Title: To Soothe the Grieving Heart
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Word Count: 459
Author's Note: For dramione_ldws
While he thought that it had been a mistake to come, he knew that it was the right thing to do. He had gone through the entire ceremony commemorating the lives lost at the Battle of Hogwarts a little over two months ago, aloof to the piercing stares that he felt at the back of his head. More than three times he had heard a muffled insult, and he knew it had been no accident when an elderly witch spilled her drink on his robes.
He now stood in front of the mirror in the abandoned girls' lavatory, splashing water on his face, as he tried to escape the heat of the sun and the tears and stares of the crowd. Merlin knows why he chose this particular lavatory above all others, but he almost felt compelled to visit, though he could not look at the patch of the floor that had been once covered in his blood.
Though he did not like to express it, his memories were still painful. He remembered being branded with the Mark. The impossible task. The necklace and Katie Bell. Weasley. Lying in a pool of his own blood. The Vanishing Cabinet. The Astronomy Tower. Fleeing. The Battle.
He winced, trying to push them to the dark corners of his mind. He didn't want to deal with this. Not now.
"Oh, pardon," a woman said as she turned to leave as quickly as she entered the room.
"Hi, Granger," he said quietly. His memories did not cease to fail him. He pictured her writhing from the Cruciatus as his Aunt Bellatrix cackled without mercy.
"Malfoy," she greeted back in surprise, his pained expression not going pass her notice.
She looked different, he noticed, yet her hair was as wild as ever and her sense of style was still atrocious. She looked alive and free. Like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Like she had put all the pain and suffering in the past. Like she could go on for the rest of her life without worrying for her safety.
He felt so envious.
She hesitated, "Would you like to grab a drink with me in the Great Hall? Refreshments are being served."
Draco stared at her puzzled by her invitation. "Why?" he asked, almost defeated.
"Because no one should have to heal alone."
He could have said a thousand different scathing remarks, but he didn't. He could have shrugged off her offer, but he didn't. Without another word, he walked with her to the Great Hall.
Voldemort was dead. The fading Mark on his arm was nothing but a big mistake in his past. The War was over and Draco thought that maybe it was about time for him to heal.