A stunned Draco lifted the hat from his head. For a long moment, there was deep silence. Then, pandemonium reigned.
It was a happy pandemonium.
Very slowly and carefully, moving in a daze as the crowd all around him erupted into wild cheers, Draco stood, placed the hat back on the stool, and turned to look behind him, his eyes instantly seeking for the one person above all others whose reaction he truly cared about- Hermione. He found her right away, standing on the platform directly behind him, her face radiant with joy. Without a word, she leapt off the edge of the dais toward him. His seeker reflexes, restored along with his health, kicked in once again and he caught her easily around the waist and lowered her to the floor, swinging her in a full circle as he did so.
Her arms locked about his neck, his hands still resting on her waist, Hermione looked up at him, eyes alight. "Welcome to Gryffindor," she said, and although she spoke softly, he heard her with piercing clarity over all the jubilant noise that filled the hall; heard her as though they were the only two people in the room, or indeed, on Earth.
"I hope I get to bunk with you," he replied, grinning, but his grin faded quickly as he saw her smile flicker and a dark shadow flash behind her eyes. It was gone almost as soon as it appeared, but still he fumed at himself; Jesus Christ, what the hell is the MATTER with me? She was just raped, for God's sake- like she's gonna want to think about bunking with ANYONE for a long time! I'm such a bloody fucking idiot!
But by the time these thoughts had run their course and he opened his mouth to apologize, the darkness that had briefly clouded her expression was gone and she was laughing. Slapping at him playfully, she exclaimed, "don't be fresh, Malfoy!"
And then there was no more time to talk, because Harry and Ron were back, flanking them, followed by Dumbledore, Sirius, Snape and McGonagall, and Draco found himself shaking hands all around; McGonagall welcoming him to his new House, and Snape giving him a hard, piercing stare when his turn came, but then softening his mouth into the barest hint of a smile and shaking his head as if to say, well, that just figures, doesn't it?
It was when he was shaking Harry's hand for the second time that day that a disturbing thought occurred to him; "Potter," he said suddenly, "what the bloody hell are we going to do about Quidditch?"
Harry's eyes widened, indicating that he hadn't yet thought of this. But, just like a moment earlier with Hermione, further conversation was rendered impossible as the little group suddenly found themselves in the center of a swirling, constantly changing vortex of well-wishers clamoring for their attention.
They first were overcome by a tidal wave of red hair and freckles; the entire Weasley clan. Arthur, Molly and all their offspring; those who still attended Hogwarts as well as those who had moved on, descended on them with hugs, kisses and chatter galore.
While Ron rolled his eyes and took his family in stride, and Harry and Hermione accepted their attentions with good humor but with the air of those who had been through all this before, it was a completely novel experience for Draco to be surrounded by the grinning, laughing Weasleys, all talking over each other, all exuding joy and goodwill. Bill, Charlie and Percy shook his hand, the first two warmly, the latter with a pompous stiffness that Fred and George mimicked gleefully behind his back. As for the twins, they proclaimed themselves to henceforth be Crabbe and Goyle's replacements, and took up positions at his elbows, shadowing his every move while glaring about threateningly, scratching their heads and picking their noses. Ginny gave him a shy look, from beneath her lashes, of the sort that had previously been reserved for Harry alone, and Arthur punched him lightly on the shoulder in a fatherly manner. It was Molly though, who amazed him most. Reaching up with both hands, she grasped his face firmly and, pulling him down so that they were eye-to-eye, murmured, "Thank goodness you're all right, dear! We are so very proud of you and I know you'll make a wonderful Gryffindor!" And she kissed him soundly on both cheeks and his forehead before releasing him.
Draco felt a rush of guilt over all the horrible things he had said about her in the past, followed by the beginnings of a deep admiration and affection for the kind little woman beaming up at him. He made a mental note to apologize to the Weasel at a later time, and tell him that his mum was nice. She was, in fact, ideal; the kind of mother (he would not tell Weasley this bit) that he had fantasized about throughout his lonely, isolated childhood.
And then the Weasleys were gone (except for Fred and George, who remained steadfastly at Draco's elbows like a pair of identical flame-haired bookends, grunting and scratching their armpits despite his increasingly irritated efforts to shake them off) and all of Gryffindor House was descending on them, led by the other sixth years, and Draco found himself right in the thick of the whooping, shoulder-clapping, jumping-up-and-down Gryffindor exuberance that he had witnessed from afar for six years with a sneer on his face and secret envy in his heart. He was astonished now at how easily and smoothly he was accepted- not a single one of his new Housemates showed any qualms in welcoming him warmly to the "family". He was back-clapped, shoulder-punched, hand-shook, and even hugged by a few of the girls (Lavender in particular, who had harbored a powerful crush on him for three years and had often lamented to her best friend Parvati that someone so good-looking should be a Slytherin asshole, pressed herself against him VERY suggestively) until he was left feeling slightly shaky and disoriented. Even Neville, who had suffered unparalleled cruelty at Draco's hands for six long years, ever since the remembrall incident during the very first week they had been at Hogwarts, appeared to hold no grudge. He greeted Draco in his own quiet, earnest way, offering his hand without hesitation.
Once Draco's status as the newest Gryffindor was thus established and the members of the House had all given their seals of approval, the rest of the students, mingled with various staff members, ministry officials, and representatives of the press, converged upon the tight-knit little group. Harry had just managed to fend off Rita Skeeter, (against whom, Draco noticed, he, Ron and Hermione seemed to bear a sizeable grudge,) when the attention of all those in the hall was once again requested by Dumbledore up on the dais.
Considering the nature of the headmaster's announcement, which was that the dancing was about to commence for the fourth years and above, and would last until dawn (Ron groaned aloud in dismay when he realized that they must have slept through the actual eating portion of the feast), and that, furthermore, all classes were to be cancelled for the remainder of the week (this being only Monday night) in celebration of their immense victory, ecstatic applause once again met his words.
The hall began to empty somewhat as the ministry officials and members of the press, who had come primarily to witness the award ceremony and had little interest in staying to attend a high-school dance, departed and the disgruntled younger students were led by their prefects back to their Houses, protesting all the way. Where there had been standing room only, there was now suddenly space to move about and breathe a bit more freely; room for the dancing to commence.
With a few waves of Dumbledore's hand, the torchlight in the hall dimmed dramatically, the head table vanished altogether from the dais to be replaced by enchanted instruments which immediately struck up a tune, and the ceiling, for once not reflecting the sky outside, began to shimmer with aurora borealis and showers of falling stars. Gasps filled the hall as thousands of tiny white sparks, cool to the touch, began drifting down upon the remaining students, a tangible extension of the star showers above.
Harry, Ron, Draco and Hermione remained for a moment, standing at a loss near the foot of the dais, as all around them couples began pairing off to dance. Then Dumbledore appeared beside them and beckoned them once again to follow him, which they did gladly, leaving behind, to Draco's immense relief, the Weasley twins, who looked for all the world like petulant children whose favorite toy had just been snatched away. He led them to the small parlor off the hall that Harry had first laid eyes on when his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire during their fourth year. Within the little room a merry fire blazed and two tables had been set up. A long table placed against the wall was laden with a vast array of foods from savory to sweet, while in front of the fireplace a small round table had been set for four, with golden plates waiting to be filled from the private feast laid out for them and huge mugs of rich, frothy-
"Butterbeer!" Ron moaned, in a veritable transport of delight.
"Indeed, Mister Weasley," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling; "and may I add, that particular indulgence was not present at the larger feast earlier; it was saved exclusively for the four of you. So- eat and drink your fill- the mugs are self-replenishing- and then you may rejoin the festivities whenever you see fit. Now if you'll excuse me-" and his eyes were now positively dancing with mirth - "I've promised dances to both Sybil and Minerva, and those two do have a tendency to get- ah- competitive. I had better go before things turn ugly out there." And he left the four of them staring at each other, aghast.
"Oh God," Draco muttered a moment later, finally breaking the stunned silence that had descended upon them following the headmaster's departure; "Could this day get any more bizarre? Trelawney and McGonagall fighting over Dumbledore-" he raised one hand to massage his temple in a gesture of weary bemusement- "that's more than I ever wanted to know about any of them."
The others agreed fervently, then they all fell ravenously upon their private feast.
The better part of an hour passed in companionable silence as the four teens gorged themselves; it was now late Monday evening and the last time any of them had eaten was Saturday night, when Harry and Ron had shared sandwiches beside their campfire and Draco and Hermione had hurriedly raided the Hogwarts kitchens before racing off after them.
The better part of another hour passed as they sat, comfortably full, talking in front of the cheerful blaze in the fireplace, too stuffed to even think about dancing. Harry, Ron and Hermione filled Draco in on the politics of Gryffindor House, and they talked at length about the quidditch issue- the following year both Harry and Draco had been planning to be team captains, as well as to continue as seekers for their respective teams. Now of course, that would be quite impossible, as they shared a House and therefore a quidditch team. After much discussion, they decided that the only fair solution would be for one of them to be seeker and the other to be captain, but in a different position (probably beater, since Fred and George were currently in their last year at Hogwarts and next year their positions would need to be filled), and that they would let the team decide which of them should be which. That would take care of next year- in the mean time, Draco would be the team's reserve seeker, in case Harry should be unable to play for any reason. As this was extremely unlikely, it was fairly certain that Draco would simply have to forego quidditch for the rest of sixth year.
This prospect depressed him briefly, for he truly did share Harry's passion for the game, but eventually his mind turned to dancing and he brightened. The group that would come to be known as the "Gryffindor Four" had been sequestered in their private chamber for two hours now, and were about ready to rejoin the festivities in the Great Hall which, they could clearly hear, were still going strong despite the fact that it was now past midnight.
Standing, Draco extended a hand to Hermione. He enjoyed dancing and was very good at it, having actually been given years of private ballroom dancing lessons as part of his genteel upbringing. However, he had never to date found a partner that was, in his "humble" opinion, worthy of him; Pansy, for one, definitely had two left feet. She was worse than Potter, if that was possible. In fact, since their fourth-year Yule Ball, he had often thought that it would be highly amusing to watch Pansy dance with Potter and place bets on how many times during the course of one song the two of them would end up in a heap on the floor.
Now he raised one eyebrow, quirked his lips into a faint smirk that bore no real malice, and drawled out, "think you can keep up with me on the dance floor, Granger?"
Hermione's eyes flashed at the challenge. "You'd better believe it, Malfoy," she retorted, taking his hand.
Harry glanced at Ron with some concern, in order to gauge his reaction, but to his surprise and relief he found Ron looking rather amused by the exchange. Ron, catching his eye, shook his head as if to say, he has no idea what he's getting into!
Harry rolled his eyes and grinned, then draped an arm about his best friend's shoulders.
With that, the four of them reentered the still dazzlingly enchanted Great Hall.
00000
As it turned out, Draco and Hermione would have to wait hours for their dance.
As soon as they emerged from the parlor, Lavender, who apparently had been lurking by the door, literally hurled herself at Draco. She either failed to notice or chose to ignore the fact that he and Hermione had linked hands, and, never having been a shy sort of girl, she grasped Draco firmly by the arm and pulled him, too shocked to resist, onto the dance floor with a breathless exclamation of "ohmygoshIamsogladyouguysfinallycamebackOUTyousimplymustgivemethisdanceDracoseeyoulaterHermioneIthinkSeamusislookingforyoutodancesokeepaneyeoutOKbye!"
Within the next few seconds, a blushing but nevertheless determined Ginny had claimed Harry and Parvati had swooped down on Ron. Hermione was left standing bewildered until, true to Lavender's prediction, Seamus appeared at her elbow and whisked her away to dance.
The four heroes found themselves to be in high demand all night. The festivities continued with unabated energy and enthusiasm into the wee hours and Harry, Ron, Draco and Hermione found themselves changing partners with each new song- sitting out was not an option for any of them, as they were all so eagerly sought after. The tight-knit little group that had emerged from the parlor together soon found themselves widely separated and each surrounded by a different group of admirers awaiting a turn to dance.
Following his initial dance with Ginny, Harry danced with, among others, Parvati, Lavender, Cho, and Hannah Abbot. Ron, after Parvati, danced with Lavender, Hannah, Ginny, (in a sweet, big-brotherly way), and a number of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw girls whose faces he recognized but who he couldn't quite place- but who, to his immense satisfaction, all seemed to know a great deal about him. Both Harry and Ron were also able to procure one dance each with Hermione, to the delighted applause of the other Gryffindors.
Hermione, for her part, in addition to Seamus, Ron and Harry, danced with Dean Thomas, Colin Creevy, both Weasley twins, Terry Boot of Ravenclaw, Justin Finch-Fletchly of Hufflepuff, and many others. Breathless from being whisked about the dance floor by so many admiring partners, she nevertheless found herself constantly scanning the room for flashes of silver-blond hair. Whenever she managed to catch a glimpse of Draco she would attempt to steer herself and her partner of the moment toward him- but to no avail. They always seemed to be separated by a sea of people.
As for Draco, he found himself being partnered by Parvati, Lavender, Ginny, Lavender, some simpering round-faced Hufflepuff, Lavender, That Chang girl that strung Potter along for two years, Lavender…they danced with varying degrees of skill (Lavender definitely had some moves, though they were not of the genteel variety Draco was accustomed to), but he considered none of them to be a truly worthy partner. He may have played a pivotal role in delivering the world from Voldemort's evil and discovered the beginnings of friendship and love, he may have experienced a monumental shift in his priorities and discovered reserves of courage and integrity that he had never known he possessed, but his arrogance and conceit remained, to a large degree, intact. And these girls bored him with their simpering, their fluttering eyelashes, and in Lavender's case, provocative dance moves. He was becoming increasingly agitated by his inability to fight his way over to the only girl in the room that interested him. He found his eyes constantly scanning the hall for flashes of white pajamas amid the sea of black robes; for a magnificent, untamed mane of dark curls falling free amongst all the painstakingly arranged hairstyles that seemed to defy gravity through the use of myriad jeweled ornaments and no small amount of magic.
At about three in the morning, there was a brief lull in the dancing as the enchanted instruments were replaced by a live wizard band and one of the four long House tables reappeared, against a wall, laden with refreshments. During the ensuing rush on the refreshment table, Draco and Hermione, who had locked eyes from opposite sides of the room, made their way toward each other with single-minded determination. A distance of several feet was all that separated them when the band, which played both wizarding and Muggle favorites (and had indeed been selected by Dumbledore for precisely that reason), struck up a rendition of Unchained Melodies and Hermione and Draco found themselves instantly seized by Neville Longbottom and- what a surprise- Lavender.
Draco had had about enough of Lavender's advances and was more than ready to shake her off, but Hermione had not yet danced with Neville and one look at his face was all it took to convince her that he had been screwing up his courage all night for this moment. The fear of rejection was so apparent in the shy boy's eyes that, despite her nearly desperate desire to be in Draco's arms, she relented. She gave Neville a warm smile, shot Draco an almost imperceptible head-shake, and reluctantly allowed herself to be led into easily the most clumsy dance of her night by the nervous, bumbling boy.
Shoulders slumping ever so slightly in defeat, Draco submitted to yet another dance with Lavender. Half the boys in the school would have given practically anything to have been in his position at that moment; Lavender really was very pretty, and very alluring, especially when she was turning on the charm as she was now, and was one of the most sought-after girls in the school. But she held no appeal whatsoever for the newest Gryffindor. In fact, now that he was close enough to have an unobstructed view of Hermione, his eyes never left her for the duration of the dance- nor did hers leave him.
As Hermione winced repeatedly due to Neville stepping on her feet, and as Draco resignedly endured Lavender's gyrations against him, their eyes remained locked together. They turned in slow circles to the music with their partners, but always they swiveled their heads so as not to break eye contact with one another. They may not have been dancing with each other literally- but they were drinking one another in; dancing with their eyes.
The song ended. Hermione would never remember later just how she had extricated herself from Neville, but undoubtedly she did it kindly because it was not in her nature to do otherwise, and because Neville was seen by many wandering away in a happy daze, muttering, "I asked her, and she danced with me………I asked her and she danced with me!"
The next thing Hermione remembered was standing in front of Draco with only inches separating them, eyes still locked together, though they were not yet touching. Lavender, still clinging to Draco's arm, suddenly seemed to sense a threat to what she had come to view, over the course of the night, as her territory, and attempted to pull Draco away toward the refreshment table with another of her breathless exclamations; "ComeonDracoletsgoseewhatthereistoeatIamabsolutelyfamishedandjustabouttoEXPIREfromthirstdoyouthinkyoucouldpourmeanicecold-"
But this time, unlike her earlier ambush, she did not have the element of surprise on her side. This time Draco and Hermione WOULD NOT be parted. Draco stood rooted to the spot, resisting the insistent tugging on his arm, not even looking at Lavender; his attention was focused solely on Hermione. Who, gazing back as if entranced, suddenly recognized the look of irritation growing behind the pale blue eyes; irritation at Lavender for ruining the moment with her incessant tugging and chatter; irritation that was about to boil over. Violently.
Not wanting Draco to say or do anything in anger that would cause a permanent rift between him and his new housemates, Hermione spoke first, hoping to avert catastrophe. "Lavender," she said, wrenching her eyes away from Draco's long enough to flash her dorm-mate a winning smile, "Draco here promised me a dance while we were eating dinner, and since it's getting so late I really think it's time I collected."
Lavender's mouth opened, then closed. When Hermione moved to take Draco's other arm, however, she found her voice again. "But…I…."
"Lavender," Hermione said firmly, though her smile never faltered, "I must insist."
Still Lavender clutched Draco's arm. Fortunately Harry, displaying his usual impeccable sense of timing, chose just that moment to appear out of the crowd at Lavender's elbow and request the honor of the next dance. Lavender, unable to resist the lure of a second dance with the Boy-Who-Lived, allowed herself to be led away by Harry (who winked mischievously at Hermione over his shoulder), but not without a longing backward glance at Draco.
And then the music was starting again and to Hermione's amazement Draco, a faint smile hovering about his lips, bowed- he actually bowed to her- she hadn't seen him do that to anyone else all night- and murmured, one eyebrow raised suggestively, "Miss Granger, may I have this dance?"
Allowing Draco's arms to encircle her felt like coming home.
A wave of contentment washed over her and she let her head fall forward against Draco's chest, moving effortlessly with him to the music. She could hear the steady thudding of his heart beating beneath her ear, and, remembering how close that heart had come to stopping forever, tightened her arms about him, nestling her head into the hollow below his throat.
As for Draco, he had come to the sudden, awed realization that he had at long last found himself a worthy partner. Though at the moment they were doing little more than swaying to the music, Hermione moved with such innate grace, and followed his lead with such perfect attunement, that he had no doubt she would be able to follow him through the most difficult dance moves with ease. It was as though it was one of the very few things in her life that she felt no need to think about, to rationalize; it just came naturally.
And suddenly he wanted to teach her, teach her everything he knew; because here, he realized, was the only partner he would ever need. Here was a partner to last him a lifetime. He never wanted to dance with anyone else again.
Burying his nose in the abundant curls atop her head, he inhaled deeply the sweet scent of her hair. "Hermione," he murmured, in the same reverent tone he had used on the floor of his hospital room. Hearing her name, she raised her head and smiled up at him, eyes inquisitive. "Hermione," he said again, and not knowing what else to say, bent his head and kissed her.
It was an entirely different sort of kiss from the one they had shared previously, on Hermione's hospital bed before embarking on their quest to face the Dark Lord. That kiss had been tinged with desperation and despair; an act almost of defiance, committed by two people who didn't truly think that they would live to see the morrow.
This kiss was slow, tender, exploratory…full of wonder and discovery. A kiss of young lovers who know they have a lifetime stretching ahead of them in which to learn every detail, every nuance of one another.
And then the words which accompanied the music began, and they stopped kissing to listen, because they both intuitively knew that this song would be very special to them- that it was, in fact, "their" song and always would be. It was an old, relatively obscure muggle love song that neither of them- even Hermione, who had been raised in the muggle world, had heard before. None of the students present had heard it, in fact, and it was a mystery as to why the band decided to play it at all- just more Hogwarts magic at work.
It began;
You ask me if I love you, and I choke on my reply...
(Hermione smiled into Draco's chest. Right from the very first words it was as though the song had been written just for them. After all, it was undeniable that they both encountered difficulty when putting their emotions into words…)
I'd rather hurt you honestly than mislead you with a lie.
(Her mind flashed to an image of Draco sitting on the edge of her hospital bed shortly after she had awakened, screaming in the dark; his face gray with worry and sleep-deprivation. She had asked where Harry and Ron were and he had told her, flat-out- though he must have known the truth would hurt her, though she could see in his eyes that telling her the truth hurt him, though almost anyone else would have tried to placate her and soothe her back to sleep. He had told her the truth. Though hearing it had nearly killed her, she was grateful for that- and she always would be.)
And who am I to judge you on what you say or do,
When I'm only just beginning to see the real you?
(After six long years of stereotypes and misconceptions…)
At times I'd like to break you, and drive you to your knees-
(All the time they had wasted hating each other, trying to hurt one another, physically, emotionally, by any means possible…)
At times I'd like to break through and hold you endlessly…
(They had finally and completely torn down the wall of enmity that had once stood between them, and would now make up for those wasted years with a lifetime of love, friendship and trust.)
And sometimes when we touch, the honesty's too much,
And I have to close my eyes and hide.
I want to hold you til I die, til we both break down and cry;
I wanna hold you til the fear in me subsides.
Draco's arms tightened about her as the music ended and they just stood for a long moment, clasped in one another's embrace, her head resting against his shoulder, until the next song began and brought them out of their shared reverie. She raised her head then, and a smile led to yet another sweet, lingering kiss.
Several feet away, Lavender, who had just been released by Harry, turned to make her way back over to Draco- and stopped short when she saw the activity in which he and Hermione were wholly engaged. Shaking her head, she sighed in defeat; she knew when she was bested. Lavender knew enough about boys to recognize instantly the look of utter adulation on Draco's face as he gazed down at Hermione after ending the kiss- she had seen it, often enough, directed at her. Draco was a lost cause. He clearly belonged to Hermione, body, mind and spirit.
Lavender allowed herself just one more sigh for what might have been, then turned with a flip of her hair and headed toward the refreshment table. A cheerful person by nature, she would not allow herself to brood over this. Truthfully, she did not begrudge Hermione her victory. It was about time, she thought, that that girl got herself someone. And after all, Draco was only one fish in the sea. Okay, one very good-looking fish in the sea. But there were plenty more out there, and the night was not over yet…
"Hermione," Draco murmured, lost in her wide, dark eyes, "I-" he broke off suddenly, uncertainly, and she raised an eyebrow expectantly.
Draco swallowed hard, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable and unsure. He looked almost as afraid, she thought, as when he had faced the Sorting Hat earlier.
For his part, Draco had been about to declare his love- Hermione, I love you- the words had been on the tip of his tongue, but had died on his lips when he had tried to speak them. It wasn't that the words were untrue- he knew that he loved her all right, knew it as certainly as he had ever known anything in his life. As certainly as he knew that clouds were white and grass was green and he was the best looking boy at Hogwarts. It was just that actually saying it- well, for some reason it scared him to death. It had been one thing to cry out his love for her, in fear and despair, on a black night when he had been fairly certain neither one of them would see the dawn, but it was different now- the words seemed even weightier, if possible, and so the thought of speaking them unnerved him. He would wait for the right time- an even more perfect time than tonight- and in the mean time, she already knew, didn't she? Surely she must.
So instead he said, his pale face flushing ever so slightly, "would you do me the honor of being my girl?"
Hermione's face broke into a radiant smile as she whispered, "a thousand times, yes!"
00000
"So what do you think?" Harry asked.
The four of them were sitting on Draco's bed in the Gryffindor seventh-year boys' dormitory, about half an hour after Draco and Hermione had officially become "an item". Shortly after sealing their new status with another kiss, Hogwarts' newest couple had made for the door of the Great Hall; they were both tired- Draco especially, after having just recovered from a near-fatal wound and all- and wanted to get a head-start back to Gryffindor Tower so that Draco could learn the ropes and get situated while it was relatively empty and quiet. The lower years would be fast asleep and the rest of the upper years would still be dancing for another hour or two.
Ron and Harry, noticing their stealthy departure, had ducked out immediately after them and caught them on the grand staircase; they were both exhausted as well, but more than that, still playing the deeply-ingrained role of over-protective best friends, they were not yet ready to allow Hermione and Draco to slip off for any amount of "alone time".
As a result, the four of them had entered the tower, and then the deserted dormitory, together, finding that the circular room had been magically expanded and Draco's bed and all his belongings had already arrived.
Hence Harry's question as the "Gryffindor Four" sat comfortably together, Draco taking in his new surroundings, the slightly dazed expression back in his eyes.
"Malfoy?" Harry prompted.
Draco's eyes snapped back into focus. "I think," he said, glancing around the room one more time, "that this dorm looks like its on fire- red and gold everywhere. Yecch. Plus scarlet makes me look washed-out. Green really did suit me better." Hermione poked him in the ribs good-naturedly as Ron and Harry rolled their eyes at each other.
"I also think it's a damn good thing my grandparents left me a comfortable sum of money in a Gringott's vault in my own name- (Harry flashed Ron a quick, knowing grin, as they both understood that a sum described by Malfoy as "comfortable" would likely be described by anyone else as "holy shit, I'm rich beyond my wildest dreams") -which I'll gain access to on my seventeenth birthday and which my parents cannot touch, and that Dumbledore has agreed to let me stay here on scholarship until then- because I'm fairly certain that my tuition checks have just been stopped cold." His wry tone was belied by the solemn look in his eyes as he added, "when father finds out that I'm a Gryffindor now, on top of everything else-" he was unable to suppress a small shudder.
Hermione scooted closer to him on the bed, trying to offer him some comfort and reassurance by wrapping an arm around him and laying her head on his shoulder. Draco rested his chin on top of her head, and his hand came up to begin stroking absently through her hair.
"If your father comes after you again, Malfoy, we'll be there, just like last time," Harry said with quiet conviction.
Draco's mouth curved into the barest hint of a smile. "There's just one more thing I think, Potter," he said, and allowed his eyes to drift shut- it looked like an effect of sleepiness, but was really because he couldn't quite bring himself to meet Harry's gaze as he continued, "I think I'm going to like having real friends."