Draco sat at a table in the Great Hall staring at the wood grains, his parents on his right looking bewildered, and Amaris on his left looking exhausted. They held hands beneath the table. Theo came and went, distracting himself from his pain by keeping busy. Blaise had immediately put his talents to use assisting in administering first aid, and Draco hadn't seen him since the Dark Lord's demise.

The hours seemed to stretch on but the night wouldn't end. More injured witches and wizards were discovered regularly and brought down for treatment. Grief and anguish exploded in a jarring sound as new bodies were uncovered. His mother sobbed quietly when Aunt Bellatrix was proclaimed one of the dead. Draco felt a remote sense of sadness, like sunlight that couldn't quite penetrate cloud-cover. It was there, he could see it, but he couldn't feel it. Not truly.

When the news came, Amaris squeezed his hand, but they didn't speak. Draco knew she had questions about Easter, as did he, but neither said a word. They just sat there. Occasionally she would rise and offer her assistance, but she would always come back, slip quietly onto the bench beside him, and return her hand to his.

The hum of activity stretched on for so long that Draco's vision began to blur, his mind began to shut out everything else, and he felt on the verge of falling asleep right where he sat until Pansy appeared at the table. She stared hard at Amaris, her mouth pinched, her nose wrinkled. He was suddenly very awake and alert as Amaris squeezed his hand.

"I need to talk to you," Pansy bristled, then sharply added, "Now. Alone."

Draco was on the verge of telling her off, but Amaris stood up. He refused to release her, tugging her back, but she offered him a weak smile then slipped her hand out of his. Pansy pretended not to notice, avoiding looking at them directly. And then she led Amaris out of the Great Hall.

Draco immediately jumped up to follow them. His mother instantly reached up to clutch his jacket. Her eyes were puffy with sorrow and ringed with exhaustion.

"Draco," she rasped. "Where are you—"

"I'll be right back," he promised her, tugging out of her grasp. He ignored his parents' calling after him and hurried out of the Great Hall, dodging a pair bringing in another injured wizard. He made it through the double doors just in time to see the girls turn down a corridor on the right. He followed.

They didn't go far, just enough to be out of earshot. Draco stopped at the corner of the intersecting hallways, pressing his back against the wall and trying not to breathe. He didn't really think Pansy would say or do something cruel, not now, but he wasn't going to take any chances.

"Let's be clear," Pansy began, her tone as sharp as always. "I don't like you. And I don't want to be your friend, now or ever."

Pansy paused and Draco clenched his jaw, debating turning the corner and confronting her. Why in Merlin's name would she call her out just to tell her she hated her? Even for Pansy, it was extreme. After their last conversation, he was sure she had at least some remorse about the way she had bullied Amaris. Where was this coming from?

Pansy took a deep breath and, in a softer tone, continued, "I chose you all those years ago because you had the prettiest blond hair I'd ever seen, thick and fine, while mine was thin and dry. And you were so skinny, you never gained any weight no matter what you ate."

Draco frowned, once again suffering the sensation that he was not supposed to hear this but, just like that time, he couldn't move his feet.

"I've always struggled with my weight, you see," Pansy said after a moment. "I couldn't help it. Every little thing I ate seemed to cling to me. My family used to call me Porky Pansy," she spat the words with utter vitriol, "until I was so ashamed to eat that I stopped. I was sick for months, but it was the only reason I got to be as thin as I was before school started. I've spent the last eight years starving myself to stay this way." She sucked in a harsh breath. "And for eight years, I watched you eat whatever delicious thing you wanted and not gain a pound, while every time I gave in and ate something sweet, it would instantly appear in my thighs, my gut, my cheeks. Every year that passed, you got prettier and prettier, and I stayed the same!"

A cascade of interlocking pieces all clicked together at once as Draco's stomach seemed to drop in shock and shame. How had he missed this? He knew she had been jealous of Amaris, and yet the why never occurred to him. Because Amaris had become pretty, of course. That was the extent of it in his mind. He had never known she had a weight problem, had starved herself, or that she had been bullied herself—by her own family, no less. She hid her insecurities so well that she had fooled everyone. Though it had been easy for her to fool him… He had barely ever looked at her with anything other than the noncommittal eyes of a spoiled heir soaking up the attention she heaped onto him.

Pansy's voice was suddenly wet with tears as she exclaimed, "It was so unfair! I worked so hard to stay thin and look beautiful, and you were both without any effort at all. I embodied Slytherin ideals, but yet you won my friends with your Hufflepuff personality." She sniffled. "I was so loyal to him for all these years," she said, her voice sharp and high-pitched with emotion, "but he picked you over me, even when you didn't want him!"

Draco's head thunked against the wall, guilt filling him up like sand until it was hard to breathe. He had known she liked him and he had manipulated those feelings to get what he wanted—her affections, her cooperation, her loyalty—but he never intended to return her feelings. Not once. When had she realized it? And yet she had continued to show him loyalty, up to the very end…

Pansy cried for only a moment before she reined in her emotion, clearing her throat and sniffling away her tears. "I was horrible to you. An apology won't fix it, and I don't want to give you one because I still hate you so much, even knowing everything else. But I thought you deserved to know why."

And then Pansy took off running, her sobs echoing down the hallway until they quickly faded away. There was a moment of silence, like a held breath, before a quiet squealing sound came from the other side of the wall, and Draco turned the corner to see Amaris leaning there, one shaking hand covering her mouth, the other wrapped across her stomach, tears gushing out of her eyes.

Draco didn't know what to say, had barely realized there were tears in his own eyes until he blinked and felt their sting. He came toward her and she jumped when she saw him, shook her head repeatedly as if she could deny what she had just heard. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. He just looked at her until she crashed into him and cried into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, letting his back fall against the wall, struggling not to sob along with her as she released all of her fear and pain and anger that she had carried until now.

Draco tried to find the words to break the silence to soften her sorrow, but nothing came to him. Not one thing. He was exhausted. Bone tired. Mentally and emotionally drained. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep right there against the wall with her in his arms and wake up a year later when the pain had passed.

When her tears finally subsided and her breathing began to calm, he passed her his monogrammed handkerchief. After she blew her nose and promised to return it to him, he shook his head and told her not to worry about it. Silence stretched between them until it threatened to become awkward.

"I had to," he finally said, and she lifted her blue eyes to meet his gaze. "To go to him. For my parents. I didn't want to."

"I know."

"I was afraid he would hurt them if I didn't."

"I know…"

"He'd done it before. Because of me," he explained, remembering Easter and how his failure to identify Harry and the Golden Trio's escape had resulted in him and his parents being tortured. "I had to. He would have made an example of them if I didn't."

Suddenly she stepped close to him, grasping his hands with hers as though her slim fingers held more strength than his large ones. Maybe they did, because he froze, held his breath.

"You love your family, Draco. You love them so much. And you were trying to protect them. You have been trying to protect them all this time. If my parents were still here with me, I would have done the same."

He doubted she would have done the exact same, but he was relieved to hear her say it. He turned his hand in hers, let his fingertips linger on her palm, brush gently against her skin. He eyed her ring finger, thoughts swirling recklessly in his head. He loved his family. He would do anything to protect them. She had said so herself. Did she see that he had tried to protect her, too? Did she realize what that meant?

"Amaris," he murmured, ready to finally confess that his desire to protect her had nothing to do with his guilt, but because he was in love with her. "I—"

"There you are," Theo said, appearing from around the corner. He flashed Draco a worried glance and then grasped Amaris by the shoulder. "I'm sorry, love," he murmured. Her bewildered expression did not prompt Theo to explain, only to say, "I'm sorry," again before muttering, "Come on."

He led them back into the Great Hall where Professor Sprout was standing over a body covered with a sheet. She looked up as they came in and waved Amaris over.

"What happened?" Draco asked as she crossed over to the professor.

Theo stuffed his hands into his pockets, a muscle in his jaw feathering as he watched Professor Sprout lift the sheet away to reveal Sagun Selwyn's corpse. Amaris cried out and dropped to her knees, and Theo almost moved toward her, but stiffened, keeping his feet planted.

"I heard he was a piece of garbage," Theo said tightly, "and I'm not sorry he's dead, but I feel bad for her. That girl can love anyone."

Draco swallowed the thick lump in his throat as he took in her shaking shoulders, a mixture of pity and horror mingling in his gut. He didn't feel nearly as bad as Theo did because he knew how vile Mr. Selwyn had been, how he had intended to use the Imperius Curse to force his niece to marry someone she didn't want to. He knew Amaris would grieve now, but she would move on, and quickly. There was no love lost between them. But there was another thought that caused his stomach to tighten in dread, a new possibility that made him feel like the ground beneath his feet was made of silt and sand.

Now that both the Dark Lord and her uncle were dead, Amaris no longer had a reason to marry him.

Author's Note: I had this scene with Pansy in my head for a long time. Initially, the planned sequence was lighter, with Pansy coming up to her and making a few short comments, and Amaris would have smiled with a small sense of healing and relief, of moving forward, amid all the chaos and sorrow of the battle's aftermath. But somehow, their scene became so heavy, and I really felt bad for Pansy in the end. I still feel like it leads to healing, but it takes a new path to get there.