Work Text:
The world had changed.
Hadn't it?
Harry could feel gravel underneath his feet as he shifted, stones broken beneath his feet that had once been part of the walls or stone floors of Hogwarts and he was certain the world must have changed. It had shaken and been defended and it stood firm but a new beginning was in the air.
Hogwarts would never be the same, that was true. The school had quickly lost two headmasters and a battle had been fought. It would take time to rebuild and it would once again open as a splendid school and center for learning but it would not be the same Hogwarts he'd spent six years at.
So the world had changed, and it must have been for the better because Voldemort was gone, finally and irrevocably killed.
Hearing a sound behind him, he turned and thought upon seeing Draco's sneer that maybe some things didn't change at all. "Malfoy," he greeted as Draco came to a stop beside him in the empty courtyard.
"Potter," was returned and for a long moment there was only the sound of the wind between them. "So you think it's over then, don't you?"
Harry's eyes snapped over in surprise. "Isn't it? Voldemort is dead."
Draco's eyes slide over, though he barely moved his head and he looked like that was exactly the answer he had been expecting. "Of course," he demurred and looked back over the destruction before them again.
Shifting from foot to foot, Harry looked over. "You don't think it's over, do you?"
"Depends on what 'it' is that you're referring to," Draco said, finally tilting his head enough to consider the other teenager. "Do I think the Dark Lord is going to rise from his grave again in twenty years? No."
"Then what's not over?" Harry asked.
"It's pretty ironic," Draco said after a beat. "That after all the years the sorting hat tried to tell the houses to stand together, and all the grand speeches you've made, at the first sign of dissidence, you locked an entire house up."
"The Slytherins?" Harry scoffed. "They would have fought for the Dark Lord, they would have--" he broke off suddenly, remembering the stiff and terrified way Draco had held himself at Voldemort's embrace, and the way he'd broke and ran across the courtyard. Sometime in the battle, a stray slice of magic had caught him in the back and the scar would probably never go away.
Harry realized it was easier for him to think of Draco dead than scarred in battle, fighting for the same things he was.
"Some of them," Draco said quietly. "Some of them would have fought for the Dark Lord as that was what we were raised to do, unquestioning. But not all of us." He looked away again and Harry followed his gaze, wondering what he would see. "Judging and entire group of people and deciding they are all your enemies? It's a very Dark Lord sort of action to take."
Harry's jaw worked for a moment but no words came out. For a long moment Draco stared at him, obviously daring him to say anything before he turned and stalked away, leaving Harry alone with the wind again.
-0-
The next few days filled with speeches, while many of the students remained at Hogwarts, waiting to find out what would happen next. A government was put together, pardons were granted or not, and Harry listened, wedged between Ron and Hermione.
"Most of them are getting away with it," he said in shock and Hermione glanced at him in concern. "So many of the Death Eaters--"
"Many are still going to prison," she said, and Ron leaned around Harry to get a better look at her. "But we can't just punish all of them, there were too many and..." she paused a beat. "Many of them were in the government. It would take a lot of time to purge them and start over and rebuilding is more, well, pressing I suppose."
"Yeah?" Ron asked. "To who?"
She sighed, but the sound was soft. "To the government, I would think."
Crossing his arms, Harry leaned back and considered, still listening to the latest speech. He was only half paying attention to what Hermione and Ron were bickering about, sparing a thought for how glad he was that even kissing hadn't changed that facet of their relationship. Mostly he was thinking about what Draco had said, about judgment and how they might have fought. Three houses had stood together and instead of trying to accept the fourth they had rejected them outright.
That's probably not what the sorting hat had ever meant.
"--It happens all the time in Muggle governments," Hermione was saying.
"Yeah, but we're not a Muggle government," Ron said and she rolled her eyes at him, speaking around Harry still.
"No, but the same principles apply. We still need civil servants to keep the government running or there would be anarchy and a collapsed system."
Ron scowled. "But it's a government still full of Death Eaters!"
"Who else is there?" Hermione demanded and Ron fell silent, as unsure as the government officials were.
"At least Malfoy's papa is out for good," he grumbled and Harry sank deeper into his own thoughts.
-0-
In the great hall, Harry looked around during dinner. Many of the Slytherins had long since returned home, except for those few who sat huddled together, jeered at by the rest of the students. Some of them would have fought, he thought, watching them. In fact, some of those who had escaped had done exactly that, and for both sides.
Because their parents were Death Eaters, because they loved their friends. Harry looked for Draco again, finding his back straight and chin pointed back, daring anyone to approach him.
His eyes moved on and he found Luna watching him, her eyes bright like she knew exactly what he was thinking, what he was worried of. She simply smiled at him and inclined her head and he dropped his gaze, deciding he was done watching for the night.
Except that he kept glancing back at Draco, who eventually noticed and arched one brow at him, yet another dare to approach him.
After dinner, they found each other and Harry could not tell which had sought the other out. "Did you have something else to say, Potter?" Draco asked, black clothing making his pale skin and hair stand out.
"What are you thinking?" Harry asked and that did not seem to be the expected answer.
"About what?" Draco asked, tilting his head and Harry moved them further away from the others, toward a deserted nook by a tall window.
"About what you said earlier," Harry said.
Draco looked out the window a long moment before turning back to Harry. "I've been a part of this world much longer than you have," he said and held up a hand when Harry started to protest. "Unlike you, I've never had summers where I might go and see another side of the world. I've been trapped in the same place, watching the same people all my life. When Voldemort invaded our home it just made the entrapment more obvious. I've seen what these people consider an acceptable society and I don't just mean the Death Eaters."
"What's so bad about it then?" Harry asked.
"Everything," he answered. "The ruling class is so old and so small, eventually it will collapse under the weight of itself. Unlike the Muggles, who at least seem willing to take steps forward, no matter how well they work, our world doesn't even do that, we just add more bureaucracy."
"I can't believe you know anything about Muggles," Harry found himself say and Draco gave him a long look before shaking his head.
"You're the one who talked about unifying the houses instead of separating them," Draco said. "You didn't manage that very well when the time actually came for action."
Harry couldn't disagree so he simply nodded, looking out the window again. Even McGonagall, who he loved and respected so much had looked downright gleeful to send an entire house to the dungeons.
"I don't want to be under the control of someone who would ask a sixteen year old child to kill a man," Draco said quietly and Harry snapped his head back over.
"But they're not like Voldemort," he said, and Draco still winced at the sound of that name.
"The system that created him is still here," Draco said, tone mild but his eyes were blazing. "The same aristocratic families to reject the poorer orphans, the same power in the same hands and the same society that could make children so bitter. I, personally, don't want to see the next monster that comes out of it."
"I always took you for a coward, Malfoy," Harry said and Draco laughed.
"Oh, I am," he said and Harry thought about the scar again, from where he had glimpsed the wound being treated after the battle. "I still don't like fights, or wars, or," his nose twitched. "The sight of blood. But I would rather stand than pretend that everything’s changed. You killed a man, and the world is still the same.”
They looked at each other in silence for another long moment before Draco slide around him and started up the stairs. Staring after him, Harry realized that Draco had simply gotten to where he was going a lot faster.
Something was still wrong.
The battle was over, he though, looking out the window at the debris still all over Hogwarts.
But the war was just beginning.