Being back at Hogwarts was not only comforting as well as weird, it was fucking brilliant, if the words of Ron Weasley were to be believed. All of the students that had fought in the war had been instructed to go back, whether they wanted to or not. And all of them did want to, even the snotty Slytherins. There were about thirty of them in total, so a new common room was created for them, and all the other years were told not to bother and pester them about anything. If they wanted to talk about the war, they would do so in their own time. When they were ready, not when someone constantly nagged them about it.
Dorms were shared. Truces were made, friendships were being built, and it was as if Hogwarts was coming back to life after the devastation of what Voldemort had committed. But it goes without saying, that no one can just forget what happened, and there were times that they did speak about it, but only to each other. A new understanding was reached, and most of the time it was pleasant. There were days when one or some of them had no desire to be seen, and so opted to stay in bed for the day. If a class was missed, someone else would bring notes to them.
Hermoine and Pansy had become quite close friends, where they would teach each other new things. Pansy would learn about all things muggle, while Hermoine would be shown a lovely collection of books on pure bloods. It was frightening at times. Neville and Theo were often seen going to the Herbology greenhouse together, because they both had a knack for taking care of plants.
Dean, Seamus and Gregory Goyle had asked Hagrid together if they could help in any way in looking after any magical creature that needed attending, as they were thinking of studying this area further when they left school.
Luna and Blaise were often seen walking the halls and eating together in the great hall, making everyone think that they were lovers. It was only when Luna clicked her tongue at the many stares, saying that they were just friends, and everyone should know by now that all the 8th year students were gay for Merlin's sake!
But the most peculiar, if not beautiful friendship that was formed that year, was that between Ron Weasley, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. They had all apologized, and Ron knew in his heart that Draco had been forced and tortured to do the things he had done. Even Harry loved spending time with the pointy Slytherin, and so, all the friendships grew that much more stronger.
Harry and Draco shared a room, and even when they had been told about it, they had both just accepted it with smiles. Packing out their trunks after the welcome feast, they made small talk, and when Harry removed his clothes to pack away in his cupboard, Draco stopped in his tracks. Harry was holding a pile of what looked to be hoodies, in different colors. When Draco stopped talking, he looked up at Draco and asked what was wrong.
Draco had said nothing, and carried on doing what he was doing. Not one to be found out, he hoped that Harry hadn't seen him eyeing the pile of clothes like a man possessed.
It was early in the second month back, when Harry went to his cupboard looking for his midnight blue hoodie to wear with his very tight fitting jeans. It was cold out, and he wanted to go flying. He had asked Draco and Ron to join him, and was rewarded with a resounding yes! from the ginger, but a no from the blond. Draco said he had homework to finish, he might join them later if he was done in time. Harry smiled at him, and said he was looking forward to it.
But the hoodie was nowhere to be found. He knew he had brought it with him, and he also knew that he hadn't worn it yet. So where the hell was it. He sighed in resignation, and decided he was taking too long, so grabbed the black one, and went outside to the Quidditch pitch.
Draco was a changed man. With his hair longer and a silver gleam to it, he usually wore it in a high ponytail to keep it out of his face. His eyes were beginning to shine again from being among friends, and yes there were days when he felt terrible at what he had done, but there were also days where he felt like he could be himself and not be sneered at. His body was a bit more lean with muscle, and his forearm had a patch of flowers that had been tattooed over the dark mark. In a word, he was stunning.
