AUTHOR'S NOTE: Professor Flitwick's Prompt of the Day "Water Under The Bridge"(Friday July 9th)

Draco walked in through the door of the Eeylops Owl Emporium and heard the tinkle of the chime hanging down from the frame. The shop was small and dark and he did not like being there at all. He always felt someone was watching him intently whenever he stepped in, which was not often. Today was one of those rare occassions which he could not avoid. Scorpius had fed his owl celery off his lunch, and the owl had fallen sick. Now, Draco had no intention of coming to Diagon Alley where people stared at him as if he were hiding a Dementor under his cloak, just to get an antidote for him. But Eeylops didn't deliver by owl (which Draco thought was pretty ironic with hordes of owls sitting idle day after day) and Scorpius must have written an exaggerating letter to his mother.

Between Astoria's constant nagging and getting ogled at in Diagon Alley, he'd choose the latter. However, he could not understand why Astoria did not come and share his (mis)fortune with him. Perhaps, she was embarassed. Draco understood.

He knocked on the teak tabletop of the counter, he wanted to get it done and over with as soon as possible. The owls were eerily staring at him and nothing was more unsettling than about a hundred pairs of unblinking eyes following your every move. It reminded him of his month in Azkaban, only then he couldn't see the Dementors' eyes but knew they were there, boring their stares on his back, when he was huddled in the corner of his cell.

A small door at the back of the store opened and a very short, old man came up to the counter.

"What can I get you?" the man grunted.

"My owl ate some celery, and it fell sick," said Draco.

"What kind of owl?"

Draco racked his brain- indeed, what kind of owl had he bought? "An Eagle Owl, I guess."

"Which doofus gives an Eagle Owl celery?"

Apparently, my son, Draco thought. "Do you have an antidote or not?"

"Of course, I have. Haven't been running this place for years for nothing, have I?" the man sounded distinctly angry, and disappeared behing a rack mumbling to himself.

Draco's eyes drifted over to the different residents of the shop. All the owls looked very alert for creatures who have been stuck in this coop for God knows how long.

There was another tinkle of the chime by the front door, and Draco heard a round of voices.

"-I said I will not comment, now, which part of it do you not understand?"

"But what are the methods you are trying on him? Will he be executed?"

"Just leave, would you?"

"We will, sir, shortly. Just tell us, what you think is the proper punishment for former Death Eaters?"

At this, Draco turned around. Sure enough, three men were arguing at the door, while a little girl was tugging the sleeve of one of them.

Harry Potter had entered the shop, and on his trail were a reporter and his photographer. Lily Potter, the youngest of the family was nagging her father about a tiny Snowy owl, while senior Potter was busy shoving off the other men.

Suddenly, Draco thought of Apparating, right from the middle of the shop only to be stopped by a tiny voice.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy! Are you here to buy the antidote for Scorpius' Sophocles?"

Immediately, Draco felt all stares shift to his face- Harry Potter's, the reporter and his photographer's, the owls' and even the shopkeeper's.

"Yes, Lily," said Draco, his eyes fixed very deliberately on the red-headed Potter.

Probably a few seconds passed when everybody wondered what to say next, and apparently, the reporter reached apprehension first.

"Miss Potter, you know Draco Malfoy? The former Death Eater, who testified against half the clan?"

Draco drew a sharp breath. His eyes were still on Lily, who bit her lip.

The reporter was now talking to Harry Potter. "Sir, as the Head of the Auror Office, what do you have to say on having to let your children study in the same school with kins of Death Eaters?"

Draco did not know how to react. It was not as if The Boy Who Lived (Twice) hadn't been asked this before, it was not as if he hadn't given a very diplomatic answer of second chances and new world and whatnot, it was not as if this was the first time Draco felt he was better off in Azkaban than tolerating the poorly disguised insults everyday, it was not as if his pride was not trampled on till the remains were swept away by tides of self-pity. But somehow, it felt worse, and maybe it was because the episode was taking place in front of a little girl who would give their kind a clean slate. Draco knew Lily Potter was not biased about Scorpius' ancestry, but the whole world, it seemed, was intent in overriding their minds with precocious warnings.

Harry Potter was repeating what he had said in countless occasions and Draco decided he would relieve himself and just walk out. He could always send someone to get the antidote. Who that someone would be, he did not want to think right now.

He nodded at Lily and tried to force out a smile, but he knew his face would twist into a half smirk, and he reserved that for adults only. So instead he bade a quiet goodbye and made towards the door.

While the reporter was busy trying to worm out answers from Harry Potter, the photographer clicked a shot of him.

"What is that for?" asked Draco, exasperated.

"Oh, the world needs to know there are Death Eaters lurking at every corner of the average shops. We have a responsibilty to warn the innocent shoppers," said the man, with a very vicious smile.

And then it happened. Draco lost his judgement in the face of anger. He curled up his fist and brought it down with bone-crushing force on the man's face.

In the chaos that ensued in the following minutes, the reporter and the photographer stumbled out of the shop, shouting things like 'Death Eater out to strike again', 'Be warned- Dark Lord's follower on the prowl' and florid profanities, Lily started sobbing and the owner of Eeylops literally hustled him out of the shop.

Draco was still reeling and walking towards the deserted Knockturn Alley to Floo to Malfoy Manor, when he heard someone call his name.

It was Potter, his daughter by his side. He walked up to him, and there was an awkward silence between them while they both measured each other up.

Finally, Potter said, "I'm sorry about that- fiasco."

Draco looked at Potter for one long moment. Potter- who had helped the students of Hogwarts who had become Death Eaters get let off with month of Azkaban. Potter who forgave six years of insults, taunts, jeers, dishonesty.

It was his turn.

"It's not your fault," said Draco simply.

He turned and walked away. He had walked a good few yards, when he heard Potter's shout.

"Forgive yourself, Draco. It's all water under the bridge."

Draco did not stop walking.