Yet Potter, now he was out of school, turned out to be a conversation topic Draco simply couldn't escape. If it wasn't his aunt dropping hints it was his teammates talking about Potter. Apparently, despite telling Draco he wasn't interested in his job, he'd been seen talking to a few Quidditch managers. Apparently a deal might be struck when tryouts started after the finals. Something Puddlemere wanted to get in on.
"I thought he wanted to be an auror," Draco huffed, tossing the quaffle to Scott.
"He does," Scott called back, zooming off between two beaters to try and score. They got it in, another ten points chiming from the sides.
"I heard he's considering his options," The chaser behind him said. "Something about a gap year. Trying everything."
"Is this Potter?" Another called a few feet away. There must have been a nod behind Draco since, "Yeah, I heard he was considering joining a team for a while, seeing what the training regime was like before he committed."
Draco wanted to bash his head against something. "Bit conceited don't you think." He saw the chaser behind him try and escape, kicking his leg out to get that little bit of extra distance between them. "I mean, no one else would be allowed to 'see what training was like' before signing."
The chaser in front of him, wary, but looking less scared the longer he was in Draco's presence, shrugged, "It's Potter innit."
It wasn't fair what it was.
Puddlemere made it to the semi finals before losing out. Again. This time it wasn't their fault. In fact, the whole thing was under investigation after the snitch flew into the other teams seeker just after being released.
Regardless, they wouldn't be in the final. Which meant Draco, once again, was made to listen to Peters 'try again next time' speech.
Things were a little tense after that. Namely because the swaps were already starting. Scott got signed on to play with the Arrows. Roberts outright quit for reasons unknown. One by one people were either fired, quit, or went to another team until it was only the 'faithful few' that were left. Draco amongst them.
He supposed this was why they had tryouts.
Speaking of, it was a lot less daunting being on the other side of them now his position had been secured. In fact, "We'll bump you up to seeker now Roberts is gone."
Peters shrugged, "If we sign Potter we'll talk about chaser, but we'll see about changing your schedule for the time being."
He wasn't the only one being bumped up. Wood made keeper, and he wasn't quiet about it. Draco had never seen a man as happy as Wood was when Peters pulled him aside to give him the good news. He was practically weeping by the end of it, Draco sniggering along with the rest of them as Peters told Wood to enjoy himself.
The tryouts themselves were scheduled just before the end of September. Something he told Andromeda to tell Potter if the rumours were true and he really was thinking about trying out.
Not that it mattered to him. Either way Draco was now officially playing every game that came their way next season and he couldn't be happier. His mother couldn't be happier either, near screaming in a way she probably hadn't since youth as she bundled him up in a hug. "I'm so proud of you!"
He patted her on the back, not entirely too sure what he was supposed to do here. "It's only seeker for the time being."
She drew back, "But you are playing permanently," she told him, "You're officially on the team darling, this- this is everything you've wanted."
A grin crept onto his face, "I know." It was. It was everything he'd wanted since he knew what Quidditch was. "They're going to hate me," he laughed, thinking about all the fans Puddlemere was about to lose now he was playing every game. He didn't care however.
His mother didn't either, "They'll deal with it. The world has to move on eventually."
Just when that would be remained to be seen.
They went out to celebrate. Naturally, since it was a big occasion, and his mother loved to show him off, she rang Andromeda up on that muggle telefono thing and told her to join them. Meaning, "Malfoy," he was once more standing in front of Potter and his gang as Andromeda insisted on them trying this new muggle restaurant.
"Weasley," he nodded back, looking for his aunt. She hadn't appeared to have come with the three of them.
"She's running a bit late," Granger said. "Teddy's been a bit of a handful recently."
That was news to him. His mother's hand tightened on his arm as she said, "Children often are." she tugged him a little closer to the door, "Why don't we wait inside darling? You can buy me a drink."
He sighed, almost rolling his eyes as he followed his mother inside, "Just because I'm legal in the muggle world does not mean I'm going to be buying you alcohol mother." She seemed to enjoy not having to go to the bar now he was over eighteen. Said it saved her poor ankles from hurting. Really he just thought she thought he enjoyed the thrill of being able to buy alcohol. He couldn't exactly do it in a wizarding bar. Not that he'd tried, but Draco was fairly sure no one would serve him. Worse, they'd probably hex him so badly he'd end up in Mungo's before he even reached the bar itself.
There was a reason he didn't go out with the rest of his team.
"I'll buy you a drink," came from behind them, Potter and crew seeming to have taken his mother's invitation to mean all of them wait inside. "What exactly do you like?"
Mother shot him a look before hesitantly turning to Potter again and rattling off her usual. They found a seat in the meantime, Draco horrified to see Granger near crammed in next to him on the round sofa. The silence was stifling. Made worse, too, by the look he could feel Weasley giving him.
Granger cleared her throat a few times, yet nothing came out. It wasn't until Potter came back with a whole tray of drinks that any of them minutely relaxed. Draco thought it was the amount of hexes that had been fired at him through the years, that was what made Potter so at ease with awkwardness. He certainly had no problem asking after Draco's mother, despite there being two other people he could have easily ignored Draco and his mother for until Andromeda arrived. Yet there he was, talking. Asking questions. Looking interested.
Even, "Do you still talk to your husband?" like it was perfectly fine to ask after incarcerated Death Eaters.
Mother's drink clinked onto the table in front of them. "Sometimes," she admitted. "Not often. Things have been strained for years-"
Draco snorted, ignoring the nails she dug into his knee.
"-but none of that tonight. And certainly not with you young people." Like Draco wasn't acutely aware of every single fight they'd had in the manor and out. Still, dirty laundry and all that. "Darling are you sure you wouldn't like a drink."
He closed his eyes, "Fairly mother." Although anymore talk about his father and he might reconsider.
Thankfully, Andromeda showed up before another topic could be brought to life, Teddy dangling from her arms and looking most put out. Up until he saw his audience that was. After that he was squirming to be put down, running over to them as Andromeda sorted their booking out.
Teddy was passed around like a parcel before landing in Draco's lap. He happily smushed a kiss on Draco's cheek that stayed wet for far longer than Draco was comfortable with as he started babbling about his day. There were even some words thrown in there that he understood, even if, to Teddy, one word could have a variety of different meanings. He was still learning after all, which meant that when Teddy said shoe, he could be telling Draco to look at his shiny shoes, or he could be commenting about the weather. Who knew. It was all disjointed without the context of tone. Still, he tried to keep up as best he could, glad he had someone to distract him from whatever had possessed Andromeda to think it was a good idea to invite Potter and his friends to a celebratory dinner in honour of Draco.
"Draco?"
He hummed, finding where the conversation had drifted to, "Oh, right, yes, Peters told me to tell you that if you want to try out for Seeker to come on the twenty seventh. That's when all the others will be coming." So no special treatment on that front.
Potter looked a little taken back, "Right."
"What? You didn't think you'd have to try out?" Draco honestly hadn't either, but, well, here they were.
"Draco," His mother hissed anyway, like he hadn't just stated the obvious.
Potter didn't seem to care either way. "Well no. I just, I didn't think tryouts were that soon."
"Puddlemere's one of the later ones. I was at tryouts since the beginning of June when I was starting." Training long before that too. There was little else to do on house arrest after all.
"June?"
"Guess that means the Cannons are out," Weasley muttered.
He held his tongue on the Cannons actually holding theirs September eighth, which honestly wasn't that bad considering it was still the beginning of August. Instead, "You know you don't have to go right?"
"Draco," his mother hissed again.
"What? He doesn't. In fact don't. If you don't show up I get to stay seeker next season."
"Draco," his mother warned again.
"What? That's why we're here. Forgive me for wanting to keep the position we're actually celebrating me landing right now." The drills were less intense for seeker too. Well, physically anyway. Mentally they were even more exhausting than a chasers.
He could feel the glares coming not just from his mother. Andromeda didn't appear to care, but Weasley was certainly serving him some looks. He didn't mind, he'd delivered his message and had Teddy telling him all about how good his mashed potato was right afterwards so attention didn't stay on him for too long.
His mother didn't forget his words however, cornering him just as they got in the door. "Perhaps next time you could try and work on your tone." Since his words might not have been the worst thing to come out of his mouth, but the tone wasn't exactly friendly. "I know this wasn't what you had in mind, and I didn't know she was going to invite them, but you know they're a part of her life Draco. You're going to have to make an effort at some point."
He knew that.
She took his hand, "Draco, I know things aren't easy, and I know you don't like them. But the world isn't what it used to be. We got lucky. We got very lucky."
"I know." He did. He really did know.
"Potter might be trying out for Quidditch right now, but we both know there are rumours about him becoming an Auror. Our house gets raided every four months, do you honestly want to make it more?"
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He understood what she was saying. "It's just hard."
"I know," she hugged him, and she, he knew, probably was the only person who did know how hard it was for him. How hard it was to be nice to these people because it wasn't as simple as plastering on a smile and being welcoming. There was a reason he and his mother didn't interact with the wizarding world more than they needed to. The damage had been done. For as long as there would be a Malfoy, now, they'd never be welcome. His name was on a list that would go down for some of the vilest things to ever take place in modern wizarding history, and nothing, no nice words, no smile, would change what he'd done, what these people saw him as. He knew they didn't want to see him as anything else either.
He certainly wouldn't if he was in their shoes.
"I'm going to bed," he sighed, hanging his coat up.
Work was slow after that night. There was nothing really to do until tryouts. Nothing except watch the other teams sort out their line up. They still did their drills, but they weren't as intense as they usually were. Except Wood's. He seemed to take it upon himself to push himself further than he had before, making sure he was in tip top condition for anything the Quidditch world could throw at him. It was like he was expecting some sort of life or death Quidditch situation to pop up at any minute.
Lunatic.
When the tryouts did come around, Draco found himself a nice little bench to doze on as one by one people filed in to hopefully add their name to Puddlemere's roster. Wood was near vibrating with excitement as he sat on the bench behind Draco's, blocking the worst of the sun so he wouldn't burn. "Don't know him," he'd mutter sometimes, "Know her," others, "oh she's good with a bat I think." Then, like Draco couldn't feel the exact minute Potter walked in, "Oi Harry!" Wood screeched, his hand waving frantically in the air.
"You're not supposed to show favouritism," Draco told him.
"I'm not," Wood grinned, sitting back down, "I'm just saying hello."
Draco sighed, napping his way through the mock game Peters set up. He had to say, while he was missing actually doing something, he wasn't too mad being paid to nap around. Not to mention he actually managed to nap too. He put it down to the noise. At the manor it was just so… quiet. Here, with Wood literally screaming at Potter's performance, he knew he wasn't alone. In a good way.
"Did he get it?" Draco yawned later when Wood finally woke him. The pitch was empty, the new recruits being given a tour of the stadium they would be training with this next season.
"Course he did," Wood laughed, helping Draco up. "Which means you've been bumped up to chaser. Which means we are definitely going to win this season because everyone still wets themselves when you're around."
Joy.
His mother wasn't too downtrodden when he came home with news he'd been usurped as seeker. "We knew this was coming," She told him, poking at her soggy mash. "And at least you're both on the same team this time. Your friend is probably right, you're looking at a winning season this year."
He hummed, leaving it at that as he forced down his supper.
Monday came sooner than he would have liked. He hadn't gotten much sleep, that nap on Friday upsetting his sleep schedule enough that he was yawning his way onto the pitch. He stretched his arms over his head, trying to wake himself up as he heard Peters start on his opening speech to the new recruits. All that stuff about working hard and endurance and that they'd all signed a contract now so there would be no crying about sore muscles or hangovers. They were here, this was work, they were to be professional, etcetera, etcetera.
He reached his toes just as the good part about drug tests and wand confiscation before matches came about, noting more than a few terrified faces at that last part. "But," he heard one of them hiss, "What if- I mean, he's on our team. What if he does something?"
Peters didn't even try and keep his voice down as he replied, "Malfoy's wand will be with everyone else's. If you still have a problem with it I suggest quitting now since Malfoy certainly won't be."
Draco rolled his eyes, wandering off to where the rest of the chasers were. While the others would be given more speeches, some warm ups and some more speeches after that, the rest of them knew the drill. Warm up, start their rounds and enjoy the lack of Peters attention while they still could. Merlin knows they'd have him shouting at them enough tomorrow.
Only one of the chasers were here from last season, the others had quit or been swapped. Draco did a mental count in his head, glad to see there were enough of them here to mean the newbies were on the sides this season. Good. These people were used to playing with him. They wouldn't flinch every time he threw the quaffle. Well, they wouldn't after a few games that was.
The beaters were reserves from last season, another good thing. That meant he didn't have to worry about his head being taken off by a bludger from his own team mid game. Since Wood was keeper and Potter seeker this was turning out to be a good line up indeed.
It was an easy morning therefore. They could almost have a full game as well before lunch, everyone splitting off to find their friends, or make nice with the newbies. Draco just found a nice spot to catch five minutes under.
He woke when someone wasn't too quiet in picking their way over to him, not all too surprised to see Potter's stupid glasses glinting in the sunlight, near blinding him. Draco tried turning on his side, "Lost?" The glare wasn't too bad here, even if it didn't drown out the noise as well as the visual.
"No," there was a scuff as Potter sat. "Just thought I'd sit down."
"And there weren't other places?" Draco had chosen a place near the top of the stadium for a reason. More importantly, "Aren't you going to lunch?"
"Brought my own," was the response.
"Still," he was sure there were other people who'd brought their own lunches too. People waiting for the chance to sit next to Potter like it was their life dream.
"You have a problem with me sitting here?" Potter asked, finally a hint of something in his tone.
"I came up here for a nap, not to socialise. So yes, I do have a problem." It looked like he wasn't going to even get that nap now. Probably for the best, if he slept now he'd have a hard time doing it again later. So he pushed himself up, shuffling around until he could swing his legs under the bench.
He fully expected more antagonising after that. Maybe Potter trying to be nice again. Instead he was greeted with silence. So much so he actually could have gotten a nap in before lunch ended. He knew he was kicking himself when Peters finally called them all back down, all those minutes wasted waiting for Potter to speak gone now.
Still, he slept that night at least. Not a lot. But enough that he wasn't completely useless when Peters started coordinating everyone into their drills for the season. He still tried to have a few minutes rest when lunch came around, hiding in the shadier part of the stadium now the sun was blaring like it always seemed to do at the end of September.
Yet, again, he was found, and again Potter said nothing, just ate his lunch quietly next to him.
It was getting a bit suspicious come the third day. By the fourth, Draco just ignored him and snoozed for a good ten minutes. The fifth, well, maybe it was the fact that he had two full days trapped in the manor ahead of him but Draco was in a bit of a foul mood. So much so that, "Okay, that's it, why are you sitting with me? There are ten people, right now, that I can see desperate to have lunch with you. Hell, Wood's been practically propositioning you since Monday. Stop babysitting the Death Eater and go enjoy yourself Potter." and leave him to his solitude once more.
Potter set his sandwich down, Draco bracing himself for a fight, yet after a moment Potter did what Draco had asked him to do. He got up, he went down, and he had lunch with other people.
He fell back to the bench, wondering if it was always that easy to tell Potter to go away. It probably had been. Save that one time in sixth year, Draco sort of remembers he being the one that wouldn't leave Potter alone. Hmmm.
The rest of the day passed as it usually did, Draco picking his broom up at the end of it wondering what he was going to do tomorrow. He ignored Wood asking him if he wanted to get a drink, it was all politeness anyway at this point, everyone knew Draco wasn't one for going out. Maybe he could take up painting.
He didn't take up painting. Instead he ended up crying in the kitchen for half an hour when he accidentally stumbled into one of the boarded up ballrooms. That, the nightmares that came from that and the fact he couldn't take a bath without his chest feeling like it was going to explode meant he was in a sour mood come Monday.
Thankfully work meant being outside of the manor. Up in the air where all his problems boiled down to passing the quaffle to someone else to score a goal. Simple. Easy. With the sun beating down on his face it was hard to think of anything else but work, and Draco's work was nothing if not fun in some sense so he soon pushed his bad weekend behind him.
At least until lunch when Potter crept up on him again. He didn't even bother to hide his groan, turning his back to his interloper and forcing the sun to do its work and lull him into sleep for a few minutes.
Then Potter cleared his throat. Not in the something stuck in it way either. The deliberate way that meant they were gearing up to speak.
Sure enough, "I er, meant to ask, how do you deal with the aches? Hermione said cream but I figured you'd know best since you've actually been dealing with them for a year now."
Aches? He glanced at Potter over his shoulder. Were they really having this conversation right now. "Just fucking stretch Potter, it's not that hard." Draco certainly stretched. His baths were getting fewer and far between which meant he had to look to other methods.
"Stretching," Potter nodded like it was a revelation to him. Had they not stretched at school? Draco had met Wood, he knew that man certainly did. Yet, "Wh- what er, what sort of stretching would that be?"
Draco thumped his head back on his arms. He wasn't doing this anymore. Potter didn't ask again thankfully too.
Yet the next day, "I think Peters is taking it easy on me. Did he speak to you like that when you first joined up?"
'That' being the way Peters gently coaxed Potter into a different maneuver instead of yelling a name at him and expecting him to automatically know what he was talking about. Draco had spent more time researching moves his first few weeks than he had sleeping, and he had slept a lot last year. "No."
"I knew it," Potter muttered. "Do you think I should say something?"
Honestly? Potter had it pretty good right now. If Draco were him he wouldn't say a thing. Potter was about the only newbie so far, after all, that hadn't wandered into the changing rooms to cry because it was 'too hard'. Well, Draco hadn't too, but that was because he had more to lose if he ended up crying in the changing rooms. Still, he didn't say anything. If Potter wanted to be treated like everyone else, let him. Draco didn't care, he was used to it by now, and Peters yelling was more like a soothing white noise to his ears than anything else.
Potter must have said something however, since Peters did start treating Potter like the others. In a weird way. He yelled, but it was more along the lines of, 'maybe you could blah blah blah!' 'careful now blah blah blah' 'go right next time if it feels right blah blah blah'. So still coaxing, just, weirdly.
Potter had noticed it too since their lunchtime meetings had went from tentative comments to full blown rants by that next Friday. "I knew this would happen," Potter grumbled, "This is exactly why I didn't think Quidditch was a good idea. Not that the aurors would be any better. Urgh it's like they think I'm a child or, well, not a child since they'd probably still yell at a child. But, definitely something."
Draco was starting to understand why the Dark Lord had wanted to kill Potter so much. He'd forgotten, in his days without Potter in his life, just how annoying the other boy could be. Screw what his mother said, he'd been right as a child, Potter was an idiot, and a bloody gobby one at that. "Do you ever shut up?"
Just to prove that he didn't Potter muttered, "Yes."
Draco felt like slapping him, "Oh poor you. Poor perfect Potter being given special treatment. You should be thankful, you're the only one who's being given actual attention. Good attention at that. But," he sat up, "If you're really all that upset about it, give it until the first game. I'm sure once he sees you play for real he'll treat you like the rest of us."
Potter looked ready to blow, yet all that came out was one long breath, Potter's brows drawing together as he asked, "You really think so?"
"Urgh!" he fell back, covering his eyes and praying for lunch to be over.
Their first game came on the tail end of October. Draco didn't think that was nearly enough time to train newbies but, well, he'd been one last year and he was sufficiently trained. Or he thought he was. Besides, most of them were playing reserves.
It was a little different being introduced along with the rest of his team. He'd played proper games before now, sure, but not from the beginning. He hadn't had to sit and wait around for the rules to be spoken, for the hype to build. Usually he was talking with Wood on the sides right now, the pair of them sizing up the opposing team in between tidbits about their weekend. He was a little jittery.
He wasn't the only one.
While Draco had a lifetime of pushing his nerves to the side, of hiding them so his father wouldn't cane his shaking hands, the other team hadn't. Draco could see them side eyeing him, just like his own teammates from the side had done since they'd been signed. They were scared of him, probably always would be, and while that might bother him down the line Draco actually appreciated that fear. It made it easier to win when no one was standing in his way.
The whistle blew and their victory was quite possibly the easiest they'd had to date. Mainly because Potter still didn't understand the points system in the league yet and caught the snitch ten minutes in. Draco had to wonder if it was on purpose as, after they'd all shaken hands and posed for the paper Peters, indeed, did what Draco had promised and started on a full hour long rant about just why they couldn't be catching the snitch "Ten bloody minutes into the game Potter!"
On purpose or not, Draco hid a smile as he changed out of his robes. It wasn't like it was the worst victory they'd had. Since this was their first game they didn't, necessarily, need points to get them up the table. But next time they would, so, far be it for Draco to stop Peters from educating Potter.
Draco's fan club was waiting just outside the changing rooms as they usually were, Teddy running into his legs with blue facepaint smudged everywhere. "We won!" he was even wearing a Puddlemere strip.
"We did," Draco hoisted him up, taking him back to Andromeda. "I take it you're here for Potter," he spied Granger and, Merlin, the whole Weasley clan coming over too. "He might be a while, Peters is having a go at him."
Andromeda rolled her eyes, taking Teddy off him. "You don't mind do you?" she asked.
Draco shook his head. "It's his first game." Besides, he had a feeling if Andromeda did go out with him and mother, Potter and his friends would join them too. One or two of them he could stomach, but all of them? No chance. He turned back to Teddy, "Who's your favourite player?"
"You," Teddy cheered.
He grinned, wiggling Teddy's cheeks, "Keep it that way." He wasn't going to be outflown by Potter. Not yet anyway.
Teddy's giggles followed him all the way to the apparation point. That and the glares he could feel coming from the army of redheads he knew hadn't ignored his passing. He wondered, for a moment, what they thought about Potter playing on the same team as a Death Eater.
Then realised he didn't care and focused instead on the burger in front of him.
Practice after their victory was spent with Potter stealing the attention as usual. Only this time Peters didn't hold back his criticism, near screaming when Potter put so much as a toe out of place. He really was making sure they were getting those points next time.
Draco didn't care. More attention on Potter meant less on him, which meant he could do his drills, get more familiar with these new teammates, in peace. Yet lunch had to come at some point and still Potter didn't take the hint and join Wood in trying that muggle place he frequented daily.
Potter looked happier today, which was something Draco supposed since it meant he kept his mouth shut through lunch. That also could have been because Potter fell asleep at some point too, Draco waking when Potter slumped so far over his head hit Draco's ass. The jolt meant neither of them looked at each other the rest of the afternoon.
Truthfully Draco was hoping that incident would stave off Potter finding him the rest of the week. No such luck. Again and again Potter would find him at lunch, the pair of them snoozing the minutes away until they were called down to play again. It was probably the most civil they'd ever been to each other.
"You're coming to the afterparty this time right?" Wood asked as they waited for the announcer calling them.
Potter pursed his lips, "Dunno. I think Molly's here again and I don't really want to just tell her to go, you know."
Wood nodded, "Next time then. Draco?"
"I don't drink," he reminded Wood.
Still, "You don't have to drink, just come and have a good time."
"No. Thank you."
Wood rolled his eyes, "Are we really that bad company? I thought you liked me at least."
"I do," Draco found himself admitting. "But if I go, I'll be tempted to drink, and I don't need an alcohol addiction. Malfoy manor's terrifying enough without adding an outside substance."
Wood's hands twisted on his broom, "Didn't think of that."
"It's fine." He doubted a lot of people thought about those who'd been pardoned. Why would they care about what they had been left behind with, they were the bad guys after all. "But if we ever have a team dinner I'll come to that. It's a chore making my own meals these days."
Wood laughed, "I'll keep that in mind."
Draco felt eyes on him, and glanced to the side to see Potter giving him an odd look. "What?"
The announcer started before Potter could reply, all of them taking their brooms and striding into the stadium.
They won, since of course they did they had Potter with them now. The point was that they won by a lot, and Draco even managed to score a goal. Something he was infinitely proud of as he raced to change.
His mother beat him to it when he got outside, "You scored!" hugging him tight. "You did it, you actually scored."
He hadn't been this happy since he caught his first snitch last year. "I did." He felt like a real Quidditch player. Obviously he was one, but it was still a little surreal sometimes.
Things got even better when Andromeda and Teddy didn't ditch him for Potter. The four of them went out to an upscale muggle restaurant, a grin stretching Draco's face the entire night.
As did listening to Potter's awful afterparty the next morning. Apparently his victory had been cut short when Weasley and Granger got engaged. "I mean I'm happy for them," he heard Potter say to Wood, sounding anything but happy, "but they just- they're always all over each other, you know. It's like I don't see them anymore because when I do see them they're talking with each other instead of me and," he sighed.
"Yeah," Wood agreed, "but that's what happens when you grow up. Besides," he knocked Potter's shoulder, "I'm sure you and Ginny are just as bad."
Draco went to warm up before he heard anything more. The last thing he needed was visuals.
Thankfully Potter didn't lament Granger and Weasley's engagement to him at lunch. Instead they both had their respected naps and got on with the day. Just how it should be. Well, if Potter could find somewhere else to sleep then it would be how it should be. But Draco would take what he could get for now.