Nine

He'd woken up with a painfully stiff neck, one arm asleep and most of his body shivering with cold, except for the side Hermione had fallen asleep against. The side Hermione was still sleeping against. It had taken him all his patience to extract himself from her grasp, lay her down on the sofa and cover her with a quickly conjured blanket without waking her up. The cold shower he took did nothing to help his neck, but it did make him feel more or less presentable.

However, when she began to stir, he suddenly felt quite embarrassed at having fallen asleep with her in his arms. He left the room before she had fully woken up, but only after leaving a Hangover Potion on the table.

He hurried through the corridors, eager for some fresh air to clear his head.

"Draco, one moment, please."

The voice still made him feel as if he was about to lose some points for Slytherin, even though his student days were long behind him. He turned around with a polite smile.

"Minerva, what can I do for you?" It really was strange to address his former professors by their first name, but Minerva McGonagall insisted on it.

"I hope you feel better today? Hermione told me you had a spot of indigestion yesterday morning."

Draco blinked but managed to keep the confusion from his face. "I do feel better, thank you."

Minerva McGonagall continued walking and Draco fell into step next to her.

"I'm very pleased to see you and Hermione are getting along. I was a little worried at the start of this year."

Draco hoped any flush on his cheeks would be attributed to the cold wind that somehow seemed to find its way into the corridors of the castle.

"I hope I have outgrown the age of name-calling and petty House rivalries," he said, rather more sharply than he had intended. "Professor Granger and I are both adults and we have left the past behind us."

McGonagall eyed him curiously. He barely managed not to squirm under her gaze. Her lips turned into a small smile.

"I do hope you and Hermione will continue this amiable relationship after the holidays. I am well aware your interactions have been… strained, to say the least, up until now." Draco looked away and smirked. That certainly wasn't a request.

"It has come to my attention that though you have been teaching here, very successfully, too, for over five years, you are still on a temporary contract. If you like, I can make that permanent in January. Unless you prefer the flexibility of the temporary contract, of course. I just want to assure you that there will always be a place for you at Hogwarts. We haven't had such a good Potions professor since… Well, I daresay I can hardly remember. Severus was an excellent teacher, but his bias… Well, we needn't go into that. I have received nothing but rave reviews on your classes, and I should be very pleased to ensure you stay here."

Draco turned to her and stared in shock. One hand flew to his marked arm. The Mark had faded in the years since the War, but it was still there, itching, aching, reminding him of the stupidity of his youth.

"But… I… My past… People won't like..." he stammered.

McGonagall's eyes went to his marked arm, then back to his face.

"Your past is part of you. But it needn't limit your future any more than you want to allow. You are a great teacher, respected among faculty and students. I would be a fool not to try and trap you into staying here." Her eyes twinkled with mirth. "Take your time to consider the offer, Draco. Like I said, you may prefer not to be tied down."

They had reached the entrance hall. Draco turned to the Great Hall. He felt as though a weight had lifted from his chest.

"You seem to be bearing the holidays a little more cheerfully than the previous years. I'm glad to see that."

Draco was certain the blush on his cheeks had now spread to cover his entire face.

"I apologize for being such a spoilsport these last few years," he said.

"Nobody blames you, my dear boy," McGonagall said, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing comfortingly. The break with his parents was a public secret among the staff. Most of them had been present when his father's first Howler reached him. The motherly gesture made him a little uncomfortable, though.

She turned away before he could say anything.

"I shall expect to hear from you before the students return," she said over her shoulder.

Draco entered the Great Hall and walked, almost unseeing, to the Head Table. His mind was reeling. What a strange Christmas this was.