Harry slumped around his house dejectedly. There were a few more months until the Auror Department would let him begin training. They claimed that it might upset Harry Potter if he has to face the Dark Arts again so soon. Ginny was back at Hogwarts after the few weeks off the school had graciously given her. And Harry was downright bored. With extra time, Hermione would say he should be studying, but in all honesty, who could worry about school right after a war. It seemed too normal. And Ron would tell him to go for a fly around his yard on his broomstick. That seemed too happy. And flying was no fun alone, so maybe Harry should invite Ron over?
No Ron was busy worrying about his own future. Maybe Harry could… "Potter," said a voice from his living area. "Potter, I wish to speak with you."
'Who could that be?' wondered Harry. He knew that there were plenty of witches wishing to 'speak' with him. But, this was no witch. This was a wizard who Harry knew extremely well, even if he preferred not to.
By the well-placed hiss and arrogant tone, Harry correctly identified his visitor as Draco Malfoy. "Draco Malfoy?" Harry questioned as he walked up to his fireplace. "What in the name of Merlin are you doing here?" He asked with a disbelieving tone. He was incredulous! Why on earth would Malfoy want to, scratch that, wish to speak with him? Granted, he was a famous wizard, but he doubted that his visit had anything to do with acquiring more fame. "Well I suppose you can come through, I know how uncomfortable sticking your head through a fireplace can be."
Draco nodded curtly, and disappeared for a moment before stepping through into Harry's living room. He arrived and dusted his robes off, straightened up to make sure that he was still taller than Potter.
Harry smiled awkwardly at his former enemy and for a moment, the two of them stared at each other. "Potter, you look terrible." Drawled Draco. "Your appearance is atrocious and your house is a mess, you should invest in a house elf if you feel you are above the work required to own a respectable…whoa there Potter, don't get offensive. I came here to talk." Harry had pulled out his wand at the notion of himself being arrogant.
Harry shoved it back into his robes and, still scowling said, "Well then Draco, if you came here to talk, then talk. I have better things to do than listen to your insults." He sat down on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table.
"I'm sorry," Draco muttered. Harry's eyebrows rose slightly. "Yes Harry, I regret my decisions and I am sorry for being a jerk to the world." He hissed and begun to speak through his teeth, still retaining his mask of apathy. "Would you like to visit myself and my fiancée at my house today? For lunch perhaps, it's just that she has been…" Draco shook his head. "Well? A response would be truly appreciated."
Harry's eyebrows shot higher on his forehead. "Uh, yeah, sure. Well this is new. I uh, yeah."
Draco walked to stand in front of Harry and took out his wand. Consequently, Harry took a few steps backward. Draco rolled his eyes and explained to Harry, "I am not looking for a duel, I've had enough of those to last me for a lifetime; I've known enough pain to last me an eternity in Hell. Trust me Potter, I have no more desire than you to duel. I was merely going to try to straighten up your appearance before we go to my house. Don't want my fiancée to think you're one of those unrespectable wizards."
Harry looked dubiously at the slicked back blond hair and the pristinely managed midnight black robes complete with silver trimmings where necessary and his immaculate complection and wondered how he looked in comparison. Frankly, he didn't give a damn what he looked like when it was just he and good old time in the house. He sighed and told Draco, "Fine Malfoy, but my hair stays. And your insults stop. Now."
Draco smirked and twirled his wand while casting some transfiguration charms on Harry's robes. "There, acceptable. Now if you'll follow me Potter, we can go eat lunch and, yes. Floo address is 'Malfoy Mansion'. He threw in a handful of the powder and stepped through the fireplace.
Harry followed, the same blank expression was back on his face, and he looked tired and bored. Stumbling out of the fireplace in a very familiar mansion, Harry tensed immediately. He cursed himself for his momentary lack of judgment. Why on earth would Malfoy want to have lunch with him? He wasn't truly sorry; it was all a staged performance to goad Harry Potter into the clutches of the remaining Death Eaters. He whipped his wand out expecting black-cloaked figures, but saw none. Then were they hiding?
"Potter, why the worried look." Draco said arrogantly. "Afraid my food might be poisoned? I assure you, it is not. Come with me, I'd like to introduce you to my fiancée, Astoria."
Draco walked with Harry as he pocketed his wand warily but followed the blond-haired man.
Astoria greeted her fiancé with a quick kiss and pulled him to sit next to her at the table. Harry noticed with gratitude towards Draco that it was not the same table that Voldemort had used, but a smaller, more cheerful looking table. "Hello Harry Potter, I do wish to know what you would like to eat for lunch today. Would you care for some appetizers? Perhaps some fresh tomatoes and mozzarella I have acquired. In Italy, it was wonderful. Would you like some?" Astoria gently smiled as she shifted into hostess mode. Harry looked at her with tired eyes and gave her an attempt at a smile. He half-nodded, and Astoria cheerfully left the room, probably to fix lunch for the three.
"She's your fiancée?" Harry asked to Draco. "She seems a model Malfoy."
Draco scowled slightly. "Coming from you that seems like an insult. She's wonderful. Your girlfriend is a wonderful weasel isn't she?" He retorted. Harry's eyes darkened for a moment.
"Ah here it is. Harry, I'm sure you'll find this exquisite. It isn't fancy much, but it has a splendid taste. Draco here loves it." Astoria came flouncing into the room at precisely the right moment and set the plate of Italian-inspired food down. Harry waited for someone else to take a piece before he lay a finger on one of those delicious looking pieces of mozzarella. As if sensing his uncomfortableness, Astoria took one herself. "They are delicious, try one Harry."
Harry glanced at Draco, who seemed pensive and disinterested. Harry wondered who really invited him here, for it seemed as if Astoria was the person who wanted to talk with him. Reluctantly, he picked up the cheese and ate it. He smiled, "That is quite good. Thank you Astoria, it's wonderful." Harry sat back in his chair and looked over to Draco.
Draco was frantically thinking of how to broach the subject of why he did what he did during the war. Draco was surely going to get angry if he began to talk about what he was forced to do. Oh well, he thought, Potter can handle my anger. "Astoria dear, could you leave us for a while?" Astoria looked at her fiancé and after a moment, nodded. "Thank you." And she left to go to her rooms.
"Potter," Draco began, in an inflectionless tone. "I am fairly certain that you have no regrets in your part of the war, and might assume that we 'Death Munchers'" he said the label with contempt, "feel the same. You heroes believe that we are selfish and shallow and remorseless."
Harry looked at Draco distantly. "You really think that Malfoy? Do you truly believe that not one of us understands what you had to go through? You think that all of us had it easy and couldn't possibly comprehend the feeling you get when your family and friends die in front of you and you're powerless to stop it. You are damn wrong. I regret every single death that happened ever since I was born. If I hadn't been born, then no one would have died. You are shallow Malfoy," he said with compassion, "and it would do you good to recognize your weakness."
Draco stood up and resumed his emotionless voice. "Well, if I won't be forgiven, I guess you can leave now. It would do you good to know that the world doesn't revolve around you. Yes yes, I'm sorry for your tragic loss and all, but do realize, we've lost more than any of the supposed 'light side' during the war. We lost everything that we held dear. So get rid of that 'me me me' attitude Potter. I should have known, why would a descendant of James Potter want anything more than fame?" Potter pushed his chair back and whipped his wand out and poited it at Draco.
He was furious. "You can talk shit about me Malfoy, I know what I did was terrible, but don't you DARE bring my father into this. Is that what you have to resort to? Insulting the dead? I can think of a few comebacks." Draco stood there, his perfect mask of indifference on him, and Harry huffed. "I guess you're right know-it-all, you don't deserve my forgiveness. You're one to talk about anscestry. You're a fool Malfoy, a vain, arrogant fool. You don't really care about anyone else."
Draco scowled at his childhood nemesis and pointed a finger to the fireplace. "If you cannot handle my arrogance then, get out. Get out." Harry indignantly remained where he was and Draco sent a hex his way. "Get out of my house!"
Harry blocked the hex and made a dash for the fireplace. Tossing some floo powder into the flames, he glanced back at Draco, who was seething and jumped into the emerald flames.