Draco's POV:

I hated my father.

Sure, I used to idolize him, no matter how awful he treated me. But now was different. I was actually making something out of the bum I called a life. I had actual friends (who oddly enough used to be many of the people I considered enemies), and there had been enough people spread around that my father disowned me, so the general public doesn't absolutely despise me. After almost a year, I had actually pulled enough of my life together to find it decent enough to live. And of course, when it seemed the tide was turning and everything was looking up, my father decides to un-disown me, and let me move out of Zabini's place (honestly, his parents were lovely, and I felt more welcome there than I did in my previous home) back into the manor.

My first thought as a Slytherin was Hmmmmm, peculiar. Since when does my father regret something? Hmmm-oh yeah! Never. Then I got to thinking Well, it's obvious he wants something from me. What could I possible offer him? Of course, then I started telling myself Oh my poor father must have gone crazy. I was pretty sure he cared for me like a cat cares for dogs.

I pondered it for a while, by myself. (Yes, I told you I had real friends, but that doesn't mean I opened up to them like some ninny). Really, I've been doing too much thinking lately. I honestly am starting to think I'm going insane. So of course, when I tell you I decided to move out of Zabini's comfortable house and back into the cold, awful-memory-filled manor and become a part of the Malfoy family again, that's my excuse; I'm insane.

And here I was, the third day back home, and I honestly missed my old life. Everything had gone back down the drain. I couldn't talk to my friends as much. We owled, but that was it. Rumors spread that I was back in the manor, and people hated me again. I was back into the hell hole where I spent my whole life. I left it all because I was given a promise. Just one.

"Life will be different," my father had told me. "I promise to be kinder to you. Please, son, just come home." In all truth, he was kinder. I hadn't seen him all three days, so there wasn't any chance for him to yell at me, or hit me, or give me nasty scowls.

"Life is good," I should say. Oh, absolutely not. I hated my father for ruining everything precious I've ever had.

It was day now. I was just sitting in a chair in my room, looking out the window. I was sure lunch would be soon, not that I was hungry as much as I wished to see my mother. I hadn't seen her either. I hated this house. How was it that three people could live inside a house, eat all three meals at the same time, and yet never even catch a glance of one another?

And of course, I've forgotten to tell you the worst part: I have conditions of living under a Malfoy roof once more.

I had to stay at the manor at all times until further instruction is given (basically meaning that I'm stuck in this awful place unless my father decides that I'm decent enough to go in public once more as his son)

I could not allow anyone to step inside the manor unless they had been invited by my parents (I'm not allowed to invite anyone over myself, not that I would curse my friends like that.)

Any (and I quote directly from my father's note) "unnecessary truths of preference" (aka my sexuality) shall remain unspoken of

I would attend any and every business and/or ministry event that required my attendance and remain silent unless given specific things to say (acting as my father's puppet once more)

And I agreed to them all. And I gave up my comfortable, unrestrained life to live this awful repeat of the past with new added parameters. And with it all, gave up my sanity. Nothing like a wonderful Malfoy family reunion, minus the other two Malfoys, of course.

An owl flew to my window and tapped against the glass. I sighed and opened it. The brown speckled owl came inside and perched itself on the post of my bed. I untied the note from its leg and read it to myself.

Dear Draco,
I understand why you did it, but I still don't quite agree with it at all. While I would like to say that you should try to have a better relationship with your father, I don't believe for a moment that was what he had in mind when he invited you back as his son. And giving you rules? I have reason to believe that he may just be doing this to better his reputation (not that many think so highly of him nowadays). I do hope he will let you leave soon. It's dreadfully boring without someone to talk to about interesting things, since Ron isn't really interested in those things (though he pretends to be sometimes). Really, it feels like we're little kids, and your father grounded you. Come to think of it, it wasn't so long ago since we were actually kids. Anyway, I do wish you luck with your father. If you ever need someone to sneak you something, or someone, inside that manor, don't hesitate to ask me. I'm sure it must be dull there.

Sincerely,
Hermione

Leave it to Hermione to offer to break rules for my sanity. Then again, it would be nice to get out of the house every once and a while...

Dear Hermione,
I greatly appreciate your offer. As much as I would love for you to sneak so many things and people here to keep me from going insane (or, more insane than I already am), I only ask for two things. The first would be a book. I could care less about what it's over, but I've read every book in my father's library at least two times through, and the topics are getting rather dull. The second, if you are able to do such a thing (which I'm sure with your cleverness you could pull off), would be to have some sort of event in which I (and most certainly not my father) am invited to and must attend. I would be forever grateful.

As for your comment about just being kids not too long ago, I'm afraid that, unlike you, I never had much of a childhood. Yes, I used to be of a young age, and it was only so long ago, but I'm not sure I would classify that as being a child. And my father never grounded me, though I agree, that is very much how it feels.

I expected such of him. He was never…shall we say…the brightest star in the sky. Nonetheless, it is very kind of him to pretend at least.

Thank you for your luck. I may need it.

Sincerely,
Draco

P.S. If I may ask it of you, try to make the event sometime soon. I'm not sure if I can stand it here anymore. And it's only been three days.

I folded the letter and tied it to the foot of the owl. I expected it to fly away, but it merely sat on my bed post.

"Well? Are you going to deliver my message or am I going to have to throw you out that window?"

The owl tilted its head (as if to say "pushy much?"), but spread its wings and left out my window once more.

I stared a moment at my open window. It was so strange to have an opening to the outside world and yet still be trapped in this awful house. I could be free, maybe, if I was a bird, or even a bug. But of course, I chose to stay here, and so I would. I wouldn't exactly like it, but I would endure. After the moment had passed, I felt ridiculous to be thinking of leaving out my window. I closed it and thought to myself I can't leave out the window. I have more dignity than that. I'm a Malfoy.

That was shocking, even to me.

I really have gone mad, haven't I? I sat on my bed and put a hand to my forehead. I've gone mad…

Harry's POV:

I looked out the open window of my room at Hogwarts, smiling. I hadn't specified anything in particular when I asked for a room, but Headmistress McGonagall obviously had me in mind when she picked the room. I could see the Quidditch field in the distance, where there was Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff game going on, then Hagrid's hut over to the side a bit, and there was a gorgeous sunset every night, of which I had full view of.

Hufflepuff scored a point, and I decided to catch up on the game later. My room was really pretty plain, but I liked it that way. And I had the largest bed I'd ever had in my entire life. It was a queen-size bed, and so I could curl up into a ball and do somersaults if I wanted to. The sheets were cotton and a deep gold since I was a Gryffindor, after all. I never lost a wink of sleep due to its comfy-ness (and if I did, that's only because I'm used to a small bed against the wall, and so I like to roll off the edge if I get too close). I jumped onto it, letting it push me up into the air for a second, laughing at the childish feeling of it. It was nice to act however I wanted without anyone caring.

My face was in the comfy pillow when a sharp poke to my lower back startled me. I sat up and an owl squawked and fell onto the floor. It got up, shook its feathers, and gave me quite a grumpy look.

"Well, you shouldn't go poking people in the back when they don't expect it." The owl blinked its eyes and I sighed, realizing it was just trying to get my attention. "Alright, I apologize. Now, what did you bring?"

The owl (more or less) hopped onto the bed and held out its foot. Untying the note, I saw it was from Hermione.

Dear Hyden Noah Lettone,
I am very sorry to inform you that your request to attend the one year anniversary of the Dark Lord's demise has been rejected. There is only a select amount of people that may go as to keep Harry Potter's close friends and fans separate from enemies, journalists, and other dislikable figures. You seem to have no ties at all to Mr. Potter, and therefore have no qualifications to attend the May 2nd celebration, when Mr. Potter will be attending. However, you are very welcome to attend the May 3rd, 4th, and/or 5th celebration(s) if you wish, when Harry Potter will not be attending. We do hope to see you there.

Sincerely,
Hermione Granger
Head Planner/Decorator

There were so many things in this one, short note. For one, my new alias must be Hyden Noah Lettone. The name was a bit odd, but I was sure I would get used to it eventually. Second, there is a celebration that I am to attend two days from now that I had not known about. This must be her way of telling me. Third, there were four days for celebration. Why in Merlin would there be four days? I only killed him once (or seven times technically, but I'm not going to count horcruxes). It all was a lot to absorb.

And so, with all these things to think and worry about, the first thought I had was What am I going to wear? It disturbed me that I cared about what I looked like, especially if it was only going to be my friends (and fans?) there. Of course, I would have to send Hermione a letter back. And it would have to seem like it had nothing to do with her last message, since that wasn't really to me, but my alias.

Dear Hermione,
Hello. While staying in my room at Hogwarts, I've been bored, and so I was thinking. I thought about lots of things before I remembered the celebration for the one year anniversary of the "Dark Lord's Demise" you had planned, and I realized I had no idea what to wear. I would love some help with that.

Love,
Harry

I tied it to the owl's leg and conjured up some little food pellets for it to snack on before it left. I knew it wasn't my owl, but when Hermione, Ron, and I went to get an owl for us (mostly Hermione, I suppose, since Ron didn't want an owl, and I didn't feel right having another one after Hedwig), I made the final decision, choosing between a grey one (that tried to eat my fingers, but adored Hermione like no other) and this speckled brown one. The brown one was nice enough (and could go through the day without eating my fingers when I try to read a note), and was actually pretty easy to care for. The owl had a personality of its own, and that only made it so much more like a pet to me (but it wasn't, of course). After eating the last pellet from my hand, it almost nodded in thanks, and then left out my window.

I sighed and looked out my window again. It seemed Hufflepuff was in the lead, but with a seeker like the one playing, Ravenclaw would make sure it wouldn't stay that way for too long. The bludger came really close to hitting the quaffle as one of the players passed it to a teammate. I hate it when that actually happens. Sometimes, I swear the beaters do that on purpose…

Something flew up and landed right next to me on the window. I looked only to see the owl once again. Confused, I looked at the note tied to its leg, but there was none.

"Where did my note go?" The owl let loose a small, blunt squawk and ruffled its feathers a bit. I saw it as a "well-isn't-it-obvious?" gesture. I huffed.

"If I knew where the note was," I told it, "I wouldn't be asking. It should be on your foot, right?" It squawked again. "Well then where is it?"

There was a knock at my door. I sighed and went to answer it. There, of course, was Hermione, letter in hand.

"I was right in front of the school. I say we go shopping." She had a smile on her face and looked excited.

"Shopping?" I said more to myself. "Who said anything about shopping?"

"Well, if you don't know what to wear, maybe we should go out and get you something to wear."

"I have plenty of things to wear. Can't I just pick one of those things?"

Hermione sighed. "No. We're getting you a new outfit." She tugged at my arm. "Come on, Harry. It will be fun, I promise. I won't get a single thing. We're just shopping for you."

I rolled my eyes. "Alright, alright…"

Hermione smiled and before I knew it, we were in an alley way. Hermione put her wand away and we walked on onto a busy London street right across from some fancy stores I had passed by a time or two ago but had never bothered to wander into.

This is going to last forever, I thought dreadfully.

We walked into the first store and Hermione immediately went up to a worker, asking him something I didn't quite catch. The man shook his head. Hermione sighed and nodded something, and we walked out once more.

"What was that about?" I asked her as we headed towards the next store.

"Honestly, Harry, I already have the most absolutely perfect thing in mind for you to wear to the celebration. I just need to find a store that has it."

"Oh." I followed her into the next store. Much of the same things happened: Hermione went up to a worker, the worker shook her head, and Hermione nodded and we left.

"What is it, exactly, that you have in mind that is so hard to find?"

"Just trust me, Harry. It will look marvelous on you."

We went on to the next store. Hermione had to walk around a bit to actually find a worker, but once she did, she asked the same question she had asked the other two.

"Excuse me, Miss. Do you happen to carry Ashen Slate suits by Vinn Moss*?"

The lady bit the inside of her lip. "I think so. Here, let me ask my co-worker in the back room."

"Ashen Slate by Vinn Moss?"

"Trust me, you'll look stunning in it."

After a few minutes, the worker returned with a smile and an item of clothing. "We do, in fact, carry them. Looking at your friend here," she looked at me up and down, "I grabbed the perfect size." She handed Hermione the item. Hermione was trying really hard not to smile, but it was easy to tell she wanted to badly. She whispered something into the woman's ear. "Oh," she said, but forced a smile, nonetheless. "Right this way, to our dressing rooms."

The dressing rooms were pretty lavish for dressing rooms. The curtain was light blue velvet, and the floor was shaggy and cream-colored with golden flecks. I undressed and put on the suit that had been picked out for me. It fit pretty comfortably. Of course, in the lavishness of this dressing room, one would expect to turn around and have a full length mirror there, but there was no mirror at all in the room. I untied the curtain and stepped out to not only get Hermione's opinion, but to get my own opinion.

"Oh, Harry." Hermione smiled. "You look wonderful. Come, look." She dragged me to the full length mirror next to the door.

The suit was a sort of…well, ashen slate color. I hadn't thought much of it before I put it on, but now that it was on me, the greyness gave my pale skin some color, and my green eyes popped out against the neutrality. The shirt was white, but I wore a sliver vest lined with more ashen slate and had a silver tie to match it. My black, messy hair fell around the silver, and the contrast was nice. It was unbelievable that I had no idea, previously, that there could ever be a suit that would make me look absolutely handsome in every way possible (not to be so modest).

"Wow," was all I could manage.

"We'll take it," Hermione said to the worker. "It's perfect."

The worker's mouth hung open, and she stared at me in awe. Was I really that bad looking before so that this is a huge improvement?

Hermione cleared her throat and the worker snapped out of her trance. "Right away, Ma'am."

I leaned against the wall. "Hermione, is this really such a big improvement from before that the worker lady had a right to be shocked?" Hermione giggled.

"Harry…" she sighed, "It isn't such a big improvement. You were handsome before, and she noticed that. But now you're unbelievably handsome, that's why she was shocked." She leaned in and whispered, "It's alright. I told her you were gay."

"It's you're lucky day." The worker said. "This suit is on sale for 25 percent off!"

Hermione smiled. "Brilliant!"

I sighed and slid further down the wall, with my hand covering my eyes in embarrassment. "Thanks, Hermione," I said sarcastically. "Thanks…"

*This suit is completely made up. This brand does not exist.