AN: Hello again everyone! We're on the fifth year! This story picks up a few months after the last one ended, now we're at the end of summer. Enjoy the read. Huge thank you to PetrogradAN for the read over and edits. Can't wait to post the next chapter.

There's No Place Like Home

I laid back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I had been trying to get in touch with Fred for the last two hours to my ever increasing frustration. He said he'd be at the mirror early this morning… just as he'd said he would be at the mirror yesterday and the day before that but i still had yet hear from him. And it was going on early afternoon. My head rested on the cool glass as I tried to collect my thoughts. Fred had forbid me from visiting the Burrow by Floo, making up excuses about his mother not approving of her when in reality it was well known Mrs. Weasley to be a very sweet women that was very hospitable towards others. I wanted to assume he just didn't want me getting caught at his house by the Mafloys.

Even without Fred, my week proved to be nuanced. I spent half of the previous day collecting my items and pieces of clothing from home with my mother, shedding the occasional tear when memories of things particularly dear to me were uncovered from their dusted shelves or collected from the bottom of the aging drawers. Mom had reminisced about her own memories of this place, lightly commenting that the situation reminded her of when she herself had gone away to college. I didn't want to disagree with her judgement even if I thought that there was nothing particularly grown up in going to Hogwarts but if it kept mother happy then I would keep my mouth shut.

Professor Barrass stopped by frequently. I had even seen him once sneaking the occasional glance at the items that we were collecting. I wanted to ask what he was doing around America but figured that was none of my business and I didn't want to pry. I did however ask him if he found out any information on why Burnner targeted us but given the inconclusive answer that he wove around my head regarding whatever research he had gathered I came to the conclusion that it was easier simply not to ask anymore.

As if fate could not be cruel enough, Melinda's grandparents had sought to move further away and refused to discuss any matter pertaining to their past at Hogwarts. Every time that they would mention anything coming even close to the magical school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, they'd respond by ignoring the Sawyers for days, sometimes weeks on end. I encouraged Melinda not to talk about it anymore. I didn't want to see her family hurting nor did I want to bring any bad luck upon them. Still it bothered me that we didn't have any answers, there was so much that I did not understand. I even wondered if Burnner's name was fake considering how I hadn't found any history on her. Professor Barrass claimed he knew a lot about her, but nothing had ever shown up in my independent research. No pictures, no degrees, nothing that indicted that she had a life here, or for that matter, anywhere. She must have kept everything to herself since the only clue that I had was the one picture that had been left lying around of herself and Barrass.

"Tammie!" I opened my eyes, my thoughts jumbled by the incoming headache.

Once again I had felt myself slipping into a dream and those eyes appeared. Those bright, beautiful, blue eyes. I knew there was more to the face but I could never remember, and the voice… it always sounded so far away, like a whisper in the wind and I knew it was trying to talk to me, reach out, trying to communicate with me, tell me something important that I needed to know.

I wasn't sure and I didn't know if it was the same person from the cliffs. When I told Fred about it he shook it off and said it was just some kind of out of body experience, that loads of people had them, especially during traumatic events. Draco had said the same thing. I wanted to agree. I really did but I knew in my heart that it was more than that, and it scared me. It scared me even more because I hadn't had one single vision since that fateful night at the cliffs.

"Draco? You in here?" I asked, getting up and walking down the hall to his room. "Draco?" I peeked into his room, the door wide open.
"What's up?" he asked from where he sat reading a book at his desk.
"What are you doing?" I asked leaning against the door frame.
"Reading the Art of Defensive Footwork," he replied matter of factly, holding up the book as I stepped in and looked over his shoulder. Dense and plain. "Why, what do you want?"
"Why are you reading that?" I asked as I sat on his bed.
"Why not?"

I chuckled as his neck went a bit pink. "You can't lie to me"

It took him a few seconds but finally he turned around, giving me an annoyed look. "What do you want?"
"What are you reading?" I asked again as he grumbled but finally closed the book, taking out a folded letter from the book's back cover.
"It's for Melinda," he said handing the letter over.
"I didn't know you two were back on speaking terms," I told him as I unfolded the letter and read it over.
"That's a draft, not the one I'm going to send or anything. I just… I don't even know if I'll send one at all," he said as I read it over. "She responded to my first letter that I wrote at the beginning of summer. I figured now it was time to see – never mind, I don't know what I was expecting..."
"What were you expecting?" I asked him crossing my legs on his bed.
"We didn't end on a particular good note" he started as I nodded, "I apologized for all that. I know that she sees how much better we are as a family."
"She's probably still recovering," I suggested.

I would definitely not be the one telling Draco that Melinda saw this family thing as a sort of act, a last ditch attempt for the Malfoys to save themselves. She didn't consider them my family, even if they were by blood.
"You seem fine," Draco commented as we exchanged looks.

I hadn't told him about the nightmares or of all the of the times that I had heard that infernal disembodied voice. He didn't know how often I thought about Burnner and the ways in which we could've saved her and then put her in prison instead of letting her die. I still had some pain in my leg, nothing like when I was stabbed. Though, looking at the scar brought back a heap of memories that I just did not want to deal with right now.

"You are fine, right?" Draco asked.

I instinctively touched my scar and nodded. "Course I am. Why would I not be?"

"Good, that's… good. How are you and Fred?" I could tell he didn't want to ask, but he probably thought since I listened to him it was at least the polite thing to do.
"We're good," I stated, feeling like that statement encompassed both sides of the same galleon.

Fred and I were… good. Letters were answered in a timely manner, we maintained the same banter as usual, we were good. However, I hadn't seen him much during the summer. We met up a few times in Diagon Alley and we took a few secret walks when the Malfoys thought I was hanging out with Draco, we kissed and had quiet conversations late at night through the mirror on rare occasions but we didn't see each other as much as I would've liked.

At first I thought Fred still felt guilty about letting me go alone to find Melinda, and then through George and their mutual friends Savannah and Lee I found out they were planning on opening a joke shop. I had no idea that it was in the works, and when I asked Fred he didn't want to tell me in case he got in trouble with his parents or the school, he didn't want me found guilty by mere association. I told him numerous times that I wanted to help, I wanted to be part of his business but he insisted I stay out. George had no problem constantly reminding me. It wasn't until a few weeks ago that I found out he was bringing products to the school through friends.

Lee, Ron, Harry, Seamus, Dean, Ginny, a few other Gryffindors I didn't know by name and Charity. I hadn't heard her name all summer but for some reason it bothered me to hear that she'd be involved. Melinda said I was just reading into it too much and that the twins hadn't even asked her to sneak in any of their various products, though Melinda had to know why since she was as much as a straight arrow as Hermione.
"I heard something about them trying to sneak in something called sticky trainers?"

I made a face, hopefully the name didn't mean what it implied. "No idea what that's about" I told him as he raised an eyebrow, probably figuring out that I was lying and though I didn't know what the particular product was about I knew it had to do with this business that I heard so little about.
"Whatever he's doing is going to fall on you and cause problems with the two of you dating again," he whispered as I sucked in air, preparing for the back and forth.

"At least he's doing something with his life, you know, if things go well for those two with sticky trainers or whatever they're doing they could have a big business and then your family can shove –" Draco elbowed his book off the desk, making a loud sound as it landed on the floor.

Mrs. Malfoy peeked around the door. "Everything alright?" she asked as I glanced at Draco, almost glad he interrupted me.

"Everything is fine," I told her truthfully as she nodded, looked at Draco who also nodded and then went about her business.

"It's my life Draco," I started as I got up to head out "and I like him, a lot, it shouldn't be a big deal if I date him," I told him as he picked his book up. "Just because you have a hard time bending doesn't mean I have to conform."

"What does your mum say?" I stopped at the door. He knew talking about my mother was a sore subject so why he had to bring it up was beyond me.

"She thinks he's nice."
"You know she says whatever happens under this roof is up to my parents, so regardless if she thinks he's nice doesn't mean that you can date him," he hissed.

"Why is that? Because your family thinks he's low class? Because he has to earn his money and it may start off as low pay? News flash, he's not a part of my life due to the money," I informed Draco who shook his head in annoyance.
"But don't you want better? Don't you want to not try as hard? What happens when his pet project becomes more important than you?"

I felt myself getting heated as I clenched my fisted, taking a step back. "I want to be happy," I reminded him, hoping that he would see that he was the one writing letters in secret out of fear and not me.
"Happy?" he snorted, as if life wasn't at all about being happy.

This was the Draco I got all summer. A dragon that I honestly doubted could change in his ways, the Draco that Melinda thought she could change or at least thought it was a matter of pulling back the layers – a tough claim to stick by.

"He dumped you last year because you needed space! What is going to make him run away this year? He clearly can't handle a Malfoy," he laughed derisively but I couldn't come up with a response before he continued, "Think of how they make the rest of us look!"

That was the last straw. I shook my head and walked out of his room. I didn't know why we had these arguments. It was almost like he was just projecting his unhappiness onto me. Granted I knew he honestly believed in pure-bloodlines and didn't think much of the Weasleys because of their class. I knew he had that ingrained in him, it just always seemed like he'd start to come around into his own and then snap back in place. I kept telling myself he was just scared and I shouldn't push him. It was just so hard to get along with him. Above all I was terrified that he would somehow convince me that he was right.
"Tammie?" I didn't realize I was standing in the hall absently staring off until Mrs. Malfoy approached me. "Is everything alright? How about you come with me and we can have some tea?"

I was reluctant but it didn't look like she was going to take no for an answer. I finally agreed at which she took me down the hall, chatting about the smallest rumours surrounding her group of friends before calling out to the house elf Becky to fetch two steaming hot cups of tea. We were just getting settled on the couch as Becky laid out some scones and the cups of sugar and milk. I felt myself itching to help. One thing I learned very quickly was helping the house elves was a huge no-no and doing so earned them punishments. It resulted in me either avoiding them or just doing it myself never asking for help but if someone else asked them I wouldn't interfere.

"Thank you" I whispered to Becky as she brought out the tea.
"How are you?" Mrs. Malfoy asked after she poured herself a cup of mid-afternoon tea from the Indian-based pottery before pouring me some as well, scooping out the sugar and adding cream. She thought I put too much sugar in my tea and this was her way of controlling it. I knew she wanted to make a proper girl out of me but I'd shake her off every chance that I got.

"I am well," I told her as I took the sugar spoon and added more sugar.
"How about your leg?"
"It's fine" I said without looking at her.
"Tammie, I know the events at –"
"I really don't want to talk about it," I told her as she shifted in the chair, "I'm fine, honestly."
"Would you feel better if I sent a letter asking for a personal escort during the school year?" she asked as I looked wide-eyed at her.
"No, I'd be horrified," I told her as she half smiled. I felt myself relax, that must have been her idea of a 'breaking the ice' opening.
"I don't know who I'd trust anyway; you would've been better off in Slytherin, at least that way Draco could look after you," she let out an annoyed sigh and touched her hair, trying not to get all worked up about the issue again.

When she was finally informed about what happened to Melinda, Bill and myself; she insisted that I were to switch houses at once declaring a talking hat didn't know who I really was, that too many years in America stripped me of my Malfoy heritage. Professor Dumbledore remained oddly calm and when she was done he simply told her all students were sorted as they belonged even if we didn't think it reflected on our intrinsic qualities. I didn't know if he meant that he thought I belonged in Slytherin or if I'd shine as a Gryffindor. Nonetheless his words somehow got Mrs. Malfoy to settle down and leave the matter alone. Now she only complained about it around the house on the rarest of occasion.

"You've been in library a lot. Not getting bored are you," she teased as I quickly shook my head.
"Of course not, although, I was actually hoping to go the Weasleys tomorrow. You see it's my birthday and –"
"Yes, your birthday is tomorrow. We were planning on preparing something just marvellous for you. Trust me, you will love it," she replied as I stared at her blankly.
"Is my mom invited? Fred? Melinda?" I asked as she squared back her shoulders.
"No," Mrs. Malfoy astutely answered whilst sipping on her cup of well-made tea.
"Well then I don't know how it will be marvellous..." I mumbled.
"Listen to me. What happened to you at the end of term was absolutely terrifying and I heard an earful from your mother. I regret not taking more of an invested interest in the company that you keep," she said as I furrowed my eyebrows. "Clearly that Burnner women knew you'd go to Melinda's rescue. It was all a ruse, a planned action to get you there; if you two weren't so close maybe you wouldn't have ended up in that situation, maybe if you had better company to keep watch over you, you wouldn't have wandered off by yourself looking for that silly girl."

I wanted to laugh thinking she was joking but I knew she wasn't which just made me even more upset. I had to get out of this house. Now. "She would've gotten to me anyway! She wanted the both of us. My friendship with Melinda had nothing to do what happened to us. If anything, our friendship saved us from getting killed along with Professor Barrass!"

Mrs. Malfoy rolled her eyes, I knew she strongly disliked the man. Her and Mr. Malfoy often complained about him and were glad to hear he wasn't returning.

"As for the company I keep, that had nothing to do it with it. I only went looking for Melinda because –" I cut myself off, remembering I went looking for her because Draco had come asking me if I had seen her.
"What happened with that Oliver Wood boy? Draco said he was nice, his family is decent, polite?" Mrs. Malfoy asked for clarification.
"You mean that he's not poor?" I mumbled into my tea.
"It's not that Tammie. Oliver Wood is a respectable boy and from a respectable family, of good character and personality with a fine career ahead of him. You heard he was playing as the chaser of Puddlemore United while being so young too?"

I nodded, he mentioned it a few times in our letters. I kept promising to see a game. "Fred plays Quidditch too, you know" I reminded Mrs. Malfoy who huffed, clearly annoyed she wasn't getting anywhere with this line of reasoning.
"You don't need to be so difficult..." she hissed at last, her teacup resting empty on the tray.
"I'm sorry," I said with not a shred of regret in my voice.
"Maybe one day you'll understand. When things get serious and you stop dating him to spite our family, trust me, you'll find yourself wanting more. Think about what you want to do for your birthday and let me know by nightfall." Mrs. Malfoy sighed as she got up, brushing out the seams of her dress and walking off to the library with a swing in her step as if she had won.