Draco Malfoy stood proudly on Platform 9 and ¾ with his son for the first time. Draco had not been here since his school days and with his parents, things were different. There was no smiling or laughing or joking. Everything was serious, it was business. Not following in his father's footsteps was a ludicrous idea. He was expected to be top of his class, in Slytherin of course, and be the most popular boy among his housemates, proud to be a pureblood and sneering at those of lesser blood value. He wasn't proud of the way he acted during those days.

He looked at the bright scarlet engine and then back down at his son. Scorpius, his eleven year old son, stood rather tall and slender for his age with a head full of messy blonde hair and bright green eyes. The boy looked up at him with a grin as his bloody barn owl squawked.

"Daddy, why couldn't Mommy come?" He asked, sticking his fingers into his owl's cage and petting his tail feathers. Draco sighed, running a lazy hand through his hair.

"She had to work buddy. The Ministry doesn't make many exceptions." For a Malfoy. He added mentally. Even though it had been so long since the Wizarding War's end, the Malfoy name was still tainted from his father's involvement in it all.

Scorpius looked dead ahead at the train, his eyes sparkling with awe and wonder. He had made Draco read Hogwarts, A History to him every night before bed ever since his letter arrived and was eager to board the train and eventually be sorted into a house. Suddenly, fear struck him.

"Oh no Father…" He trailed off, his green eyes shooting back up to meet his father's gray ones. "You don't think I'll end up in Hufflepuff! I think I'd rather die, wouldn't you?" He said, panicked and reminding Draco very much of his younger self and chuckled.

"Oh definitely." He agreed with a grin. He rested his hand comfortingly on his son's shoulder. "I don't see you ending up in Hufflepuff, but any house will be glad to have you. The sorting hat will put you where you belong." He said with a smile. Scorpius looked up at his father and sighed.

"I don't think you belonged in Slytherin, Dad. You were misplaced." He said truthfully. Draco's heart sunk. It meant a lot that his son thought that really.

Just as he was about to reply, he was distracted by the glimmer of a pair of round glasses on the face of none other than scar-headed Potter. There he was, the boy who lived, successfully capturing the attention of nearly everyone on the platform. Draco smirked, seeing Ginny Weasley walking with him, and then two sons and a daughter. It seemed as if only the eldest son was boarding the train this time.

Draco watched the man he had always seen as his enemy and for once, finally seeing him as just the famous boy from their school years. Harry seemed to feel his eyes on him because he glanced over in his direction and looked at him questioningly. And to that, Draco smiled genuinely and nodded, letting him know that all was well between them. Harry smiled brightly back at him.

Scorpius began to pull on Draco's coat excitedly. "YOU know Harry Potter?" He asked in a rush. Draco laughed at his son. Only with him was he ever like this. Around others he was quiet, reserved, and rather suave to Draco's surprise.

"Yeah. Went to school with him. We were sworn enemies." He said absent-mindedly before finally looking back down at his son.

"And now?" He pressed. Draco smiled.

"And now, nothing. All is well between the Potters and the Malfoys." He replied as the train whistled. Draco rushed his son onto the train, waving goodbye until he was completely out of sight, something his own father never did.

As the train rode off into the distance, Draco stuffed his hands into his pockets and smiled, turning to exit the platform, he almost ran straight into Potter.

"Malfoy, hi." Harry said, offering his hand with a grin. He seemed to have run into him on purpose. Draco looked at him, puzzled.

"Hi…" He said slowly, taking his hand and shaking it. Harry seemed very amused by the whole situation.

"I wanted to hand this off to you. It's rightfully yours anyways. I'm just sorry I didn't get it back to you sooner." He handed Draco a small parcel. With narrow eyes, Draco unwrapped the gift before his eyebrows shot up in surprise. It was his old wand, the one he had gotten at Ollivander's when he was just eleven years old. The one that Harry had forced from him even after he had saved him and his friends from being killed by the Dark Lord.

"T-thanks…"Draco stuttered before straightening back up. "I always loved this wand." He said with a swish of it, the lights flickered and blinked playfully, causing Potter's daughter to crack up in laughter and dance about the platform. Draco smiled.

And with that, both men shared that curt nod and went their separate ways off the platform. Potter had confirmed the truth he had told his son earlier, all really was well.

Late that night, Draco laid on his bed, flicking his old wand around as his wife slept soundlessly beside him. Suddenly, a light tapping on his window made him jump.

"Lumos." He whispered, swishing his old wand. It was an owl, Scorpius' owl. Draco walked silently to the window and opened it, petting the silly owl on the head and taking the parchment from his leg.

Dear Mum and Dad,

Hogwarts really is as magical as you said it would be! Headmaster McGonagall is awesome, I don't know how you disliked her as a teacher, Dad. I've already met some new friends, including James Potter(Harry Potter's son) and Rose Weasley(who claims that her parents knew you as well Dad). At first, neither had nice things to say to me, but since the sorting, we seem to have been getting along really well. Rose says the sorting hat never lies, just like you did on the Platform. Oh yeah! I forgot to tell you, I was sorted into Gryffindor, Guys! But I promise I won't be mean to Slytherins, because my hero is a Slytherin. Thanks for everything Mum and Dad. I hope I've made you proud!

P.S. I better have made you proud considering I wasn't sorted into Hufflepuff!

Your Son,

Scorpius

As Draco finished reading the letter, he sniffed, his eyes filled with tears as he sat on the edge of his bed. Tears began to roll down his smiling face. His whole life had consisted of bad choices laced together with mistakes of his wrong-doings, but this letter…this single piece of parchment from his son, let him know that for the past eleven years, he'd finally done something right.

And all was well…