A diplomat wasn't exactly what Draco had had in mind, but then the truth was he didn't have any better ideas either. He didn't know where his father fit anymore. In the castle, or in his life. It was harder when they were face to face like this. Old habits and all, but it took a lot of concentration for Draco not to just fall back into his role. Dutiful Pureblood son. It was like an old robe that once fit perfectly but not chafed and itched and pulled in funny places. He could still wear it, easily at first, but it would run thin very quickly.
"I'm not here to dictate anything to you. And believe it or not Harry didn't send me here with an agenda. Diplomatic relations might be a good use of your... skills." If he was closely supervised. The last thing they needed was him trying to gather power or something ridiculous like that. "But you'd have to accept that the world we're creating here is going to be different from the one we left behind. Do you think you can do that?"