a/n

I do not own any of the characters or world. If you don't like Drarry this isn't going to be the story for you.

The room was a glitter with all the jewellery out on show. Ballgowns slid across the floor and couples waltzed around the dance floor. Harry looked at the people and winced slightly, the revelry still hit a little hard. It had been two years since the war had ended and Harry still awoke with sweating and the feeling of dread in his mouth. Hermione reached over and squeezed his arm.

"I know, it feels weird to be stood here celebrating."

"I just can't seem to be able to move past it and get to the point that everyone else seems to be at."

"I don't think it's a competition and I don't think you should compare your journey with everyone else's. You went through more than every one standing here, and you need to remember that."

He tried to smile in her direction but just couldn't quite manage it, this whole charade rubbed him the wrong way, he would have chosen to miss it but felt obligated to keep attending. Surrounded by not only the memories but the photos of those he loves and lost was not an enjoyable experience. Hermione smiled as the pictures rotated to show Remus and Tonks smiling down at them followed by a laughing Sirius. He grimaced and she pulled him into the crowd searching out the group of friends. Ginny was stood there in her red dress looking beautiful as always, she caught him looking at him and smiled sadly. They had tried to make it work after the War but they were both too broken to be anything but hostile to one another. Maybe one day, but not today. He joined in with the group, watching Neville snaking his arm around Luna's back and Ron stepping over to Hermione's side. He would feel jealous if he was capable of feeling anything.

"How dare they show their face here." Ron exclaimed.

"Who?" Harry said, spinning around.

Draco Malfoy and his mother had just walked through the door. They both cut severe figures and Malfoy looked more uncomfortable than Harry had ever seen them. The last they had seen of the Malfoy family was them disappearing once Harry had come back from the edge.

"I suppose they want to pay their respects." Hermione stated, diplomatically.

"What for? The people they helped kill?"

Harry couldn't help but agree with Ron, it felt like a slap in the face for them to show their faces at something so raw and emotional as this event. Before their conversation could go any further, Kingsley Shacklebolt took his place on the podium and directed everyone's attention to him.

"Thank you to everyone who has managed to make it here tonight. We want to ensure that we don't forget the ones who were taken from us by the hands of pure evil." He started. "I don't have a long speech planned because no words can ever explain the loss that we feel on today, the second anniversary of the War."

Harry glanced over at Ginny who was swiping away tears, all he wanted to do was take her into his arms and hug her until the pain went away but he knew that he was still too full of spiky, broken parts to even consider it.

"We fought a great battle, sacrificed many but we stand here today as a community, stronger than ever. Looking for that which makes us similar rather than what pulls us a part."

Harry glanced again at Malfoy, he was wearing a charcoal suit with a black tie. He actually looked quite good once you got him out of the dreary robes. Harry looked back up at the stage, trying to muster up the same amount of anger that Ron had managed when looking at him, but there was still this pit roaring in his chest, an empty void that couldn't be filled no matter what.

"And here is to another year of rebuilding and looking forward to the future without any fear."

Kingsley raised his glass and the audience mimicked and took a deep gulp. Once the crowd started disperse, Harry downed his glass and made towards the door. Ron caught his eye and merely nodded and turned back to the group. Harry felt a surge of gratitude towards his best friend. He walked out into the foyer, paying no attention to where he was going, thinking only of the smiling photos and what they represented, when he slammed into something hard and stumbled backwards. Feeling the world sway underneath him, he realised that the last glass of champagne was probably one too many, he struggled to get his equilibrium back and cursed himself for being so clumsy.

"Are you okay Potter?" Someone asked, gripping his arm.

Harry looked up and straight into Malfoy's face and pulled back in a knee jerk reaction.

"Malfoy? Yes, I'm fine, had too much to drink. Sorry for walking into you like that."

"No, no worries. As long as you're okay?"

Harry looked at him again and wondered what he was doing here.

"Why did you come? You have the perfect excuse for not turning up?"

"I didn't want to come. Mother thinks that it would do us good to try and reintegrate back into the community. I did try and explain that this isn't for the likes of us, that we wouldn't be welcome."

"Your mother saved my life and probably the entire wizarding world. Of course you belong here."

"Well I wouldn't go that far and I also wouldn't let Weasley hear you say that, I think you would be banished out into the cold with me."

Harry laughed and nodded.

"Some grudges die hard. Well I'm heading off before they corner me for some weird press interview."

"Well no doubt we will see each other again at some point."

"Yeah, I suppose we will. See you around Malfoy."

Harry walked out the door without looking back feeling a slight bit lighter. He never thought he would share anything in common with Malfoy, but his unease at the ball made him feel more understood than anyone telling him he belonged there. He walked through Muggle London and towards his small flat, wondering whether this was all his life was going to be. He struggled against the expectations that people had placed on him, he went to work everyday, and fought against the last dregs of evil in the world but still it felt as though it was an uphill climb, with the gaping void sucking any kind of feeling or triumph away never to be felt again. All Harry had wanted was to be an Auror but now that he was one, it felt as though something was missing, there was no joy in it any more, just the same bad people doing the same awful things to good normal people.

He unlocked the door to his flat and climbed the stairs letting himself into the silence of the rooms. There was no one waiting for him to check whether he got home safe, and he knew that there was no need but he raised his wards anyway. Years of fearing for his life was a hard habit to break, he eventually got himself ready for sleep and clambered into bed. He lay there looking up at the ceiling, a hundred different thoughts going through his head and he ended up wondering how Malfoy dealt with all the feelings, it must be worst from his point of view, he had been on the wrong side, he had facilitated so many deaths. Harry shook his head and curled up against the wall. He tried in vain to keep the images from swirling around in his head when he gave up and took a sleeping draught instead.

Draco watched Potter leave with a sense of jealousy. He would have to stand here until his mother deigned it time to leave, or was allowed to call it quits. The room had been suffocating, he had stayed only to hear the speech before taking his leave feeling sick and queasy. He knew he was lucky to be invited but it left a prickly sensation under his skin to stand in that room knowing that he was somewhat responsible for the pain and loss they were all mourning.

"Draco, please come back in." His mother asked from the top of the stairs.

"I'm okay out here, thanks." He muttered.

"You don't need to punish yourself like this."

"There is some need for punishment mother. Look at what we did, look at what we were a part of. Every picture swirling around that room we have had a hand in." He ran his hand through his hair. "Look, I'm just going to head home. You stay, enjoy yourself."

She just looked at him with an understanding look and watched him leave. She knew how much it bothered him that there had been no retribution for their actions during the war. Out of the three of him, his father was the only one serving time in Azkaban. He should have been put in the same cell, still thinking about everything he walked into a nearby alley and apparated out of the busy streets and into the Malfoy mansion. There were still rooms that he couldn't step into without his brain shutting down and leaving him sweaty, clammy and short of breath. The rooms where He had sat and tortured the many people who didn't agree with him, or had taken everything away from Draco's family, and manipulated the war. He shuddered to think of the acts that had taken place under this roof, and made his way up the foyer and through the corridors, avoiding the spaces tainted. He opened the door to his bedroom, shirking off the tight suit he had donned for the evening and thought back to how lost Potter had looked leaving the ballroom. He hadn't seen him since the last moments of the war, and he had always thought that the Golden Trio would have had it set, somehow he had never thought that he would be struggling with life afterwards. Draco fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow and he was still thinking about Potter and the lost look on his face.