The night before the hearing, Draco slept badly. When he finally did sleep, it was broken and insubstantial. He dreamed that Manimi had been split into three smaller snakes who spoke in English, each with a different person's voice. The one with his father's voice bit him, the one with his mother's voice died, and the one with Harry's voice shrank until it was nothing. He woke up in a cold sweat to see that his window was wide open and freezing air was billowing into his room. He grabbed Harry's scarf from the pillow beside his (so maybe he had been sleeping with it next to him) and felt himself warm up deliciously as he wrapped himself in it. He got dressed after he had closed the window, bluish early-morning light creeping in through the glass, and then began to walk to the kitchen to get something to eat.

Funnily enough for Draco, his sleep had generally been improving over the last few months. Sure, during the Triwizard Tournament, and those nights when Harry had worried him, he had barely slept at all. But in general, everything was getting a little better. It probably had something to do with his father being away so much. Unfortunately, things didn't feel better today. The fact that Harry might not be allowed back to Hogwarts again sent him into a panic when he thought about it for too long, and he felt cold despite the magic of the scarf. To make matters worse, Manimi was still out hunting, meaning Draco was totally alone in his sufferings.

It took Draco half the journey to the kitchen to realise that he wasn't in the slightest bit hungry, and instead, he diverted to the entrance hall and out into dew-splashed grounds. Without thinking, his bare feet led him back to the same spot he always gravitated to: the rose garden with the koi fish. The smell of the flowers made him calmer. As he stood and breathed the smell in deeply, a drop of icy condensation fell from the overhead climbing plants onto Draco's head and trickled through his hair, making him shiver horribly. Lifting his hand to wipe the water from his skin, he inhaled roses and tried to forget.

He stayed in the garden until he could no longer smell the roses. He had no idea what time it was but imagined that, possibly, the trial might be over and a letter might be on its way. Then, while he trudged back to the Manor, he heard a whoosh of air above his head and looked up to see a snowy owl soar above his head, and turn to angle herself back down towards him. His hands shook as he took the letter from Hedwig and ripped it open, thanking her before sending her off again, and hastily read the scrawled writing.

Draco,

Cleared of all charges!

Love, Harry.

0o0o

"You wanted to see me, father?" Draco tried very hard to stop his voice from shaking as he stood straight and proper in Lucius Malfoy's office. A week left of the holidays, and he had almost got through without a single run-in. But it wasn't going to happen, not on Lucius' watch. He had never gone a holiday without doing this and wasn't going to break that habit now.

Lucius' cheek had a large, deep looking slash across it, which was only just beginning to scab over. Draco knew not to ask where he had got it. His father didn't instantly reply - Draco wasn't expecting him to - but instead, he finished whatever he was doing at his desk. Eventually, he turned his eyes on Draco.

Once, when he was about seven, Draco had seen a dead fish in the kitchens. Its eyes had been glossy and white, like milk that has gone off, and had stared unseeingly straight through the soul of the child. It had scared him so much that he had been sick. His father's eyes were the same: blank, pale, and, above all, dead.

"Draco, come here." His voice was flat and dead as his eyes. Draco obeyed swiftly.

Lucius stood up, still towering over Draco despite his recent growth, a hand resting lazily on his snake-headed cane. "Why, dearest son of mine, has the news reached me that that mudblood has beaten you in every subject except potions - which is taught by your godfather and therefore doesn't count - for the fourth year in a row?"

Draco felt an overwhelming urge to run away. "I'm sorry, father."

"'I'm sorry' doesn't change the fact that, for the fourth year now, you have disappointed and embarrassed me!" Lucius Malfoy practically screamed this in Draco's face, spraying him with spittle. Draco winced.

"Father, I'm trying! But she's just... very clever?"

The blow came from the metal end of Lucius' cane, hitting him in the chest. Draco felt his lower ribs bending and, excruciatingly, cracking under the force of the blow and reached for the breath to cry out, but found no air in his lungs. He fell back and felt his head hit hard against the panelled floor, barely able to breathe for the pain, with tears leaking out of his eyes.

"Crying, are you? YOU DESERVE THIS, DRACO!" Lucius cried with some crazy laughter, an evil smile playing across his face. Lifting his leg, he placed a boot on Draco's chest and, terribly, slowly, pushed down. The pain through his broken rib was almost unbearable and Draco screamed out, sobbing, unable to think enough through the pain enough to formulate words to plead with his father - as if that would have made any difference.

Finally, the pressure on his chest was removed. Lucius Malfoy bent over him and said, quietly, "It'll be worse than this next time if you don't shape up, Draco." Then, through the haze of pain, Draco heard him walking out of the office, leaving him on the floor of the office.

When Draco had the courage to move, he pushed himself up and saw the large painting of himself with his parents. His mother was sobbing, trying to reach towards him through the painting, while his father stood like stone, unmoving, with an iron grip on the painting-Draco's shoulder. And his painting-self was just standing there, tears silently cascading down his face, the hand of his father preventing him from doing anything to help his mother. The sight of his mother in such hysterics hurt Draco just as much as his broken rib.

"Please mum, I'll be fine. Please stop crying,"

"Get out." Said his painting-father. So Draco did.

0o0oHarry0o0o

Harry had never been so thankful to see the Great Hall. Despite the students who stared at him suspiciously and whispered behind their hands, the fear that he might never see it again had made him appreciate every minute detail of it. But the beauty of the Hall was completely lost on Harry as soon as he sat down, because it was then that he spotted Draco.

The Summer had changed him. His hair was longer and kept much more messily now, falling perfectly in his eyes instead of being slicked back. It suited him like hell. And he looked healthier now, less pale and maybe - it was difficult to see from across the Hall - even a little less spindly. Clearly, the walks in the grounds of the Manor had done him some good. He had lost the lanky quality that boys get when they grow too fast for their bodies to keep up. For the first time Harry had known him, he looked healthy.

All this went through Harry's mind in a second as he watched Draco talking easily to Pansy and Blaise, who were both laughing at something he had said. Then he saw Draco turn around, and practically had palpitations as their eyes met briefly. Draco grinned at him for just a second, and then turned away once more.

Dinner went excruciatingly slowly, but not only was it boring, it was sinister. The toad-woman who had wanted Harry convicted at his trial was going to the DADA teacher, which, according to Hermione, meant that the Ministry was interfering at Hogwarts. And, when it was finally over, Harry had no choice but to head back to the common room with Ron and Hermione, who, as they were prefects, were hearding first-years along the corridors. When they finally got to the common room, the air between Harry and the other students was dead. he knew they had been discussing him just moments before. Then, Dean stood up.

0o0oDraco0o0o

"Limerence," Draco smiled as he spoke the word, and pushed inside the room. He had told Manimi to wait inside the common room until a bit later, to give them some space for a bit. He hoped she hadn't offended her too much, but he was sure she would understand. The Slytherin common room had been unbearable. Because of The Daily Prophet, all the talk was about Harry and none of it was good. Not that it was usually good, but it was certainly worse than usual, and this had prompted him to leave for the guest room earlier than the arranged ten o'clock. While he waited for Harry, Draco walked around the room straightening already-straight pillows and generally fidgeting with the furniture and dressings of the grand room. He went into the bathroom, checked his hair - he hoped Harry wouldn't mind that he had changed it up a bit - and wiped his face with a damp towel. Then, five minutes before ten, the door swung open. Confusingly, no one was there. And then Draco was bowled over by a fast-moving force and found himself sitting, rather promptly, on the floor with Harry ripping off the invisibility cloak before squeezing Draco so hard that he could barely breathe, and Draco hugging back just as tightly, ignoring the pain he was feeling in his newly-mended ribs. Neither said anything, they didn't need to. The smell of Harry was intoxicating, it made Draco feel like he was high, and as their lips finally met, Draco realised how empty, how lonely he had felt over the summer. But now he was whole, and it felt incredible. Harry grinned at him as they finally broke apart.

"It's so good to see you," He said breathlessly. Draco just pulled him closer once more, burying himself in Harry and wishing that he wouldn't ever have to let go.

0o0oHarry0o0o

There were four reasons Harry could bear school: Hermione, Ron, Draco, and Manimi. Unfortunately, there were many more reasons why he couldn't bear school. Everyone was suspicious of him, the prophet spouted lies about him, and worst of all, Umbridge's detentions were making his life hell.

When Draco had seen the words carved on his hand, he had fought Harry to let him go to Umbridge and "Give the bitch a taste of her own god-damned potion!", and even when Harry had convinced him to calm down, he had been in a bad mood for the rest of the evening. And now, Harry was pretty sure he about to give him another reason to be in a bad mood.

"So, I uh... I met Cho Chang today in the owlery," Harry spoke quickly and looked down at Draco, who had been reading with his head on Harry's lap. Draco's eyes didn't move from the book.

"Potter, if you're about to leave me for her, it's your loss. She might have a pretty face, but I have a much more ethereal, ghostly beauty in both my looks and my actions which far excels any other."

Harry's face became very hot at the quotation of one of his letters. "You ponce!" He spluttered.

"Why're you embarrassed? You wrote it," Draco laughed.

"I know, I just... you know it off by heart?"

Draco shrugged. "What were you gonna say about Chang?"

"Well, it's just that I think she likes me."

"So? Who can blame her?"

"But you don't get it. If she asks me out, it'll look seriously weird if I say no. I mean, from an objective point of view, she is very good looking."

Draco finally laid the book down and looked at him. "Let's cross that bridge when we get to it, okay?"

"Okay,"

Draco smiled and got back to his book. From where she had been coiled on the king-sized bed, Manimi loosened and hissed to Harry:

"Poor you, having to put up with these girls throwing themselves at you,"

"Shut up," Harry hissed laughingly.