Is It Ever Too Late To Say Sorry {DRARRY}

Nightmare

[Draco]

"Where is he?" A familiar voice said nonchalantly.

The room stayed silent.

"We're is your father?" The voice echoed against the Malfoy manor's wall, sounding more threatening than ever.

One of the twelve silhouettes came closer, and removed the hood covering its face. Draco's blood froze when he saw a pair of green eyes approaching.

"Give me your father."

Draco woke up, his bedsheets full of sweat. He was still hunted by Potter's face and his emerald eyes, unable to slow down his heartbeat.

It's all in your head, Draco. The ministry of Magic already took Father to Azkaban. Potter is not an auror, and there's absolutely no reason for him to be coming to your house, he said to himself, desperately trying to calm down.

Draco went downstairs. A dim light was illuminating the living room. He was surprised that his mother wasn't asleep yet.

"Another one of your nightmares, Draco?"

Though Draco never told anyone about his nightmares, Narcissa had heard him screaming during his sleep.

"It's nothing, mother."

"But your arm is bleeding!"

Draco's gaze dropped to his arm and realized that he had scratched his Dark Mark during his sleep.

Without a word, Narcissa grabbed his arm and healed him with a spell. She hesitated, not sure if this was the right time, but finally said:
"There's something else I wanted to discuss with you. Hogwarts is accepting grade repetition. You failed last year."

Draco didn't need anyone to remind him that he failed his seventh year. His grades have been slipping after he got the Dark Mark.

"If this is what you're about to ask, then save you breath. I'm not going back."

"But Draco! Please! Your father and I already discussed this before his imprisonment, and we want you to get a job at the ministry. He made me swear I would do all that is in my power to help you. They're not going to hire you if you haven't even graduated form Hogwarts!"

   " I said no." Draco said firmly.

    There was no way he was going back to this hell of a school where every body hated him. Especially since his best mate Blaze Zabini graduated. Idiots like Crabbe and Goyle definitely didn't pass their seventh year, but unlike what most people thought, Draco didn't appreciate their company. As for Pansy Parkinson, Draco had purposely avoided her every since the end of the war.

   "Very well." Narcissa said coldly, before walking out of the room, heels clattering again the floor.

Draco went back to his room, unsatisfied by how poorly his mother understood him. He laid in his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. His mind wondered to what had happened the day of the Hogwarts battle, which happened already two months ago.

"Harry Potter is dead!"

Draco remembered exactly how he had felt when those words echoed against the castle wall, finding their way into every student's ears. How his blood had froze, and his heart had missed a beat.

Then, when his mother had called him, he had listened to her, and let Voldemort hug him. He had watched his father's satisfied expression as he joined the ranks of Death Eaters, like a trustworthy pure-blood, a true Malfoy.

Everything was blurred in his memory. He barely even remembered Neville and his speech. The world was spinning, and he had to grasped his mother's arm tightly to prevent himself from collapsing.
All he remembered was that Harry suddenly stood up, almost making half of the Death Eaters faint. He would have laughed at this hilarious situation, if only something more important hadn't took his attention.
Voldemort was raising his wand, ready to kill Harry once again.

And this was it, the first time he had ignored all the reasoning his brain offered, and instead followed his heart.

It all happened very fast. His wand left his hand in the most natural way, flying across the sky, then landed in Harry's. Perfect catch.

Then, two spells connected, red on one side and green on the other. At first, the boundary that separated the two spells was at the middle, but gradually, Harry's spell progressed towards Voldemort. Draco's heart was beating so hard against his chest cage as he watched the pair duel.

Finally, the red spell hit Voldemort right in the chest, and with that, he was torn into pieces, which instantly vanished into the air.

Draco had surprised himself with the hint of pride that emerged as he saw Harry defeat Voldemort; something especially odd since he was supposedly one of his loyal supporters.

After the chaos, Potter had walked up to Draco. Instead of hexing him, the chosen one had simply handed his wand back.
"You did the right thing." That's what he said, before smiling genuinely, and leaving to join his friends.

Time flies, but memories stay with us. Somehow, Draco was convinced this one would stay with him forever. This single decision he had made changed his future entirely.
Actually, it changed every witch and wizard's future.
It was also because of this if his father was now in Azkaban. When guilt tugged at his heart, Draco told himself again and again that his father was a horrible man, that he had deserved it, that it was his fault if he had had a terrible childhood... But no matter how many reasons he had to hate him, Draco couldn't.
After all, wasn't he the living proof that people could change?

Though Draco wasn't part of the crowd rushing to embrace Potter and go to the parties that celebrated this victory, he was glad that this had all ended. Finally, he was safe, and didn't need to worry about his family being tortured by You-Know-Who at any time, although it must be said that his father had the dementors for the torture part.

   The owls flew by his house, dropping letters and the newspaper.

The sun was beginning to rise, but even by this calm summer morning, their was still something, no, someone, hunting the back of Draco's mind. This time, it was not Voldemort, but his arch enemy, Harry Potter.