Draco was trying hard to focus on Harry's voice, but it was hard. He thought about what happened at Gringotts, and then he wasn't. He realized that Harry was holding his hand and squeezing it, in a very affectionate way. Unbidden memories decided to suddenly summon themselves into the forefront of his mind. It was a tangled mess of his train of thought, but it was clear what he was thinking about as the memories came waves.
                              
Flash. Harry was standing up to him on their first train, eleven and glorious. Flash. Harry was flying on his broom, next to him as they raced toward the snitch. Flash. Harry was coming to rescue him in the fire, his eyes brilliant and hellbent on saving him. Flash. Harry was saving him at the trial, rescuing him from a different kind of fire. Flash. A blurry memory-imposed Harry was lying next to him this morning under his bed, holding him, so he didn't feel alone. Oh crap.
                              
Harry interrupted his reminiscing, "You heard the Auror's voice, and you turned. You looked at him."
                              
Draco thought, Right, the Auror. He recalled how the Auror looked and what he said. Then focused the mob gathered, getting hit with the spell and then blackness, amongst the cacophony of sounds.
                              
"Remember what he said after you were beaten, too. When you think you have it all, squeeze my hand."
                              
Draco was about to do it, when, at the last second, a forbidden memory of one of those "It's-the-end-of-the-world" nights where Theo and Blaise convinced him to join in on a three-way with them. Why die a virgin? was their method of persuasion and it was a valid one. He squeezed his hand, unsure of what went through.
                              
"Alright, got it," Hermione announced, and Draco trembled, worried about what Harry was about to see.
                              
"I'll go use the pensive," Harry declared.
                              
"Just you?" Draco verified, unable to keep the nervousness out of his voice.
                              
"Yes, I'll be back in a few," Harry said and squeezed his hand reassuringly, before letting go. Draco heard him go to the den.
                              
Granger cleared her voice, and he hadn't realized that his head had followed the sound of Harry's steps to the den. He turned back to her, and she asked, "So, what did you and Ron talk about while we were in the memory?"
                              
"Clearing the air, right, Draco?" Ron answered.
                              
"Yeah, though I think he's crazy to want to."
                              
"I don't think so, but there's something we do need to discuss. Accio bag!" she said, and it came from wherever. "I need you to sign this form."
                              
He straightened up. "Form?"
                              
"Yes. You can wait for Harry to get here, but it gives me Durable Power of Attorney to act in your stead in civil and legal proceedings."
                              
That was a big responsibility and dangerous, though he had nothing to worry about protecting. "Why you?"
                              
"Because Harry hates reading, writing, and talking to people. Also, I can provide on-the-spot answers and decisions. I know it's a lot to ask, but I...."
                              
"Where do I sign?" he uttered.
                              
"Oh..." Granger said, surprised by his compliance. "Yeah, right here." She guided his hand to a spot.
                              
Draco was sure that it wasn't as pristine as his etiquette tutors would have liked, but near enough. Then she had Weasley witness it.
                              
"Alright, I'll get that submitted to Gringotts. I'll be able to file some things, now. Those laws prohibited a lot of your rights, but with me as your legal proxy, so to speak, I have no such limitations."