"Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" Ginny asked abruptly. She looked into his eyes, trying to find an answer, a doubt, something. Harry nodded. It seemed that the word couldn't go through his lips. He didn't even dare to look at her. His eyes were gazing at his hands and her hands, twisted on the wooden table. "No Hogwarts then. Are you sure you're not going to miss it?"

What could he answer her? What could he tell her? Would she understand? Understand that he couldn't go there without seeing what happened? That every night he saw the faces of the ones who died for him. That he still could hear them. That it seemed that a part of him died that night in the woods. Of course it was the horcrux, and he had to destroy it but, nevertheless, it was a part of him. It was as if he had got rid of his scar and that he couldn't see himself in the mirror. It did not seem right. It was the right decision, but it left him empty inside. He needed time to recover. He would get over it.

It seemed to Harry that Ginny and he were in their own world, calm, yet so solemn, whilst the world around them kept on turning. Mrs Weasley was rushing everyone, like every first of September. Once or twice, she emphatically looked at the young couple, trying to tell Ginny to hurry if she did not want to miss the train. Finally, they stood up and left the burrow with Hermione, who went back to Hogwarts to finish her seventh year, Ron, Mrs Weasley and Luna, who lived nearby and decided to join them for the journey. In a mixed attitude – there were joy, excitement but also sadness, stress and resignation-, the group set off to King's Cross. Harry tried his best to seem joyful but he was not sure he convinced anyone.

When they all arrived at the Platform 9 ¾, Harry and Ginny waited for Hermione and Ron to cross the gate before crossing it together, holding hands. On the platform, Harry saw many faces he knew, some new and some he was sure he had seen before. The many faces of the platform expressed a kind of relief, confident, yet their eyes showed all the atrocities they had witnessed. Ginny hugged her mother and her brother goodbye then climbed the first step of the train and stayed there, talking with Harry until the train started to move. They promised to write to each other, to meet every time they had the occasion – for Christmas and every free weekend at Hogsmeade. Then the whistle blow rang out, striking their separation. Ginny kissed him before climbing the last step and went in front of the first window, next to Hermione. The girls waved and blew away kisses to the boys on the platform as the train went further and further away from them. The boys stayed on there, far after the Hogwarts Express became a little spot in the distance and disappeared. They were the only ones left when they finally decided to leave. Ron went back to the Burrow while Harry decided to stay a little longer in London. He knew he had to find a house, a home. He could not stay at the Burrow forever.

He wandered in the streets until he found himself in Grimmauld Place. That was not the perfect place but it could be his, at least until he would find a job and another house. He spent the day trying to tidy the house. He found in the upper floors some of Sirius' belongings he put in box while fighting back his tears. Cleaning the house recalled him the summer after Voldemort came back. He remembered his anger, anxiety and fear. It now seemed so far. As the daylight was fading away behind the big curtains, Harry felt more and more haunted by the house, the ghosts of the Christmas he spent there with his godfather, Lupin, Tonks, Moody… He always felt like Fred would apparate beside him to sneak some information about the Order.

As he could not stand it any longer, he stepped outside the door. He was standing at the door when he realized that he had nowhere to go. He could anyway rent a room in the Leaky Cauldron. He walked to the inn, looking at the ground, his head on his collar, and hiding his scar. After that emotionally exhausting day, the last thing he needed was to be recognized. He wanted to be alone.

The pub was crowded, full of parents whose children went to Hogwarts in the morning and took the opportunity to stay a bit longer in the capital city. Harry made his way to the branch, hoping that no one would see him. He arrived in front of Tom and asked him for a permanent room. A moment, he thought of giving Tom a false name, but Tom had known him for a long time and would not be fooled. However, he gave him extra Galleons to keep it secret. He climbed the stairs to the first floor, turned left and opened the second door. The room was exactly as it was five years ago, when he came in the inn after he made his aunt Marge blow up like a balloon. It smelled like moist and dirt but Harry did not mind. He was so tired that he lied down on the bed, without taking his clothes off. He stared at the ceiling, and turned around in the bed for, what it seemed, hours when he finally gave up. He took his glasses and shoes and stepped outside his room.

On the lower floor, the crowd had left the pub and only a few tables were then occupied. Harry sat down at the table in the corner, across the room, and ordered a firewhiskey. He dipped his lips in the golden liquid and gave a look around the candle lit room. Only a few people were still awake and drinking in the pub, and those were not the kind of person you would like to walk by in a dark alley. Not really dangerous people though. Just strange. An old lady was talking to herself on one the table not very far from Harry. There, a drunken man was half-asleep in front of his drink. Hopefully, no one seemed to notice him.

Someone walked into the room and walked to the branch.

"A glass of white wine."

Harry's heart jumped out of his chest as he recognized Draco Malfoy's drawling voice. The last turned around with his glass in his right hand to look for a table. In only a couple of months, he had changed a lot and he was nearly unrecognizable. The smirk that used to brighten his features had left, his eyes glanced with a mixture of fear and shame. Mostly, he looked sadder and lonelier than he ever did. For one second, Harry pitied him. Then, their eyes met and a rush of anger overwhelmed him. He could not forgive him for what he did to him. He might not be a bad guy, but neither was he a good one. He was just a little bully.

Draco hold his gaze. He had become paler than usually yet he did not blink nor turn away. He seemed to hesitate while looking at him. He drank a mouthful, then slowly stood up and walked towards Harry's table. Without asking, Draco pulled the chair and sat down his front of Harry. Harry could have sworn that he saw him frown and smirk, like he used to do what seemed to be a long time ago. Draco sat next to the table so that he could cross his long legs, dipped his lips into his glass while giving him a side glance.

"Potter."

"Malfoy"

Harry was to focus on Malfoy to care about the people around them to hear their names. He did not see all the faces turning to their table, eager to hear what The Boy Who Lived had to say to a well-known Death Eater.

"Why are you here? Don't you go to Hogwarts this year?"

"I could ask you the same."

"Fair enough."

He stared at him for a few seconds before disdainfully averting his eyes. He almost looked like the Draco Malfoy he was before if it was not the fear in his eyes. Harry could see that his hands were slightly shaking.

"What do you want Malfoy?"

But he did not answer. He pretended he did not hear and kept on staring into space, while drinking his wine. Harry waited a moment for him to answer, to say anything actually. As Draco stayed quiet, Harry drank down in one his whiskey, pushed his chair and stood up. He was leaving when the other boy finally decided to keep the conversation going.

"Have you ever thought of how things could be different?"

"How?"

"If I were sorted in Ravenclaw as the Sorting Hat first thought of."

"No sense! It didn't even touch your hair that it said Slytherin."

"Believe what you want Potter. I know that it hesitated before sorting me. If I were a Ravenclaw, we could have grown friends."

"Yeah, I've always dreamed to be friend with bullies."

"You don't understand."

"Then explain. I have plenty of time."

And he sat down. Every little part of him showed provocation, from his posture to his piercing eyes, including his sarcastic voice. Malfoy looked at him and the corners of his mouth lowered even more while his eyes wetted. Harry could not believe his eyes. Was Malfoy serious?

Draco got ready to stand up but Harry put a hand on his arm.

"Tom, two butterbeers, please."