Disclaimer: all characters and the wider wizarding world belong to J. K. Rowling.

Molly Weasley watched as her two youngest walked arm-in-arm with their closest friends along Diagon Alley. The shops had mostly reopened, although some remained boarded, a painful reminder of the war, but now covered with posters for the latest broom or a new anti-ageing product for her to ignore.

There were the usual people stopping and staring, but after signing a few autographs in the Leaky Cauldron and then a few more when they arrived in the alley, Molly had ushered them along, announcing loudly that school supplies didn't buy themselves and they'd been left pretty well alone since then. Although, they did always seem to skip any queues and get served by the proprietors of any shop, but she supposed a few perks were to be expected. She saw it as her job to make sure the fame didn't go to their heads and so far they had all behaved admirably, she thought, motherly.

"Mione we need to get you some new robes - you lost weight on the run and you could do with splashing out on something snazzy for that new figure," Ginny mused as they walked past Madam Malkins. Hermione simply scoffed and abandoned Ron in favour of dragging her friend off towards the bookshop.

"Books and school supplies first, Gin, then maybe I'll let you torture me with clothes shopping while the boys drool over the latest broom."

Ginny frowned.

"Don't see why those two are mutually exclusive," she grumbled.

"What you on about, Gin?" yelled Ron as he and Harry slowly gravitated towards the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Boys!" Mrs Weasley yelled after them, as the girls erupted into giggles. It was such a normal, happy day that they didn't realise anything was amiss until Ginny got pushed aside by someone yelling.

"Oi! Watch where you're going, Mister!" the redhead yelled as Hermione righted her, but her assailant didn't even notice her; he was focused on a gathering crowd outside Ollivander's newly reopened shop. The five started moving towards the commotion, Molly keeping a close eye on the four youngsters in her care. The war might be over but those instincts weren't going anywhere soon.

"Death Eater scum!"

"Buy your freedom, did you?"

Harry, Hermione and Ron shared a glance and pushed through the throng to reach the front. Molly grabbed her children and held them back but Harry and Hermione were too quick and she didn't have enough hands. There were gasps from the crowd when they realised who had arrived.

Harry reached the front first, the crowd finally thinning to reveal Draco and Narcissa Malfoy standing outside Ollivander's shop. He surveyed the situation before him carefully. He might not have liked the Malfoys but since his discussion with Ginny several weeks previously, he knew he wanted to give them a second chance, if they wanted to take it.

Draco stood in front of his mother, his hand on his pocket in a gesture Harry recognised all too well. His mother looked around her at the gathering crowd as if she were bored, but both Harry and Hermione suspected she was just keeping her cards close to her chest and was really surveying her surroundings with keen interest. Hermione caught Harry's eye and nodded once, almost imperceptibly. They didn't need to communicate anymore, months of being on the run had them attuned to one another.

Harry pocketed his wand as Hermione gripped hers tighter, as a precaution. He stepped towards the pair, running his hand through his hair in a nervous gesture.

"Malfoy."

Draco focused on the man in front of him only long enough to assess whether he was an immediate threat before his eyes began darting around the crowd again.

"Potter."

Harry nodded at the greeting, reminded of his first meeting with Buckbeak, with no small amount of amusement.

"Mrs Malfoy," he began hesitantly, and cleared his throat before beginning again, somewhat louder. "Mrs Malfoy, I'm glad I've found you, I was hoping to speak to you."

He fussed his hair again, and caught Hermione's eye for courage. The Weasleys had gathered behind her and she was holding onto Ron's wrist but Harry noticed he didn't seem to be so angry, sensing the delicate situation the angry mob provided.

"I wanted to thank you, for what happened in the forest," Harry continued, somewhat louder than normal speech, but making sure to enunciate every word so the now-silent crowd could hear. "If you hadn't lied to Voldemort for me, I would never have defeated him. We all owe you an immense debt of gratitude."

He stuck out his hand toward the impassive witch in front of him.

Narcissa thought he had the subtlety of a brick, and it was clear he was no tactical mastermind, but the gesture was more than she had hoped for. She took his hand and shook it slowly.

"It was what any mother would have done, Mister Potter. I owe you more than a debt of gratitude for ridding us of that monster before it was too late."

Draco was busy scanning the surrounding crowd for any continued threat. Although their stunned silence had descended into hushed whispers at Potter's revelations, he still felt exposed and worried for his and his mother's safety. He was so distracted he barely noticed the hand in front of him, until his eyes swung back to his mother.

Harry stood in front of Malfoy, hand outstretched and cleared his throat again.

"You once offered me your hand in friendship, and I turned you down. I'm not going to say I was wrong, I did it for all the right reasons, and I think you know that, but I thought it was about time I made up for that."

Draco was truly stunned. He looked at his mother, whose eyes were shining so very slightly, he thought he might have imagined it.

He grabbed Harry's hand and shook it deliberately. There was a definite smirk in the smile of the bespectacled man in front of him and he found his lip curl into a glimmer of a smirk in return.

"Thanks, Potter. I understand and I'd like to think a lot has changed and that boy doesn't exist any more," he confessed, catching his mother's eye. "I'm looking forward to trying to make the most of my final year at school, clean slate and all that."

The crowd began to murmur again, and Narcissa sensed their quiet could only be bought for a few moments, the adults who had lived through one or two wars were not so keen to forgive a marked Death Eater, no matter how young. She cleared her throat and stepped past the two young men before her.

"Miss Granger, I wondered if I might have a moment of your time."

Hermione's eyes snapped to the older witch before her, her fingers still tight around the handle of her wand. Nothing seemed to phase the woman, it was a miracle really. She looked immaculate in expensive robes, like being surrounded by an angry mob whilst out shopping was part of a normal routine for her. Perhaps this was nothing compared to the horrors she'd witnessed last year - a disturbing thought in itself.

"Mrs Malfoy," she acknowledged, cautiously.

"I was hoping for a more private audience, but I doubt we shall have the opportunity", Narcissa continued, sparing a single look down her nose at the still whispering crowds. "I wished to apologise for what happened - for what I allowed to happen - under my own roof earlier this year."

Hermione's eyes glazed over slightly and her hand went to her left arm automatically. Ron shifted beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder protectively, but Hermione was glad he didn't do anything more obvious.

"My sister-" Narcissa added, and Molly stiffened at Hermione's side. "My sister was not a well woman. In some ways she died in Azkaban.

"I can understand if you don't wish to accept my apology but I offer it regardless," Narcissa finished, curtly.

Hermione hesitated, her eyes flicked from the pristine witch in front of her to the two boys behind her, one awkward and obviously worried for her, the other impassive, to the arm casually draped over her shoulder and the flame haired women to her side. She didn't know what to say. She didn't feel like a public apology was sufficient, but at the same time it was more - much more - than she'd expected from the Malfoys. But accepting the apology meant dredging up feelings and thoughts she was trying very hard to bury, and she was likely to have a repeat of her nightmares tonight as a result.

Having stood motionless for a fraction too long, Ron took it upon himself to start to turn her away.

"Alright, everyone can disperse now, we need some space here, don't you think!" He yelled as he pulled the seemingly comatose witch into his arms to shield her from prying eyes. The crowd started to move away slowly, some stragglers still hoping to get something gossip-worthy from the encounter.

Narcissa turned to her son and his unlikely ally again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause any-"

"I accept," Hermione blurted, slightly muffled by Ron's arms, from which she promptly freed herself. She strode to the older woman and stuck out her hand.

"I accept your apology, Mrs Malfoy. I meant what I said in court, it was clear for both of you, you didn't want to be there any more than I did. I accept your apology, and no lasting harm done, not really."

Narcissa took her hand and shook it delicately. She made a note never to underestimate the young woman in front of her, she had hidden strengths even Narcissa had to admire. She watched as three red heads enveloped the young woman in the circles of their arms. A flimsy notion, she thought, a cocoon to protect her, but there was no protection from memory.

She had always despised the Weasleys. They were blood traitors, associating with mud- muggleborns, she corrected, mentally - and the other enemies of blood supremacy. Her husband had tried several times to get Arthur Weasley fired, or arrested, unsuccessfully. But no matter what befell them they always seemed to keep smiling, keep going. With all the rethinking she'd done over the summer, and with Lucius behind bars, she saw no reason to continue a ridiculous feud, particularly one she didn't believe in. Besides, this woman was a friend of her last remaining sister; she had nothing to lose.

"Molly," she began, but too softly to be heard clearly by the retreating group, she cleared her throat to begin again.

"Molly."

The group stopped in their tracks and looked at the Malfoy matriarch. She still had that haughty look but she had definitely just said Mrs Weasley's name.

"Narcissa," Molly replied with a clipped tone.

"I wanted to offer you my condolences," Narcissa continued. "I thought I had lost Draco in the final battle and when young Mr Potter here told me he was still alive in the castle the relief I felt, well, what I mean is, to lose a child is an awful thing and I'm so terribly sorry."

Molly had tears in her eyes before she'd even finished. Ron stepped up behind her and put an arm around her shoulders.

"Thank you, Narcissa. That's much appreciated."

Narcissa extended her thin hand toward the older witch and, after a moment of shock, she shook her hand and the two parted.

Draco watched this with a lump in his throat. He knew his mother was politically minded and in the new order if she wasn't going to be ostracised completely she would have to mend bridges his father had all but destroyed over the last few years but he hadn't expected it to be quite so heartfelt. He knew his mother liked to keep everything close to her chest, like a good pureblood, but that was definitely a genuine display of emotion. She must be doing it for more than just politics.

He surveyed the rest of the group; Potter, Granger and Weaselette. He was surrounded by Gryffindors. He supposed it was better than being surrounded by Death Eaters. His perspective had changed a lot in the past year.

"Draco, I find I'm quite tired of shopping, I should like to head home."

Draco understood the instruction in her words and nodded. He turned again to Potter as the others broke away.

"Potter," he began, unsure if the display of friendship was just for the masses.

The black haired boy adjusted his glasses and smiled, sticking his hand out again.

"Malfoy, I hope you meant what you said about starting over, last year of school and all that."

Draco smirked at the man in front of him and shook his hand firmly, not wanting to show his surprise at being treated so cordially.

"Of course - I suppose I should thank you for putting in a good word with McGonagall for me-"

"That was Hermione, actually," Harry said, watching for any flicker of reaction on the face of his childhood nemesis.

"Interesting," Draco mumbled, "I must make a note to thank her next time I see her, assuming she'll let me speak, of course."

That surprised a laugh out of his adversary - former adversary.

Draco thought although it hadn't been subtle, it was a hell of a lifeline he'd just thrown him and his mother, and he wasn't about to overlook it. That evening the events of the day and the words of his mother from the morning of the trial ran around his head, keeping him awake until he was forced to get up and go for a run to calm his mind.

As head of the House of Malfoy it was up to him to redeem their name, and if The Boy Who Lived was going to give him a lifeline, he was going to have to swallow his pride and take it with both hands. The Malfoy name might not have been the most honest in the past, but if that was the new currency Draco intended to be rich in it, by any means.