Harry Potter is NOT dead! No, really, he can't be!

Chapter Seven: Harry Potter is Successful, once more

Potter stood victorious in the middle of the Great Hall as fierce as the new sun dazzling the air as a new day was born. I wanted to go to him even though I knew I wouldn't be allowed anywhere near him yet. The first to reach him were Weasley and Granger and he was wrapped in their arms. He suddenly looked exhausted and weak as their incomprehensible shouts deafened him. Then Longbottom and the Weaslette and Lovegood were there and I remembered Lovegood's words to trust Harry that everything would work out. And I thought that just perhaps I had totally underestimated Lovegood, more than anyone, particularly when I thought of the past year and how she and Longbottom and Weaslette had combated the Carrows and Severus at every turn. I thought that it was time to award them the respect they deserved. It was time to shrug off the Malfoy persona that had kept me alive for the past two years.

I watched Harry as he was surrounded by the rest of Weasleys and Hagrid, and McGonagall and Slughorn, Flitwick and Sprout, and then members of the Order and hundreds of students. They were all shouting and cheering and hands were seizing him, pulling him, trying to hug him, hundreds of them pressing in, all of them determined to touch the Boy Who Lived, the reason it was over at last...

And I wanted to take Harry away from all the noise and chaos and just hold his hand and whisper 'you did it!' and kiss his grazed knuckles but I knew I couldn't, not yet.

As the sun steadily rose, I found I was definitely on the outside of the mingled outpourings of jubilation and mourning, of grief and celebration.

The Dark Lord's body had been moved to the chamber off the Hall and McGonagall brought back the House tables around the edges of the Hall but nobody was sitting according to those divisions anymore. Mother was helping Madame Pomfrey with the injured, and father was helping Lee Jordan and the dubious-looking landlord from the Hogshead Inn hand out refreshments. It was a strange sight to see my father so humbled but satisfying too. I hoped he'd learnt something, I doubted it but, to a degree, I didn't care either. I had been planning for a long time to separate myself from him and his ideals. I imagined he might disown me anyway after he discovered his only son and heir was gay and dating Harry Potter.

I watched various Slytherins joining the efforts. Blaise and Pansy were organising food to take to the younger kids. Millicent and Daphne were helping Madame Pomfrey. I had no idea what had happened to Greg after we'd fled from the fire in the Room of Requirements but I wasn't sure I wanted to know either. He'd clearly laid out his cards, rising up from his position of subordinate in his and Vince's attempt to please Voldemort.

I sighed, a weight suddenly lifting from my shoulders as I realised I could say... even think... his name without fear. Harry was right; to fear the name is to create greater fear of the monster.

I watched McGonagall approach me and she, surprisingly, hugged me fiercely.

'Thank you, Draco,' she said.

'I...I...' I stuttered, surprised.

'I see and know far more than you imagine, Mr Malfoy,' she said.

I blanched.

'So a thank you is in order... maybe several,' she continued, holding my upper arms as she searched my face fondly. 'You have turned into a wonderful young man and have given far more than people know. But more than anything, you've given Harry a rare glimpse of happiness. And you've given him something to fight for beyond all of this, you've given him hope for the future too.'

I swallow deeply, suddenly very emotional, as if all the exhaustion and loneliness caused by the last year had caught up with me and I felt my legs nearly buckle for the second time that day.

She led me to one of the benches at the side but I refused to sit down.

'You are allowed to drop the pretences now,' she said.