After the war, they tried again for awhile. Draco Malfoy had dated Pansy Parkinson for essentially their entire time at Hogwarts. That had to count for something. They had been friends for even longer. The Parkinsons lived fairly close to the Malfoys and they were an old pure-blood family too. They were, as his parents used to put it, ‘respectable people.’ They weren’t old money like the Blacks or the Malfoys, but they were pure-bloods, and their lineage could be traced back centuries. Mrs Parkinson had been a Flint before she married, and they were also an old respectable family. It made sense that when the Malfoys had parties that the Parkinsons were invited, and Pansy came along to play with Draco.

At school, it had made sense for Draco to be with Pansy. She was beautiful, she adored him, she was fierce and she was the leader of the girls the way he was the leader of the boys in their year. They were a perfect pair, a power couple. They ruled the Slytherins of their year, and eventually, they would rule their House when they were seventh years. After graduation, they would rule from important roles in the Ministry... or something. Draco had never thought that far. He was the heir to the Malfoy fortune, and that was all that mattered. Being with Pansy just made sense.

After the war, nothing made sense. Everyone knew who they were and despised them. She was the one who suggested that someone grab the Saviour, Harry Potter and turn him over to the Dark Lord. He bore a Dark Mark. He had helped his aunt Bellatrix Lestrange torture prisoners in the Malfoy Manor. He was a branded Death Eater, even if his family had turned their backs on the Dark Lord in the end.

His whole world was upside down. Potter was a hero. The Dark Lord had been nothing like the saviour that his father had promised him so many times through all those years. He had watched people get tortured and killed. He had tortured innocent people.

Pansy had been relatively safe at Hogwarts. She was a pure-blood, she was a Slytherin and she had been all for the measures that the Carrows took against blood traitors like Lovegood, the Weasley girl and Longbottom. She had helped identify the traitors, and she had enjoyed learning the Dark Curses that Amycus Carrow had taught in ‘Defense Against’ the Dark Arts. She hadn’t fought in the Battle. She hadn’t seen the death and destruction like he had. Pansy had been summarily escorted away from the Battle.

They sat together in a field of flowers. They had spent a lot of time here as children, since it was a quick walk away from the Manor. Draco wondered what he could say to her. His head was in her lap, and she was stroking his hair. It was like was sixth year all over again. Sixth year was a lifetime ago. Back then, he had just taken his Dark Mark, he had just received his mission to kill Albus Dumbledore. Now, Dumbledore was dead, along with many of their friends and classmates. They were all gone and Potter and his friends had saved his life, twice. He owed them.

“How are your parents?� Pansy ventured, hand still absently stroking Draco’s head.

“They’re... holding up,� Draco responded. They were constantly being questioned by the Ministry, but Harry bloody Potter had testified for them. Mother had saved his life, by telling the Dark Lord that he was dead. Potter would keep them out of Azkaban but they would still have to pay for what they had done. There would be no clever escape from responsibility this time. They were in way too deep. Their home had served as the central meeting place for the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters. Lovegood, Ollivander and that goblin had been held downstairs in their secret basement. That professor of Muggle Studies, Burbage had been killed in their formal dining room. Granger had been tortured into unconsciousness in a room that he had played in as a child.

He blinked and tried to clear his mind.

“And yours?� he asked.

Pansy’s hand stilled. “Father’s been sacked,� she intoned dully. “The publishing company says that they don’t want anything to do with a pure-blood supremacist, particularly one whose daughter demanded that Harry Potter get turned over to the Dark Lord.�

In another life, Draco would have said something about how being independently wealthy was clearly the only way to live. Now he just nods. “I’m sorry,� he offered, wishing he could do better.

Pansy resumed stroking his hair. “It’s not your fault. We’ll get by. We always have. Mum’s still got her job. At least for now.�

There had been times when Draco didn’t even need to speak to Pansy to communicate with her. They had always known each other’s minds so well. There had been a time when all it took was the right gesture, the right look in the eyes for the other to understand. Now, there was a yawning chasm between them. Draco could hear the words she was saying, but he couldn’t make sense of them.

Absently, he plucked a few flowers. Life goes on, even when it seems like everything is over. The seasons change; the sun, the moon and the stars rise and set. The universe just keeps turning. It’s just us who have to adjust.

He blinked. Somehow without noticing and without managing to move, he had gathered a handful of flowers. Wordlessly, he handed them over to Pansy.

“Thank you,� she said quietly. “They’re lovely.�

“You’re welcome,� he murmured.

After another silent moment of his head being stroked, he wondered aloud, “Are they pansies?�

Draco heard her take a few breaths, slow and steady. “No. They’re not.�

“Oh.�

They stayed like that for awhile longer. Draco closed his eyes, and listened to the sound of Pansy’s breathing. She sounded so relaxed, like she could fall asleep, even with the weight of his upper body on her legs. The sun was warm on his skin, but inside, he felt like his bones were still coated in ice, like somewhere deep inside, he will never be warm again. “Rest,� Pansy whispered. “Sleep if you can.�

At that, he opened his eyes. “You don’t want to be here, when I’m asleep.� He reached up and brushed away a bit of her hair from her face. “It’s not pleasant.�

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I can take it.�

Draco sat up. “I take a Sleeping Draught every night, Pansy. If I don’t, then I can’t sleep at all. When I finally do sleep, I have nightmares. I remember...� he trailed off. He couldn’t put those things into words. He shook his head. “I toss and I turn, and in the end, I wake up screaming or crying.� He had never had to say these things so openly before. She would have just known his mind.

“Maybe being with me will help,� Pansy suggested. She leaned forward and held him against her.

Draco breathed deeply and inhaled her. Like her namesake, she had always smelled like flowers. Pansy’s touch and her scent had always relaxed him, but now it just felt like a memory from far away or from someone else’s life, something captured in a Pensieve.

He had loved staring in her brown eyes. They were fit for the Slytherin Queen, they were cold and hard to her enemies and only soft for him alone. He looked into her eyes now, and he wasn’t sure what he saw there.

“I don’t want to hurt you,� he mumbled. But I’m afraid I’ll have to, he finished silently.

She sighed and let go of him. “If you insist.�

Draco sat for a moment longer, wondering when and how things had changed so much between them.

“I should go,� he submitted. “I think people from the Ministry are coming again today.� It was only half a lie. He had never needed to lie to Pansy before.

She stirred, shifting her long brown hair from one side to the other. “Do you have to go?�

Draco hesitated, looking at her for a long moment. They had shared so many firsts. For so many years, he had known exactly what was going to happen. He would be the Slytherin King and Pansy would be his Queen. He could have even said that he loved her once, but that felt so far away now.

“Yes. I should,� he responded at last.

Pansy leaned forward, closing her eyes, and her lips brushed against his cheek. It was curiously chaste in a way that her kisses hadn’t been since they were thirteen years old. When she pulled away, her eyes were shining with unshed tears. “Good bye, Draco. Be well. Thank you for the flowers.�

She Apparated away, before he could say anything.

Maybe Pansy still understood him better than he thought.

Either way, Draco had to make sense of this new world after the war on his own.