Draco’s soft apology caught Harry off guard, the ease of his smile paling, realizing just how tremendously different Draco’s train of thought had been to Harry’s that it had brought them here. Draco’s small smile seemed a testament to the burden he still carried a decade after the war, and for the first time, Harry wanted to kiss him, if only to help carry that load.<br/>"I haven’t waited a decade for it," Harry confessed with a tentative smile, not knowing how else to respond. Despite what society had made him out to be, Harry wasn't able to provide absolution. No matter how much he cherished the thought and understood the necessity of the apology for Draco’s own sake, he didn’t want Draco to live with the impression that Harry had resented Draco throughout their adulthood.<br/>Harry wasn’t exactly sure when he had stopped, but he knew it wasn’t in the passing month. It felt likely to have happened over the course of the passing decade, when Draco had faded into little more than a childhood memory, but if Harry was honest with himself, he knew he hadn’t resented Draco when he carried his wand.<br/>Draco’s hand no longer in his, Harry instead pressed the sentiment to Draco’s forearm, a brief grip just above his wrist filled with comradery and gratitude.<br/>"I appreciate it," he reassured, not wanting to diminish the effort and vulnerability of Draco saying it. He didn't let his hand linger, allowing it to fall. "Thank you."