After All This Time

11 Years Later...

You adjusted the bottom of your plum colored dress robes nervously as you stood at the entrance of the Great Hall.

11 years had passed since this entryway was reduced to ruble and dust. It's amazing what you can do with magic on your side.

Good on your word to yourself, you came back to Hogwarts as a Professor. Specifically, the Potions Professor. It seemed right, given everything. 

You finally moved into the enormous and empty hall. All the other Professors were already at the head table chatting amongst themselves. Besides yours, there was one other seat missing. The Defense Against the Dark Arts position. You didn't know who had filled it. You knew that Flitwick was still doing Charms, Sprout was replaced by Neville with Herbology, and McGonagall was still towering over her Transfiguration position. 

McGonagall also took over as Headmistress after Dumbledore's death.

You all but burst out into a jog when you saw Neville's beaming face looking down at you. He met you halfway and pulled you into a deep, warm hug.

"Told you I'd be here with you again," you said.

"Blimey, it's good to see you," laughed Neville. "Potions, eh?"

"It's the right thing to do. Make sure that others take Potions seriously and don't try to brew something complicated alone and botch it."

"Your parents would be proud," whispered Neville as he led you up to the table.

Hearing Neville talk about your parents caused a small pang in your chest for more reasons than one. Everything that happened, everything you did to them, and of course, Draco.

Fortunately, Dumbledore's words still rang through your head everyday. You had to forgive yourself, and eventually you had. Though, it was still never going to not hurt.

As you seated yourself next to Neville and Professor McGonagall, you busied yourself with idle chit chat. Other Professor's came around and gave you their congratulations on your first year, and you absorbed yourself in the chatter.

That was until the hall doors creaked open, and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor strolled in.

That damned golden, perfect, silky hair was unmistakable. After 11 years, there was Draco Malfoy strutting back into your life.

He kept his head down most of the way, his hands deep in his pocket, and his pace quick. About halfway down, he looked up and slowed considerably when he locked eyes with you. His head shot back down to the floor as he made his way up to his seat.

Neville could tell that you were upset, so he reached his hand out and squeezed yours with a knowing smile.

As students started to pour into the hall and take their seats, you got lost in the sea of noise. You desperately wanted to glance in Draco's direction, but you stopped yourself. Once all but the first years had arrived, McGonagall excused herself to go get them for the sorting. 

After the arduous wait for them to enter, you let go of the breath that you didn't know you were holding.

As the kids entered, one boy in particular waved sheepishly at you. You glanced over at Draco to see if he had noticed, and it appeared that he had. Draco's jaw was slack and agape, his eyes darting back and forth between you and the child.

He gave you a hard, steely look, and you nodded at him slightly. Draco breathed in deeply and sunk back into his chair a bit.

One by one, the students were sorted into their houses. When McGonagall called your son's name, he was sorted into Slytherin. You clapped a little extra hard and gave him two big thumbs up as he walked over to the Slytherin table.