Chapter 11
After returning, Harry refused to tell Hermione and Ron what had happened. He muttered a quiet “good night” and headed upstairs, leaving his concerned friends behind.
The next morning, long before the rest of the castle woke, Harry slipped out of bed. He needed space. Hiding beneath his Invisibility Cloak, he made his way to the library, needing to get away before anyone woke up.
In the Hogwarts archives, he found the yearbooks from his parents’ time at school. He grabbed the ones from their fifth and sixth years and tucked himself away at a secluded table behind the bookshelves. As he flipped through the pages, he saw his parents in a new, almost unrecognizable light.
Hours later, Draco Malfoy found him there, hunched over a moving photograph, his head in his hands. The moving picture showed Lily hugging James after a Gryffindor victory against Slytherin. James had the brightest smile Harry had ever seen, and Lily’s curls bounced as she excitedly jumped up and down, her joy evident.
She looks happy. That was the thought that unsettled Harry most.
Draco’s voice snapped him out of his daze. "Next time you want to distract my godfather, please don't use me as bait."
Harry nearly jumped out of his chair, startled. He hadn’t even heard Malfoy approach.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
Draco crossed his arms, smirking slightly. “Yesterday. Weasley picks a fight with me out of nowhere, Snape leaves his office to break it up, and when he goes back to his office, he runs out immediately? Please. I don’t know what you did, but you did something.”
Harry hesitated, gripping the edges of the yearbook a little tighter. “So what makes you think I did something?” he asked, trying to deflect.
Draco scoffed. “Because he yelled your name when he left his office and no one’s seen him since last night. And when I went to have tea with him this morning, he’d left a note saying he was in France, visiting a friend.” He leaned forward slightly. “And let’s be honest, Potter—Snape doesn’t take spontaneous trips. He doesn’t just leave Hogwarts, especially not this close to the holidays. In fact, I didn’t even know he had friends.”
Harry’s heart clenched, but he kept his expression neutral. “He had one friend once,” he muttered. His eyes flickered down to the picture of his mother, a bitter taste in his mouth.
Draco gave him a searching look before pulling out a chair and sitting down, unceremoniously slouching into it. “Alright, Potter, what’s going on? You look like someone’s just shattered your entire world.”
Harry exhaled heavily, running a hand through his already-messy hair. If anyone could understand what he was feeling right now, it was Draco. They had both idolized their fathers. Both had followed in their footsteps, only to be forced to realize how deeply flawed they truly were.
“I found out something about my dad last night,” Harry admitted. “I don’t even think I can say it out loud yet, but… he’s not the hero I thought he was.” He hesitated, then looked at Draco. “How did you come to terms with it? How did you accept that your father hurt so many people? And how did you make amends with Hermione?”
Draco sighed, leaning back. “Snape helped me a lot,” he admitted. “That’s actually where our tea thing started. He made me realize that I don’t have to carry guilt for what my father did. But I do have to take responsibility for what I did—because I blindly believed him.” Draco’s fingers tapped against the wooden table. “I saw Granger. I saw how much better she was than me, despite everything. And I had to swallow my pride, work up the courage to apologize, and mean it. She forgave me, eventually—but only on the condition that I actually work on being better.” He exhaled. “And that’s what I’m doing.”
Harry stared at him, absorbing every word. “But don’t you still feel bad?”
Draco was quiet for a moment. “Yeah,” he admitted. “All the time. Especially when I have to confront my own privilege.”
Harry swallowed hard. “How do you get over it?”
Draco shook his head. “You don’t. You just stop making it about yourself.” His voice was steady. “Guilt is about you. But making amends? That’s about them.”
Harry stared at him, something heavy settling in his chest.
Draco let him sit with that for a moment before arching an eyebrow. “So? Are you going to tell me what actually happened?”
Harry sighed. He figured if Draco had been vulnerable enough to tell the truth, he owed him the same. “I found out my dad planned an attack on Snape and blamed Sirius for it. He also messed with their memories of it. Everyone’s shaken up—Remus and Sirius can’t even process it, and Snape…” He let out a bitter laugh. “He left the country. But not before making sure I knew just how much I treated him like garbage too.”
Draco’s expression darkened slightly. “Was this attack in their fifth year?”
Harry blinked. “Yeah—how do you know that?”
Draco shrugged. “My mother told me about it. She and my father visited Snape in the hospital wing every day. Brought him his homework. He wouldn’t tell them what happened, but she said he was—” He hesitated, then met Harry’s eyes. “—shaken.”
Harry felt his stomach twist. “Did your mum mention anything about mine being there?”
Draco’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Only that she and Snape got into a huge fight on his first day in the hospital wing.”
Harry clenched his jaw. “See, that’s what I don’t get! No one knew the truth about the attack, but my mum still knew dad had bullied Snape. So why would she agree to go out with him a year later?”
Draco sighed. “Maybe she didn’t know the full extent of it. Maybe your dad manipulated her. Maybe she didn’t care. Maybe it’s something else entirely.” He stood up, brushing dust off his robes. “You won’t get every answer, Potter. Some things are just lost to time. You can either believe in the worst of them or the best of them. Or you could recognize that they are humans, not your ‘perfect parents’.”
Harry frowned, staring at the yearbook again, unsatisfied.
Draco nudged his arm. “Come on. We’re already late for breakfast.”
Harry closed the book and followed him out, but the questions still swirled in his mind, refusing to settle.