"Righting Your Wrongs"
Even though it was really late, Charlie didn't want to go home just then. He may have just worked an eighteen hour shift, but he was still jittery with adrenalin. Instead of walking home like he usually would do to come down from the high, he made a detour to a little out-of-the-way coffee shop that stayed open all hours of the night.
He ordered and took a seat furthest from the door. While sipping on his hot beverage, Charlie let his eyes wander. Many of the usual people were there, sitting in small groups, talking about the wonders of dragon taming.
But what caught Charlie's eye was a lone man sitting alone at the table closest to the door. His eyes roamed the man's feature appreciatively. And the longer he stared at the man, the more familiar he seemed but Charlie couldn't place where he knew him from.
Letting his curiosity get the best of him, Charlie took his drink and took the seat opposite of him. The man looked up with a glare. "Can I help you?" he asked, but Charlie could sense the hostility in voice.
Charlie, however, wasn't going to back down. "I recognize you from somewhere," he stated, as if it answered the man's question. "But I'm not sure from where." When he didn't reply, Charlie tried again. "I'm Charlie Weasley."
"I know who you are," he said flatly.
"That's usually when any well-mannered person would offer their name in return," Charlie informed him. When the mystery man glanced up, his eyes locked with Charlie's and Charlie could see pain and sorrow written there, plain as day. And some part of Charlie sympathized with him while the other just hurt for him.
The man glanced away. "I left my manners at home," he replied sarcastically. "So I guess you're out of luck."
Charlie laughed. "Well, if you aren't going to tell me your name, will you at least tell me why you're here?" he asked.
"I don't know why I'm here," the man finally answered. "I needed to get out of England for a while."
At the mention of England, Charlie automatically thought about The Prophet which was his main source for information about his family. And that's where Charlie recognized him from. The Prophet had been reporting the changes in the Death Eaters' trials. The Malfoys' trial was one of the biggest trials.
"You're Draco Malfoy," Charlie stated as realization flooded his mind.
The person across from him was silence for quite a while. "I am," he agreed. "But, at this point, I would rather be anyone else."
Charlie stared at Draco. "Why?" he questioned. He couldn't help but realize that he let his curiosity get the best of him again.
"The entire Wizarding community hates my family for what we supported," Draco growled. "That's why I got out of England – there have been hundreds of death threats towards my family. Mother and I agreed it would be better for me to leave."
"Do you want to know a secret?" Charlie leaned in closer to him, lowering his voice to a whisper. Draco just stared at Charlie, so he took it as the okay. "They won't always hate you. Over time, the only two names that will matter are Voldemort's and Harry's. They'll forget that the Malfoys were one the wrong side, just like they'll forget the Weasleys were on the right side."
Draco shook his head. "I'll always remember," he informed Charlie. "There are things…" he started to say but broke off. "Things that I've done that can't ever be righted," he whispered softly, almost as if it was his first time admitting it.
Cocking his head to the side, Charlie studied Draco intently. "Do you regret them?" The question was simple, but Charlie knew the answer wouldn't – couldn't – be.
"Yes."
It was one word that spoke volumes with underlying meanings. And with one glance at Draco, Charlie could see how difficult it was for Draco to admit the truth.
Charlie smiled. "I don't think it's impossible for you to right your wrongs. Difficult, maybe; but never impossible," he told Draco.
Again, Draco shook his head. "You don't know what I did. Or you wouldn't think that." he said acridly.
"There's always a reason why you do what you do, Draco. And I'm sure you had your reasons for joining Voldemort. While I don't know those reasons, I know you've learned from your mistakes." Charlie shrugged off the tone in Draco's voice.
Draco looked away from Charlie. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded, his voice heavy with anger and acrid.
Charlie's eyebrows furrowed. "Doing what?"
"This," Draco gestured between them. "Being nice!"
"It might be unusual for you, but some people are just nice," Charlie retorted. "And they don't need reasons to be," he added as an afterthought. Though his coffee has been long gone, Charlie traced the lid with his finger, waiting for Draco to say something.
Draco bit back any response he was going to say. "But you should hate me," he finally argued.
"Hate you for what exactly? For the things that you did in your past? Or because our families are supposed to be rivals?" Charlie narrowed his eyes and his tone was icy.
Draco did not wavering when Charlie glared at him. "Both."
"Well, Draco, I don't think I can," Charlie told him, matter of factly. "Because hating you would require me to judge your actions and your choices, which I can't do that because I don't know you or your choices. As of right now, you're just another face in an out-of-the-way coffee shop too early in the morning."
"What do my reasons have to do with anything?" Draco asked.
"It has to do with everything," Charlie replied. "Because sometimes people make terrible decisions for all the right reasons and other times they make all the right choices for the wrong reasons."
Draco looked down. "You know, you're far too accepting," he informed Charlie.
Charlie shook his head. "I'm not judgmental," he corrected him. "People make mistakes; some mistakes are bigger than other. But you learned from it and that's all that really matters."
Throwing his empty cup away, Charlie left Draco sitting in the little out-of-the-way coffee shop to mull over what he just said.
A/n – This was supposed to be romantic. If you tilt your head fifteen degrees to the right and squint, you might be able to see it.
Written for Gamma's OTP boot camp. Word used: acrid.
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