Harry was confused at seeing a jovial Hagrid clap Malfoy on the back. To see the two chatting with each other with such friendliness. He studied Malfoy's face, a little paler than usual, his eyes were anxious and the set of his shoulders determined. Since when was Malfoy this easy to read? He wondered.

"It has been three years Harry, McGonagal wouldn't have hired him if she thought he might cause trouble.

"I'm just worried he'll try something."

"Try what exactly? As far as the Order knows all the former Death Eaters have either been rounded up, or are "reformed" and under constant surveillance."

"Not him, the Malfoy's managed to squeeze through. Oily git." But even as Harry said it, he didn't really mean it. He knew Lucious Malfoy was dead, and that Narcissa had withdrawn, now devoting her time to volunteer work. Ironically she worked with muggleborn children and their families to prepare them for the customs and traditions of the wizarding world. In the three years since the war Draco Malfoy had been acquiescent to the laws of the new Ministry, submitting voluntarily to Veritserum questioning once a month to prove he was law abiding, as had his mother. They had both done their best to move on after the war, he had to admit. In their brief encounter Malfoy had been as pompous as ever but Harry supposed he'd had a right to be angry, Harry hadn't burst into his rooms on purpose but he couldn't blame the man for being annoyed. Harry blushed as he remembered falling into the bath, against a very naked Malfoy then shook his head to clear it. He didn't need to be thinking about Malfoy naked, he'd probably have nightmares. Harry would have to face Malfoy after the feast to retrieve his trunk and wasn't looking forward to it in the slightest. Asking a house elf to fetch it for him was an option but he could hear Hermionie's voice in his head chastising him for asking a house elf to do something he could easily manage himself. No, It had been his mistake, he'd suck his pride up and apologize, then do his best to avoid clashing with Malfoy while he was here. He chatted with Neville the rest of the evening then at the end of the feast took a breath and looked back over to where Malfoy had been sitting but the seat was empty. Good, he'd probably already headed back to his room, Harry could stop by on the way to his own rooms across the hall.

Making his way through the castle brought up many memories, he hadn't really been paying attention as he rushed from Malfoy's rooms to the great hall. Now though, he walked slowly, both to delay another interaction with Malfoy and at the sheer delight of being back at Hogwarts. Here, more than anywhere else, he felt at home. It had been his first real escape from his interminable life with the Dursley's. It was here he'd met his first real friends, learned magic, and had ridden both emotional highs and lows. He felt…more himself here than he had in a long time. Again it occurred to him that Ginny had been right. He had been in a fog since the war ended, a perpetual self induced stasis he had been unable or unwilling to shake himself out of. She had done them both a favor. He was excited to begin his classes the next morning, memories of how pleased he'd been as the members of the D.A. had improved, how good it had felt to teach, he didn't know why he hadn't thought of this as a potential career before. He paused at Malfoy's door, having almost walked past it while absorbed in his thoughts. He took a breath, pastes a neutral expression on his face and knocked on the door.