Harry was standing on the bridge at Hogwarts. The same one that had been blown up when Neville taunted the Snatchers, killing the lot of them. The same one that Neville and Seamus had planted fireworks on, so that when they were activated with magic, it would explode.
Dressed in black suit pants with a belt and black shoes. His shirt was a crisp white, with the collar open down to his nipples, and his sleeves were rolled up to just under his elbows.
He was leaning on his forearms and just looking out towards the Forbidden Forest. So many things going through his mind, and how it had come to be that he was back here. His long dark hair blowing back from his face, highlighting the scar on his forehead. Green eyes scrunched up because of the sunlight, showing off the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. Deep in thought.
What had happened in the aftermath of the war, how they had all changed. He supposed it was their right to not return as the same people who had left the battlefield, but he wasn't holding on to any of that. At first he had been concerned about coming back to school, and all unwanted attention his presence would garner, but that had been halted immediately.
Their new Headmistress, Minerva Mcgonagall, took no crap from anyone. At the welcome back feast, she had stated that even though there were those who had questions, now was not the time to ask them. And if you really needed to know, give some space, show some respect, and in time the heroes of the war will be ready to tell their stories.
Harry's heart warmed when he thought of her. She was strict, but she was fair. The only Head of House that would deduct points from her own students. Whether it was because they were late for class, or a serious mischief, she would hand down her punishment. She had been, and was still a very welcome presence in Harry's life.
Dumbledore had favored the Gryffindors. Because he had been one himself, but he certainly never been a leader. Taking the cup away from Slytherin in first year just because Harry and his friends had decided to face danger head on - exactly the way that Dumbledore had planned it. There was no coming back from that, and while Harry (at the time) thought it was just, he had time to think on it.
It must have been crushing to the Slytherin house to have the cup within their grasp and then taken away because Dumbledore deemed it so. He wondered how different his life would have been, how many turns his path would have taken, if he had listened to the Sorting Hat and decided to go to the green house.
The house of snakes, he had been told.
There's not a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin.
Thoughts of Snape entered his mind. His very first encounter with the man asking him if he knew the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane. Only to be told a while later, that there is no difference. He would have known that if he had prior knowledge of the magical realm while living with the Dursleys.
In fact he would have known a hell of a lot more about everything.
"Potter", said a voice behind him.
Harry turned his head and saw Malfoy standing on the bridge.
"Malfoy", he said back curtly, nodded his head, and faced the forest again.
"May we talk?", asked the blond in a soft voice.
Harry looked at him again. "Sure", he said with a sigh. "What do you wanna talk about?".
Malfoy took a tentative step towards his target, wringed his hands together in nervousness, and took a deep breath.
"I saw you leave the hall".
"I wasn't hungry".
"Yeah. I got that".
"Came here to think", said Harry after a while.
