Draco found himself unable to sleep. Merlin knew how long had passed since his encounter with World's Golden Hero. The evening gloom outside of his window turned to night's darkness, and yet sleep still would not claim him. At first, he had been blazing mad, almost wanting to grab his wand and make a raid at Potter's room to give the brat what he deserved. So, he paced restlessly back and forth in his apartment, uttering curses under his breath, incandescent with rage. Then after half an hour or so, he calmed down, landed himself back on his bed, and stared blankly at the opposite wall. He needed to think, and he needed to think fast. During the past few days, he wasn't able to come out with anything. He knew being locked up, hiding from everything between four secure walls of his room wasn't helping him any, but he didn't want to meet outside world just yet. Because when he did, he would have to face it, make his decisions and speak his reasons. Or at least make his excuses.

He sighed, putting his head in his hands. Time was running out, and he wasn't any closer to getting out of this mess. Through his fingers, he peered at bedside table where the latest letter from his father lay. It was crumpled and marked by fingertips from being read time and time again but had yet to be responded to.

From all the bullshit the Golden Prat had said today, in one thing he was right. This was absolutely and solely about Draco. He had to get through this alone, and maybe it was better to start sooner rather than later. Scrambling out of bed, he gathered a quill and parchment, stopping briefly before putting his thoughts down in words. He had to be careful about this. Cunning, even. Proclaiming his loyalties while holding his head down. Playing a good little son while not getting too deeply tangled up in this whole mess. It wasn't going to be an easy task, but he was a Slytherin. He will find his way around.

By the time the first sentence was put down in black ink, thoughts about his previous encounter with The Boy Who Lived were long forgotten, pushed to the back of his mind by more important tasks at hand. He was going to get through this. For the first time in days, Draco felt almost confident.

When he was done, he re-read the letter carefully, thinking about every word and sentence. That was it. He couldn't do anything more right now. Taking a deep breath, he summoned Wretcher. He handed him the neatly rolled parchment and ordered him to send it since he was too tired to actually climb the stairs to the top of the Manor to give it to his owl himself.

Only later, when he was almost falling asleep curled in the covers, did he realize why he managed to write the letter tonight in the first place. Damned Potter. If he hadn't pissed him off so badly this evening, he probably wouldn't have picked up the quill. Great. Not only had Potty intruded into his home, stealing a part of his personal space, but now he got to mess with his actions and personal business too. The brat will pay for that, he promised to himself silently.

XXX

When Harry stumbled down for breakfast the next morning, he was expecting to find Draco's seat empty again, but to his surprise, the Malfoy heir sat at the table, his attention focused on the Daily Prophet opened in front of him. He still looked a bit crumpled, but definitely better than yesterday, much more like a selfish pureblooded prat. If he noticed The Boy Who Lived enter the dining room, he never let it show. He didn't even look up when Narcissa and Harry exchanged greetings and a few casual phrases. The wizarding hero averted his eyes. Right, trust Ferret to act like nothing happened at all. But still it meant that whatever argument he had with the blond brat yesterday, Harry come out as a winner. That realization made him smirk. Harry just hoped Malfoy wasn't waiting for an opportunity to pay him back. He wasn't looking forward finding his juice switched for something tasting like one of the worst flavors of Bertie Bott's Beans or waking up with rabbit teeth. He shortly considered barricading himself up in his room at night.

And just like that, Draco was showing up at meals again. He never mentioned anything about their previous fight, so Harry didn't bring it up either. They swiftly fell back to their routine of regular, fierce, but harmless quarrels.

With the discovered Quidditch pitch, Harry went flying almost every day, finding it utterly relaxing. One of the days, when he was leaving his apartment with his Firebolt in hand, he bumped into Malfoy in the corridor.

"What Potter, need practice so you won't totally embarrass yourself back in Hogwarts?" the blond boy mocked him with his usual superior voice.

"Not really, Malfoy. Just practicing shielding spells up in the air so you can't cheat to win. 'Cause face it, you stand no chance any other way."

Draco snickered. "I don't need to cheat to kick your arse anytime."

"Oh really?" Harry let his brow rise in faked surprise. "Last time I checked you didn't know a difference between a broom and a stick."

"Says the one playing with Weasleys. I often wondered if the brooms they had were ever going to fall apart in the middle of a game. I was kind of looking forward it. Shame it never happened."

"And still, funny Gryffindor won again last year, don't you think?"

"You were just lucky."

"I am afraid it has more to do with the fact that Slytherin's seeker is useless. Wouldn't catch a snitch if his life depended on it," Harry replied, leaning against his broom casually. His words had the expected result as Malfoy's eyes narrowed, his mouth curling up in a sneer.

"Alright Potter, let's see, but if I catch all the snitches before you, you are going to play the first match with 'Idiot' written in bold on your forehead."

"Fair deal," the Gryffindor seeker said, turning his back on his rival and proceeding towards the pitch. Once he was out of sight, he let the grin he was holding back spread on his face. Getting the ferret where he wanted him was so easy sometimes.

It didn't take long for Draco to join Harry on a Quidditch pitch, Nimbus firmly in hand. They started off by releasing the snitches, waiting until they got high enough and then chasing after them, betting on who would win this time and uttering insults every once in a while. They were well matched which made the final score close to equal. When they got bored of it, they switched to a Quaffle throwing game that inevitably ended with them trying to knock each other off their broom with well-aimed throws. It was almost time for dinner when they decided to call it quits and retired to their apartments.

To Harry's surprise, he was really enjoying himself. He never would have thought that spending an afternoon in the ferret's company could have been so much fun. Curiously enough, Draco was quite tolerable once absorbed in the game. Harry could almost get used to him. Well, he guessed he should enjoy it while he could. The train to Hogwarts was leaving in a week, and Harry could only imagine that things would go back to normal once inside the castle's walls. Back there, Draco will be surrounded by his snake friends and the Golden Boy had no doubt that the rivalry between them would change from teasing to nasty insults and attacks again.

Although staying at the Malfoy Manor has been far more pleasant experience than Harry first imagined, he couldn't wait to get back to school — mainly to meet Ron and Hermione again. He knew he wouldn't be able to tell them much — firstly, he understood the need to be discreet and didn't want to get Narcissa in trouble since she was taking such a huge risk by keeping him hidden, and secondly he didn't think the Fiddelius would let him reveal much anyway. But even if he could tell, he doubted his two best friends would believe him. There were only a few things crazier than The Boy Who Lived hiding in a Malfoy Manor after all.

Before going down for dinner, Harry stopped in front of a mirror to straighten any crumpled clothing and took a quick glance at himself, coming to the conclusion that his looks were passing. It was a thing he got used to during his brief stay amongst Malfoys. Merlin forbid Narcissa spotted him with a creased collar. Such a thing led to endless fussing from the witch. So, Harry picked up a few apparently cardinal rules on "how should young gentlemen dress and behave" to avoid her lectures, which seemed to be just what the Black women wanted. In Gryffindor tower, kids usually made fun of how neat Draco and some other snakes were, not a strand sticking up from their perfectly greased hair, but now, Harry guessed he understood. Though the rules set up for him seemed to be far milder than the ones Narcissa had for her own son and the Golden Boy doubted any amount of grease would ever tame his dark messy hair — not that he was ever going to try — faced with the Black women's determination, surrender was the only option left.

Hurrying to get down in time, he almost bumped to Draco on stairs.

"Saint Potter is not late? Hell must be freezing over," the blond boy remarked, scowling at the rather ungraceful spin Harry made to avoid collision.

"I am not always late," the Golden boy said after catching his balance and falling in step with his rival. Draco just raised his eyebrows.

They arrived to the dining room together and in silence, only speaking again to greet the already present Narcissa.

"Harry, dear, do you have everything you need for Hogwarts?" Narcissa asked somewhere during breakfast. "I am sending Wretcher for some more shopping tomorrow, and I was thinking you definitely need a new suitcase. The one you come here with is so old it must remember Merlin. Besides, it's so large it must be horribly unpractical. I was thinking something with extension charms would do better. And lock charms on it. After all, castle dormitories are quite public."

Harry just sighed internally. There was no point arguing with the women. He betted she already picked and preordered a "perfect one" that is an absolutely must have. What he didn't quite get was why he would need to suddenly lock his things in Gryffindor tower while he never had done so in five years, but he let it go.

"That would be very nice, thank you. I think I have everything else already."

Narcissa smiled sweetly, obviously satisfied with his answer. "Well, if you remember something, feel free to have Wretcher get it."

XXX

Harry slowly levitated the last of his belongings into his new school trunk. Seeing his overly large closet so empty again was somehow sad. He looked his now vacant apartment over before shutting and locking his new truck and levitating it through the door. With everything packed, the room didn't give any indication The Boy Who Lived had ever even been there. Harry's stay here was rather short, hardly more than a month, but he had gotten so used to those four walls. Who knows if he'll ever come back here. With a sigh, he put his trunk down on the floor in corridor for Wretcher to pick up and headed for the stairs.

Both Malfoys were in sitting the room already. Narcissa was fussing about something that had to do with Draco's tie, while Ferret just stood there with a bored and resigned look on his face.

"Harry, dear, do you have everything packed and ready?" Narcissa asked, spotting him in the door and giving said tie a last tug to adjust it to perfection. The Boy Who Lived just nodded, moving to sit at one of the armchairs.

"Good, the portkey Dumbledore sent for you should be active in about ten minutes."

Harry simply nodded again. Now that he was so close to leaving, he was feeling somewhat nervous and didn't know what to say. He eyed the broken muggle watch on the table nearby, a thing brought by Snape just a day earlier that should transport him to the planned meeting point with his escort to platform 9 3/4.

"Well, if you happened to forget something, I am sure I'll find some way to get it delivered to you," Mr. Malfoy smiled, crossing the room and bending down to smooth some nonexistent wrinkles on Harry's shirt. "I know we won't be able to contact each other once you're in Hogwarts, but if you need help or just anything, go to the house elves. Wretcher knows some of them since Draco was very homesick his first year and owl post seemed too slow for him."

The blond boy averted his eyes. "Mother, I wasn't homesick."

"Oh, yes, you were," Narcissa chuckled. "He demanded his letters to be send any time of day or night, and threatened poor elves that if they are not, his father will hear about it."

Harry laughed. "I can totally see that. That was his favorite phrase all the way up to third year."

"At least I didn't steal a charmed car and crash it into the Whomping Willow just to get attention," Slytherin prince sneered.

"But you willingly pissed off a Hippogriff to get it. That makes such a difference."

"That thing was a bloodthirsty creature. And besides, I don't call for my mommy anymore, unlike someone else when he meets a dementor."

They got interrupted by Narcissa's soft laugh. "Alright, boys. Enough of your sweet goodbyes. Harry, you better get a hold of the portkey already. You wouldn't want to miss it."

"Uh, yeah." The Wonder Boy stood up to get the watch. Malfoy just grunted and collapsed onto one of the armchairs.

"I just wanted to thank you," Harry said nervously, portkey already in hand, "for everything you did for me."

"Don't worry, dear," the blond woman smiled. "You will be always welcomed in this Manor."

Draco grunted something incomprehensible then averted his eyes at Narcissa's sharp look. "Right, right. Just don't expect me not to bully you at Hogwarts."

Harry smirked. "Wouldn't even dream about it. I'll — " In that moment, Potter disappeared from the Manor.

Both Malfoys stared for a while at the empty space where the messy haired boy stood just a while ago.

"Well, we should go too," Narcissa sighed. "You know how disappointed your father can be when he has to wait."

"I still don't understand why he insists on seeing me off. We rarely even see each other. We discuss everything that he wants to talk about through letters," Draco said, getting up.

Mrs. Malfoy smiled. "Well, that's probably why. You'll understand once you have your own children."

"I'm not sure I ever want it to happen. If he still insists that I marry Pansy sodding Parkinson, I'd rather enter monastery."

Narcissa gave him a light punch to his shoulder. "That is not a way to speak about a lady."

"That's because I don't speak about one. By the way, mother, would it be possible to get Wretcher to bring the Sleeping Drought we have to Hogwarts? And maybe some more."

"So, you have sleeping problems," his mother stated, sounding concerned.

Draco shook his head. "No. Not me."

"Oh, I see. Sure, I will arrange it," she replied as they left the door.