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High-school rivalries now long in the past, the only time Harry Potter saw Draco Malfoy was once a year, seeing off their respective off-spring on the Hogwarts Express. This was now the third year Draco and his blonde waif (What is her name? Harry could never remember her name.) had come to bid goodbye to their only child, and Harry and Ginny herding their small tribe (which, when combined with Hermione and Ron’s slightly larger tribe took up most of the Gryffindor common room) had seen them on the platform. High-school rivalries perhaps not quite the word, he mused, after all it had been a war, but Draco was never really fighting it, so perhaps it was just petty high-school duels.

The brightly coloured steam engine pulled out once more (an empty house ‘til Christmas, a twinge of sadness there) and hands of varying sizes fluttered in the windows. And then the families (half-families now) gradually trickle out of the platform, leaving just the usual daily commuters. And they always hung back a little, let memories cloud around them just a little. And Harry’s eyes met Draco’s for a moment or two and they wondered what if? What if one had been brave enough break tradition, break prejudice and their own fears. But instead they broke eye contact, Harry turning to Ginny once more, and Draco to – what is her name?

And then they left.

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