'Harry!'

Down the hall, a black-haired head appeared from one of the doors. 'Yes?'

'Which tie should I wear? The green one or the grey?'

'Green. It brings out your eyes. Grey makes you look too lifeless.'

Harry disappeared again, but Draco hesitated. He held both ties up against his shirt and scrutinised himself in the mirror.

'Are you sure it's not too Slytherin? Grey might be more neutral.'

He could hear Harry rummage in the cabinets next door. 'This isn't Hogwarts anymore, Draco.'

Draco refrained from pointing out that it had only been three months. He half considered trying out a warmer hue—orange, maybe, although that might be too close to Gryffindor colours—before giving in and tying the green tie. Harry was right, it did bring out his eyes, but still, the implications… for all the situations were subtly invoking his Slytherin association could be beneficial, this wasn't one of them.

Harry appeared in the door, already dressed, albeit far more carelessly than Draco. Over a crumpled white dress shirt, he had tied his Gryffindor tie, and owing to the cold weather, he had thrown a faded overcoat over his shoulders. That wouldn't do, Draco decided, and leaped at the opportunity to push his own dressing struggles aside.

'What, exactly, is', he waved his hand at the clothes, 'all this?'

Harry looked bewildered. 'My clothes.'

Draco sighed, what Harry had come to dub his affectionate 'you little dork' sigh. 'We are invited to celebrate your admission to St. Mungo's. You are not wearing that.'

When Harry didn't protest, beyond a teasing raised eyebrow and a bemused grin, he crossed the space between them to undo his necktie, even as both their faces flushed at the action. He dug around in the closet—Harry's closet, that had somehow become their closet—until he produced a pale blue tie approximating the hospital's colours. A little further and…

'Here', he thrust one of Harry's jackets into its owner's hands. 'White and surgeons cuffs. Much more appropriate.'

'Hmm', Harry mumbled, stealing a kiss before shrugging off his coat. 'What would I do without your sartorial wisdom?'

'Embarrass yourself', Draco deadpanned. 'And you're sure she won't mind the green tie?'

Harry pulled his own tie knot taut and examined Draco's. 'It's gonna be fine. I mean, sure, it looks a little Slytherin, but…', he shrugged, 'you are who you are.'

'I don't want to make the wrong impression', Draco insisted. He was nervous enough as it was, the last thing he needed was to rub salt in old wounds.

'Hey', Harry clapped him on the back, 'it'll be fine. She invited you, didn't she? They're not holding a grudge. At least not so much that they're not willing to give you a chance.'

Now it was Draco's turn to raise an eyebrow. 'It's not them, it's her. Last time, I got her son killed and my aunt threatened her daughter.'

'Draco.' Harry took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. 'It will be okay. I'll be there. And if anything comes up, we can leave.

'I know', he cut off Draco's protest before it even started, 'it's my party, I'm the guest of honour, I know. But if necessary, I can take you home.'

Draco nodded. 'Okay.'

While Harry disappeared towards the kitchen, Draco briefly considered a waistcoat before discarding the idea. Too posh. Not the way to make a good first impression.

Blank slate, Harry had told him when they first discussed the possibility. Start over.

Let's see how it goes.

A/N: There goes. It's hard to believe this is it. Seven years and a few weeks ago, I was excited and convinced to have come up with the best thing since sliced bread; countless delays and several thorough humblings later, I'm finishing it. And what a ride it's been.

I would like to edit this at some point, but I'm not sure I will. In the near-to-medium future, I'm going to go through this, weed out leftover typos, and harmonise the typography and formatting a little, but that's probably going to be it for now.

So there it is. I've written a novel, more or less.

This is most likely going to be my last HP story. I'm not going to go into the details about why (the author), not the time or place, but if you know, you know. I wish things were different, but that's the way they are.

At the end of this journey (allow me some theatralics xD), I'd like to thank everyone who's read this, regular commenters and anonymous readers alike. As always (last time saying this for this fic!), comments are appreciated, both praise and concrit. Considering this is the last chapter, do let me know what you thought of it, and so long. It's been a pleasure.