Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Bad Blood
Three or four hours must have passed since the Battle of Hogwarts finally came to an end. The bewitched ceiling above the Great Hall may have showed the sun shining brightly through the clouds, but on the ground, the Malfoys were still surrounded by darkness.
The majority of the injured witches and wizards had been taken to what was left of the hospital wing or they had been sent to rest in spare dormitories, but some of the casualties remained, sitting huddled together in groups, wearing matching expressions of shock and disbelief, several arms and legs bearing cuts and bruises. Every so often, one or two pairs of eyes would flicker uncertainly towards Draco and his parents, but then whoever was staring at them would quickly turn away and go back to ignoring the three of them.
After what seemed like a lifetime, Draco made a decision. Untangling his arms from his parents' tight grip, he slowly got to his feet.
"Draco..." his mother called out as he started to walk away, her arm stretched out towards him and a look on her face that said she was still terrified of losing him.
He slowed down slightly and turned around.
"I'll be back soon," he promised her, and he knew that he would be. Despite everything that had happened that year, he still loved his parents and he knew that he would never abandon them.
This is the right thing to do.
A strange voice of reason that he had only really started listening to the previous year forced Draco to keep walking as he headed into the Entrance Hall, up the stairs and in what he hoped was the direction of the Gryffindor common room, where he half hoped and half feared that he would find him. He wasn't even completely sure where exactly the Gryffindor common room was located; he had never had any real reason to go there during his time as a Hogwarts student and he doubted he would ever have been welcome there. The rubble that covered the staircases was making his search even more difficult.
After a few minutes of climbing stairs, he hesitated slightly. Did he really want to do this? He hated Harry Potter, didn't he? And why shouldn't he hate him when he had got his father sent to Azkaban, constantly insulted his mother and refused his offer of friendship in first year-
Draco quickly skipped over that last thought. He didn't care one bit that Harry Potter had never wanted to be his friend. He was better than Harry Potter, that's what his family had always told him.
He was pure-blood, he was rich, and he had grown up in the Wizarding World with full knowledge of who he was and who his family were whilst Harry had been sent to live with Muggles, completely unaware of this world until he had been due to start his first year at Hogwarts. Surely all of that counted for something?
Yet only hours ago in the Room of Requirement, Draco remembered gripping onto Harry Potter pretty tight as he flew him away from danger, and in that moment, his feelings of hatred and superiority hadn't seemed to count for anything.
Draco kept walking upwards. This was the right thing to do, the noble thing to do. He was sick of being a coward and sick of being in denial about the events of the past two years.
Try as he might, he couldn't get away from the facts. As the fire blazed through the Room of Requirement, Harry Potter had pulled him on to the back of a broomstick and saved his life. He had saved him even though he had no real reason to do so. There was no ulterior motive there; he didn't expect anything from Draco in return. Unlike Draco, Harry couldn't use the excuse that Voldemort had ordered him to keep Draco alive-
Draco stopped his thoughts again. So his story about Voldemort ordering him to keep Harry Potter alive had just been an excuse then? Was he purely trying to protect Harry as he screamed, "Don't kill him!" repeatedly at Crabbe and Goyle?
It seemed so ridiculous, when he put it like that. He hated Harry Potter. But then, if he hated him so much, why hadn't he confirmed his identity to the Death Eaters when he and his friends were brought to his parents' house in April?
He knew it was him. Nobody could miss that scar, especially not Draco, who had bullied him often enough about it. His family would have been forgiven, maybe even rewarded. But he couldn't do it.
Sighing heavily, Draco forced himself to keep walking.
As he walked past a girls' bathroom at the end of a corridor, Draco was reminded of a certain ghost who he had befriended during his disastrous sixth year. He decided that he would try to find her later, if he hadn't already been arrested or chased out of Hogwarts along with his parents.
He still had no idea how he, Draco Malfoy had ended up confiding in someone who had once been a Muggle-born student. At the time, he had blamed a temporary insanity brought on by the immense pressure he was under at the time, but even now he couldn't deny the fact that he liked Myrtle's company. He felt as though she had truly understood the pressure he was under.
As he turned the corner at the end of the corridor, Draco suddenly realised that in his thoughts, he had called Myrtle Muggle-born rather than his usual offensive term for students like her. He shuddered as he thought about what his father would say if he knew.
He was almost certain that he was now in the right corridor. He definitely recognised some of the Gryffindor students who were wandering about, looking confused and exhausted after the battle.
He hesitated again, feeling a flicker of fear as he imagined what could happen. Would all of the Gryffindor students turn on him? Would he be attacked? He hadn't brought a wand up with him and he too was worn out after the events of the previous night. He had no way of defending himself.
But then, what did it matter? He would probably be attacked at some point anyway. Even worse, he thought with a wave of something that was probably sadness, his family would most likely be banished from the Wizarding World as a punishment for their allegiance to Voldemort. He should really do this before any of that happened.
He pushed himself forward through the crowd with a renewed determination and walked headlong into Professor McGonagall. As she turned slowly towards him, Draco was surprised to see that her eyes were bright red as though she had been crying. He suppressed a sneer of disapproval. Draco Malfoy never cried in public. He wouldn't even admit to crying in private, even though he had secretly cried a lot lately, especially after his former headmaster was killed.
His former Transfiguration teacher looked him slowly up and down, a look of both suspicion and annoyance on her face. During his years at Hogwarts, people had looked at Draco Malfoy with admiration, respect or even fear. Now all they seemed to manage was this strange look of suspicion or indifference. What had changed?
Everything has changed, the voice in his head reminded him.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she snapped at him and for a second, Draco felt as though he were back in first year and she had caught him wandering the castle at night.
"I..I w-want to speak to Harry Potter...Professor," he muttered, adding the word 'Professor' as an afterthought to try to get on her good side. What had happened to his voice? It sounded terrified.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Harry Potter is resting, Malfoy. As I am sure you are well aware, he has had a very long night. We all have-"
"Please, Professor, this is important. It won't take long..." Great, now he was starting to sound like know-it-all Granger, being all polite to the teachers.
She stared at him for what felt like forever before she slowly turned her back on him and headed into an entrance tunnel nearby, which Draco assumed must be the way in to the Gryffindor common room.
He moved closer to this hole in the wall, stepping over a ripped portrait that lay on the floor.
The minutes ticked by. He waited. Had McGonagall even gone to find Harry Potter or had she simply walked away from him in disgust? What if she really had gone to fetch him? What was he supposed to do if he appeared in front of him?
Run, one voice in his head told him. Stay! another one shouted even louder.
Before he could think any more about what he should do, he noticed a boy walking slowly towards him through the narrow entrance. He was wearing a jumper with the letter 'H' on the front and an old pair of trousers. His hair was a mess, his face was pale and he appeared to have left his glasses in the dormitory. Maybe that was why there were flashes of disbelief in his eyes as he regarded the person standing a few feet away from him.
Seconds later, Harry Potter emerged on the landing, stopped and stood facing him.
Draco desperately tried to bite back about a thousand insults that he could throw at him about his dishevelled appearance and he quickly covered up the sneer that had started to form at the corner of his mouth.
He knew that Harry had noticed something though as his hand flickered almost unconsciously towards the pocket of his trousers where he usually kept his wand, but at the last minute he seemed to think better of it and he moved his hand back.
The two boys stared at each other, the confusion that Draco felt mirrored on Harry's face as Draco tried to force himself to speak.
"Did you want something?" Harry asked him.
He saved your life, the voice told him.
Draco lifted his head slightly and looked Harry right in the eye.
"Thanks," Draco said quietly, struggling not to look down at the floor.
Harry looked at him, the surprise evident in his green eyes.
"Thanks," he said back to him after a few moments, although Draco didn't know what Harry Potter was thanking him for.
Draco slowly lifted his right hand and held it out to Harry, who looked at it hesitantly. He stared at Harry even more intently, his palm outstretched, hoping that he would understand.
This wasn't the same as the handshake that he had offered him back in first year. Back then, it had been an invitation to come and join his gang, to help give them a bit of status due to his fame and to help them to bully students who they saw as inferior to themselves.
Now it was an invitation not of friendship (perhaps there was too much bad blood between them for that to ever be a possibility), but rather an offer of some sort of understanding between them, an offer of acceptance of what had happened during the battle and a vow to move forward into the future without all of the hatred of the past.
Eventually, Harry lifted his arm.
Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter shook hands.