This story continues off where Book 6 ended with the summer between sixth and seventh year – hence the title 'Summer Interlude'. It deals with Harry's feelings after the death of Dumbledore and the tremendous responsibility he now feels has been place on his shoulders.

This is also a story about what happened to Draco after he failed to kill Dumbledore and is now considered an enemy of both sides. Both Draco and Harry have to come to terms with what life has handed them. They both will learn a lot this summer about themselves and each other.

There will be smut in latter chapters. I'm trying to keep this story real and jumping in bed with your enemy right off is not realistic. This story is what the title says – 'A Summer Interlude'.

Disclaimer: I can claim no ownership of the characters or places used in this fiction and make no money from the writing of it.

The Boy-Who-Lived

"Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived," Harry mumbled, as he stood in the dumpster behind a posh London restaurant. He held onto the side as he moved the smelly trash around with his foot, looking for…

"Dinner," he muttered, when the unopened take-out containers were revealed under a pile of potato peelings. He reached down and wiped the peels off the white containers, lifting them up and taking a peek inside. Delectable pieces of chicken sitting on a bed of pasta with some sort of mushroom sauce, perfect. Excitement for his find made him smile and he held onto it with one arm as he made his way out of the dumpster.

The backdoor to the kitchen of the restaurant was open and one of workers popped his head out and looked at Harry. "Hey!"

Harry just about took off at full speed until the man added, "Wait a minute, kid, I got something else for you."

Harry glanced at him from under his shaggy bangs, teetering on his feet in indecision. The man walked outside holding a large paper bag with handles. He set it down on the ground and said, "Here, this is for you." He backed up toward the kitchen adding, "This place has got plenty and they throw lots away. I saw you the other night here, and I figured I'd make it a bit easier for you so you don't have to step into that rubbish bin. On the nights I'm working, I'll just leave you a bag out here, say about seven o'clock?"

"Thanks," Harry managed to say. He stood there until the man returned to the kitchen. Then he walked quickly over to the bag, grabbed the handles and took off, making sure none of the others were watching him. He kept walking fast, turning down one street and then down another, his head tucked down and his hair covering most of his face. At last he veered off into an alleyway, one that he used when he needed a bit of privacy and a place to store his things.

Slipping through a broken board on a fence, he walked across the small yard of an abandoned house. Opening the back door, he stepped inside the old kitchen, slinging his bag on the counter and riffling through the feast of hot buns wrapped in foil and containers of food. Harry's mouth watered when the aroma of steamy steak hit his nostrils, closing his eyes and breathing it in deeply.

"Whatcha got there, Harry?" a grizzled old man hollered from down the hall. "I can smell it!"

"A feast, Mac," Harry hollered back. He took everything up in his arms and went down the hall and into the parlor, empty save for the few blankets on the floor and a very old, disheveled man sitting against one wall. Harry brought the food over to Mac and sat across from him a few feet away, spreading the containers of food out between them.

"Ah, that smells divine," Mac said with his signature half grin. Harry had only known Mac for the last three weeks, but due to mutual need, they had become fast friends in a world they were desperately trying to shut out. "You have the steak, Harry. My teeth just ain't what they used to be."

Harry pushed the pasta container toward the old man and said, "This should be easier to swallow."

Harry told him of the restaurant and the man who had promised to leave food out for him when he was working.

"That's great, Harry," Mac said, between bites. "Nice to know there are people with good hearts out there, just like you, Harry. You have a good heart for helping out an old prune like me, eh?"

Harry looked away, feeling anything but good. He knew that his friends would be worried about him, angry that he left without them, angry that he never returned. But he couldn't. How can anyone expect a sixteen year old boy to kill a powerful wizard like Voldemort? They all expected too much from him, the whole damned wizarding world, and somehow he realized this when he stood at the graves of his parents in Godrics Hollow. Somehow the cold, hard truth came crashing down on his head and he fell on his father's grave and cried.

Dumbledore was dead.

The Dursleys had thrown him out the day after he returned from Bill and Fleur's wedding because Harry had told them…

Dumbledore was dead.

The Dursley's didn't care about him, about his well being. It was only the threats from Dumbledore that kept him with a roof over his head and now…

Dumbledore was dead.

That was fine, just fine by him. He never wanted to live with the Dursleys anyway. Harry knew he could count on the Weasleys to take him in. They had offered many times before. He had told Ron and Hermione that he wanted to visit Godrics Hollow, where he was born, and see the house that he had lived in for a short time with his parents. They said they would come with him. They would come with him in a few weeks, they said, because they wanted to go home for awhile and be with their families, a desire Harry did not share.

But Harry couldn't wait a few weeks; he was standing on the street now, his trunk being pulled with one hand and holding Hedwig with the other. Kicked out… they kicked him out!

When the Night Bus came, Harry meant to say, "Take me to the Burrow." But he didn't. He said, "Take me to Godrics Hollow." Somehow that felt right, as if he too had a family waiting for him there, wanting to see him after being away at school. He closed his eyes and imagined the warm smiles and hugs when he walked through the door, his parents exclaiming, "Harry! You're here!" They would sit down together and talk about school and he would tell them about Ginny. They would say that Ginny would be welcomed to come for a visit and we'd have such a marvelous summer together.

Ginny…

Harry opened his eyes as the bus drove on, ignoring the wild jarring and jolting. He had broken it off with Ginny after the funeral. How that had hurt! He hated remembering the hurt expression on her face. It was for her own good, Harry had told himself. He had a dangerous mission ahead of him, knowing that finding the remaining horcruxes was going to put him in harms way. If Voldemort discovered what Harry was up to, Harry was sure that the evil wizard would try to get to them first. No way did he want Ginny facing Death Eaters or the Dark Lord himself. As he thought about it more, he didn't want to put Ron and Hermione in danger as well. They had families that loved them and would mourn them and miss them, all because Harry had dragged them along into danger and got them killed.

No, Harry had decided, he wouldn't take his friends with him. This was something he had to do alone. If he died, no one's life would be drastically changed. Sure, the Weasleys and Hermione would mourn him a bit, but they'd get on with their lives.

Those were his thoughts when he had arrived in Godrics Hollow, standing on a curb as the bus skidded away and realizing that he didn't know the address of the house his parents lived in. He felt like a fool, coming so unprepared. He could send Hedwig to Remus. Perhaps he'd be able to tell him the address, maybe. But then what? The Potters hadn't lived here in fifteen years. The house was probably occupied by strangers, muggles even.

Harry had flopped down on the curb and looked at his Snowy owl, staring at him with her big eyes. "I'm an idiot, Hedwig. We've got no place to sleep and I don't have any money with me. We should have gone to the Burrow."

The disappointment that set in Harry's heart grew and his fantasy of 'coming home' was smothered in despair. He cradled his head in his hands and his tears were close to falling when he heard the sound of wheels rolling. Looking up, he saw a woman and her husband pushing a pram down the walkway, going for an evening stroll. Harry couldn't help but think that his parents had walked him down this very street, just in that way.

He watched the couple happily chatting as they moved on and Harry stood and began to follow at a distance. He didn't know why, but he didn't want to stop looking at them. It was one of the loveliest images he had ever seen.

Harry silently followed, hoping they wouldn't turn about and see him. He pulled his wand out and did a silencing spell on the wheels of his trunk. The thought went through his head that he should have put on his invisibility cloak, but that would require stopping and getting it out of his trunk, and by then the happy family would be gone.

Twenty minutes had past since he had first started following and now they were walking past a large gate with a sign that said Godrics Hollow Cemetery. Harry stopped and looked at the sign, his heart beating wildly. They're here. There's my happy family, he thought. He stuck his trunk and Hedwig's cage into a dark recess of the stone wall and then squeezed himself through the gate, the chain on it just loose enough for a boy of Harry's size to wiggle through.

"Lumos," Harry said, holding up his wand for light. A sick feeling fell over his heart at the memory of the last time he was in a cemetery at night, the night Cedric was killed and Lord Voldemort had returned to bodily form. It occurred to Harry that he should just wait until morning, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from reading the headstones that he passed, the eerie glow of the wand was just enough to read with. It seemed that he had walked for miles, reading each stone. When he came to the end of a row, he turned and went down the next row back, continuing his search.

A sound to his right startled Harry on this still night and he turned about, holding his wand up to see what it was. A twig snapped and leaves rustled and Harry said, "Show yourself."

Harry almost jumped when a stag appeared a few rows back, standing there and looking at Harry's light. After a few moments, it turned and ran off into a copse of trees. Harry made his way over to the place where the stag had been standing and looked at the headstones before him.

A swell of emotion came overcame him and he fell to his knees as the tears began to stream down his cheeks. "Mum… Dad… I'm back," he cried. "I came home."

They had shared a large headstone, Lily and James Potter. And Harry imagined them down there, entwined together in the same coffin, loving each other through eternity. He scooted towards the cold stone and laid his head down on it as he wept himself asleep hours later.

When he woke the next morning, stiff and cold, he stood and looked around at the cemetery in the daylight. It was different in the day, in fact it was beautiful. A caretaker had planted beds of flowers in various places which were now blooming with summer color.

Harry felt utterly spent. He had no more tears left to cry, his eyes dry and sore. Looking down at the headstone once more, he made a decision, feeling that it was a turning point in his life.

He no longer wanted to be a wizard, he decided. He wanted no part of that world any longer. His mum, dad, Sirius and now Dumbledore were all dead, dead because they were protecting Harry. Well, he wouldn't let anyone else die for him, not if he could help it. He'd just stay away; go back to being a muggle.

He would write a letter to Remus Lupin and tell him all about the horcruxes and then it would be the Order's responsibility to find them. They were all skilled witches and wizards, after all. Why wouldn't they have more success at finding them? Why depend on one sixteen year old boy when they could do a much better job at it?

Hermione, Ron, Ginny…

They would be out of danger. That was the most important thing. Voldemort would leave them alone if he thought Harry didn't care about them anymore. If Harry looked as if he just forgot about them, they'd be safe, wouldn't they?

The feeling that he was doing the right thing pushed back the guilt that tried to interfere with his decision. "No more people will die for me," he said out loud. "No more." He turned and left the cemetery, not sure where he was going anymore. All he knew was that he had to get lost. If he didn't do magic, no one would find him.

That was how Harry ended up in London, thinking that big cities were the perfect places to get lost in. He couldn't go anywhere in the wizarding world - people would know him there. Unfortunately that meant he couldn't go to Gringotts and get his money, exchange it for some muggle cash.

Luckily it was summer and the nights spent sleeping outdoors were bearable. He had spent three days wandering around, trying not to stay in the same spot too long and looking over his shoulder for any of 'them'. It wasn't just Death Eaters, or Voldemort he was hiding from, but all of them: the Order of the Phoenix and his friends. In fact, he was hiding from just about anyone who might know him.

He had found an alley with lots of boxes and crates lying about and stashed his trunk away during the day. As for Hedwig, he had sent her off to Lupin with the letter and told her that she couldn't come back to him. He told her to go to Hermione and become her owl since she didn't have one. Hedwig looked at him with those round eyes and Harry just about broke down in tears when he tossed her into the air and on her way. But he couldn't have a Snowy Owl following him around. That would be the same as having a neon sign pointed at him.

It was in this alley that he met Mac, an old homeless man who didn't care to know Harry's past. All that mattered to Mac was the present and Mac taught Harry things, survival skills for living on the streets and finding food. Mac taught Harry how to avoid the police and how to stay out of trouble with the street thugs and drug addicts.

But Mac didn't just do this out of the kindness of his heart. He was old and his joints would swell with pain. He couldn't get around much anymore and finding food was becoming difficult when the others got to it before his old bones could.

Harry, on the other hand, didn't mind finding food for the both of them as Mac provided him with companionship and helped fill the loneliness he felt from leaving his friends behind. It was Mac who told Harry about the empty house behind the alley and how it sure would be nice to have a roof over their heads. So Harry found a way in one night and ever since it provided a safe place for them to sleep.

Now Harry sat here with his new friend, watching him gnaw on pasta with his remaining teeth. Mac had called him kind-hearted. Hah! If he even knew, Harry thought. I've turned my back on my friends and the Order of the Phoenix. There was nothing kind about that. Harry couldn't enjoy his food anymore, now that thoughts of Ron, Hermione and Ginny being disappointed in him filled his mind. He put down the steak that he had been holding in his hand, due to the fact that there was no cutlery, and he wiped his hand on his dirty jeans.

"I'm going for a walk," Harry said, getting up.

"But you didn't eat much," Mac said.

"I'll eat it later," Harry said, despondently.

Mac watched Harry as he carefully slipped out the back door and into the night. "Such a moody boy," Mac mumbled.

OOOOOOOOO

Hermione had arrived at the burrow an hour ago and now sat with Molly, Ron and Remus Lupin as they filled her in on events. When Ron had owled her that Harry went missing, she told her parents that she had to go and help with the search. She was extremely worried that the Death Eaters had gotten Harry, though she wondered why they wouldn't be bragging about it if they had.

"Tell me what his aunt and uncle said," Hermione asked. Lupin had went to Privet Drive to inquire about Harry's whereabouts just yesterday.

"His uncle very rudely said that he didn't know and he didn't care and he slammed the door in my face," Lupin answered. "I knew Harry hadn't been around there lately as his scent was nowhere about."

"And the letter, what did it say?" Hermione asked.

Lupin handed it over for her to read herself and Hermione's expression turned to stunned disbelief.

"I don't buy it! This has to be some ruse. Harry would never turn his back on the wizarding world. Someone else wrote this," she insisted.

"Hermione, his scent is all over that letter. He did write it," Lupin said, sadly. His keen werewolf senses knew everyone's individual scent.

Just then Arthur Weasley came through the door. "I have some new information," he said, as he quickly kissed Molly's cheek and sat down. "The Night Bus dropped Harry off in Godrics Hollow about three weeks ago."

"Godrics Hollow?" Ron said. "That's where Hermione and I were supposed to go with him. But he never returned any of our letters we wrote asking him when he wanted to leave. He just left without us!"

Ginny, who had been standing in the doorway, said, "Perhaps he didn't want to get you in danger, too. He's pushing us all away."

"Rubbish!" Hermione exclaimed. "I think someone is holding him hostage and forced him to write this letter. Harry is not the type of person to turn his back on his friends."

Lupin stood up and said, "I think we should start by following his trail. We won't know what really happened until we find him. I'm off to Godrics Hollow."

Arthur stood as well, "I'll go with you."

OOOOOOOO

Draco Malfoy sat in the small, muggle flat, flipping through the television channels with the remote control. He had never watched television before he had come here, to his hide out, and he wondered what muggles found so interesting about it. Most shows were about a bunch of bloody muggles whining about their stupid muggle problems. He was so glad he wasn't one of them, even though he was forced to live like one for now.

He turned off the T.V. and threw the remote on the coffee table. Tilting his head back against the sofa, he closed his eyes and thought how nice it would be to have his wand back. He wouldn't have to be resigned to doing such common tasks like washing his dishes – by hand! He even had to learn how to clean his own laundry. Imagine that – Draco Malfoy reduced to servants work. Hah! And then trying to cook for himself – what a joke. More often than not, Draco would slip on his black haired wig and careful make his way to a restaurant of some type. He had to be careful not to draw attention to himself and he usually ended up at some greasy fast food joint just so he could make a quick exit.

He felt as crappy as the food he ate and he dreamed that his mother would allow him a house elf. Just one - he wouldn't be greedy, one that could cook. But she and Snape had told him that he couldn't have anything from the magical world that would give him away. Draco had fallen out of favor with the Dark Lord after that fiasco with Dumbledore and he was now officially on the expendable list. No magic and he had to disguise himself if he wanted to leave the flat.

He wasn't even allowed magical books to read. He had to read the dumb muggle books that Snape had dropped by. He was bored to death, being cooped up with no one to talk to and nothing to do. It was almost worth risking his neck back in the magical world than staying here.

He stood up and stretched his long arms over his head, walking over to his little window that overlooked Central Park. He frowned when he saw the same bum lying on the bench under the lamplight, throwing rocks up into a tree. That disgusting bloke came there almost every night, to that same bench, and threw rocks at the same tree. He looked like he hadn't brushed his shaggy hair for years. Probably vermin crawling through it, Draco guessed.

Yet Draco couldn't help but feel that he and the bum had one thing in common. They were both bored to death. Perhaps I should try throwing rocks at trees, he thought.

It was obvious that the bum didn't like birds, as the rocks made them fly out of the branches and away. "Cruel bastard," Draco said. He watched as more birds flew off into the night sky until… "Wait a moment," Draco said aloud. "Those aren't just birds, they're owls!"

His eyes opened wide and he shut the draperies across the window. Someone must be looking for him! Damn it! Why had he left the flat so much?! Someone probably spotted him and now they were waiting for him to come by again. At least they don't know what flat I'm in, he thought. I'll just have to stay in from now on.

His heart was pounding and he peeked out of the drapery at the bum again. "Who the fuck are you?" he mumbled.

OOOOOOOOO

"Go on, shoo," Harry hissed at the owls in the tree above him. Harry knew about those kinds of owls. They were search owls. They were sent to find specific people with their keen eyesight. Then when you untied the letter they had for you, the sender would automatically know where you were. As long as you didn't touch the letter, they couldn't find you. Luckily for Harry, owls couldn't talk.

He didn't feel like going back to the house tonight. It felt good out here on this warm summer night. This bench had become his nightly destination for the last two weeks. Usually he would lay on it and watch the moths flying about the light above him, thinking, just… thinking.

Tonight he wondered who sent those search owls for him. Was it the Order, or perhaps the Weasleys? Maybe even Hagrid? Harry sniffled and turned onto his side as he thought of the people he had left behind. Were they thinking of him too right now? In time, they would forget him and assume he was dead somewhere.

"Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived," Harry mumbled as he dozed off to sleep on this warm summer's night.

OOOOOOOO

A/N Sort of depressing, I know. But I wanted to delve deeper down into the characters than I normally do in my other stories. I would love any feedback as this is a bit of a different approach for me and I'd like to know if it's interesting or not. Please let me know your thoughts.