Forgiven But Not Forgotten

Forgiven but not Forgotten

Damn blond hair again!

Why does he haunt me every where I go? It has now been five years since I last saw Draco Malfoy, but his image never left me. On our last day at Hogwarts he came up to me, leaned in, and whispered, 'We will meet again Potter, and then things will never be the same.' Then he left.

He just walked out of my life as fast as he had come in to it.

I have spent a lot of time thinking about what he had said and what he meant. I still cannot figure it out. I have now given up trying to decrypt the mystery of his words. Now he just haunts me. Every were I go I see blonde hair, and once or twice I believed I saw those amazing gray eyes. Each time I am wrong. It is never once been him.

I now am working for the Ministry of Magic. That's not a surprise to anyone. I am one of the few Aurors left in the wizarding world. Some had gotten killed in the last war with Voldemort. Trust me, this time it was the last war. I was there to watch him die. In fact I killed him myself. He thought he had been so smart when he got my blood in fourth year. It had given him the ability to touch me. It was the beginning of a flaw, the flaw that killed him. My blood had not only let him touch me but it had made him more like me. As disturbed as I was by this, it helped. In the end it was how I killed him. For in being more like me he could die. It is a weakness I have, being mortal, but in this case it was my strength.

I always wondered what Draco had done after school. I knew for a fact that his father was a Death Eater and had returned to Voldemort and had gone to Azkaba for it. What did that mean for Draco? Had he too become a death eater? Like father, like son? I could only wonder. Was that part of his message to me? That the next time we were to meet it would be in battle? That would have been different. I know in school we had always 'hated' each other, so to speak. In truth we never did much harm to the other. In the end it was just a lot of hot words tossed around by two little kids who knew nothing about the real world.

His last words to me had meant more then all of our seven years together. Now that Voldemort was gone, what had happened to him? If he had become a death eater, was he now dead like most the others. Most of them had killed them selves when then found out that their 'great lord' was truly dead this time. Had he done the same? If he was a death eater why had we not found him before? The Ministry had located almost every Death Eater in the country.

Had he left the country? If so did he go as a Death Eater to do Voldemorts bidding else were? Maybe he had left the country, but not as a Death Eater? What if he left to save him self from his father and his ilk?

Too many questions! I'm get so lost in my mind when it comes to Draco. His words repeat over again and again. 'We will meet again.' Could he be so certain? What if he was dead and I never got to find out what the change was? What if it was all for the better, and we could have the friendship he wanted back in our first year?

There goes another bit of silver blonde hair. I keep seeing him. Damn, there it is again! Across the way a man at a coffee shop is looking at me. He has hair just like Dracos. Is he really looking at me? It's hard to tell with the sunglasses on. As if he is reading my mind, he removes them. His eyes are closed. I don't know why I care. I know those eyes will be like all the others. They will not be gray.

He opens his eyes and looks at me. He is looking at me with . . . with gray eyes. I take a better look at the man. He reminds me of Draco so much. He is even wearing expensive street cloths. The kind of thing you see the price tag on and wonder who the hell buys this for that kind of money? Some one rich is the answer. Also some one who wants you to know they are rich, some one like a Malfoy.

But it can't be! It just can't be.

The man puts his glasses back on and gets up. I realize I've been staring. He must have gotten upset at me. I know he is not the enemy of my child hood but I watch him for a moment anyway. Thinking of the little blonde boy I met in Madam Malikin's shop so many years ago. What I wouldn't give to have gotten a better start at that point. I wish I could have known him. There was so much to know; at least I like to think that there was.

With my thoughts wandering I have lost sight of the man with the blonde hair. It is so much like Draco's.

I turn and start to head back up the street to my flat. It was where I was going, before I got lost in my memories, as I always do these days. I realize I need to get the milk home before it gets warm. Then again it's so chill out today I doubt it could get warm. I shrug off the cold as I walk home.

As I near the building to my flat I could swear I see that man from the coffee shop again. It can't be, but there he is. Standing right at the door I am headed to.

I try not to notice him. At least I don't stare like I did not five minutes ago. Why is he here? Did he follow me? He couldn't have if he beat me here. I wonder what in the bloody hell is going on.

As I go to open the door a hand reaches out to stop me. It's the blonde man. He has taken off his sunglasses. His eyes are gray. Every thing about him screams Draco to me, but I've been wrong before. I hate it when I find out the hard way I'm wrong. I don't want to do that today.

"Harry"

It is not a question. This man knows my name. He knows me. NO it can't be! Then again, Voldemort was only killed four months ago. Perhaps he has been hiding for years and now feels safe to come out. If it is Draco why would he come to me first? I know he has contacted no one else. I always keep an eye out for his name at work. It has not crossed anyone's desk in years.

"Harry"

He says it again. I still can't believe it. Perhaps he is just some guy who wants to meet me? Maybe I have forgotten a meeting with some one. It does happen. I can forget so much when I remember Draco. What with those gray eyes of his. How many people can have those eyes? I am once again lost in my mind and staring.

"Potter, come off it all ready. It's ME."

No denying that. No one can say my name like him. The man from the coffee shop is my old enemy returned. Why now? Why here?

"Well are you just going to stand here in the cold street staring at me, or are you going to invite me up?"

He is smiling. It's not a smile I've ever seen before. Unlike every smirk I've ever seen on him. This smile is a real one. Well that's not true. He smiled like that the first time I saw him. He is looking at me. He wants to come up to my flat. No malice, no hate, just an old school mate wanting to visit. I open the door and gesture for him to follow. I still wonder what he meant in his last words. Things will never be the same. I wonder if he remembers his words like I do. I hope he will explain his last words to me. I hope I am not being stupid and inviting my death in for a cup of tea.

There is only one way to find out.

"It's not much," I say to him "but you're welcome to come up."

I know something new is about to start. I don't know what it is but there is no going back now.