Author's Note; Again, I've been a little dickhead and failed to update properly. I know this chapter is not long, but I hope you like it loves, it feels right where i ended it. I think you're owed an explanation:

I've been depressed lately, truly and completely depressed. It's very miserable, hard as i'm sure some of you know, and that is the only explanation I can give. I've been unable to come up with anythign good which is why i've been focusing on my other fics. Had a terrible summer, and school isn't much better, adding to being very busy is all it's accomplished. And I haven't felt the same drive to keep going with this fic until now. Sorry xx

{}

Don't tell me the bad news,
Don't tell me anything at all.
Just tell me that you need me;
And stay right here with me.
If you want me to wait, I will wait for you,
If you tell me to stay, I will stay right through.
If you don't wanna say anything at all,
I'm happy wondering.
- Wondering, Good Charlotte

The mood is melancholy; ironic actually.

Today is a celebration, not a mourning we've been told. Be happy, not sad.

It's been exactly one year since the battle. So much loss, so much sacrifice, and we're meant to be proud that we won, we're meant to feel as if we're veterans who deserve the utmost respect for death and destruction. Even if we were doing it for the 'greater good', it doesn't cancel out the fact that people risked their whole life for it. I refuse to be in high spirits because of that.

All day long I've been shot dark looks from everyone around me, I've never felt more alone. Ginny was holed up in the common room, and he hasn't been in class. Draco's missing, and he didn't inform me prior to making this decision. We were both jumpy when McGonagall informed us that there would be a 'Memorial Ceremony'. And yet…..I still thought he'd be here.

Be here sitting next to me in uncomfortable wooden chairs in this massive stone hall that isn't so Great. But he's not.
So I'm solitary, next to a random Hufflepuff first year, while names of everyone who are long gone are read out in a list as if they're ingredients for a recipe rather than souls buried into the dirt. And Harry is up there in front, Ron settled beside him. Ginny is with Luna, they got here before me and they're further away than I wish they were. All of us are fighting the tears I wish would come. But I'm numb, because this is much harder than I anticipated, these memories flashing in and out of my head are making me wonder if I've gone insane today.

Ron and I kissed exactly one year ago, around this same hour too. The first time we finally succumbed to one another, to admit we were in love, or what I thought it must be. And that same night, Draco, my current boyfriend, snuck into the Room of Requirement on some sort of ego mission to retrieve his wand. Why? I ask myself this questions maybe once every day.
He was a coward that night. I can recall him telling Crabbe and Goyle not to kill Harry, or us, but that doesn't mean anything. He should've known how powerless he'd become compared to his 'friends'. Why did he do such horrible things in the past? Those actions accidentally killed a student, even if he was foul, even if he tried to curse me with Avada kedavra; Crabbe died.

And it's odd how I can only imagine…in all this, about Draco, and not my fear that he could make those mistakes again. He won't. Somehow…I'm certain of it.
It's more that he's experiencing such an intense guilt that he can't even bring himself up out of bed. That he thinks he doesn't deserve the 'privilege' to be sat here with the rest of us. He's a victim in this, too. He didn't want to be a Death Eater, he wanted to save his family, and look who raised him? You think he'd be able to make good decisions with prejudiced parents? Of course not.
He was pardoned, given another chance. The past is gone, I don't see why nobody can see this. It's not as if I want to forget, but I don't understand why they have to punish him for attempting to live a different life when it's clear he's sorry.

Miserable, I'm miserable. I want Harry and Ron back, I want Ginny to be happy again. I want us all to get along together, but it's my fault for choosing Draco, I knew they would react that way. This was supposed to be the year of no pain.
Why did I have to go and fall in love?

"Why did I have to go and fall in love?"

Staring at this ceiling again, the words spill out of my mouth. I was so damn joyful when she chose me, I should be in a state of constant bliss. But I'm not.
The only coherent, consistent thought that runs through my head is that I am not worthy of her, and I will never earn the right.

This wonderful merriment of the commemoration of Battle isn't helping at all. What are we celebrating? The defeat of the Dark Lord and his followers. His Death Eaters.
And I was one of them; what I'll always be. It's branded here, on my fucking skin, forever.
No good, I'm no good. Everything was so much better when I was ignorant of how much of a prick I was and am. I have had recurring nightmares for the past few days of Crabbe rising from his grave, floating to me; taunting me.

"Why do you to live when you dragged me to find Potter in the first place, huh Malfoy?"

He talks to me, he smiles at me, and then bursts into flame. I haven't been able to sleep.

Yet I don't want to leave my sheets.

I don't know what to do.

I should've just gotten up, I should be upstairs instead of wallowing, next to Hermione, pretending like I don't care what people think. But that façade I used to play has runs its course, and I just don't see myself ever being able to convince anybody again that I'm worth more than I am. I care far more than I could ever admit, I so desperately desire to just blend in, instead of standing out like a gaping wound on an otherwise untouched body that bleeds and stains everything it touches. This green and silver has marked me forever like the tattoo, my name I once prided will prevent me from ever getting anywhere in life. I know it, I know it.

I made a promise to my sanity that I will try for her, but she's become low. She has to be. She's up there getting glares twenty-four-seven. Potter will start a scene next time I see him when we're alone. Punching Weasley was a bad idea, it felt too damn good for me to properly anticipate the consequence.
It just boils down to the fact that never will I like those two. How is this going to end?

How could I possibly let this run its course, knowing the path leads to a choice she's going to be forced to make?

Well sitting here solves nothing, my brain reminds me, as I become acutely aware of my heart pumping violently in my chest.
I sit up.

They'll probably kick me out the Great Hall.

"I must be out of my mind."

"So let us never forget the men, women, children, and loyal creatures such as centaurs and house elves, who helped save the Wizarding World. Let them rest forever in our memories, not as legend, but as souls and beings with individual emotions, individual motives, but the same brave spirit to go forth and vanquish evil that we vow never to see again. Let us celebrate our lives, and the people who still live on, many sitting in this room, who survived a war to see the light of day, and created a change that will move mountains for future generations. And finally, let us continue with our happiness forevermore, thanking our stars and our minds for the success we have had."

Though the ceremony has drug on with discomfiting speeches, and songs, and just things that make us feel terrible, we're all weeping from the memories.
Our Headmistress is crying, something that makes her appear even more resilient than I remember. She has a stern smile as the tears roll down her cheeks, a defiant stare to all her pupils, most of whom are reacting the same, but are careless as they clap.

"And now, a few words from the boy who is responsible for the ultimate death of Lord Voldemort," she continues, ignoring the flinches from the audience, "Harry Potter."

A resounding applause echoes off the windows and back to Harry, who has stood up, obviously nervous. He's always hated this kind of attention, but I can tell with the way he walks that he has a sense of duty, and a deep seated want, to pay his respects.

"People have always praised me as the reason Voldemort was defeated," he begins, clearing his throat, shuffling uncomfortably in front of a podium. "The truth is, that it was all fate, a prediction that I was chosen to do it. And while I appreciate the thanks that everyone has given me over the years, it's thanks to everyone, everyone in this room, beyond this room, and those that gave great sacrifice, that he was. He wasn't alone, he wasn't just one man, he had followers. While I had friends. I would've failed without you all, some I'd like to take time to name."

A hush is over the crowd now, wondering who he will say. Eyes are on the back of my head, my face must be redder than it feels.

"The first person, who is the sole reason for allowing me understanding and gain the confidence to try and win….is Severus Snape." Everyone tenses. "For all his faults and his callousness, he convinced the Dark Lord he was on his side and got all the information that we needed to plan evasion for years. He loved my mother, Lily, and out of his adoration for her memory, he saved me countless times, and took great hatred from everyone to continue the guise he vowed to take. I should've trusted Dumbledore's words, Snape remains to be the bravest man I ever knew."

Now he's choking on his words, and it's killing Ginny. She's sobbing.
It's killing me.

When he continues talking about Dumbledore, then about Sirius, Remus….just everyone, I can't stop my tears and my burning face. Hargid had been off a lot to spend time with Madame Olympe, but he's here for this event. And his cries are the most audible, as he blows into a handkerchief. Now he's talking about the Weasley family, about his friendship with Ron….god, it's so tragic, so beautiful.

"And Hermione….I couldn't have done anything without her."

I'm frozen.
Is this real? Is this actually happening?

"She rescued Ron and I so many times I can't count them all. She stayed with me through everything, all the ups and downs….and gave up protecting her family for me…she's the smartest, most selfless person I think I'll ever meet. And I can't thank her enough, I'll never be able to express my gratitude enough."

Vivid green eyes are piercing mine, and everybody's got theirs on me now, but I couldn't care less. This is his apology, this is how he wants to make amends, in a totally non-Harry way. Showy, grandiose, and it's not less meaningful because it's in public. In doing this, I know he's trying to tell everyone else to leave me alone. (And maybe get Ginny back). Smiling at me, I return the gesture…

…When suddenly, his vision flickers away from me, his face goes slack at something behind me. And like clockwork, when I turn round, everyone follows.

At the entrance, it's Draco.
It's fucking Draco.

Looking proper, wearing a suit, now white as a ghost now everyone's attention is trained on him, he must've been hoping to slip in unnoticed. Maybe he's been standing there for ages.
The intense happiness I've just experienced has been sucked away, now it's replaced with a heavy filling of dread that's dropped my stomach to my knees.

What transpires after this shock of being appreciated, and basically given a plea asking for forgiveness could ruin it. Because Harry is a mate, but he still hates Malfoy's guts, so what is he going to do? Say nothing?
Doubt it.

Shooting looks back to Harry, to see this twisted verdict, nothing would've prepared me for it when it comes.
"Finally I'd like to thank one more person…someone who I should've given more credit for in the beginning. And that person is Narcissa Malfoy."

Nobody would be more surprised if Harry was transfigured into a frog. I chance a glance at Draco, and he's swallowing a lump in his throat, shaking like a madman.

"Voldemort had just tried to kill me. I was hit with Avada Kedavra…I was on the ground. And somehow…I wasn't dead. But, all the witnesses thought me to be. And he sent Narcissa over to me, check for a pulse. All she wanted in that moment was to know one thing." He clears his throat. "Was her son alive?"

A bit of a ripple runs through the crowd, but McGonagall raises her arm and it's quiet again.

"I told her he was, even though I couldn't know for sure. But she believed me, and she lied. She told him one word that might haunt me forever: "Dead." Like a fool, Voldemort trusted her, and they had Hagrid carry me to the courtyard, and while he was distracted, I managed to escape. The rest is history.
"She saved my life in the end, and is one of the main reasons why I got away from danger and back to friends. See, even if she didn't like muggleborns, Narcissa - and I suspect she doesn't care about prejudice anymore - even if her husband was a Death Eater…what mattered most to her was her family. All she wanted was to protect her family, and maybe staying on the bad side for so long was the only way she knew how to do it. And deep down, I think…maybe I have misjudged people so strongly in the past for doing what they did because I couldn't understand why they'd done it.
"All this hatred that exists in the world is because we're people fighting other people we refuse to give a chance based on things we know of them, and if we can't let that go, we can't…move on, we'll never grow, never prosper. It's taken me far too long to realize that the message we must send in the future is to forgive, and while in defending what we think is right, we have to be open to those who are different."

Striding away from the podium, I have nothing intelligent in my head. There are claps, and murmurs, and confusion as to why Draco Malfoy's mother would ever do such a thing, but I couldn't give. Before I realize what I've done, I've stood up and ran to Harry, awkwardly navigating through the chairs, to engulf him in a hug. Everyone disappears for a moment, I forget they're even there as he's embracing me back, just whispering 'I'm so sorry,' in my ear.
"I was thinking about what today means, about you know, what we've been through. And I've been horrible. I've…I've been acting the way I would never want someone else to be. I was acting as bad as Malfoy used to be. And I'm sorry."

Leaning back, I grin though my sight is blurred, and he immediately remembers where he is, blushing now. But I'm not embarrassed.
He sits down, breathes deep, and sends me a message with his face that definitely reads 'go'.

Despite feeling intrusive to the order of things, I choose, instead of going to my seat, to the back of the room.
His head is in his hands, he's whimpering. So I grab Draco, and we sink onto the floor, and I hold him until he stops.
Which isn't until it's all over, thankfully soon after Harry has had his say. I think it's really shaken up the whole tone of everything. It was meant to be full of pride, and we're all upset instead.

So I watch as Draco's nestled into my neck, as Neville and friends pat Harry on the back to tell him his speech was good, I'm assuming. Luna is bounding towards me, Ginny reluctantly in tow as she gazes longingly behind her.

"That was very interesting," Luna comments in her usual tone. "Harry's speech was lovely."

"Are you alright?" Ginny asks, rolling her eyes secretly, reaching us and bending down to touch my knee. "Draco, are you okay?"
I nod, and he removes his hand from my back to give her a weak thumbs up.

"Fuck, Harry's coming over. I'm glad that he said those things to you, I wish you luck in making up."

"Where are you going?" I ask, astonished. I've never seen her quite so edgy.

"Running away before my resolve weakens. I've spent the whole damn morning crying, spent the last who knows how long crying. I'm sorry, but I hate this celebration, and I want it to end. Being nice to you doesn't mean shite, to be honest. It doesn't change what he's done. He loves you, right? This is inevitable. He hasn't apologized for being a complete arse to him yet," she points to a blond head. "And he has to grovel on his knees to me before I even look at him. So….see you later."

She flips that hair and bounces out, dragging Luna.
Harry looks downtrodden that she's going away, but he comes up to me anyways, by himself, and most have a good sense to continue filing out of the hall and avoiding us like Black Death.

Before he opens his mouth, fumbling on his words, I say: "It's alright. I forgive you."

"Actually, I wanted to talk to Malfoy."

Bewildered, I feel Draco go stiff in my grasp, but I nudge him, and he removes himself from my neck, leaving it cold.
Harry is about to speak but before something comes out: "Just shut up, Potter."

Our mouths are open, I think there's going to be an altercation, but instead Draco burst into more tears.
"Just – fuck you for making me cry. Fuck you for making me actually respect you a bit. Why say such nice things about my mother?"

Sighing in relief, a muffle chuckled escapes my throat, while Harry's brows are shot up to his skull.
"All I was going to tell you was that I want to give you a chance. You made an effort to show me you regret things, and just. I don't know, I don't know what to say."

"It was a nice speech, Potter," he says, and it's a dismissal.
So he leaves.

"I love you. I'm glad you sorted it out."
He's squeezing tight, pecking me on the cheek.

"Have you sorted it?" I question, smoothing his hair down.

"I hope so. I know I didn't turn up earlier, but I was just – terrified," his voice drops, as if he'd only just realized.

"I figured as much. It's not a nice day. Do you want to get out of here? Go for a walk? Before we have to get back in?"

"Yes."

Sitting by the lake, I don't exactly comprehend what's just happened. One minute I'm wallowing in self-pity under a comforter, the next I'm daring to step foot with the non-Slytherins and getting an almost direct apology from The Golden Boy, himself.
Literally, I couldn't handle it. It's as if my emotions have been shot to pieces and they're all mixing up and making me feel them intensely at random.

"You alright?" this gorgeous, fantastic woman beside me asks.

"Fine. Like, actually fine. Just feel weird, I guess. Like I could actually breathe. This whole time I've felt as if I've dove into the sea, gasping for air. And a few times I've been able to surface, but most of the time I've been under, drowning. And…I've reached the shore now."

"I hope you can stay there," she murmurs, draping her arms round me.

"Same."

I can't help it, I can't help tilting in to her and kissing her.
Like fire our attraction just heats with one touch. I believe now that we've had a taste of each other it's impossible to stop. We've been at it all week. In the library, in the bloody bathroom. And now she's got her fingers on my neck, grazing my trousers, and it's just fucking magic.

It's intense the way our bodies seem to respond to each other, the way I can get her skirt off and she'll unzip my trousers and we melt into one another so easily as if we're one person.

"I've never felt this way before," I tell her, as she's moaning my name against my lips, filling her so deep as she gives me everything to make me feel like I'm a king, like she really cares for me. "Fuck, you're amazing."

"I love you. Fuck, I'm so close -"
And she's digging her nails into my chest, screaming into my neck.

But she keeps going, grinding against me roughly as the sun goes down until I can't bloody take it.
She gets up, still so wet, only to bend over me and finish me off. And swallow.

It's the most erotic thing that's ever been done to me, Pansy refused to do any of that sort of thing. My jaw must be unattractively slack.

How the bloody Christ did I go from a mess to bliss?
"I must be dreaming."