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Harry was sitting on a bench in King Cross Station when it happened.
It was the day after Voldemort’s final defeat, everything was shiny and bright with celebratory garlands all around the magical train station, people came and went, most of them joyfully greeting other witches and wizards that got out of the train wagons, Harry felt almost anonymous under the cover of his invisibility cloak, watching these tearful reunions, trying to convince himself that it had all been worth it, when suddenly in the far side of King Cross Harry was startled to see someone familiar.
It was a young man his age, one he’d seen only the day before with his own family, but unlike then, the young man was no longer dressed in death eater robes or sporting a distinctive frown, in fact, at that moment Draco Malfoy seemed to look almost hopeful.
The former Slytherin prince was standing there in platform five and a half wearing a mint green wizarding robe and holding a bright bouquet of colored sunflowers, with a peaceful smile on his face and a slightly uncertain frown, looking so unlike the bully that had tormented Harry that the boy-who-lived had to rub his glasses to make sure he was seeing correctly.
And then it happened. The train arriving from Switzerland made its final stop and Harry saw a beautiful chestnut haired girl run into Draco’s arms, Draco dropped the flowers and embraced her tightly, spinning her around and almost crushing her to his chest.
When they finally broke apart the girl took Draco’s arm and on seeing the dark mark, hugged him again with more force than before, Harry could see it in the relieved tears on her face that she was genuinely happy, not because he had escaped a trial, or because he was wealthy and handsome, but because Draco was alive despite everything, to this girl, Draco’s life meant everything, the pity in her eyes when she caressed Draco’s dark mark spoke of something deeper than simple affection, an unnamed passion too intense to be anything but pure love, something Harry saw was also mirrored in Malfoy’s face. And there he was, Draco Malfoy, kissing a girl in the middle of King Cross Station, looking like a starved man being offered his first morsel of food, as in love with this stranger as Harry had ever seen him.
Draco kissed her and kissed her again, and she kissed him too, whispering words Harry couldn’t hear, crying and laughing at the same time, it was strange and messy and beautiful, such a happy scene to watch, that despite knowing he was spying on a private moment, Harry didn’t look away, (after all, in the crowded King Cross he knew he wasn’t the only one staring.)
It wasn’t until Harry saw the crest in her suitcase that he realized she was a pureblood girl, the Greengrass coat of arms wasn’t very common even in such a big train station, Harry tried to place her face among the people he knew and although he never paid particular attention to the younger Slytherins, he vaguely remembered the thought of Daphne Greengrass having a younger sister. Harry could easily connect the dots between the girl’s arrival by train and the fact nobody knew of her existence in Draco’s life. Maybe that was the point.
He briefly wondered how difficult it must have been to be raised as Draco had been, where any sane girl even remotely connected to him could have ended up on the wrong side of Bellatrix Lestrange’s wand, or used as target practice in any of Voldemort’s schemes. How hard it must have been to choose between sending her away or getting her killed?.
If he’d had a choice, wouldn’t Harry himself have done the same? Sent Ginny into hiding? And for the first time, Harry Potter felt a small amount of kingship with Draco Malfoy, just because he was beginning to understand what had driven Draco to go against Voldemort when he did, what had made him seek his own survival over everything.
Maybe just like him, Draco Malfoy also had someone to fight for.
And the day after the defeat of Voldemort…. he was finally reunited with her.