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Draco stood in front of the castle, now seemingly on its last life and riddled with broken pieces of stone. He cleared a pathway to the front entrance and walked forward into what used to be the courtyard. Looking around he saw statues upturned, collumns torn down, and large sections of wall that had been disintegrated entirely; this wasn’t how he’d expected to return to school and this wasn’t what he’d expected Hogwarts to look like after it all. But Draco didn’t have long to contemplate the ruined architecture as a familiar voice approached, one that once grated on his every nerve but that now brought him a great sense of relief.
“Potter,” Draco said, hopefully watching the man who stood before him. The Boy Who Lived was no longer just a boy. He was taller now, tanner, lean like he hadn’t eaten in days, though Draco supposed he had always looked like he could use a meal. His face was unkempt, unshaven and sunken, but despite everything . . . he was still just as handsome as he remembered.
“Malfoy?”
He looked confused, but another, happier emotion twinkled in his eyes. “What are you doing back here?”
“I came to see you,” answered Draco who mentally cursed his own eager response.
“Well you’ve seen him,” Ron interjected, though with considerably less malice than he normally had towards Draco. “So run along now.”
Harry turned around and signalled for Ron to stand down, then faced Draco again and took a step forward. There were wrinkles by his eyes when he smiled and Draco thought he saw a grey hair by his ear, signs that he had aged more than just a few months since the last time they saw each other. Harry cleared his throat.
“I thought he might’ve killed you,” Harry said.
“Don’t sound so hopeful,” Draco replied.
After defecting to the good side, Draco was worried for his own life too, as well as his parents’ lives. But if there was anything the Malfoys were good at, it was surviving. Besides, Harry was the one who deflected the initial killing spell Voldemort threw at them, giving them just enough time to disapparate and hide as the storm blew over. Draco looked at Harry, shaking his head in disbelief.
“I thought you were . . . you know, after Hagrid brought you back from the forest. But Mother gave me one look and I knew, the bloody bastard had lived again.”
Harry laughed once, shortly. “Your mum saved me that day. I owe her my life.”
“No, Harry. You don’t owe us anything.”
They stood there, only a foot apart; two men who had previously been at each other’s throats now were unlikely allies. Harry suddenly closed the gap between them, embracing Draco deeply and teetering slightly from the force of it. Draco wasn’t anticipating being welcomed so earnestly, not by anyone, but certainly not by this man. Not sure what else to do, he hugged back, feeling like he was in a fever dream. They broke apart soon after and Harry smiled sheepishly, stepping back and nearly tripping over his own feet. Draco looked awkwardly between the trio before turning to Hermione and taking a deep breath.
“I believe I owe you an apology, Granger . . .or um, Hermione?”
She squinted at him.
“Alright, I’ll stick to Granger,” Draco said quickly. “I’m . . . sorry for the way that I’ve treated you, for everything, really. I never meant anything I said and I only said it because I thought it’d please my father.”
Her face was unmoving.
“I don’t actually believe in blood purity, you know. A-Anymore, at least. And to be honest, you’re actually quite scary, which I’ve always thought was a good quality in a witch, regardless of who their parents are.”
Hermione looked him over for a minute with something akin to pity in her eyes. Then she peered over at Harry, contemplating, almost as if to say ‘really?’. Harry nodded in response and she turned back to Draco.
“You’re god awful at apologies, Malfoy.”
“I know,” he said dejectedly, lowering his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Honestly . . .” Hermione said, a hint of a laugh in her voice. “We’ll have you work on that.”
Draco looked up to see her smiling and rolling her eyes. He let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding and turned to face Ron. Ron’s face was even more stern than Hermione’s, but he didn’t let that deter him.
“Weasley I—”
But before he could get the words out, Ron had pulled him over by the arm.
“Oh, come here, you big poof.”
He ruffled Draco’s hair, both disturbing him and pleasing him in an odd way, but he was relieved.
“We’re even now, I suppose,” Ron said. “And I’d much prefer seeing Harry date you than my little sister.”
Draco smiled warily, but Harry chuckled and wrapped his arms around the two, bringing them together. Then after some hesitation, Hermione joined in, though she mainly kept to Ron. Draco’s insides warmed as he was enveloped in probably the most positivity he’d ever experienced in his life. The others pulled away and he was left with just Harry, now holding him by the shoulders and smiling, green eyes glittering in the sunlight. He was beautiful.
“You look different, you know,” Harry said quietly.
“So do you,” Draco responded. “And you stink like you haven’t showered in days, Potter.”
“Well you look like you haven’t slept in days, Malfoy. And you ought to leave the house more. I didn’t think you could get any paler.”
“Really? I think being in hiding has done wonders for my skin. Can’t say the same for you and all your bruises.”
“Yeah, well at least I’ve been out rather than being shut in all this time—”
“Are you two going to kiss already?” Ron called. “Because I’m hungry and I can’t watch you do this all afternoon.”
“You’re always hungry, Ronald,” Hermione muttered.
Draco simply stared at Harry, waiting for his next move. Harry looked back at him, seemingly doing the same thing. Then Draco leaned in, put his hands around the other's neck, and kissed him. It was brief, their mouths only touching for a few seconds, but it was enough. Harry was enough. Draco hung onto him for a bit longer before moving back, then he heard a whooping sound coming from the castle entrance. Draco looked over Harry’s shoulder to see Neville, limping on one side, but still just as cheerful as ever. Neville quickly covered his mouth, shifting into embarrassment as the others looked at him.
“Sorry,” said Neville. “I’d just always secretly hoped you guys would end up together. Luna and I had a bet.”
Draco paused for a second, then laughed his first full–bodied laugh in a long, long time. Harry took his hand, pulling him towards the Great Hall where they would have lunch with those who took refuge after the last battle. And despite the near total destruction of the world, of Draco's whole world, this little moment was enough to make him feel like everything was okay. It was enough.
Harry was enough.