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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
- 76
- 77
- 78
77 Returns For Effort
Sunday 20 September
Harry dreamed …
"TROLL! TROLL IN THE DUNGEONS!
"I thought you ought to know …"
As he watched on helplessly, the body of Professor Quirrell slumped to the floor, then seemed to disintegrate as black smoke came billowing out of him, curling around Harry as the scene changed to the room where he had found the Philosopher's Stone in the Mirror of Erised all those years ago. Once again he saw Quirrell's death agony as he burned at Harry's touch, and the smoke became the smoke from the burning, and billowed out in the shape of arms reaching out to Harry.
For a moment, the sheer terror of the memory overtook him, and he began to scream in pain as the smoke touched him; then, abruptly, the whole scene vanished from his view, replaced by ribbons of silver wrapping themselves around him, and Harry drifted back into peaceful, comforted, undisturbed sleep, never seeing the form of Professor Quirrell seeming to rise from the floor and watch him with kindly eyes …

Harry woke early the next morning to find himself wrapped in a lovely warm snuggly Draco Malfoy. And the covers of his bed at the Burrow as well; for they had spent the night in their room at the Burrow so as not to have to travel anywhere after the party. He lay there for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth of his sleeping fiancé, once more feeling the delicious sensation of being loved it gave him every time he woke up in Draco's arms.
There was something niggling him; some half-memory in the back of his mind. A picture of Hogwarts … And then he remembered: no doubt prompted by the troll firework, he had dreamt of Quirrell, and he shivered at the memory. But, unlike his earlier nightmares, he had not woken up, nor did he feel any residual pain or fear. Well, that was good; proof that he really was healing, if not healed.
Eventually, he decided that he really did have to get up, and that he should do so before he desperately needed to; so carefully, gently, he extracted himself from his own personal octopus and slid out of the bed, taking care to leave Draco wrapped in the covers so as not to wake him. He visited the en-suite and had a quick shower and got dressed before wandering out. He rather felt he could smell bacon; and, if he was not mistaken, there were also the happy sounds made by a small baby boy who would no doubt be pleased to see him.
As he entered the front room, he found that he was right: Teddy and Miriam, who had evidently stayed the night as well, were gurgling happily together. Harry wasn't entirely surprised to see that they were being supervised by Kreacher; the crotchety old house-elf seemed to have taken quite a shine to the two babies.
"Ry! Ry!" the little metamorphmagus shouted as soon as he caught sight of his godfather.
"Good morning Teddy Bear!" Harry said as he scooped up the little boy and proceeded to kiss him as he shrieked with delight at the attention.
"Good morning, Harry, dear," Molly Weasley said with an indulgent smile as she watched from the kitchen as he blew raspberries on his godson's bare belly. "You're up early. Are you ready for some breakfast?"
Harry set Teddy back down next to Miriam and wandered into the kitchen, to find mountains of bacon and eggs and toast obviously prepared ready for the onslaught of the Weasley horde.
"Actually," Harry said, "do you mind if I take Draco breakfast in bed?"
Molly smiled at him. "What a lovely idea!" she replied. "Of course I don't mind!"

Draco woke early – for him – on Sunday morning to find that Harry was not there. He had a moment of confusion as he thought something had happened in the night but couldn't quite remember it; and also, of course, he was in an unusual bed; and then he remembered that of course they had stayed at the Burrow. He lay in bed and stared at the canopy above him. The Prewitt bed that Molly had given them really was very lovely, he thought, and he was glad that Harry had not complained about the dark green hangings that Draco had chosen for it.
He was just thinking about getting up when the door opened, and the delicious smell of bacon and eggs wafted in as a heavily-laden tray floated through the door and across the bed to him.
"I hope you're hungry, love!" Harry said as he came in, following an equally full tray. "Molly thinks we don't eat enough and insisted I take enough for four!"
Draco chuckled. It was, he thought, really very sweet that the Weasley matriarch was being so maternal about a Malfoy, as he attacked his breakfast with gusto.

After breakfast, Draco Floo-called his mother to check if they were needed for anything.
"Of course not, dear," she replied. "You just enjoy yourself. Though I imagine there is plenty of cleaning up to do there; will we see you for dinner?"
Draco happily agreed; and then it was all hands on deck to clean up after the party. Happily, there were plenty of helpers: Bill and Fleur turned up from Shell Cottage; Fred and George had shut the shop for the morning, and they, Neville and Angelina were all there; Robin and Ginny Flooed in as he was not on duty and she only had Quidditch practice in the afternoon; so Ron, Hermione, Draco and Harry, who had all stayed the night, had no qualms ordering Andy, Peter and Margaret Granger and Molly and Arthur to sit down and let the younger generation sort things out. By morning tea time the house was back to rights and an impromptu game of four-a-side Quidditch started up, which lasted until Molly yelled at them all to come and get their lunch.
Over lunch, which Harry found quite a challenge as Teddy insisted on sitting on his lap the whole time, conversation naturally turned to what they were going to be doing for the next week.
"What," Hermione asked archly, "you mean, apart from getting ready to get married?"
"Oh!" Harry said, flustered. "Erm – what do we have to do for that? There must be a million things we have to organise!"
"You stop that fretting, young man, and eat your lunch," Molly said, passing him a dish of potato bake and glaring at him until he had taken what she regarded as a reasonable sized portion. It was a good thing that the dish had cooled somewhat while on the table, because Teddy immediately dug his fingers into it and had great fun squishing the creamy potatoes.
"Everything is well in hand, Harry," Margaret continued while Molly supervised the potato distribution. "Narcissa has been amazingly organised and Molly and I seem to have hardly done anything. The Pavilion is all set up ready to go, and all the decorations for the Manor are already prepared. We're all going to be there on Friday to set things up. So really, you can just relax."
Seeing that Harry still looked a bit unsure about this, Draco added, "when I spoke to mother this morning, she told me she didn't need any help. Oh, and we're invited for dinner."
"Lovely," Harry replied. "No, Teddy, don't get potato in your hair, love."

When the boys got to the Manor at about five o'clock, they found that Lucius and Narcissa had another visitor.
"Dudders!" Harry said excitedly as he saw his cousin, and gave him a big hug.
Dudley looked rather sheepish; it was still astonishing to him that Harry wanted anything to do with him, and the fact that he was so warmly welcomed not only by his cousin but by the whole family took his breath away. Indeed, he was at the Manor because Lucius and Narcissa had prevailed upon him to stay after Hermione's party.
"Thanks, Harry," he said quietly as Harry let go of him.
"You all right, Big D?" Harry asked, concerned; Dudley was not often quiet, in his experience.
"Yeah," Dudley replied, smiling at the nickname. Not so big nowadays, though, he thought. "It's just … Look, I was talking to Draco's mum last night about how it's hard to get any study done 'cos everyone's still partying after the Orientation Week we had and the Hall is full of noise; so she just told me to come here, and Lucius gave me a little office I've been working in today and …"
Here Dudley took a deep breath as emotion threatened to overwhelm him; then continued, "I still feel like I treated you like crap all your life, and now I'm being given so much kindness, it's just … when is the other shoe going to drop, I guess?"
"Yeah, I understand," Harry said. "But you're family now."
And that was that. Dudley felt it would be a bit churlish to point out that they had been family all along. After all, while he, Petunia and Vernon had technically been family to Harry for all those years, they certainly hadn't treated him as such. No, Harry was right: they were family now, but hadn't really been before. The complete forgiveness he received from Harry and the general warmth he felt from Harry and all the Malfoys had really changed his whole perspective on what family meant. They didn't say much more; there wasn't really anything else to be said.

Over a very pleasant dinner, the conversation naturally turned to the upcoming nuptials.
"So Harry," Dudley asked, a little apprehensively, "is there anything I need to do for your wedding? You still want me to be best man, right?"
"Of course I do," Harry replied. "And no, not really; we will be having a run through on Friday afternoon if you can make it."
"Yeah, that's fine," Dudley replied. "Um, do you want me to organise a stag night?"
Lucius looked at him interestedly. "A stag night, Dudley? What exactly is that?"
Dudley went rather red at the prospect of explaining the concept of a stag night to the groom's future father-in-law.
"Um, in our world it's a party that you have before the wedding to celebrate the groom's last few days of being single."
"What a charming custom," Lucius said. "You must tell me more."
And so Dudley, calming down at the easy acceptance he received from Lucius, started explaining stag nights he had heard of, and even one that he had been on a year ago, for the elder brother of one of his classmates at Smeltings, when they had had to sneak out and almost got caught sneaking back in by a prefect.
After dinner, Kreacher apparated Dudley back to Swansea, and Harry and Draco decided to spend the night at the Manor. As they got ready for bed, Draco noticed that Harry was grinning like a loon, and so asked about it.
"Oh," Harry replied, "it's just … Draco, does it occur to you how bizarre this all is?"
"Bizarre?" Draco asked, looking a bit lost.
"Yeah," Harry continued. "I mean, think about us at dinner: we had pureblood you, engaged to me, a half-blood raised by Muggles, and my Muggle cousin; and your father, the uber-pureblood, didn't bat an eyelid. If someone said a year ago this would happen…"
"… I'd have thought they were out of their mind," Draco continued. "You're right."
"Not to mention that Kreacher has really come out of his shell," Harry replied, as he got into bed. "He seems really taken with both Teddy and Dudley."
"I think he's got back into the groove of having a decent master to serve," Draco replied, getting into bed himself and scooting over to his lover. Harry realised that of course Draco would understand house elves very well, having been brought up with them. "House elves go all funny if they haven't got anything to do, and of course he had years with just Aunt Berga's portrait, followed by Sirius, who was horrible to him, by all accounts."
"He certainly was," Harry replied, remembering his godfather's interactions with the little elf. "Sirius hated him, and the feeling was mutual. But Hermione has this mantra about 'kindness and understanding' that we try to stick to."
"I think you do very well," Draco replied. "And the fact that you're on the winning side, and keeping him in service, counts for a lot. House-elves like to feel that they are serving great, and good, masters, and I can see that Kreacher really thinks so. He's accepted you as the Black heir. And now that Dudley is a Potter, Kreacher's going to see him as part of the Black family too; and your love for Teddy has obviously overcome the fact that Andromeda was disinherited."
"Hmm," said Harry, a thought occurring to him. "Can I undisinherit her?"
Draco snorted at Harry's made-up word. "You can reinstate her to the family, yes," he replied. "I'm not sure what effect it would have, other than symbolic, but you could discuss it with her."
"Alright," said Harry, yawning as he settled down to go to sleep. "Goodnight, Draco."
"Goodnight, Harry," the blond replied, and they lay together quietly for a few moments.
"Oh, another thing," Harry said, all of a sudden, as a thought flashed through his head. "When did your father get his office in London? I mean, he always hated Muggles?"
"I believe that was just after we got together," Draco replied, after he spent a few seconds thinking about just how much to share, and deciding that he might as well get it all out there. "He was being approached by the Ministry to help with reconstruction; and I think he got wind of the Dursleys about the same time, so decided to go after them. So really, his actions weren't entirely altruistic. Don't tell him I said that."
Harry chuckled. "Of course not. To both statements. Sleep well"
And this time they did indeed sleep.

Monday 21 September
Once more, Harry dreamed.
Again, there was black smoke, curling around, billowing huge, without any real shape until it suddenly became a familiar and horrible form – the basilisk that he had faced in his second year at Hogwarts.
He blinked and looked around. He was inside a large cavern; as he watched, it took form slowly until it was recognisably the Chamber of Secrets. He could see the hideous statue of Salazar Slytherin, and the prostrate form that he knew must be Ginny Weasley; and there, finally taking shape, was Tom Marvolo Riddle.
"I'm not afraid of you," Harry heard himself saying to the other boy. "Or of your basilisk. You're only illusions."
"Do you really think so, Harry?" the boy answered.
And then the strangest thing happened. As he watched, both the boy and the basilisk were bound up in ribbons of light; but unlike before these were red ribbons, not silver.
"It's alright, Harry," he heard a voice say, and even as he listened, both Tom and the huge snake started to disappear. But there was something odd about it. He couldn't quite put his finger on it; but somehow it just felt different to all of his other nightmares.
And then the whole scene disappeared in a burst of silver light, and he knew no more.

Once again, Harry woke to find Draco wrapped around him. This time, there was no Teddy Lupin to distract him, so he happily remained in bed, cuddling his fiancé who was showing no sign of getting up any time soon.
"Mmm," Draco said, enjoying the feel of Harry cuddling him and stroking his hair. "That's nice."
"Morning, love," Harry said softly. "How did you sleep?"
"OK," he replied. "Except …"
His brow furrowed, and he looked up at Harry concernedly.
"There was a moment in the night …" he began, then stopped, seeing a strange expression on Harry's face.
"Harry, did you have another nightmare last night?"
"Er, yeah," his Raven replied.
"And you had one the night before, didn't you?"
"Er, yeah," Harry said again, looking decidedly sheepish.
It was clear to Draco that Harry knew he should have talked about it, so there was no point in scolding him. Instead, Draco used his softest, most encouraging tone, and asked, "tell me about them?"
Harry, grateful not to be chewed out though he deserved it, explained, as carefully as he could, the two nightmares. And naturally Draco asked him for all the context, so he explained all about the tasks they had had to go through in first year to get to the Philosopher's Stone; and the business of Slytherin's heir and dealing with the basilisk in second year. By the time he had finished, Draco was looking amazed.
"Goodness," the blond said when it was all explained, "you really had a much more exciting time than we realised!"
"Yeah," Harry replied, "because dealing with trolls and madmen in turbans and sixty foot snakes and madmen in diaries is really exciting."
"Point," Draco acknowledged. "Anyway, is there a pattern here? You've just had two nightmares about Voldemort, right?"
"Right," said Harry, cottoning on. "You think that's going to continue?"
"Seems like a possibility," Draco replied. "But I guess there's not much we can do about it; and it doesn't seem to be particularly bothering you, so maybe we'll just expect – what would be next?"
Harry shuddered. "The next time I saw Voldemort was in the graveyard at Little Hangleton, after the Triwizard Tournament."
Draco looked aghast. "That was real?"
"Yeah," Harry said, and, close to tears, went on to discuss the death of Cedric Diggory, and duel that he and Voldemort had had.
At about nine o'clock, Dippy popped in, to find the two boys still lounging around in bed, Draco soothing a still emotional Harry..
"Yes, Dippy?" Harry asked, and was amused to see that the poor creature was beside herself with joy that he had remembered her name.
"Mistress Narcissa is asking if the two young Masters is wanting breakfast?"
"Hmm?" Draco said, suddenly coming awake and sitting up. "Of course we want breakfast! Kippers, please." And with that, the Malfoy heir lay down again.
Dippy looked a lot less happy with this answer.
"Mistress is insisting that the young Masters is to be eating in the garden with the Master and the Mistress!" she said forlornly.
"Oh," Draco groaned, sitting up again. "really? Do we have to?" The little elf shook her head violently, so he went on, "all right, Dippy, tell her we'll be there in half an hour."
"Yes, Master Draco!" Dippy replied, evidently relieved to be going back with such news as she vanished with a pop.
"Bother!" Draco said as soon as the elf had left. "I'm sorry, Mother does get these bees in her bonnet every now and then about doing things in the proper pure-blood way."
"It's all right, Dragon; at least it's outside and not in the formal dining room," Harry replied.
"That's the spirit!" Draco said with a chuckle.. "Look on the not-quite-so-dull-side."

Over breakfast, Narcissa naturally asked how they had slept; and Harry explained that he had had the nightmare, at which both older Malfoys looked concerned.
"These colours are very interesting," Lucius said. "You still think the silver is Draco?"
"Yes," Harry said, "but the red is anyone's guess. There's something familiar about it, I'm sure; but I can't place it."
"And you think it's important?" Narcissa asked.
"Sure of it," Harry replied. "I believe it's something to do with the mordant."
"Remind me what that is, again?" Narcissa asked.
"Oh," Harry said, "well, you remember that we have an endurant Haussmann shield?"
Narcissa nodded. "Meaning it's permanent, right?"
"That's right, as opposed to a one-time thing. Well, everything we could find in the literature says that it needs a third agent to be endurant; and we're pretty sure that the red light symbolises that agent."
"Do you think it's a living person?" Narcissa asked.
"Everything we could find in books talked about a third living person," Harry replied. "I did wonder at one stage if it might be Ron Weasley. But I don't think so, really. No, I get the feeling that it's got something to do with all that stuff from Bill's map – you know, the Sphere of Intangible Presence and so on. I think it's someone from there."
"I agree," Draco said. "I've been wondering if it's Severus. After all, he was my godfather; and he was always concerned for you, even if he had a funny way of showing it."
"It's possible, I suppose," Harry replied slowly.
"But not if it has to be a third living person," Lucius chimed in. "Isn't all this stuff about the Spheres a bit fanciful? Severus is dead and buried."
"Yes, but Fred was dead, too," Draco replied crisply.
"That," Harry said, "is a good point. I'm pretty sure the Resurrection Stone had something to do with that …" he continued, trailing off into his own thoughts.
"Is that the object you put in your pocket when were all together at Hogwarts just after the war?" Narcissa asked.
"Oh!" Harry said. "You noticed! Um, yes, it was. But please don't tell anyone I've got it. It's really dangerous. Maybe I should get rid of it. I dropped it once before, but the Elder wand summoned it back to me when I was restoring Draco's magic …"
Again Harry's voice petered out, this time more from embarrassment than wistful memory, Draco suspected; but Lucius saved him from needing to think of something to say.
"I would say, Harry," the older man broke in gently, "that in that case you should keep it. After all, this way you know where it is, and that no-one else can misuse it."
"That's true," Harry agreed, brightening a little.
"Now," Narcissa said briskly, deciding that a change of subject was in order, "do you boys have any thoughts on how you're going to spend this week?"
"Um, not really," Harry replied. "Do you need us to help out with the preparations?"
"No, not at all," Narcissa replied, waving her hand to indicate that this would be no trouble at all. "The only thing that you need to do before Friday is to have a fitting for your robes; we have arranged an appointment with Twilfitt and Tattings at eleven this morning. But after that you might want to make yourselves scarce until Friday afternoon's rehearsal so you don't see things and spoil the surprise."
"Well, perhaps, in that case, we should spend the rest of the week at Grimmauld Place?" Draco suggested.
"Yeah," Harry replied with a grin. "We could just hang around and invite friends around and just relax. Oh, and the twins told us to call round at the shop whenever we want. Maybe we could go there after the fitting."
"Do you really think that's a good idea?" Draco asked, remembering the tale his mother had told him about Lucius's foray into the shop.
"I think that would do you the world of good," Narcissa replied, smirking at her husband.
Lucius just groaned. Blue hair had been quite a sacrifice of dignity. But the twins would keep …

To Harry's great surprise, the fitting took an hour and a half. How one could waste ninety minutes checking that robes fit was beyond him; surely it was a simple measure-and-charm and that was that. Even though all four of them were there, surely it couldn't take that long?
But no. The assistants at Twilfitt and Tattings had taken half an hour discussing the exact shades of silver and gold to be used in their robes, never mind minor details like the stitching or cut or whether the damn things actually fit. Harry knew that Draco and Ron would wear silver, and he and Hermione gold; and he got that this was because the Malfoys and the Weasleys were part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, the families that were supposed to be "truly pure-blood" when the Pure-Blood Directory had been published sixty years ago. Frankly, Harry couldn't have given a drachma of dragon's dung for such nonsense, but it was important to the Wizarding World, so he went along with it.
But that didn't stop him being annoyed at the fussiness of the staff. They tried six different robes on him, and eyed him critically while holding up fourteen different swatches of gold, and twenty-seven swatches of silver, explaining that not only did his robe have to suit him, and Draco's him, but also the two robes had to "complement each other in a beautiful romantic harmony of passionate oneness". And then, of course, the two silver robes and the two gold robes had to 'chime together to create a positive effect where each states its own note but does not dominate over the other, so that each couple is a unit, complete to itself, but offset against the other couple in a true statement of complementarity'.
Tripe, Harry thought; but decided he would probably get out faster if he didn't argue, so buttoned his lip and pretended to be enjoying the experience.
And when they had finished, he had a sneaking suspicion that the robe he ended up with was the first robe that he had tried on …
"Well, wasn't that fun," Draco said, breaking into Harry's reverie. Harry was about to make a cutting comment when he realised that the blond was actually serious.
"Er, yeah," he said. "Let's go to the twins' shop."
Draco sighed. But it was fair enough, he supposed; Harry had put up with the fitting – he was under no illusions that Harry had in any way enjoyed it, despite the brave face he had put on it – so it was only right that they should now do something that he would enjoy.
Accordingly, he entered the shop, rather fearful of the reception – the twins were, after all, the twins. And his fear was not entirely unjustified; the moment he walked in, Neville squirted him with a water pistol. Except it wasn't water; it was, in fact, a very cunningly charmed potion that made his robed glow all sorts of bright colours for about five minutes.
"Hey!" he shouted, then realised that the water had not actually done any damage. He watched as the colours changed from deep lilac through purple to royal blue. "That's actually really pretty!"
"Thank you!" Neville said. "George and I have been working on it for months; this is the first batch that really worked properly."
"Hang on," Draco said, "you mean I'm your test kneazle?"
"Something like that," George replied, then ducked just in time to avoid the stinging hex Draco threw his way.
"Draco, lighten up!" Harry said, and Draco rounded on him.
"Shush, you," he said, "or …" But there really wasn't any credible threat he could make to Harry, and it sort of fell to the ground.
"Come on," Fred said, stepping in before the silence got awkward, "let's go and have lunch."

In the event it was a pleasant lunch and happy afternoon. The twins even gave Draco one of their prototype pistols, with strict instructions to use it on Lucius. Draco really wasn't sure that that was wise; and indeed, a subtle plan formed itself in his head. He kept quiet though; no, he would work with his father, not against him. This could work well, he decided.
At five o'clock, Harry returned to Twilfitt and Tattings to find that, by arrangement, Kreacher had brought Dudley there; as Harry's best man, he needed to have a fitting too. The rest of the bridal party was having a fitting in the morning; but Dudley was busy for most of the week, and he couldn't just disappear to London for an hour or two, his friends would never believe that, so he had left Swansea at four, telling them that the place he was going to would do a late-night fitting and he would drive back for Tuesday's lectures. They thought he was mad; but in fact the plan was to have the fitting; then dine together at Grimmauld Place, after which Dudley would stay the night and Kreacher could get him back to the little lay-by where Dudley had left his little car, protected by a Notice Me Not charm that Harry had spelled a car-cover with, by about seven thirty, which would give him ample time to return to Hall and prepare for lectures.
Mercifully, Dudley's fitting only took half an hour; but even so, by the time Harry Apparated Dudley back to Grimmauld Place, they found quite a crowd had gathered.
"What's the plan?" Harry asked as they entered through the front door.
"Harry!" Draco yelled above the noise. "I thought we'd have some people over for dinner."
Harry grinned.
"Fantastic," he said.

Robin Banks was having a rather busy Monday.
Over Sunday, Cornelius Fudge had been examined by the healers at St Mungo's. He was in for a long ride back, by the sound of things; he was quite delirious and clearly never going to work again, even if he did get out of the Janus Thickey ward, which was very unlikely, from what he could tell from the reports.
Robin sighed. He had no particular love for Fudge; but the man had been Minister once, he deserved a little respect. These French thugs had carved him up good and proper. Not that there was any physical evidence; in some ways, that made it worse. Physical injuries spoke for themselves; if you had a limp, or a wheelchair, it was obvious that there was something wrong with you, and people generally accommodated it. Mental injuries, however, tended to be fobbed off, simply because people couldn't see them.
Anyway, Cornelius Fudge wasn't his problem, except that he did need to piece together exactly what had happened with Eva Thillin. Padma Patil's evidence had given them a fairly good picture, of course; but they had to flesh this out as best they could. Accordingly, he had taken a short trip to Marseille to see if there was anything that they could find there.
The local Wizarding authorities had been the very soul of helpfulness – the fact that he spoke decent French counted for quite a lot of that, he guessed – but there wasn't much they could do. 'La Chétive Pécore' was well known to them; but the owner, Gaston Gaspard, had aways stayed just the right side of the law. No-one had seen Fudge while he was allegedly here; or at least, no-one would admit to it; and the general feeling of the French authorities was that Thillin had probably disappeared into the French Underworld and would probably never trouble Britain again.
Internal investigations at the Ministry were more helpful. It turned out that Fudge, incomprehensibly, had kept the letters he had received from Eva, as well as copies of his own; and it was very clear from the trail of correspondence that she had well and truly pulled the wool over his eyes.
By the end of a long day, Robin had a report ready to give to the Minister on Tuesday. He was just about to go home when Ginny Floo-called him.
"Up for playing tonight?" she said, once the initial greetings were done. "Harry and Draco are having open house. We're invited for dinner and cards."
"That could be fun," Robin replied. He was tired; but an evening of mindless frivolity would probably do him the world of good.
"Excellent!" Ginny said. "I'll meet you at Grimmauld Place in ten, then?"

Tuesday 22 September
Robin was rather grateful that his meeting with the Minister was not until ten o'clock in the morning; it had been a very enjoyable evening, to be sure, but he had drunk perhaps just a bit more than was wise.
"Good morning," Kingsley said with a big grin. "Big night last night?"
Robin winced with a slight grin of his own. "Does it show?"
Kingsley chuckled. "Only a little," he answered. "Right, what have you got for me?"
Robin walked Kingsley through his findings from the day before, explaining that the French end hadn't done a lot of good but the letters from Fudge were pretty conclusive.
"Hmm," Kingsley said thoughtfully. Then he seemed to make an abrupt decision. "No, actually, this is good. You've done an excellent job with our French colleagues by the way, I've had an owl this morning praising you to the skies, so I wouldn't worry about that. No, they'll whinge about our not looking after their student properly, and we'll point out that we found out exactly what is going on and they are the ones who dropped the ball. And the icing on the cake is that we can pension Fudge off honorably. The man was fast becoming a liability – witness the letters he kept, when anyone with sense would have at least hidden them.
"So good job. Many thanks, Robin," the Minister finished, shaking the Auror by the hand, and Robin found himself back at his desk within minutes. And to top off the good news, he found a letter waiting for him from his father, congratulating him for 'his sensitive handling of the delicate relationship we enjoy with our colleagues from France', which was about as close as the new Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation was going to get in public to calling the French 'recalcitrant, prickly bastards', which Robin knew quite well was his father's private opinion.

"So, Blaise, what are you 'oping to do once you 'ave your NEWTs?" Madame Delacour asked him, her voice calm and conversational.
But the Italian was not fooled. He and Angelique had been at the party the previous evening, and he had naturally escorted her home, and been invited to stay the night; which was quite an honour, and statement of acceptance, and he was very glad he had been careful not to drink very much.
And now the woman he very much hoped might be his future mother-in-law was asking him what he wanted to do with his life; it was hardly an innocent question.
He gave Madame his most charming smile.
"Well, Madame," he said, affecting a calmness he did not feel, "I have rather set my hopes on becoming a healer."
"Oh la la!" the lady replied, her tone amused. "That will be even more study! Will you ever get a proper job, or always be the student?"
It could have been a rather pointed question, but it was asked with such grace, and such a smile, that he knew he was really being teased.
"Oh, healers start with hands-on training at St Mungo's, as well as theory classes," he replied gently.
"Cousin Astrid is studying to be a healer," Angelique's sister Martine added in. "We must have her round so you can meet her."
"Indeed we must!" Madame Delacour replied, clapping her hands. "Blaise, can we impose on you to stay for dinner, and we shall arrange that she come too?"
"Thank you, that would be delightful," Blaise replied.
"And, maman, you needn't think you are going to buttonhole the poor man all day," Angelique added with spirit. "We shall take him out and show him Paris!"
"Ah, the young, so 'eartless," Madame replied, with a sigh; but she only made her daughters laugh and kiss her on the cheek.
"Au revoir, maman," the two sisters said together as they dragged Blaise off with them. "We shall return at five o'clock."
"Bien!" their mother replied. "Be good!"
"We won't!" they replied as they ran off.

The exam results arrived on Thursday. As they had agreed before they left Hogwarts, the nine students who had been examined all brought their examination result letters, unopened, to Grimmauld Place where they were all going to open them together. Harry made sure that there was butterbeer, champagne, wine, and fire-whiskey, as well as plenty of food: people were going to want to either celebrate their success or commiserate their lack of it, and either way, he was sure, would involve alcohol of some kind.
It was eleven o'clock by the time all nine students arrived. The owls bearing their results had all arrived at breakfast time, and very few of them had been able to finish their breakfasts once they had. Hermione was the worst; by the time everyone arrived, she was shaking like a leaf. The other students decided by an unspoken agreement to take pity on her, and demanded she opened hers first.
"All right," she said, her voice trembling as she took up one of the paper knives that Draco had thoughtfully provided and slit the envelope open. "Here goes!"
She drew out two pieces of parchment. The first was a letter from the examining board, and she laid it aside for a moment while she picked up the parchment detailing her results.
She screwed up her eyes; she could hardly bear to look.
"What if I failed?" she wailed. "I'm sure my Charms exam did not go well..."
"Just look, love," Ron said, managing by a miracle to keep his voice from sounding irritated. And she did, staring at her grades.
Straight 'Outstandings'.
She breathed a sigh of relief, not quite sure she believed it, but a huge grin broke out on her face nonetheless as she passed her grades to Ron and picked up the letter.
"Straight O's," Ron announced. "As if you'd get anything less! What does the letter say?"
"Um," Hermione said, as she finished scanning it, "oh, it's really rather nice. Congratulations and all that. Hang on!" she said, suddenly getting very excited, "it's a job offer! Shall I read it out?"
"Yes please!" they all agreed; it would give them a few more minutes before they had to open their own results, after all.
Dear Miss Granger, she read,
I write to congratulate you on your results in the special Aptitude tests that were held during the week of the fourteenth to the eighteenth of September. You have managed to achieve a grade of 'Outstanding' in all assessed subjects, for which the Board extends its warmest congratulations.
The Board was astonished by the quality of papers presented. Despite the somewhat patchy education that your cohort has received as a consequence of the Second Wizarding War, all examinees were able to satisfy the examiners as to their competence in all subjects examined.
As you were previously advised, these examinations are designed to provide a moderated indication of your level of achievement in comparison to that required for N.E.W.T.s. As such, your straight 'Outstandings' have been converted directly to N.E.W.T. grades without any requirement for further examination.
In order to complete your education at Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft, it remains only for you to submit your Muggle Studies assignment. This should be presented for assessment not later than the eighteenth of December.
Once your assessment is complete, the Minister has asked me to offer you a position as Junior Undersecretary to the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Please find attached details of the position, and a pro forma acceptance letter for you to complete.
Yours faithfully,
Matilda Hopkirk,
For Madam Professor Griselda Marchbanks, CDMG, APMO, fdBB,

Governor,

Wizarding Examination Authority
Cc: Headmistress Professor Minerva McGonagall

Attachments: Position Description, Junior Undersecretary, DRCMC; Reply pro forma.
"Hang on," Ron said as Hermione started reading the job description. "Matilda Hopkirk? Wasn't she the woman you were polyjuiced as, Hermione, when we broke into the Ministry?"
"No," Harry replied. "That was Mafalda Hopkirk; I'm not likely to forget her, she was the one who sent me the letter about underage magic."
"Wait, what was that?" Lisa Turpin asked. "I remember there was some story about you being tried? And polyjuiced? Really?"
"Yeah," Harry answered. "It was in the summer before we had the joy that was Dolores Umbridge." And so saying, he went on to detail the story of the Dementor attack and his subsequent trial and acquittal. When he had finished, Hermione jumped in and explained about their breaking into the Ministry; though to Harry's relief, she described the Horcrux simply as "a Dark artefact we needed to recover", and this vague explanation seemed to go unchallenged.
"Fascinating," Mandy Brocklehurst, who had hung on every word, said when he had finished. "Anyway, not the same woman, but presumably a relative."
"Sister, I think," Draco said. "I seem to remember Father saying something about it at one point."
"Anyway, that's great and all; but who's next?" Ron asked.
"You, for asking," Blaise said cheekily; and, as the others all agreed, Ron opened his envelope to find that his grades, while nowhere near as spectacular as Hermione's, were respectable enough: he had an Outstanding grade in both Defence and Charms, and Exceeds Expectations grades in his three other examined subjects; and he was over the moon to find that his letter said that he had guaranteed entry into the Auror programme.
"All right, cheeky monkey," Mandy Brocklehurst said to Blaise, "your turn now."
Blaise and Pansy had both done very well, and each of them was offered a place to train at St Mungo's as a Healer; while Mandy Brocklehurst and Lisa Turpin's results were good enough to get them placements in the Auror programme and with the Department of International Magical Co-operation respectively.
Neville turned out to be a quiet over-achiever; like Hermione, he had achieved straight Outstandings and no-one was surprised to find that Professor Sprout had offered him a position as her apprentice.
That left Harry and Draco to open their letters; they tossed a knut to see who would go first and the honour went to Draco.
With some trepidation, as, like Hermione, he was scared he had fluffed at least one exam, he opened the envelope and read his letter. To everyone's surprise, though he smiled, he had a puzzled expression on his face.
"Come on, how did you do, love?" Harry asked.
"I got an M," he replied quizzically. "What on earth is an M grade?"
"There's a note at the bottom," Hermione pointed out to him.
And so there was. In small print at the bottom of the parchment was written:
The Master grade is very rarely used; it is awarded approximately once every score of years or so. It signifies that the examiners regard the candidate's performance as being so far ahead of the normal level awarded an Outstanding grade that to award that grade would not be a fair representation of the candidate's ability in the subject. Accordingly, a grade of M will generally be accepted in a Master's programme in lieu of the first year of work, though you should discuss this with your sponsor.
"Wow," Ron said. "Only one every twenty years, and you got one, Draco! Congratulations, mate! Did you get an offer?"
Draco pulled out a small piece of parchment that came with his grades; instead of a letter from Matilda Hopkirk, he had received a hand-written note from Borage himself, stating that he would be delighted to offer Draco an apprenticeship, and that he could quite accept that Draco was so good a student that he would not be required to serve the first year.
Beaming, he passed the note to Harry, who read it quickly and then couldn't help but lean over and give his lover a congratulatory kiss.
"And how did you go, Harry? Straight 'O's?" Ron, clearly struggling to keep a straight face after this display, asked.
"Er," Harry said, handing his parchment to Hermione, "Not quite."
Hermione's face went white with shock.
"Let me guess, all 'O's except an M in Defense?" Ron asked.
"Almost," Hermione said. "Except he didn't get an O in Ancient Runes."
"Oh," Draco said, "well, that's hardly surprising since he's only been studying it for three months."
"Yeah," said Hermione, passing Harry his results back. "It has only been three months, hasn't it. So how do you explain that he got an M?"

Harry had slept soundly without dreaming while they were at Grimmauld Place; but, whether because they had their results, or because of the stress of the wedding now looming, with the rehearsal coming up, this night, he dreamt.
But it wasn't at all what he expected. The natural assumption was that the next dream would be in the graveyard; but instead, he found himself sitting cross-legged in the meadow of his mindscape, surrounded by a lawn with daisies and dandelions scattered through it. He found the white and yellow of the flowers rather soothing, to be honest; and was just sitting there, enjoying the view, when he realised that someone else was there too.
"Hello," he said, looking up to see another lad, perhaps a little taller than he, sitting opposite him in the same pose.
"Hello," the other replied. "Nice place you've made here."
"Thank you," Harry said, and they sat in silence for perhaps a minute. Harry felt unexpectedly comfortable; the other boy's presence seemed quite reassuring in some strange way, and he felt no need to carry on a conversation for politeness's sake.
Eventually he looked up again.
"Who are you?" he asked, astonishing himself at his own boldness.
"Ah," the other said, chuckling, "I think you are beginning to work that out."
"The mordant," Harry said, and it was a definite statement, not a question.
"Indeed," the other replied.
They sat in silence for a while, until Harry began again.
"How much do you know about Ancient Runes?"
The other boy laughed out loud. "A very great deal," he replied.
"So my mark in Runes was really a cheat?" Harry asked, his sense of fair play a bit outraged.
"Well, not really," came the reply. "Don't worry. All I did was to awaken the familial knowledge you already had."
"Familial knowledge?" Harry asked.
"Oh yes," the other replied. "Your father was quite a whiz at Runes; and one can inherit knowledge as well as other things, you know. Though normally it stays dormant; I just gave you a little push …"
"OK," Harry said. He had found Runes easy; but he did do as much work for the subject as for the others, so perhaps he could accept the help he had received, if he thought of it as a Professor giving extra tuition to a favourite pupil.
"Thanks."
The other's face became serious. "Not at all," he replied. "It only begins to repay the service you have done for me."
And with that, the scene faded to silver, and, wrapped in Draco's arms, Harry dreamed no more.

Author Notes
Grateful thanks as always to the wonderful Bicky Monster for helpful suggestions.
See my profile for details about facebook.
Thanks and chocolate profiteroles to those who commented. The party seems to have been a big hit, which I confess surprised me a little; they seem to be having a party every few chapters! Review replies at http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/56042-review-replies-for-returning-to-sanity/ as ever
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Returning to Sanity