Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Returning to Sanity	By : AchillesTheGeek Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 31212 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter books or films, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
20. Pledges given and returned
Friday, 22 May 1998
For breakfast that morning, Kreacher made pancakes, and Harry happily drowned them in maple syrup as always. But before he could eat any, Draco cheekily reached out his fork and sliced off a piece. Harry opened his mouth to protest, and Draco took advantage of this to feed the sliver of pancake to his lover.
Now, Harry loved pancakes, especially with maple syrup; before today, he would, if pressed, probably have said that they rated as his favourite breakfast. But now he knew better. Only now did he discover that his favourite breakfast was being fed pancakes in maple syrup by his lover. Of course he couldn't resist returning the favour, and they continued happily feeding each other all through breakfast.
And as it is hard enough to navigate drowned pancake into one's own mouth without dripping syrup everywhere, neither was surprised that they had made rather a mess of each other's faces by the time they had finished.
"Ugh, my lips are all sticky now," Draco complained.
"I can help you with that," Harry said, sidling up to him.
"Go on, then," said Draco with a smirk.
Harry didn't need any more encouragement; he kissed his lover, and licked away all the stickiness. Draco returned the favour happily, and they sat together embracing one another and kissing long after all the syrup was gone.
Kreacher, looking on, smiled happily to himself. He hid it well, but he had a sentimental streak in him; the sight of the Black heir and the Black descendent enjoying one another's company so intimately, completely oblivious of his presence, gladdened his heart, and he snuck quietly away to his den in the boiler room so as not to disturb them.

Harry's house-repair spells came on faster and stronger than before; by lunchtime, the whole of the ground floor was starting to feel much more solid. Kreacher came out of his den and cast an appraising, and appreciative, eye over the restoration. He joined in the work, madly polishing and cleaning, until the whole ground floor was almost unrecognizable as the same house. There were still Mad-Eye's protective spells and the portrait of Walburga Black to deal with; though Harry realized that the old Black matriarch hadn't yelled at them since Draco had arrived. When he mentioned this, Draco told him he had had a quiet chat with her when he arrived, and assured her that he would keep a good eye on the house while he was there. This seemed to have calmed her considerably, which made life a lot more pleasant for all of them.
As well as things were progressing, the spells and portrait would have to wait for another day. As agreed with Professor Flitwick, they Flooed to Hogwarts for lunch. As they arrived in the Headmistress's office, a thought occurred to Draco; and, emboldened by her kindness from yesterday, he plucked up the courage to ask,
"Forgive me, Headmistress, but Blaise said he received a letter from Hogwarts and I was wondering …"
"Why you did not receive one?" she finished for him.
"Exactly," he agreed.
She smiled at him. "Mr Zabini only received a letter asking him if he intended to return; we have not yet made formal offers. There was no need to send either of you such a letter; you are required to attend by the Ministry, and Mr Potter has confirmed his interest verbally. You will each, of course, receive a formal offer, in due course." As she said this, she looked kindly at both of them; but, as her eyes fell on Harry, her expression changed to a knowing smile.
"Something to tell me, Potter?" she asked, in the closest thing to a casual voice Harry had ever heard her use.
"Um…" Harry said, looking blank. "No?"
Draco smirked. "You mean, apart from having a lover?" he prompted.
Harry went very red. It simply hadn't occurred to him to discuss his love-life with his old housemistress! But apparently there was something that made it very obvious that he and Draco were now together.
"Quite," said the headmistress, giving Draco an appreciative look, a look that said, 'he's such a duffer; you and I need to take good care of him'.
It was the first time Draco had ever felt any kind of warmth specifically directed at him from his former Transfigurations professor; it was an amazing feeling for a former Death Eater who was, to tell the truth, still a bit surprised that people weren't spitting at him openly, rather than enlisting his help and taking him to their hearts (and, in Harry's case, his bed).
He gave her a look back, which said, 'I promise'.
"Very good," she said to him, accepting the unspoken pledge. "Enjoy your lunch!"

There were only two long tables set out in the Great Hall, instead of the usual four; to make the point that they weren't in houses, Draco supposed. Harry sat down at once opposite Neville Longbottom and Dean Thomas; after a tiny hesitation Draco sat next to him. He was the only Slytherin present, and felt it.
He schooled his face to the slightly disdainful look that had served him so well during school, and greeted them with a curt nod each. "Longbottom; Thomas," he said, something of his old bravado coming through.
But Neville obviously didn't believe the self-assured tone for a minute. "Don't worry, Draco," he told the blond, winking as he passed the blond a basket of bread rolls, "we won't bite!"
"Not hard, anyway!" Dean added.
"Dean!" Neville said, admonishingly. "Don't be like that, we're all friends here. Did you get that red mark removed from the blue tapestry?"
Neville and Dean went on to discuss the restoration work they had obviously been doing together. Draco, glad to have been relieved of the duty to converse, withdrew into himself just a little. He was a bit stunned. Was this really Longbottom? Where was the nervous, anxious, gangly boy? Where did this self-assured, attractive young man come from?
Harry must have picked up on his thoughts because he leaned over and whispered into his ear, "you know Neville killed Nagini, right, Draco?"
Draco turned to look at him with slightly widened eyes; he hadn't known. Just as quietly, he asked, "Is that why he's … um ..." He couldn't find words to articulate his surprise, but Harry understood.
"Yes. What with that, and he and George Weasley getting together, his confidence has been boosted no end."
Wow, Draco thought. George Weasley and Neville Longbottom? Never saw that one coming!
"There you are! There you are!" Flitwick twittered, coming over to them. "I hope you are enjoying your lunch!"
"Yes, thank you, Professor," Draco answered. The Professor was floating along again, which put him at head-height with the seated workers. Draco was rather ashamed to think that he had found the tiny wizard comical, now that he had seen him duel during the War, and his charmwork yesterday. Small, he may be; but there were few wizards who could match him for magic, Draco suspected, and he certainly wouldn't want to try himself.
"Come, come, Mr. Malfoy, your face is too serious. I won't have my workers frowning! We must set you to work!" Flitwick said.
Draco smiled in spite of himself. The enthusiasm was infectious, and he was looking forward to spending the afternoon working with Harry in any case.

Once they were back in the Eighth Year Tower, Flitwick swore them to secrecy before revealing his plans for the accommodation.
"Here it is! Here is my baby!" he said, conjuring a table and unrolling a huge blueprint showing his very intricate and ingenious idea. "And I can't think of anyone better to bring it to life than you two!"
The staff had decided that, since the students were that much older than the others, and all of age, it would not be appropriate to house them dormitory-style, but rather in two-person rooms. Flitwick had planned four towers, each containing four bedrooms, arranged with two bedrooms and a shared bathroom on each of two floors. This provided convenient accommodation for thirty-two students; and each tower could easily be doubled in height if necessary, or even whole extra towers added if required; but as they only expected nineteen students to return, the proposal would comfortably house all of them and provide an extra tower of accommodation for visiting students. Flitwick explained that ever since since the Triwizard Tournament there had been considerable interest from both the Durmstrang Institute and Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in establishing a reciprocal programme of student exchanges; and the interest had only increased since Voldemort's defeat. Privately, he admitted, he thought that having the Destroyer of Voldemort at the school was definitely a huge draw-card. But nothing had as yet been finalised.
Draco gasped as he pored over the design. It was sheer brilliance. The spellwork had all been plotted out and calculated precisely; all they had to do was follow the instructions.
"You really want me to be part of making this?" he said.
"Oh yes, Mr. Malfoy! I have great faith in your charmwork! And think of the message that you and Harry creating this place in concert will send to our society – that even former enemies really can work together, and achieve wonderful results!"
"Thank you, Professor," Draco said with difficulty, barely holding back tears. He found the trust the man was showing in him almost overwhelming.
Flitwick looked at him carefully. "Yes, well, I think you are well able to do the job, so I'll leave you to it." He levitated the blueprint over to the wall, where he placed it with a Sticking charm so that it would be readily available as a handy reference without the risk of anyone spilling anything onto it. As he was leaving, he pulled Harry down to his mouth and whispered into his ear, "take care of him, won't you."
"Oh yes, Professor, I promise," Harry replied.

At four o'clock, they were busy working on the top rooms when they heard a small voice from the common room two floors below.
"Young masters is wanting some tea?" it called.
"Yes, please!" Harry yelled back, and they both raced down to the common room. There they found Winky the house-elf laden with a huge tea-tray, replete with fruit tarts and scones with jam and cream, which she placed on the table Flitwick had conjured. She was looking around, blinking huge and obviously astonished eyes.
"Young masters is doing miracles!" she said, with great warmth. "Professor Flitwick is being very pleased with young masters, Winky being certain!"
"Thank you!" said Draco. Harry was a bit busy to say anything; he was ravenously hungry, he had discovered, and was already halfway through his second scone as he stirred his tea with one hand, the other holding the other half-scone.
"OI!" Draco twitted him, "leave some for me!"
"You'll have to be quick!" said Harry, placing the half-eaten scone into his mouth and reaching for his third. But he didn't get it; Draco levitated the plate away from him and grabbed it himself.
"Hah!" he said, taking a bite from his prize; but then softened the moment as he reached over to feed his lover the remainder.
Harry decided that being fed scones by Draco for afternoon tea was every bit as good as being fed pancakes for breakfast by him.
Winky smiled at them. "Young masters is being very happy!" she squealed. "Winky is pleased! Headmistress McGonagall is asking Winky to make sure young masters is all right!"
Then the elf started, and put her hand over her mouth. Harry guessed she wasn't supposed to say anything, and he knew he couldn't let her punish herself; especially as he thought it was really quite sweet that McGonagall was concerned about them.
"It's all right, Winky," he reassured her. She had been the Crouch's house-elf and dismissed from service, which had hit her hard; she had become addicted to butter-beer, he remembered, but she seemed to be getting over it. "And how are you? You look like you're doing better than before."
"Thank you Master Harry Potter!" she answered. "Winky be happy to be being of service! Winky fought in the Battle, and killed a werewolf, and even Kreacher be saying how well Winky be doing to do so, and how it making Winky be a proper house-elf again." She puffed out her chest in pride. "So now Winky showing everyone she being a good elf!"
"You are an excellent house-elf," Draco confirmed, "and if you promise us more scones and pastries, I'll let everyone know!"
Winky nodded, ecstatic at such praise, and vanished with a pop. She didn't come back herself, but an enormous plate of sweet treats appeared, which they munched on during the rest of the afternoon.
Harry looked at his lover, shaking his head. "Shameless," he said.
"Oh absolutely," Draco replied with a wink as he picked up an apple turnover, "but it works!"

By six o'clock they were sitting, exhausted, in armchairs they had conjured. The first of the four towers was structurally complete, and they had made a start on the magic foundations for the second. Flitwick came in, and they started up guiltily. He waved them down.
"Please, don't get up; everyone knows you have been very busy, Winky has been extolling your praises to us all for the last two hours! You sit and rest while I go and see how you have done, and what the design looks like."
He looked around, making noises of delight at everything he saw. He came to the staircase up to the first tower, and examined it closely.
"Excellent! Beautiful work!" they heard him exclaim to himself before he floated up the staircase into the completed tower. Harry decided they must have dozed for a few minutes, for it only seemed seconds later that Flitwick returned, clapping his hands with glee.
"Magnificent!" he said. "It is every bit as good as I had hoped! Perhaps even more special! And your progress is astonishing, truly astonishing! You will have all the towers finished in a week at this rate, and I had allowed four weeks to build them! Now, you must tell me, which rooms will you have?"
"We get to choose our own room?" Harry asked, taken aback.
"But certainly!" the older wizard answered. "It is only a fitting reward for such excellent work as this!"
"Can we be together?" Draco asked. It wasn't clear if he was asking Flitwick or Harry; possibly both.
"Yes, please, Professor, could we have the top room facing over the lake?" Harry asked.
"Of course!" Flitwick answered, smiling, making the one answer do for both questions. He swished his wand, and on his blueprint a legend appeared in an ornate box drawn beside the corresponding room:
* Mr Harry James Potter

* Mr Draco Lucius Malfoy
"Now, we can finish here for the day. And for the week as well!" Flitwick continued. "I hope you will have a most pleasant weekend, gentlemen! We will see you on Monday, yes?"
"Of course, Professor," they both said, together.

That night, as they lay in bed, Harry was concerned at how tense Draco seemed to be.
"Turn over, love," he said, as he undid the blond's pyjama buttons and removed his top. Draco, surprised, wondered what was going on, but complied nevertheless; Harry Accioed some oil from his bedside cabinet, and rubbed his lover's back, using his thumbs to massage deeply up and down his spine. Draco began to moan softly as his muscles unknotted and the tension he was feeling began to melt away.
"Oh, Harry" he murmured, "feels so good …"
"What's worrying you, love?"
Draco looked round at him. "You're really OK with all this?"
"All what?" Harry asked, confused.
"Working with me, being seen at Hogwarts with me, committing to spend the whole school year sharing a room with me. Can you imagine what the Daily Prophet will have to say when they find out about it?"
Oh, Harry thought. It just hadn't occurred to him that any of this was a big deal; he didn't really care what anyone else thought. But of course Draco had been schooled his whole life to consider how everything he did would look to other people, so it was second nature for him to be worried about what others would say about their relationship. And, of course, to worry about how Harry would react, and whether he would want to continue.
But Harry Potter had never walked away from anything yet. People had accused him of lying about Voldemort; hell, he still had the scars from Umbridge's quill telling him I must not tell lies, when in fact he never had. Well, not about Voldemort, anyway. He hadn't given up when they were all against him then, and he certainly wasn't going to now when his heart was on the line. And he knew Draco needed to hear that.
"I'm not going to give up on you, Draco," he assured the blond. "I love you. I wasn't sure before, and I'm still worried about keeping our relationship honest and not being dictated by the Debt; but I am sure now. Having you in my life is something I want, and I don't care two knuts what anybody says about it. And having you in my bed is one of the most wonderful things that's ever happened, and I want you here. Always."
Draco looked at him, unable to speak for emotion, his eyes glistening with tears. He rolled over onto his back and drew his lover down into a deep kiss, as his hands ranged down the broad back. He broke the kiss, his tongue ranging down Harry's cheek and neck, happily sucking and kissing as the other wizard drew sharp breaths of pleasure, while his fingers found, and quickly undid, the buttons of Harry's shirt. Once they were all undone, Harry took his shirt off and threw it to the floor, then put his glasses on the bedside cabinet out of harm's way for good measure.
They lay together, skin to skin, kissing and rubbing each other. Harry found every scar on his beloved, and smoothed it over with his oily hands. Last of all, he kissed all the way down the Sectumsempra scar.
"You remember I forgave you, right?" Draco said when he had finished.
"Yes," said Harry, but Draco, staring into his eyes, didn't quite believe him.
"Let me show you," he pleaded, slipping his hands inside Harry's shorts. Harry didn't resist, so Draco slipped them off him altogether. He took a little of the oil onto his own hands, and then began to stroke Harry’s cock gently with his right hand, his left hand tickling his balls.
Harry tried to reciprocate, but Draco wasn't having it.
"Just lie back," he insisted. "This is about you, Harry. You need to know how much I forgive you, how much I just want to bring you pleasure …"
As he spoke, Harry did as he was commanded, lying back and closing his eyes. In his turn, he began to moan at the feeling of being touched so gently, so lovingly. His cock quickly grew rigid under Draco’s tender ministry, and the blond picked up the pace until Harry groaned aloud in warning, then came. As he did, Draco bent down and kissed him, long and lovingly, and Harry, overcome by the moment and the love being shown him, drifted off to sleep.
Draco smiled. He found his wand and whispered a Tergeo to banish the evidence of their love-making, and then cuddled the sleeping Gryffindor in his arms.

He was standing in the new Tower, in their new room, when he heard an all-too familiar voice.
"So, freak!" the hateful voice broke into his sleepy mind. "You think you deserve a room of your own, hey? Why would anybody, even one of those other freaks, waste a nice space like this on you? Get back in your cupboard! That's all you deserve!"
"No!" Harry cried. "I don't have to! I have my own house and my own lover! You can't control me any more!"
But the pig-eyed man just laughed at him. "Yes, and your lover is a man! You queer! We'll have to beat that out of you!" he said, raising the riding-crop in his hand.
"NO!" Harry yelled "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"HARRY!" he heard, as warm hands shook him awake.
"Wha'?" he said, still groggy with sleep. "Where am I?" And then, with surprise, "I'm naked!"
"Hush, Harry, you're here, we're in bed together, I love you, you love me, and you had a nightmare." Draco assured him. "What was it this time?"
"Vernon," Harry said, shuddering at the memory of his uncle.
It was obvious that Harry didn't want to talk about it. Draco decided they would have to, soon, but not now. And since Harry was concerned about being naked, he slipped his own shorts off so they were both nude together, and held Harry tight.
By now, Harry had remembered where he was and what had happened, and he smiled at his lover. "Thank you for waking me," he said; the 'and stopping the nightmare' wasn't said, but Draco heard it anyway. Draco kissed him, a silent promise to be there for him, always.
"I seem to remember I owe you something," Harry continued, caressing Draco's cock.
"Mmmm…" Draco said. Harry kissed and licked his nipples while continuing to stroke, and Draco quickly became rock-hard. "Oooh, that's nice. Oh … Oh ..." Wanking had never felt this good; the warmth and strength of another's loving hand round his member made him see stars, and he came in Harry's hand.
"Thank you," he whispered. And then Harry, without wand or word, cast Tergeo himself. Draco gasped. There was none of the rough feeling he'd known whenever people had cast cleansing charms on him before; Harry's charm was like being wiped with silk. It was yet more proof of how much he loved him.
"Oh Harry," he moaned in ecstasy, clasping his lover tightly to his chest, and they both fell at last into deep sleep untouched by memories of the past.

Saturday, 23 May 1998
Kreacher's voice rang out, far too early as far as Harry was concerned. A Tempus told him it was seven o'clock. On a Saturday morning. Why did he have to get up?
"Master Harry! Master Draco! Masters must come quickly! The Muggle-born mistress has being Floo-called to say she is coming in an hour! Masters must get up!"
"WHAT!" Draco yelped, leaping out of bed, obviously heading for the bathroom to bathe and dress.
"Stop!" Harry yelled just before he left the room. Draco turned to him, and he looked Draco up and down, "I didn't get a proper look at you last night."
Draco reddened a little, feeling a bit like a specimen on display.
"You're gorgeous," Harry cooed, "and also, you didn't give me a 'Good Morning' kiss."
Draco's heart melted. He went back to his lover and kissed him, nipping him gently, licking those sweet, lovely lips. Harry's mouth opened and their tongues meshed as their arms wrapped around each other.
But sadly, there was the business of the day to attend to; and Draco had always been brought up with 'business before pleasure', so reluctantly he pulled away from the embrace.
"Best not let Granger see us like this," he said.
"Hermione," Harry reminded him. But he did have a point: they were both naked, and if his expression was anything like Draco's, it was all too obvious what they had been doing.
"Hermione," Draco agreed, accepting the correction, then left the room.

They just made it. As they sat down to ham and eggs, bang on eight o'clock, the Floo in the drawing room two floors above them gave that familiar in-coming noise, and they heard voices calling them.
"Hermione, Ron, George, and Neville!" said Harry, surprised at so many visitors so early.
"It's an invasion!" Draco answered, mock-serious.
Harry smiled at him, and then yelled up the stairs to the others, "We're in the kitchen!"
They heard stomp, stomp, stomp down the stairs and suddenly they were surrounded by the noise and laughter of four very happy people.
"Now why are you four here, and so happy this early in the morning?" Harry asked; though he suspected he could guess.
"WE'RE ENGAGED!" all four of them yelled excitedly at the same time.
"What, all four of you together? Two brothers and two others?" Draco asked.
George burst out laughing as Ron went bright red. "NO, NO!" He yelled. "Hermione and I are engaged to each other!"
"And George and me," Neville continued; George was laughing so hard at the expression on Ron's face that he was unable to speak.
The noise level increased as Harry and Draco rose to congratulate them all, with hugs and kisses for Hermione, and hugs with manly handshakes for Ron, George and Neville.
Hermione proudly showed off an exquisite ring. Draco looked at it appreciatively. "White gold, with topaz," he said, approvingly, "it tones with your hair beautifully. An excellent choice, if I may say so."
Ron beamed at this praise. They asked to see his ring; he blushed and said he didn't have one, being a boy; Hermione pointed out that he was a bit traditional like that.
"He proposed to me in the arbour at the Burrow last night," she said, with a dreamy, soppy look in her eyes that Draco managed, with difficulty, not to giggle at. "Said that he'd always wanted me and would I be his forever?"
"'Course she said no," George said. He got murderous looks from Ron and Hermione, but unrepentantly added, "he can only have her till death, remember? Forever is a bit long…"
"Do you like our rings?" Neville asked, sensing that things were going a little awry. George was a great prankster, but his sense of humour wasn't always a good thing. It wasn't really the time to talk about death …
"Let's see them," Harry answered, and the two men happily showed off two very simple, classic pieces. George had rose-gold, toning with his skin and hair, with a single ruby; Neville's ring was silver with a sapphire, matching George's stone in cut and setting.
"Beautiful," Draco pronounced.
"We're very happy for all four of you," Harry said.
George looked at him fixedly.
"We?" He said. "Speaking for both of you, then, little brother? Is there something you want to tell us?" And then, as Harry didn't answer but just went redder, "are you two boy-friends now?"
Harry giggled. "I can't imagine calling Draco my boy-friend," he said, and indeed Draco looked scandalised at the thought. "But yes, we've decided we are lovers."
"Oooh!" Hermione squealed, and now it was Harry and Draco's turn to be engulfed in congratulatory hugs, kisses, and handshakes.

It turned out that Hermione and Neville had not breakfasted yet, and Ron and George, being Weasleys, were very happy to keep them company while eating, so Kreacher was made very happy preparing mountains more ham and eggs for the men, toast for Hermione, and a seemingly endless supply of tea for all of them. Once they were comfortably fed, Ron and George began a discussion about the upcoming Quidditch match between Norway and Bulgaria. Harry was surprised that such things were still going on, but on reflection was glad that the War hadn't stopped other countries from enjoying themselves.
"Do you think Britain will be competing next year?" he asked.
"Don't see why not, the preliminaries aren't for another few months," Neville answered, and with that the discussion got going in earnest.
Quiddltch really wasn't Hermione's thing, and it was obvious that she felt a bit left out of the conversation; so Draco suggested that the two of them resume reading the books he had brought from the Manor. But when they got to the drawing room, they sat in settees opposite each other and he confessed he really wanted to talk about something else.
"I'm glad I've got you alone," he said. "I want to know how you've been coping with Harry's nightmares and if there's anything I should know to help him with them."
Hermione looked at him blankly. "Nightmares?" she asked. "The last I heard about was one he had on the day of the Battle of Hogwarts. Has he been having more?"
"Every night I've been here," Draco answered, becoming worried. If Harry hadn't had nightmares until he got there, did that mean that Draco was causing them? Was his presence at night somehow upsetting his lover?
Hermione's face echoed his concern. "What have they been about?" she asked.
"Let's think." Draco answered. "Wednesday was about Moody; Thursday … we didn't talk about, but I think he mentioned something about Remus … last night, Vernon. Who is Vernon?" he asked.
"His uncle, Vernon Dursley," Hermione replied. "He treated Harry something shocking; but he never talks about it."
Remembering the vision he had had on the morning of Snape's funeral, Draco asked, "Is he an obscenely fat man with little eyes like pigs'?"
"Yes," said Hermione, surprised. "Have you met him? Or did Harry describe him to you?"
"No to the first, and definitely not the second," Draco said. "He hasn't said very much about the past to me, either; but I think that has to change."
"Oh Draco," she said, "if you can get him to tell you about that, that would be amazing. He doesn't tell anyone about it. He thinks it will hurt us so he keeps it all bottled up inside, causing him pain."
But then she shut up like a trap; and turning, Draco saw why, as Harry came into the room.
"Here you are!" he said brightly. "We've finished discussing Quidditch; sorry to be so dull." He looked at them in turn and asked, "am I interrupting something?"
"No, no," Hermione said, but too quickly.
"I am, aren't I?" He looked at Draco. "What's wrong? You're not thinking of leaving are you?"
Why did he ask that? Draco thought to himself. In fact, he had wondered if he should go, to save Harry from having further nightmares. Best to be honest, he decided.
"I'm concerned about your nightmares, Harry. Apparently you only have them when I'm with you."
Harry grabbed him, hugging him tightly. "Don't you dare leave!" he said, his voice tinged with fear. "I couldn't bear not having you here!"
This is new, Draco thought. "I told you, Harry, I'm here as long as you want me."
"Then you'll never leave," Harry said, decisively, forcing a smile onto his face. Draco smiled in return.
"Hm-hm," came Ron's voice behind them, and it occurred to them that perhaps they were being a little too intimate for company. Harry let go of Draco and sat beside him on the settee.
"Mum's having a big party tonight," Ron said, obviously making an effort to avoid being embarrassed. "To celebrate two engagements and one mission of mercy."
Harry and Draco looked blank at this, so Hermione added, "that's our going to fetch mum and dad."
"Will you both please come?" Ron continued.
Harry looked happy, but Draco was rather unsure. "Um, do you really think I'd be welcome?" he asked.
"Mum had some invitations made up last night when we told her about the engagements," George said, pushing Ron into the room as the red-head had been inadvertently blocking the door. "When we told her you and Harry were here together, she specially made this one for you," he continued, handing Draco a card of very stiff, formal white parchment, beautifully engraved in the deep crimson ink customarily used by pure-blood families to invite people they respected to share happy occasions.

Mr and Mrs Arthur Weasley

Have great delight in requesting

the pleasure of the company of

their cousin-in-blood and companion-in-magic

Draco Lucius Malfoy

At a party to celebrate

the engagements of their sons
Ronald Bilius Weasley, to Hermione Jean Granger,

And

George Fabian Weasley, to Neville Francis Longbottom

6pm, Saturday, 23 May 1998, at The Burrow

Draco was stunned. In this simple act, the Weasleys had told him that he was welcome in their family too. For he knew very well that 'cousin-in-blood and companion-in-magic' was the oldest, most formal, pure-blood formula; the Weasleys would not have asked him like that unless they really wanted him to be there.
Here was a chance to bury once and for all the tedious "blood-traitor" nonsense that had dogged their lives. To refuse such an invitation was unthinkable. There was only one thing to do.
He turned to Ron and asked, "May I borrow your owl?"
"Sure," Ron answered, "Pig loves taking letters, don't you Pig?" he asked, turning to the tiny owl, who was sitting on the stand next to the window, preening himself.
The little owl hooted at him excitedly, while Draco made his way to the writing desk, took up a quill and wrote out his reply. As was required by custom, he was careful not to make his writing too beautiful, so that it would be clear he had written it out himself, rather than using magic. He chose the slightly less formal short form of reply, which would show that he appreciated their gesture but did not intend to stand on ceremony.

Draco Lucius Malfoy
Sends warm greetings to
Mr and Mrs Arthur Weasley
And accepts with pleasure their kind invitation

to this evening's celebration.

He rolled up the letter, and Pig, after dancing maniacally, let him attach it, and then flew off to the Burrow.
"Right," he said, smiling. "I'm coming!"
"Brilliant!" Ron said.
Draco stared at him. Ron held his gaze, then, answering the unspoken question, said, "Yes, I really think so. You and Harry are obviously happy together, and seeing my friends happy is a great joy. And mum will be pleased too."
"She will!" Hermione agreed. "And thinking of Molly, we'd better be getting back to the Burrow to help. We've already been gone longer than we said; we only came over to tell you two the news and make sure you came tonight."
With that, she shepherded the three men into the Floo.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have set up a thread for replies at http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/56042-review-replies-for-returning-to-sanity/ . I will generally try to reply to posts before posting a new chapter.
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Returning to Sanity