Healing
I dunno... I was doodling. Then I drew Draco, Harry, Hermione, and Ron on a stage, Draco in front of a podium. And it inspired this.
What: 1st Anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts
Date: May 2, 1999
Location: Ministry of Magic, Ballroom
Time: 5:00 pm - 12:00 am
Special Speakers: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Ronald Weasley
RSVP: Miranda Holdrift, Department of Post-War Relations
Formal dress
Dinner and Gala
1 extra guest per invitation permitted
Draco couldn't believe he agreed to this. Of course, the entire Golden Trio on your back is hard to refuse. So here he was, about to speak to the whole Wizarding community about the war. The war had hurt them all, especially him, a known Death Eater. Everyone knew his rank, and he agreed to speak. Bloody Gryffindors.
He looked at his note cards. Two different hand writings were covering the parchment. Granger had helped him write them. The second and third cards were ripped in half and messily taped (what an odd Muggle device, tape) back together. Draco had gotten frustrated and torn it, but Potter had fixed it when the blonde had cooled down. And Draco had rehearsed with Weasley, who actually was good at voice coaching: volume and projection and such. Must be all the screaming he does.
And now Draco was ready... Mostly. There's no turning back now. He sat the second of four chairs on the huge stage. Potter was standing at the podium, Weasley, Granger, and Draco were sitting down in their chairs. Draco could feel himself jittering a bit nervously. He was speaking second.
"I'm not the best speaker, Potter," he had told the Boy Who Lived. But Potter insisted that he go up, saying that having him speak would show his support. And having the Boy Who Lived and his Golden Trio as your friends wouldn't really hurt, either...
Potter was just finishing up. He had talked about how the war had taken its toll on everyone. That a new age had come. Draco believed him. After all, he is friend with the Golden Trio now. It truly is the start of a new era.
He took a deep breath and walked past Potter to the podium. "Good luck," the bespectacled boy mouthed. Draco gave him a slight nod and tapped the microphone. Funny device—it made the voice louder without magic. Granger insisted they use it.
"H-Hello everyone," he stuttered, eyes flicking from the crowd, to his note cards, then back. "My name is Draco Malfoy. We are all here to... to celebrate the... the... happiness and joy of the War being... over, and..."
Encourage unity within our community, Granger mouthed.
Screw it, Draco thought. He took his note cards and threw them behind him, much to Hermione's chagrin.
"Look," he started again, regaining some of his old Malfoy determination. "We've all made our mistakes, in life and in the war. I was a Death Eater. So what? I made a mistake. Worst mistake of my life, actually. But here I am now, speaking at a celebration gala with the Golden Trio! The war is over, but that doesn't mean that we should keep old disagreements standing. With the end of this war should come new era, an era of peace, unity, togetherness. Pureblood supremacy is all just a blinding, thick fog over our community. We need to work together to lift it.
"I know it's hard to let go of something you've held on to for so long, but look where it's gotten you. Muggleborns are just as good as purebloods or halfbloods. Take Hermione Granger for instance. She's the damn smartest witches I know, and is SHE a pureblood? NO! She is a muggleborn witch, and the bloody smartest, prettiest, and damn amazing person I've ever met.
"We need to realize that there IS no pureblood supremacy or filthy mudbloods and blood traitors. We, as witches and wizards, were all created equal, and as equals is where we need to stand. It was all just a big mistake, the biggest mistake of the purebloods. The war is over, so let the biggest mistake of our lives fall with it. We don't want to end up like this again, going through another war because of another crazy, Muggle hating psychedelic. Take it from me, this prejudice gets you nothing but grief and pain. Our community is finally at peace. If we intend to stay here, we need a united front—purebloods, halfbloods, and muggleborns! Without unity, we are weak; we are twigs, easily snapped, broken, and twisted.
"I don't expect this to happen right away; that's just naive and unrealistic. Still, we need to take action. This community is healing, but everyone," he paused, taking a deep breath and looking around the room—at Potter, at Weasley, at Granger, and at the audience, "needs to take the initiative to make sure it heals right," he finished with a small sigh.
Silence.
Then, Potter started clapping, Granger and Weasley soon following his lead. The audience joined in, and in no time at all, the room was filled with the thunderous roar of applause. Draco let the faintest of smiles creep up onto his face, glad to have made an impression. It was a small smile, though, so only the Golden Trio could barely see it on his face.
He sat back down with a new sense of accomplishment. He gave an encouraging nod to Granger as she passed by him to recite her speech. Draco was only half listening to hers and barely listening to Weasley's. In fact, Draco almost completely zoned out for the rest of the speeches. He was quickly jarred back to reality with a light punch to the shoulder. He looked up to see Granger standing there, smiling at him. He joined her as they exited the stage to go join the gala-goers.
"You did pretty good, Malfoy," she said a bit sheepishly as they walked. "Even if you didn't use the note cards."
Potter and Weasley half tackled, half punched him from behind. "Yea, that was pretty impressive, Malfoy," Weasley echoed. Potter just nodded.
"Thanks for the compliments, too," Granger added even more shyly.
"Thanks," Draco was finally able to choke out. "You were all a great help. I probably couldn't and wouldn't have done it without you." He stuck his hand out to them, waiting for someone to shake it.
The last thing Draco expected, though, was for Granger to pull all for of them into a big hug.
"Thank you, Malfoy," she whispered in his ear, and Draco should tell it was just meant for him.
Fin