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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
- 48
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49. Returning on the Hogwarts Express
Wednesday 1 July 1998
It was ten minutes short of eleven o'clock on the morning of the first of July. The gleaming red engine of the Hogwarts Express stood proudly at Platform Nine and Three Quarters of King's Cross Station, waiting for the magical hour of eleven when it would leave for Hogsmeade. But the usual air of bustle and bedlam was missing. The train, just two carriages long, was much shorter than usual and the station was a far cry from its usual heaving mass of people; instead of the full contingent of schoolchildren from years one through seven, there were only nineteen Eighth Year students returning today.
But of course the nineteen students had family and friends there seeing them off, so there was still a crowd on the platform. But for the first time in many years, there were no undercurrents of rivalry. No sneaky glances at enemies from Slytherin or Gryffindor. No worried looks on the faces of anxious Ravenclaws determined to keep their heads down and avoid trouble. No belligerent attitudes from Hufflepuffs just daring anyone to attack one of their own. On the contrary, there were smiles and laughter, and an obvious general feeling that the war really was over now, and they could just get on with the business of being young and being students.
Ginny Weasley was officially on the platform to see off Ron and Hermione; but in fact she had agreed to come because her boyfriend, Robin Banks, had been asked to travel with the students 'just as a show of solidarity'. The Ministry had been careful to stress that this was purely a precautionary measure and that there was no reason to expect any trouble; but Ginny was quite sure that the attack on Draco Malfoy less than a month ago was still fresh in everyone's minds, and the Ministry was desperate to avoid anything remotely like a repeat of the event.
She over at the groups of people standing happily chatting on the platform, and thought what a strange sight it made. But it did make her heart sing. Here was the first indication that maybe, just maybe, they could all get over the madness that had been visited on their society by a man obsessed with not dying. She idly wondered why there were two railroad cars standing at the platform waiting for the students to board; a single car could have accommodated all of the returning students, and the four Aurors on duty, quite handily. Why, then, were there two cars? The question was answered when, with a sudden burst of excited chatter, two groups of students emerged onto the platform, each with an accompanying chaperone: there were seven female students dressed in the school uniform of Beauxbatons; while the uniform of the two male students proclaimed proudly that they were from Durmstrang.
"Wow!" Blaise Zabini, standing near her, said as the Beauxbatons students appeared. "Looks like we have some new talent this ye-" He did not get to complete his sentence; the rather vicious dig in the ribs from Pansy Parkinson made sure of that.
Meanwhile, Hermione Granger was annoyed, perplexed, and worried all at once. She had managed, by sheer dint of force of personality, to get Ron Weasley to Platform Nine and Three Quarters by quarter to eleven o'clock. The magnitude of this achievement cannot be understated, particularly as Molly, Ginny and the twins had insisted on accompanying them; and Arthur, who could usually get them in line when he had to, was at work. This was probably the earliest that any Weasley had ever managed to get to Kings Cross Station for the Hogwarts Express, a fact which Ron was currently pointing out to her with some annoyance.
"See, Hermione," he said petulantly, "they're not here. I could have slept in another ten minutes!"
But Hermione ignored her boyfriend, as she always did when he started acting childish. If he wanted sleep, he could get it on the train, after all.
'They' were, of course, Harry and Draco. The fact that they were nowhere to be seen was the principal cause of her annoyance, perplexity and worry. As they had been away for six days, she had hoped to catch up with them before they boarded the train. Surely, she thought, they would want to be here to say farewell to parents? She rather suspected, in fact, that the chance to see Harry again was the real reason that Molly had come at all. Ron had stayed at the Grangers house last night, and Peter and Margaret had said they were quite happy to take the pair of them to Kings Cross Station; but Molly had insisted that she 'had to send her boy off for the last time'.
The train tooted to warn them that they had only five minutes before departure. Where are they? Hermione asked herself. They should be here! And the accompanying horrible thought of Has something gone wrong?
She was side-tracked from her thoughts as the warm, loving arms of her mother wrapped around her.
"Oh sweetie, I'm so going to miss you! I've only just got you back, and you're off to school again!" Margaret cooed into her ear, and for a moment Hermione forgot all the angst she felt about Harry as she accepted this rare moment of her mother loving on her so openly.
But all too soon, the moment was over. As she pulled away, her mother looked at her, disappointed to begin with, but then an understanding look dawned on her face.
"You're missing them, aren't you?" she asked, and Hermione smiled a sad smile, happy that her mother understood her and so obviously sympathised. "They're big boys, they'll be fine," she continued, the words more reassuring than the look that accompanied them.
"Thanks mum," Hermione said, as she turned and scooped up Ron's arms before the tears she felt coming had a chance to come.
Doubly dejected to be leaving her parents without Harry and Draco's company, she kissed her parents and Molly goodbye, and boarded the train.

As Hermione walked down the train corridors with Ron, the dejection she felt became more solid by the minute. She hardly saw any of the other people; she passed by all of the compartments that had people in them already, she couldn't cope with anyone but Ron just at the moment.
All of a sudden, a door flew open in front of her, interrupting their passage down the corridor. She looked into the compartment; it was, mercifully, empty, so she walked in, hefting her travelling case onto the rack, and flumped down into the seat. Ron entered behind her and started to close the door; but before he could do so, it flew open again and Pansy and Blaise came in.
"Oh!" Pansy said, obviously not sure about coming in, and Hermione could see at a glance that she too had wanted an empty compartment. No doubt the Slytherin was just as worried for Draco as Hermione was for Harry, she realised. The thought warmed her heart just a little. But it was enough.
"Come in," she said, simply and welcomingly. "This compartment seems to have chosen us."
The two Slytherins smiled and entered, while Ron sat down next to Hermione, putting his feet on the seat opposite.
"Ouch!" said a voice, and Ron's feet were pushed off quite violently.
"What the—" Ron said, drawing his wand; but his anger and surprise turned to joy as all of a sudden Harry and Draco appeared.
"Surprise!" Draco yelled with a grin as Harry gathered up the invisibility cloak and stuffed it into his backpack.
"Harry!" Hermione shouted. "You're here! What happened? Why didn't you tell us where you were? -"
"Hermione," Harry said, but the tide of questions continued unabated.
"Are you all right? Did you have a restful time?"
"Hermione," Pansy said, louder than Harry, but with no better success than he had had.
"What did the healer say? Where did you –"
"GRANGER!" Draco yelled. Hermione became silent instantly. "Sorry, but Harry's still feeling a bit fragile, so perhaps just one question at a time?"
"Fragile?" Ron asked. "Why?"
Harry looked at him warmly, grateful that his first friend had managed to ask what was probably the really important question.
"It's a bit of a long story, Ron," he began.
"Well, we've got the whole trip," Ron replied, with a smile.

Harry and Draco's absence had not gone unnoticed by the other students on the platform. Nor had the happy conviviality. But not everyone was excited by it. The three male Ravenclaw students, Terry Boot, Michael Corner, and Anthony Goldstein, were particularly unhappy by what they saw as the Slytherins sucking up to the Gryffindors. Something had to be done about it, they decided. But the three of them were not enough. They needed allies.
So as they got on the train, they had grabbed the two students from Durmstrang together with their chaperone, and found themselves an empty compartment for the six to sit and chat. The Ravenclaws decided to play a long game, and asked the three visitors all about themselves and Durmstrang; the two students seemed quite flattered with the attention and were happy to tell the Hogwarts students a great deal about themselves: Anders, the older, was from Denmark, and brilliant at Charms, while Stefan was from Bulgaria, and a whizz-kid at Potions. Michael Corner smirked inwardly; Draco Malfoy wasn't going to have it all his own way, then. Good. The Death-Eater bastard shouldn't be there at all, as far as he was concerned; he and his father should have been locked up in Azkanban.
But the three Ravenclaws could hardly avoid noticing that the chaperone seemed to keep himself very much to himself and didn't say anything to them; he was evidently happy to content himself with occasional warnings to the other boys when it seemed that they were about to say something that they weren't supposed to. Terry Boot was getting rather annoyed about this; it seemed that whenever they were making some headway, and about to get the boys to commit to an opinion about the War, the chaperone warned them off.
They had been chatting for about an hour when the door opened and Neville Longbottom stuck his head in.
"Oh, sorry," he said, "just wondering if anyone had seen Harry or Draco?"
The three Ravenclaws shook their heads, scowling. The Durmstrang chaperone, noticing this, evidently came to a decision, for he stood up and addressed them for the first time on the trip.
"Gentlemen," he said, his voice icily polite, "thank you for your hospitality. But I think we will wander around and perhaps meet some other students. Starting with this gentlemen here, …"
"Longbottom," Neville said, extending his hand. "Neville Longbottom."
"Mr Longbottom," the man replied. "Am I right in thinking that you were married recently?"
"Yes, that's right," Neville said. "To George Weasley."
"Ah, indeed!" came the response, and there was nothing to indicate what the man thought of this at all. "Well, let us see if we can find some room in a compartment and chat some more."
He turned to the Ravenclaws. "Gentlemen," he said again, nodding rather dismissively, and he left the compartment, followed by the two Durmstrang students.
As the door shut, Anthony Goldstein was seething. How could that bumbling Gryffindor idiot Longbottom possibly be a more interesting companion than them? For he definitely got the impression that the chaperone had judged the three of them, and found them wanting. It was all too obvious that if they were going to capture the Durmstrang students as allies, they would need to get the chaperone out of the picture.

It was quite exciting, Hermione thought, to see how interested and concerned Pansy and Blaise were as Harry told them about the healing, and the visit from Armand Ionescu. Of course she was interested in Harry's rendition too; but having heard the story from Draco before she was able to spend time observing the others.
She had, of course, done some more reading; but she was hampered by a lack of material. It seemed that mindscapes were not commonly studied and she had not managed to find much about them by herself; she had sent an owl to Mr Ionescu, who had given her a very polite reply explaining that of course he could not discuss the case itself with her, but the enclosed pamphlet might be helpful. She had nearly given Ron a heart attack with her shrieks of delight when the pamphlet turned out to be a two hundred page monograph by the mind-healer himself, long out of print.
But even this booklet had not been a lot of help. It had explained that entering a mindscape was more difficult than normal Legilimancy, simply because by its nature the scape was carefully controlled, and one needed permission to enter. That certainly chimed with Harry's comments about inviting the healer in as his welcome guest, and she explained this to the other five.
"But what about when I entered?" Draco asked.
"You're always welcome," Harry said.
"Sap," Draco said; but the kiss he gave Harry rather took the sting out of the insult.
"You love it," Harry replied, then returned the kiss. Rather heatedly.
"So," Pansy said, deciding to ignore the kisses, "what happened after the healer left?"
Draco and Harry gave each other rather hesitant looks, and Hermione knew at once that it was nothing good. But it was Ron who got in first.
"Let me guess," he said. "Something to do with the Dursleys?"
Harry nodded, and started to explain the events of the previous Wednesday.

It was quite fortunate that they were interrupted by the witch with the tea trolley; her happy "anything from the Honeyduke's Express?" made a strange counterpoint to the feeling inside their compartment. Harry had just finished his explanation of the confrontation with the Dursleys; Ron, and Blaise looked like they wanted to kill the bastard outright, while Hermione and Pansy were looking at Harry with such solicitous eyes that Draco felt a pang of jealousy. He grasped Harry tightly and was rewarded by his fiancé melting into him, leaning his head on his shoulder as he let out a sigh and closed his eyes.
Ten minutes later, as they were nibbling on Cauldron Cakes and Pumpkin Pasties, Draco took up the story, Harry having fallen asleep in his arms.
"So you can imagine that the first couple of days of our holiday were pretty intense," he said. "We pretty much just sat in the room as Harry came to terms with a few things. Then he seemed to shrug it off and we went out every morning for the next few days; but by late afternoon he was pretty much done."
"Do you think he's over it?" Pansy asked.
Draco looked around. Can I trust these people that much? He wondered. By the look in Hermione's eyes, she had already guessed; and that, more than anything, spurred him on. He wordlessly cast a silencing spell around his sleeping lover, just in case he woke up.
"No," he replied, bluntly. "He was really, really hurt by that fat bastard's words. I hope father didn't kill him quickly."
The girls gasped at this, but it was obvious to Draco that the other four actually agreed with him.
"Well, we're just going to have to look after him," Ron said. And Draco noticed the steely glint in his eye, and knew at once that he was glad to have the redhead as … what was he? Ally? Friend? Friend. Harry would accept nothing less.
"Agreed," he said. "As friends?"
"As friends," they all agreed. All five of them knew it had to be. That was part of the price of loving Harry: they could not stop at less than being friends.
And all five found that it was a price they were more than willing to pay.

Harry woke up about half an hour before they reached Hogwarts.
"Oh," he said, a little shocked to have fallen asleep. "Sorry, guys. Did I miss anything?"
"Not much," Ron said, with an odd goofy grin on his face.
Harry looked around the other five, and wondered. They all looked at him strangely and for a moment, he couldn't put his finger on it. It unnerved him; he could feel the tension ratcheting up in the room.
And then all of a sudden he placed it. Of course, he knew that look on Ron and Hermione; but he was not used to it on the Slytherins. Because the Slytherins had never looked at him that way. They had never really had his interests at heart before.
As he looked around, he was sure now. They all looked protective.
Protective of him.
He didn't really know how he felt about this. On one hand, he was glad that they all had his back. On the other, he was a grown wizard, an adult now; he had killed Voldemort, surely he could be allowed to look after himself?
But he closed his eyes again as he realised that, in truth, he couldn't. Not now. The Debt that Draco owed him had become a mutual thing. Because he would not, could not, accept Draco as his servant, they had become equals, tied together by much more than mere gratitude, or obligation.
Tied together by love.
He wondered if the blond fully realised that yet.
And the words of Vernon Dursley were still there in his head, taunting him. To be sure, the power of the past hurts was gone; but the memories were still there, and those cruel, heartless words had stirred up all of the inadequacies he felt. All his insecurities about not being good enough had flowed around in his head. He shuddered at the thought that he would not measure up to the expectations he felt his parents would have of him, and his own desire to have a family. He wondered how he would ever be free of them; after all, it had taken days of deep healing to rid himself of that pain before, and Vernon's complete lack of love had ripped him open again.
He felt strong arms encircling him, and realised that, without knowing it, he had started crying. He turned his head into Draco's chest and sobbed, as the blond stroked his back and whispered words of endearment into his ears.
It was all still so intense. He only hoped things would calm down a little once they reached Hogwarts.

When they arrived at the platform in Hogsmeade, they found, to their great surprise, that it was still only mid-afternoon. Of course, being July rather than September, it was going to be light for so much longer; but the journey seemed to have taken a couple of hours less than usual. They alighted onto the platform in a huge rush of chatter; and the volume must have doubled, Harry thought, when the other students realised that he and Draco were there.
One of the Beauxbatons students came up to him and gave him a dazzling smile.
"'Arry!" she said. "It is so good to see you again!"
"Gabrielle!" Harry said, recognising Fleur Delacour's sister, the witch he had rescued during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. "But, but, how can you be here? You're too young!"
Gabrielle laughed at him. "Oh, not so young," she said. "People 'ave always thought me younger than I am; I 'ave turned fifteen, but I am well ahead in my studies, so Madame Maxime said I could go." She gave him a wink. "She thought it would be good for me, and for you?"
Harry blushed. He hoped she didn't mean what he thought she just might; she was a very lovely witch, after all, and he did like her very much; but she wasn't Draco. "Excellent!" he said. "Er, do you remember Draco Malfoy? He's my fiancé, now."
If Gabrielle was at all disappointed to hear this, she hid it well, "Congratulations," she said to Harry as she gave Draco her hand to kiss. As he did, she said to him, "you have caught yourself a wonderful man, Mr Malfoy."
"Please," Draco said, "call me Draco."
Further discussion was forestalled by the arrival of the teachers.
"Ah! There you are, there you are!" chirped Flitwick. "And the train was able to make double time as the Ministry promised! Excellent! Now, quick, quick! Take the carriages up to the castle and we'll explain things in the Great Hall!"
Double time? So the trip really had been faster? It was Blaise who said what they were all thinking: "if they can get us here so fast, why don't they always do that?"
"Only two carriages?" Ron suggested.
"I bet it's to make sure that that first glimpse the first years get of the Castle is when it's all lit up at night," Hermione said, and Draco privately agreed with her; in fact the explanation was so obvious and logical that he was glad it wasn't he who had asked the question.
"Yes, yes!" Flitwick agreed. "Now, hurry! Take the carriage! Don't worry about the trunks, the house-elves will fetch them!"
Half an hour later they were all happily seated in the Great Hall, drinking tea and munching on the huge piles of cakes and sandwiches that the elves had laid out. Hermione noticed with some amusement that Harry deftly moved the cakes away from Draco, insisting that he have a sandwich first. The blond pouted; but did as he was told. Of course, it wasn't long before someone else started talking to Harry and in his moment of distraction, Draco quietly snagged two apple turnovers and a huge piece of chocolate cake.
Hermione laughed out loud at this, and Harry looked over at her.
"What's up?" he asked.
"Oh, nothing, Harry," she said. "Um, did you hear about the Quidditch while you were away?"
Quidditch? Harry thought, his eyes narrowing. Since when did Hermione care about Quidditch? He looked over at Draco just in time to see the last of the chocolate cake disappearing into his mouth.
"Ah hah!" he said, with the exultant tone of one who has caught a miscreant bang to rights in the middle of the act. "What did you promise me, Mister?"
"I am eating healthily, Harry," Draco said; but there was no mistaking the guilty whine in his voice. "I had the sandwich, and then a little cake to follow."
Harry said nothing, but arched his eyebrow in evident disbelief.
"All right," Draco said, with the air of one coming clean, "maybe it wasn't that little …"
"And what else?" Harry asked.
"Um…" said Draco, "an apple turnover."
"Oh love," Harry sighed, "what am I going to do with you?"
"I can think of a few things," Draco said, a salacious smirk forming on his face.
"Um, that's enough of that, I think," Dean Thomas broke in, and by the looks on the other faces nearby this was the general sentiment. "So what else did you to get up to while you were away?"

McGonagall called them to order.
"Now," she said, "now that we have got you all here, I want to lay down some ground rules.
"Firstly, the war is over. Done. Finished with. Got that?"
They all nodded.
"Excellent. Then you will understand when I say that we are going to treat the past as the past. There is to be no victimisation of any student. You are all here to learn. No bullying, no hexing one another. There will be zero tolerance shown on this issue. Do I make myself clear?"
There was a general chorus of "yes, Headmistress".
"Excellent," she beamed. "Secondly, we are very well aware that you are all adults, and I will expect you to behave like adults. Of course, some of you are in committed relationships –" she looked particularly at Neville, Hermione and Ron, and Draco and Harry at this point, all of whom blushed just a little — "and we accept that. But please keep your private activities private.
"Thirdly, as you are all what we have dubbed Eighth Year students, we're going to try something a bit different. You won't be in Houses any more; you will have your own table in the Hall and we expect you to sit together and get on together. Under previous Headmasters, the House system has tended to create rather a lot of rivalry; this has not always been a positive thing. We are hoping that you will work together, and by September be ready to show the new and returning students that the Houses don't have to define their lives and relationships. As such, you will be under the pastoral care of a Co-ordinator, rather than a Housemaster. As the staff are stretched rather thin following the war, I am most grateful to Professor Flitwick who has agreed to be Eighth-Year Co-ordinator as well Housemaster of Ravenclaw once full classes begin in September. We do expect you to sort out your own problems; but if you have any problems you wish to discuss with a staff member, you will find both Professor Flitwick's door and my own are always open to you. Again, is that clear?"
There was another chorus of "yes, Headmistress".
"Good. Next, during the last two months we have been approached by both Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and the Durmstrang Institute to ask if we would consider reciprocal studies programmes. We have decided that, in the interest of inter-school unity, an idea begun and championed by Headmaster Dumbledore, we would agree; so we have nine students visiting us, seven young ladies from Beauxbatons and two young gentlemen from Durmstrang, accompanied by two chaperons. I hope that our Hogwarts students have already made a point of getting to know them during the train journey?"
She looked around, and was happy to see the chaperones nod, and the Beauxbatons students smile and giggle together with the Hufflepuff girls. The Durmstrang students looked a little uncomfortable; clearly they would have to work on that, she decided.
"Very good," McGonagall continued. "We have set aside tomorrow as a day with no classes for you to settle in and make friends with the eleven visiting students. We have so few, not for want of volunteers, but because we have been constrained by the available accommodation; the Tower that will house our visiting students is also what has been called the Eighth Year Tower, and will house the nineteen returning students."
At this point, Hermione plucked up courage to interrupt the Headmistress.
"Excuse me, Headmistress McGonagall," she asked, "but does that number include Theodore Nott?"
Minerva looked at her with a neutral expression; on the one hand, she was privately pleased that someone cared about Mr Nott, but she was not about to let people expect they could interrupt her.
"No, if Mr Nott is able to join us, he will make a twentieth student," she replied. "But that will not cause any problem for our accommodation. Let me explain the setup to you.
"The Tower, which was designed by Professor Flitwick—" here the tiny Professor took a bow and tried, and failed, to look modest – "comprises a central section, with four dormitories off it. Each one has accommodation for eight students; so we can accommodate thirty-two students all together in the structure. This is, of course, considerably fewer than the House dormitories provide space for; but I think you will find that the set-up is of a more appropriate standard for adults."
Draco and Harry, well aware that McGonagall was suppressing major details – like the four dormitories actually being four Towers, and the rooms being in pairs rather than dormitory-style – smirked quietly to each other; but the other students did not notice; they were hanging on McGonagall's every word. The Headmistress herself, well versed in watching students after teaching Transfiguration for so many years, did not miss the smirk; but other than a very slight inclination of her head, did not acknowledge it. It would not do to warn the other students in advance, after all.
"Once this year is finished, we intend to continue the inter-school transfer programme, and the Tower will be used to accommodate visiting students. As such, we have decided to give it a proper name, which I am sure you will all agree is very suitable. But before I announce that, I suggest we adjourn there."
With that, she and Flitwick led them out of the Hall, up the staircases and along to the picture of Fawkes in front of the Tower. When they got there, Harry was delighted to see that Professor Dumbledore was in the picture as well, stroking his phoenix, his eyes twinkling as ever.
"Ah, Harry, my boy!" he said happily as soon as he saw the raven-head. "Though I suppose you're not really a boy any more! I hope you will do us the honour of cutting the ribbon?"
And it was only as he said this that they noticed, in front of the portrait, a ribbon set up, in purple and orange.
"Oh, I think perhaps Professor Flitwick should –" Harry said, unsure that he should perform the honour; but the diminutive professor simply smiled at him and handed him a large pair of scissors.
"Well," Harry said, deciding to bow to the inevitable with as much grace as he could muster, "then I would like Draco to help."
Dumbledore chuckled in his frame. "And that, dear Harry, is what makes you the perfect choice. Minerva?" he finished, looking at the Headmistress for her to make the requisite announcement.
"Yes indeed. Ladies and gentlemen, I am delighted to announce that this Tower, dedicated to fostering co-operation and unity in Hogwarts and the Wizarding world in general by inviting students to reside here without regard for any House associations, will henceforth be known as the Dumbledore Tower. Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy, please cut the ribbon."
And, as the watching students applauded enthusiastically, Harry and Draco cut the ribbon, which immediately burst into flames and vanished as Fawkes chirped in what certainly sounded like laughter.
"I am deeply honoured," the portrait of Headmaster Dumbledore said, "and I trust you will all work together towards these laudable aims." At this, he looked around the students, fixing some with a twinkling eye, some with a sterner gaze, before finally saying, in loud and happy tones, "enter!"
The door opened, and the students passed in.

There were gasps of astonishment as the students entered and looked around slowly. Of course, Harry and Draco knew the design of the Tower very well indeed; but the decoration! The walls were covered in a beautiful ivy motif, charmed to curl around with the breeze outside. The room was, of course, an octagon; one side had the door they had come through, three of the walls had huge ivory fireplaces in them, with the ivy curling around the pillars. The ivy rose up and around high windows set in the walls, letting in plenty of light and air. In the room itself were plenty of sofas; bookcases were set up as dividers, making little separate nooks to allow students to have some privacy within the shared common room. Around the walls were set many sconces, holding torches that would provide plenty of light once the sun had gone down. Them, and the huge chandelier that hung in the middle of the room.
"It's beautiful," came the common response, and Flitwick beamed with joy.
"Please! Try the sofas! Look around! This is your space!" he twitted.
The students milled around for ten minutes or so, doing just that: bouncing on sofas, checking out the books, and generally laughing and chatting. One of the boys from Durmstrang, used to more solid fare than the afternoon tea that had been provided, called for a house-elf, and was delighted to learn that they were happy to come and provide as much food as the students wanted; and so most of the boys sat down at once to an impromptu late lunch of cold chicken and ham in bread, washed down with butter-beer.
The remaining four walls were blank; even Harry and Draco, who knew very well what was actually in each of the corners, were fooled for a moment by the concealment charms that had been placed on the entrances to the towers. But eventually someone, one of the Beauxbatons girls Harry thought, asked "excuse-moi, but where are the dormitories?"
Flitwick giggled. "Yes! Yes! Now, you must understand that this room has been decorated for you; but your bedrooms, they have been furnished but left for you to decorate. You have the rest of the afternoon to do this; to give you time, a late dinner will be served in the Great Hall at seven o'clock. The accommodation is in four sections, eight to a section; you will find the student names on the notice boards."
"Notice boards?" the cry went up. "What notice boards?"
"These ones!" Flitwick replied, and with a wave of his wand, a board appeared on each of the four blank walls. "And here are the sections themselves!" Another wave of his wand, and the concealment charms fell, revealing the staircases to the separate towers.
A general cry of astonishment went up, and the students rushed to see where they were to stay, and raced up their tower. Harry and Draco, sitting together on a sofa in the common room, chuckled as they heard all the cries of excitement from their fellow students, only matched by the evident delight on Flitwick's face.
"Well, Professor Flitwick, I think your Tower is quite a hit," the headmistress said with a smile. "I think we can leave them all to it, don't you?"
"Yes! Yes!" Flitwick replied. He turned to Harry and Draco, the only students now left in the common room. "Thank you two gentlemen again for your wonderful help! And please, please, remember that my door is always open to you. In fact, there are some matters I need to discuss with you two in particular; would you come to my chambers at ten o'clock tomorrow?"
The two promised that they would.
"Excellent!" Flitwick said. "Then I shall leave you to decorate your room."
And with that, the Eighth Year Co-ordinator and the Headmistress left the room.

"Sit with me," Harry implored as Draco got up to go up to their room.
Draco looked down at his fiancé, his eyes filled with concern.
"Are you alright?" he asked, as he sat back down next to the raven-haired man.
"Yeah," Harry said. "It's just … It's been a bit much."
"All those people?" Draco asked.
Harry nodded. Draco was not surprised; he had seen how they had all wanted to touch him, to chat to him, and it didn't surprise him at all that this was freaking Harry out. After all, they had spent the last weeks in the company of very few people; even Draco was finding the sudden immersion into their new cohort quite hard to deal with, and he hadn't had serious sessions of healing, or had his heart ripped to shreds by a heartless bastard of a …
Draco took a deep breath. However much he hated Vernon Dursley, Harry needed him to be present now. He needed to be able to depend on his lover. So Draco swallowed the hatred, and caressed Harry gently, rubbing his back and feeling his stress decrease.
It was a few minutes later that he asked, "ready?" and Harry nodded. He got up slowly, and pulled Harry up too, and turned to the stairs. Though, when it came to it, Draco found that he had his own reasons for being reluctant to go up to their room …

"Can I open my eyes now, Dragon?" Harry asked.
"One more step," Draco replied, and Harry shuffled forward a little. "That's it," Draco said encouragingly. "OK, you can open them now."
Harry did not fail to note the little hint of tension in Draco's voice as he said it. What was his lover afraid of, he wondered. Just what had he done to their room?
Harry opened his eyes. There was a golden stripe painted horizontally around the room at about chest height. Below, the walls were painted a beautiful deep green; above, a silvery grey that faded almost to white at the top. He recognised from their trip to Paris that the furniture was all French antiques; as he looked closer he realised that Draco had picked out every piece he had particularly commented on, and managed to choose a set that worked together harmoniously.
He turned around the room, looking at every item, drinking it all in.
In silence.
Harry could feel the tension building in Draco; but he honestly could not find words to describe how he felt about the room.
It was, quite simply, stunning. There wasn't a single detail about it that he would change.
He turned to Draco and, deciding that actions speak louder than words, gathered him into a rib-crushing hug as he kissed the breath out of him, desperately, trying to make the kiss say what he did not trust his voice to.
Eventually they broke apart, needing air.
Draco still looked worried.
"Please," he said, "say something. Is it alright?"
Harry didn't quite trust himself; but he knew Draco needed to hear, so he forced out words that came whispered through the lump in his throat.
"No. It's perfect."
And later that night, after they had eaten with the other students, and begged off staying up late due to having traveled all day, they lay together cuddling in the huge bed that Draco had installed, and Harry showed Draco just how much he loved the room.
They had not had full-on sex since the weekend of Draco's birthday; Draco was still a bit apprehensive about having Harry inside him, and Harry would not press the issue; and of course they had had rather a lot of things going on since then, what with attacks from Death Eaters and Harry's sickness, coma and visits from healers; even their time away had been more about gentle healing and relaxing and caressing than full-on sex. But tonight, being able to relax in the Castle, in their own room, Harry felt it was time; so he invited Draco to make love to him.
"Are you sure?" the blond asked, his eyes filled with concern.
"Absolutely," Harry assured him, eyes sparkling with lust as he pulled his lover in to a needy embrace which quickly became a steamy kiss.
It was not long before Draco impatiently spelled their clothes off, and they made love together; and it was wild and furious as the air crackled with the magic they released together and the bond between them sang with a fierce joy as their bodies united in this most intimate of acts. And as they came together, a little of the tension of the day eased away from them. Harry was still worried about children; Draco was still worried about the Debt; but somehow, they both knew, they would work things out.
Together.

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/ . Please indicate which chapter you are reading, as aff doesn't make that clear. I will generally try to reply to posts before posting a new chapter.
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Returning to Sanity