#....i just realised that nearly all of them ( if luna is also one ) are pureblood wizards

[forgaeven1]

the 1997 d.a. co-leaders.

the slytherin's unholy trinity.

[thelibranarchives]

For @giucorreias Flufftober prompts. Day 1- Touch.

'Bellatrix Lestrange,' Harry Potter said, voice so toneless and flat that Draco Malfoy shuddered suddenly with the goosebumps that cropped up. He didn't dare lift his eyes from the ground, though. Not that he could, with the blue-black bruise over his left eye. The entirety of the nearly twenty foot great hall was silent, half of them ashamed at being admonished and the other half, listening with rapt attention to the saviour of the wizarding world.

'I'm pretty sure,' Potter went on, 'that with the exception of the first years, a majority of the rest have had first hand experiences with her.'

A few voices in the back made mumbling noises as though protesting. Potter looked sharply at them.

'Or wasn't that your excuse to start physically and verbally abusing the Slytherins?' Weasley snarled in their direction, hands on his hips.

More voices rose and Draco swept a quick look around the hall. The students at the four tables were now standing up and starting to talk over each other while those at the fifth table that housed the eighth years were fuming silently. Blaise, Pansy, Millie and Daphne were standing next to him, all of them holding hands like a group of five year olds about to cross a road.

Draco knew they had brought this upon themselves and the students were, at least slightly justified in their actions. Their attitude wasn't really shocking. It was Potter's stance that was surprising everyone. Just like it did four months ago when all three of the Golden Trio testified for Draco and his mother.

Potter had smiled at him after he had been acquitted, a smile Draco had trouble fathoming even months later. Draco had thought it felt like a truce that day. He didn't know how to define what was happening now.

'Since many of you seem to have trouble recalling Bellatrix even though we have on record that she visited our school on the weekends,' Potter said loudly, quieting the hall once again, 'how about someone who I know is still in your nightmares?'

Granger whipped her head around to Potter at that, eyes widening in realisation. Draco closed his eyes, grunting in pain and squeezing Blaise's fingers into paralysis.

'Fenrir Greyback!' Potter said and everyone flinched before they were aware of what they gave away.

'That was who Draco stood against and lied to. A dangerously powerful Legilimens and a frightening werewolf.'

'He bullied you. He bullied us. They all did!' A sixth year Hufflepuff screamed.

'Malfoy was the reason the Death Eaters could enter Hogwarts,' another chorused.

'And what makes you think he didn't suffer like you?' Granger snapped, turning back to them. 'Would a pensieve memory of Draco shrieking under a Cruciatus be enough or would you like to go back in time and watch it happen yourself?'

'Draco,' a soft, lilting voice called that Draco found himself unknowingly turning towards. 'I haven't ever thanked you for healing my injuries, have I?'

Luna Lovegood walked down the aisle between the tables to stand before him. 'Thank you,' she smiled, engulfing him in a hug.

Draco saw more than heard the gasps that followed. His grip on Blaise's hand loosened momentarily.

'If we stood beside each other, how many do you think will mistake us for siblings?' Lovegood pulled back and went on, either truly oblivious to the bulging eyes or deliberately choosing to ignore them.

'Quite a lot, I'd say,' Ginevra Weasley said, coming up behind her and wrapping a hand around her shoulders. She scrunched her face, looking from Lovegood to Draco and back again, nodding as if she found the similarities already.

'Are none of you hungry?' Longbottom asked from the eighth year table.

'We'll be right there, Neville,' Ginevra replied, steering Lovegood away. She stopped when she reached Daphne.

'Oh Daphne,' she said conversationally, 'did all the first years you helped escape make it?'

'They did,' Millie nodded. 'We uh, we diverted the Dea- the Dea- we diverted them elsewhere when they came for us.'

'That's what I heard,' Ginevra nodded back. 'Don't you like plum cake? That's our dessert today,' she continued, looping her other hand around Daphne's neck, signalling Millie and walking off.

'You heard her,' Weasley said, looking at Blaise and Pansy, 'the food's going to go cold.' He motioned them both to join him.

Blaise, Pansy and Draco exchanged looks and started to move when Potter grabbed Draco's wrist and held him back, his expression inscrutable. Potter stared at him for a long time before he tightened his hold and turned back to face the room.

'Voldemort,' he started, uncaring of the wince the name induced in the others, 'causelessly believed that purebloods and Slytherins were better than muggleborns and mobilised an army of like minded people to take over the world. If you were any better than him, you wouldn't judge someone on the basis of their blood or house affiliation.'

Draco idly thought Potter had grown into quite the person, drilling silence into others. A wandering part of his brain also wondered if defeating Voldemort gave one such powers.

'He was your worst enemy!' A boy from Ravenclaw shrieked.

'Voldemort was my worst enemy. Draco was only my opponent at school and we've made our peace with each other,' Potter snapped. 'If this is only about him, then why are the other younger year Slytherins also taking a trip to the Infirmary twice a day? Have they bullied you or insulted you? Did you know that none of the Slytherins here killed anyone?'

'They tortured us.' This time it was a Gryffindor. 'Last year. You don't know what it was like. You weren't here.'

Potter rolled his eyes. 'Yes, I was pole dancing in France.' 

Draco couldn't help the snort but covered it up with a cough just as Potter became serious again. 'You all were threatened to torture each other by the Carrows. Either point your fingers in the right direction or don't point at all. This alienation of Slytherins and blaming them for everything that happened is no different than Voldemort ostracising muggle borns. No one is asking you to befriend them but this kind of behaviour will not be tolerated further.'

Potter didn't wait for their response. He turned to Draco, took his chin in his hand and lifted his wand to Draco's swollen and bloody face. He locked eyes with Draco once before whispering, 'Episkey.'

Draco's injuries healed with a crack and snap as Potter slithered his arm around his shoulders and walked them to the eighth year table. He forced Draco down in between himself and Finnigan and piled his plate with food before pushing it towards him.

'Eat. You look like you are starving,' he said, pouring some soup into his own bowl.

'Thank you,' Draco whispered, shocked into gratitude and something that felt like affection.

Potter smiled wider at that and in another absolutely astonishing gesture, knocked their heads together. 'No problem, now eat.'

Down the table, Ginevra Weasley and Lovegood were in a conversation with Daphne and Millie. On his right, Blaise, Longbottom and Weasley were chatting about the new single from the Weird Sisters. Opposite him, Pansy and Granger were being painfully awkward until finally they both snickered when they reached for steak at the same time. Potter was complaining about his Transfiguration essay to Dean Thomas on his left and Headmistress McGonagall had moved to the podium and announced that she was scrapping the system of house tables from the great hall, informing everyone that they had to mingle or else.

Deputy Headmaster Flitwick had deducted fifty points each from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff and Hagrid and Firenze toasted to Potter. Draco was, however, deaf to it all. He was stuck in that timeless moment when Potter smiled at him.

He now knew how to define it. Change. That was what this was.

In the occasional bouts of lucidity he had the past year, when he was not obsessing about the result of the war, Draco had found himself obsessing about the aftermath. The changes that would be brought forth seemed to range from working for the Ministry brewing illegal potions and teaching Dark Arts at Hogwarts if Voldemort won to either grovelling in poverty, famished, desolate and lost or locked up in Azkaban for life if the Light side won. Therefore to Draco, this outcome of the war was unexpected to say the least.

The touch of change had always carried with it a sensation of dread in the past. But now it appeared to contain an inexplicable elation that whispered of hope. If the post war atmosphere included Lovegood, Granger, Longbottom and the Weasleys backing him and Potter leaning into Draco as he unconsciously ran his fingers through the mess at the nape of Potter's neck, then change definitely wasn't something to be feared.

Since he was completely lost in experiencing the new touch, only Blaise noticed that Draco's wrist was still in Potter's grip.

There will be more fluff in the coming days. This was onlymeant to lay the foundation for it.