AUTHOR'S NOTES: In terms of pairings in 'Harry Potter' I have to be honest—I do NOT like Harry/Ginny. It's way too much like history repeating. My personal preference in Harry/Hermione since those two seem more suitably matched.

Now, in this story, I know some people don't like the Draco/Ginny pairing and if you don't, that's fine. But please be aware that there are technically two stories in this fic—Harry's illness and recovery along with the romance of Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley. And while there is a focus on Draco and Ginny right now, over the summer, the focus will shift dramatically back to Harry.

Chapter 8

Tumbling out of the Weasleys' fireplace on Christmas Eve morning, Sirius was surprised that Harry wasn't there in the living room to greet him. After brushing off the soot and ash and vanishing the mess when he caught Molly's stern look, he asked, "Where's Harry? Upstairs in his room?"

Molly nodded. "I told him you were coming today but… for some reason he said he didn't want to see you."

"What?" Sirius said, confused. Why wouldn't Harry want to see him? Shaking his head in disbelief, he headed upstairs to Harry's room and found the teenager sitting on his bed, still looking incredibly tired. "Merry Christmas," Sirius said as he entered the room, giving his godson a warm smile

"Go away," Harry muttered, not looking at his godfather. "You don't want to be around me anyway," he said in a somewhat harsh tone.

Sirius sighed as he leaned against the doorframe, realizing that Harry was upset at the fact that the two of them had talked very little since the term had begun. "It's not like that at all, Harry."

Looking up at Sirius, Harry asked, angrily, "Then what is it? You never even came to see me once. We only talked on the mirrors one time and even when I was in London, you seemed to avoid me." Tears stinging his eyes, he went on. "I needed you, Sirius. Yeah, Aunt Petunia and Dudley were there but… But I didn't need them. I needed you."

Sirius was finding it hard to look into Harry's eyes, seeing the hurt and anger in the teenager's face. "I know you needed me, Prongslet," Sirius replied, sadly. "And I know to you this is just one more time I wasn't there for you." Stepping into the room, he added, "I know you've been through Hell, Harry. I can't even imagine how it must have been for you these past months. But for the rest of us… the Weasleys, your friends, Luna… me… It's been Hell on all of us as well." Sitting next to his godson, Sirius tried to explain his absence. "It killed me to see you sick, Harry. When Molly told me that you had cancer, my world fell apart. I thought I was going to lose you. I remember vividly what it was like watching James go through round after round of chemotherapy. I could bear thinking that you would be going through that as well. Especially after losing your leg."

"I'm still here, Sirius," Harry said, quietly, feeling his anger ebb away. Glancing at what was left of his right leg and the prosthetic he wore, he added, "Maybe not all of me…"

Pulling Harry into a hug, not caring about the tears sliding down his face, Sirius said, "I don't care about that, Prongslet… I don't care if you're missing your hair… or even if you were missing both your legs. I'm just relieved that you're going to be okay." After a moment, he asked, "Are you still mad at me?"

"I don't think I was ever really mad at you, Sirius," Harry replied, hugging Sirius back. "I was just… hurt, I guess. I thought that maybe you were giving up on me."

Looking at Harry, Sirius made sure his godson was looking in his eyes before he said, "I will never give up on you, Harry. Never."

xxxxxxxxx

Standing outside on the upper porch later that day, Ginny asked Draco the question she'd been mulling around for a while. "Why did you really come here? I know it wasn't just so you could talk to Dad about courting me."

Draco smirked at the fact that Ginny had picked up on that. Of all Ginny's traits, it was her intelligence he'd found least surprising since she was nearly on par with Hermione. "You're right," he admitted, quietly. "I didn't just come here for your father's approval. I also came because I didn't really have anywhere else to go." Seeing Ginny's shocked expression he continued, "My father found out about my courtship of you. Needless to say he was not happy about it and responded by cutting me off from the Malfoy fortune. Snape and Dumbledore are working to ensure he stays away from your family while they find a permanent place for me to live." Leaning against the railing as he thought about his options for living arrangements, he added, bitterly, "I hear Azkaban is lovely this time of year."

"If you're having regrets about being with me and losing your money—" Ginny snapped, wishing she had her wand on her. "—then by all means—dump me. Go back to your fortune and position and tell Daddy it was all a mistake."

"Malfoys never have regrets," Draco assured her, smiling, as he took Ginny's hand, looking into her beautiful brown eyes. "And I certainly have no regrets about courting you."

Trying to still be angry, Ginny frowned as she said, "You are the most arrogant, the most…" He attempt faltered when she saw the smile on Draco's face and the twinkle in his eye. Smacking him in the chest she said, "You are SO bloody infuriating!"

"Another Malfoy trait," Draco replied, gazing into Ginny's beautiful brown eyes. "And although I have been unfamiliar with the feeling in the past… I do believe I love you, Genevra Weasley."

To Petunia, the best Christmas gift the following morning was the sight of Harry making his way down the stairs and into the living room where everyone else in the house was gathered around the Christmas tree by the fireplace. He smiled as he sat between her and Dudley on the sofa and for the first time since starting his treatments, Harry actually looked like he was getting some healthy color back in his face. "You look good today," Petunia commented as Fred and George passed out presents.

"I actually feel good," Harry replied, grinning. "I woke up this morning and I wasn't anywhere near as tired as before. Mrs. Weasley's cooking helps. As does not being on chemo."

"Yeah, Mrs. Weasley cooks way better than Mum," Dudley admitted, earning a glare from his mother. But instead of looking remorseful, he just shrugged. "What? It's true."

"Well, whatever the reason you're looking better…" Petunia said, cheerfully. "I'm just glad it's all over for now, Harry. I was starting to worry for a while. Even after the chemo was stopped you didn't seem to have any appetite at all."

"Thanks, Aunt Petunia," Harry said, gratefully. He wanted to say something to his aunt about being grateful that she'd been there for him, but he wasn't quite sure how to say it. Finally, he just added, "For everything."

"Trust me, it was the least I could do after…" Petunia stopped but she could see that Harry understood what she'd been trying to say.

xxxx

After opening presents and eating breakfast, Petunia and Harry went back to the living room and sat down on the sofa again. Harry looked a bit more tired than he'd had earlier, but he still seemed to be doing okay.

"I've been talking with Molly," Petunia said, not beating around the bush. "And we've decided—if you want to—you can come straight here for your summer holidays." Seeing that Harry was taking this news as a rejection, she went on. "You can come back to Privet Drive if you want. Either for part or all of the summer. I just thought I'd give you the choice. Despite how well the two of us have been getting along… Molly still doesn't seem to like me much."

"Well, she's heard for years how awful you were to me," Harry said, bluntly. Shrugging, he added, "You can't really blame her, can you?"

"No," Petunia replied, nodding in agreement. "I suppose not." Looking at Harry's prosthetic and the cane he was still using she asked, "How are you doing?"

"As best as I can, considering," Harry said. "It's still weird walking with the prosthetic. I miss having a normal leg. Mostly, I'm just hoping to get past being sick so I can get back to having a life again."

"I think that's a wonderful outlook," Petunia said, giving her nephew a smile.

xxxx

The rest of the day was spent in good cheer and around 6 in the evening Mrs. Weasley called everyone to the magically expanded kitchen table where a beautifully roasted turkey held the place of honor in the center of the table with almost 15 different side dishes scattered everywhere. There were three different types of potatoes, asparagus casserole, grilled sausages, rolls, and a myriad of other items.

Sitting opposite Ginny, Draco felt a bit tentative as he helped himself to the food but he attributed the feeling to the fact that this was his first time at a genuine family meal. Usually if he went home for the holidays the house elves would create an incredibly elegant feast and the only actual conversation between Draco and his parents was a polite 'Merry Christmas' as they all sat down at the long banquet table.

At the Weasleys' table, however, everyone was talking, laughing, and smiling cheerfully as they ate and drank, sharing stories and memories.

It was a warm and welcome change and Draco couldn't get enough of the warm and cozy atmosphere.

Turning to Draco after taking a second helping of mashed potatoes, Petunia asked, "How long are you staying with the Weasleys, Draco?"

Draco exchanged a look with Ginny before replying. "I'm not sure. I…" With a resigned sigh he said, "I… don't exactly have a home right now."

His words stopped all conversation dead until Harry asked, "What are you talking about?" Had Malfoy's parents kicked him out of the house?

"My father found out that I was courting Ginny and he made me choose between Genevra and the Malfoy fortune. I chose her over my family. Father disowned me," Draco explained, flatly.

Not quite believing what he was hearing, Arthur Weasley said, "You're saying that you chose my daughter over your own family?"

"And I'd do it again," Draco replied, smiling at Ginny. "If there's one thing I've learned from Genevra—and from these past few days—it's that some things can't be bought…that money isn't everything."

"A Malfoy walks away from gold and riches…" Fred mused, still surprised by Draco's declaration. "Hell must have frozen over."

"I don't care how decent he's been!" Arthur Weasley shouted, angrily. "I don't care how much he seems to care for our daughter! I will NOT have Draco Malfoy living under our roof!"

It was almost midnight and Molly had just suggested the unthinkable.

"Arthur, please," Molly said, calmly, as she tried to reason with her husband. "He's been wonderful to Ginny and he did give us 200,000 galleons. We could consider it an advanced rent payment for room and board."

"No," Arthur insisted. "The idea of him courting Ginny is bad enough. Allowing him to stay here? No. I refuse to do it. The Malfoy's are the worst pureblood bigots. And my only hope is that Ginny comes to her senses and walks away from this nonsense before—"

"He turned his back on his family!" Molly shouted, trying to get her husband to see the reason in her argument. "He's chosen our daughter over the only life he's ever known! If that doesn't prove that Draco Malfoy is sincere then I don't know what does!"

His anger growing, Arthur shouted, "The whole Malfoy family is evil! And I'll be damned if I let our daughter become one of them!"

xxx

Outside on the lower porch Ginny and Draco stood listening to the argument inside. "I knew it," Ginny said, sadly. "I knew Dad would never let us be together." Leaning against the railing, she stared out at the snow. "It was a foolish dream, Draco—us being together."

"Is that all this has been to you?" Draco asked as he felt an uncomfortable clenching in the pit of his stomach. "A fling? A distraction?"

"No," Ginny replied, shaking her head. "But I love my family. I don't want to alienate them over this."

Draco took Ginny in his arms, hoping that somehow he could change her mind. "But I love you. I can't let you go now."

"Draco, I'm not like you," Ginny protested. "I love my parents. They're good people and I can't turn my back on them."

"Then don't!" Draco said, shouting. "You don't have to choose between one or the other!"

"But I do!" Ginny cried. "My parents don't want us together!" She pulled away from Draco, tears falling down her cheeks. "Draco, you've been wonderful to help me through all this… You know, with Harry. And I do care about you, but…"

His heart clenching along with his stomach, Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. He wouldn't let her go! He always got what he wanted! 'Not this time', a little voice in his head whispered. 'Do what you have to do. If you truly care for Ginny, you'll respect her wishes.' "But you love your family more," Draco said, quietly. Taking a few steps back, he nodded. "I'll… I'll leave tomorrow. I'll go back to Hogwarts to stay for the rest of the holidays."

"Draco…" Ginny breathed, softly, her eyes pleading. 'Don't leave without a fight. Fight for me, please!'

"You made your choice," Draco replied, flatly, trying to hide the pain he felt inside. "I may not like it but I will respect that." Taking her hand and kissing it softly, he whispered, "Goodbye, Ginny." Turning away, Draco headed into the house and walked silently past Ginny's parents who seemed surprised that Ginny wasn't with him. 'Happy now?' Draco thought, bitterly. 'I just threw away the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me and I did it for the sake of your family harmony.' He went upstairs to the room he'd been sharing with Harry, Ron, and Dudley—all of whom were in bed, but still awake.

"You're a great bloody idiot," Harry said, when Draco came into the room.

Not even thinking of how they knew about the breakup, Draco went to the camp bed in the corner and sat down. "I'm doing what's right," he grumbled as he got ready for bed. "Isn't that what you Gryffindors do? Do the wrong thing for the right reasons or something like that?"

Sitting up and glaring at Draco, Ron said, "There's a difference between doing what's right and doing what's easy. And if you're just giving up because being a good guy is too hard—"

"You hate me!" Draco snapped, irritably, staring in disbelief at Ginny's youngest brother. Why couldn't he just be allowed to surrender for once? "Your whole family—except Ginny for some inconcievable reason—hates me!"

"So?" Ron countered. "You're Draco Malfoy. You don't stop until you get what you want and damn anyone who gets in your way. Why are you suddenly just lying down and letting people walk all over you?"

"I'm not going to—" Draco took a long, slow breath. Suddenly it felt like the world was turned upside down. "Your sister has decided that your family means more to her than I do. I'm respecting her wishes. I care about her too much to hurt her by forcing her to choose between me and her family."

"You're not even going to try and fight for her," Harry said, amazed. What was going on here? Why was Draco Malfoy acting like a spineless coward instead of the ruthless, take-no-prisoners Slytherin he was?

"It's not a fight I can win," Draco said, glumly. "Isn't it better to bow out with dignity and grace than go down in flames?"

"Some fights are meant to be won or lost," Dudley said, in—what Harry thought—was an uncharacteristic moment of wisdom. "This isn't one of them. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley want you to give up without a fight because then they've intimidated you into surrendering. Now they realize that you can be intimidated and that makes you look weak. You have to fight to show that you're not going to back down every time they do a bit of parental muscle flexing."

Neither Draco nor Ginny got any sleep that night, each trying to make sense of what was going on between them. There were strong feelings, certainly, but also obstacles to be overcome. The question was whether they wanted to remain in their separate, safe worlds, or brave the unknown and take a chance at something that could be wonderful and life-changing.

Alone in her room, Ginny looked around at the Quidditch posters on her walls. Sure, she was a good flyer, but not as good as Harry was. And her grades were top of her class but she still wasn't the genius Hermione was.

It hurt to see Draco walking away from her and as cold as the snow was, it was colder in the room as Ginny thought of not having Draco with her anymore. Maybe it was her mother's influence, but when she looked at him these days, she saw someone who needed someone to take care of him. Someone to care about him.

Ginny loved her parents and her family more than anything, but the way she felt when Draco wrapped his arms around her… like there was a whole other world out there and she had only to say the word before he took her away to it. And the comfort she felt with him was matched only by when she was held by her mother. The idea that someone cared about her so deeply and was willing to do anything for her with no thought to the consequences.

Ginny got out of bed and paced her room for a while. She had to think of a way that she could have her family and the boy she loved. She'd just found what she'd been missing for so long… she couldn't let it slip away without a fight…

x

Standing out on the upper porch, Draco tried to think of another time he'd felt this low. He loved Ginny. He wanted nothing more than to be with her. She brought wholesomeness and a light that he'd never had before in his life. Suddenly, it wasn't just about winning, or being top dog. He wanted something real in his life. But at the same time he was afraid. He'd never truly cared for anyone before and he didn't count himself anymore. The idea of putting someone before himself was strange, but at the same time when he thought about how others had praised Harry Potter for doing the same thing, Draco found that he wanted that kind of warm spotlight too.

"Draco?"

Turning, Draco felt like whooping with joy when he saw Ginny standing in the doorway in pajamas and slippers, looking hesitant, but at the same time, elated. "Ginny…" Draco said, looking into her brown eyes and finding a happiness there that he'd never known before. He felt like suddenly he was capable of anything as long he had this incredible young woman beside him.

In an instant, Ginny threw herself at Draco who immediately wrapped his arms around her, reveling in the way they fit together so perfectly. Yin and yang… light and dark… riches and love… Gryffindor and Slytherin.

"I don't care if Mum and Dad hate you," Ginny whispered as she held on to Draco. "I love you. I couldn't bear it if you left."

"I'm sorry, too," Draco said, his gray eyes meeting Ginny's. "I almost walked away from the greatest thing to ever happen to me. You trusted me enough to be vulnerable with me… even after everything I've done over the years. That's when I realized that I had to be with you… no matter what. That you were more important than anything else I've ever had."

"You gave up your whole life," Ginny said, smiling. "Just to be with me… I can't just throw away that sacrifice." She hesitated a moment and finally added, "I don't want to give this up."

Sprawled in the armchair he usually treated like a throne, Voldemort felt his last stores of strength painfully ebb away. Each breath was painful and even small amounts of moving seemed to exhaust him. His body was seized with pain worse than anything he'd ever felt in his life and for the first time, he wished for death.

Seeing Snape standing next to him, Voldemort's voice was barely audible as he rasped, "The boy… Potter… his blood has poisoned me…"

"It could be that Lily's protection is working against you," Snape said, calmly, as he tried to hide the pleasure he was taking in the slow, agonizing death of the Dark Lord.

"No…" Voldemort replied, quietly. "No, this is… something in Potter's blood." Glaring at Snape, Voldemort said, "You know what I am infected with. You knew of his disease and that I would suffer as well." Trying to lunge at Snape, The Dark Lord fell to the ground, groaning as he felt his insides writhe with agony. "What is… happening… to me…?"

"I believe you are dying," Snape replied, and there was a smile behind his sneer. "Given your present condition, I would estimate that you have a few hours at best." Standing over Voldemort, Snape pulled out his wand, even though he had no intention of using it. "If you tell me what I want to know… I will consider easing your passing." Waiting until Voldemort's eyes met his, Snape asked, "Why didn't you spare Lily? We had an agreement. I would be your servant if you would spare her life."

"She was… protecting her son…" Voldemort said, quietly, his lungs feeling as though they were compressed by some huge weight on his chest. "I… gave her the… chance. She… refused."

His eyes growing cold, Snape put his wand away. "You never intended to spare Lily," he said, coldly. Stepping back, Snape relished in the desperate, pleading look on the Dark Lord's face. "You deserve to suffer. You deserve to know this pain."

"You… will… not… leave me!" Voldemort gasped, trying to sit up. His heart rate slowed and his world grew dark. With his dying breath, he wheezed out, "I… am… Lord… Voldemort…"

The last thing he heard was Snape's angry voice saying, "You are NOTHING."

Arriving back at Hogwarts after the holidays, Harry was greeted by some shocking news. "Voldemort's dead?" he said incredulously as he sat in Dumbledore's office. "How?"

Dumbledore considered his response carefully before replying to the question. "Last year when Voldemort took your blood he believed that he was also taking the blood protection your mother gave you when she gave her life for yours."

"But… that's not all he took… is it?" Harry said, starting to understand. "He took the cancer, didn't he? Is that what killed him?"

Dumbledore nodded. "The cancer spread quickly through Voldemort's body since he declined muggle treatments. Snape has informed me that Voldemort died of respiratory and heart failure as a result of massive tumors in the heart and lungs."

Sitting in his chair across from the headmaster, Harry felt conflicted. True, Voldemort was dead and it was a huge weight off of his shoulders, but at the same time it had been Harry's blood that had ultimately caused Voldemort's death. "Sir…" Harry said, trying to sort out his feelings. "Going through everything—the chemo and all—is it… wrong to be happy that Voldemort suffered like I have before he died?"

"Voldemort robbed you of a life with your parents," Dumbledore replied, honestly, looking at Harry and understanding that the teenager needed to feel like he wasn't callous. "He's caused you endless troubles over the years and last year he killed a friend. Your desire for revenge is entirely understandable."

"I heard about You-Know-Who," Luna said, serenely as she entered the Owlery that evening and walked up to Harry who was standing at one of the many windows. Looking concerned, she asked, "How are you doing?"

"I was happy," Harry said, vaguely, as he continued staring out the window.

"I know," Luna said, putting a hand on Harry's arm and giving it a comforting squeeze.

Thinking that Luna thought he meant that he was happy that Voldemort was gone, Harry shook his head. "No, you don't understand—it's not like that. I…"

Luna looked Harry in the eye, giving him a soothing smile. "I know, Harry. You were happy You-Know-Who suffered and that—indirectly—you caused it."

Harry looked away, feeling ashamed of his emotions. "I'm no better than the Death Eaters, getting pleasure from the death of someone."

"You didn't hurt You-Know-Who on purpose. You didn't know this would happen," Luna replied, calmly. "You're nothing like the Death Eaters."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Early the next morning, Harry was awoken by Anna Rion gently shaking his shoulder. "What's wrong?" Harry yawned, pulling on his glasses before sitting up.

"Sorry, Harry," Anna said, helping Harry get his prosthetic on. "Madame Pomfrey found me last night. She wants to check you over before you head to class this morning."

"Haven't I been poked and prodded enough?" Harry grumbled as he grabbed his clothes and started to get dressed. "I thought I was done with all this."

"You've been through more than enough," Anna agreed as they headed down to the hospital wing. "But I think this is more of a check-up rather than a barrage of tests."

"I hope so," Harry muttered, sitting on one of the beds as Madame Pomfrey came out of her office.

"Well, you're certainly looking better," Pomfrey said, brusquely as she came out of her office. "How's the IV port?"

Harry pulled off his sweater and undid the first few buttons at the top of his shirt, exposing the central line which was still inserted in the vein just below his collarbone. "It's fine. Although since I don't need it anymore, can we take it out yet?"

"No," Anna replied, shaking her head. "Not until we know for sure you've beaten this." Seeing Harry's disheartened expression, she said, "We'll consider it after your next blood tests in April. We want to make certain that you don't need the port anymore."

As Pomfrey did a few minor diagnostic spells, she asked, "Any lingering nausea?"

"No, not so much," Harry said, relieved. "It's a good thing, too. Mrs. Weasley was trying to fatten me up over the holidays, I think."

"Well, that's good news. Although I'd still watch your diet for a while, just in case," Pomfrey said, as she frowned at something from one of the magical scans. "Are you having any hot or cold flashes?"

"Uh… I get slight cold shivers," Harry admitted with a shrug. "But given that it's winter…"

"If they get worse, come see me," Pomfrey instructed him. "Your immune system is still low and you're still a slightly anemic. So we'll do a few more packed-cell transfusions and we'll give you a few potions to help boost your immune system."

"Since your immune system is still bouncing back," Anna added, looking concerned. "You need to tell us immediately if you feel sick at all. If you feel faint, or nauseous… How have you been sleeping?"

"Much better," Harry said, starting to feel like he was in the middle of a medical interrogation. "It still takes me a while to fall asleep, but…"

"If that continues," Pomfrey said, eyeing Harry. "Let me know and we'll give you something for it."

"Okay," Harry said, feeling just a touch irritable. "I got it. I feel any less than 100 percent come straight here."

Anna gave him a stern look. "Harry, just because you're in remission, doesn't mean you're done being sick."

"I know I'm not really out of the woods yet," Harry snapped, impatiently. "But can't I just enjoy the fact that I'm okay right now?"

"Absolutely," Anna replied. "As long as you understand the fact that just because you're fine now doesn't mean you're going to stay fine. If you get sick—even just a cold—it could be very bad for you. And it will be a while before you're back to normal."

"Normal being a relative term, of course," Harry muttered.

Following Draco Malfoy down the hallway towards the Slytherin Common Room after breakfast, Snape stopped the teenager just as he was about to give the password to the dormitory. "If your goal was to avoid trouble due to your father being a Death Eater then why continue this act with Miss Weasley?" the Potions Master asked, curiously.

Draco turned and looked at his Head of House, frowning slightly. "You think this is an act? That my father and I conspired and laid out this elaborate plan right down to him practically disowning me? I am making an honest change. This is no act, Professor."

"I know you, Draco," Snape said, coolly. "And you may have Miss Weasley, Potter, and everyone else convinced but I know better. What are you really up to?"

"You've never wanted to change in order to win the heart of a lady?" Draco asked, an eyebrow lifting in curiosity. Snape stiffened and even though Draco could tell he'd struck a nerve, he did not press it. If Snape didn't wish to discuss it, then obviously it was something personal.

Snape didn't want to reveal that Draco had made a good point. If Lily had lived, Snape had no doubt that he'd have gone through Hell itself to be a man worthy of her affections. But those dreams were long gone. If Draco was determined to continue with his charade, then Snape decided to play along. "If you wish to become a different person," Snape said, stiffly. "Then I shall treat you differently. I will not tolerate your previous behavior nor will I show you such leniency as I have before."

Draco studied his mentor and saw that the man was dead serious. With a nod, he replied, "I understand, sir."

"You are expected to turn in your assignments on time," Snape went on, looking for a crack in the teenager's resolve, but surprisingly there was none. "And if you step out of line, I will give you detention like any other student."

"Noted, sir," Draco replied, nodding.

Snape was hesitant but as he watched Draco go into the dormitory, he resolved to test the young man's resolve in class later that day. Having Malfoy work with Neville Longbottom during the lesson would prove that Draco was still the same person he'd been before.

xxxxx

In the potions classroom, Draco tried to conceal his surprise as Snape seated him with Neville Longbottom who seemed equally surprised. Catching the Potion Master's eye, Draco caught a look that said 'Prove yourself, Mr. Malfoy'. Giving the most miniscule nod that he understood what the professor was trying to achieve, Draco started setting up the cauldron and other supplies. "Look," Draco said, trying to sound helpful as he turned to Neville. "You get the ingredients and measure and I'll put everything together. Okay?"

Neville nodded before doing a double take. Was Malfoy actually being nice? "Y-you're… actually h-helping me?"

"We're working together, aren't we?" Draco shrugged. "Just… try not to melt the damn cauldron, Longbottom."

"It's not like I plan on things like that happening," Neville protested as he pulled out what ingredients he already had in his potions kit. "Snape just makes me nervous."

"Ignore him," Draco said, calmly. "Focus on what you're doing and pretend he's not there. Snape is only scary if he knows you're afraid."

"He doesn't scare you," Neville said, doubtfully. Why the Hell was Draco Malfoy being nice all of a sudden?

"Not since I was confronted by Mr. Weasley over the break," Draco muttered. Seeing that Neville was still confused, he added, "I've been courting Ginny Weasley."

No one else in the classroom could say for sure what happened. All anyone knew was that one second Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom were talking and setting up their station to prep and brew their potion… and the next Neville had lunged at Draco and started hitting every inch of him that he could.

"Longbottom! Malfoy!" Snape snarled, angrily, while several of the other students pulled the two teenagers apart. "Detention!"