Work Text
Draco Malfoy ended up not returning to Hogwarts for the start of their Eighth Year. Naturally, the
Daily Prophet
had a field day with that bit of information, conjuring up dozens of different theories and speculations. Some claimed that Draco was the leader of a new group of dark wizards, while others speculated that Draco had run away to France with a secret lover.
While every single one of these rumors and gossip irked Harry a bit, those two particular ones pissed him off the most—to the point he wrote an enraged, scorched letter and sent it off to the Ministry of Magic for both instances. Within that same hour, the page of those Daily Prophet articles faded into a blank slate, replaced by a single paragraph:
“The Daily Prophet deeply regrets the publication of inaccurate information in this article. After thorough review, we have retracted the story and apologize for any confusion or harm caused.”
Despite Ron and Hermione’s pointed looks after both of these instances, Harry never addressed it. Instead, he let his emotions run all over the place—Catapulting between sorrow and rage, then simmering to nothingness.
Ad infinitum
.
He deeply missed those who could no longer be a part of his life: Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Dumbledore, Snape, his parents and everyone else. He was angry at the ones who were the core source of his pain: Tom Riddle, the cruel Death Eaters, the incompetent Ministry of Magic employees, the Dursleys…
At times he thought that he would do anything to bring Draco back to Hogwarts, only to bring back the sliver of normalcy back. Their childish boyhood rivalry.
“Aw, how delightful,” Hermione's cheery voice pulled Harry back to reality. They were currently at their last dinner of fall term, before the winter break began.
“Right? I’m visiting them in America for the winter holiday.” Harry looked over to see Hermione talking to one of the other Eighth Year Ravenclaw students they had gotten close to thanks to the Eighth Year commons they all shared. She was sitting across from the three of them, presenting a photograph to Hermione.
She accepted the photos with both hands and took a closer look. “They took this last week? I would have thought it snowed in New York.”
“Apparently it’s really rare and the weather has been mostly clear recently. It would be nice to enjoy some sunshine and blue skies for once.”
“Tell me about it,” Ron chimed in. Harry finally peeked over to see the photo. The people in the photo were waving at their audience, smiling. They were standing in front of a bustling muggle crowd of people crossing the intersection.
A shock of white hair appeared on the right side of the photo, briefly, before disappearing into the crowd.
“Wait!” Harry exclaimed and took the photo from Hermione, looking closer. The photo looped its motion after a moment and he saw the person reappear. He pulled out his wand, and put a stasis on the photo when it looped back for the second time.
“What’s wrong Harry?”
Harry forwent answering Hermione in favor of asking the Ravenclaw, “This is New York, you said? America?”
“Yea, that’s my uncle and his family. Is something the matter?”
Harry showed the photo to them, finger right underneath the head of a slender young man with pointy features. “Look, isn’t this Draco Malfoy?”
…
The final Death Eater trials had just ended. Harry had poured his heart and soul out to provide a moving witness statement in favor of Draco Malfoy and his family, and it paid off. Draco and his mother were found not guilty, while his father got off with only a year of house arrest. The Malfoy estate was very much intact as well, and Draco was still filthy rich.
He stuck around to wait for Draco to be processed by the Aurors for release, worried that someone would treat the Malfoy scion unkindly. Thankfully, that did not happen.
Draco seemed to be in a daze as he stepped out into central London, straight out into an alley that was connected to the Ministry of Magic.
Harry asked, “What do you plan to do now?” Dinner, hopefully. Neither of them had eaten anything since the morning. Well, specifically, Harry didn’t eat since the morning. He was unsure when Draco had last eaten. But regardless, the June sun was setting, which meant it had been at least half a day since they had eaten.
“My role is truly over now. I’m not sure what I should be doing anymore.”
Getting dinner together,
Harry thought. But before he could voice it, Draco spoke again.
“Tomorrow is your birthday.”
“Oh, yea it is.” Harry had forgotten due to everything going on. Maybe a pre-birthday dinner—
Draco’s cold right hand cupped his face, startling him.
“Happy 18th birthday, Harry,” Draco smiled, despite looking like he wanted to cry. “I’m so glad I finally got to say that to you.”
Harry was confused… but understood somewhat? Draco had never wished Harry a happy birthday, mainly because it was summer break whenever it was Harry’s birthday and also they had kind of hated each other until now. Maybe this meant they were friends now, Harry hoped. The other had even addressed Harry by his first name for the first time ever.
Withdrawing his hand, Draco whispered, “Goodbye, Harry.” And he Disapparated before Harry got to respond. What was that all about? Confused, bewildered, and feeling a little happy, Harry decided to walk back home to enjoy the post-war world.
“I could just ask in September,” Harry said to himself.
…
But Harry never got the chance to ask in September, for obvious reasons. Three months later, maybe he finally had the opportunity… if only his mates would stop yelling at him.
“This is absolutely bonkers—”
“You’re going to New York?”
“Why would you go after
Malfoy
?”
“I am floored that you got Kingsley to sign off on this.”
“How are we going to explain to mum why you aren’t coming over for Christmas?”
“What if it’s not even Malfoy but some weird doppelganger!”
“Guys. Please.” Harry finally said. “I’ll be fine.”
“Clearly, you’re not fine in the head!”
It went quiet.
Neville cleared his throat, “Sorry, that crossed a line.”
“It’s fine.” Harry continued to pack his trunk.
Pansy spoke up from the armchair in the corner of the commons lounge, “Potter, if you actually find him… then just know I will be eternally grateful to you.”
Harry looked at the witch and nodded because he didn’t want to make any promises.