When it comes down to it, people don't actually change much; it is how we perceive them that change over time. Thinking about it this way, perhaps everyone deserves to be looked at from a new perspective. In fact, maybe that's what it really means to be given a second chance. Upon seeing the quiet figure sitting alone on the park bench, solemnly scanning that morning's newspaper, Harry thought just that.

Eight years. For eight years, the green-eyed boy had seen neither hide nor tail of his old high school rival. Eight years. It had already been eight years since the great Battle of Hogwarts. Eight years since the defeat of the Dark Lord. Eight years.

He hadn't noticed.

Maybe time really did fly…or maybe it just stood still.

"Hey," said Harry, stopping in front of Draco.

Draco looked up. His icy gaze seemed weary. As recognition dawned on him, his eyes widened and his shoulders stiffened. He didn't reply.

"Nice day," Harry supplied in a light tone. It was a classic conversation starter for someone who wasn't even sure why he was attempting to start a conversation in the first place. "Peaceful times we're living in," he added, nodding at the paper. He noticed how tightly Draco was clutching it in his hands; the whites of his knuckles were clearly visible.

After another moment of awkward silence, the blonde replied, "Well, yes, considering how the front page headline is, 'Miracle Dog Saves Cat.'"

Harry cracked a grin. "What, no smirk? No snide remark complimented with a hearty sneer?"

A sigh escaped Draco's lips. "We all have to grow up, Potter, but I'll gladly send you off with a curse if that's what you want."

"No, no. That's quite all right. Where have you been anyway? None of us have seen you since…"

Again, Draco shrugged. He seemed so…un-Draco. Who was this person anyway? Harry couldn't help but feel a bit unnerved by conversing with the 'grown-up' Malfoy. There was but a faint trace of the air of arrogance he had worn so well for many years. Is this what time could do to a person? Could someone really change so much in just eight years?

Eight years. Wow. It really had been eight years…

"Here and there," replied Draco, attempting to appear nonchalant. "I've been doing a lot of traveling…been thinking about…stuff."

"Well, tha—" Before Harry could say another word, a high-pitched beeping sound began to emit from his coat pocket. He reached in and produced a small cell phone. Upon flipping it open, a white box flashed and a message appeared:

11/11/06 11:40 PM

MEET RON AND HERMIONE FOR LUNCH.

BE THERE BY 12.

DON'T BE LATE.

"Bloody hell…" Harry muttered under his breath. The restaurant that they had planned to meet at was a half and hour away and Hermione couldn't stand tardiness. "Look, Draco, sorry about leaving suddenly like this, especially since I'm the one who started the conversation, but Hermione is going to have a cow if I'm late. Er, here."

Without much thought, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen. He quickly scrawled something at the top of the newspaper Draco had been reading.

"What's this?" inquired Draco as he eyed what Harry had scribbled down.

"My number. Call sometime if you ever feel like sorting out old differences and whatnot." Replied Harry in a hurry.

He bid Draco farewell and dashed down the pavement, wishing that he could simply Apparate to the designated location. But alas, there were Muggles around and that just wouldn't be quite the right thing to do.

-x-

"—so then I sai—Harry," Hermione said, interrupting herself. "Harry."

"Huh, what?" Harry looked up. He had apparently been poking a meatball around his plate, drawing pictures in the spaghetti sauce.

"Honestly, Harry, we haven't seen each other in a year and you're off in your own little world!"

Harry smiled weakly. "Sorry, Hermione. I guess I'm a bit distracted."

"Well, I'll say!" Ron cut in, tomato sauce splattered on his chin. All those years and he was still a bit of a messy eater. "You'd better start payin' attention, mate, or else Hermione's going to levitate you to the top of the Tower of London."

"It'd have a nice view, wouldn't it?" interjected Harry, smirking a bit.

"We really should check that out some time," said Ron, smiling.

Hermione sighed and shook her head, her curls gently falling to frame her face. "Ron! Will you please wipe your mouth? And Harry, what's on your mind?"

Harry couldn't help but glance at her wedding ring. It had already been a year since the two had wed. In fact, it was at their wedding that the trio had last been together. They were a happy couple, as one might expect. The two had been busy settling into their new home and Harry had not wanted to intrude, especially since Ginny had been at their new house quite often…or so he had heard.

Ginny. He didn't want to think about her now.

"Yeah, tell us." Ron was saying and Harry snapped back into reality.

"Oh, er, it's nothing really. I guess I'm just a bit out of sorts since I saw Draco today…" Harry admitted, resuming his picture drawing.

"Wait, what did you just say? Draco? As in…Draco Malfoy?" Ron exclaimed, practically spewing spaghetti all over the place.

"Ron! Manners! Honestly…" Hermione sighed. "But I'm going to have to agree with Ron's reaction on this, Harry. Did he say anything to you?"

"No, actually, I started the conversation, believe it or not."

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other.

Ron spoke first. "Why? Why would you want to talk to that backstabbing, Voldemort-hugging, sniveling coward?"

Now it was Harry's turn to shrug. "I don't know. I just felt like it. He's changed a lot, you know. Malfoy has. A lot…nicer. No, perhaps just more polite. He's just grown up. We all have."

"Well, sure, but that doesn't make him any less of a bloody Bludger!" Ron exclaimed, pointing his fork at his friend. "It'll do ya more harm than good getting near to him."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"He is right, Harry," Hermione cut in. "Just think of all the terrible things he's done to you. To all of us. People might change, but Malfoy's a bit of a different case…"

"Barely human!" muttered Ron.

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry said. He was suddenly very tired and he didn't know why. Desperate to change the subject, he added, "Anyway, how have you guys been doing?"

Hermione smiled. "We've been absolutely lovely!"

"But Ginny hasn't." Ron suddenly said rather bluntly.

"Ronald!" Hermione all but hissed. Upon noticing Harry cringing, she said, "Harry, she's just having a hard time moving on, but she's doing fine! You know, she's been working on furthering Muggle relations lately! Really quite active in all those sorts of organizations. Personally, though, I think that she's just trying to fill that void…"

"Well don't give me that look!" Harry exclaimed exasperatedly. "She broke up with me! Remember?"

"Well, mate, you weren't exactly being all lovey-dovey with her." Ron said with a mouthful of garlic bread. "You were so caught up with all that Auror business that she felt neglected! Or so she said."

Harry held his head with his hands. One hand instinctively went to his scar, the mark of The Boy Who Lived. Although it had been eight years since he had last felt any pain from it, old habits die hard. Any time he would get a headache, his hand would automatically go to the lightning bolt upon his forehead.

"Look, it's not like I wanted to make her feel lonely! I mean, I completely supported her when she went to live with Bill and Fleur for a year! How do you think I felt?" he sighed again. There seemed to be a lot of that going on lately. "Never mind," he checked his watch. "We'd better hurry if we still want to catch that movie."

He'd think about all that later.

Right now, it was too irritating to deal with.

However, for some reason, one thing – or rather, one person – was still on his mind.

Try as he might, he was unable to push their encounter out of his head.

And that…that was the most irritating thing of all.