Chapter Text
Despite his uncertainty, Draco found himself trusting Potter. Years of rivalry and hatred had shaped their relationship, yet there was no denying that Potter had a kind heart—one that Draco, despite himself, was beginning to lean into. In the wizarding world, kindness had been a rare luxury. Everyone saw him as a Death Eater, guilty of crimes he hadn’t even committed. No one cared about the truth. But here, in the muggle world, things were different.
The Ashen Blades were more than just a gang; they were the closest thing to family he had ever known. They were sharp, reckless, and witty, yet fiercely loyal. Life with them had been simpler, even if it was built on the edge of a knife. He had enjoyed his time here—he wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
Still, he took Potter with him, introducing him to the Blades. They stared at the newcomer in unabashed interest. Potter was lean but solid, broad-shouldered, his golden-brown skin catching the dim light. His messy curls and sharp green eyes made him stand out even more. Apparently, his looks didn’t go unnoticed.
"Thomas, Henry, Edward—this is Po—uh, Harry," Draco introduced, hesitating slightly. "He's... an old friend from school."
Thomas grinned, leaning forward with interest. "Oh? So you're a friend of Draco's? What was he like in school, pretty boy?"
Harry, clearly used to this level of attention, hesitated before flashing a quick smile. "Sassy, even as a kid. He terrorized half the school."
The Blades burst into laughter.
"Yeah, that sounds like our Draco!" Thomas snorted. "Still a menace, but he’s got a good heart. He helps a lot of people around here—probably the most sympathetic out of all of us."
Draco, mortified, groaned and hid his face in his hands. "Shut up, Thomas…"
Thomas only laughed harder.
Harry watched the exchange with quiet amusement before his expression grew serious. "Actually, I came here for a reason," he said. "I need to bring Draco back home… to London."
The laughter died down.
"Don’t worry," Harry added quickly. "He'll be back. But it might take a while."
Draco felt the weight of those words settle over him. He wasn’t sure if that was true.
"A break would do you good, Draco," Thomas said, patting him on the back. "You're young, and I’m sure your parents miss you. Go home for a while, send us letters, and tell us all about your life."
The others laughed and nodded in agreement, unaware of the pain curling in Draco’s chest like a dagger twisting deeper with each word. Home. They thought he had one—a warm place where his parents waited with open arms, where love was unconditional. They had no idea that all he had was a father who saw him as nothing more than a failure, a disappointment to be beaten into obedience.
He clenched his jaw and forced a small smile. "Yeah… I’ll be back. Don’t worry."
One by one, he hugged the Blades, feeling a lump rise in his throat. He had built something here—something real. They were like the family he never had, accepting him without judgment. The idea of leaving made his chest ache, but he knew he had to. The wizarding world was still his home, whether he liked it or not. He missed Blaise, Theo… even Pansy. He wasn’t sure if they’d even want to see him again, but that didn’t change the fact that he still cared about them.
Draco exhaled shakily as he and Potter made their way toward the nearest Floo Network entrance. The city lights flickered around them, the wind carrying the familiar sounds of a world he had grown attached to.
"You’re bringing all that to the wizarding world?" Potter asked, eyeing the weapons Draco carried.
Draco adjusted the strap of the assault rifle on his back and shrugged. "Yeah. My two pistols, an assault rifle, a machine gun, a couple of grenades, and a machete—just in case." He smirked. "I’m gonna miss throwing hands with muggles. It was fun."
Potter gave him a bewildered look before chuckling. "I thought you hated muggles and muggleborns?"
Draco’s smirk faltered. He glanced away before answering, voice quieter. "I did. But that was because of the bigoted and racist beliefs shoved into my head since birth. Out here, no one gives a damn about blood purity or the mark on my arm. I felt… free." His voice tightened. "The wizarding world already hates me. Why wouldn’t I prefer this?"
Potter’s expression softened, but he didn’t press. Instead, he simply nodded. "Well, for what it’s worth… I don’t hate you."
Draco scoffed, but there was no real bite to it. "Give it time, Potter."
With that, they stepped into the Floo Network, and in a rush of emerald flames, Draco left behind the only home he had ever truly known.