call it? "He's going to manipulate you", didn't I say he would? And now look at it!' He turned to the others and never had Harry been more glad about the absence of their dorm mates. 'How can you not see it?', Ron angrily demanded to know. 'The treacherous little git is turning you against your friends and you are still bent on your bloody mission to save his soul or whatever it is you think you're doing!'

'You know what? Shut up!', Harry angrily retorted before storming out of the dorm. It pained him to admit it, but even more than Ron's accusations hurt the fact that by now, his best friend got in his nerves daily. They needed time apart from each other and the holidays had presented themselves as the natural opportunity for that. Feeling guilty, he resolved to write an apology letter to Mrs Weasley, although he dreaded the inevitable scolding he would receive once Ron would complain to his entire family about Harry's supposed turning at the hands of a sneaky Death Eater.

Across the castle, Draco Malfoy stared, seemingly apathetic, as his housemates stuffed their belongings into their various suitcases. Their parents might have been jailed or dead, but most of them still had majestic estates to return home to and house elves to serve them. Draco had briefly considered returning to Malfoy Manor, but had eventually decided against it, not wanting to relive memories of the horrors he had witnessed inside the walls of the house. Professor McGonagall had accepted his request to stay over the holidays without batting an eye and it appeared that he was going to be the only Slytherin to do so.

On the bright side, he thought, he might actually get to enjoy a few weeks without any unfortunate 'incidents' or other injuries.

A/N: Cliffhanger? Maybe? I really do enjoy escalating the Harry-Ron conflict, Ron is just such a perfect character to fight with. Bonus points for rational!Hermione xD