The guilt remained, of course—it was one of those things he couldn’t simply scrub himself off and it clearly manifested in his nightmares. He saw the faces of the people that died, because of him or his silence, and he always woke up covered in sweat, barely able to remember that the war was already over. Yet, even back at Hogwarts, he was choking on his own regret. The castle wasn’t free of the war marks, after all, and Draco committed many sins here, and in his own private version of Purgatory his lungs constricted.