Chapter 1
"Do you know why I did the things I did?"
That was the last sentence Malfoy has ever said to Harry since the war had ended and that scene kept playing over and over again in his mind like a broken record.
He'd spent all his life hating the boy and in the end? They where exactly the same. Hating an imagined version of the other that didn't fully exist, groomed to represent one side of a war they had no business being apart of, both doing things they should never have done to protect the ones that they loved, both branded with magic so deep in their blood that it's impossible to remove. In the aftermath of the war, the lines between right and wrong had blurred and for the first time in his life, Harry actually considered the possibility of forgiving Malfoy. Of being freinds. Or atleast acquaintances.
He'd thought long and hard about the whole thing. But how would he even approach the subject with the Malfoy?
"Ay! Harry! You alive mate?" A freckled hand came into Harry's veiw, frantically waving Infront of him trying to get his attention
"Harry? Are you alright? You've been staring at the Slytherin table for a while now..." Hermione asked looking at him like she knew exactly what was wrong.
"Huh? Oh. I'm fine. Just...erm...zoned out? I guess.." Hermione and Ron shared a knowing look and Hermione rolled her eyes "look harry, I know old habits die hard but I seriously thought we'd be able to get through this year without you staring at malfoy like he was the literal sun."
"I'm not staring! I'm...observing."
"Oh really???" Hermione shot Harry a look "tell me harry, what is so interesting about malfoy eat breakfast. Please. Enlighten me about all of the marvels that are cause by malfoy eating breakfast." She said with an exhausted sigh.
There was a moment of silence before Harry angrily got up and left the great hall without a word.
It true potter fashion Harry had been confronted and unsure of what to do, he ran. Not something he was proud of but it was better than accidentally saying something he would regret.
Walking through the halls was always relaxing, the hogwarts staff had managed to fix most if not all of the castle, it looked pretty much the same with a few minor differences, the paintings weren't in their exact spot, the windows looked different, the entrances had been completely remodeled, small things that reminded you that the place had grown and changed after the war.
It was beautiful especially at night, the halls were dark but lit up by the moon and it gave them a secluded feel, it gave Harry a break from the eyes that followed him around in the day time, he got to be the spectator instead of the event.
A change that he'd embraced with open arms.
Breathing heavily and with sweat dripping his forehead Harry stared out the open window, the nightmares about Voldemort has stopped when he died but now Harry was plagued with something much worse.
Everyday like clockwork he'd wake up in a sweat and on the verge of a breakdown, he could handle dreams about the dark lord, he was used to that but he wasn't used to waking up everyday and having the only thing he can briefly remember being his freinds and other civilians being tortured by death eaters,
the media has casted harry as the main victim of Voldemort and in a sense he was. What plagued harry the most was how many of his freinds had been inclose contact with Voldemort, yes he had to fight him on multiple occasions but he never spent more than like. An hour at best with him.
Harry felt bad for the people who were tortured on a daily basis by him. I mean, Luna was locked in his basement for weeks on end, the whole of hogwarts had to indure the carrows and their sadist ways for *months*.
He felt like an imposter.
When Harry finally got his breathing under control he decided to go for a walk. Maybe the cool air of the night would soothe his nerves.
The seventh years had a bit more freedom than all of the other years but they still had a bit of a curfew, so Harry brought his cloak and map with him.
30minoutes later and a years worth of stairs harry found himself, once again, at the top of the astronomy tower. A place that he hadn't visited since....well. that.
From here he could see all of the hogwarts grounds. It was mersmarising.
From up here, harry could see the gardens, the flowers had all bloomed, making the whole area look lavish and comforting, like the kind of place an artist would dedicate years of their life to painting.
In the distance, he spotted a figure within the garden. Curiosity piqued, Harry couldn't resist investigating. Acting on instinct, he quietly descended the tower stairs, maneuvered through the halls, and slipped into the garden, grateful for his invisibility cloak.
As he approached, he recognized the familiar blond hair—Malfoy. Seated in a secluded area surrounded by trees and rose bushes, Malfoy appeared relaxed, a sight Harry had never witnessed before. Harry couldn't help but watch him, feeling somewhat like a voyeur. What was Malfoy doing out in the gardens at such a late hour?
Engrossed in a book, bathed in wand lights, Malfoy seemed at peace. Harry took a step closer, but his presence was betrayed by the snapping of a twig. Cursing under his breath, Harry froze, hoping to remain unnoticed. Malfoy, alerted by the sound, scanned the area, searching for its source. Sensing the need to retreat, Harry quietly slipped away, leaving Malfoy to his solitude.