Author's Note: I do not own Harry Potter or its characters or anything in the world.
Harry was on his Firebolt, flying around the Quidditch pitch, lazily. He felt the breeze through his hair and shivered slightly.
Harry would go to the pitch sometimes to think.
Tonight, he was thinking about the past May; the second and final battle with Voldemort. He felt content; sad about all the deaths of friends and family, but content that no one else would die by Voldemort's hand.
Harry heard a noise, like some one clearing their throat. He looked around and saw Draco behind him on his own broom.
"Malfoy, you startled me." Harry said turning himself around to face the blond.
"Sorry." He mumbled.
"It's fine. What are you doing up here?" Harry asked curiously.
"To think." He answered.
"Me as well."
"Maybe we could think together." Draco suggested.
"Okay."
Draco and Harry floated on their brooms, lost in their thoughts when Draco broke the silence once more.
"Hey, um, Potter?"
"Yes, Malfoy?" Harry asked, looking over at the blond.
"Do you think, maybe since the war's over, we could start over? Be friends?"
Harry smiled. "I'd like that very much... Draco."
Draco smiled back. "Thanks, Harry."
Draco sighed happily before diving back into his thoughts.