Arriving back at the Hog's Head, Harry felt he had no choice but to rouse Draco from the sleeping spell. It would be difficult to explain to the hotel receptionist why he had an unconscious traveling companion. If he could convince Draco he needed protection in the first place.

"Finite Incantatem."

Draco didn't wake immediately, as Harry thought. He supposed the concussion had something to do with that. But Harry was getting anxious and began to pace.

"Where am I?" Draco's voice was weak. "Uh, my head."

Harry hurried to his side. "Don't try to sit up. I think you have a concussion, as well as some other injuries."

Draco's brow furrowed as he looked at Harry. "What happened? Were we attacked?"

Nodding, Harry answered, "Yes. Do you remember anything? Were you able to see the assailant?"

Draco closed his eyes, as if trying to picture it in his head. "I saw you walking toward us. You had your wand out . . . and something else."

"The agreement parchment."

"Oh. Then you shouted for us to get down. And . . ." Draco gasped. "Where is my father? Is he all right?"

Harry looked about the room, at anything other than Draco. He desperately wished someone else was there to tell the bad news. As a young Auror, he hadn't much experience dealing directly with witnesses. He certainly never had to speak with family members of a murder victim.

"I'm so sorry," Harry said softly. "Your father took the first curse directly. He's . . . dead."

Draco blinked several times. But tears filled his eyes faster than he could blink them away. He covered his face and sobbed.

Harry sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed. He didn't know if he should get up, say something, or comfort the man. Regardless of their prior relationship, Draco was now a witness in Harry's charge. More importantly, he was a man whose father was recently murdered.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. Despite thinking Draco was a git through most of their relationship, Harry couldn't help feeling a pang of sympathy for him.

Harry decided it was best to give Draco some space, so he busied himself reading the rest of the Prophet in a chair by the window.

After a while, Draco's sobs slowed, then finally stopped. He wiped his face with the coarse blanket.

"Did you at least get the bastard?" he sniffed.

"I– no. I tried, but he was hidden in the shadows. I cast a few spells that missed. I thought it more important to tend to your injuries than to chase him. Or her."

"Why didn't you take me to St. Mungo's?" Draco glanced around. "What is this place?"

"Hog's Head Inn."

Draco made a face. "It's disgusting. I'm going home." He threw off the covers to find himself down to only his pants. He quickly pulled the covers back. "What the hell, Potter?"

Harry blushed. "I had to see where you were hurt."

"Hmph. Why is my leg bandaged?" Draco didn't seem embarrassed so much as angry. "Well, what's wrong with me?"

"Oh, um, well, you have a small fracture in your leg, and several cuts and bruises, which I've healed. And a concussion. I believe you were hit by bricks as the building fell."

"That would explain this headache." Draco lightly touched the bump on his head. "I still don't understand why you didn't take me to hospital."

This was the tricky part. Harry was going to have to convince Draco that he needed Harry's protection, despite the fact that Harry was the Ministry's number one suspect in the Death Eater murders.

"I believe your life is in danger," Harry told him. "Whomever killed your father probably wasn't expecting you to be there. And by now they'll realize that you weren't killed in the attack."

"And?"

"They don't know you can't identify them."

"Oh. And you think this person will try to kill me to keep from doing that?"

Harry nodded.

"What aren't you telling me Potter? If you think I'm in danger, wouldn't we be at the Ministry?"

Sighing, Harry sat down toward the foot of the bed. "I don't know who at the Ministry I can trust. I'm fairly certain the killer was wearing traditional red Auror robes."

Draco raised an eyebrow. And Harry knew he was waiting for more.

"Apparently, I'm the prime suspect." He tossed Draco the paper.

Holding the paper to his face, Draco squinted, then closed his eyes. "What does it say? Trying to read hurts my head."

"The short version? I don't have an alibi for any of the other murders and I had the opportunity to kill Lucius." Harry pursed his lips. He hadn't meant to mention his death so casually in front of Draco. "And because I didn't report directly back to the Ministry, I appear to be guilty."

Draco scoffed. "Do they really think the Chosen One is a cold-blooded killer? You couldn't even use the killing curse on . . . the Dark Lord."

Harry was surprised Draco knew that. Most people were too busy fighting for their lives to have noticed which spell Harry had used to defeat Voldemort. And if they assumed he used the killing curse, they condoned it in the name of justice.

Obviously, they didn't anymore.

"I didn't kill any of them, including your father," he finally said.

"I know. I was there." Draco rolled his eyes. But then he looked down and sighed.

"I really am very sorry," Harry said. "I wanted justice for your father, but I didn't want him dead."

It was a long while before Draco spoke again. He sniffed, but only once.

"It's been difficult for me to come to terms with . . . everything that happened to me in my youth. And, everything I made happen. Sometimes, it feels as though someone else did the things I did. A lot of which was done out of fear."

"Dra–

Draco put up a hand to stop Harry. "Don't. Don't try to make excuses. I wasn't the only wizard fearing for my life or the lives of my family. I could have been brave. I could have stood up for what I knew in my heart was right. But I didn't. I didn't want to give up the wealth or status my family had. I was a fucking spoiled coward."

Harry swallowed. He wasn't expecting such a frank confession.

"My father was also a coward," Draco continued. "Only a coward would offer up his only son to evil in order to protect himself."

Harry didn't know what to say. He agreed with everything Draco was saying. But he couldn't imagine being in his position. Both of his parents offered themselves up in order to protect him from evil.

"But he was still your father."

Draco nodded, then looked up at Harry. "Are you always this generous with compassion? No wonder everybody loves you."

"Well, they don't seem to love me at the moment. They think I'm a cold-blooded killer. It's not even safe for me to stay here. I'm going to find a Muggle hotel in London to hide for the time being."

As Harry looked back at Draco, he realized the man was no longer the pale, gaunt, worn-down youth he had been. He was actually rather attractive. Draco had filled out some and the dark circle under his eyes were gone. His pallor was a shade of pink rather than ashen. But it was his eyes that had changed the most. They were still the same shade of grey, but not cold and vacant. They were full of–

"I want to go home. I need to see that my mother is all right." Draco interrupted Harry's potentially inappropriate thoughts.

"You really shouldn't put any weight on that leg. You need bedrest."

'Why didn't you simply heal it instead of bandaging it?"

"I'm relatively new to healing spells. Oh, I can heal cuts and scrape all right. But bones are another thing. If I had some Skelegro potion, I would have given into you."

"I have some at the Manor."

Harry's brow furrowed. "You do?"

"I've been spending my time practicing and perfecting potions. Someday, I wish to run my own apothecary. I'm quite certain I have a small store of Skelegro in my personal potions room."

Pursing his lips, Harry said, "It could be dangerous for you to go home."

"The Manor is protected by numerous charms. I'll be safe there."

Nodding, Harry thought to himself that it might be safe from common thieves, but if the Ministry truly wanted to get in, they'd find a way. "I'll go with you. Just in case."

Harry expected an argument, but Draco tossed off the covers and asked for his clothes. Face reddening a bit, Harry pointed to the pile on the chest of drawers.

Draco grabbed the pile and hobbled best he could into the loo.

Sitting down on the bed, Harry rubbed his face. Perhaps it was for the best if Draco could go home, leaving Harry to prove his innocence on his own. Draco was beginning to become a distraction. It wasn't only that he had to worry about Draco's safety. He had to stop thinking about the emerald green silk boxers and the prize they were covering.

Harry shook his head. "Pull yourself together Potter. You can't cock up your first real assignment ogling your ward."

hdhdhd

As soon as they apparated into the Manor, Draco put his finger to his mouth. Harry realized at once the wards must have been disturbed. Though he couldn't feel it, Draco would know instantly. They stood in the great foyer silently and listened.

Draco raised his wand. "Homenum Revelio."

They looked at one another when nothing happened. At least there was no intruder in the Manor.

But Draco appeared disturbed. "Then my mother isn't here. She could be in danger."

"There's no reason to jump to conclusions," Harry reminded him. "Yet. Is anything missing?"

Draco gave a brief chuckle. "This house is full of magical and non-magical items. I couldn't begin to know everything that's missing."

"Anything obvious then? Anything your mother would have taken with her if she left on her own?"

Draco glanced around, then began to limp toward the sitting room. "There was a photo here of me in my Hogwarts robes."

Harry took Draco by the arm to help him walk through the Manor. It had been years since Harry and his friends had been taken captive there. But he shivered at the memory still.

Harry performed a Hovering Charm in order to get Draco up the grand staircase. Once on the second floor, Draco reached out for Harry's arm. Harry didn't mind the contact, but it reminded him of the distraction Draco was becoming.

In Lucius and Narcissa's bedroom, Draco turned to Harry. "Some of her jewelry is missing."

"I suppose it could have been stolen," Harry admitted.

Shaking his head, Draco replied, "Anyone who knows the worth of fine jewelry wouldn't have left these." He picked up a pair of diamond earrings. "But a locket from her grandmother is gone. It isn't a particularly valuable piece. It's rather hideous, in fact. But mother always kept it displayed on her chest of drawers as she had fond memories of the woman."

"That's a good sign then. If your mother had been taken forcibly, she probably wouldn't have been able to take sentimental knick-knacks."

"And it is odd that even the House Elves are gone."

Harry agreed. "But if your mother had left on her own, the wards wouldn't have been disturbed. I'm not convinced it's safe for you to stay here alone."

"Trying to get an invitation Potter?" Draco smirked.

Harry snorted. "I don't think it's safe for you to be here. Period."

Sighing, Draco conceded. "You're probably right. Especially if you think an Auror is somehow involved."

"We'd better get back to Hogsmeade. And then I'll probably head to London. Blend in with the Muggles."

"Wait." Draco pocketed the earrings and took a few more pieces from his mother's collection. "I need somethings from my room, including the Skelegro."

Before he got too far, Harry followed, annoyed that Draco left the room without him. Not knowing the full layout of the mansion, he didn't want to get lost. He found Draco with his shirt off standing in front of a wardrobe full of fine clothing.

"Oh, sorry." Harry turned to wait in the hall. "It's not anything you haven't seen already Potter," Draco called out, taunting him.

Harry rolled his eyes. He was never going to live that down. However, he was surprised that Draco joked about being undressed while unconscious rather than being angry. Perhaps Draco had more of a sense of humor than Harry ever thought.

"Here." When Draco emerged from his room, wearing a pair of close-fitting trousers, a silk button-down shirt and tweed sport coat, Harry had to force himself not to stare. That was when he noticed Draco was using a walking stick. He figured it must have been a Malfoy thing. Draco held something out for Harry.

"Uh, what's all this?"

"Fresh clothes. They might be a bit big, but you can shrink them if you need."

They weren't the sort of clothing Harry normally wore, but he had been wearing the same outfit since Friday morning, so he graciously accepted. He stood awkwardly for a moment.

"The loo is just down the hall," Draco said, pointing. Then he went back into his bedroom.

Harry changed into the trousers, which were too long, and a finely-knit light jumper. He supposed Draco chose the items that were most casual from his wardrobe, as they suited Harry more than silk would have. He rolled up the sleeves a turn or two and looked in the mirror. Good enough.

He met Draco in the hall just outside the loo. "Did you get what you needed?" he asked.

Draco held up a pouch that jingled when he shook it. "A stash of galleons. I have a feeling we're going to need it."

"What I need is more Muggle money," Harry said.

"Which is why I took the jewelry. I assume Muggles use pawn shops much the same as we do."

Harry nodded, then blinked as he realized what Draco had said. "Are you coming with me to London?"

"Where else have I to go? If . . . that's all right with you."

"If you wish." There were several reasons Harry didn't mind Draco's company, though he tried to appear apathetic. "Did you take the potion?"

"Drank up the whole dreadful thing," Draco said with sarcastic smile.

"Let's go then."

"Hold on."

"Now what?"

Draco took out his wand. "Reducio."

Harry's trouser legs shortened to a more acceptable length. But he also felt them a bit tighter across his arse. "They were fine the way they were," he grumbled.

Next, Draco shrank the length of his sleeves. Harry noticed the jumper was also more taught across his chest. If he didn't know better, he would have thought Draco was quite pleased with the way Harry looked in his clothes, judging by his expression.

"My turn." Harry took out his own wand.

"My clothes already fit impeccably."

"This is for your face."

Harry giggled at the look of horror on Draco's face before it transformed into perfectly average and nondescript. When he did the same to himself, Draco frowned.

"Well that's not entirely pleasant to look at," he complained.

As they apparated back to Hogsmeade, Harry's last thought was that Draco may have found Harry's own face entirely pleasant.

They agreed to stay that night at the Hog's Head Inn and get one more meal in the morning in Hogsmeade before heading off to the big city.