Harry's feet carried him around the room, mostly staying to darker corners, winding in and out of hiding. Everybody was laughing, smiling, baring their teeth as they danced around the room. There was wine and for the more serious of drinkers, fire whiskey was at their service thanks to the open tab at the bar, which would later be billed to the Grangers. The music was loud, pulsating, rattling Harry's insides, causing his heart to feel as if it were pumping irregularly and his head had a dull ache but nobody else seemed to feel this way. After all, there was the laughter, the smiling, the moving of feet and bodies as partners danced with each other having the time of their lives- that is, until they woke up the next morning, their bodies aching and heads pounding from the intake of alcohol. Harry gulped some of his fire whiskey, wine too dull for his tastes as of late as his eyes fell on the most prominent couple in the room.

A small smile twisted onto his wet-with-alcohol lips at the sight of Hermione Granger – or should he say Weasley – and his other best mate, Ron. They were smiling wider than everybody else in the room, naturally. Hermione's head tipped back as a laugh spilled from her throat. Harry couldn't actually hear it, but he knew the sound well and Ron began laughing too, not taking his eyes off his new bride. He had said some hilariously funny, Harry imagined by the way Hermione was still laughing. Then they kissed and anybody who was watching – Hell, even if they weren't watching – could feel the passion in that kiss. Harry's smile grew for a moment before disappearing completely as he looked away to stare at the nearly empty bottle of fire whiskey in his hand. Third one this evening and he had a feeling there would be plenty more to come. Harry slid along the wall, eyeing the dancing crowd. His eyes found George who looked unnaturally happy considering he had never been the same since Fred had passed. Yes, he was still funny, still mischievous but just not the same.

There was a smile on his lips as he talked to his gorgeous wife, Angelina Johnson. They weren't dancing but were still holding onto one other, smiling at each other and looking totally enrapt in with the other person. George's hand would stray to her stomach every now and then and Harry could remember clearly how happy the two had sounded, about a week ago, when they had announced the coming of their first child. Harry's eyes traveled away, finding Mr. And Mrs. Weasley chatting with Hermione's parents who, even though they were quite used to magic by now, were still staring in unhidden amazement as plates kept refilling themselves with food, as candles floated in the air providing a romantic glow, and pictures moved and talked on the walls of the reception hall. Bill and Fleur stood next to them but they seemed to be lost in their own little world, fingers linked while Bill whispered in her ear. Harry could only imagine what devilish things the man was saying.

Suddenly there were fingers grasping his elbow, "Harry, come dance with me!" Ginny Weasley, who had grown into herself beautifully, Harry noted, was smiling at him. She looked completely gorgeous in her tight, black dress, contrasting with her pale skin. Her lips were red with lipstick and her eyes stood out more tonight than they had ever before donning mascara and light layer of eyeliner. Ginny never bothered with makeup and Harry didn't think she needed it honestly, her being naturally beautiful, but tonight she looked spectacular. No wonder blokes still walked up to him asking why – why – had he let her get away? Why had he broken things off with her? That had been a terrible, terrible mistake some would say why others would smile broadly and say, 'Thank you, now I stand a chance, tell her I'm interested, eh?' Harry never did tell her mainly because he thought they were pompous bastards who didn't deserve her.

"I don't really feel like dancing, Ginny. Haven't had enough fire whiskey to embarrass myself yet,"

"Aw, c'mon, Potter, you're a wonderful dancing. Or, I could rearrange a few more fire whiskey's to come your way if that's what it's going to take to get you to dance with me."

Harry laughed, "I think that is what it's going to take. Not that I wouldn't be honored to dance with you, of course." Ginny smiled, "Of course," She mocked and grabbed his arm again, this time leading him in the direction of the bar. "C'mon, Harry, let's get you drunk so you'll dance with me." Harry couldn't help but laugh, disposing of his empty bottle and eagerly following Ginny to the bar. Ginny let go of Harry, flirtatiously asking the bartender for two fire whiskeys. When Harry got his hand around one he brought it to his lips, taking a large gulp and sighing as it burned his insides. "You've been drinking a lot lately," Ginny stated as she glanced sidelong at him while leaning against the bar. "I guess," Harry replied not daring to look her in the eye because if he did…if he did he know she would see what he was thinking. All those drunken nights in his apartment where he drank and drank and drank just to forget. Although it had been thirteen years since the war the memories still haunted him. Nightmares every night.

And, even during the day, it was all he thought about.

"Are you alright, Harry? I know you haven't been handling things well. Is there anything I can do to help? At all? I know we're not together anymore but…" she let a hand clasp his. "If there's anything I can do at all, you know you can ask me. I'm here for you. We all are." Harry smiled over at her, reaching over to hook his arm around her neck and bring her into a tight, side hug. He kissed her gently on top of her head, "Thank you, Ginny, but I'm fine. Honestly," he added seeing her look of disbelief.

"I don't believe you, but I'll let it go for now."

The two stood in comfortable silence, just sipping at their fire whiskey. Ginny sighed wistfully, "Ron looks so happy. I don't think I've seen either of them look happier than they do now," Harry just simply nodded in agreement, wondering if that would have been him and Ginny in a few years if he had stayed with her. He knew she was probably wondering the same thing. Harry went for another sip of his beer when he realized it was empty. He turned to the bartender and got another, ignoring Ginny's pointed look at him, feeling slightly guilty. He just shrugged his shoulders at her, taking a sip as his eyes scanned the room. His heart jumped in his throat when his green met familiar silver. "Well, there's Draco," and Harry still thought it sounded so strange to hear his friends refer to him as 'Draco' and not by his last name. Especially when Ginny said it…after everything the Malfoy's had put the Weasley's through. Ginny elbowed him gently, "Will you go say hello? You completely ignored him at the wedding ceremony. I saw Hermione giving you a look from the altar, I promise you. You know she wants you two to get along, you know."

"Well, I don't think Hermione knows what she's talking about," Harry stated, tearing his eyes away from Malfoy's gaze and dragging his eyes to the fire whiskey in his hand. He knew Ginny rolled her eyes even though he hadn't been looking at her. She sighed heavily, "Really, Harry? I thought you'd grown up since school. He's not the same, you know. It's really, really weird, I'm not going to lie," she started with a soft chuckle. "He actually told me I looked nice earlier this evening and I didn't know what to say. And it was even stranger watching him hug Hermione. He even kissed her on the cheek. Ron even shook hands with him. And you can't even say hello?" Harry narrowed his eyes over at her, "Are you really standing here giving me a lecture about Malfoy right now. I really haven't had enough to drink for this."

Ginny smiled, "C'mon, Harry. Go over there. He's watching you, you know." She winked and her eyes left Harry and he knew she was looking over at Malfoy. "He's quite good looking, too. Especially tonight. You can't tell me you've never noticed…" Harry glared at her but it wasn't a true glare. He shook his head, "You are being absolutely insufferable right now, Ginny Weasley. Why can't you be like most girls when they're boyfriends break things off with them because they've suddenly realized that they might not be into girls as much as they originally thought? You're supposed to hate me, aren't you? Not hook me up with my worst enemy."

"Ex-worst enemy, actually. And I'm not like most girls. Granted, I was very angry at first wondering how I could have let myself fall in love with somebody who was so completely gay. How could I have missed it? You're so sodding dramatic all the time. And sensitive." She smiled teasingly at him as he shook his head, rolling his eyes but a smile touched his lips, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. His smiles didn't usually over the past several years. Ginny was suddenly pinching his side and he yelped, jumping away from her. "What the fuck, Ginny, what-"

"Go say hello or I'll go over there myself and tell Malfoy how you just told me about this incredible dream you had the other night involving him undressing you and-"

"Fine, Ginny, fine. I'll go say hello if that's what you really want. And I do not have dreams about bloody Malfoy."

Ginny just giggled as Harry walked away, his eyes searching for Malfoy in the crowd. Harry had lost him, it looked like and he couldn't help but be relieved. Until Ginny came up from behind him, arm wrapping around his waist. "I think he wandered outside. Just letting you know." He frowned over at her, muttering that she was insufferable once more (to which she just laughed before weaving away and through the crowd) and he slowly headed to the open doors that'd lead him outside. It was a nice night with a soft, cool breeze ruffling his already unmanageable hair. Little white lights – almost like Christmas lights minus the wire 'cause who needed wire when you had magic? – hovered over his head and in the trees creating a rather romantic atmosphere. Harry stepped down the stone steps, eyes scanning the yard behind his glasses. Yes, Harry Potter still had the glasses, though everybody was relieved that he had upgraded to a newer model…although Luna Lovegood, who worked at St. Mungo's now, had generously offered to heal his eyes with a simple spell she had created herself.

Harry had declined, slightly nervous even if he knew she could be trusted. Maybe another time, he had told her.

There was no sign of Malfoy anywhere and he thought that, perhaps, Ginny had been mistaken and he honestly hoped that she had been. Harry stepped further down the path, shoes stepping over crushed, red rose petals that had been thrown down upon Hermione and Ron's arrival. Deciding that Malfoy was nowhere to be seen and liking that it was considerably quieter out here, Harry stuffed one hand in the pocket of his dress slacks and headed towards a garden where hundreds of different flowers bloomed. There were a few benches sitting overlooking the lake and Harry took a seat with a heavy sigh, gulping eagerly at his drink, which to his dismay was almost empty.

However, he was feeling that familiar buzz in his head and that warm, relaxed feeling. Perhaps four was enough but he knew he never stopped at four. Not these days. The only way to not have nightmares was to have five or six, as horrible as that was. Sighing irritably as he thought about his nightmares, Harry angrily loosened his tie, letting it hang loosely around his neck and he hurriedly unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt letting his throat breathe. Although it was cool outside, he was feeling considerably warm, the fire whiskey burning his insides. "Not enjoying the festivities, Potter?" Harry jumped, not having heard anybody else arrive as he hadn't exactly been on his guard and the alcohol was only helping to subdue his senses. Malfoy sat without asking first, next to Harry with his own drink in his hand. However, he had wine as opposed to fire whiskey and Harry wasn't really surprised.

"I was but I came out here looking for you."

"Oh?" and Harry saw that Malfoy looked genuinely curious. Harry nodded, rolling his eyes. "Ginny practically pushed me out here. Said I had to say hello to you because you're different now and I need to grow up apparently." Malfoy snickered that so familiar snicker that he had even back in school days. "Well, she's clearly right about that notion. You're quite immature, Potter, not even able to accept change like all of your friends have." Malfoy's voice wasn't cruel at all, which was a new one for Harry. It was just simply…polite, civil. Harry glared at him, taking another swig of his drink. "I'm quite mature, Malfoy. I just don't see how everybody can so easily forget what a complete pain the arse you were." They had a staring contest for about twenty seconds before Malfoy just smiled and Harry wasn't exactly sure what to do because the Malfoy he knew never smiled.

"It wasn't easy for them, Potter, are you really that thick? It wasn't easy for any of us. How hard do you think it was for them to accept me? Even with this," he glanced down at his wrist, which was fully covered by his jacket, but Harry knew what he was looking at. "With this mark on my arm? How hard do you think it was for me to forget everything I had been brought up to believe? It took me the longest time to stop thinking of Granger," Harry interrupted, "Hermione," and Malfoy rolled his eyes. "It took me the longest time to stop thinking of Hermione as a filthy mudblood, you know. Of course, I don't believe that she is now, Potter, but it became such a habit calling her that. And the Weasley's, well, that was the hardest. Ron was the hardest to crack. I'm sure Hermione had some part in making him civil towards me."

Harry just stared. Malfoy arched an eyebrow, "I'm wrong actually." Harry interrupted, "Wow, I never thought I'd hear those words come out of your mouth." Malfoy ignored him, though his eyes narrowed a bit. "Ron wasn't the hardest to crack. You are. But, guess what, Potter?" Harry narrowed his own eyes as he glanced over at the blonde, who suddenly stood up out of his seat, brushing invisible lint off his pants.

"I'm going to prove you wrong. I'm going to show you that I've changed," he paused, taking a last sip from his wine and Harry just stared. Malfoy flashed him a smile and finished,

"I'm going to crack you, Harry Potter. You just wait and see."