The weeks before the Yule Ball flew by. Ron and Hermione were thrilled that Harry was going to attend, even under disguise, and so were Neville, Ginny, and Luna when Harry mentioned it to them one evening in Dumbledore's study at Hogwarts.

"Harry, that's wonderful!" Ginny exclaimed, giving him a hug.

"Yes, Hogwarts isn't the same without you," Luna agreed, a smile lighting up her face.

"Have you changed your mind about coming back then?" Neville wanted to know.

"We're still working on him for that," Ron commented.

Harry shook his head at the same time. "No, I'm going to take polyjuice and say that I'm a Weasley cousin come to visit for the holidays and that's how I got an invitation to the Ball."

Ginny gave him a mischievous grin. "I suppose that means we can't snog under the mistletoe then."

Harry stared at her blankly, not sure how to respond. If he had happened to glance Ron's way, he would have seen that his friend also looked a bit non-plussed.

Ginny just laughed. "You should see your face. Don't worry; you're safe from me."

Harry felt himself turning red. "Well, I mean, that would be...okay, I guess."

"Do you mean you want to snog my sister or not?" Ron asked dryly.

Harry looked from Ron to Ginny and back again. "Considering that there's no good way for me to answer that, I think I'll just be quiet now."

The others laughed and while the boys turned their attention to the plate of pastries that Dumbledore had provided for them, the girls discussed dress robes and various hair styles. Harry wouldn't have expected any of his three closest female friends to be so enthusiastic on those topics. Though he thought Hermione, Ginny, and Luna were all very pretty, he had always considered Hermione too much a bookworm, Ginny too much a tomboy, and Luna too out of touch with reality to be concerned with mundane ‘girly' matters.

But when he mentioned that to Hermione as they were leaving, she rolled her eyes at him.

"Honestly, Harry, don't be so narrow-minded."

"Narrow-minded?" Harry had certainly never thought of himself that way.

But Hermione nodded. "You think you have us all pigeon-holed so neatly. But people grow and change, Harry. Just because we're smart and tough and strong, that doesn't mean that we can't enjoy dressing up now and then."

"Well, yeah, I do know that," Harry defended himself.

"In a way it's the same thing as what you've been fussing at us over with Malfoy," Hermione continued.

"Huh?"

"Well, you keep telling us how much he's changed," Hermione explained. "But it's hard for us to see that because for as long as we've known him, he's been a real git and we can't see him any other way."

"But didn't you just say that that was being narrow-minded? That people can grow and change?" Harry pointed out.

"Touché," Hermione admitted. "But as for Malfoy changing, I'll believe it when I see it."

She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Good night, Harry."

She started out the door after the rest of the group, but then turned around. "Oh, and speaking of dressing up for the Ball, you should talk with your father about getting some new dress robes. I'm sure you've outgrown your old ones."

"I'm not," Harry sighed, but she was already gone.

Harry walked on through to the headmaster's office where Dumbledore and Severus were sitting on either side of the massive desk, carefully reading sheets of parchment, hoping to find some clue to freeing Harry from the slavery spell.

He noted tall stack of papers resting a side table, the papers that they had already searched through in vain and repressed another sigh. Severus and Dumbledore had not yet read through all of the archives, but they were getting close to the end and so far there had been nothing, no mention of a slavery curse or how to free someone from any type of forced bond.

It was hard not to feel discouraged.

But Severus and Dumbledore had both promised him that they would not give up, that they would keep searching until they found a way. And if anyone could do it, they could. Harry would just have to try to have faith and to persevere, as his father told him.

But he didn't want to think about the slavery spell right now.

Hermione's words about seeing that Draco had changed had given him an idea. For the past couple weeks Harry had been trying, in vain, to get Draco and his other friends to spend some time together so they could begin to get to know one another. Unfortunately, none of them were being very cooperative.

But now Harry thought he just might have a way to force their hands, Draco's anyway. As for his other friends, well, he'd just have to plead harder with them.

The two men looked up as he entered.

"Ah, Harry, I did not realize it had gotten so late," Dumbledore remarked.

Severus set his parchment aside and started to stand. "We'll see you tomorrow then, Albus."

But Harry held out his hand to stop him and came to perch on the arm of his father's chair.

"Can we talk for a minute first? I need to ask a favour from you both."

Draco had already retired to his room for the night when Harry and Severus returned, but Harry couldn't wait to set his plan in motion so he hurried upstairs to the other boy's room and knocked softly on the closed door.

"Draco, are you asleep?"

"No, not yet. Come on in."

Draco was lying on his bed, in a pair of grey and red striped pyjamas, browsing through his art book.

Harry came over. "Is it all right if I sit down?

Draco rolled his eyes. "Do you ask Weasley for permission to sit on his bed?"

Harry rolled his eyes in return. "No, but that's different. I've been friends with him forever."

Draco's eyes flashed. "How is it different? I thought we were friends now, too."

Harry started to snap back, but then he stopped himself. He thought the flash of emotion in Draco's eyes was hurt and beneath the defensive tone he thought the other boy sounded worried.

So Harry just sat down on the side of the bed and said easily. "Of course we're friends now. We said so, right?"

"You always want to go see them in the evenings," Draco pointed out, the hurt in his voice plainly evident this time.

"Draco, we're friends, but they're my friends too and I only get to see them in the evenings and the weekends," Harry answered quietly.

"Every evening and every weekend is quite a bit of time," Draco responded.

"Well, I used to live with them and be around them all day and all night," Harry told him. He hesitated but then admitted, "Ron and Hermione were my family when I didn't have anyone else."

He wondered if Draco would pick up on the clue he'd dropped about his own miserable childhood and if he were really ready to share that information.

But Draco was thinking of something else. "You're lucky, to have real friends like that." He paused before continuing in a low voice, "I don't think I've ever had any real friends before."

"You do now," Harry responded.

Draco looked at him, his expression somehow bleak and anxious all at once. "I don't know anything about this, you know. I'll mess it all up."

"You're doing all right so far, and if you do mess up, I'll let you know," Harry smiled.

"It'll be too late. I'll do something else to make you hate me."

Harry leaned closer, staring into Draco's silver eyes. "Would you deliberately hurt me again?"

"No." Draco's reply was short, but rang with solemn promise.

"Then we can work stuff out, if there ever is any problem," Harry spoke firmly. He decided that it was time to get back to his original reason for coming to Draco's room.

"But look, I wanted to ask you something. Do you want to go to the Yule Ball?"

"The Yule Ball? Yes, of course!" For a second Draco's face lit up, but then fell again. "But I can't. I don't think Severus and Dumbledore would let me, and...I guess I really don't deserve it, not after everything I've done."

"They said you could go."

"What?" Draco sat up straight. "But how...did you ask them?"

"Yeah," Harry admitted, unsure how the other boy would feel about that.

"But why would you do that?" Draco seemed puzzled.

"Because we're friends," Harry answered.

Draco ran a hand through his platinum hair, actually mussing it a bit, which made Harry grin.

"I don't know what to say," Draco swallowed. "Harry...thank you."

"You're welcome."

They were silent for a moment and then Draco touched his hair again. "Do you think I need a trim?" He leaped off the bed and headed for his wardrobe, still chattering. "And I should check my dress robes; I haven't worn them since spring, and I need new shoes, and..."

"But there is a condition," Harry interrupted.

Draco froze and turned back to him. "What?"

Harry took a deep breath. "You have to hang out with me and my other friends at the Ball."

"What, you mean Weasley and Granger?"

"And Ginny and Luna and Neville, too" Harry told him.

The horrified look on Draco's face was almost comical. "But why? Why do you keep trying to make us all spend time together?"

"Because you're all my friends," Harry said simply. "I care about all of you, and I know that you could all learn to get on...if you'd just give each other a chance."

Draco sighed. "I think you're deluding yourself on that one. Your other friends can't stand me...and yeah, I know they have good reason!" He finished in a fierce defensive tone.

"So apologize to them," Harry suggested.

Draco looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "Apologize?"

"Why not? You admitted that you've treated them badly too."

"Because...I can't. I just can't," Draco blustered.

"You apologized to me," Harry pointed out.

Draco sighed and sat back down on the bed. "That was different."

"How?"

Draco was quiet for a few minutes and Harry wasn't sure if he would answer, but finally Draco said, "I knew, or I was pretty sure at least, that you wouldn't laugh or mock me. They would. And even if I did apologize, it wouldn't do any good. They wouldn't accept it."

"If you apologize, sincerely, I bet you a hundred Galleons that they would," Harry responded.

They were silent for another moment.

Then Harry added, "But you know, even if they didn't accept it, I think you should still apologize...because it's the right thing for you to do."

Draco looked down at his clasped hands, then outside the window at the night sky. When he spoke, he didn't mention apologizing but he did say, "I accept your deal, Harry. I'll go to the Ball and hang out with your friends and I'll try to be nice. But don't blame me if they aren't."

Harry decided that it might be better to just let Draco have some time to think about apologizing, so he grinned at the other boy and then changed the subject.

"Hey, you know about all this art stuff. Tell me about this one." He gestured to a photograph of a portrait on the open page. It showed a crowd of people in a great hall or temple.

"Oh, that one's called The School of Athens. It's a fresco by Raphael. It's in one of the palaces in a place called the Vatican, I believe? Scholars believe it shows all the great Greek philosophers, but it's difficult to positively identify most of them," Draco explained.

"What's a fresco?" Harry wanted to know.

"You really don't know much about art, do you?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "That's why I asked you."

Draco grinned. "You looked a bit like Severus then. Okay, a fresco is like a mural painted on a wall or a ceiling. Usually there are several that are related or show scenes of a story. They were very popular during the Italian Renaissance. Lots of the wealthy nobility and clergy wanted to decorate their palaces and cathedrals with them."

Harry smiled and settled back against the pillows to listen.

***

"I don't know. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. Maybe I should just stay home." Harry nervously fidgeted with his bow tie and peered at his image in his bedroom mirror. It was the evening of the Yule Ball and he was wondering why he had ever wanted to go in the first place. Now that the time had come, staying home and reading a book by the fireplace sounded much more appealing.

"Nonsense. You're going to have a wonderful time. And your tie is fine. Quit fussing," Severus answered. "I'm the one who ought to be dreading the evening, four hours of supervising hyper hormone-driven teenagers. And the music will be appalling. I'm sure to have a migraine by midnight."

Harry gave the bow tie one last twist and hoped his father was right, about him having a wonderful time, that was. Hermione had been...he had outgrown his old dress robes. Not by much, but by enough that Severus had declared he needed a new set. Just that morning Harry had woken to discover that ‘Hedwig' had given him a gift-wrapped box from Gladrags, with black and white tuxedo-style dress robes inside.

Severus was going to attend the Ball as well. Officially he was still a Hogwarts professor, as Dumbledore insisted that he was only taking a leave of absence, and the headmaster had convinced him to help chaperone the Ball. Severus had not stopped complaining, but Harry thought that his father was actually rather pleased to be included.

Though he was not dressed quite as formally as his son, Severus looked handsome in finely-woven black robes with silver and emerald trim.

In spite of his nerves, Harry couldn't resist teasing. "I still think you should tuck that mistletoe into your lapel."

"Have you hit your head recently, Harry? Because I know you would never dare to suggest such a thing while in your right mind." Severus retorted, giving him a mock scowl.

Harry grinned at him, but his smile faded as he looked back in the mirror.

He had not yet taken the polyjuice so the pale reflection was his own. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that he was supposed to be having fun.

Then he turned back to Severus. "Dad, have you got the polyjuice?"

"Just a moment." Severus reached into an inside pocket of his robe, but instead of pulling out a potions flask, he held a small brightly-wrapped present and handed it to Harry. "An early Christmas gift. Open it."

Harry did so and found a small camera inside.

"It's supposed to be a good one," Severus remarked. "I realized that we don't have many photographs of the two of us, and I thought perhaps we should rectify the matter."

"Thanks, Dad. Yeah, we definitely need some family photos." Harry smiled at him and then called more loudly, "Norie! Zan!"

The elves appeared instantly with twin pops. "Yes, Master Harry?"

"Would one of you take a couple photos of Dad and me before we leave?"

Zan took the camera while Norie beamed at them and wiped at her eyes with a tiny handkerchief.

Harry stepped close to Severus and his father's arm slipped about his shoulders. Harry half-turned and met his father's gaze, Severus' dark eyes warm and proud as they looked down at him. Zan clicked the camera and then took several more.

Norie sniffed again and came to pat first Severus' arm and then Harry's. "You both look so handsome. And so do you, Master Draco," she added, glancing towards the doorway.

Harry turned to see Draco standing there, resplendent in his own dress robes, almost identical to Harry's except that the blond boy wore a small white flower in his lapel while Harry's was Gryffindor scarlet.

"Why not take a photo of the three of you together?" Norie suggested.

Draco started to shake his head. "Oh, no, they wouldn't want..."

"Yes, we would," Harry said firmly. "Get over here, Malfoy."

So Draco came over and Zan took another photograph before handing the camera back to Harry.

He slid the camera into his pocket and then turned to Severus. "Dad, the polyjuice?"

"Harry..." Severus and Draco spoke together.

But Harry shook his head. "Please, it's hard enough for me already. Just let me take the polyjuice, please."

Severus sighed but reached into his robe again and handed Harry the flask without another word.

Harry gulped it down, hoping that he might not notice the taste as much if he drank quickly. No such luck, though, the polyjuice was as horrible as always.

A moment later an unfamiliar-looking boy stood before the mirror. A boy who was about the same size, but who had red-gold hair and bright blue eyes, a boy who could pass for a member of the Weasley clan. Harry nodded at his reflection, satisfied that no one would recognize him.

He turned to Severus and Draco. "All right. Let's go."

And the three of them Flooed away to castle far to the north.