Harry hadn't had much to do with Malfoy since the incident when they'd both been different ages. Which was strange enough to think about, in that blurry way of something that was many years ago and months ago at the same time (thinking about it too much tended to give him a headache) but these days he found himself thinking a lot more about how his older self would react to things. He found himself imagining a more easygoing man, who kept his home and work life separate, who was comfortable going to sleep unarmed, who didn't draw his wand on every unfamiliar sound. He liked the idea, but how he was going to get there was the question. He'd been particularly on edge ever since coming home to find Barty Crouch in his living room. Perhaps Ginny had never been in real danger, but the boy was recovered now and probably just as dangerous as Harry feared, even with Rodolphus gone. He knew he couldn't make his whole family come live in their house so that he could protect them. That was ridiculous. But it didn't stop him wanting to do it.
Perhaps a night of sociability would be good for him. That was Ginny's argument anyway. She wanted to go, and while it made Harry a little uncomfortable to accept the invitation (it really felt like his invitation was one of those sent out of unavoidable politeness) he thought it would probably mean something to his kids, and Po, if he did.
He relaxed almost immediately at the lights and decorations; he found himself strangely reminded of his own wedding reception, which had had to be held outside due to the sheer number of people invited (again... unavoidable). It was totally divergent from his one lasting impression of Malfoy Manor - a memory that unfortunately never be anything other than crystal clear in his mind - and that was good.
He made his way over to pay his respects to the host, after losing Ginny temporarily in a cluster of other redheads. "This is really amazing," he said, holding out an affable hand.