I was a coward. I hated him, and yet I had every reason not to. Harry Potter, that name made me convulse. I knew I owed him nearly everything, I knew I was not capable of murder, I knew I was easily frightened of the Dark Lord.

Ever since that day in first year when Potter had denied my friendship, there was no way I could ever like him. I was an evil person at heart. I did things for personal gain, just to be on the winning side, to be on the side that would permit me to live. Potter and his friends saved my life twice in one night. It was such a frightening night. But I never knew how much my parents would sacrifice to find me.

I'm not a murderer, but on that night I did things befitting of one. I killed the Creevey boy. Shortly after Potter's friends rescued me from the Room of Requirement, I was up and running when the sixteen year old Creevey came running towards us at break neck speed. He was throwing hex after hex, and I remembered that one spell that Potter cast on me the previous year,

"Sectumsempra!" I bellowed. Luckily when I had been hit with the curse, Snape had arrived in time to clear me up. For Creevey, all he could do was bleed to death on the ground, for no one would pause in the crazed battle to fix his wounds. Especially when their lives were in hot pursuit. I felt sickened knowing exactly what I had done, but I did not know of anything so powerful and full proof that would prevent Creevey from getting right back up again, and I hadn't the heart to use Avada Kedavra. Though, I should have. It would have been a lot less painful for him.

By the time I raced downstairs, I saw there had been a cease in battle. Gratefully I dropped to the floor, exhausted. I looked around for Goyle but could not spot him. I saw the students, crying over their dead and injured. I cast a disillusionment charm on myself, knowing if I were spotted they would kill me. It took every ounce of will power not to cry, as I saw the bodies being lugged to the Great Hall. I felt as though time was on fast forward. Everything was happening too quickly before me. The walls reverberated as we heard The Dark Lord's voice. Telling everyone, his or her hero: Harry Potter was dead.

My stomach gave a great lurch forward. I hated Potter, but the fact remained that he saved me, not once, but twice in one night. I knew with him dead, life would possibly be easier for me. I was on the winning side. Should Potter have won, the Death Eaters would have been punished. I still wanted to cry. I knew what fairness was, and it had not treated Potter well. I stayed curled up on the floor. I was seventeen, already a man, but I felt like a child.

Finally I walked out to the school grounds. I felt nauseated as I saw Hagrid carrying him. I didn't feel anything, I couldn't hear anything, it seemed as though my only working sense was my vision, and it all seemed to pass in slow motion. I could see Neville being lit aflame, and then as though sound got turned back on… I saw Potter disappear.

Now I heard everything go back into action, the ricocheting of spells, and fighting amongst everyone. I realized my disillusionment charm must have worn off as I felt myself being hit with a body bind. I fell to the ground, stiff as a board. I looked about as everyone ran and shouted, quite overlooking those who had fallen. Then I sensed the sweet ever-present smell of my mother. It was her natural scent, no matter how many other dirty odors had overtaken her. She quickly lifted the spell on me, and hugged me close. My father came running shortly after. The three of us stood there, our desire to fight was non-existent. Nobody bothered shooting curses at us, as we were so virtually motionless that they did not give us a second thought.

I must have passed out, as I remembered no more. I felt so utterly hopeless. My feelings were such a nuisance, my lack of tears caused my eyes to burn, and I found myself locked away in my room for long periods of time. I knew the Death Eaters were upset with my family; especially my mother who had said Potter was dead. I knew my aunt Bellatrix was murderous; she had loved the Dark Lord like she had never loved anything else.

But now, time has passed since. I look at my boy Scorpius, he's such a beautiful child. Pink cheeked and fair hair. I look at my raven-haired beauty of a wife, Arabella. They are the ones whom I now live for. Scorpius has just received his letter, and he is positively ecstatic to be going to Hogwarts. He has a complete Slytherin mindset: ambitious, determined, and very manipulative in his young manner. Despite all that he is pure of heart, and charming. It takes more than evil to be a Slytherin. I never really understood the bad name Slytherin had, for there are Slytherins amongst the good as well as the bad. But as I kissed my Scorpius goodbye as any embarrassing father would, I caught sight of Potter and his friends.

I nodded to them as a way of greeting, and turned away. I saw Potter's two oldest sons boarding the train, how they resembled him was amazing. The girl resembled Ginevra. Before leaving the station I pulled Potter aside and said,

"I never truly got to thank you for you not only saved me that night nineteen years ago, but if I had died my son would have never been born. Potter, I never liked you, and probably never will, but just let it be known, that I will never enforce rivalry between our children, and hope you will do the same. Let them grow up without the battles of old men on their shoulders." I shook his hand stiffly, before he said,

"Malfoy, you tried to save me once too. You didn't identify us, when you could have. And, I'd like you to know that my second son Albus carries the name of your favorite… and my once most hated professor… Albus Severus." He walked away, as I walked back to Arabella. I felt tears streaming down my cheeks. So much had happened, our lives had changed, everything seemed so easy now in the Dark Lord's absence… but I felt as though there were a missing place in my soul. I missed my youth where I seemed to always have a cause to fight for. Watching the last of train disappearing, I wondered, how would my son grow as a person without the wizarding warfare that had plagued my adolescence. I had been such a coward.

Apparating back into my room, I stole a glance at my old school trunk filled with memories of Hogwarts. Sometimes I felt as though I had dreamt the whole thing, but other times, the memories felt so real and cold against my head. I had been so scared, the year before the Dark Lord passed; he had assigned me to kill off the greatest wizard known. I remembered the threats of death, and the helpless looks of my parents as they watched me fail. I, Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin spent hours crying. The world had seemed so unfair, I knew given a choice between my life and Dumbledore's, I would certainly pick my own, but murder was not one of my instincts.

Arabella interrupted my thoughts as she breezed in. I had never told her the pains of my youth. She had, had her own share of hurt. She was from Durmstrang. The Dark Lord had placed Death Eaters in charge of all wizarding schools. Durmstrang had always been the school with the best repute of knowing dark magic… and although Potter had not resided in Durmstrang… there had still been several outbreaks of mudbloods who had found a way to covet wands. Arabella's parents were firm supporters of the Dark Lord and died in one of the mudblood rebellions. She ceased speaking to anyone since the day her parents died. She was only a fifth year at the time. She went to live with her grandmother who despised her. The grandmother had disapproved of her daughter's decision to support the Dark Lord, and in the end Arabella was the victim of her spite.

Once the Dark Lord died, I was no longer of student age, and sought a quiet job at Hogwarts as potion's master. Arabella enrolled at Hogwarts for her sixth year. She was one of the most brilliant potion makers I had ever seen. I myself was not brilliant, but qualified enough to teach. One day when I had the class make the extremely complex veritaserum, in preparation for their NEWTS, which they would be taking the following year, I passed by Arabella's potion and the pure crystal like quality impressed me. I invited her to stay after class to tell me how she had made such an advanced potion, so well on her first try. But after she was through telling me of the potion, we began talking… and I found myself drinking in every word she said. I was eighteen, she was sixteen… teacher student relationships were strictly prohibited, so those two years I waited for her, and once she graduated we immediately got married. I quit my job at Hogwarts and opened up a potion store, and Arabella started a line of beautification potions.

Arabella softly pushed my hair back off my face.

"Draco, you look troubled." I nodded, but did not answer. Her midnight black eyes gazed into my blue-gray ones, "What's the matter?" I took a deep breath,

"I saw our son board the Hogwarts Express today. And I thought of my own Hogwarts days. And I got worried. People are always eager to fight… I just don't want to see another war. Especially not when our son is growing up. Doing things not because you want to… but because you're ordered to. Arabella… I love you, but I haven't told you a lot of things." I took a breath, and searched her face for a readable emotion. She seemed blank, and waited for me to go on, "Things still haunt me from my teenage hood. I am an evil person Arabella. I murdered. I never wanted to, but I couldn't stop it. The boy I killed was only fifteen, like you were at the time. He was young, and had a whole life ahead. Potter saved me twice on that night. He's such a caring person, yet I still feel hatred towards him. I still feel pangs of jealousy towards his popularity. I feel undeserving… being rescued, then murdering. Arabella, I love Scorpius so much, but if he turns out to be a coward like me… I don't know what I'll do." My face was dampened with tears, as Arabella whispered,

"If Scorpius is anything like you, you should be proud. You're ambitious, determined, and although you have killed… you Draco, are not a murderer. You feel remorse for what you did."

"Yes, I do feel remorse." I cried, "You should have seen the bodies, Arabella. All the bodies being taken to the Great Hall. You should have seen the tears, and blood. It makes me feel sick every time I think about it. And I never want Scorpius to see something like that in his life. And it hurts because I know if the Wizarding world goes to war again, there is no full proof way of protecting anyone… no matter how much we love them."

So I told Arabella everything I had ever done. And as I finished, tearstains fading away, I saw Bret, Scorpius's owl pecking upon the door.

"Dear Dad, I'm in Slytherin. I'm so happy. My dormitory is so cool; I share it with four other first years. Everything is so big here, and I met the Bloody Baron! You weren't kidding after all!!! He's kind of scary at first, but then you talk to him and just know he's insane! Dad, I wish you could be here. I met Harry Potter's son! You know, the guy that killed the Dark Lord? You went to school with him, didn't you dad? I wish you 'd told me more about that. He's cool, and both of his names are after headmasters! He told me his whole name, and I was reading a list of headmasters and they were both there. Some parts of this school are scary. There's this huge wall that they have. It's so sad, and scary. It has all the names of people who died in some sort of battle that happened at this school. I looked at it; there are an awful lot of names. Isn't Vincent Crabbe, the son of Granddad's friend? He died there. I can't wait to start classes tomorrow. We got our schedules a little early, and I have potions first thing! I hope I'm as good as mom. Actually I want to be top in all my classes. Then I have defense against the dark arts. And then I have charms, then herbology. I heard about quidditch try outs. The Slytherin quidditch captain says no first years, but I want to be a chaser, and I know I can do it… so I'll try out anyway. It's so exciting… and I wish I didn't have to end this letter, but the prefects are calling for lights out. So good night dad, I love you so so so so so so so so much! And tell mom that I miss her infinitely, and that a lot of the girls I know all use her potions. Love,

Scorpius"

I folded up the letter, and smiled. My boy, my beautiful boy. My young, innocent, pure hearted, ambitious little boy.