When I saw Draco Malfoy again for the first time since the Battle of Hogwarts, do you remember, I was in Italy. His excuse for being in Italy was a 'holiday, after studying so hard in school'. It was during a dinner party arranged by a mutual friend who thought my life could do with some spicing up.
He seemed like a replenished man, though I later learned he was anything but. Talking to everyone in fluent Italian and English, laughing, smirking and being utterly charming. But in those rare moments when he was alone with a drink in hand, the smile, the glow, the charm seeped out of him, and there stood an unrecognisable person.
When it was my turn to be introduced, it was a politely awkward conversation, created by our mutual friend who hovered at the edge clearly pushing at something. When she left, realisation broke through.
"You're that girl, aren't you?"
"Be a bit more specific than that, Mr Malfoy."
"From Hogwarts, that one in Ravenclaw." He looked down, abashed. "Forgive me, I can't think of a name to match your face."
"Why don't we take a walk Mr Malfoy? To refresh your memory?"
"Please... call me Draco."