This was written for xxx-angelin-xxx of The Patronus Magazine.
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What he had done was wrong. It had taken a long time for Draco Malfoy to realise it, and it wasn't the fact that he had chosen the losing side that had prompted this revelation. It wasn't the loss of his father's power and his mother's influence, nor was it the way that the elite of the old world were the pariahs of the new. No, it was the fact that none of his classmates could look him in the eye.
Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was disgust. Draco didn't know, because they didn't look at him.
No longer did people look up to him. In fact, they didn't even look down upon him. It was almost as though Draco had ceased to exist outside of his own memories. There was only the past to dwell upon, and as the guilt began to sink into him like a knife, Draco found it harder and harder to think about.
What made it worse was that after Crabbe had died, Goyle had shunned him.
For as far back as he could remember, the pair of them had stood behind him like sentinels. They hadn't questioned him. It wasn't the greatest of friendships, but it had been constant, which was more than could be said for a lot of things.
Pansy couldn't look at him. Draco couldn't look at her, either; in her eyes would be a reflection of his own faults and wrongs, and it would be the same for her.
They had tried to comfort one another, tried to pretend that life would continue as always – Draco and Pansy with a glorious future ahead of them – only, neither one of them could pretend. Their innocence was gone. They had to let the past go, and they both knew it, so Draco and Pansy dropped hands and turned away from one another. He had never imagined a future with another woman.
He hadn't been looking for another woman; in fact Draco had given up looking for anything when it had happened. There had been something different about her. It had taken him a few seconds to realise what: she was looking at him. Her eyes were a rather unexceptional shade of blue, and their curiosity was not replaced by anger when Draco continued to watch her.
He could tell that she didn't want to speak to him – she tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear and averted her gaze – and yet he couldn't help but give in to the temptation to approach her.
"I'm Draco." His heart hammered as she looked at him for a second time. Still no anger. "Draco Malfoy."
"I know." A tentative smile began at the corners of her mouth. "My name's Astoria."
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