The war was long over, but it had left its mark on the wizarding world nonetheless. People were exhausted from cleaning up the mess, the destroyed homes, broken families and loose Death Eaters still terrorizing at random. It took too many good people to early graves, and grief weighed down everyone.
I was tired too, the great Harry Potter. People still called me this, though when I got stares in the streets they no longer contained looks of gratitude. Maybe it was my fault, like the whispers suggested, but I gave up thinking like that a long time ago.
I had no job, but that didn't mean I just sat around doing nothing. For instance, on this particular day I was taking Toby to the park. Sounds silly, perhaps, but I was not a child expert by any definition. Perhaps I should have let Molly take care of Toby, but with Ron gone and Hermione's last wish that I take care of him, I didn't have much of a choice.
So I did a quick spell to change my hair colour (people were easily fooled when they wanted to be) and left, Toby trailing behind me. It was a nice day out. Once we arrived, I sat on a nearby bench and allowed my mind to wander off while Toby was swinging back and forth, or perhaps building a sandcastle.
"Hello, Potter," a familiar and unwanted voice said.
I sighed, but replied as politely as possible, "Malfoy." We sat in silence after that. I could attempt to describe the silence as either companionable or awkward, but I didn't see the point as they were equally quiet, which is really the main point of a silence.
Toby ran over to me and climbed into my lap. I smiled at him and we sat for a few moments longer before Toby stood and began to walk away. "Malfoy," I said again, this time in farewell, before standing myself and accompanying Toby home.
Malfoy followed. To other people, we might have looked like an odd line of strangers: A young boy with flaming red hair and a clever face. A man, tired and worn-out, his eyes void of emotion. Finally, there was a third man, this one with a surprising hair colour and the air of a person who thought himself fairly important.
We reached my porch steps. "May I help you with anything?" I asked politely, though truthfully I was getting rather tired.
"Potter," he paused momentarily before continuing, "I'm going to tell you the truth because I know you wouldn't believe anything less. Simply, I owe you for my life, and I want to pay you back."
"I didn't. You're not in any debt of any sort to me. Now please, I must be going," I replied, rubbing at my forehead delicately. I felt the start of a headache coming on.
Malfoy sighed, but seemed to accept this answer and he left. At least, he started to walk away, before Toby spoke up. "I would very much like it if you would stay for tea," he said suddenly and seemingly without motive. Malfoy turned and glanced at me. I nodded my head slightly, confirming the invitation. I felt it necessary because Toby said so little, that when he asked for something it must be important.
And that's how I ended up drinking tea with Draco Malfoy in my living room. To say the least, it was a peculiar situation. At least the day could not get any stranger, I thought to myself then. If I knew how wrong I was at the time, I probably would have laughed.