Written for anon on tumblr. Enjoy.

Second Chances

Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, the boy who died, the boy who somehow survived, sat at the edge of the Black Lake. It had been a few days since the Battle of Hogwarts, as the papers were now calling it, but Harry had only left the grounds once for a few hours. He, along with many others, had been spending most of his time assisting in repairs to the school.

It felt different now, looking out at the water after everything that had happened. It seemed like forever ago that he had travelled across it as a first year. Everything felt so different. He had been so young back then. He felt like he'd lived a dozen lifetime in those few years. He'd faced Voldemort not once, but five times. More than enough for one lifetime. More than he cared to remember.

Part of him was still sure he was going to pop out from the forest or something. Though the war was not easily won, it almost felt too easy. Could it all really be over? It was hard to believe that it could be, when he'd been fighting so long. He wouldn't be surprised if, some day, two, five, ten years down the road, The Dark Lord somehow returned.

"Hello, Potter," a voice said. Harry turned to see Draco Malfoy approaching him.

"Hi, Malfoy," he replied. "I had wondered if you'd come back for your wand."

"I'd like it back."

Harry reached for one of the two wands sitting near his feet and passed it to the blonde.

"It was a very good wand," Harry said, as Malfoy tested it. He smiled at the feeling of a wand that understood him.

Then he sat down next to Harry.

Pleasantly surprised, he smiled and looked back out at the lake.

"I was a coward," Malfoy said after several minutes of silence.

"Hmm?" Harry turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised.

"A coward," he repeated. "I'm sorry. I did so many things…"

"You don't have to apologize to me."

"Maybe not, but I'm doing it anyway. We certainly weren't ever friends, I know that, but… I did a lot of terrible things, especially to you, that I regret. I wish I could take it all back."

"I forgive you," Harry said, surprising him.

"I don't deserve that."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe not, but it's the truth. In the end, you didn't fight with Voldemort."

"No, I ran away."

"But, for a little while, you did fight with us."

"I should have stayed. I should never have rejoined my parents."

"You're not a bad person, Draco," Harry told him. "You've just done some bad things. I certainly don't hate you for choosing your family above everyone else. If my parents had been standing there, I would have done the same thing as you."

Malfoy was too shocked by the use of his first name to form any kind of coherent thought. Instead, the two of them stared out at the lake once more.

"Why is it so important," Harry asked a while later. "That you apologize to me?"

Draco looked up at him. "I don't… I don't know how to explain," he said shaking his head.

Harry understood that feeling. At that very moment, he was fighting an overwhelming urge to kiss the Slytherin, and he couldn't explain the feeling, not even to himself. He couldn't' even find a good reason not to act.

So he did. And to his surprise, Draco kissed him back. It was short and sweet, and when the pulled apart, they were both smiling, though slightly flushed. Their hands found each other in the grass.

"Do you ever wonder," Draco began a few moments later. "How different things could have been? If we had been friends?"

"All the time."

When Harry looked over at him this time, they were both eleven years old. For just a moment, they were back at the beginning of their lives. Innocent.

They were being give a second chance. A chance to start over.