A/N: For those of you who are wondering why we've been updating like mad, my co-author and I have finally finished this fic (aside from the epilogue, which is still in progress, but should be finished soon.) We're happy to tell you all that there will be 33 chapters, including the epilogue, and all that's left to do is some editing and revising.

Enjoy!

As Harry took out yet another sheet of parchment he told himself that, no matter what the letter said, this was his last attempt at writing to Andromeda. He racked his brain for bigger, more sophisticated words and came up short yet again. No matter how much he tried to sound as eloquent as Draco typically did━ aside from when he was being a tosser━ he couldn't get the technique down. Checking his watch, Harry was glad he didn't have work the next day. It was late. Draco had probably fallen asleep an hour ago or more. Harry knew he should be doing the same, but he couldn't stop his mind from writing letters, so he figured he might as well give it an actual attempt. Sighing, Harry dipped his quill in ink and gave the letter one final attempt.

Mrs. Tonks,

I'm writing to ask if you would be willing to permit me to visit with my godson, Teddy.

He wasn't sure what else there was to write, really, but the letter needed more substance. He struggled to find the proper words, the proper structure, anything else to add to his poor excuse of a letter. Straining every neuron in concentration, he managed a few more lines.

I suppose I should've asked sooner, but I've been struggling to find my way since the war ended. I hope you won't hold it against me. Teddy means a lot to me. I don't want to be a stranger to him.

Just as he'd thought he was done with the letter he thought of one final thing, something he felt he needed to add if he wanted this letter to mean anything significant.

After what's happened with your nephew and sister, I would understand if you wanted to keep Teddy out of anything that could affect him negatively later on. If it means anything to you, I promise to do my best to protect him from anything that might threaten his chance at a happy life.

-Harry Potter

It was less formal than he would have liked, but maybe that was for the better. Harry decided to assume that Andromeda knew about what had happened already. If she didn't, he would clarify, so long as Draco approved of him telling her.

Harry set the letter off to the side of his desk to let it dry and put a stopper in the inkpot. Standing up, he felt his back crack in multiple places, something that worried him and also felt relieving all at once. At eighteen years old he didn't think he should be crackling and popping when he stood up, but he blamed it on sitting in place for too long and shrugged it off. He'd already changed into his pyjamas before he'd burst in on Draco, so he lay down in his bed and released a deep breath as he forced himself to relax. His nerves were frantically twitching and he hadn't even sent the letter yet. He could only hope that he would get a positive response, but he couldn't stop his worried mind from jumping to the worst possible outcomes. I won the war, he tried to tell himself comfortingly. Even if she holds what Draco and I have done against me, maybe that will convince her to move past it. But he knew deep down that he couldn't use his status as a war hero to force her to let him see his godson.

Clearing his mind took much longer that night than it typically did, causing him to feel tired still in the morning. When he climbed out of bed his eyes immediately went to the waiting letter, the reason for his exhaustion. Taking his watch from the nightstand he saw that it was still very early and thought Draco would still be asleep for a few hours. So he decided to take a walk to the post office in Diagon Alley. That bird of Draco's was unlikely to listen to Harry's pleas to send the letter at this hour, and Harry would wind up waking Draco in the process.

Harry dressed in one of the outfits Draco had helped him pick out and went down to the kitchen for a light breakfast before leaving. Diagon Alley wasn't far, so he decided to walk. His knee was feeling much better now, and it would hopefully stretch his sore muscles a bit.

Walking down the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley, Harry wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings. Mostly he was trying to keep himself relaxed, so when someone sneered his name to his left he hadn't noticed at first.

"Harry Potter," the woman said angrily once more. This time Harry heard her. Turning around, Harry was confronted with a well dressed and very cross looking Narcissa Malfoy.

"Mrs. Malfoy," he said stiffly, bracing himself for an argument.

"Where is my son?" she asked quietly. The volume of her voice didn't stop the threat from residing among her words.

"Home," Harry told her. He hoped that his voice sounded nonchalant, but being face to face with the woman who had threatened to ruin both his and Draco's lives was intimidating, to say the least. Harry had always been somewhat afraid of Lucius Malfoy, but he never thought he'd feel the same way about the man's seemingly gentler wife. He'd been wrong.

"He needs to come to his real home. He needs to come back to the manor where he belongs. This game has gone on long enough." Narcissa continued speaking in a low, threatening tone. "Where is he?"

"Draco is in his real home. Sorry it's not where you want him to be and that he's finally making his own choices for once, but there's not much I can do to help you." He turned and started walking again, only to feel a strong tug on the back of his jumper.

"Please!" Narcissa's cruel voice had changed to a soft sob.

Harry turned back around to face her and saw that she was on the verge of tears. Her lower lip trembled and her eyebrows raised in the middle, putting creases in her normally perfect forehead. Harry saw the lie in her eyes, though. There was a lack of emotion there, despite the moisture. Harry decided to let her speak anyway.

"He's all I've got left. Draco is the Malfoy heir━if he doesn't take his rightful place, our family will be ruined. I know it's difficult for you to understand, but this is bigger than what you think you have with him."

Harry had to use every ounce of strength in his body to refrain from rolling his eyes dramatically. This woman had clearly taken a few acting classes in her life, or else she had a natural talent. Harry silently wondered how many other people━ mainly men, he guessed━ had fallen for this same trick over the years. He saw right through it and refused to play along.

"It's funny that you say Draco is the heir, because he recently received an official letter of disinheritance," Harry said in mock fascination. "I wonder how that lines up with what you just said…" He pretended momentarily to be deep in thought before continuing with a look of bland disinterest on his face. "I'm touched, really, that you would try so hard on me, Mrs. Malfoy, but you're wasting your time."

Once again he turned and began walking away. Narcissa did not try to stop him this time, but Harry distinctly heard her mutter something that sounded like, "this isn't over yet." He tried to slow his heartbeat as he turned a corner away from her. As brave as people thought he was, when it came to confronting Malfoys, aside from perhaps Draco, it was as if his body was rebelling to his decision. His lungs felt like they were only taking half the air they normally should, his fingers twitched, his heart raced, and it was a wonder that he could use his brain at all.

By the time Harry had reached the post office he had thought of at least five comebacks that would've been better than the ones he'd used when dealing with Narcissa. That was the way of things, though, he thought. He silently cursed the fact that the best replies were never available for use when he most needed them.

Harry opened the door to the small office, went to the counter and gave the postal worker Andromeda's full name. He didn't know her address, but any witch or wizard whose house was not under Fidelius protection was registered in the post office records. That meant that his address was not registered, but with the fame he had been forced into, it was for the best, really.

"Thanks, Mr. Potter!" called the postal worker as Harry left the store.

"You're… welcome," Harry said, feeling strange being thanked by customer service personnel rather than the reverse.

Instead of walking home, he Apparated. Though he doubted he would, he didn't want to risk running into Narcissa on the way back. Walking through the front door of number 12, Harry was not paying attention and knocked the troll foot umbrella stand over, causing Mrs. Black's portrait to begin screaming her fool head off.

"Fucking hell," Harry muttered. If Draco wasn't up yet, he was about to be. Quickly, Harry went halfway up the stairs to the portrait.

"Rubbish! Blood traitor! Worthless slimy sludge in my home!" she screeched.

"Calm down, please!" Harry shouted as he struggled to pull the curtain closed again. It seemed Mrs. Black was up for a fight this morning. Why was everyone trying to force Harry to have a bad day?

"Woe are the Blacks, shamed are we! Traitorous scum!" Harry placed his palm on his face in exasperation. No matter how hard he tugged on the curtain, it would not close.

"Let me take care of this," Harry heard from beside him. He jumped, though he wasn't sure how he could be startled with a portrait of a mad woman shrieking in his face. Draco stood next to him, still wearing his pyjamas. In another situation Harry might've commented on the red dragon shirt that went down to Draco's mid thigh, but he decided that could wait until Mrs. Black had shut up.

"Mrs. Black," Draco said calmly, sounding more respectful than Harry had ever heard him sound.

"Horrible abomin━" Mrs. Black stopped shouting to eye Draco suspiciously. "Well hello," she said, sounding apprehensive as she looked back and forth between Draco and Harry.

"Good morning, Mrs. Black. I'm terribly sorry this…" Draco glanced down at Harry with a look on his face that said he was worth as much as a pile of dirt, "ingrate decided to bother you. I've been trying to teach him some manners, but it seems our lessons have not stuck just yet." Harry felt his chest puff up in indignation, but kept his mouth closed.

"That's quite alright, dear," Mrs. Black said, sounding pleasantly surprised. "I was simply concerned that this house, this very prestigious house of Black purebloods, has been tainted by the likes of degenerates."

"Then I am happy to tell you that it has not. Harry, here, has come to me in order to learn the way of true wizards. It's very sad that he didn't already share the proper views that we do, but I believe that in time he will come around. After all, one can only run from the truth for so long." Draco chuckled haughtily.

Harry was seething by this point. He went up the stairs to the drawing room to wait for Draco. Hearing Draco talk that way put a sick, angry feeling in his gut and he couldn't listen to another word of it. Only a few minutes passed before Draco found him sitting in the drawing room.

"Sorry about that," Draco said, rubbing his eyes. It was clear he hadn't fully woken up yet.

"You do that so well, it's almost like you mean it," Harry said gruffly.

"I did that to get her awful screaming to stop." Draco sounded defensive, but sat down next to Harry on the sofa and took his hand. Harry almost pulled his hand away, but didn't. "You don't think I actually meant any of that, do you?"

"It sounded pretty convincing." Harry did know that Draco hadn't meant it, but it didn't make it any better hearing those sentiments coming from his mouth.

"It had to, or she would've seen through it," Draco pointed out. "I thought that, by now, you'd have gotten to know me enough to tell the difference." Harry sighed and realised why he'd been so easily upset. He squeezed Draco's hand once in what he hoped would suffice as an apology.

"You're right. I took that too personally. I think running into your mum today set me off my game a bit."

"Wait, you saw my mother today? When? What time is it?" Draco looked panicked and disoriented, suddenly.

"It's pretty early. I went to the post office to send that letter to Andromeda and ran into her on the way there. I can see why you've struggled to be your own person, now."

"What do you mean?"

"She's really good at manipulation. I'm not quite sure how I saw through her, but I did."

Draco was quiet for a moment and seemed to be debating with himself about something. When he did finally speak, his face was full of hesitation.

"Did she mention me? Or threaten you?"

"You were primarily what we talked about. It was a short conversation, if you could call it that. More like her making vague quasi-threats and sob stories and me standing awkwardly in the street."

"Honestly though, do you ever stand in the street non-awkwardly?" Draco asked. It was a halfhearted jab, Harry could tell. He knew that Draco was bothered if he couldn't form a proper insult.

"Oh, shut up." Harry grinned while he said it, and Draco gave a small smirk.

"So nothing really happened, though?"

"No." Harry sighed and leaned his head back. "I'm not sure what she's playing at if she thinks she's going to be able to convince you to go back by bothering with me. It's not like I have any more control over you than she does."

"I think you'll find you do, actually." Draco's tone was suggestive and he waggled his eyebrows. Harry rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"No, I think I won't, actually," he disagreed. "Go back to bed with that talk."

"Only if you come with me." Draco had the most impish smirk on his face and Harry pinched his eyes closed momentarily. He took a deep breath.

"I set myself up for that one, didn't I?"

"You absolutely did and I'm not taking it back."

"Fair enough," Harry said, trying very hard not to smile. Draco might think he was encouraging him if he knew Harry found him funny when he said things like that.

Harry looked down at their entwined hands and noticed that Draco's Dark Mark was showing. Without really thinking about it Harry reached his other hand across his lap and traced the outline of the skull with his index finger. That is, before Draco snatched his arm away.

"Don't," Draco demanded.

"Why not?"

"I don't need a reason, just don't."

Draco felt Harry's finger on his mark for a split second before he tugged his arm quickly away. It wasn't really that he didn't want Harry to touch it, but he didn't want it to be there in the first place.

"Don't," he demanded.

"Why not?" Harry didn't seem offended by Draco's harsh tone, but he felt guilty for using it anyway.

"I don't need a reason, just don't."

"Did it hurt?"

"No, I just don't want anyone touching it. I don't want it to be there. It shouldn't be there. It's a daily━ constant━ reminder of why I'll never be like…" Like you, he had been about to say. "A good person."

"You're stupid if you think you're not a good person," Harry said with a frown. Draco was about to snap back at him for saying he was stupid, but Harry kept talking before he could. "I didn't mean just now, though. I meant, did it hurt when you got it?" Draco shook his head in confusion.

"Why— why do you care?" Harry's brows scrunched together and Draco's heart was somewhere near his navel. Of course Harry wanted to know about his Dark Mark. It was definitive, physical proof of how different they were, of all of all the horrible choices Draco had made, all while Harry was busy dedicating himself to being the hero. It was a strict mark of separation, and it was permanent, not only on his body, but in Harry's mind as well. For that, Draco hated it most of all. He had the sudden urge to tear at it, but he kept his other hand still. It wasn't as if it would do any good.

"Because…" Harry looked sheepishly down at his hands. "I care about you."

"Did it hurt when you got your scar?" he snapped.

"I don't remember. Probably." Draco had expected Harry to get defensive, but he hadn't and now Draco felt even worse. "Listen, you don't have to tell me if it's that big of a deal. I didn't mean for you to go into detail, or anything. A simple yes or no would've worked."

"It hurt. Tremendously."

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled.

"It was the worst pain I have ever felt in my entire life, possibly even worse than the Cruciatus Curse. It felt as though flame had replaced the blood in my body. It was like having nails drilled into all of your pressure points all at once, and you want it to stop, but it can't. You can't tell him to stop because you have to pretend you're proud, you have to pretend you like this shitty life you've been born into, that you respect the demon that's fucking possessing you while these black lines force their way into your arm permanently. And then you have to look at it. Every. Single. Day." Draco took a deep breath and rubbed at his face. He had relived the moment many times, but never to anyone else. He had never been this vulnerable about it. "The worst part was— him— V-Voldemort— in my body. Well, not my body, really. More like— in the mark, I guess. In my skin. But it was awful. It felt like he could see everything about me, everything I thought, said, did… like he was part of me… I didn't think I'd ever be safe again." Harry wouldn't stop staring at him, and it was making him highly uncomfortable.

He looked down, not wanting to see anything Harry might be thinking. He was either disgusted or pitied him, Draco was sure, and he didn't like the idea of either.

"And they said I was brave," Harry said after a while. Draco's head snapped up as he looked at Harry in disbelief.

"What?" He finally met Harry's eyes. "You had an actual piece of him in you, though. His soul."

"So? That doesn't mean that what you went through was better or worse. There's no comparing things like that. I just… I think that's really brave of you. Ron would kill me if he heard me say that, but it's true." Harry shook his head. "The fact that you would go through that to protect your family…"

"I didn't exactly have a choice in the matter. If I had said no they would've killed me anyway."

"See, that's exactly why I said the things I did at your hearing. And I didn't have a choice either. I was a baby, remember?"

"But you did have a choice in how you handled the war. You walked right up to him and let him kill you."

"People always say things like that like it's so brave, but in the end, it wasn't really a choice. Not if I wanted anyone else to live. It was a preconceived plan and I was just a pawn. Even if I had run away, it wouldn't have made a difference. 'Neither can live while the other survives,' that's what the prophecy said. It was always just him or me and in the end it was sort of both, I guess."

"Wait, wait, wait," he said, waving his hands. "If it wasn't bravery, what you did during the war, then neither was it brave for me to get my mark. It was also a preconceived plan."

"We're not seriously arguing over who's bravest in reverse, are we?"

"In reverse?"

"Yeah, because a couple months ago we would've been claiming the exact opposite of what we are now. Reverse." Draco didn't have a response to that, so he reverted to the topic of the prophecy.

"So that was all legitimate, then? All that talk of a prophecy?" Draco had heard about it, and he knew that it had something to do with why he had gotten his mark, but he didn't realize that the prophecy was a real thing. He figured that the Dark-Voldemort━ he had to face his fears and call him Voldemort━ had been delusional and hell bent on finding any way possible to destroy Harry.

"You didn't know?" Harry tilted his head slightly

"Nobody ever really told me outright. It was always sort of hinted at as if it was real, but… Well, a lot of information was kept secret from me."

"Don't I understand that." Harry rolled his eyes, and Draco couldn't help but cheer a little. Harry understood. Maybe they weren't so different.

"So you've actually heard it, though?"

"Yeah, and I reckon I'm the only one alive now who knows what it said. Dumbledore showed me," Harry replied to Draco's questioning look. "He was the one who heard it in the first place."

"Oh. Right." Draco still didn't know how to feel about Dumbledore.

Some part of him would always be jealous that Harry was the favoured one, but there was also a part of Draco that simply didn't trust the old Headmaster. Perhaps, he considered, it was due to his father's less-than-positive thoughts on the man. Now that Draco thought of it, though, he wasn't sure he would've wanted to be the favoured one if it meant having to walk directly up to Voldemort and take a Killing Curse full on.

"I think we should stop talking about all of this. It's getting pretty heavy." Harry looked sad and Draco did not like seeing that.

"You're right. But… thank you."

"For what?"

"For understanding instead of pitying me or being disgusted."

Harry stared at him for a long moment. There was no discernable emotion on his face, but anything that needed to be said was in Harry's eyes. Draco thought back to when Harry had told him about being a horcrux and realised he was foolish for thinking Harry would react in the ways he'd expected.

Harry lifted Draco's hand, the one with the mark above it, and placed it on his cheek. Harry's cheek was warm, soft and hard at the same time. Draco's mark tingled after several seconds. It wasn't a phantom pain, for once in Draco's life since he'd gotten the mark. Then Harry placed his own hand on the back of Draco's neck and pulled him forward.

Draco had expected Harry to kiss him, but he was wrapped in a very tight embrace. Draco moved his hand from Harry's cheek and hugged him back full-force. Draco felt his insides begin to bubble pleasantly. This was a different hug entirely from the one his mother had given him before he'd left home for the last time. That hug had been brief and guilty. This one was long and full of understanding. When Harry pulled away from the hug, Draco felt bereft, but not for long.

Their lips met, and it was the most gentle kiss they'd shared so far. Draco felt tears stinging his eyes and tried so hard to hold them back, but failed. Harry's lips moved slowly against his, parting slightly every now and then so they could breathe. There was no heat behind their kiss, only emotion. Draco felt Harry's understanding, his pain, his forgiveness, his… maybe not love, but compassion. It was present in the way he brushed feather light lips against Draco's, so careful as if he could break him if he pressed too hard.

Harry was leaning back and taking Draco with him. Soon, Harry was laying back on the sofa, his head propped up against the throw pillow, and Draco was half on top of him. Still, the kiss did not deepen, did not turn into anything other than what it already had been. There was no burning desire, no tightening of trousers. And that was just fine, to Draco. These kisses didn't need to turn into anything else. They were fine the way they were.

Draco leaned away from Harry to look at him again. Those green eyes were concerned and Draco knew Harry saw his tears. Draco hastily wiped them away and replaced them with a smile.

"I'm alright." And it wasn't a lie. He was okay. He looked down at his mark and didn't feel quite so ashamed of himself anymore. Harry didn't say anything, but nodded. Draco lowered his head and let it rest on Harry's chest. The beating he heard was steady, strong, and evenly paced. Closing his eyes, Draco let himself be soothed by the rhythm of Harry's heart.

If Draco didn't know that it would ruin the moment, he would tell Harry that he loved him. Even though the love he would mean by it was the kind that friends━ and Draco was assuming this, since he'd never had a close enough friend to say it to before now━ shared. He knew that he was developing stronger emotions for Harry, but in that moment, with his head resting on Harry's chest, the sort of love he felt was the sort of love he felt as a child. The sort of love he'd felt when his mother would pick him up, suddenly, just to give him eskimo kisses and tell him how smart he was, how proud she was of him. The sort of love he'd felt when Cosmos hooted softly in his ear and nuzzled his neck affectionately. That kind. Harry would probably assume he meant the lover's sort of love, and perhaps he meant that, too. Draco wasn't sure there was much of a difference, aside from intent. At that time, though, Draco said nothing. Nothing needed to be said. He was pretty sure that Harry already knew, anyhow. He was pretty sure Harry felt the same, though it was impossible to know for sure without confirmation, and he didn't need that confirmation. Not yet, at least.

Harry wasn't even aware that he'd fallen asleep until he was being woken up by the feeling of lips against his cheek. He opened his eyes slowly and blinked several times while they focused. Draco was looking down at him, smiling sweetly.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter," he said happily. "You, good sir, have mail." Harry bolted upright.

"Is it from Andromeda?" he asked. Excitement and fear flooded his senses as his gaze landed on the simple looking letter that Draco held.

"Don't know, haven't opened it." Draco handed the letter over before he sat down next to Harry on the sofa, probably to read over his shoulder.

There was no wax seal keeping it closed, only a sticker with a smiley face on it. Strange, Harry thought. I didn't know wizards and witches used stickers. He also noticed that the letter was enclosed in an envelope, just like muggle mail was. Curious, he tore one of the ends off and slid out a piece of lined notebook paper, something he hadn't seen since he'd gone to muggle school as a child.

"This is the weirdest letter I've ever seen," Draco marveled beside him. "What sort of parchment is that?"

"It's not parchment," Harry explained. "It's just plain notebook paper." He was beginning to think the letter wasn't from Andromeda, or maybe not from a magical person in general. "Did this come by owl?"

"Mhm, just a few minutes ago. Weird owl, too." Draco shook his head with a small frown on his lips. "Open it already, see who it's from."

Harry nodded and did just that. The paper was folded in thirds, and as he unfolded it he was shocked by the friendliness that greeted him within.

Harry!

You don't know how happy I am that you've asked to come see Teddy. You're more than welcome here, Harry. I'm saddened that you didn't already know this, but I suppose I can see why.

When it comes to my sister, well… There's nothing really to say, except we have a very strenuous relationship. We're family, so I have to love her, but there's so much that I disapprove of that she does. That is a conversation for another time, though, I should think.

Anyway, you are welcome to stop by whenever you please. I'm at home with Teddy more than I'm out, so really, any time. Perhaps you'd like to join us Sunday at tea time? Teddy will have just woken up from his nap by then, so you'll be able to see him. I'm absolutely positive he'll love you, and what better influence for him to have in life?

I should probably cut this short before I start rambling, and I think Teddy might be hungry, so I'll just give you my address and expect you here tomorrow. Of course, if you can't make it that's quite alright, too, but Teddy and I look forward to your visit regardless.

Yours, Andromeda T.

P.S, feel free to call me Aunt, or Andy, or Annie, or… Well, you get the gist.

He had to read the letter several times before it finally clicked in his head that this was the response he'd lost sleep over the night before. There was no way that this letter was from Andromeda, and if it was then the difference between her and Narcissa was more obvious to him now than it ever had been. Harry handed the letter to Draco, but Draco waved his hand as though he were swatting a fly.

"I read it while you did," Draco said. He sounded mildly reserved.

"So I guess we're going to Andromeda's for tea tomorrow, then," Harry said, sighing in relief. He felt so much better knowing that she didn't hold anything against him. The knot that he hadn't realised had formed in his gut had disappeared completely and he found himself breathing easily and feeling altogether lighter.

"No, you'll be going. I wasn't invited." He was sulking, that much was clear.

"She's your aunt, though," Harry pointed out. "I'm sure she'd be alright with you coming, too. It's just tea."

"Harry." Draco said his name thickly, as though we were trying to force him to understand through just saying his name why it was impossible.

"Draco."

"I can't go. You read the letter. My mother did less in the war than I did, how do you think she feels about me?"

"She seems understanding, but if you're really against coming you don't have to."

"I'm not coming," Draco said, still sulking. Harry briefly wondered what happened to the Draco from before, who was opening up and letting himself feel vulnerable. Perhaps he'd experienced too much vulnerability for one day and was now hardening himself.

"Fine, suit yourself." Harry's stomach growled loudly. "Did Kreacher make breakfast?"

"Yes, and lunch." Draco pointed to the coffee table, which held a trey of warm food waiting to be devoured by a very hungry Harry.

As he filled a plate with the potatoes and beans and other things, he decided to completely ignore Draco's mood. He would either have to get over himself and go with Harry to Andromeda's, or get over himself and stay home. In any case, Harry wasn't going to let Draco's bad mood bring his good one down.

"I think I'm going to visit Father tomorrow," Draco said suddenly. Harry was taken aback by Draco's statement.

"Do you think you'll be allowed to?"

"Why wouldn't I be? I'm his son, and as far as I know there's no restrictions about family visiting inmates." Draco sounded defensive. So much for their good mood earlier.

"Then I think that's a great idea." Harry did not think that it was a great idea. If Lucius looked anything similar to how Draco looked when he was at his hearing, Draco was bound to come home in a right state. Harry would inevitably be the one to clean up the aftermath.

A thought dawned on Harry, though, as he thought of the possible abuse Lucius might be subjected to. Harry had had that talk with Kingsley discussing the behaviour of his guards, so perhaps the guard, or guards, who had hurt Draco would be removed from guarding Azkaban. It was certainly a possibility, but Harry wouldn't get his hopes up just in case.

"Are you sure you don't want to wait until I can go with you?" Harry asked. He thought of Draco running into the guard who had beaten him and knew that, even though he was no longer a prisoner, he would not be received well.

"I'm fairly sure I can handle myself, thanks," Draco replied snappishly.

"Just offering, no need to be a prick," Harry said, sounding just as snappish.

"I'm going for a walk," Draco said quietly. Without waiting for Harry's response Draco left the drawing room and went downstairs. Harry waited until he couldn't hear floorboards creaking before he reopened the letter and read it once again.

He just couldn't believe this letter had been so… so kind, for lack of a better word. It was like she didn't care about any of the things Narcissa had most likely told her. In fact, it sounded as though she did not agree with the way Narcissa was handling the situation with Draco. But then he could've been misinterpreting the letter. She could've been talking about anything Narcissa had done, really.

Harry sat in the drawing room along for hours, sometimes reading the letter, sometimes snacking on the tray of food, sometimes just thinking. Draco hadn't come back, but Harry wasn't very worried. Like Draco had said, he could handle himself.