Harry stood in the crowd and watched the Dementors move towards their Death Eater captives. The final battle – officially titled The Day You-Know-Who lost, as if Harry would ever call it that – had shown the true colours of many, and not all of them had been Slytherin.
Harry turned away when the moaning started, he was too far away to feel the effects but couldn't stand to watch the Dementors kiss some of his ex-classmates.
His eyes caught on blond hair. Malfoy.
Fudge had done it again, he scowled, the incompetent Minister had wiggled Malfoy out of the Kiss, out of life in Azkaban.
The only satisfaction he had, it seemed, was that Malfoy senior was dead and that their family name was disgraced.
Malfoy turned, saw Harry and smirked.
It wasn't enough.