Chapter 1
The great hall was buzzing with excitement an after-effect of the recent sorting, as the 1st years adjusted to their new house placements, gazing around the vast hall with wide, innocent eyes and returning students caught up with friends. The sound of chatter echoed around the large hall, noticeably quieter than the previous years, as the teaching staff observed their students from the high table trying to avoid their gaze from straying to the empty seats across the house tables. The Slytherin table had the most prominent vacancies, as many of the older house members had not returned due to their association with Voldemort during the Second Wizarding War, here the new 1st years glanced at their peers nervously unsure of the prejudices they would face.
Harry Potter surveyed the typically boisterous hall, ignoring the inquisitive stares of his peers who were trying to catch a glimpse of their saviour, the feeling of guilt pooling in his stomach as he took note of the many sombre expressions and the slightly mournful atmosphere of those whose last memories of the great hall was mostly death and suffering. He watched as Dennis Creevey sat isolated from the others in his house, staring down at what Harry recognised as his older brother, Colin's camera. Once again an intense feeling of shame washed over him, as he found himself wishing that he could have saved everyone despite understanding that this was impossible. Hermione Granger eyed Harry concerned as he glared blindly into the distance, his green eyes glazed over with self-hatred. Both she and Ron had realised quite quickly after the war that Harry's mind was fighting a war of its own, his happiness and joy constantly being beaten down by harsh waves of depression which had built up over the years. She turned to her boyfriend to see if he had noticed their best friend's mood, only to cringe as she watched him stuff a full Yorkshire pudding in his mouth, chewing loudly with his mouth open.
"Harry? You haven't touched your food, are you alright?" Hermione questions, quickly turning her attention from her red-headed pig and bringing her green-eyed friend out of his self-loathing fuelled thoughts.
"Hmm, I'm fine Mione, just not that hungry." He grumbles looking down at his plate, whilst stabbing at his sausages and mash. The bushy-haired girl doesn't reply instead becoming more worried as she scans his blank face, sensing her unwavering gaze Harry eventually looks up and reaches out to squeeze her hand. "Seriously Hermione I'm perfectly fine, just - readjusting I guess."
Knowing that that's all she'll get out of him right now, Hermione nods her head, clutching back at Harry's hand tightly. "Alright I'll let you off, but Ron and I are always here for you, whenever you need us." All she received was a hand squeeze before she was released, her hand falling empty onto the wooden table with a soft thump.
"Umm, Harry? If you're not gonna eat that, can I have it?" Ron questioned through a mouthful of his own dinner, tearing a laugh from Harry's throat as Hermione smacked the back of his head with a mutter of '𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳s', his moment of joy bringing smiles to the faces of those surrounding the trio.
~
Whilst sitting in the new 8th-year common room, Harry thought back to the lack of Slytherins that had returned to Hogwarts for the new year and found himself wondering where his silver-eyed enemy was. At the beginning of the summer, Harry had spoken on behalf of Malfoy and his mother at their trial, due to the two of them saving his life on two separate occasions when they could have just as easily saved themselves by handing him over to Voldemort, this meant that neither would serve a life sentence in Azkaban but instead, they were both stripped of their wands and made to live in the muggle world as punishment. Rumours had spread that the young Malfoy had also been invited back by McGonagall to retake his final year, but Harry had failed to spot the platinum blonde during the feast.
Glancing around the common room Harry made eye contact with Blaise Zabini, one of the few returning Slytherins, who tilted his head slightly to one side in confusion before nodding slightly in his direction and turning back to the ragged book in his lap. Zabini had been quickly released from aurors grasp after the war when it was discovered that neither he nor his mother had been branded with the dark mark. Turning away from his confused classmate with a sigh, Harry collapsed back into the plush couch cushions, staring up at the ceiling, remembering the promise he had made to himself (Hermione), already regretting signing himself up for a year of studying for his NEWTs. Just the thought of schoolwork made his brain hurt. He had been offered positions in the Ministry without having to take his exams, which he ultimately turned down in favour of returning to Hogwarts for his 8th year and the opportunity to be a normal student.
Running a hand down his face and letting out another sigh, the overwhelmed saviour decided to turn in for the night, throwing a quick goodnight over his shoulder in the direction of his two cuddling friends Harry sped towards his new bedroom. Unlike the other dormitories, 8th years had their own rooms along with a private bathroom each, allowing them to have the privacy they had craved for over since 1st year, however as Harry stood in the doorway of his new Gryffindor themed dorm he found himself wishing he still had to share his room, the fear of being washing over his body in waves. Shaking himself quickly out of his reverie, he stripped out of his robes and climbed into bed rolling around before settling and falling asleep after the long day of travel.
The sleep was anything but peaceful however when an hour later he was propelled awake, the image of his parents being ruthlessly murdered reaching out and crying out for him to help them, whilst he watched unable to move as Nagini slithered up behind them and launched. A stray tear slipped from his eye but was wiped away before it could make its treacherous journey down his scarred face. The burgundy duvet was in a crumpled heap on the floor, obviously losing its fight to Harry's squirming figure, along with the thin blanket that had also been provided. In an attempt to clear his head, Harry leapt out of bed shoved his glasses onto his face and paced over to the large bay window that overlooked the black lake and the forbidden forest, which he unlatched to let in the bite of cold air, cooling his burning skin.
Due to the colouring of the lake, the moon and its surrounding stars reflected off of the calm water, making it look as if a piece of the universe had fallen to Earth and landed right outside his window. As a boy Harry had believed that the stars were angels looking down on their loved ones, keeping them safe and protecting them from harm. If his aunt or uncle forgot to lock his cupboard when he was younger, he'd wait for the Dursleys to fall asleep before scrambling into the living room to talk to the stars, imagining his parents were listening and watching over him, constantly wondering why they weren't protecting him like the guardian angels he had read about. Now though Harry only saw the stars as what they were, balls of burning gases that eventually combusted and ceased to exist.
As he scanned over the rippling water a flash of silver caught his eye, squinting, Harry leaned closer to the window now noticing a figure sitting beneath a large tree situated near the bank of the great lake, whose blonde hair practically glowed in the moonlight.
𝘚𝘰 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦, Harry pondered, 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘰 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘏𝘰𝘨𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴.
~
Hermione Granger was known as the brightest witch of her age and so it didn't take her long to realise that being back at Hogwarts was tearing Harry down. They had been back at school for around three weeks now and in that amount of time he had become almost a shell of himself, dark circles had formed around his normally bright eyes and his skin had lost its natural bronze glow. The trio had known that returning to Hogwarts would be triggering, especially for Harry who had yet to experience a school year without a threat to his life and judging by his physical state it hadn't taken long for the mental torment to begin. During the summer he insisted on staying at 12 Grimmauld Place alone and Hermione, along with the Weasleys, had honestly believed that he had been getting better, but now she admits she was oblivious to his pain. Hermione couldn't actually remember the last time she had seen Harry eat a full meal and it was quite obvious that he hadn't been getting much sleep, that is if he slept at all.
Recently Harry had begun to express an interest in Astronomy, questioning Hermione on her knowledge of the universe and all that it contains. He even started skipping meals to sit in the library and expand his own knowledge of the great beyond. She didn't understand where his sudden obsession had come from, but she wasn't about to question him when it was the only subject that put the twinkle back in his eyes. Ron, on the other hand, had felt slightly betrayed as he believed he and Harry had a silent agreement to never read for fun.
Unknown to Hermione, Harry sometimes would sneak into Ron's room during the night and the two would lay together, side by side on his bed, talking for hours about any topic that came to mind until his friend passed out due to his exhaustion. The worried redhead would then stay awake for most of the night to keep him safe, even though there were no more physical threats he still felt the need to look out for his brother. This had been a re-occurrence since Harry's first encounter with Voldemort in the form of Professor Quirrell, Harry had cried himself to sleep as Ron held him tight, wondering who decided to put an adults fight on a child's shoulders and vowed to himself that he would try to protect him in any way he could. It had been their secret for the last seven years and Ron would be there for Harry as his best friend for as long as he'd allow it.
Harry had never been one to speak out about how he was feeling, but on his good days his eyes would shine just that little bit brighter and his smiles would be more genuine than forced. He'd ask for Hermione's opinions on different astronomers' philosophies and sit listening to her explain the differences between types of stars, completely intrigued. On these days he would also play wizarding chess with Ron, losing repeatedly, whilst the two gossiped about the goings-on of students around them. But on the bad days, Harry would lock himself away in his room for hours, even days, reading and staring wistfully out of his window.
Some nights he would watch a certain platinum blonde rest beside the black lake, under the same tree Harry had spotted him under that first night, occasionally skimming pebbles across the surface of the water distorting the picturesque scene of the moon and stars. These were the nights when Harry would end up falling asleep on his windowsill, feeling oddly at peace with the world.
Although Harry had yet to bump into Malfoy, who seemed to only appear during lessons, he felt he couldn't get away from him. As the weeks passed Malfoy seemed to spend more evenings out on the bank of the lake, distracting Harry from his astronomy books and browsing of the stars. He was even appearing in his bloody dreams, well his eyes were. Not that Harry would ever admit whose eyes they were. But it had reached a point where Harry had begun to anticipate seeing the blonde nightly, rushing off to bed early, even though he knew Malfoy wouldn't be there for a few more hours, to perch on his windowsill wrapped up in his duvet with his chosen copy of the week, 'Epitome of Copernican Astronomy' written by Johannes Kepler, a muggle from the 17th century, until his supposed enemy appeared and his focus was successfully stolen by the boy.
Tonight, was one of those nights. Harry had wished his two friends a good night at around half past eight, patting Ron on the back and kissing Mione's forehead, tripping over his own feet in his haste to get to his room. Once settled in his spot on the cold stone, head resting against the smooth glass, his heart finally slowed to a healthier pace and his stiff stature seemed to melt away, leaving only the rush of anticipation in his veins. As predicted Malfoy didn't show up for another three hours, Harry had just reached the second to last chapter of the book before the shine of moonlight bouncing off an almost silver surface caught his eye, robbing his book of his attention and drawing his gaze outside to the area beside the great lake once again.
However, this night was different because when Harry's green eyes finally focused on the figure sitting beneath that familiar tree, he realised that Malfoy was staring right back.
Heart pounding Harry threw himself off of the window sill onto the hard floor, barely wincing as his knees were smashed harshly against the cold stone, breathing choppily as he tried to calm his sudden nerves. He'd been caught. Although, surely he was high up enough that Malfoy couldn't really see him, this relaxed Harry slightly. Yeah, there was no way Malfoy knew someone was watching him, never mind it being Harry. Despite his mental reassurances Harry decided to call it a night, rewrapping himself in his duvet and crawling into his bed.
~
Draco Malfoy had never expected to survive the war, never mind to go on and escape the clutches of Azkaban, where he was sure they had a cell reserved just for him. But Harry Potter had not been prepared to let him rot, speaking up for both him and his mother at their joint family trial emphasising how their actions in the war had saved his life and, in return saved theirs. There wasn't much even Potter could say to save Lucius Malfoy from his inevitable death sentence for his crimes against both the muggle and wizarding worlds, but his father hadn't really been alive for a long time. Not since his first stay in Azkaban, he was now merely a shell of the man who had once taught Draco to fly on his first broom and cast his first dark spell. The conclusion of the trial led to the exile of Draco and his mother to the muggle world, stripped of their wands and familial assets. A new start. As the court emptied Potter approached with a tentative smile, wrapping Narcissa in a quick hug with a few hushed words then turning to shake the dazed Malfoy heir's hand, nodding once before joining the rush of the other leaving spectators. That night the remainder of the Malfoy family disappeared to a small rural muggle village on the South coast, where they were able to rent a small bungalow, with the aid of an anonymous donation and quickly adapted to muggle society, taking advantage of their freedom.
One morning in late July as the sun had just begun to rise, Draco's overwhelming feelings of guilt began to suffocate him, pushing him to take his punishment into his own hands after spending time with sweet, caring, 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 muggles in the village, believing he deserved much worse. In an attempt to separate himself from his past the young Malfoy set about carving the dark mark out of his forearm in an effort to truly free himself of his sins. His mother was the one to find him. She had just returned from the local market with ingredients for a full English, to discover her only son surrounded by a pool of his own blood echoing a similar scene from his 6th year, but this time there was no Snape or magic that could help him. He was rushed to a muggle hospital in one of those metal machines with bright flashing lights and deafening sirens, his mother shakily gripping his right arm whilst trying to distract him with tales from his childhood. "Do you remember Dragon? You made me so proud," Her voice began to shake as she held him tighter, but Draco could only close his eyes, tired. Oh, he was so tired. "I love you so much, my precious boy." He doesn't remember much but when he wakes wrapped in scratchy sheets on a squeaky bed, feeling out of sorts but not understanding why. His mother is still there, still holding his right hand, shushing him as he tries to speak. Draco attempts to reach out to comfort her with his free hand but panics when he can't move or feel anything, looking down to discover that his lower arm from the elbow to his fingertips is gone. It is then that his mother explains that the doctors had decided to amputate the lower half of his left arm due to the damage he had caused in an attempt to save his life. For the first time since his fight with Potter in the sixth-floor boys' bathroom, he cried. Draco had achieved his goal, he was free of his dark mark and what it entailed, but at what cost he didn't know. Draco spends the rest of his summer at a muggle rehabilitation facility, where he is taught how to live with a prosthetic arm and the occasional phantom pains where his dark mark once marred his pale skin. When he returns home his mother greets him with a letter on his arrival, inviting him to return to Hogwarts to complete his final year of schooling as an 8th-year student.
At first he openly refuses to respond or return, that is until he wakes one morning to find that his mother had hidden his newly acquired prosthetic limb and refused to return it until he sent McGonagall his acceptance letter.
He returned to Hogwarts a week later.
~
Draco had arrived early for the Hogwarts Express to reassure himself that his invitation back hadn't been some elaborate prank, where he would be blocked from the magical entrance of Platform 9 3/4. It wasn't. He was also eager to be one of the first on the train to lock himself in a compartment at the very back of the train, although without magic the muggle lock on the door was quick to give in when Blaise Zabini simply tapped his wand on the door and joined the young Malfoy. He made no comment about Draco's plastic-looking limb, didn't really acknowledge it at all, minus a raise of his right eyebrow. The two spent the entire journey in silence until they pulled into Hogsmeade station where Blaise cast a glamour on his prosthetic making its appearance more realistic to those that didn't look too closely with a shrug and then proceeded to gather his things, before leaving the compartment with a quick, "See you at dinner."
Draco did not go to dinner that evening or for many evenings after that, choosing to stay in his dorm room where a house elf named Minty would bring him his meals and stay for the occasional game of wizard chess until his need to escape the four walls of his dorm became overwhelming. One evening, after dealing with Draco's constant fidgeting, Minty pointed out a tree beside the black lake. "A place for thinking." The small elf had hummed. From then on when he became particularly irritable in his own company, Draco would sneak away and perch himself beneath Minty's thinking tree and watch the giant squid swim laps from afar. Appreciating the scenery and calming atmosphere away from the judgemental eyes of his classmates. Just him and the stars for company. That is until one evening when he spots a figure silhouetted by candlelight in a window across from his favourite spot before it quickly disappears. Shaking his head with a laugh at the abrupt exit, the blond considers whether the figure had been watching him or also seeking company in the night sky. It is then that the once Malfoy heir decides to head to bed, brushing himself off and proceeding back to the castle under the watchful eye of the moon.
~
"Harry! Harry! Harry!"
The young Gryffindor is met by cheers of his name as he circles the quidditch pitch searching for the snitch which hasn't shown itself in around an hour. It's the highly anticipated Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match and the atmosphere of the crowd is staggering, but Harry's heart isn't really in it. It hasn't been since he entered the pitch to the sight of red, gold, green and silver banners and realised his opposing seeker isn't the usual snarky blond but a 6th-year brunette 𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦, who's flying so close to Harry he's almost up his arse. The stand-in for Slytherin seeker is Denver Prott who Harry has just mentally promoted to No.1 Pratt. He's not even looking for the snitch, he's just following Harry like a lost crup nattering his bloody ear off, practically sharing Harry's broom.
God he misses Malfoy. Wait -
"AND HARRY SLAMS ON THE BREAKS! - HAS HE FINALLY SPOTTED THE SNITCH?"
Harry has not spotted the snitch, but the loud echo of Dean Thomas' announcement snaps Harry out of his strange thought process, just as he spots a flash of silver-blond hair half hiding behind the Hufflepuff stands. The sight sparks a weird feeling in his chest, possibly because he now has a chance to show off his skills to someone he considers a real opponent and possibly not (but Harry refuses to consider anything other than his competitive feelings). And luck must be on his side because hovering slightly to Malfoy's left is the snitch.
Harry sets off in a sharp dive, leaving Pratt mid-sentence hovering stupidly in the spot Harry had previously pulled himself to a stop at and before he can even process the disappearance of his opponent Harry has already caught the snitch, officially winning the match for Gryffindor and is doing a victory lap of the pitch. Once again Harry's eyes search for the blond, only to catch sight of him as he retreats from his hiding place and begins his trek back to the castle. Then Ron suddenly reaches up and pulls Harry off his broom and into a celebratory hug and Malfoy is pushed to the back of his mind (not really).