Bond

Chapter 18

February 18 - February 27

Day 143, Thursday

Pansy stomped down the corridor, fuming. What a rotten day. First, all her Potions notes for the day ruined by a stray drop of SpreadRot, and Millicent Bulstrode was going to be very, very unhappy if she couldn't come up with adequate compensation for it. Then that Hufflepuff prat Zacharias Smith had made her look like a fool in Runes, with Queenie's enthusiastic help. Then the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor had decided to shake things up and make "established groups" work with people they didn't work with very often, did a random match-up spell, and assigned Pansy and Draco to work with Potter, Weasley and Granger. On an assignment that required them to practice after class. For the rest of the week. Lovely.

The only thing that had gone right so far was that all classes on the third floor had been cancelled almost an hour early when a sixth-year had accidentally cast a Sonorus spell so powerful that it turned the entire floor into a cacophonous hell. Which was nice, as it let Pansy out of Slytherin's History of Magic and gave her twenty minutes of quiet study time before their stupid Defence group met in classroom 11.

It might not be that bad, she reflected as she approached the door. Pissed as she was at Draco for wanting to be around Potter again in the first place, this would at least be a chance for the two of them to be together without having to watch to make sure they didn't tip anybody off about their renewed relationship.

Weasley and Granger, happily, weren't annoyingly Hufflepuffledy pleased with Draco and Potter's little fling; in fact, they were both a little worried. Though Granger had awkwardly started to say something the other day, about how it was understandable that Potter would want to go back to Draco, as he "hadn't been raised with enough physical affection", and was thus "only naturally drawn back to the only relationship where he'd had-" before Pansy had (very politely, too) asked her to please keep her Muggle-born ideas to herself and just concentrate on helping them both get this out of their systems with no one the wiser.

Get it out of their systems, my foot, Pansy huffed to herself. Draco wasn't getting anything out of his system. He was too bloody cheery for a boy having one last fling. Stupid fool actually looked content. With Potter. If it hadn't been for the identity of the person he was with, and the nervous wreck he was making of Pansy, she would've been happy for him too.

And now they were all supposed to work together. Until Monday. She pushed open the door into the small storage area assigned to the Defence classroom, thinking her day couldn't possibly get worse, then opened the door into the classroom proper and stopped short.

Her day just had.

Draco and Potter were intertwined on a chair, Potter straddling Draco and their lips working together hungrily, shirts unbuttoned halfway down, Potter's red and gold tie over Draco's shoulder, Potter's fingers in Draco's hair. Draco pressing himself up into Potter's embrace, tilting his head back, groaning as Potter's mouth moved down his throat. Evidently too engrossed in one another to have heard Pansy, or to notice her where she stood, just a few feet away from them in the shadow of the storage area.

And oh god, that was something Pansy did not need to see, Potter gliding his hands down and undoing Draco's trouser button and zip, and Draco hissing his approval, breath speeding up, eagerly returning the favour, slipping a hand into Potter's trousers.

Oh, shit, this was just - arg! Pansy stifled a squeak as Potter quickly slid down and knelt before the chair, and Draco shifted a bit and choked back a cry and - Pansy's view was blocked by a desk so she couldn't tell exactly what was going on, but from Draco's strangled moans and the arch of his neck and the way his eyes closed in delight, it was pretty damned obvious, and it was-

... disturbingly hot.

And completely hysterical.

Pansy paused in mid-step, her initial indignant impulse to screech at them to cease and desist replaced with dizzying suddenness by utter hilarity and a firm determination to do nothing whatsoever to disturb them.

She smirked and cast a small visual concealment charm on herself and sound-proofing charm on the room, and settled in to wait. And observe. Very, very closely. Because she was never, ever going to let Draco forget that she had seen him, up close and personal, getting his wand polished by none other than the Boy Who Lived himself.

She might as well get some pointers while she was at it, she thought, suppressing a fit of the giggles. Because she'd certainly never seen Draco this uninhibited with her. Whatever Potter was doing, it had Draco moaning and covering his eyes with one hand, legs quivering. Pansy considered whether she should try to move further into the room to observe from a better angle, or whether they would notice her.

"No, why don't you stay, it's just Defence practice. We're learning to set vampire wards-" Pansy whipped around as Granger and Blaise walked in, and she realized with a start that of course, no matter how much noise they were making, Draco and Potter couldn't hear them.

"I thought you were going from History to the library?" she asked Blaise brusquely, moving to block their view of the classroom and frantically trying to think of how to distract him.

"Hermione offered to help me with Charms after your prac- what the hell?" He looked past Pansy and she swore, grabbing at his shoulder, but it was too late. "What the FUCK, Pansy??"

"Blaise-"

Granger had spotted Draco and Potter as well and turned a vivid shade of crimson, whirling away from the sight.

"Parkinson!! What-"

"You knew about this, didn't you??" Blaise's shock was quickly turning into outrage and he confronted Pansy.

"Blaise, let me exp-"

"How long has this been going on??" Blaise demanded.

"We need to-" Granger said, distressed, motioning them away from the open door.

"Merlin, Granger they can't hear us," Pansy said impatiently. "I did a spell and they're a little busy anyway - Blaise, please-"

"How. Long."

Pansy took a deep breath. "A little over a week."

"Fucking. Mordred. God, what a bloody IDIOT!!" Blaise said, leaning on the wall and thumping his head against it. "What the hell is he thinking?"

"He's not thinking much. Not with his brain, anyway."

"For god's sake," Granger hissed. "We can't just stand here while-"

Pansy spared a glance behind her, where Potter was bringing Draco closer to completion and she was completely missing it, and snapped "What?? Do you want to go in there and tell them to stop at once? They won't thank you for that, you know!" Blaise gave a short bark of laughter and Pansy took courage from that, noting he seemed just slightly less livid. "I thought you were keen on enabling this terribly romantic-"

"I've told you, I don't think it's romantic, I think it's dangerous-"

"Well that's something, at least," Blaise said dryly, and Granger looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"Why? Did you think I'd be delighted that Harry's sleeping with Draco Malfoy?"

Blaise scowled at her. "God forbid," he sneered, then smirked as he looked over Pansy's shoulder again and noticed that Potter had apparently done a fairly good job, as Draco leaned back on his chair, gasping for breath. Granger resolutely kept her back to them, her face beet-red.

"Look, Granger, if you're so concerned with their privacy, why don't you make sure nobody disturbs them? Like, for example, Weasley? Go wait for him outside, there's a good girl," Pansy said snidely as Granger exited with alacrity, narrowly resisting the urge to add "Shoo!"

She and Blaise turned back to Draco and Potter, noting that Draco had apparently recovered enough to return the favour, and that Potter was looking thoroughly appreciative.

"He's good at that, apparently," Blaise said grudgingly, as Potter threw his head back and chewed on his bottom lip.

"Not as good as Potter was with him. I don't think I ever heard him swear like that when I did him," Pansy admitted.

"The Prophet would absolutely kill - no, well, it would be a little tawdry for the Prophet, but the Quibbler or the Inquisitor would kill for an exclusive on this. The Boy Who Blew. I'd retire on the proceeds."

"You're not the only one. They need to be more careful; this classroom is supposed to be unused, but next time it could be somebody who's not on his side-"

"Bite your tongue. I am not on his side, not when it comes to this."

"Blaise-"

"Don't worry, I won't betray his little secret, though it would serve him right. Now do be quiet. You're here, they can't see you, you may as well pay attention and learn something useful," Blaise said sourly. He shook his head as he gazed at the pair in the classroom and Potter gasped and reached down, presumably to touch Draco's hair. "Nice concealment charm, by the way. You're a complete perv, Pansy."

"You're watching them too."

"It's more intellectual curiosity than anything else. You know other boys do nothing for me. Although if either of them offered to do that for me, I doubt I'd refuse..." Blaise trailed off as Potter groaned, his eyes squeezed shut, clearly approaching climax. "Ah, finally." Blaise waited until Potter had finished shuddering his release and pulled Draco up onto his lap, kissing him breathlessly, before stepping into the room, clapping.

"Very nice performance, boys."

Pansy had to laugh as Potter and Draco's faces went through identical stages from dazed satiation to shock to outraged embarrassment. They scrambled to put themselves in order, hastily doing up trousers and shirt buttons, mortified and furious.

"You are an idiot," Blaise told Draco without preamble, ignoring Potter. "A bloody fool, and you are going to get yourself killed. You must know that."

"You stupid, perverted fuck!" was all Draco seemed to be able to come up by way of a witty retort as he tucked in his shirt, his chest still heaving and his hair dishevelled.

"This is none of your fucking business, Zabini!" Potter said angrily, doing up his tie.

"You had no right to spy on us!"

"I wasn't spying. I was walking into a classroom, just like anybody else might. Just like somebody else will, one of these days, and when they do the shit will hit the fan and it will come down so hard you'll need a Protego spell just to keep it from flattening you both."

"I hate to break it to you," Pansy sneered, "but you're not actually a Seer, Blaise. You can't-"

"I don't need to be. I have a brain. And let me tell you, when you're found out, you're going to wish that curse had done you in." He registered Potter's sudden start of alarm and rolled his eyes impatiently. "No, I won't tell anyone. But Draco, don't think for one moment I'm going to support you if this comes out in the open."

"Right. Noted," said Draco, his voice clipped.

"Good."

There was an uncomfortable pause as Draco and Potter finished righting themselves and Pansy reflected that it was really too bad Potter had also cut his hair; it looked far scruffier short and messy than long and tied back. She waved a hand at their clothing. "You'll want to do a de-wrinkling charm or something on your clothes. You look rather... rumpled."

Draco glared at Blaise as he snickered.

"It's a good thing it's us who walked in on you," Pansy added. "You need to be more careful. God, can you imagine if it'd been Nott? Or whoever helped McKay set the bloody curse? Or even Crabbe or Goyle?"

Suddenly Draco and Blaise both chuckled and the tension in the room lessened a tad. "God, Goyle," Blaise smirked. "He'd be so bloody jealous, the poor git."

"Jealous?" said Potter. "Of what?"

"You two. Sex, in any form."

"Has he ever had a girlfriend?"

Blaise, Pansy and Draco gave him an odd look. "No, of course not," said Pansy.

"Why? He's not that bad."

The Slytherins exchanged an amused look, and Draco chuckled. "No, but he's queerer than a three-Knut coin, Harry."

"What??"

"Goyle's gay. Surely you knew that."

"Erm... no, I didn't."

"Oh, you're not actually - you are, you're blushing!" Blaise crowed.

"Well, I didn't know that... I mean-"

"Retroactively worried that Goyle was checking you out when you slept in our dorm?" Pansy smirked, and Potter blushed deeper.

"No, not really..."

"Worried that Goyle might make a pass at you now?" Blaise asked, and they were all now hooting with laughter at Harry's discomfort. "Don't worry - your politics aside, Goyle couldn't make a pass at another boy if he was glued to him with Stickum potion," he said scornfully. "He's gayer than fairy dust but shyer than a Bowtruckle."

"Really?"

"Really," said Pansy. "He looks like just a big stupid violent goon - which, to be fair, he is - but when it comes to boys he fancies, trust me on this, he's utterly helpless and hopeless."

"We should let Granger know it's all right to come in," Blaise pointed out. "And Weasley, he's probably here too."

Pansy went to the door, and sure enough, there were Weasley and Granger, both very, very red - though their embarrassment was nothing compared to Potter's as he realized why they were waiting outside and as Blaise took great pleasure in letting him know just how much Granger had seen.

"Oh come on, Granger," he scoffed as he finished. "It's nothing you didn't know was happening before."

"Knowing it and seeing it are two different things, mate," muttered Weasley, patting Granger's arm comfortingly.

"Word of advice, you two: you'll probably want to be a little more discreet," said Blaise. "Defence room right before a bunch of people were supposed to come in, with no wards or warning spells? Not terribly smart. Yes, I know, you probably weren't planning on anything happening, you got carried away, spare me the excuses. Have you tried your married quarters? I'd be surprised if anybody bothered to change the password."

Draco and Potter looked at each other, surprised.

"Or you could do the sensible thing and stay the fuck away from each other, but it's probably a lost cause for me to point that out. God, Draco. If your father finds out..." Blaise shook his head.

"Why, what exactly do you think Malfoy's father is likely to do?" Granger asked evenly.

"Draco's father's abusive," Blaise said bluntly, and even more bluntly said, "Draco they all saw your memories, and you're hardly in any position to tell me off right now, so shut up." Draco crossed his arms, clenching his jaw in resentful rage, both at Blaise's words and his attitude. "Yes, it's a dirty little secret in Slytherin, that Lucius Malfoy's tendency to be a sadistic bastard when he's crossed even extends to his own son."

"Blaise-" Pansy began.

"And from what I saw of Potter's memories, I'd say you're quite a pair, the two of you," Blaise said, his voice hard and uncompromising. "Two hurt little boys finding comfort in each other and all that rot. It's all very romantic and heart-warming, I'm sure, except that unlike those filthy Muggles you lived with, Potter, Draco's father's also got a lot of money and a long, long reach. As well as control of a family and a cause that Draco's not going to abandon just for a tumble. Are you?" He smiled mirthlessly as Draco's face remained carefully blank. "He's not going to leave the Malfoy millions or the Malfoy political stance for you, Potter, I don't care how brilliant you are when you're on your knees."

"You-" Potter began furiously, but stopped as Draco put a quelling hand on his arm and shook his head. Potter pressed his lips together, visibly struggling to keep himself under control.

"Listen, Draco," Blaise said, almost kindly, ignoring Potter altogether. "Get yourself reacquainted with reality. It's no sin to admit that some of the things your parents told you are wrong, and it's no sin in this day and age to be seen consorting with Muggle-borns and blood traitors. But this?"

Draco looked away from him, eyes still narrowed in resentment.

Blaise blew out his breath and pushed open the door to the corridor. "Excuse me. This is giving me heartburn. Not to mention I, unlike you, have a sense of self-preservation, and thus want nothing to do with this when it all goes balls-up."

Blaise left, and there was a heavy silence before Granger cleared her throat.

"Well," she said with grim determination. "Let's go over these vampire wards. I want us all to be able to set and disable all ten by Monday."

And they all flipped their books open, eager for the distraction.

ooooooo

Day 145, Saturday

Harry glanced around their room absently, stroking Draco's shoulder. This was far nicer than an unused classroom. As it was extremely unlikely that anybody would walk in on them, they'd been able to take things a little slower today and had actually gotten undressed, used the bed instead of the floor, a splintery chair, or the nearest wall, and were now just lying together holding each other and quietly talking about their day. He'd have to figure out who was responsible for changing portrait passwords in the castle, and send them an anonymous present for neglecting to change this one, because Sir Xander hadn't even blinked when they'd walked up and said Hades. He'd just welcomed them back and opened the door.

It was probably Filch's job. He'd best see if Honeydukes carried deluxe catnip.

This was so weird, though. If he didn't think too hard and ignored the bare walls and the fact that they couldn't stay the night, he could almost pretend they were back in time before the unbonding.

Although it wasn't just like their unbonding, he thought, frowning as he caught sight of an open copy of the Prophet that Draco had been reading when Harry had come in, and had left open once they'd gotten carried away greeting each other.

Malfoy: Cannot Trust Muggles, Need Leaders Not Afraid To Do What's Needed

The headline wasn't on the front page, but it was certainly large and difficult to ignore, and he wished Draco hadn't brought it. They both caught each other looking at it, looked away, and then Harry suddenly decided he didn't particularly care for this careful silence they'd been cultivating ever since that confrontation with Blaise. He sat up, nodding towards the paper. "What do you think he means by that?" he said casually.

Draco shrugged.

"It sounds to me like he's slowly going back to pro-Voldemort rhetoric." He kept his eyes level as Draco inevitably flinched at the name. "He's switching sides, isn't he?"

"I don't really know."

"But you suspect."

Draco blew out his breath. "Yeah." He sat up too, running a hand through his hair, trying to look casual. "This isn't exactly a shock, I hope."

"No. Not really." Harry paused, his brain screaming at him to just shut up and not ask questions he didn't want answered. "What about you?"

"Harry..." Draco said softly.

"Are you switching sides as well?"

Draco stared at him, a host of emotions playing behind his eyes, and Harry reflected that even without the bond, he could still read Draco better than just about anybody else. Annoyance, defiance, hesitation... sorrow...

Draco cleared his throat. "I never really did. You know that."

Harry bit his lip. "So... what will you do, if it comes to a fight? Really kill for your side?"

"Would you kill for yours?"

"Yeah, in self defence. Your side's attacking us."

"Yours is attacking our way of life."

"You can still say that, after Hermione helped save your life."

"It's what I believe. It's what my family believes."

"Believe that people like Hermione deserve to be tortured and killed?" Draco hesitated, but his face was still set. "You're too smart for that. You're just mouthing the words, because that's what your father believes. And your father may be a smart man himself but for some reason he's got a blind spot as far as Voldemort and his cause are concerned."

"My father's a realist. The Dark Lord is powerful. He'll be killed if he-"

"Don't try to tell me your father only follows him out of fear."

"No, it's not just fear, but you can't ignore that the fear is there, and that there's a good reason for it."

Harry shook his head disbelief. "And yet you still support him. You're scared as hell of him, you know that he's a dangerous lunatic, and still-"

"He's right. About a lot of what he says. And he's got power - power that needs to be used for good."

"You're so bloody-"

"I believe in what my father believes, and we both support the Dark Lord, and you've known that all along. You can't - just because we're fucking each other again doesn't give you the right to tell me that what I believe is-"

"I'm not telling you anything-"

"Or ask me to change-"

"I've not asking you to-"

And then they were facing each other, and their voices were rising, and Harry kept thinking No, and Damn it, and Why can't I just keep my mouth shut, and This isn't going to go anywhere good, and I'm going to lose him...

He abruptly pulled himself short. "I'm - Draco. I..." He swallowed. "Maybe I shouldn't have brought this up."

"Maybe you shouldn't have."

"Things are different now, aren't they?"

"Goodness, Harry, what was your first clue?" Draco snapped.

Harry pushed down sudden anger. "I have to get to Quidditch practice," he muttered, and stood up, gathering his clothing and pulling it on, not looking at Draco as he got up and started dressing as well.

"See you," Draco said, starting out the door, and Harry was hit with an intense desire to not let him walk out without knowing whether or not he'd come back.

"Wait."

"What?" Draco said impatiently.

"Er... tomorrow?" he forced himself to ask casually, and Draco's lips tightened and his eyes narrowed but finally he gave a curt nod, then headed out the door.

ooooooo

Day 147, Monday

Draco stared into the fire in the Slytherin common room as Pansy stirred beside him and turned a page.

This couldn't continue. He was crazy. He was risking so damn much, for so damn little.

He and Harry were able to be together, yes. They were able to kiss, touch, have sex, and even spend a bit of time together, talking, mocking Zacharias Smith, venting out Draco's irritation at the Slytherin Quidditch Captain...

But Pansy and Blaise, and Weasley and Granger, were right; it was dangerous and stupid, what they were doing. There was no good way for it to end; they weren't going to be together forever, they couldn't be together in public at all, and they were almost sure to be found out at some point. The other day, that classroom had seemed safe; nobody was supposed to be there for at least twenty minutes, and it was in a little-used part of the school. But then Pansy had shown up early by coincidence, set a silencing spell on a whim, and just like that all of a sudden Blaise knew about them too.

Even being in their own room was dangerous. What if somebody got suspicious, followed them, set a tracking charm...

Even if nobody did, there was no future in this. Blaise was right. Draco was not ready to leave his family or his political ideals for The Boy Who Lived, no matter what wicked things The Boy Who Lived could do with his tongue. No matter how it set Draco on fire to touch him and be near him. No matter how good Draco felt when Harry laughed at his impressions of McGonagall and Filch, how much Harry's smile warmed him inside.

He sighed deeply. There was no future in this, which was why he'd been so pathetically eager to go back to him yesterday, even after their semi-fight on Saturday.

"About yesterday, I-I didn't mean to..." was all Potter had said by way of apology, after they'd spent a few uncomfortable moments trying to pretend that nothing had happened the day before.

And he'd been so relieved that Harry had broken first that he'd just nodded, mumbled something like, "It's all right, I'm sorry too," and gone on to snog him senseless.

It was like he had no fucking pride around Harry any more. No fucking sense, either.

"Darling, you'll want to stop making those noises," Pansy said absently, running her fingers through his hair.

"What noises?"

"The pathetic ones. The ones that say that you're deeply conflicted about something. Stop it."

He turned away from her impatiently.

"Did you two work out whatever it was that you were fighting about the other day?"

"What?" Pansy gave him an 'Oh please' look, and he blew out his breath in irritation. "How did you know we were fighting?"

"I have eyes. Speaking of eyes, you know Millicent brewed that new hangover potion? I went up to the Astronomy Tower to get some from her yesterday, you know she takes Astronomy, right? I spotted a telescope supposedly set up to observe Orion's rising."

"And?"

"Orion's apparently rising bloody close to the window of your old quarters. You'll want to keep the drapes drawn when you're in there."

Draco nodded wearily. What a hopeless idiot he was.

Pansy closed her book and tucked herself next to him, laying her head on his shoulder, and he rested his cheek against her hair. She'd started acting slightly more girlfriendly than usual lately, which was rather nice. Not only was it comforting, it was also useful in terms of making it less likely for people to guess about him and Potter.

"What are you going to do, Draco, if anybody finds out?" she asked quietly. He stiffened slightly. "No, I'm not going to go into yet another tirade about why you should break it off with him before you get in serious trouble, though you should. I'm just asking."

"I don't know."

"Have you even thought about it?"

"No."

"Well, I have." She started picking at a loose thread on the couch. "For one thing, you'd have to say goodbye to Slytherin. You'd have no credibility here any more. If even Blaise won't stand with you, nobody will."

"Nobody?" he said quietly.

"I'd have to think of myself too, darling," she said gently.

He nodded glumly.

"And as for your father, Blaise is right, you should be afraid of him, he'd be furious if he found out."

"Pansy, don't." He wrenched himself away from her and she grabbed on to him, smiling tightly and catching his earlobe between her teeth, making a show for the other inhabitants of the common room.

"All right, I won't say anything else along that line, but settle yourself, please, this is important!" she whispered into his ear.

He settled back down grudgingly.

"And once you were out of Slytherin, and in deep shit with your father, you'd pretty much have to defect to the other side."

"I don't want to defect."

She took a deep breath. "Draco. Why not?"

"What?"

"Are you really that loyal to the Dark Lord?"

"Yes. Of course. Aren't you?"

She raised her head and looked at him seriously.

Draco swallowed hard. This was treason, what they were skirting around. It was one thing to talk about being on the other side by circumstance, or hedging your bets by cultivating allies among the Dark Lord's foes. This...

Pansy held his gaze for a long moment, then lay her head back on his shoulder and spoke quietly. "I'm loyal. You know that. But I can see why some people wouldn't be. He's powerful, but he's not all-powerful. And he's... he's a little scary. And your father showed that there is another path. There are plenty of people who don't believe in Dumbledore, who also don't believe in the Dark Lord."

"I don't want to be one of them."

"Because you'd have to leave your family?"

"Not just because of that."

Pansy nodded. "Well anyway, if you must defect, you know Potter's not a bad choice to run to. Other than the fact that the Dark Lord wants him dead, and you may very well get caught in the backlash."

"I already have been."

"You'd be risking that again."

"Don't remind me."

"I'm serious, though; it wouldn't be a bad choice, Draco, attaching yourself to the darling of the other side. And he's got a fair bit of money. Doesn't compare with Malfoy resources, but at least you'd be comfortable and not have to work for a living."

"Pansy, come on. I'm not going to 'attach' myself to Potter - I'm not married to him any more, I'm just-"

"Just getting him out of your system, yes, yes, I know. Potter might not feel the same way."

"And if he does?"

"I can't see him dropping you, no matter what. If you left your whole world behind because of him, and then he decided he didn't want you any more... can you really see him throwing you back out onto the mercy of your family and the Dark Lord?" Pansy scoffed. "Of course not. He'd protect you, out of duty and guilt, if nothing else. Look at how he is with Weasley. That stupid boy was the first real friend Potter ever had, and he's still loyal to him, even though he's got scads more money and connections and power and could be friends with far better people. He'd do the same for you."

"That's attractive. Me and Ron Weasley, Harry Potter's charity cases for life."

Pansy snickered.

"Why are you talking about all of this now?" he asked her curiously.

She pursed her lips, gazing at the fire. "It's seventh year. I'm studying for NEWTs. It's just... it's struck me, that it's February, and in four months, we're leaving."

"And?"

"And I was thinking about how you'd be a pariah at Slytherin House if you were found out, and then I thought well, it would different if you still had to live in Slytherin for another year, but... we're leaving in just a few months. School isn't forever. Slytherin isn't forever." She trailed off, absently setting a simple charm on the fireplace so that the flames looked like snakes and dragons. "And like I said before, if it all goes balls-up with the Dark Lord, I'd like to have an 'in' inside the other camp. I wouldn't be able to associate with you in public, of course, but..."

Draco gazed at the charmed fire thoughtfully.

She hesitated for a moment, then added quietly "The other thing I keep thinking these days is... you look happy."

"What?"

"You look... you're good together."

"We are not good together," Draco said brusquely. "We're stupid together. Don't go soft-headed on me."

"I've no idea why, but he makes you happy. A damned sight happier than I've ever seen you before."

Draco glared at her and Pansy sighed. "No, darling, I'm not going soft-headed on you. Just rambling. Pay me no mind." She sighed again. "Hopefully all this is just talk, and will remain so. I keep hoping you'll come to your senses and break it off with him before you're forced to make any sort of decision."

"Yeah," Draco said wryly. "Me too."

ooooooo

Day 152, Saturday

"Now what?" Draco said irritably as Pansy gasped. He glanced over Pansy's shoulder at the paper she'd just opened, and felt his heart stop.

Front page. Again. He automatically looked up and met Harry's wide green eyes. It felt like there was no sound or movement whatsoever in the Great Hall, even though he could hear shocked whispers and some giggles and gasps and even a few catcalls and wolf whistles, and eddies of stunned disbelief and delighted, wide-awake malice swirled around him at the Slytherin table as Pansy's hand slipped into his.

The couple on the front page had finished kissing, more tenderly than he would have ever thought, and they were laughing together, the lighter one's hand on the darker one's cheek, and whoever had taken the picture had managed to capture, from quite a distance and through a window, the friendship and caring between them. The way the one teased and the other rolled his eyes in good natured annoyance before shutting him up with another kiss.

Pansy's hand had tightened on Draco's as they both stared at the picture and a part of Draco's brain vaguely registered a few words around it. "A Bond Renewed?," rumours confirmed, Convicted Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, no comment about his son's-

"All right, Draco, here's how I see it," Pansy said quietly. "You have two choices: you can leave in a dignified way - erm, scratch that, you look like you're about to toss your breakfast - either leave the Great Hall as quickly as possible and get a hold of yourself outside, or just look at Potter calmly and let him know you'll see him after you've finished eating. Trust me?"

He nodded numbly.

"Stay. Everyone can see that you're upset, no surprise there, but they'll also see that you will not be intimidated." She looked up and paled visibly. "Oh, god, and. Prepare for a Howler."

"What?"

She pointed up and Draco stopped breathing. There was Father's owl, gracefully coming in for a landing, a red letter in its beak.

It landed, and they all gaped at it. Malfoys didn't get Howlers. Howlers were for Weasleys.

"Open it, Draco," Pansy said under her breath. "Don't hesitate. Just pretend this is all happening to somebody else."

Draco swallowed hard, unable to make himself move.

"If your father ever forgives you he'll be pleased that you showed some backbone. If he doesn't, you'll need all the backbone you can get."

He schooled his face into expressionlessness, reached out and tore open the top, making himself ignore his shaking hands.

The Howler opened up, but didn't mould itself into a mouth or screech like other Howlers he'd seen over the years. The letter retained the appearance of a simple parchment, and the voice, though pitched to reach the ears of every person in the Great Hall, was low and precise and steady. Father at his most dangerous.

"Draco, you are the first Malfoy in over a century to receive a Howler, the only Malfoy in over a century to deserve one. You have been a grave disappointment to me many times in the past, but I have never been as ashamed of you as I am now. You are a disgrace to our name and family. Accordingly, I have just concluded a meeting with our family solicitor to legally disown you. Your inheritance will be held in trust until a suitable heir can be found from amongst our relatives, and your name shall be stricken from our family records. You will no longer have permission to use our name or the family's signet ring-" Draco suddenly felt a flare of pain on his hand and hastily removed the ring, dropping it onto the table and watching it roll away and fall to the floor, almost in slow motion, as Father's voice went on. "Out of consideration for your mother's soft-heartedness, I will allow you an audience in two days so that you can plead your case to be allowed to return to our family. Do not expect to succeed."

Crabbe and Goyle were a faint green colour, and looking away miserably. Blaise gave him a hard stare, then turned away.

"Were I able to snap your wand in half from a distance, I would do so," Father's voice continued dispassionately. "As I cannot, I shall simply hope that somebody at Hogwarts does our family the great service of doing it for us. I shall add that if anybody wishes to discipline you for the disgrace you have brought upon the Malfoy family and Slytherin House, they are quite welcome to do so, and have my oath that they will receive no retribution from our family, whether you succeed in returning to the family or not."

Draco clenched his jaw, refusing to give voice to the terror starting to claw at him. No family, no name, no protection, and an open invitation to anybody who wished to hurt him.

"As of this moment, you are no longer my son."

The letter shimmered for a moment, then flared and turned into ashes, dropping in a heap onto the table before him. There was a long silence.

"Well. He doesn't mince words, does he?" Pansy said, and casually buttered a piece of toast with only slightly trembling hands. "All right, forget meeting with Potter right now. Finish your breakfast, and then we'll go to the library."

"Are you sure?" he asked, shakily finding his voice. "What about me being in disgrace?"

"Tosh. You've got two days to convince him to take you back." She picked up the paper. "Drink up your juice, darling. Oh my goodness, Draco," she said, staring at the picture. "I must say, if you ever kissed me like that, I might be tempted to risk being disowned too." She paused. "Either one of you, as a matter of fact. Good heavens."

Draco shivered, unable even to nod or smile. She put her hand on his arm comfortingly and leaned close. "Darling, I hope you know that for this, you will owe me for the rest of your life," she murmured into his ear.

He nodded.

"Drink up your juice, dear." She placed his glass in his hand and glanced back at the paper. "Good lord, Celestina Warbeck's back in the news again. Doesn't that woman ever stay with a man longer than a month?"

Draco closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on Pansy's valiant attempt at small talk, attempting simultaneously to ignore the voices around the Hall getting louder and more animated, the echo of his father's cold voice, and the ugly air of menace growing at the Slytherin table. He looked up at the Head Table as a soft cough silenced the Hall and all attention was fixed on Dumbledore.

"If I may make a comment," Dumbledore said mildly. "I would like to remind all of you that every student here is under the protection of the school. Any persons contemplating harming a student under the misapprehension that they will suffer no consequences for that act should be aware that, whether or not they have to answer to that student's family, they will have to answer to me."

There was a brief pause. Then, from the Gryffindor table, a firm voice added, "And to me."