Enmity
Two hours into the festivities, and none of the attending Aurors have tried to arrest him. No-one's accused him of lacking a right to be here, no-one' s more than glanced at his left arm's sleeve, and no-one's approached him to ask harsh, prying question. Against all his expectations, his all the direct encounters he's had have been puzzlingly pleasant.
Hermione Granger has condoled him with the loss of his mother and inquired about his injuries. Luna Lovegood has put a champagne flute filled with some unidentifiable, unbelievably good substance in his hand; it is rapidly becoming his favourite drink. Ernie Macmillan has slapped him on the shoulder and heartily congratulated him on doing "a good job" and "turning out to be a surprisingly decent sort".
The Patil twins have shaken his hand and not whined about how his father killed their parents. Ginny Weasley has refused to let go before he allowed her one dance. Admittadly, the scowl her brother has directed at him all evening cannot be described as friendly, exactly, but one look at Neville standing quietly and confidently at Draco's side, and the weasel has kept a diplomatic distance. And Harry Potter has even nodded at him, flashed him a tired smile in recognition.
It's amazing how easy it is to be accepted by former rivals, people who, until very recently, would have greeted him as deadly enemies, simply by arriving at the class reunion victory party with the right person.