A/N: It's chapter two!! Where things start to take off. Enjoy! If you catch any mistakes please let me know. I think I've gone over this pretty well, but there's always something…

-oOoOo-

Chapter Two:

Reunited and It Feels So Good

Ron could not recall ever having a worse week. His mum had been crying frequently, the smallest thing would set her off—just the other day she burst into tears while doing the laundry—and Ron had no idea what to do to help her.

Honestly, he was more worried about George, who seemed to be walking around in a daze with no idea what to do with himself. Ginny, who aside from George and his Mum was taking Fred's death the hardest, had finally been able to urge George to return to the joke shop.

Ginny had been in London every day since then, leaving early in the morning and not returning to the Burrow until very late at night. She told Mum that she was helping George put the shop back together, and told Ron that she spent the evenings with George passing a bottle of firewhiskey between them, and putting George to bed when he finally would pass out.

Hermione had left to fetch her parents from Australia four days ago, and Ron hadn't heard from her yet. He'd spent some time with Harry at Grimmauld Place, and the two of them had visited Andromeda Tonks and little Teddy Lupin several times, and those visits were the only bright spot in the week since the battle.

Harry, who'd been as devastated by the deaths of Fred, Tonks and Lupin as the rest of them, literally seemed to come back to life (as if he hadn't done that to them already) when Mrs. Tonks had plopped the little boy into his godfather's lap for the first time.

Teddy had looked at Harry with wide blue eyes, and then scrunched up his face like he was going to cry. Harry had panicked, and looked around for Mrs. Tonks, but then Teddy let out a brilliant laugh and his head was covered in a very messy mop of black hair. Just like Harry's. Harry had laughed in delight, and since then all one had to do when he looked depressed was mention Teddy, and all was right again.

Ron had been avoiding the rest of his family to mourn the loss of his brother (and mope over his world traveling girlfriend) by holing himself away in his room, so when he got an owl from Harry asking if he wanted to join him at Hogwarts he immediately packed a bag and went to tell his mother.

"Of course you should go, dear," she sniffed, and wiped away a stray tear. "It's good of you to want to help."

Awash in guilt for wanting to leave home so very badly, he asked, "Mum, will you be all right?"

She smiled bravely. "Eventually, dear. And I'd like you to enjoy your summer. F-fred would be very upset with us all if we didn't have a little fun now and then."

"I suppose he would."

"Off you go. Give Harry my love."

"Course, Mum." After a very long hug, and a kiss to her cheek, he was gone.

-oOoOo-

"I should stay," Ginny said.

"You should not," said George. "Here, take these… and these… oh, and a few of these. Cause some trouble, will you?"

Ginny took the bag filled to the brim with Wheezes. "Are you sure?"

"Lee and Percy are coming to help out with the re-opening tomorrow, and I've got to hire a replacement for Verity. Everything's going to be just fine."

"George, I don't mind staying. I wouldn't mind helping you out for the rest of the summer."

"No. Fred would have kicked you out that door, and so shall I. Now, out with you, pest."

Ginny rolled her eyes, and gave her brother a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back."

"Hey, Gin?" he called after her. "Thanks for… putting up with me."

"What are pests for?"

-oOoOo-

"He's got to be joking," said Pansy, as she read Draco's owl.

-oOoOo-

"Daddy, shouldn't I help you with the magazine?"

"I only want you to be happy, my precious tulip. And you've not had any time to be a child. No, I'm afraid I must insist you spend the summer with your friends."

"If you insist, Daddy."

"I do, aspen leaf."

-oOoOo-

"Mum, I'm really sorry. I just wanted you and Dad to be safe."

"I know, Hermione."

"And I really do need to get back. There's so much to fix. The wizarding world is such a disaster, you don't even know…"

"I know, Hermione."

"… I'm sorry, Mum."

"Just go, sweetheart."

-oOoOo-

The students arrived one by one three days after the owls went out. Only two sent their regrets.

Harry had been diving with Zabini and Nott again, and only saw Malfoy when he left the library at mealtimes and briefly in the evenings before the four boys fell into exhausted sleep. Harry was fine with this arrangement. He wasn't quite sure how to deal with Malfoy now, as the blond was no longer hurling insults at him, and even his sneers seemed half-hearted.

Zabini and Nott though were great fun, and Harry wished he'd gotten to know them sooner. Zabini was never without an outrageous comment or a dirty story, and while Nott was quiet, he never treated Harry like he was anything special, which was just the way Harry liked it.

The boys spent three days swimming through the Slytherin dormitory, armed with Bubble-Head and warming charms, and dragged trunk after trunk through the murky water.

Nott had enchanted the torches to give off light, though they were underwater, and Zabini had set off some water-purification spells just in case, and on the whole it was a lot like being in a great stone swimming pool. It was fun, but also a lot of work.

The entrance to Slytherin House was located in the lower dungeons, and opened into the common room which Harry had seen only once in his second year. This was where the windows had broken, drowning the common room and cascading downwards on twisting stone staircases leading to the dormitories. Nott and Zabini had started with the first year dorms, located just below the common room, and had worked their way downwards. With any luck, the three boys would be able to haul up the last of the trunks from the seventh year girls' dormitory, and finish the job that day.

Harry couldn't imagine living in Slytherin House, where it was so cold, and the windows only let in murky green light from the lake. He much preferred Gryffindor Tower, which was airy and bright. The Hufflepuff Den, as it was known, was very nice in it's own way. The Den was on ground level with wide arched windows that looked over the grounds to the Forbidden Forest, and the dormitories themselves reminded Harry of a cross between a Hobbit's house, and appropriately enough, a badger's den. The dorm the boys were sleeping in belonged to Hufflepuff first years, and each boy had his own hallowed out area, with a four-poster bed, a desk, and a wardrobe fitted into the walls. Harry quite liked the illusion of privacy, as did the two Slytherin boys, who complained loudly that really it should be the Slytherin students who had such a set up. The common room opened up to an enclosed courtyard, which explained the mystery of why the Hufflepuff students were rarely out on the grounds with the rest of the school.

All in all, Harry liked his summer accommodations, but wished he could be back in Gryffindor Tower, which still felt so much like home.

Ron was the first of the other students to arrive. Harry found him standing in the Great Hall with a dismayed expression on his face as he looked at the enlarged list of damages, which Malfoy had posted on the wall. Nothing more had been marked off the list since Harry had first seen it, as the house-elves were at an end to what their magic was capable of.

"Harry," Ron said faintly. "Have you seen this?"

"Yeah."

"It's bad." Ron made a weak noise in his throat. "Gryffindor Tower?"

"Hole in the roof."

"No…"

"Yeah, I know. Could be worse. Ravenclaw Tower is structurally unsound, and Slytherin is completely underwater."

"Really?'

"Don't sound so excited."

"M'not."

The boys exchanged grins.

"Have you heard from Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Not yet. I think she'll be back soon though. I wish she'd let me go with her."

Harry made a hmm of agreement, but privately felt that Hermione was going to have a sticky mess on her hands, and Ron would only complicate the situation. Though it didn't make Harry feel any better about it. The whole situation was his fault. "She'll be back soon, mate."

"Yeah, I know. I miss her though."

"Me too."

"So who's all here? Did you owl the whole DA?"

"Well, the thing is—"

Just then Malfoy came into the Great Hall, the house-elf Gigi at his heels chattering away.

Malfoy stopped short at the sight of them, and Gigi went quiet and began to wring her fingers together. Ron gaped, and Harry watched his friend's face as shock and then outrage twisted Ron's features. "Malfoy?!"

"Weasley." Malfoy's voice was perfectly inflectionless, the same absence of tone that he used when he absolutely had to speak to Harry.

"What are you doing here?" Ron turned to Harry. "What's he doing here?"

"Well, Ron," said Harry, with a fair amount of amusement and a hearty clap on the shoulder, "this is, as they say, Malfoy's party."

"What?"

"Yes, thank you for that, Potter," said Malfoy, scowling. "Don't you have something to do?"

"I just came in to mark something off the list. We finished the trunks," said Harry.

"Ah. Good then. Where are Blaise and Theo?"

"Wait," said Ron, "Zabini and Nott? Are all the Slytherins here?"

"No," said Harry. "It's just the four of us so far, and now you." Harry plastered on a grin, and hoped Ron wouldn't lose his head. He quite liked Nott and Zabini, and Malfoy, despite his many faults, really was doing a good thing and doing it well. Harry didn't want to start fighting again. He'd had enough of that, thank you very much.

"Blaise and Theo?" prompted Malfoy.

"In the Den," said Harry. "They wanted to catch some sleep."

Malfoy nodded, dismissing Harry and Ron as unimportant. While a year ago that same nod would have filled Harry with righteous anger, now it made him want to snicker. Malfoy was just so… unintentionally funny.

Gigi began chattering to Malfoy again, and Harry watched as the blond boy pulled down the list and added several new items at Gigi's prompting.

"Harry," hissed Ron, pulling him aside as though Malfoy couldn't hear them in the empty hall, "what the hell is going on here?"

Harry laughed. He was really glad Ron was here, finally. "Come on, Ron. I'll show you the Hufflepuff Den, and fill you in on the way."

-oOoOo-

Potter led Weasley from the Great Hall, and Draco let his shoulders drop. The golden duo, together again. What joy. They were only waiting on Granger now, and then his torment would be complete.

Potter had sent out owls to most of the members of his little defense club, and soon the school would be over-run with Potter lovers, who wouldn't pay Draco one bit of attention, but would look to Potter for their orders. And then just like that all the work Draco had done would be attributed to the Great and Good Harry Potter.

Draco scowled, as the quill slashed violently across the parchment, noting another broken window on the fourth floor.

"Is Master Draco all right?" asked Gigi.

"I'm fine."

The elf didn't look convinced. "I will make Master Draco a coffee. That always makes youse feel better."

A reluctant smile pulled at his mouth. "That would be great, Gigi. Thank you."

"Master Draco is being a great help to the elves." And the elf was gone with a small pop.

Draco replaced the list, and wandered out of the hall, intent on digging through the ruin of the library once more. Flitwick had responded to McGonagall's message, and had given the names of a few books to look at, though Draco had yet to find them.

Yet another unpleasant surprise was waiting for him in the Entrance Hall.

Luna Lovegood was leaning against the wall, palms flat and cheek pressed to the stone with her eyes closed, and she was crooning.

"Oh," she said, in her dreamy voice. "Don't worry. Everything will be better soon."

Draco just stared.

She opened her eyes, and suddenly he was fixed in her gaze. "Oh, hello Draco."

She'd always said the exact same thing in the exact same way when he'd been ordered to bring food down to the people in the cellar of the Manor. Like she was pleasantly surprised to see him. Like he wasn't one of the people holding her captive. He'd hated it. It made him feel wretchedly guilty for not doing a thing to help her.

"Lovegood. What are you doing?"

"I'm giving Hogwarts a hug." She smiled. "The castle is very pleased with you. She's very glad that you're helping her."

"The castle?"

"Of course. You've been helping her heal. She's very grateful for you."

"Oh. That's… that's great. I'm just on my way to the library."

Luna gave the wall a fond pat. "Would you like some help?"

Draco hesitated before answering. On the one hand, Luna had been held captive in his house for several awful months, and he really didn't want to dwell on that any more than he already was. On the other, he could really use the help, and she was a Ravenclaw.

"Lovegood, why would you want to help me?" he asked, voice a little harsher than he would have liked.

"You were kind to me," she said. "When I was at your house."

Irritated that she didn't just call it what it was, but made it out to sound like a pleasant holiday, he snapped, "How was I kind to you? I never spoke to you."

"I know. The others did. You were just as scared as I was."

Draco couldn't deny the truth in that statement, and didn't want to imagine what the others had said to her. "I suppose so."

She smiled brilliantly, and audaciously hooked her arm around his. "Lead on," she said.

"Right."

-oOoOo-

Pansy Parkinson followed the noise.

She heard Blaise clearly, his voice loud and melodramatic over another choking with laughter.

Upon entering the Great Hall, she stopped and blinked, because the scene didn't make any sense.

Blaise was standing on a table, brandishing his wand and clearly doing a very bad and very over-the-top reenactment of the Dark Lord's final duel (if one could call it that) with Potter. Ron Weasley was bent double, laughing so hard that he was choking, while Potter and Theo looked on. Potter was blushing a deep scarlet, and protesting that he didn't sound like that at all.

"Zabini," she said, catching the attention of all four boys. "Have you been at the pixie dust?"

"Pansy! So glad you could make it, I'm nearly at the best part."

"Oh, no. Please stop," said Potter.

"No, no, go on, Zabini," gasped Weasley.

Mindful of what her last words in Potter's presence had been, she approached the boys cautiously. Potter was not known for his mild temperament after all, nor his great capacity for forgiveness. But he only nodded at her, chagrined smile still on his face, and turned to poke Weasley in the ribs. "Get a hold of yourself, Ron."

"Can't," said the redhead. "S'too funny!"

Pansy sidled up to Theo. "How have you been, Pansy?"

"All right. How about you?"

"Oh, you know… trying to keep busy."

"I'm sorry about your father, Theodore."

He nodded sharply. "He'll get the Kiss. He deserves it."

Pansy wanted to pat Theo's arm or something, but he'd never been one for casual touches—not like Draco who drank affection and attention up like a man starving of thirst—so she settled on nudging him slightly and a small but supportive smile.

Blaise hopped off the table and gallantly took her arm. "Come along, Pansy. I'll show you to your accommodations."

"So hard labor is your idea of a good summer holiday as well, Blaise?"

"It's magic, Parkinson. You'll not even break a nail."

"I'd better not. Really, I don't know what Draco is thinking…"

Blaise hummed a bit. "Well, you know how Draco is with his elaborate plots. I suspect this fits in somewhere."

There was no need to mention that Draco's elaborate plots always backfired spectacularly, but they exchanged bemused smiles all the same.

"And where does it fit into your plot, Zabini?"

"I get to spend the summer with my friends, hopefully get lucky a time or two, and put this whole nasty war business behind me." He smiled lecherously. "Where does this fit into your plots, Miss Parkinson?"

"I quite like your plan, Blaise. That sounds like a very nice summer holiday."

"It will be nice to act our age for once," he said, stopping at a portrait. "Behold your summer accommodations." The portrait swung open and her eyes were assaulted with a riot of bright yellow and black.

"Oh, my God."

"Yes, Pansy. For the summer we are all honorary, loyal, hard-working—"

"Oh, God. Not Hufflepuff."

-oOoOo-

The small group of students and Headmistress were eating dinner in the kitchens, and Harry thought they were all behaving very well, all things considered. Nott mentioned finding a shortcut to the Charms corridor that he'd never seen before, which prompted a discussion among the rest of the secret places they'd come across in their explorations of the castle. While this provoked a heavy sort of silence from Draco's end of the table, and Harry and Ron weren't quite sure what they ought to say on the subject, the rest of them had no compunctions about describing their own discoveries of the castle.

Zabini and Parkinson had the most to share, and Luna drew Malfoy and Professor McGonagall into a conversation about the broken charms in the Slytherin common room, and Harry and Ron did their best to fill in the silences in the 'secret places' discussion without giving too much away regarding a certain map and the many dangerous adventures they'd had in Hogwarts.

Yes, all was going very well—and then Neville arrived.

His hair was windblown and his cheeks flushed, making the scars on his face stand out in stark white relief. He was grinning as he blew through the door, but the smile faded quickly as he took in just who his friends were dining with.

"Hey, Nev," said Ron, oblivious as always.

"Ron," he said, and slowly, like a great cat wary of an attack, taking a seat. "Harry."

"How have you been, Neville? I'm glad you could come," said Harry.

"Here, Neville," said Ron, passing a plate. "Try the chips. They're great."

"No, thanks, Ron. I'm not hungry."

Neville was glaring especially hard at Nott, who had his head down and was now pushing food around on his plate.

"I'm very glad you could join, Mr. Longbottom," said Professor McGonagall. "How is your grandmother?"

"She's doing well, thank you, Professor. Is Professor Sprout here? I was hoping I could talk to her about the greenhouses and what she wants done."

"Professor Sprout is not here at the moment. She is visiting family. I expect her back sometime next week, though in the meantime I would appreciate anything you could do in the greenhouses, Mr. Longbottom."

Malfoy cleared his throat. "There's a list of damages in the Great Hall, but I'm not as familiar with the greenhouses as you are so I've probably missed some things."

"Sorry?"

"Malfoy has been here for a week and a half, Neville," said Harry. "He's the one who started all this."

If anything, Neville's face grew even harder. "I see. I think I'll go take a look at that list."

He left, and Harry could see the stiffness in his back. "I'll just go with him, then…"

Ron waved him away with a fork full of chips, and the Slytherins seemed to relax again as Neville left the room.

Neville was stomping away down the hall, his hands bunched in fists. "Neville, wait up!" called Harry.

The other boy whirled on him. "What the hell is going on here, Harry? What were you thinking?"

"I—I don't—" Harry had never seen Neville angry, much less had it directed at him.

"Those—those people—"

"Look, I know Malfoy isn't the most—"

"Malfoy? What does Malfoy have to do with anything? I'm talking about Nott and Zabini!"

"What? What did they do?"

Neville laughed harshly. "You don't have any idea, do you, Harry? You have no idea what it was like here!"

"I only know what you've already told me, Neville."

He snorted derisively and began walking again towards the Great Hall. "You didn't even ask, did you? Merlin, have you even talked to Ginny?"

"Not exactly," Harry hedged. But there just hadn't been time. What with Fred's death, and Ginny spending every free minute with George, and Harry himself getting to know his godson, and tying up loose ends, like giving Malfoy his wand back which had somehow turned into a summer-long reconstruction project… Neville rolled his eyes. "Look, will you just tell me what your problem is?"

"My problem is them! Them and all the others who seemed to delight in the Carrows' idea of punishments! Crucioing us in class! Stringing up first years in the dungeons for days! Laughing about it! Nott getting off on using the Unforgiveables like Cheering Charms!"

"Nott?"

Harry couldn't really wrap his mind around that, as he'd never really noticed Nott during school, and now that he'd spent some time around the other boy all he'd thought was that Nott was rather quiet with a wry sense of humor. Nothing about Nott had struck Harry as the behavior of a Death Eater (which Nott was not, Harry had seen his bare arms) or even as a malicious individual.

"You've no idea what it was like here, Harry! You don't know what they were like, or you wouldn't be sitting down to dinner with them and laughing like you're friends!"

"Oh, bravo, Longbottom. You've completely missed the point, as usual."

The boys turned towards the voice. Pansy had followed them into the hall, she had her arms crossed over her chest and her foot was tapping.

"You were no better, Parkinson," snapped Neville.

"Things were bad for you, Longbottom, because you made them bad for yourself. You and all your friends drawing attention to yourselves, and unable to keep your heads down and just shut the hell up—but what else can one expect from Gryffindors?" She stood nose to nose with Neville and poked his chest with a thin finger. "Do you think we thanked you for getting detentions? Do you think we relished having to cast the Cruciatus Curse on our stupid classmates? Do you think that we liked being forced to do that? Do you think we liked having to act as if we liked it?" She shoved him, and Neville's back hit the wall.

"Why couldn't you all just shut yourselves up in your tower and keep quiet?" she shrieked. "You've no idea how Theo felt after it was his turn to curse you lot! He was sick with it! In the bathroom for hours, and Blaise had to carry him back to the dorms and force calming potions into him! So don't you dare blame this on him, Neville Longbottom, because you did it to yourself!"

"What did you expect us to do, Parkinson? Bow and scrape to those sadistic Death Eaters?"

"I expected you to use your heads! One week into term Blaise created an Apathy Hex so powerful that it lasted a week and he wouldn't do anything, and I had to do all his assignments, and Theo had to force him to eat and get out of bed. But eventually he got it right, and he'd hit all of us with it before we went to Dark Arts class. Cheering charms before Muggle Studies and meal times."

"You expect me to buy that? That you didn't think Carrows' twisted version of Muggle Studies was funny?"

Pansy snorted. "You know nothing. My father owns the second largest media network in Britain. Including a Muggle television network! I'd be willing to bet I know more about Muggles than you do. I've probably spent as much time in their world as any Muggleborn at this school. So, no, Longbottom, I didn't think Muggle Studies was funny—other than what a joke Carrow made out of it.

"And no one knows what my father does for a living, so don't you breathe a word," she glared at Harry. "Neither of you!"

Harry nodded, and Neville looked mutinous.

"What about wanting to hand Harry over to the Death Eaters then? How was that using your fucking head?"

"Neville, I don't—" said Harry, feeling a 'Ron and Hermione argue over Harry' moment coming on, and wanting no part of it.

"I was scared!" screamed Pansy.

"We were all scared! He was the only one who could save us! And you wanted to hand him over to be killed!"

"No one believed that! He'd disappeared! We all thought that was how the rest of our lives were going to be—terror and watching our steps. None of us thought Potter could actually win!"

"Guys, really, it's okay. I don't—"

"Well, why don't you apologize?"

Pansy spluttered. "For what? He went ahead, and handed himself over anyway!"

"That's hardly the point!" yelled Neville.

Pansy shook her head, and rolled her eyes. "Make sure you don't put him in the same dormitory as Theo, Potter. Theo doesn't need to deal with this shit every day." She stalked off.

The hall was quiet, with just the sound of Neville's harsh breathing breaking the hush.

"Well," said Harry. "That was something."

Neville kicked the wall.

"Do you want me to show you to the dormitory?" Harry asked.

"No, I know where the Den is. I'm going out to the greenhouses for a while. I'll see you later, Harry."

"Yeah, okay."

"Sorry about all that."

"No, don't—don't worry about it. I don't know what it was like, you're right."

"Still, I shouldn't have gone off on you like that. You didn't know… I didn't know."

"I don't think any of us did, but I don't think we were supposed to. Sneaky Slytherins and all."

"Yeah."

Neville left, and Harry sighed and slouched against the wall. If even Neville, who was usually so even tempered, was this angry with their Slytherin classmates he didn't even want to think of how the others would react. Especially Ginny.

-oOoOo-

Greenhouse Three was utterly unsalvageable. Neville kicked at a bit of twisted metal, and looked despairingly at the tangle of Venomous Tentacula that had wrapped itself around the broken wall.

He turned at a sound – glass crunching under footsteps, and saw Luna winding her way towards him.

"Giants," she said.

Neville sighed. "Yeah."

"The others look okay."

"The glass is blown out in Greenhouse Two, and Seven is completely over-run by Devil's Snare."

"I see. Perhaps none of it can be fixed." Her voice sounded uncharacteristically downtrodden. Neville didn't like it.

"No," he said. "It will just take some time and effort. That's all. You'll see, Luna."

She planted herself at his shoulder and gave him a gentle nudge. "That's called reverse psychology, what I did just now."

It took him a moment, it always did with Luna, but he broke into a smile.

"You got me."

"Other things can be fixed too, Neville," she said.

His smile dropped, and he nudged at broken glass with the toe of his shoe. "I don't know about that."

"Hogwarts, the Houses, the students… everyone who was hurt. Healing that much hurt takes time and effort too."

"I suppose you're right."

"So does forgiveness."

"Luna, I don't think—"

"Time and effort," she insisted. "We have plenty of the first, but the second… well, you have to want to do that, don't you? And we are none of us Hufflepuffs, so I expect we shall have to work extra hard."

He snorted out a laugh. "Are you ready to forgive them? Even after everything?"

She looked at her shoes, radish earrings swinging, and frowned. "No. Not yet. But I don't blame them, either."

Neville put his hand on her shoulder. He hadn't expected that answer from Luna. He'd never known her to carry a grudge or to even be angry. But he considered her words, and they rang true.

"Someday," she said. "But not today."

"Maybe tomorrow?" he said, trying to inject a hopeful note into the conversation, because he really didn't like seeing Luna feeling like this.

She smiled. "Yes. Perhaps tomorrow."

-oOoOo-

"I think that's all of it," said Harry, as he tossed another armful of clothes onto his bed in the second year boys' dormitory.

He'd taken Pansy's advice and set Neville up in a different dormitory than Nott, and Ron had followed, and it seemed weird not to room with Ron and Neville, even though Harry hadn't wanted to encourage House segregation.

It was all made worse by Zabini rolling his eyes at Harry as he unloaded the wardrobe, and Nott quietly looking the other direction. It was as though the past few days hadn't happened, and they were back to labeling each other 'Gryffindor' and 'Slytherin'. And ne'er the twain shall meet.

Admittedly, it was nice to know he was no longer sharing quarters with Malfoy. Harry still didn't know how to deal with the blond and his recent helpful actions.

"I can't believe how much better the Puff's dorms are," marveled Ron. "How come we don't get this much room?"

"I suppose there just isn't enough space in the Tower to spread us all out like this," Harry replied.

"Still, it's nice." Ron flopped back onto his bed, and crossed his arms beneath his head. "And Neville and I are here now, so you don't have to room with the snakes anymore."

"I didn't mind it. I got along with them well enough."

"Even Malfoy?" Ron asked shrewdly. "I don't see the two of you ever getting on, mate. Not that you'd want to."

"I didn't see much of him. He was in the library most of the time. I mostly spent time with Nott and Zabini."

Ron grunted. "I suppose Zabini isn't so bad. Not all that sure about Nott though. He's a bit shifty."

"He's just quiet."

"Well, it's a shifty sort of quiet."

"It is not," said Harry, rolling his eyes.

"I expect I'll get used to it. S'not like the snakes are going anywhere, and summer's only just started. I'll play nice if they do."

"Will you really? Even with Malfoy?"

"Sure," said Ron, waving a careless hand. "Why not?"

Harry, suspicious and amused, said, "This has something to do with Hermione, doesn't it?"

"Does not," Ron muttered quickly, but his ears turned red.

"All right. But I'm sure she'll think you're being very mature if you play nice with the Slytherins."

"You think?"

"Yeah," laughed Harry. "I'll bet you get a snog out of it."

Ron threw a pillow at him. "Shut up, Harry." But he looked pleased, nonetheless.

-oOoOo-

The windows of the Hufflepuff common room looked to the east, which was rather unfortunate if one had fallen asleep on a sofa there, as Draco learned the next morning.

He squinted against the glare of the dawn, made that much worse by the over-abundance of yellow in the common room. He had to fix the windows in Slytherin, he thought. There was none of this awful morning sunlight in Slytherin, where the light was either cast by lamps, or faintly green and filtered through the lake.

"Did you sleep out here?"

Draco started, and nearly fell off the sofa. Potter was dressed for the day, though he looked like he'd rolled out of bed and decided to wear the same clothes that he'd slept in, as they were very wrinkly. Draco scowled at him. Potter always looked like that. Wrinkled, sloppily dressed, and his hair… Draco hated Potter's hair. It made him want to reach for a comb and a bottle of hair potion, and attack the unruly mess until it behaved.

But the hair was Potter all over. Draco suspected there was about as much hope for the hair as the boy it was attached to.

"What does it look like?" Draco snapped.

"I was just—oh, never mind."

Draco rolled his eyes and snapped for a house-elf. He utterly loathed mornings, and outright refused to deal with anyone until he'd had some coffee. Dealing with Potter would call for several cups of the stuff.

The elf arrived, flashing a smile, which Draco had no patience for.

"Gigi, I need—"

"I has Master Draco's coffee, sir." She snapped her fingers and a tray appeared on the table in front of Draco. "Gigi knows that Master can't live without it."

"Smart elf," he mumbled, inhaling the steam.

"Coffee?"

Draco turned and sneered at Potter, who was hovering behind the sofa and looking needy.

"You're still here?"

Potter sighed, sounding annoyed. "Yes. Still here. Can I have some?"

Draco clutched the pot of coffee jealously. "No. Get your own."

"Oh, come on, Malfoy. Just a cup."

Draco growled.

"Gigi will get Mister Harry Potter a cup," said the elf.

Potter, the obnoxious prat, smiled gratefully at the elf and without even asking, sat down on the opposite end of the sofa. "Thanks."

A steaming cup of coffee appeared in front of Potter, who sniffed the steam in an uncouth way, and then moaned in satisfaction as he sipped. Draco was disgusted.

"We never had coffee at the Gryffindor table," Potter said. "Only tea."

Draco ignored him and prepared his morning salvation, adding an extra sugar, because he felt he was going to need it.

"Did you have coffee at the Slytherin table?"

Great Merlin, as if Draco didn't hate Potter enough already, the prat had to tack on being a dreaded morning person. "Of course we had coffee. It was the only thing that kept us from—" Draco realized belatedly that saying that coffee kept Slytherins from killing their annoying classmates probably wasn't the right thing to say given current company in the current climate.

Potter snorted anyway.

Draco resolved to ignore Potter until he went away.

Pansy stomped into the common room looking inordinately angry, even if it was early morning and Pansy liked mornings about as much as Draco did. She winced at the brightness of the room, and dropped into a chair near Draco.

"Is that coffee, Draco?" she asked, and fell upon it like it was her own personal holy grail. Draco graciously allowed her a cup.

Pansy sipped with a relieved sort of sigh. "Lovegood sings in the shower," she grumbled. "Can you believe it?"

"Yes," said Draco.

"She makes a damned good alarm clock. Though why anyone would want to wake up at such an ungodly hour…"

Potter chuckled, and the two Slytherins glared darkly at him. Laughter did not occur for Slytherins till well after breakfast.

"Great Merlin, Draco, did you sleep out here?"

Draco closed his eyes and leaned back into the sofa. "Unfortunately."

"You look awful."

"Fuck off."

Pansy gave an acquiescing sort of hum, and there was blessed silence for a moment.

"Why are you two up so early?"

"Sun. Bright," Draco offered.

"Couldn't sleep," said Potter. There was something off in his voice, though, and Draco knew it was a lie, but didn't much care about Potter's sleeping habits.

Pansy raised an eyebrow, noting this as well, and turned back to Draco. "What are we meant to do today, Draco?"

Draco gestured towards a pile of parchments on the table. "I made a list of things that need to be done before the architects and curse breakers come on Monday. I'll hand out assignments at breakfast."

"Lovely," sneered Pansy.

"No one forced you to come," Draco said lightly.

She snorted. "Right."

Draco smirked. His letter to Pansy had been a touch heavy-handed, but she shouldn't have expected anything different.

"Why did you come?" asked Potter curiously.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Because we're fine upstanding members of society, Potter."

"No, really," he insisted.

"Word to the wise, Potter," said Pansy, "Slytherins like to be enigmatic. Learn to live with it."

"I suffer from an unhealthy amount of curiosity. I don't think that will happen."

"Well, you know what they say about curiosity," Pansy served back.

"Let me guess, cats die?"

"Cats? Potter, you are truly unhinged." She stood, trying to look haughty and failing. "I need to dress for the day. Hopefully Lovegood has finished caterwauling."

Needing to shower and dress as well, and needing even more to be out of Potter's presence, Draco left with Pansy without a backwards glance.

-oOoOo-

Leaving the Muggle world for the Wizarding one was a shameful relief for Hermione. Her parents had been so angry with her—no matter how she'd tried to explain her actions as being for the best and only to keep them safe, they refused to understand. Her father had yelled—actually yelled—that it wasn't up to her to protect them, that protection was their job, and her mother had been quiet, and had frowned at Hermione's wand whenever she'd seen it.

Her father had shouted that ought never have allowed her to attend Hogwarts, that the wizarding world had done nothing but put her in unnecessary danger, and Hermione hadn't had the heart to argue with him.

Whether her parents liked it or not the wizarding world was where she belonged. She was not a Muggle.

Seeing Hogwarts again, no matter its condition, was a balm to her soul. Even better would be seeing Ron and Harry again. It felt like it had been years, rather than only a week.

She met Neville and Luna on their way out to the greenhouses, and unsurprisingly, they told her that they had just left Ron in the kitchens.

Hermione's first glimpse of her boyfriend sent her heart skittering in her chest. There was no logical cause for it, but Ron looked taller, broader in the shoulders, and altogether more handsome than when she'd seen him last.

He had a stack of toast wrapped up in a napkin in one hand, and was absently shutting the painting of the bowl of fruit with the other.

"Ron!" she called.

He turned, and a brilliant smile lit up his face. He chucked the toast, ran to meet her, and whirled her into his arms. "You're back!" he cried, and kissed her.

She laughed giddily, feeling happier than she had in ages.

"Yes, I'm back."

-oOoOo-

It was just Draco's luck that he wound up leaving the Den at the same time as Potter, and that they were both headed to the Great Hall.

"What do you suppose I should be doing today?" Potter asked.

All this civility was wearing on Draco's nerves. Where was the easy hostility? The biting comments? The rabid insults? He suspected Potter was at fault—he usually was—but Draco hadn't done much to put Potter in his place. That changes now, he decided.

"It all depends on what you're capable of, Scarhead. Which isn't much." Unless there was a broomstick or a Dark Lord involved, Potter was useless.

A glimpse at the other boy was enough to know that they were nearing being back on track. Potter's face was pinched with annoyance.

"I'm capable of just as much as you are, Malfoy."

"I doubt that very much."

Potter opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it closed again. No doubt wanting to keep their fragile truce going.

"Oh, go on, Potter," Draco drawled. "Just say it. Don't be afraid to hurt my feelings."

"What feelings?" he snapped.

Draco stopped and grabbed the other boy's elbow. "Look, Potter, we are not friends. We will never be friends, and while I'm very grateful you didn't leave me to die in the Room that doesn't mean we have to be nice to each other. I don't want to be nice. I don't want to owe you anything, so just—"

"You don't owe me anything!"

"It's called a Life Debt, you ignoramus."

"And your Mum saved my life not an hour later, so I think we're even, Malfoy. I'm not—"

"She did what?"

Potter waved this away. "It doesn't matter. We're even, so you don't owe me anything. I don't see what's so wrong about being civil to each other."

"Potter, we've never been civil. I don't even know how we'd do it, and what's more, I don't want to! I want things to go back to the way they were before. I want things to be normal!"

"Normal as in at each other's throats for no good reason?"

"Oh, there was plenty of good reason," Draco snarled.

Potter waved his arms around like a demented monkey. "I don't want things to be the way they were, I want things to be better!"

"I sincerely hope you're speaking in generalities, Potter."

"Oh, sod the hell off, Malfoy." And Potter stomped away.

"That's more like it," muttered Draco.

-oOoOo-

Ginny looked at Hogwarts and wanted to cry. The castle looked as broken as she felt. The memory of Fred's body lying so still in the Great Hall washed over her. Her brother and so many others… Ginny shook the memories away, and blinked quickly to dispel any threatening tears. She had spent the last week thinking of nothing but Fred, and she was tired of feeling sad and wrecked.

Far across the lawn, near the greenhouses, a glint of gold caught her eye.

"Hello, Ginny!" called Luna.

Ginny waved back, heartened by the presence of a friend, and slowly ascended the steps into the Entrance Hall, thinking of how she used to skip up them.

The summer would be a pleasant one though. Being at Hogwarts with her friends, with no classes, no Death Eaters, and no war hanging over their heads… Ginny was looking forward to it.

It was lucky, almost like fate, she thought, that the first person she saw upon entering the school was Harry.

True, he had a dark look on his face, and was stomping, and looked like he'd just come from potions class where Snape had been in a particularly foul mood… but Snape was dead. And good riddance, thought Ginny. No matter what Harry said about the man, she would not forgive him for allowing the Carrow's to run wild over the school. She could not forgive him for the atrocities that he had allowed to occur.

"Hi, Harry," she said, voice echoing through the hall, though the words had been spoken softly.

He started, and looked at her a moment, eyes going wide. He shot a glance behind himself, and bit his lip.

"Hey, Ginny."

Feeling abruptly twelve years old and hating it, she hugged herself. At least I'm not blushing, she thought. Another glance at Harry made her relax. He looked at least twice as awkward as she felt.

"That's not much of a greeting for your girlfriend," she teased.

He smiled, and pulled her into his arms for a hug. "Are you my girlfriend?" he asked.

Ginny buried her face in his t-shirt and held him tighter. What a silly prat, she thought.

"I'm yours if you want me."

He kissed her hair. "I want."

"Good," she said, and pulled back to mock glare at him. "Then kiss me, you berk."

He laughed, and Ginny grinned at the sound. He was about to do just that, threading his fingers through her hair and tilting her chin up when—

"How sweet. The hero and his damsel reunited."

Harry sighed, and released her completely, throwing an irritated look at Malfoy.

"What the hell is he doing here?" asked Ginny.

Malfoy smirked, looking just as cocksure as he always had—if one could forget that pinched, white look he'd worn often this past year. Ginny hated it. How could he look like nothing had touched him, like he'd waltzed through the war, and come out the other end perfect and preening with not one shining lock of hair out of place.

"He's—he's here because…" said Harry. The smirk wiped cleanly from Malfoy's face.

"Potter, what exactly did you tell people in those letters? I suppose you made it out like this was all your idea," snarled Malfoy.

"What is he talking about, Harry?"

"I did not," Harry shot back. "I said we needed help fixing up the school. That's all."

"So you didn't mention my part in this? At all?" said Malfoy.

Harry looked uncomfortable. "I'm not trying to take this from you, Malfoy. I just didn't know if people would help if they knew…"

"If they knew that Slytherins were here? This is one of those 'good reasons' I was talking about, Potter." Malfoy glared hatefully at Harry. "We're supposed to meet with McGonagall at nine. You get your people together and I'll get mine, and you will damn well set the record straight."

Ginny didn't bother to watch Malfoy stalk away, though Harry did.

"The Slytherins are here?" she asked, her voice remarkably calm for all the anger boiling in her stomach.

"It's just Malfoy, Parkinson, Zabini, and Nott." He was still looking after Malfoy, and frowning.

"Just," she said shortly. "We're to spend the summer with them? God, Harry, do you have any idea what they did?"

"I have an idea," he said, turning his frown onto her.

"Then how can you expect us to even be near them?" she shouted, anger getting the better of her.

"Oh, I don't know," he said sarcastically. "I foolishly thought that the war had ended and we might be able to put all that old hatred of each other behind us and move forward!"

"Malfoy is a Death Eater!"

"I know that, Ginny."

"Do you? Then why do you want to spend the summer with him?"

"I know better than you what Malfoy is!"

"Why are you defending him?" she shouted. "You can't possibly expect me to spend another minute in the same vicinity as that—that— And the others! Do you know what they did?"

"Yes," he snarled. "Neville told me."

"Did you listen?!"

"What is wrong with all of you?" he said. "The war is over! There are more important things to do now than holding onto your hatred of all things Slytherin!"

"That's not what I'm doing!" she shrieked. "You don't know what it was like here!"

"I'm so sick of hearing that! Just fucking explain it to me then!"

Ginny gave a wordless cry of frustration, and felt as though she would start to cry any moment. This was not how things were supposed to go. She turned on her heel and made for the doors.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I'm going to find Luna," she snapped. "Don't come after me."

"Oh, don't worry," he snarled.

And with that, the tears started, but she wouldn't let Harry see.

-oOoOo-

A/N: All right. Just to make things clear. This is not going to be one of those all the dark people are right and all the light people are wrong stories. I hate those. This is an 'everyone is wrong' story. The war, while it has a winner, didn't really make heroes out of anybody (except for Harry, of course), and even those who were cast as villains weren't actually. It's all a matter of perspective, as the children will learn.

Reviews are love.