Title: Going back home
Author: Dacara
Rating: T
Length: ~1,400 words
Genre: drama/romance
Warnings: Character death, mild bad language
Status: Complete
Summary: Short. Draco/Harry. Harry dies and goes back home. Warnings: Character death, mild bad language
*** Going back home ***
When he died, Harry thought that his ending was, while rather anticlimactic, surprisingly fitting.
He died at the ripe age of 43. Broke his neck while saving his first granddaughter who found her way onto the rooftop. How, he had no idea and would probably never know. The only thing he remembered clearly was the moment where he sat with Ginny and his oldest, James, on the balcony, looked up and saw little Lily tilt to the side with a surprised expression on her round face. He was on the railing before he even knew it, wand in hand and Accio on his lips. The girl flew to him through the air fast, his emotions affecting his magic, smacked straight into him and bounced of harmlessly, her untrained magic manifesting for the very first time.
It was a pity that he was thrown off the railing and fell 2 stories down, headfirst.
Harry was almost certain that they didn't scream. First, there was this relieved silence when Lily was safely on the balcony but when they turned to him both Ginny and James realized that he was gone. He supposed that the crack when he hit the concrete was rather telling, too. Harry thought he heard Al, who was supposed to take care of the grill as the rest of the family hid inside the house, yell as if someone was skinning him alive. He sounded like a hurt cat, a sharp sound that carried and rung in the ears. For a moment he was worried that he had somehow hit his youngest son while falling but released a rattling sound of relief when he saw Al running towards him.
And then he was too cold and too sleepy, and the hands that were touching his were distant and their voices too quiet. Harry heard the doors banging, more people coming but it just all drifted away and was replaced by silence. For a moment he thought he heard Dumbledore's voice, telling him not to worry because death was only another adventure, but that was just silly.
When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the Gryffindor's hourglass filled with hundreds of glittering rubies. The sight gave him a pause since he knew for a fact that after the Battle of Hogwarts the hourglasses for all the houses, destroyed during the fight, were replaced with intricate abacuses. Ministry thought them more appropriate for the school setting and the fact that most of the jewels was stolen sometime in the post-battle turmoil also had a bit of the bearing on the decision. Harry had, in fact, taken few of the rubies himself, secreting them in his pocket until the time came to dig the graves. He personally put one in the coffin of all of his friends, avoiding McGonagall's eyes as she looked sadly at him.
Yet, here they were in all their glory. And, as Harry looked around, he realized that the hourglasses weren't the only thing that changed. Or rather didn't. That tapestry of the grey hound was the same one he hid behind when he stayed at the lakeshore over the curfew and then had to avoid Filch as he sneaked back to the Gryffindor Tower. The suits of armor were not banged up and matted with sooth that could never be quite cleaned but were shiny and as magnificent a he remembered them to be his first year in Hogwarts. The doors of the Great Hall were yet to be taken down, too cracked to be repaired, yet too irregular to be easily replaceable.
And as he stood there, he heard quick footsteps coming from the direction of the moving staircase and soon three boys in black robes and scarlet ties were running for the front doors, each carrying a broom . Seamus and Dean were in the front, arguing about one thing or another, the Irish boy tugging at his roommates robes with an expression that was both apologetic and utterly wicked, happy gleam in his eyes. Dean just rolled his eyes, knowing that the prat of his best mate never could be all that serious and giving the shorter boy a small smile when he wasn't looking, too busy talking with his arms flailing wildly.
Harry felt his heart clench when a tall, lanky redhead walking behind them waved at him and smiled. His robes were a bit worn at the cuffs and a bit too short, the broom a secondhand from his older brothers but the blue eyes smiled at Harry as his lips did. He slowed a bit and waved at the staircase, mouthing the word library with a wicked grin and then run after his two friends leaving a teary-eyed Harry behind. They all burst out laughing when they passed the door, no doubt planning a new strategy to get back at the Slytherins or just retelling old stories of one or the other trouble they got in through the years.
As Harry moved towards the staircase and mounted it waiting for the next move he played with a ring on his finger. The glamour he used to make it look like his wedding band wore off, leaving a simple silver ring with a small snake eating its tail etched on the surface and the word forever inscribed on the underside. He remembered how Ginny was always asking him about it and then the blazing rows when he wore the silver ring instead of the gold band he exchanged vows over. Harry made sure to use the glamour only he could take off and to hide his real wedding ring well in his office at the Ministry.
When the staircase let him off at the third floor Harry walked briskly down the stone hallway, stopping only briefly when a small boy blinded him with a camera flash and a quick 'Hi, Harry!'. Down the hall, near the shortcut to the Dungeons, Snape was prowling with an old wizard with flowing white beard following closely behind. When they passed him, carrying with them a glower and a delicate scent of lemons, Harry laughed out loud and ignoring the angry threats of deducted house points coming from behind ,ran the rest of the way to the library.
When he entered , he saw madam Pince waving her wand at the stack of books sending them to their respective places on the shelf and glaring at two Hufflepuff boys who didn't seem to be bothered about it in the slightest judging by their giggles. On his way to the back of the library, to the small table next to the Defense Against The Dark Arts section, he passed a girl with long bushy brown hair sitting by the window. She had an impressive tome in front of her, Hogwarts: a History, if Harry wasn't mistaken, but she was far more occupied with throwing small glances at the few figures which were now flying on the Quidditch pitch. Their voices carried all the way to the castle and flew through the open window making both of them smile when one of the players started to curse out the other two, who 'weren't bloody serious about playing'. The girl scoffed and shook her head, noticing Harry for the first time. She smiled and nodded her head and he waved without stopping.
And when he finally emerged from between the shelves and reached the very back of the library, he found a blond haired boy sitting there, reading an advanced potions textbook. His black robes were on the back of his chair, the silver-green tie loose around his throat, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his usual rigid perfection forgotten in the face of the hot June sun. The worried wrinkles around his eyes that Harry remembered were smoothed over and the thin lips were for once not in a smirk or a scowl but bent in a delicate smile.
Then those gray eyes looked up and Harry forgot how to breathe.
"Where were you, Potter? You're late."
And Harry simply rounded the table, tugged out a chair and sat down next to the boy. He gave him a brilliant grin and answered.
"It doesn't matter." He leaned over and gave a quick peck to the lips he dreamt of for the past 26 years and for once didn't need to look around to make sure they were alone. " I'm back home now."