There was unrest at the gates of Gringotts. When the aurors arrived, half of Diagon Alley had descended to people crying and running in fear. Hexes flied with flailing limbs. Near the center was Draco Malfoy, looking irritated. Harry Potter rushed in close enough to throw over the scene an exacted Immobulus. A perimeter was set up, the rest died down soon enough. All that's left, then, was the tedious enquiry of everyone involved- or enough of them to shovel in a passable report.

Most people were let off straight away. We didn't know what was happening, they said; we were just scared, they said; we threw a Protego for the kids then someone starting throwing hexes at us; we saw the flare of a spell and panicked; the Protego looked like stinging hexes and we only thought to retaliate-

In the end there was just those with whom it started. Malfoy, and the few men who decided to attack as he slipped out of Gringotts. The whole while he stood on the side, held by a junior auror who resolutely did not look at him. He didn't speak a word, only looked on stoically. A medic was healing the cuts on his skin when Potter walked up to him.

"Mr. Malfoy."

His lips quirked slightly, "Auror."

His partner came up behind him, "you'll be needed at the ministry for questioning."

"I used only protection spells. Veritaserum won't change that."

"Mr. Malfoy, you have a criminal record, it's part of protocol for you to be brought in."

"Protocol, is it?" He said the word as if finding it ridiculously childish, "Now look, I don't know the person who committed the crimes on my criminal record, and I hold no responsibility for his actions."

The auror started forward, but Potter held his arm, while looking carefully at Malfoy, "you take care of the others, Parkheim."

Malfoy held his gaze as the other auror walked away, "Still protocol, is it?"

"I don't personally trust you either." He said slowly.

Malfoy gave a humourless laugh, "You're right, of course." He looked down the pavement, "I apologize for curiosity but, these others?"

The sun glared white and Potter looked tired, "they will received a recorded warning for unprovoked public offense."

"I was hoping for your thoughts."

"Not in the place to converse, Malfoy."

"You can't push it away though, can you? These people should hardly worth your time. They took nothing from the war but whatever to feed their anger and pettiness-" he laughs again, almost hysterical, "anger and pettiness, that's all they know nowadays- complacent with their glitter vest of respectability, but look how quickly that falls to ashes."

"You say you've changed, Malfoy," Potter's jaw hardened, "yet you're still the same bit crass and resentful."

"I hold no resentment, Potter. For the first seventeen years of my life I've lived a myth. But that's long dead now." Malfoy doesn't squirm under Potter's intense, silent stare. Plain dark robes aside, he's still half a head taller. He held out the handle of his wand, "I suppose we should get going."

Potter wordlessly pocketed the wand, its warmth and familiarity almost mocking. Then he apparated away, holding Malfoy by the arm.

"I left the front gate of Gringotts at around one fifteen in the afternoon, having conducted necessary affairs for my account. As usual, I did not look to linger on the Alley, but I saw no need to hide." Malfoy said against the windowless walls of the questioning cell, it's silent save for the scratching of a spelled quill. Potter sat with crossed arms, staring at the parchment. Malfoy sat easily, hands clasped on the table in front of him.

"One man shouted my name, and another threw the first hex. I used shield spells while trying to move away from the Gringotts gates. Others joined then, and I couldn't see the entire scene. the Diagon patrols came but could not contain the fights."

"Did you know anyone who was involved?"

"I didn't recognize any of them."

"Are you aware of having harmed any others?"

"No. As I said, only protection spells. Physical contact not withstanding."

"We should be done here. Do you have any further questions?"

"Yes." He waited for Potter to look up at him, "why are you still trying?" He continued when Potter didn't reply, "How many years has it been? What has changed? What does anything you do account to? Why- why do you keep chasing after people who see the worst in others as they please- trying to filter through this whole pathetic cesspit-"

"All you say here could one day be used in the court against you, Malfoy."

He laughed. In the chilling way that derided all the world contained in this tiny cell. "If that day comes I'll only ask for the choice of a death penalty over a lifetime in Azkaban."

"Then why hold to the law at all? As you did today and all those past years? If all is futile like you say- is this cowardice I see?"

"I play enough of the game to ignore all the rest of it. Even to rebel is to dignify it with significance-"

"And you think you know everything there is to know about life?"

Their voices were raised. Malfoy paused to collect himself. "Yes," his eyes were feverish, "all except you, I can't find a thread as to understand. You hold yourself to carry on like every death in the war was personally your fault. You hold on to that myth of love after everything-"

"You don't dare, Malfoy."

"It saved your life, sure, but where is it now? Where is the family you always wanted? Even Weasley and Granger have moved to Australia, haven't they? And can you say with all honesty that the Weasleys don't begrudge you even a bit after what happened with their girl?" The dictation quill had been lying immobile on the table for a while now.

"Mister Malfoy." Potter's tone was dangerous, "this is the end of your questioning session. I will now escort you out of the ministry. And-" he added as he stood, "you are wrong. About everything but one, that you truly do not understand."

But Malfoy could see he was unsettled. "I know I'm not wrong."

Late that night, Draco heard sharp knocks on his door. He would have then known his visitor, even had he not been following the man's back through the barely-lit alley of Knockturn. No one knocks here, he thinks bemusedly.

"Potter," the man was out of his auror robes. His light coloured shirt and jeans catching the low moon light, and stood out in the dark doorway.

"You- I don't know how you became infuriating on so many more dimensions." His eyes were shining wildly, "You are still living, with a head and a pair of hands that could be put to something if you will look past this stinking well in your head. We're all fucking stuck, alright? But I- I refuse to bow to pettiness, or face it with another form of the same pettiness- and you-" his words suddenly faltered.

Draco watched as the green of his eyes darkened. The words didn't matter, "This, this I understand." He lifted a hand to cup a mass of black curls, and guided them to a kiss into which Harry poured all the urgency.

"Don't be afraid, Harry."

And soon all was lost through the stroke of skin and heat, in the heavy languidness of the night.

Thanks for reading. I apologize for the cynicism. It wasn't a great day and writing this was cathartic.