Author's note: I'll be traveling for some doctor's appointments, coming up, and so won't have reliable internet. So, while there will certainly be another chapter or two, I won't be posting them until at least the first of June. Thanks in advance for your patience!

It was late by the time they said their goodbyes and apparated back to Grimmauld Place in unsteady groups, with the (relatively) sober taking the others side-along to avoid the risk of anyone splinching themselves. So late, that, by mutual unspoken agreement, they all stumbled off to bed, leaving the chatter (and remorse, for those who had drunk more than they ought) for the morning. Harry and Draco stumbled blearily up the stairs together, arms slung around one another's waists – for balance, Draco told himself sternly, nothing more – and into Harry's room. Where they stopped, wobbling slightly, and stared at the bed, singular, in the center of the room.

"Oh," said Harry, frowning. "Um."

Draco snorted. "Moving a little fast, aren't we?"

Harry reddened. "Um. No. Yes. Um." He scrubbed at his eyes. "Bloody hell, Draco. I forgot, OK? I'm sure we can find another bed for you without much trouble. He frowned vaguely around the room, as if he expected a second bed to be hiding behind the dresser, maybe, or in the closet.

Draco yawned, jaw cracking. "I'm sure there's one somewhere. I am, however, far too tired to look for one."

"I can transfigure one?"

Draco thought the questioning tone to Harry's voice quite appropriate. "No, thank you. I don't care to sleep in whatever mess either of us might transfigure at the moment." He sighed theatrically. "No, Harry, I'm afraid I'll just have to sleep in your bed."

"Oh. Right. I'll just sleep over there, then." Harry waved vaguely at the floor on the opposite side of the room, and grabbed a pillow. He grabbed at one of the blankets, next, but overbalanced and nearly fell on the floor. He only escaped that fate because Draco had stepped forward to catch him.

Draco frowned down at Harry. "You'll do nothing of the sort. Honestly, Potter. The bed's big enough. We can share."

Harry hesitated. "I – "

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Harry. I don't bite. Unless I'm asked." He leered at Harry, and Harry reddened further. Draco sighed. "Just get in the bed. I won't touch you without your permission, OK?"

He yawned again, and Harry grinned at him. His grin was spoilt, however, by the yawn that interrupted it. "Right," Harry said. "On three?"

"Three," Draco declared. He and Harry collapsed onto the bed together, in a tangle of limbs, and were asleep before they'd finished sorting themselves out.

----

The house groaned in its sleep, rousing into a wakeful doze, readjusting itself to accommodate the newcomers into its wards, its walls, its floors. Boards creaked and settled as it shifted, breathing in their essences, tasting their magic, reshaping itself into their image. And as it settled back to sleep, it watched them all. And if any of them had thought to ask, this is what it would tell them:

Next door, in the girls' room, Luna twirled lightly 'round the room, folding her clothes and stowing them neatly in the organization scheme only she understood. Pansy sprawled groaning across her bed. "Why did I drink so much?" She didn't expect an answer; she asked this every night they'd been to the Burrow.

Hermione groaned sympathetically from the bed next to hers, yanking at her brush, which had become snarled in her hair. "I don't know, but I'll never drink again."

Luna, who never drank more than a few sips, paused mid-twirl and smiled indulgently at them. "You seemed to enjoy it, at the time. Oh, Hermione, let me get that for you." She floated over to the bed, and shoved at Hermione until she'd positioned her to her liking. She folded herself cross-legged behind her, gently disentangled the brush, and began rhythmically gliding it through the disheveled curls.

Hermione sighed. "Oh, Luna. That feels wonderful."

Pansy snorted, then asked thoughtfully, "Why don't you drink, Luna? I mean, right now I'm inclined to think you've the right idea, but, why don't you?"

Luna tipped her head to the side, birdlike, pausing in her brushing to ponder the question. She hummed thoughtfully to herself. "I'm not sure, really."

Pansy suddenly propped herself up on her elbows. "Oh, Luna," she said worriedly, "I didn't mean to pry – I know you're been through things I can't even imagine, and – "

"It's not that," Luna laughed. "Anyway, it wasn't so bad. And we all went through a lot – it was war, after all."

Pansy made a disbelieving noise, but Luna spoke over her. "I think... I think the best way to describe it, that might make sense to you, is that it doesn't change things for me, as much as it does for you."

"That's true," Hermione said slowly, "you did drink a lot, that one time, and you didn't really seem all that different."

"No," Luna said simply, turning back to her brushing, "and also yes. I mean, It was different, but not the same way I think it is different for you. It was like... like things shifted sideways, and when they settled, the picture was the same, but the colors had swapped. Sort of." She frowned. "Actually, that's not a very good explanation." She hummed in frustration. "I think, what it comes down to in the end, is that I prefer the comfort of my own delusions to ones I might find in a bottle."

Hermione twisted to look at her. "Oh, Luna," she said, grabbing her hand, "I – that's beautiful, and terrible too." She frowned. "If I forget this, tomorrow, will you remind me? Because I think I understand you so much better now."

"Yes," Pansy agreed from her bed, "and I know I won't remember."

Luna made a noncommittal noise.

The House knew that, in the morning, neither of the other girls would remember the conversation. And Luna would never tell. They'd had this conversation, or some variation on it, every time they went drinking. And every time Luna answered differently, as if she were feeling her way toward the truth.

---

In the next room, the boys' room, the conversation was not as deep – in fact, it was nonexistent. Ron, Neville, and Blaise, who'd drunk more, perhaps than anyone else, stumbled to their respective beds and collapsed on them, asleep almost before they landed.

---

Across the hall, Andromeda settled Teddy tenderly into his crib, then smiled at her sister. "Shall I transfigure you a bed, then?"

Narcissa grinned impishly at her. "Actually, Andy, I was wondering if I could just sleep with you tonight. It's been far too long since we've had a good gossip."

Andromeda laughed. "As always, Cissy, you read my mind. Climb in then – I'm dying to hear all about Lucius."

They whispered and giggled long after the others were asleep, and the House wished for a moment that it could smile, for it remembered a time, not so very long ago, when two little girls would curl up together for gossip and giggles. It felt right to have them back again.

---

Next door to the sisters, Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape stared at one another in horror. Try as they might, neither could manage to transfigure a bed that either would deign to sleep in.

"You shall just have to sleep on the floor," Lucius declared unsteadily. "I'm quite sure I outrank you."

Severus stared at him. "You don't outrank me Lucius. That doesn't even make sense. And, anyway, this is my room. I was here first. You will have to sleep on the floor." He stamped his foot in annoyance.

Lucius bridled. "Malfoys do not sleep on floors." He wobbled toward the bed with as much dignity as he could muster.

"What are you doing?" screeched Severus. "That is my bed. Lucius! What are you – get off!" He tugged on Lucius' leg, sending both of them sprawling on the mattress in a heap.

They untangled themselves with difficulty, scowling, neither able to summon the energy to get up.

"We are never speaking of this," Severus growled, "Ever."

Lucius sniffed. "Agreed."

They stared at one another for another moment, then began fighting over the pillows. They fell asleep abruptly, mid-scuffle, in a position that would, no doubt, cause them great embarrassment the next morning.

If the House could snicker, it would have, as it checked the wards one last time, and then settled back to sleep.