Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, or any other of the HP characters and universe. I wish I did, but I don't. They belong to the talented J.K. Rowling and no copyright infringement is intended with this work. I am only borrowing the characters for my own pleasure.

The art on the banner of this fic is by e-m-i on deviantart. No harm is intended toward the artist and I'm not claiming it as my own. Visit her deviantart page for more beautiful art.

Warnings: None that I can think of except for Fluff

Pairings: Harry/Draco preslash, mentions of Narcissa/Lucius

Word count: 2K + (one-shot and complete)

Author's note: This short fic was written for H/D seasons and also as my own version of the epilogue to Deathly Hallows. I hated the original epilogue and found it completely unnecessary. JK left too much unresolved tension with Harry and the Malfoys. Obviously, things had to change after Harry saved Malfoy's life and Narcissa saved his. Here's what I see happening after the last chapter. It takes place several months after the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry finally decides that he has held onto Malfoy's wand for long enough and should return it. It completely disregards the epilogue from hell.

Enjoy!


An Unexpected Encounter


: : :

Harry strolled up to the formidable gate that enclosed Malfoy Manor and absently fingered the now familiar hawthorn wand in his pocket. He was surprised to see that the gate had been left slightly ajar and that all locking charms and intruder hexes had been removed. After their trial, Harry heard that the Malfoys had been allowed to stay out of Azkaban, but they had all been placed under strict observation and had to generously compensate the ministry for all their war damages. He had originally scoffed at that idea.

War damages...that was one way of putting it.

Still, they were also stripped of all their servants and would be subjected to unannounced visits by ministry officials.

That's probably why they left their gate unlocked.

Harry knew that Malfoys were never careless.

Once Harry reached the end of the meandering path, Harry's stomach started twisting in knots. This wasn't the first time he had visited Malfoy Manor, and unfortunately for him, none of his memories were pleasant. Yet, he had remembered the manor being more ominous, deadly even; now, it just appeared desolate and somewhat worn.

Probably like the actual Malfoys.

Harry took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He was surprised when moments later Narcissa Malfoy answered.

Who would've thought that Malfoys answered their own doors?

He supposed they didn't have much choice now. Secretly, he was ecstatic.

"Oh, Mr Potter, what a nice surprise," Narcissa said. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?" Her voice was cool but still polite.

"Er—Mrs Malfoy, I was hoping I could have a quick word with Mal- I mean Draco," Harry responded.

Narcissa looked him over suspiciously; he could tell that she was trying to gauge the purity of his intentions. She was a Slytheirn mother after all. A few moments later, she seemed satisfied and smiled warmly as she ushered him inside.

"Of course, Mr Potter, all of Draco's...er...schoolmates are always welcome. Let me go find him and please let me know if I can get you anything."

This time her voice sweeter and more melodious. She then offered him another smile; a stunning, captivating smile that made him wonder how he had ever doubted Narcissa's beauty in the past. Her smile was mesmerising, and he could understand why Lucius had wanted her. During her Hogwarts years, every girl must have been jealous of her and Lucius probably fell in love with her right on the spot.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off of her, watching her toss her long blonde hair gracefully, as she disappeared up a long, marble staircase. Even if the Malfoys had fallen from high society—they or at least Narcissa—still exuded class.

: : :

A few moments later, Harry watched Malfoy saunter down the stairs. Unlike Narcissa, his long blond hair was covering his face and messily hanging in all directions. Surprisingly, he didn't possess any of Narcissa's grace as he stumbled down the stairs. His head was hung down and his expression hidden; he never once glanced up at Harry, but most shocking of all was that Malfoy was wearing plain black robes, and they didn't appear to be properly pressed.

It was very unlike Malfoy.

Harry must have caught him at a bad time. He smirked at the thought of catching Malfoy off guard and started fingering the wand in his pocket again.

Once they finally locked eyes, Harry noticed just how frazzled Malfoy's appearance actually was. Malfoy had always been thin; he had a slight seeker's build, much like Harry, but right now, he appeared to be even thinner than he was during the war. If that was even possible. His pale colouring had an unhealthy grey tinge, and for once in his life, Harry felt a twinge of regret, pity even, while regarding his former enemy. Malfoy must have noticed that Harry was ogling him, so he broke the uncomfortable silence.

"Is there something I can help you with Potter?" Malfoy asked coldly, his grey eyes hardening into familiar slits.

"Er...How have you been?" Harry answered awkwardly. He wasn't used to exchanging words with Malfoy that didn't involve insults or fists.

"How do you think I've been, Potter?" Malfoy scoffed. "Please spare me the pleasantries Potter, we aren't friends. What is that you want exactly?"

"Umm...I just wanted to return this," Harry said as he took Malfoy's wand out of his pocket.

Malfoy's steely, grey eyes widened and he backed away from Harry.

"I don't want that, Potter. It's yours now. You won it from me fair and square."

Harry took a step towards Malfoy and heaved the Hawthorn wand at him. "No, it's yours, Malfoy. I don't have any use for it. I mended mine."

Malfoy threw his arms in the air exasperatedly. Always the drama queen.

"I said, I don't want it-Potter! Get it through that thick skull of yours..."

Same old ungrateful prick.Harry could feel his blood start to boil and his fists start to twitch, much in the same way that he usually felt around Malfoy. Harry wasn't a violent person, not even an angry person, but Malfoy always seemed to bring out the fire in him. Before doing something he would regret, like punching Malfoy square in the jaw, he decided to walk away. He glared daggers at Malfoy and started heading for the door. But just as he was about to leave, cold hands grabbed him and shoved him against the stairs.

"Look, Potter, I know you think you are doing me a favour, but you're not. That wand represents...I used that wand for..." Malfoy stopped abruptly and looked away from Harry.

Harry was in shock. He was never usually able to get Malfoy to shut up without resorting to hexes or brute force. Could it be that Malfoy was actually sorry for everything he's done? No, it couldn't be. This is Malfoy we're talking about. Malfoys don't feel remorse. Do they?

"Whatever, Malfoy. Look, I don't want your wand, so I'm just going to leave it here and you can decide what you want to do with it."

Harry awkwardly placed Malfoy's wand on a nearby table; he had to catch it from falling off the edge of the table since his trembling fingers had betrayed him. God, why am I shaking? What the hell is wrong with me? It's just Malfoy. Get a grip.

Harry started to walk away before Malfoy could notice his trembling hands and mock him. He was surprised at how empty his pockets felt without Malfoy's wand. It's just a wand, he scolded. But in the last few months, he had grown rather fond of that Hawthorn wand. He felt connected to it, like it understood him. And as strange as this might sound, he felt as if the wand's energy liked him too; it was as if he could feel his magic and the wand's magic intertwining.

But that was just too strange. It's just a wand, Malfoy's wand. Not his. Even if Malfoy was a prick, he was doing the right thing by giving it back, but now, he needed to leave and then mourn the loss of the Hawthorn wand alone. Still, it was a pity he wasn't going to be able to thank Narcissa properly. She had been a gracious hostess, unlike her son, and didn't deserve Harry's rudeness.

"Listen Malfoy, I have to leave," he said, without properly meeting the other boy's eyes. "Tell your mother, I said thank you-for everything. She seems really nice Malfoy. You're lucky to have her."

Harry was halfway out the doorway when he felt a cold hand on his shoulder. His entire body was on fire and the coolness of the touch was almost soothing.

"Harry wait, please—" Malfoy cried, his grey eyes shining with an honesty and earnestness that Harry had never seen before. At least, Malfoy had never looked at him that way before.

: : :

Harry froze on the spot, completely stunned that Malfoy had just called him Harry and said please. He's probably never said please his whole life. Harry slowly turned around to face the blond boy.

But before Harry could respond, Malfoy threw his arms desperately around Harry's neck crushing him and whispered, "Thank you, Harry, for everything. "

Harry could feel his cheeks turn pink as the taller boy released him. Harry had embraced other boys before, various times even, but somehow this one felt different. His neck and shoulders were tingling from where Malfoy had touched him and a pleasant coolness was spreading from his head to his toes. It felt marvellous and bewitching, but oh so completely wrong. After all, Malfoy was a bloke, and he's Malfoy for Merlin's sake.

"Er—don't worry about it—Mal-I mean, Draco. You would've done the same for me," he said, trying his best to conceal his blush and shock at his former enemy's gratitude.

"And—you didn't give me away either."

Malfoy slowly looked him over, much in the same manner that Narcissa had done earlier. It seemed as if Malfoy was also trying to appraise Harry's motivations. He must've been pleased with what he found because Malfoy then squeezed Harry's shoulder in response. Again the tingling sensation seemed to take over.

"Perhaps, but seriously Potter, if you ever need anything. Anything at all—"

"I know," Harry responded weakly. He was surprised at how easily he was conversing with Malfoy now, and most of all, that he was actually enjoying being in the other boy's presence.

"Actually," Harry continued, "there might be something I want..."

"What?" Malfoy asked. His voice was so much softer than the tone he had been previously using; in fact, it was probably the softest that Harry had ever heard his voice. It sounded melodious and sultry, just like Narcissa. For some reason he couldn't explain, he wanted to hear it again. So-he decided to call upon that Gryffindor courage again. Hopefully, he still had a little bit left. Here goes nothing.

"Well-perhaps you can meet me for a drink some time..."

Malfoy arched his eyebrows at Harry and smirked. For the first time though, Malfoy's usual smirk had no malicious intent behind it. Perhaps it was even a bit playful.

"On me of course." Harry smirked back, desperately hoping that the blond wouldn't hex him. Oh, Fuck. Did I just ask Malfoy out on a date?

"Obviously, Potter. Okay then, a drink on you. I look forward to it," Malfoy responded coyly and flashed Harry a brilliant smile. It was that same dazzling smile that Narcissa had greeted him with earlier. Perhaps it was even more radiating.

It's breathtaking. No, he's breathtaking. How have I never noticed that Malfoy was beautiful before? Maybe because he's never smiled at me. Ever. Thank Merlin for that or I'd probably be a blabbering idiot. You're not supposed to drool over your worst enemy.

Then, Malfoy did something even more shocking than the quick embrace and mesmerising smile combined. He warily stuck a pale hand out in front of Harry, and held his breath; his grey eyes met Harry's in uncertainty. Harry could see that Malfoy feared he would be rejected again. Not in this lifetime.

Harry silently chuckled at the irony of the situation, at how much it differed from their first encounter so many years ago. This time, however, he shook Malfoy's hand firmly and even held it a little longer than necessary. He wanted to feel that tingling sensation again; no, he needed it. Besides, Harry knew that this moment was important to Malfoy, to both of them actually, even if it was seven years too late.

"I look forward to it too, Malfoy. And I'll see you around. "

Harry gave Malfoy a slight nod and finally walked away. He hoped that he could find his way out of Malfoy Manor without having to disturb anyone. He didn't want to see anyone right now, not even house-elves or Narcissa. He had survived his second journey to Malfoy Manor, and in fact, it had been rather pleasant. He had known that his encounter with Malfoy would be intense; his encounters with Malfoy were always intense.

It's just that—never in his wildest dream—had Harry expected this kind of intensity.

As he strolled down the manor's meandering path again, Harry felt his stomach twisting into familiar knots. But this time, it was in anticipation of his future meeting with a certain blond. He couldn't believe just how much he was looking forward to seeing Malfoy—no, not Malfoy—Draco again.

~Fin


A/N: Okay, so I hope that wasn't too bad. It was just a little fluffy scene that I would have loved to occur after the events of DH. Let me know what you think, even if you hated it. Either way, at least Harry got a date with Draco out of it. : )

Also, if you liked this, read my other actual D/H story that I'm working on Tabula Rasa. A couple of chapters are up right now, and I'll definitely be posting more chapters soon. I'm also looking for a new beta reader that doesn't mind reading slash. If you're interested, send me an email or pm.