A Life More Ordinary

Hogwarts' Infirmary, September 3, 1992

When Harry opened his eyes, another set was staring back at him.

"Aaugh!" Harry bolted upright and his forehead met another with a loud thwack. "Ow..."

"Oy, Potter..."

"Harry?"

"What's the matter?"

"What is going on? Mr. Wood!"

Bed sheets rustled and feet thumped on the floor as Oliver rubbed his forehead and straightened up. "Right; sorry 'bout that, Potter. Heard you were in the infirmary and as we have tryouts next week-"

"Mr. Wood, really," Pomfrey scolded as she took her wand out. And then she and Sirius and Remus were all bending down to peer at Harry.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione's anxious voice carried from the other bed.

"Oh, he's all right," Oliver told them. "Just a tap to the head. He's had worse in practice, haven't you?"

Harry rubbed the unwelcome ache in his forehead and nodded; not that it didn't hurt but he wasn't about to say so.

Sirius frowned at Oliver. "He's had a concussion."

"Oh, I know," Oliver said, his head bobbing a nod. "That's why I came, of course. I had to make certain our Seeker would be able to practice with us."

"Mr. Potter will be perfectly recovered by then," Pomfrey told the Quidditch captain crisply.

Oliver gusted a sigh. "Well, that's certainly a relief, isn't it?"

"Yes," Pomfrey said, huffing. "Now, if you're quite finished handing out bruises, Mr. Wood, I believe it's time you went to breakfast."

"Actually," Oliver said with a small frown in Harry's direction, "I heard Weasley talking to Longbottom and he said something about your being banned from the first match..." His gaze switched to Sirius and Remus. "Now I know it's important to keep discipline and all that, but certainly banning Harry from his best talent isn't the way. Grounding him, now, that's the way to get a point across."

Oliver swished his hand through the air as if holding a whip, cutting off whatever Sirius had wanted to say. "I don't know what he did, but if a few days on restriction aren't enough, a good belting will do the trick, I'll wager. Harry wouldn't mind taking one for the team, would you Potter?"

Harry's face grew hot as he gaped.

"After all, we need you out there, Potter and isn't that worth a bit of a sting in your-"

"Oliver!" Sirius interrupted rather loudly, though his voice was strained. The team captain paused mid-spiel. Sirius cleared his throat. "Harry will be playing in the match."

Oliver stared at him for a few seconds. "Right," he finally said firmly, covering any surprise. "Good, good. Well, you just rest up there, Potter and don't do anything foolish in between, yeah?" With a critical glance over Harry, he added, "Not sure how many thrashings you'd be able to take." He clapped Harry's shoulder cheerfully, and was whistling as he walked away.

Mortified beyond speech, Harry could only stare at his retreating back. He turned around when Sirius spluttered, "Of course we aren't going to thrash him!"

Madame Pomfrey was glaring at Harry's parents with narrowed eyes. But with Sirius' indignant protest, she sighed and turned back to Harry. "How are you feeling, Mr. Potter?"

His face burning, Harry shook his head and slumped back onto his pillow. Stupid Oliver and his one-track mind.

Pomfrey tsked impatiently and took several scans. "He's in sound health," she said to his parents. "You may take him home whenever you're ready." She walked over to Hermione. "And you, Miss Granger; I think you're well enough to go with them. As long as you continue to rest."

Harry forgot his mortification; his head came up quickly. "You're coming home with us?"

But Hermione was staring at Pomfrey. "You want me to go to Harry's house?"

Pomfrey smiled. "Sirius and Remus have a bit of surprise for you," she said; she gestured for Hermione to slide off the bed, and looking even more confused, Hermione did. She turned her attention to Sirius and Remus, but neither of them seemed to have heard the healer. Remus was staring at the far wall, his hands clasped together.

"Sirius?" Pomfrey prodded, pulling Sirius' attention from Remus. "Hermione's ready," Pomfrey added, raising her eyebrows a little. "Shall we step through?"

"Oh," Sirius said, some of the cloud clearing from his grey eyes. "Absolutely. Everything's ready."

"What's going on, Sirius?" Harry asked as he twisted out of his blanket and yanked trainers on; Sirius gave him a mischievous smile.

"Socks," he said instead of answering. Harry sighed, but he pulled his trainers off and tugged socks on. By the time he straightened up, Hermione and Pomfrey had already gone through the Floo.

"Why is Hermione going to our house?"

Sirius merely waved Harry toward the Floo, still smiling, and a second later they stepped out into their own kitchen. Hermione was wrapped in her father's arms, her feet not even touching the floor. Mrs. Granger's arms were around both of them; tears tracking down her cheeks.

Harry grinned up at Sirius and with a soft chuckle, Sirius put an arm round his shoulders.

Remus began breakfast preparations as soon as he stepped into the kitchen; he was whisking a bowl of eggs into a hot pan by the time Hermione was back on her feet, though neither of her parents let go; each of them holding a hand as they turned to Harry, who was setting the table with Sirius.

"How can we ever thank you?" Mrs. Granger asked; tears were welling in her eyes again. Confused, Harry didn't answer.

"Madame Pomfrey told us you saved Hermione," Mr. Granger added shakily. His hand cupped the back of Hermione's head as he pulled her close to his side. Hermione was smiling at him too, and Harry felt himself flushing. He didn't know what to say.

But before he could figure it out, Hermione's mom was hugging him, the embrace even more crushing than one of Mrs. Weasley's; her arms were shaking. "Thank you," she whispered.

Harry tried to nod and after a few minutes, she let him go. Remus announced breakfast then, and Harry was grateful to lose the attention though he turned his face up to smile at Sirius as his godfather ruffled a hand through his hair.

The adults sat around the table but Hermione came to stand in front of Harry. Harry shifted; she was staring at him, her brown eyes as intense as they were during a lecture. "That was brilliant, Harry," she finally said and then she squeezed him so hard he couldn't breathe. She released him just as abruptly and went to sit beside her mother, her face a deep red as she turned her attention to her plate.

He slid into his seat across from Sirius, his face flaming.

"Toast?"

Sirius winked at him as he passed the slice over, his eyes full of mirth as Harry crunched.

--

Sirius watched the last of the cold tea swirling around the drain. He sighed as it finally gurgled its way down and turned away, resting his lower back against the counter. He gave his wand a half-hearted wave toward the line of teacups adorning the smooth surface. The Cleaning Charm worked anyway, but instead of banishing the cups and saucers to their cupboards, he let his arm fall back to his side and glanced at the clock on the wall. Midnight was far too late to be cleaning the kitchen anyway.

Pushing out of the awkward position, he padded into the parlour. He smiled as he found Remus still asleep in the chair where Sirius had left him only minutes ago to bring the tea service into the kitchen. He bent over the back of the chair, steadying himself with a palm on each armrest, and kissed the top of Remus' head.

Remus stirred beneath his lips, grunting softly as he came fully awake. He twisted his neck a bit so that he was looking up at Sirius; he blinked in sleepy confusion. "Did I fall asleep?"

"A few minutes ago... The Grangers went upstairs."

"Elliot was talking..." Remus frowned. "I fell asleep while he was talking?"

"Jean was half-asleep as well," Sirius reassured him as he stroked his fingers upward through Remus' hair. "It's been a long day."

Remus sighed and closed his eyes, allowing Sirius to massage the back of his neck. Neither of them mentioned how close it was to the full moon.

"It was good of you to think of them," Remus murmured as Sirius' continued to work his stiff muscles. "Hermione was certainly happy to see them."

Sirius' shoulder lifted in a self-conscious shrug. "It would have killed us not to be able to see Harry after he was hurt... I only wish there had been a way for them to go to Hogwarts."

"They were pleased enough that Poppy brought her through the Floo; and they'll be able to have breakfast with her before she goes to her morning class." He shifted and clasped Sirius' fingers in his own, catching Sirius' eyes again. "They were very grateful. And so was Harry."

Sirius smiled. It was hard to gauge who had been the more excited of the two children, though Harry's had dimmed considerably after Poppy had returned for Hermione after dinner so that she could monitored through the night once more.

"You don't think we're being unreasonably anxious?" Sirius asked, glancing up the stairs, his thoughts with their sleeping son.

Remus stood, his eyes following Sirius' gaze. "Harry didn't object to coming home for a few days."

"I think he was relieved," Sirius said as they took the stairs together. "And I suppose since Dumbledore didn't even question the idea of a Portkey..."

"And if he had?"

Sirius gave his smirking husband a sideways glance. "I would have told him to sod off." He smiled at Remus' chuckle, though he sobered almost instantly; thoughts of their meeting with the headmaster had plagued him all day. "I still don't believe there isn't any connection to that book Draco had and Quirrel."

"What possible reason would Dumbledore have to lie to us?"

Sirius shook his head. "I don't think he was lying, though I think he probably would if he felt it was necessary."

Remus stopped walking before they reached Harry's door. "Do you?"

Sirius paused as well and let his shoulders touch the wall. "He did once; he could have told me that you were safe after I was released from Azkaban." Anger rose at the memory but Sirius pushed it away; it would do little good now. "He didn't lie technically, but he kept the truth from me."

Remus considered him in thoughtful silence. "He never really did explain that, did he?"

Sirius folded his arms out of the way, fighting harder to keep the emotions at bay; it was easier if he stared at a spot just beyond Remus' shoulder. "I don't think he trusted me."

"Of course he did," Remus said immediately. "He allowed you to take Harry, didn't he?"

Sirius refocused on Remus, snorting as he did. "Allowed me? Harry belonged with me; he couldn't have fought James' and Lily's will."

"But he might have tried if he didn't trust you. He knew you would take your responsibilities to Harry seriously."

"I don't think he did," Sirius said, shaking his head. "Not for certain." At Remus' confusion, he explained tightly, "I think he was worried that I'd leave Harry to find you. So, he let me believe you didn't want to be found." The thought hurt as much as it had seven years ago.

He smiled wearily though as Remus frowned. "It doesn't matter any longer," he said, not wanting to remind Remus that he'd left Harry with Hagrid in pursuit of Peter; he preferred not to think of it--ever. "My point is that if Dumbledore thought it was best to lie to us, he would."

Remus was still frowning, his thoughts obviously still with Dumbledore's distrust.

"The only problem," Sirius went on, "is that I can't figure out what he might want keep from us."

Remus shook himself, his brown eyes focusing once more. "He didn't tell us anything that we didn't already know; dark magic obviously interacts with Harry's scar, more so the darker the magic." He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and shook his head resignedly. "Actually, I don't understand why he wanted to speak with us."

Sirius tucked his fists under his armpits, feeling unduly chilled. "He did explain that he thought it was Draco who recognized Harry through whatever haze he was in; I don't see how it could be otherwise. It wasn't really Voldemort possessing him; an echo of him. Though when Harry told me about it..."

"It's impossible, Sirius," Remus said firmly. Sirius stared at the dark pattern in the wooden floorboards as he replayed his middle of the night conversation with Harry.

"But it's a bit strange that Voldemort knew me, isn't it? Or was it because Draco knew me?"

Harry had been badly frightened. Sirius, even more.

More frightened than he ever had been; even when Harry was safe in his arms. And now, when Harry was tucked in his own bed, Sirius' heart was drumming a frantic beat again.

Of course there was no connection to Quirrel. How could there be? It made no sense. He was dodging ghosts.

Sirius untucked his hands and looked up. "Right," he said with a firm nod. "Impossible."

Remus let out a slow breath, his own nod a little bit uneven. He circled Sirius' bicep with his hand and they stood in the quiet for a moment longer. "Are you going to accept one of the two seats on Hogwarts' board of governors?" Remus finally asked.

"Do you think I should?"

"Albus thought it would be best," Remus answered, which wasn't exactly an answer; Sirius quirked an amused smile and Remus lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "If it might actually balance negative influences... give us a bit more control of what's happening, then yes."

"Hm."

"You don't think it will?"

Sirius mimicked Remus' shrug. "I suppose it will." He pushed off the wall. "But no, I was thinking Molly would be the perfect choice to fill the other seat."

"Molly?"

"That entire board is made up of snobs. And Molly Weasley's had seven kids through that school. Who better?"

"I can't exactly picture Molly at a table alongside Lucius..."

Sirius couldn't either; not really. But in the interest of keeping Hogwarts safe, he was willing to bet Molly would be happy to sit next to Lucius. "Come on," Sirius murmured; this discussion would wait. He took Remus' hand and led him into Harry's bedroom.

Harry was curled into a ball, of course. The same way he had been since his first night in this room. The blanket had scooted off his shoulders; lying in an unhelpful puddle to the side. Sirius smiled and tugged it back up.

Harry's head shifted against the pillow, his eyelids fluttering open. He smiled as the sleep cleared for a moment from his eyes. Sirius crouched down, his hands making the blanket a bit snugger. "You looked cold," he murmured as he thumbed his godson's fringe aside.

Another lazy smile and Harry was burrowing under the warmth. Sirius bent and kissed his temple, creaking back to stand a moment later. He turned a smile to Remus and stepped back to allow him to take his place, but Remus' feet were very firmly planted; his hands holding opposite elbows. Sirius brushed his lips against his husband's flushed cheek as he passed and Remus' hands fell out of their protective pose.

Sirius propped a shoulder against the door frame, smiling as he watched Remus stoop beside Harry's head. He brushed a hand over the tousled hair, murmuring something about happy dreams as he pressed a kiss to the dark head. Harry mumbled in sleepy agreement and yawned widely. Remus smiled softly as Harry blinked and pulled the blanket over his shoulder; Remus tucked it securely in place before smoothing Harry's hair once more and standing.

He and Sirius crossed the corridor together, stopping just inside their bedroom where Sirius took Remus' face in his hands and kissed him. They'd been entirely too tense during the past few days. Apparently Remus thought so as well, his own lips eager against Sirius'. When they broke apart, they were both breathing heavily.

Sirius rested his forehead against Remus', smiling as Remus pulled him closer and they just stood there enjoying the peace. Remus wouldn't sleep well, tonight, Sirius knew--not so close to his transformation.

"Have a shower with me?" he asked, his voice soft against Remus' ear. Remus smiled and brought Sirius' lips back to his.

"I've never been able to resist you, have I?"

The fond words warmed Sirius as Remus led the way.

--

Barefoot and slightly chilled, Harry padded down the stairs before the sun was fully up the next morning. The red eyes had invaded a rather pleasant dream about Quidditch. Pleasant except that Oliver had had a starring role and he'd been shouting at Harry from across the pitch. "Catch the bloody Snitch!" And then Oliver's eyes had begun to glow and Harry had been startled off his broom; waking up as he'd tumbled through the sky.

Unwilling to go back to sleep, Harry headed for the kitchen, though he paused before he hit the parlor, still on the stairs. Remus was hunched over on the sofa, his face in his hands. He looked up as Harry squeaked the last step.

"I was thirsty..."

Remus let his hands fall between his knees and he nodded; he smiled a little but he didn't say anything so Harry went into the kitchen. His torso pressed against the sink's edge as he gulped a full glass of water, wiping his sleeve across his mouth when he'd finished. He stood there for a long minute, staring at the shiny metal as he clinked the glass against the side, finally letting it rest on the bottom.

Not in any hurry to go back upstairs, he wandered to the cold cupboard and peered inside for several long minutes, lazily swinging the door while he tried to decide if some of Sirius' leftover roast would be good in a sandwich.

Even though he wasn't hungry.

Blowing out a loud breath, Harry pushed the door closed again with a muffled splat, sat on the edge of the table and squinted at the clock. Five-thirty was too early for roast anyway.

"Harry?"

Harry twisted on his perch; Remus was gazing at him with quizzical eyebrows.

"Did you have a drink?" Remus asked, the soft words blending into the dawn's quiet. Harry nodded, realizing belatedly that he was still sitting on the table--and that Remus hadn't even told him to hop down. He slid off anyway and then wished he'd thought to put socks on as he scooted a chair away from the table and plopped into it, drawing one of his legs up while the other dangled.

"Are you cold?"

Harry dropped his arms; he hadn't realized he'd been hugging them around himself. "Guess so."

"Hold on..." Remus ducked into the small laundry room adjacent to the kitchen, popping back a second later with a jumper and a pair of grey socks. "They're Sirius', but they'll do," he said with a small smile as he handed them over to Harry.

"Thanks." He pulled the jumper over his head and then leaned over the bunched fabric around his middle to tug the socks on. He wiggled his toes, feeling just a little better.

"Are you hungry?" Remus pressed his lips together when Harry shook his head. "I could make you something."

Harry stretched the folds of Sirius' jumper, covering his knuckles as he shrugged in near acquiescence. He wasn't hungry at all but Remus looked sort of intense and Harry thought he'd probably just ask again. Besides Remus liked cooking... "Waffles?"

Remus' shoulders relaxed. "Strawberries? Or syrup?" he asked, turning to the lower cupboards.

"Strawberries."

"Would you fetch them?"

Harry made the trip back to the cold cupboard. He set the bowl on the counter where Remus was setting out ingredients and then wandered back to his chair. As he listened to Remus measuring flour and sugar, his thoughts strayed back to Draco. He wouldn't be frightened of Draco, he supposed; when he saw his friend again. It wasn't Draco's fault.

Why then, did those red eyes keep haunting him?

"Would you like to slice the strawberries?"

Harry started, having forgotten Remus was in the kitchen. Remus was gazing at him, obviously worried that Harry was losing his mind. And for Harry's part, he was a little bit worried as well. And even though he knew that Remus could slice up the strawberries with a few swishes of his wand, he nodded and went back to the counter, where he and Remus worked side by side, not saying much though Remus glanced over at him occasionally with his quiet smile.

And when the waffles were ready, they arranged themselves at the table and Remus filled his glass with pumpkin juice. "I think you'll feel better if you eat," he said as Harry poked at his waffle with a fork. "Did you dream of Draco again?"

Harry nodded, not taking his eyes off the tiny squares filling the waffle's surface. He didn't even have to ask how Remus had known he'd dreamed of Draco before; even though Harry hadn't told him.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Harry shook his head. "I know Draco didn't mean it."

"But it's hard to think of him without thinking of the Chamber," Remus said gently. Harry ripped a chunk of waffle away from the rest and squeezed it between thumb and forefinger. "It will get easier; especially when you see each other at school again."

Harry looked up. "But you said Dumbledore said he might not be back for a long time."

Remus nodded, but his eyes were suddenly thoughtful. "Do you wish he'd return sooner?"

Harry put the bit of waffle in his mouth and shrugged. "Dunno. I'm not exactly angry at him-" He shrugged again, not sure what he was even trying to say.

"You can write to him if you'd like."

Harry nodded and tore off another hunk of waffle. He didn't think he could write a letter though; not just yet. "Do you think he's all right?" he asked.

Remus smiled. "I'm sure he is. Eat now," he said, gesturing to Harry's full plate. His stomach not quite as twisted as it had been when he'd woken up, Harry attacked his waffle while he watched Remus cutting his neatly with a knife and fork.

"Look at this," Sirius' amused voice drawled from the doorway. "Waffles before sunrise and no one invited me?" He gave Harry's ribs a poke as he passed behind him. "Lovely dress, kid. Matches your eyes."

Harry glanced down at the jumper, which actually did look like a dress, and stuck his tongue out. "It isn't even green."

"It's got little emerald flecks," Sirius said, peering closely at it. "Very subtle." He smiled while Harry made a face. He plucked a strawberry from the waiting bowl, perched on the edge of the table beside Harry's chair and popped it into his mouth. Remus gave him a look and Sirius mouthed a what? in his direction.

Remus rolled his eyes and with a snort of amusement, Sirius plopped down beside Harry. His reach toward the warm plate of waffles was interrupted by a tapping at the window.

Sirius and Remus shared a glance and with a small nod from Sirius, Remus waved his wand and the window opened.

"Berenices?" Harry was half out of his chair but before he could move away, Sirius grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back down again. "Sirius, its-"

"I know; hush," Sirius said, applying pressure to Harry's shoulder even as Remus began chanting more revealing spells than Harry had known existed. Berenices squawked her protest, her glossy black feathers ruffling indignantly. But finally, Remus set his wand on the table and approached Draco's owl.

"Ow!" With another squawk and an angry clack of her dark beak, Berenices swooped to the far counter and hunched down, glaring round at all of them. "Damn bird," Remus muttered, which made Harry smile despite the surprise of seeing Draco's owl; he'd never heard Remus swear.

"Are you all right?" Sirius asked. Remus nodded, holding his hand awkwardly as he passed the parchment square to Sirius.

"Can't I read it?"

"It isn't for you," Remus murmured.

Harry turned to Sirius, who looked rather confused. "Draco sent you a letter?"

"I don't think it's from Draco..."

Harry squinted at the folded square, which was labeled neatly with Sirius' whole name, including some Latin words below which Harry didn't understand, though he recognized Mrs. Malfoy's handwriting from all the boxes of sweets she regularly sent to Draco. "What does that say?" he asked, pointing to the Latin.

Sirius grimaced. "It's a formal way of saying I'm the head of the Most Noble House of Black."

"Oh." Though he understood that it was rather odd for Mrs. Malfoy to honor Sirius with the title, Harry didn't understand why she might write him a letter. Sirius glanced at up at Remus over Harry's head and Harry tried to decipher the look on his godfather's face but couldn't.

Sirius unfolded the parchment with lips pressed tightly together and read the letter silently. His eyes scanned the same space over and over and Harry had a hard time sitting still while he waited. Finally, when Harry was just about to blurt out a demand to know what Mrs. Malfoy had said, Sirius glanced up and without a word, handed the letter over to Remus.

"What did she say?"

Sirius shook his head at Harry's question, his eyes on Remus. Huffing in frustration, Harry crossed his arms over his chest and slumped in his seat. Sirius settled a hand on the top his head, though his eyes remained distracted.

"I wouldn't have thought Narcissa could forgo her pride," Remus said, turning Harry's attention.

"Not all mothers are unfeeling," Sirius said, his voice trying to sound nonchalant but Harry knew better. Remus reached across the table to squeeze Sirius' hand, confusing Harry even more. Especially considering Sirius' half-smile.

"What did she do for Draco?" Harry finally asked. Sirius nodded at Remus' questioning look and Remus slid the letter toward Harry. Glancing once more at his godfather, Harry leaned forward.

The letter began again with that long Latin title and Harry skipped ahead to the actual note after the greeting to Sirius.

There is too much history between our families for me to convincingly say that I no longer resent the dishonor you brought upon us, but I must ask that we put that aside for now. My Draco is distraught; I have no other words to describe his state. Though I've never approved of his friendship with Harry, I cannot allow my son to continue to be in pain when I might be able to help him. Even if it means his friendship with Harry will be cemented.

If Harry is willing, I believe Draco will be much improved if he could see him; if only to be certain that Harry is unharmed. I would that you consider that Draco was not in control of his actions. I am not naive enough to expect that you can forgive him, but I ask you as one who loves your own child as much as I do mine to allow Draco to have this. I can conceive of no other way to help him.

Harry head came up slowly, after he read the following suggestion that they meet in a neutral location. "Can we?" he asked quietly, the red eyes for once not forefront in his mind when he thought of his friend. "See Draco, I mean."

It was easy to read Remus' answer; the way his lips were squashed together. Harry turned to Sirius, ready to add a please to the query. But he and Remus were having a silent conversation, their eyes locked. Finally, Remus sighed, letting his weight rest against the back of his chair.

Sirius turned to Harry; he raked a hand through his hair. "Go and fetch me parchment... and a quill."

--

The following afternoon, Harry accepted a chocolate from the tin on Dumbledore's desk and jammed it into a pocket.

"Cocoa?" the headmaster offered. Harry shook his head and sat beside Sirius; Remus was standing by the window. Sirius declined the next offer of tea, ignoring the plate of scones as well. "Remus?"

Remus glanced over his shoulder. "No thank you, Albus," he murmured and then went back to gazing out over the grounds.

"Harry, surely you'd like a scone. The elves make a fabulous cinnamon scone."

Draco's favorite.

But Harry didn't think he could force down even one nibble.

"Perhaps later," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes especially gentle. There was a light rapping on the door as he set the tray aside. "Ah." With a wave of his hand, the door opened.

Draco stood on the other side under the canopy of his mother's sleeve, his gaze meeting Harry's instantly.

Sirius stood, and Harry quickly mimicked his movements. Draco and Mrs. Malfoy stepped into the room and Harry thought his friend looked terrible; there were deep shadows under his eyes and he looked fragile somehow--but Harry couldn't have explained why he thought so.

"Narcissa, Draco," Dumbledore greeted them with a smile. He ushered them toward the gathered chairs near his desk but neither of them moved farther than just inside the door. Mrs. Malfoy had her gaze firmly fixed on Sirius; her fingers were firmly clutching Draco's shoulder. Dumbledore looked between Draco's mum and Sirius, finally dipping his head and saying quietly, "I have some school matters to attend to." With another smile, he left them alone.

Draco was still staring; Harry stuffed his fists into his pockets, his shoulders hunching up a bit. "Hi."

Something shifted in Draco's face--in the eyes that were simply grey and familiar. And just Draco's. "Hi."

Harry smiled. He gestured with his head toward the headmaster's desk. "Dumbledore's got scones; cinnamon."

A little smile brightened Draco's pale features. "Butter?"

"Cream too."

Mrs. Malfoy and Harry's parents watched them from their loose circle near the door as Harry and Draco buttered their scones.