Authors note: The fanfic was first uploaded at AO3, /works/14869994?view_full_work=true but is even there still unfinished.

Every chapter will be from the POV's of Neville, Luna, Harry and Draco (in this particular order)

Pairings are: Neville/Draco ; Luna/Harry

Have fun reading and don't hesitate to give me feedback, even if it is negative. Only then I can learn from my mistakes

The song I listend while writing this chapter is City of the Sun- Intro (The xx Cover); Sofar NYC

Neville

"HUH?"

"Don't 'huh' me, Mr. Longbottom.", Headmistress McGonagall scolded him.

"I'm sorry Professor, but I'm not sure if I understand correctly.", the tall boy said, a hand rushing to his hair, playing with the dark blond locks on his neck. A gesture he couldn't stop doing since he was a sheepish teenager. He still was a teenager, not quite eighteen years old, but he certainly didn't look like that anymore.

Neville Longbottom had grown up over the last year to a man with broad shoulders, large hands which were able to work hard and stubborn blond stubbles on his cheek and chin.
Only his big brown eyes revealed his true age. Although of the war, of all the cruel events he had witnessed, his eyes showing innocence and were kind.

Headmistress McGonagall sighed impatiently, "I'm quite sure that you heard correctly, Mr. Longbottom, but I can repeat it for you."

She folded her hands on the wooden desk.

The summer sun shone through the large window to his right side and brightened the office. Dust danced in the air, twirling around and maybe if Luna would be there, she would tell him something about mystical creatures.
But she wasn't. Luna was at her destroyed childhood home and took care of her father.

It was late June and he and others tried to work together in order to finish the rebuilding of Hogwarts until the next term started. Neville was there to help with the reconstruction and right now he was sitting in a big comfortable chair, listening to the quiet whispering of the portraits at the high walls and starring disbelieving at his former house teacher.

"Mister Malfoy needs a place to stay while he'll help us to rebuild Hogwarts and unfortunately I can't trust everyone.", her thin lips were pressed together and seemed thinner than ever, "But you, Mister Longbottom, have proven to be a man I can trust. Trust that you won't hurt him. Trust that you to do the right thing."

Neville was stunned. He should share is small quarters with Draco Malfoy until the term would start again. He was sleeping in on of the small quarters near the Hufflepuff common room. It had one small window and just enough space to move between the bed and the commode. The room wasn't even big enough for him alone, really. But with Malfoy?

"How do you think this will work?", he asked the older woman in front of him, not unkind, but doubtful, "It's Malfoy we are talking about and you know exactly what he has done! What he has said to me all these years."

Her face softened and for a short moment, she looked like a mother. Very slowly she picked up her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose, "I do understand your feelings, Neville. I really do, but it is time to stop the prejudice and hate. We need to move on and let Voldemort and his gulf in the past."

McGonagall now was looking at him, her sharp eyes bored into him. She had dark circles under her eyes and the lines in her face had deepened. She was exhausted, like him and everyone in the wizardry society.

Tired of fighting, of discrimination and hatred, and he understood.

"I can't force you to help me, but he needs a place in Hogwarts to fulfill his sentence and I'm afraid that some others would see this as an opportunity to take revenge."

Neville knew she was right. Nearly everyone would love to take out their anger and loss on him. And Neville knew that this wouldn't help to start a life after the war. It would deepen the gap between the light and the dark side and it would lead to another war. A war which would destroy everything forever.

"Fine.", he mumbled, ignoring the strong displeasure twirling and twitching in his body, making him feel small and stupid again, "Just...fine, he can stay with me."

At first, it seemed like McGonagall was shocked, she hadn't expected that answer, but then, "Thank you, Neville. I really appreciate that"

She placed her wrinkled hand on his arm for a moment, squeezing it lightly and he just felt that he had done the right thing. That this would be a great step in the right direction.

Soon she stood up and was all business at once, speaking to a portrait, while Neville peered around. The office looked almost exactly the same when Dumbledore was still alive.

Snape hadn't changed much, just some potions ingredients and a small lab in the back.
The portraits were filled, all wanted to see the boy who killed the snake with the Gryffindors sword, whispering excitedly when he looked at them and waved his hand.

However, Snape's dark frame, which held no interesting ornamentation was empty. The former headmaster was probably in one of the abandoned classrooms, brooding over Harry.

Harry had testified that Severus Snape had been one of the good ones. That he had helped Dumbledore and Harry to end Voldemorts regime. And Snape, his portrait, hated it. Hated that everyone seemed to take a liking to him, now that the golden boy had spoken on his behalf. Hated that everyone wanted to talk to him, thanking him.

Neville himself would never thank the potion master. He had made his first few school years to a living hell.

Dumbledore, nevertheless, was in his portrait. He always was, not willing to participate in other canvases like some others did.

The old wizard was sitting on an ancient rocking chair and was smiling radiantly at Neville. He had some wool and needles on his lap and stroke the white beard. Not saying a word.
Neville didn't care about the silence. He had never been close to the old man and he wouldn't know what to answer him anyway.

"The room will be a bit bigger, but only for another bed.", Headmistress McGonagall tore Neville out of his thoughts, "Would it be possible if you could take him with you to the greenhouses? There Mister Malfoy wouldn't be on display for the other helpers and he would be able to work in silence."

Neville shrugged, not really enthusiastic about her request, but even he had to admit that that was the only solution, "If he must, but what if he starts a fight?"

"He won't.", she answered directly.

Neville stood up as well, looking away from Dumbledore how was watching him in earnest, "I don't doubt you, Professor, but it is Malfoy."

"He won't be able to. Mister Malfoy knows what all depends on it.", she slowly opened the door and looked at him.

She was several inches smaller than him and had to look up to him, her head in her neck and Neville felt uncomfortable. Like he should bend his knees so she wouldn't have to crack her neck. Like this was right, he was her student and she was his mentor.

She smiled a small one, the wrinkles moving on her skin like paint on the canvases and said again, "Thank you, Neville. I'm grateful for your understanding."

He nodded, "Natural, Professor."

When he stepped out of the office, feeling McGonagall's hand on his shoulder, he heard a little noise from the wall across from the door.

Two Aurors, bulky and grim looking stood there, talking quietly, but when they saw him and Hogwarts Headmistress, they went to greet them.

"Headmistress McGonagall.", the black haired one said and wanted to shook her hand, "We brought you the prisoner."

And then Neville saw him behind the Aurors.

A lith boy stood there, hands behind his back and face down, handcuffed to one of the men.
The light blond hair was dirty, fell in greasy strands around his pointed face.
The prisoner clothes were more than ill-fitting, far too big for his emaciated body. The bony collarbones peeked out of the grey fabric and he could see the ankles showing under the trouser, which he had the hold tightly, so it wouldn't slide down from his narrow hips.

He wasn't wearing any shoes.

"Mister Malfoy!", McGonagall shouted out and rushed to the boy, who now looked up and watched her in distrust. Under his left eye, on the sharp cheekbone was a dark purple bruise and his lower lip was split, "Dear Merlin, what happened to him?"

"Azkaban.", the other Auror said and smirked haughtily, "What do you think happen to all the follower of you-know-who?"

"But he's just a boy!", she was furious, holding Malfoys thin arm and not even caring that he was filthy and reeking. Surprisingly he leaned on her.

"A Death Eater nonetheless.", the first one growled and stepped a bit closer.

Malfoy flinched lightly and tried to take a step back, but was still bonded, so he stumbled a bit. McGonagall grabbed him, so he wouldn't fall and was whispering into his ear, while the blond shivered lightly. That wasn't Draco Malfoy he had known for years. That was a child, scared like a hunted animal.

Neville had seen enough.

He took a step forward and said, "Remove the handcuffs."

His voice was quiet but deep and threatening. At first, the Aurors merely raised an eyebrow at him, but after the Carrows and the last year in Hogwarts, Neville wasn't intimidated by anyone anymore.

"NOW!", he spoke as calmly as he was able to, folding the arms in front of his chest and revealing the scars of the battle.
And then they recognized him.

"You're the one who killed the snake!"

"Remove the handcuffs.", Neville only repeated and now they obeyed. Neville had experienced over the last few weeks how different the people saw him now. That they respected him, worshipped him, sometimes even were scared of him, because of a simple act of despair. They all saw only the young hero who had spoken against Voldemort and helped to end the war. None of them saw him for who he was.

Neville Longbottom. Herbology loving, soft boy.

After a short flicker and a wave with the wand, Malfoys handcuffs dissolved and he started to rub his wrists in earnest.

"Thank you, Gentlemen.", McGonagall's sharp voice was filling the hall and even Neville winced lightly, "But you can go know. Winky."

A small, elve appeared immediately and bowed in front of the Headmistress.

"Winky will show you the way.", her voice was of steel and Neville knew that they had to fear consequences.

Winky walked down the hall, talking quietly with herself and the Aurors followed her.

"Would you be so kind and inform Madam Pomfrey about Mister Malfoys arrival?", the old witch was now talking to him, while she stepped with Malfoy to her office.

Neville just nodded shortly.

Before the door closed behind them, Neville could see Malfoy looking over his shoulder.

The silver eyes peeked out of dark blond curtains and bored into him.

Malfoy didn't look at him with disgust or anger or even humiliation, but with simple curiosity.

Neville flinched, not sure what feeling was building in his stomach. He slowly turned around, ignoring the still whispering portraits outside of the office and the silent mumbling walls of Hogwarts and went to get Madam Pomfrey.