As Harry broke away from Ron and George and began to slowly make his way over to Draco, he took the opportunity to really look at him. Draco had a small smile on his face as he watched the revelers dance, and his eyes looked kind, unlike, well…pretty much every time he'd ever seen him in their entire time at Hogwarts. There was a subtle melancholy there, though, one that Harry wasn't sure anyone else would have picked up on, due to their preconceived notions. But Harry was a forgiving person by nature, inclined to look for the best in people, and somehow, he saw it. He began to get an inkling that the war had damaged Draco as much (or nearly as much) as it had damaged Harry. It had damaged them in different ways, sure, but they were both damaged just the same.
Harry closed the distance between them and Draco looked at him. Harry stuck out his hand. "I just wanted to say thanks for coming, Draco," Harry said with a smile. Draco gave him a sort of tentative smile and stuck out his hand to shake Harry's.
"Thank you for inviting me," he said quietly, looking down. "It was unexpected and," he hesitated for a second before looking back up at Harry, "very kind." He cleared his throat and mumbled, "Though I don't know why that should surprise me at this point," with a small laugh.
Harry breathed out a quick laugh and grinned. There was an awkward moment before Draco cleared his throat. "Umm, Harry," he began hesitantly, his eyes darting around, looking anywhere but at Harry, "I've been trying to figure out how and when to say this, and I suppose now's as good a time as any," he cleared his throat again before pulling his head up and looking Harry straight in the eyes. "I'm sorry. For everything." Draco held out his hand to Harry and Harry could see just what it cost him to make that gesture. Slowly, Harry took his hand and shook it, firmly.
"Water under the bridge, Draco. What do you say we make a joint decision to leave the past in the past?" Harry said with a smile. It took an effort to say this; as magnanimous as he was, it was difficult for Harry to just let entirely go of the past and all of the roles Draco had played in it. However, he could see clearly that this particular Slytherin was truly making an effort, and he could only imagine what that must be like for someone like Draco Malfoy, so he was inclined to cut the man some slack.
Draco dropped his head and shook it slightly as he gave a wry laugh. "Damn, Harry, you sure know how to make a man feel like a lesser man. Why are you so generous?" He held his head back up and his eyes twinkled a bit as he laughed, and then he turned serious once more. His eyes narrowed in curiosity and he tilted his head to the side. "Why did you save me in the Room of Requirement that night?"
Harry stared at him soberly. "Why didn't you out us to Bellatrix that night in Malfoy Manor?" he asked. Draco closed his eyes, suddenly looking tired.
"I didn't want any part of it," he said quietly, almost as if to himself. He steeled himself to continue, but something happened then that left Harry quietly shaking his head in wonder and amusement. Out of nowhere, Ron appeared, holding four shots of firewhisky.
"Looks like a serious conversation," he said. "Thought you two blokes could use a bit of this," he said with a small grin. "Malfoy," he nodded before turning away and rejoining the others. Harry laughed quietly. Ron was apparently one of those thick-headed gits who is as dim-witted as can be until it really counts, and then hits it out of the park in an occasional stroke of brilliance. Draco laughed as well, and Harry could tell that the same thought was running through his head.
"Weasley has his moments," Draco said, looking down, shaking his head and grinning. He looked back up at Harry and took a deep breath. He began to speak and then he held up a finger and picked up one of the shots and knocked it back. Harry grinned and followed, wincing as the hot liquor burned down his throat. Draco continued. "The thing is, Harry," he said haltingly, "when you are conditioned through your entire childhood to believe one single thing, and it's the only perspective on life you have, it's difficult to shake that. And even if you find yourself wanting to reject those beliefs, you still doubt yourself. After all, your parents are the ones who taught you everything you know of life, and come on, how can you doubt your parents? They love you the most and surely you can trust them, right?"
Before he could stop himself, Harry said, though not unkindly, "I wouldn't know."
Draco closed his eyes and dropped his head a bit. Harry was right and he wanted to kick himself for speaking without thinking.
"I'm sorry," he muttered. Opening his eyes once more, he continued. "See, Harry, my whole life, all I'd heard was continuous rhetoric about purebloods, purebloods, purebloods. I'd been conditioned—even brainwashed, you might say—into believing that I was superior to others, that anyone who wasn't pureblood was inferior and deserved to be wiped out." He paused. "It sounds so ridiculous looking back on it now—I mean, even if one buys into the idea that Muggles are inferior to those who are magical, why should it matter whether those witches and wizards are pureblood, half-blood, or Muggle-born, so long as they are magical?" Draco shook his head regretfully and Harry saw him glance Hermione's way. "But magical or not, people are people," he said quietly. "In fact, now that I'm able to look at it clearly, with no other influence," Draco looked up at Harry and finally looked completely confident in his own words, "I'd say that those of us in the magical world actually have a duty to Muggles, to keep them safe." He finished with a small shrug and a smile. "I don't expect anyone to forgive me—or even to believe that I'm sincere. But I wanted to join the Aurors as a sort of penance. I'll never be able to change the past or what I did," Draco said quietly. "But I want to try to make a difference going forward—keep it from ever happening again."
Harry was stunned. He started to open his mouth, to try to find something to say, but Draco held up a finger and plunged ahead, as if afraid to stop talking now that he'd started.
"Anyway," he rushed on, "by fifth or sixth year, I was starting to have some doubts. I was questioning the things I was being told and I was beginning to be unsure about the plans my parents were a part of. I tried very hard not to let it show outwardly, but the truth is, on the inside, I was beginning to get very scared. And then The Dark Lo—" Draco stopped himself, squeezed his eyes shut, and sighed tiredly. "Voldemort," he said pointedly, "ordered me to kill Dumbledore." Harry swallowed hard, surprised by the rush of emotions that slammed into him. Draco continued, "I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to do it, but I was terrified. I knew Vo—Voldemort would torture or kill my parents and me if I didn't go through with it. But by that point I'd begun to see reason. I knew Dumbledore was blameless. In fact, the thought of killing him was even more horrifying because I felt like he was the only person standing between Voldemort and total domination, and I already knew I didn't want to live in that world. But you see, I was still bound by my parents." Draco swallowed hard and gave a small smile as he spotted Ron making his way over with two more shots of firewhisky. "Thanks, Mate," Draco ventured, earning a raised eyebrow and a "No problem," from Ron in return. Draco picked up the remaining shot from Ron's first trip over and downed it. Harry did the same.
Draco closed his eyes at the burning sensation and swallowed before continuing. "The fact of the matter is, I wanted out. And slowly, I started to realize that it wasn't simply a matter of wanting out—I was actually starting to root for you." He gave a wry smile. "After all of the hatred I'd thrown at you, I found myself hoping against hope, deep inside, that you really were The Chosen One." He said the last three words in a sort of playful teasing voice, as he knew Harry loathed that title. Harry couldn't help but allow a small grin. "So there was no way I was just going to offer you up on a silver platter to that bitch," he spat with disgust. "And to be honest, although I was still at the point of feeling a strong dislike for Hermione, I was terrified for her, being Muggle-born. I didn't know what they would do to her." He checked himself. "No. I knew what they would do to her, but I didn't know how prolonged or extensive it would be, and by that point, I'd just…seen enough torture and death," he said wearily. "I was desperately trying to figure out if there was any way to help you all without giving myself away, but luckily, I didn't have to worry about that." Draco paused, and swallowed hard. "I'm sorry about Dobby," he whispered.
Harry felt a lump in his throat as he thought about the sweet elf who had saved them. He was trying to think of something to say in response when Draco continued.
"Minister Shacklebolt has since explained to me everything that went on with the Order of the Phoenix and Professor Snape." His eyes snapped open and he met Harry's eyes with a firm look. "I will forever be grateful to Professor Snape for what he did for me—and for you." Harry closed his eyes, the memory still raw. "If I had been the one to actually do it, I don't know if I could have ever forgiven myself," Draco said quietly.
"So, to answer your question, Harry," Draco continued as Harry's head snapped up, "I was trying to find a way to buy time at Malfoy Manor. Time for you, time for me, time for everyone. I didn't sell you out to Bellatrix because if they knew for sure it was you, they would have summoned him immediately, and it would have been all over. You had no wand. You're a brilliant wizard, but you wouldn't have stood a chance, and though I'd have been loathe to admit it at the time, I was hoping that…in the end…." Draco paused, swallowing hard, "you'd win."
Harry stood there, stunned, unable to form words. Draco smiled wryly. "So do you want to tell me why you saved my ass in the Room of Requirement?"
Harry paused, thinking. "You…you saved us from Bellatrix. In particular, you saved Hermione," Harry said, glancing over his shoulder at his best friend. "I had some small inkling that perhaps you weren't as fully committed to Voldemort as you would have had others believe. And either way," Harry shrugged, "It's just not in my nature to do something like that. I couldn't leave you to die in Fiendfyre." Harry shuddered at the thought.
"Thanks, Mate," Draco said quietly. "I didn't deserve it, but I appreciate it." He looked down for a moment, then looked up once more. "Congratulations, by the way. You and Ginny make a beautiful couple and you both deserve happiness." Harry was caught off guard by the genuine smile on Draco's face. Draco continued, "I'm thankful you're a generous and forgiving bloke; in that vein, may I offer a toast?" He nodded toward the two remaining shots of firewhisky with a smirk.
Harry grinned and picked up his shot glass. Draco followed suit and lifted his own. "To Harry and Ginny Potter—the Boy Who Lived and the Woman Who Keeps Him in Line," Draco grinned, eyes twinkling.
"Indeed," Harry added, laughing heartily.
Harry and Draco drank.
Draco lowered his shot glass thoughtfully. "Umm, Potter," he said carefully, "how do you think it would go over if I was to go talk to Granger?"
"I'm not sure, to be honest," Harry answered apologetically.
Draco gave a wan smile. "I'm not worried about her telling me off—I just don't want to make a scene at your wedding."
Harry shook his head, hard. "No, she wouldn't do that. As long as you didn't do anything to provoke her—which I can see you obviously won't—she would be courteous at the very least." Draco nodded, appearing to be steeling himself for the encounter.
Harry took the opportunity to nod at the beer Draco still held in the hand that hadn't been tossing back shots. "That's what did it, you know," he said with a sly grin. Draco looked at him questioningly. "Draco Malfoy drinking a Muggle beer," Harry laughed, his eyes twinkling. "Either you've genuinely changed or the Apocalypse is upon us all."
Draco was laughing now, too, his eyes full of mirth and his countenance a tad less melancholy. Harry clapped him on shoulder and said, "Come on, let's go talk to our friends and then really get this party going." Draco gave that small smile of disbelief once more. Harry Potter really was a most unusual wizard.