Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with JK Rowling's series.
A/N: I'm warning you right now... there are DH SPOILERS in this fic. I really feel that some kind of closure needed to occur between the Malfoys and Harry. Obviously, from the epilogue, they are not the best of friends, but I believe a certain respect developed between Draco and Harry after the big battle.
"Potter!" An oddly familiar but unrecognizable female voice whispered urgently near his ear. It was hushed, and Harry thought he had imagined it at first. He continued weaving his way along the crowded walkway of Diagon Alley. He kept his head down, his hands thrust into the front pockets of his blue jeans; a muggle baseball cap hid his face.
He was late in meeting Ron and Ginny at Flourish and Blotts. Ron and he had decided to return to Hogwarts to complete their final year. Hermione had managed to convince McGonagell to take her own NEWTS without returning to school, but both boys knew that they would be unable to cope with their NEWTS without completing the coursework first. In fact, many of the students who would have graduated in June were returning, having had little preparation for careers beyond Hogwarts, since their schooling had been so warped and interrupted by the Death Eaters.
"Potter!" Again, he heard that voice. He stopped and whipped his head around, searching the crowd for something, someone who he would recognize.
He saw Hannah Abbott wave happily to him as he passed her. No, it wasn't Hannah. The voice had sounded almost desperate, maybe even slightly embarrassed to seek him out. Not Cho. She was chatting animatedly to Michael Corner, her boyfriend of over two years.
His green eyes rested on the alley between the Apothecary and Eyelops Owlery. A shimmer of silver and two bright blue eyes glinted in the darkness. Harry approached cautiously, reaching for his wand, which was stuck in his back pocket. Most of the Death Eaters had been imprisoned or killed, but a handful had escaped to the underground of London. Despite the lightness of the atmosphere, Harry wasn't fooled into believing that he was completely safe from Voldemort's former followers.
As he approached the entrance to the alley, he saw a figure of a tall, elegant woman approaching him. As she stepped out of the shadows, Harry breathed in sharply. Narcissa Malfoy had aged ten years since he had last seen her up close at Malfoy Manor less than six months ago. Her long, silver hair hung limply down her back; it had lost its luster and shine. There were dark circles under her sparkling eyes and heavy lines had formed around them.
She glided towards him silently, and Harry's grip on his wand tightened.
"Potter," she said quietly, stepping towards him, her eyes piercing his own. She reached towards him and grasped his left forearm tightly. For a woman who appeared so fragile, she had a strong, firm grip.
Harry waited, holding her gaze. After all, she had called him over. He had nothing to say to her. They stood there for a moment.
"I… I wanted to thank you." Her voice was breathy and so quiet that Harry was not sure if he had heard her correctly.
She closed her eyes, and tilted her face down, away from his. "You… you saved my son. My son… Draco… he told me." She forced the words out, as if they hurt a little to say them. "He told me that you rescued him in the Room of Requirement. He told me that you stunned a Death Eater who was trying to kill him. You saved him… twice. You returned my family to me." Her voice broke. Harry lowered his wand slowly. "I… I… Thank you."
She released his arm, stepped back, and composed herself. Straightening to her full height, her clear gaze found his once more.
Harry nodded his acknowledgement of her gratitude. He didn't trust his voice to speak. Why had he saved Draco Malfoy? He had thought about it several times over the past two months. Perhaps it was because Harry had sensed some remorse in Malfoy for his actions. Draco had seemed very hesitant to hand over Harry, Ron, and Hermione to Voldemort that night long ago at Malfoy Manor. He had only reluctantly admitted that Hermione could have been the mudlbood from Hogwarts. There had been fear in his voice when he had retrieved Griphook from their cellar prison, when he had threatened to kill them. In the Room of Requirement, Crabbe and Goyle were the ones throwing killing curses at Hermione, Ron and him. Malfoy had told them numerous times not to kill Harry, for Voldemort wanted him. Malfoy had been a bully at Hogwarts, but as Dumbledore had pointed out a long time ago on the Astronomy Tower moments before his death, Malfoy was not a killer.
Narcissa tilted her head in farewell and turned away. She stilled as Harry's voice echoed against the brick walls of the alley.
"In the forest that night…would you have told Riddle the truth if I had said that your son was dead?" Harry questioned.
She didn't move for a moment, poised and calm and elegant. Her back remained to him as her voice floated across the space that separated them. "No, I would not have told him the truth. At that moment, there was nothing more important to me than entering that castle to find my son… dead or alive. There was only one way that I would be allowed to enter, and that was to make the Dark Lord believe that he had truly conquered you."
Harry didn't answer her, and after a moment, she resumed her steady pace, to the end of the alley, where she disappeared into the white mist.