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Summary: Harry is contemplating what he is to do for the rest of his life after Voldemort's defeat and it's not looking too bright. Who ends up being the one to bring him back? ONE-SHOT.
The Rock
Harry gazed across the dark, impenetrable lake from where he sat on a rather uncomfortable rock contemplating his future – or lack thereof. Everything looked so bleak and empty. It seemed as if everything was falling apart at the seams and nothing appeared to matter anymore.
To everyone else in the wizarding world, on the other hand, it was the start of a bright new beginning. Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, had finally defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. There was nothing left to fear. Nothing left to tear families apart. There was no chance of seeing the Dark Mark once more against the backdrop of the sky. It was the end of an era of darkness and the beginning of one full of life.
Harry snorted. It was the beginning of nothing. There were still the remaining Death Eaters that still roamed free to do whatever they wished to the lesser-than-dirt halfbloods and muggleborns. This was only a small little break before people started to realize how there were more important things to do like replace the now – thankfully – deceased Minister Fudge with someone more competent and to round up the rest of Voldemort's followers. After all, it was only a matter of time until the next Dark Lord and his cronies with some utterly ridiculously morbid name rose and another hero had to do the job of getting rid of the said Dark Lord.
It was an endless cycle.
Neither can live while the other survives. (1)
Harry sighed heavily.
"Well, that part happened. I'm alive. I'm living. What now?" He muttered to himself. "The prophecy's done with and gone. My two best friends are dead along with my godfather and even my so-called relatives! Everyone I care about is gone… And I'm a bloody murderer. That bloody well takes the cake!"
Harry's voice trailed off dejectedly and in his hopeless state of mind, he completely missed the sound of soft footsteps slowly plodding towards him.
Draco stopped advancing towards Potter about five feet away, staring at the hero of the wizarding world, attempting to figure out the Boy Wonder. He abruptly broke the silence.
"Potter. What on earth are you doing out here?"
The said boy was startled out of his thoughts as he turned around, eyes widening slightly in surprise. He sighed again.
"Nothing, Malfoy. Absolutely nothing."
It was now Draco's turn to be surprised. He had expected Potter to answer with some insult or sarcastic comment. Instead, he received an honest answer – most possibly the most honest answer that he had ever received, even though that didn't say much – from his sworn enemy. It intrigued him, to say the least. Harry Potter, the Golden Gryffindor, actually answered him with a hint of civility. He decided to do the same in turn and, along the way, figure out what Potter was thinking about so deeply.
"What were you doi- thinking about?" Draco inquired once again in a more civil tone of voice while sitting down on the remainder of the rock beside the boy. "I don't know about you but this choice of furniture is rather uncomfortable."
Potter shifted and turned towards Draco.
"No one told you to sit there, did they?"
Draco glared at him, thinking Potter was going to ignore his question, opened his mouth to ask again after a long pause, but was interrupted before he could say a word.
"Life."
Draco blinked. "What?"
"Life. That was what I was thinking about. Or if you'd rather, what is left of life."
Draco paused to process the information. "Pot-."
"Harry." Potter interjected once more. "Call me Harry. War's over and all. And don't worry. No one is going to know that you spoke with Harry bloody Potter." Potte- No, Harry, sneered the last part. Draco ignored it.
"Harry." The word was said slowly as if it was unfamiliar to the tongue due to lack of speaking. Draco could see Harry roll his eyes. He ignored it, once again. "What do you mean by 'what was left of life'?"
Harry seemed to actually think about his response.
"I suppose you could say I was thinking about the future. I mean, what else is there for me? I did what I was here to do. There's nothing else."
"There are many other things to live for, you know." Draco said exasperatedly.
"No. There isn't." Harry replied frankly. "I don't want to be an auror anymore. I don't want to catch Dark Wizards for the rest of my life." He paused there and a corner of his mouth twitched with the ghost of a smile. "I believe I've enough of that to last several lifetimes. I suppose I'm good at quidditch, but I dunno."
Here, Draco rolled his eyes but refrained from saying anything while Harry continued to voice his thoughts.
"Then there's the fact that most every person that I ever cared about is gone." His voice grew dull. "Sirius, Ron, 'Mione, Ginny, Luna, Mrs. Weasley, and even Dumbledore. And I suppose my parents as well, even though I hardly know them. So along with the fact that there's nothing to live for, there's no one to live for!"
"Well, what about the rest of the Wizarding World?" Draco asked. For some odd reason, he felt a sense of despair at Harry's last comment.
Harry let out a harsh laugh.
"Why should I live for the Wizarding World a second time? What have they done for me? They've only alienated me when it helped them and they emblazoned my name in good light when it suited them. Even the people in this school did the same thing! Hell, I'm even letting out my thoughts to you! Someone who hates my guts!" Harry was about to continue until he heard a soft spoken response from his school rival.
"I don't hate your guts."
"Wh- What? What do you mean you don't hate my guts? Of course you do!"
"No, I don't. I may have insulted you at every chance that I got" Harry snorted at this. "but I don't hate you. I might have disliked you in some situations but it was mainly because my- Because of my pride." Harry's eyes widened as he understood what Draco was silently referring to.
"But that was seven years ago!"
Draco shrugged. "It still hurt. The famous Harry Potter rejected me!"
Harry studied Draco's face closely. Suddenly, he turned his body towards his one-time enemy and held out his hand with the first true smile since from before the Final Battle.
"I'm Harry, Harry Potter."
Draco's eyes widened at the sudden reversed roles that mimicked the infamous confrontation from seven years ago. The confrontation that he still smarted from, years later. With a small smile, Draco took Harry's hand.
"Draco, Draco Malfoy."
Then the two former enemies turned to face towards the lake once more.
Draco cleared his throat, his cheeks a pale pink from the emotions shown moments before. "Your choice of furniture is poor but the view is pretty good."
Harry smiled. "I believe you just complemented me."
Draco smirked.
"So, do you have someone to live for now?"
Harry blinked once, twice, thrice. A smile slowly appeared on his face.
Draco waited for a response for a full minute before realizing he already had a response. He rolled his eyes once more.
"I suppose that's a yes?"
A smile greeted him again.
"Argh! You're impossible!"
Harry laughed.
"I suppose that would be a positive indication, multiplied by a million."
As Harry's laugh faded, a smile replaced his lips. "No, I believe that was exactly what it was: a laugh."
Draco rolled his eyes yet again for the hundredth time that night as both boys turned back towards the yielding lake, each with a smile.
The rock appeared to be much more comfortable now to both of the occupants.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed it (at least a smidge?)!
Taken from the prophecy from OotP
Siri