Thursday, 31 December 1998 —
Friday, 1 January 1999

New Year's Eve at the Parkinsons was possibly the most enjoyable large event of the year. Everyone who was considered important from the perspective of an old, wealthy and pure-blooded family would be there.

Because the Parkinson family had never publicly chosen a side in either one of the Wizarding Wars, they still maintained a good reputation, which had allowed Mr Parkinson to retain his influence and connections within the Ministry of Magic. It also meant that several high-ranking Ministry officials were invited to the New Year's Party every year, making it a valuable networking event as well as a great party.

Draco felt happier than he had in a very long time. He was surrounded by friendly faces, he wouldn't have to bite his tongue with these people and best of all: there was no curfew tonight. After many months, he had finally seen Goyle again, and while his friend was still not over the death of Crabbe, who had been his best friend, he seemed to be doing quite okay. He seemed more mature, more serious, and somehow less stupid as a result.

Zabini and his mother were also in attendance. Despite her renowned and appealing outward appearance, Mrs Zabini was an incredibly unpleasant woman with very few friends. Though the young, dark-skinned wizard had rarely ever said anything critical about her, every Slytherin from fifth to seventh year knew about Zabini's strained and complicated relationship with his mother. The younger attendees made sure to steer clear of this notorious woman and had gathered in a corner of the large ballroom. Spirits were high and worries were temporarily forgotten. Everyone simply seemed happy to catch up with each other and with those that had not returned to Hogwarts in September, or those who had left before the Christmas holidays, like Zabini.

Despite all the positiveness, tonight was not all joy. Though mostly pardoned for his crimes thanks to useful information he had given during his Wizengamot trial, Lucius was still under house arrest until further notice. The Ministry had been a little vague and reluctant about giving a specific end date, but they expected that he would be free to leave the house again in a few weeks. Unfortunately, this meant that he was not allowed to be at the Parkinsons tonight, and though Narcissa had not wanted to go without her husband, Lucius had been surprisingly selfless, insisting that she should go, even if just for a few hours.

And so Draco had escorted his mother to the party. It had been rather awkward at first, as Narcissa was proud and would not allow anyone to approach her with what could be perceived as pity. After nearly having hexed a well-meaning acquaintance who had asked her how she was holding up, Mrs Parkinson had gently, but with an unyielding determination, taken her to another room. She had re-appeared shortly after that; calmer and with a perfect hospitable poker-face.

The music slowly trailed off and Draco stopped guiding Pansy around the dance floor. She took his hand and gently tugged his arm, wordlessly asking him to follow her away from the party and into the privacy of the library across the hallway.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked softly, smirking.

"You looked like you needed me for yourself for a little while," Pansy teased.

His smirk widened. "Are you finally going to show me what that dress looks like on the floor?" She sighed and shook her head mock-disapprovingly, her eyes displaying her silent mirth.

Pansy was known for always making sure she looked perfectly presentable, but tonight she had outdone herself. Her emerald-green gown was of a rather simplistic design, but Draco knew the Parkinsons well enough to know that it was probably a custom design and handmade especially for Pansy, made of the finest fabric. Around her neck she wore the necklace he had given her for Christmas, and the pink Poudretteite proudly but tastefully accentuated the plunging neckline of the dress.

"Has anyone told you that you look absolutely exquisite tonight?" he asked casually once they had reached the sitting area by the library's fireplace. Pansy had gracefully draped herself on the couch and looked up at him with an appreciative smile as he sat down on top of the coffee table, facing her.

"Dozens of people have," she answered him cheekily. "It's common courtesy to compliment the host."

"Even so," he shrugged, smiling. "You're beautiful tonight."

"Flatterer," Pansy smiled back. "You look very dapper yourself. Though a dash of colour wouldn't have hurt you."

Draco smoothed out his dress robes. "But black agrees with me," he said mock-defensively, receiving a smirk in return.

"That it does," she agreed, and then they both fell silent, with only the crackling of the fire to keep the room from going completely quiet. "How was it to see Greg again?" Pansy asked after a lengthy silence.

"It's… strange," Draco answered slowly. "I'm glad he's doing okay, but it's been so long that I also feel like we don't know each other anymore."

She nodded thoughtfully and he noticed that she looked as though she was struggling to find the words to ask what she wanted to know. He eyed her questioningly, and finally, she sighed in defeat. "I don't know how to ask more subtly," she admitted a little uncomfortable. "How was it—the visit, I mean?"

Drawing in a deep breath, Draco nodded his head slowly. "Right. Thank you for covering for me, by the way," he said softly. He had told his parents that he would be spending the day with Pansy at the Parkinson lake house in Grasmere, and to cover for him, she had spent the day there by herself, probably being bored out of her mind. "It was… It honestly was not as bad as I had expected," he admitted finally, and Pansy's eyes widened at his confession.

"Sweet Salazar, are you serious?" she breathed.

"Serious about what?" a loud voice asked from behind the couch, startling them both.

Zabini stood behind Pansy, one hand on the back of the couch and a glass of Firewhisky in his other. He smirked down at the pair of them as he lazily swirled the liquid around in his glass. He was the sole male attendee to not wear black dress robes tonight and instead wore navy blue ones, further confirming everyone's assumption that he would always want to be special.

"Damn it, Blaise," Pansy spat out sharply. "You should know better than to sneak up on a witch, especially after that incident with Mathilda Greenford two years ago!"

The former Slytherin laughed softly at that. "A fair reminder," he admitted. "So what was going on in here before I interrupted?"

"We are not about to satisfy your curiosity," Draco drawled. "There is something to be said for leaving certain things to the imagination. Was there something you wanted?"

Zabini rolled his eyes at him. "Honestly, with the dress Parkinson is wearing tonight I don't need an imagination. But no, I don't want anything specific, I was just curious why you had disappeared is all. I thought I might catch you in the act of fornication, but it seems I have to go find a witch myself to show you two how it's done."

He threw back his whiskey in one large swig and reached over the couch to put his now-empty glass on the coffee table next to Draco. With a lazy smirk, he then strolled back to the party, leaving his two former classmates alone again.

Pansy stared after him with a half-hearted glare until he was out of the room and then turned her attention back at him, her brows knitted together in worry. "Explain to me what happened," she pressed.

Draco stared at her and exhaled slowly through his nose. "Nothing really happened. I just had to find a way to make it bearable. You know how important it was for me to go through with it... I need that badge, Pansy. I need a recommendation at the end of this year. I am not about to end up like… like…" he faltered.

"Like your father?" Pansy murmured as she gently touched his knee. "Draco, you won't. Your father's house arrest is nearly over and soon everything will be like it was before. Your family will thrive again."

Draco winced slightly at her sympathy and drew in another deep breath to keep his emotions at bay, reminding himself that she meant well. "So when are you visiting the fantastic Entwistle siblings?" he asked her with faux-nonchalance, determined to draw the subject away from him and his family.

"I'm not," she answered softly, and Draco glanced up at her in confusion.

"Pansy, you'll get in troub—"

"Draco, I'm not coming back to Hogwarts," she interrupted him quietly.

A shiver went up and down his spine and he suddenly felt very cold. "What?" he breathed out, not even attempting to cover up his shock.

"I don't want to have to look over my shoulder every time there are no teachers around. I've been to the hospital wing more times in the past four months than I have in all the previous years combined. I don't want to be punished for… for trying to end a war for the rest of my life."

The library once again went quiet. Draco felt Pansy's eyes on him, undoubtedly trying to figure out how he was feeling. He had no idea what he felt; there was a lot going on inside his head right now. The anger was easy to distinguish, and so was the feeling of betrayal that cut through his chest. But there was something else, something far more complicated.

He slowly got to his feet and made his way over to the other side of the coffee table to stand in front of the fireplace, physically putting more distance between them, though he recognised that he was already mentally sealing off from Pansy as well, and that fact told him that his instinctive anger had an underlying depth.

Hurt.

Self-preservation was a very interesting process. While he had been taught from a very young age that emotions were a private matter, he had perfected this habit to not only include showing emotion, but also the actual feeling. He had become very accomplished at putting the vulnerable emotions away inside himself, replacing them with one that was acceptable. Anger.

Unfortunately, as he grew older and his problems more pressing, Draco had found out that long-repressed feelings had a funny tendency of crawling back to the surface in moments of extreme stress, and the War had made him more in touch with the forgotten emotions. Though he could still force himself to keep up a composed façade, the feelings were there, and they demanded to be felt.

"Draco…"

He inhaled sharply and somewhat managed to collect himself before he turned back to face her. Pansy was still seated on the couch, except she was no longer relaxed and she sat on the edge of the seat, upright with tense shoulders. "Draco, I'm sorry," she said quietly, "I really am. But I can't do it anymore. I'm tired and I simply don't have the energy to fight back anymore. I—I need a fresh start somewhere else. I'm going to Switzerland for a while to live with my brother and his wife."

"God dammit, Pansy," he hissed quietly despite his effort to keep it in. Going back to Hogwarts without her, his female counterpart… He didn't think he could do it. "You may as well say goodbye permanently." He was aware of the harshness of his words and he could clearly read the resulting hurt in her eyes.

"I would never want to do that," she replied sharply, not hiding her anger. "I would always want to have you in my life one way or another because I love you, Draco."

His heartbeat picked up as he stared into the blue eyes that glared back at him, not at all compatible with the tender message their owner had just revealed. Though his anger had ebbed away in these last few seconds and he very much wanted to respond to her in one way or another, he felt physically unable to speak.

It wasn't long before Pansy broke the silence. Her voice betrayed that she was a little upset, though she was very skilled at suppressing the emotion from being too obviously displayed.

"You know, I said that knowing I will never hear you say it back to me. It has been five years, Draco, and even though I know how you feel about me, and even though these last five years have been great with you, it should be very telling to us both that you can't say it. We have grown so accustomed to one another that I feel like we've started taking each other's presence for granted, and if I'm honest, I don't think we should settle for that."

The hard look in Pansy's eyes mostly softened when Draco slowly made his way back to his original seat on top of the coffee table. She reached for his hands and they sat in silence for a while, simply holding each other's hands, when the sound of excitement from the party guests snapped them out of their thoughts.

They simultaneously looked up at the large grandfather clock on the other side of the library just as it struck midnight. Pansy's hand left his own and found its way to his cheek, up through his hair and to the back of his neck, gently pulling him towards her.

"Happy New Year, Draco," she murmured huskily before kissing him for what they both knew to be the very last time. When their faces finally broke apart he held her for a little while longer, knowing it would all be over once they let go of each other. When the moment came, it was much too soon.

A loud clash and the sounds of people yelling out in anger made them both jump up from their respective seats. "What the hell?" gasped Pansy anxiously, pushing past Draco to rush towards the door that led back to the hallway.

He quickly followed her just to halt abruptly again as he was about to re-enter the ballroom. The party as they had left it only half an hour earlier was effectively gone. The atmosphere had changed drastically and spread out at every entrance of the ballroom. Surrounding the group of angry attendees stood a new group of people in familiar uniforms. Armed people.

Aurors.

The two Aurors stationed near the main entrance of the ballroom pushed Draco and Pansy back inside and then stood in front of the doorway again, taking away any hope of leaving.

Amidst the attendees stood Mr and Mrs Parkinson, both with clear fury written on their faces. In front of them stood a tall man with dark hair and a dark beard. His uniform was slightly different from that of the other Aurors, which led Draco to believe that this was the Head Auror. His face was a mask of determination and there was a hint of anger in his eyes when he held up his hand to silence Mr Parkinson's loud and elaborate string of profanities.

"Mr Parkinson, my name is Gawain Robarts. I am the Head Officer of the Auror Department and I am here with an arrest warrant," he barked. "You would all do well to cooperate."

He took a scroll of parchment from the inside pocket of his vest and looked around the room as he unrolled it, as though challenging anyone to go against him. "Warren Crabbe!" he then called out, and Draco watched as the Auror that had restrained the man in question stepped forward, dragging his late friend's father with him. "Magnus Mulciber!" Another Auror stepped forward, dragging along another restrained man.

"You are under arrest for your involvement in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries of 1996, for which you have previously been convicted before participating in a coordinated prison escape. Additional charges are the various crimes against and the murder of several Muggles and your involvement in the Battle of Hogwarts. You will be taken into custody and await your definitive sentence in confinement. Take them away."

"NO!" the furious Mrs Crabbe shrieked as she flung herself forward. "You take your filthy hands off my husband! First you lot murder my son, then you take away my husband! How dare you! How dare—"

One of the Aurors muted the screeching woman before hitting her with a spell that rendered her unconscious. He caught her mid-fall and gently let her down onto the floor.

Robarts turned around to a third restrained man and lifted his chin. "Iskander Selwyn," he barked, "you are under arrest for your involvement in the Battle over Little Whinging and the Battle of Hogwarts, as well as the torture of Xenophilius Lovegood and the various crimes against and murder of several Muggles. You, too, will be taken into custody and await your definitive sentence in confinement. Out with him."

He rolled up the parchment again and tucked it back inside his vest before taking out his wand and signalling one of the Aurors. Then Robards slowly turned and pointed his wand at Mr Parkinson, who glared up at him with such intense hatred that Draco was half-surprised when the Head Auror didn't drop dead on the floor as a result.

"And finally… Gustave Parkinson. You are under arrest for the suspected aiding and abetting of several known Death Eaters. You will be taken into custody without bail and you will be taken before the Wizengamot within the next forty-eight hours for your trial."

Draco stepped forward to grab Pansy's shoulders and pulled her against him, holding her as she trembled with shock and anger. She stared after her father with wide and tearful eyes, watching as he was being restrained and taken away. Mrs Parkinson had crumpled down onto the floor and was — unsuccessfully — being consoled by two of her female friends.

Once the Aurors had gone, there was not much left of the evening. It was just minutes after midnight and normally the event would just be getting started, but instead of celebrating the start of a new year, people were leaving. The handful of guests that were still there were tending to the wives of the arrested men.

The Greengrass sisters had emerged from the crowd in a rush to offer comfort to Pansy and Zabini had shouted at his mother to leave and go home when she had watched the commotion around her as though she was bored. Mrs Zabini had given her son a dangerous glare but she had surprised everyone and did as he had asked. Zabini had an uncharacteristic frown on his brows that indicated genuine worry for Pansy, and Draco felt comfortable enough to leave her with their friends and find his mother.

Narcissa stood stiffly near the large fireplace, her eyes darting around the ballroom with anxiety. She visibly relaxed when she saw him walk towards her. "There you are," she said in a rushed tone. "Let's go home."

She handed him a silver goblet filled with glittering grey powder and took a handful herself. She stepped into the fireplace and threw the powder at her feet, disappearing from the Parkinson residence as she was swallowed up by the green flames of the Floo Network.

Draco took a handful of powder and put the goblet back on the mantel shelf before stepping into the fireplace himself. "Malfoy Manor," he spoke, articulating clearly. He threw down the powder and stepped into his family's drawing room moments later.

Just as he finished tapping the non-existent dirt off his dress robes, he felt that something was not quite right. When he looked up and across the room, he immediately saw where that feeling came from.

More bloody Aurors.

With large and urgent steps, Draco marched up to his parents and the two Aurors that were accompanying them. "What is going on?" he demanded from his mother. "I thought Father had been pardoned, what the hell are they doing here?!"

"Stay calm, dear," Narcissa answered softly but sternly as she looked on to her husband and the two Aurors. "I think they've come to return your father's wand and lift the house-arrest wards."

Observing the scene before him, Draco noticed the look of self-complacency in his father's eyes as he received back his wand. A feeling of dread spread through his stomach, and Draco realised that Lucius had not at all been selfless tonight when he had told Narcissa to go to the Parkinson's party without him.

It had all been planned this way: it had been paramount that he and his mother had been present during the arrest of several former Death Eaters. Lucius had kept them in the dark so that their shock would be genuine. That way no one would suspect him from being the one who had told the Aurors where to find some of the fugitives they were after. It was a very well-thought-out plan.

While he had always known his father to be self-serving, Draco had never expected him to actively turn on his own peers, and somehow that revelation really didn't sit well with him. As happy as he was that Lucius was not sentenced to Azkaban and had now regained his freedom, he couldn't shake off the anxiety he was feeling as a result of his father's actions of self-preservation. If people at Hogwarts found out that his father was responsible for this arrest he would not only be hated by the other three Houses but his own Slytherin peers as well.

He prayed that day would never come.