It had been years since the war, but still, Draco heard those screams and saw those pale dead faces again and again each night. Every night he relieved those excruciating moments, feeling regret and horror washing him down. And every nightmare later he would clutch Astoria's hand just to feel the warmth of a living soul, who was so pure and good. And tonight was no different when he grabbed at her hands and sweat broke out his skin.

"Again?" she whispered.

"Yes," his mouth was dry and his throat was tight, but he turned to her looking at her to erase those awful memories haunting him albeit temporarily. She smiled at him,

"Do you remember what day it is?"

Dawn was creasing the skies when he shook his head. She chuckled and with dancing eyes said,

"Scorpius's first year at Hogwarts, honey,"

"I almost forgot." He smiled remembering his son, his sweet son who was still unaware of the crimes committed by his father. It would remain that way. He had no intention of telling Scorpius anything about the past. HE would never break his son's heart.

And so as he woke up and got ready of the day, he hoped again as he did every day, that he would be a better father than Lucius Malfoy had ever been to him.

"Harry Potter's second son is to leave for Hogwarts too," Astoria murmured as Draco turned to watch the Potter family stroll along. The familiar red Hogwarts Express puffed smoke as they passed the Malfoys. And Harry nodded at Malfoy who nodded back. The red headed Weasleys were right behind and the two happy families passed them chattering jovially. For a moment looking at the Potters and the Weasleys, Draco wondered how joyous it could be if he could have joined them in their jokes and shared mischievous stories over dinners and perhaps even play Quidditch again and fly up. After Crabbe had died, he closed his eyes in pain; Goyle had gone abroad with his family "somewhere in France". Draco was lonely and he felt it screaming at him more than ever when the train blew its whistle and Scorpius stepped in the compartment waving goodbye at them.

"Malfoy," a voice said. Draco had been watching the red dot of the train speeding into the horizon. He turned to face the whole Potter-Weasley family looking at him.

"Potter, Weasley," Malfoy said. HE could have added something insulting and demeaning but he was too tired and too anxious about his son to really care. Harry Potter hadn't changed a mite, with his shabby black hair and brilliant green eyes. But Draco's eyes went up to the scar that was still there. An uneasy omen.

"Do you have dreams Malfoy?"

"He has nightmares, every night," Astoria murmured more to herself but in the unusual quietness of the platform everyone could hear her and she gripped his hand more of an apology. Draco sighed. He expected Harry to laugh, Hermione to criticise and Ron to say something sarcastic. HE expected George to punch him and Bill to thrash him. HE expected Fleur to curse I French and Ginny to hex him. He stood silent remembering ll the deaths he had cost, if only he had told Dumbledore, he could've prevented any of this from happening. Dumbledore could've made plans, called in favors and done so much to prevent theses deaths.

But Harry said nothing. He simply offered his hand and Malfoy took it and finally they became friends. Something that should've happened long ago.