ell inside the room triggered so that Blaise appeared on the other side of the door. Draco looked up towards Harry but was stopped by the curse Harry had waiting. As Draco’s form fell to the floor, the door opened, and the exam was over.

After dinner Draco headed for the Infirmary. Blaise was still there, and would spend the night; he’d broken Blaise’s jaw and nose, and given him a concussion.

The room was silent as he entered. Blaise looked up from his bed and gave him a sad smile as he sat down on the chair next to him.

“I’m…sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Gotten carried away like that?” Blaise finished. “Don’t be. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I didn’t get carried away. I wanted to hurt you.”

“Of course you did. You have ever since then.” Blaise didn’t have to clarify when “then” was, they were both thinking about the incident at the Manner. “And I can’t blame you for it. If I hadn’t gotten in your way, your father might still be alive.”

“But you didn’t kill my father. And it’s not your fault that he’s dead.”

“Maybe. We’ll never know will we?”

Draco shrugged, his eyes staring at the floor.

“I know it’s too late to say this. But I’m really sorry, Draco. If I could fix it—”

“Don’t say it Blaise. I don’t want to hear it. I know you’re sorry. I know you only did that because you had to appear loyal. You did warn me not to let myself be seen. But I was. Under the circumstances…not knowing what would happen…you did the right thing.”

“I’m not on his side Draco.” Blaise whispered. “But I was too weak to stand by that at the initiation.” He leaned back against the pillows. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen my parents more proud…or hated myself more at any other moment in my life.”

Draco nodded. The two were silent for a moment.

“Do you—I mean…I, er, got your invitation.” Blaise stumbled through his words. “Do you really want me at your wedding?”

Draco nodded slowly.

“And Potter’s okay with this?”

“Do you want him dead?”

“No.”

“Then he won’t have a problem with it. You’re not a good enough Death Eater.”

Blaise smile wryly. “I’m a horrible Death Eater.”

“I’m glad you are.”

The Great Hall was covered in red and gold in honor of Gryffindor House as Harry, Ron and Hermione entered for the Leaving Feast. As they passed the Slytherin table, Harry heard Draco drawling to Pansy and Blaise that if he’d been on the Quidditch team, then Slytherin wouldn’t have lost the Cup that year, and couldn’t help grinning.

As all of the students found their seats, Dumbledore stood and the hall quieted.

“Yet another year has passed. And we’re older and hopefully a little wiser for it. Now for the House Cup. Hufflepuff finishes the year with three hundred twenty points, Ravenclaw with three hundred forty points, Slytherin with four hundred ten points, and Gryffindor with four hundred and fifty points!” Cheers and applause filled the hall. “Yes, Congratulations Gryffindor! And I’ll not bother you with an old man’s mumbling there’s a feast to be had!”

As food filled the tables, Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and grinned. Draco raised his goblet in a mock salute and smirked in reply.

“Oh stop staring at him and go sit with him!” Ron muttered in-between mouthfuls.

“Yeah Harry, it’s obvious you want to!” Dean added from across the table.

“What?” Harry gaped. “Sit over there?”

“You are his fiancé,” Hermione added. “There’s no reason not to.”

“Well if you don’t want me here anymore…” Harry trailed off with a grin as he stood and amidst loud denials and laughter made his way over to the Slytherin table.

“Juste back for dessert!” Ron called after him.

“Got room for one more?” Harry murmured in Draco’s ear.

“I don’t know, Harry.” Draco looked up and down the table. “There don’t seem to be any empty spots left.”

“Then I’ll just have to sit on your lap.” And Harry did so.

“Uncouth Gryffindor,” Draco drawled as Harry grabbed a drumstick and added it to Draco’s plate.

“Yup, and you’ll get to spend the rest of your life with me,” Harry reminded him.

“Oh joy,” Draco drawled, but his eyes were glittering in laughter.

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