Summary: After years of a strained relationship and little communication, Draco and Harry run into each other while dropping their children off at Platform 9 3/4.

Prompt: Conversations on Platform 9 3/4 dropping off kids or waiting for them to arrive. Minimum: 114 words - Maximum 841 words.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.

With his hand on Scorpius' shoulder and his wife beside him, Draco stared up at the brilliant red steam engine. Puffs emanating from the top as it prepared for it's journey. He couldn't believe that his little Scorpion would be on it this year.

He and Astoria had thought about keeping their son home this year, giving him more time with his Mother as her life was slowly siphoned away, but they couldn't jeopardize his schooling like that. Perhaps Durmstrang or even Beauxbatons would be more accommodating to their situation, but neither of them were Hogwarts. Draco wanted so badly for his son to follow a better example than he had. With McGonagall as Headmistress, there wasn't a better place Scorpius' could go.

The death eaters had been snuffed out years ago, their dark presence gone from any school, but with them didn't go complete darkness. Witches and wizards existed in this world and it was only a matter of time before one of them rose up again. Before someone else sought what Grindlewald and Lord Voldemort had failed to accomplish.

Scorpius needed to be prepared for that eventuality. He needed to attend Hogwarts, to gain an education, friends, to be something in this world. He would see his mother on breaks and a select few weekends of the year, and that would have to be enough. He knew of his mother's curse, it had been the only thing he'd known. He'd grown up knowing his Mum wouldn't always be there. It was a devastating circumstance, but it was theirs all the same. Life couldn't be put on hold forever.

Scorpius pulled away, his platinum hair bouncing as he ran towards the train. Astoria hurried after him, desperate for a few minutes more with her son and leaving Draco to stand alone on the platform. He scanned the crowd, searching for people he had known. He wouldn't approach any of them, not now. He'd been cruel to far too many of them, blinded by hatred that had been ingrained in him.

Now, he was approaching forty. He was no longer the young boy swept up in a war he didn't understand. Even his Slytherin mates were out of the question these days. Crabbe had passed away in his own fiend fyre during the battle, and Goyle had been imprisoned – a fate Draco was lucky not to share. There was Pansy. Out of any of them, she would be the one he would choose. She had been cruel in her own right, a bully, a blood purist like him, and maybe part of her still was. But, now, as Draco watched her across the platform, she was something else as well. A mother, a wife, an adult. They were no longer children after all. Their actions had true consequences and maybe she had learned her lesson like he.

Draco turned away from her, eyes falling on a pack of red hair that could be none other than the Weasleys. Red headed children surrounded them, save for a few, but what stood out amongst the sea of rust was the ever bushy, brunette Hermione. Another regret of his.

Standing among the edge of Weasleys was someone far more familiar, that held a recognition more intimate than any of the other sods in the building – including his wife. Harry Potter. Draco's eyes lingered, unable to help himself.

Perhaps Harry too could feel the charged air between them, the way it sparked with attraction, for his head was lifted, his bright green eyes flecked with gold meeting Draco's own. He broke the contact, leaning into Ginny and whispering something that caused her to nod.

Before Draco could react, Harry was weaving the crowd. People stopped him, muttering their hellos and "how have you beens". Each was responded in a rush before Harry was able to tear himself away, taking only a couple short steps before he was stopped by another.

"The ever famous Harry Potter." Draco smirked once Harry was within earshot.

"You kill one dark wizard and you're branded for life." He rubbed at the faded scar on his forehead.

Silence fell between them. It had been years since they'd spoken And even longer since they'd had a proper conversation. Before that, Draco could admit they hadn't done much talking at all, finding other things to do with their mouths.

"You can stop staring now. My presence is just as welcome here as yours."

Harry gave a tiny jerk of his head. "It wasn't that I didn't expect it, per say…I hadn't realized our boys were the same age."

"That's it then? You reserved me a curious glare because our wives happened to conceive at the same time?"

"You look well, Draco. It's…it's been some time, hasn't it?"

Draco stared back at him, no longer the boy with which he had made out with, had shagged in abandoned classrooms, the room of requirement, even one hurried moment atop Snape's desk. Now, black hair was gradually being replaced by silver and lines had begun to form. Harry was still young, having just turned 37, but the stress of his early life and surely the stress of no longer knowing what to do with himself had aged him. Not that Draco didn't mind the silver fox standing before him. "As do you."

"Scorpius then? That's his name?" He cocked his head in the direction of the little blond boy meters away, one that only a Malfoy could produce.

"Yes. Unlike yourself, I was creative, Potter. Did Ginny get to name any of them?"

Harry shook his head, puffing out his chest. "Seeing as I did all the hard work, we thought it'd only be appropriate that I should name them.

"Two minutes of grunting and thrusting, hard work indeed." Draco rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless, earning him a soft punch to the shoulder.

"Two minutes." Harry shook his head. "Give me more credit than that."

"Alright, three." When Harry looked as though he might hit him again, Draco hurried on. "Alright, alright. Albus Severus is just a fitting name, that's all."

"Fitting?"

"For sentimental Gryffindors, yes."

It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "Are we just going to discuss our children's names, then? Is that all our relationship has boiled down to?"

"What other discussion would you like to have? I'm afraid I'm not up for a debate on the works of Shakespeare."

"Like you know who he is." Harry scoffed. "Just seeing you, here, makes me wonder how different our lives could have been. Had we-"

"Had you not ended things? You made that decision for us."

"Yes, when you were a death eater." The last two words were hissed quieter than the others, an act for which Draco was thankful for.

Once a death eater, always a death eater. Isn't that what you told me?"

"Yes-"

"Then why for Salazar's sake is your child named after Snape."

He was silent, staring down at his shoes as he formulated his answer. "You know as well as I how complicated the war was. Maybe the lines weren't as clearly defined as I once thought."

"Is this supposed to be an apology?"

"The mark didn't define every part of you, just the darkness you felt needed controlling. I know that now."

"The apology comes a little to late, Potter. See that beautiful brunette? Beside the train with Scorpius?"

"She's your wife, I know." The tone in his voice surprised him. There was a want there that Draco hadn't heard in so long. A want he desperately wanted to return.

"Don't sound so disheartened. We're happy together. I won't ruin what I have with her to answer a deeper attraction. Just as you shouldn't with Ginny."

Harry was silent. His eyes fogged with something Draco didn't understand. "What we had was…"

"Passionate? Carnal?"

Harry frowned. "Well, yes, but I was thing more along the lines of 'nice' or 'wonderful'. You were my first love."

"And you mine." Draco glanced over his shoulder before his hand brushed the skin of Harry's. Their pinkies found one another and wrapped themselves together in a sort of pinky promise. "But, that doesn't mean there can't be another, or that it ended."

Harry opened his mouth to speak when the whistle of the train sounded. The noise on the platform grew as final goodbyes were uttered, Draco and Harry's among them. Whatever Harry had been about to say was now lost as Harry turned away, pulling his hand free, and returned to his waiting family.