When he thinks back on it now, it's all barely a memory: the fire, the pain, and the final end of the war. He remembers having one eye open, barely seeing the destruction, and hearing a warm voice whisper, "It's okay, Harry. It's over."

But that was ages ago.

Voldemort is dead.

As are so many others: Tonks, Moody, Percy, Sirius and...and...

"Harry?"

It's been nearly a year and he still can't get used to just being Harry. It's not right. He's just not that person anymore, not after all that's happened. But no one calls him by anything else.

He blinks open his eyes, hand resting on the edge of his desk and his glasses lying on the floor neatly. Remus Lupin is staring at him, worried, and holding a glass of juice that Harry knows will be one he does not want.

"I didn't see you."

Harry sits up some, looking away, and carefully lifting his foot through the air and above his glasses to turn around. He hears Remus come into his room, softly padding bare toes across the cold floor to set the juice near him.

He can't abide by coffee, and he hates juice. Most drinks make him physically sick. No one's at all sure why, and he doesn't care if he ever knows.

"Are you hungry? I..."

Harry looks up into Lupin's tired face, lonely and warm eyes that want desperately to be needed by someone. He has to force himself to look away. "I'm fine."

A sigh, more shuffled footsteps, and a whispered, "Goodnight Harry," before the door closes.

In a lot of ways, he knows Sirius would not approve of his anger towards Remus. He knows, actually, that Sirius would be angry with him. That doesn't stop him from continuing his same feelings, thoughts, and actions. There isn't a part of him that can forgive Remus.

There's a noise from the fireplace and Harry looks up with a smile. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

Hermione, beautiful in her dark blue robes with her hands on her hips and belly rounder than ever, looks at him with something like disapproval. "Harry."

He stands, holds out his arms, and she sighs, lifts up her arms in defeat and hugs him tightly. The baby is coming far along now, kicking him once before he leans down to kiss her forehead. "How's my favorite Auror?"

She stays in his embrace, closing her eyes. "Tired. Angry. Ron's mother is being a pain again. Telling me it isn't natural for a woman 'in my condition' to be fighting evil. As if she wasn't doing the same at my age."

Harry holds her a little tighter and shuts his eyes, images of Ron's dying eyes and whispered, "Tell her I love her, mate. I've never loved anyone so bloody much in my entire life," before he died.

A lump rises in his throat and he kisses her head again. "She's just worried, is all."

One more hug, a sigh, and she lets go. "I know. I just..." she looks him in the eyes and he can see how tired she really is,"...everyone acts like I'm so useless because I'm having a child. I'm still me, damn it. I..." she takes a breath and Harry conjures a cushion under her before she falls.

"You're overdoing it, 'mione."

He comes over to her on his knees and touches her forehead. She's warm, but she's okay. He can hear the baby's heartbeat, both of their heartbeats actually, louder than ever.

After it was all over Hermione had tried to get him studying to be a Healer. She said it was a waste to keep all his power to himself. So he went out, healed a few hundred witches and wizards in Mungo's, and then kept to himself.

A whispered spell and she's awake, blinking at him in a daze. "Harry?"

"You fainted, love."

She sighs. "Don't tell Molly."

Harry smiles. "I won't. I promise."

Hermione sits up a little and regards him quietly. "How long have you been holed up in here today?"

He doesn't meet her eyes. "Not long."

"You're not a very good liar, Harry. You never were. Ron used to..." she trails off, her voice thickening when she finishes, "...laugh about it."

Harry takes her hand and whispers, "It's okay to miss him."

Her face crumbles a bit more but she doesn't let go of his hand. "I know that. You don't think I know that?"

He sighs. "Tell me about your partner."

Brightness comes over her and she grins up at him. "He yelled at Dervish for being concerned over me when we were at the Death Eater party. You should've seen his face. I almost kissed him."

Harry stands, a slight smile on his face, with his back to her. "I'm sure he wouldn't have objected if you had."

She laughs. "Draco Malfoy, object to kissing me? Harry, I've already kissed him repeatedly."

He rounds on his heels, eyes wide. "What?"

Hermione leans back on his hands, stomach out and proud with a delighted smile in her skin. "Oh yes. Malfoy, and me we're constant kissers. You should see us. Making out all over the office. I gave him a handjob just the other day in..."

Harry laughs and shakes his head, looking away. "You're horrible."

"At least I've learned to forgive and forget."

The room is quiet and he does not turn around, walking until his head is against the door and eyes close instinctively.

"It was two years ago, Harry. Sirius forgave him."

"No, he didn't."

"He did, Harry. He..."

Harry turns and stares at her angrily. "Sirius LEFT! He left because he couldn't...he...he was here, Hermione. He could've stayed and he decided to just up and die because he couldn't..."

"Harry."

"He made Sirius leave."

"Harry, no."

"YES! You didn't...you..."

There's a flash from behind them and Harry turns away, wiping at any stray tears.

"Well Potter, I see you've decided not to leave your cave for the rest of your natural life. Good idea. I'll board up the windows and you can..."

"Draco, shut up," Hermione snaps.

Harry whispers a spell to clear his face before turning around and seeing Draco, a vision of regality in black and green, looking over the room with distaste. "Malfoy."

Draco smiles icily and steps over a pile of books on the floor. "Nice place, Potter. You've adjusted to the life that Black left behind with remarkably predicable ease and in such short time. I'm sure he'd be so proud."

"Draco," Hermione scolds, eyeing him with growing anger,"...stop it."

Draco smiles at her, leaning his back against an armchair.

Harry refuses to acknowledge him more.

The three of them are quiet for some time, Hermione's eyes closing some after waiting for either man to speak civilly. Ten minutes pass and she growls out, "God, the two of you are such children! I...," she goes to stand and fails, falling onto Harry's cushion and cursing in frustration,"...I can't...damn it!"

Both Harry and Draco's mouths open and wands rise at the same time to cast a spell but she's faster, lifting her body up magically and sighing when her feet hit the ground.

Hermione's eyes meet Harry's with nothing but warmth. "He wouldn't want you to be doing this Harry, and you know it. Don't pretend that you don't."

Harry looked at the floor, his jaw set, stubbornly refusing to answer.

She looks to Draco. "And you. Did that make you feel better, being an asshole for no apparent reason? DID IT? Because it sure as hell makes no sense why the two of you refuse to be civil," she looked at both of them and growled out, "The war is OVER. It's OVER! You...you're on the same side! This childhood rivalry..."

"We're still bloody teenagers, Hermione," Draco mumbles, looking--like Harry--at the floor, "We're allowed to act like children."

She rolls her eyes. "You're grown men, now. I know that I put aside every difference that I had in order to..."

Harry picked up a book from another pile (there were several littering the floor) and suddenly threw it across the room, sending it flying over Hermione's head.

"WE'RE NOT YOU, OKAY? Can't I have my own opinions and feelings for once in my bloody natural life? Can't I just...be angry when I want and hate people because they irritate me?" he stalked over to where both Hermione and Draco were watching him with wide eyes, "I've been doing and feeling and saying what everyone else wants and needs me to feel for the last seven years and this," he indicated Draco, "is anger that I need. So don't tell me about being adult because I've been one, Hermione, since the day I saw Cedric die and I just..." his voice trailed off, tears rapidly falling down his face.

Hermione reached out to touch him and he flinched, stepping away. "Harry..."

He shook his head.

She looked at Draco, who regarded Harry with intense interest and then raised an eyebrow at Hermione. "I think we should..." she started to whisper.

"No," Harry whispered hoarsely, "I...I need to talk to Malfoy."

She looked at him, then at Draco. "Um...sure, I'll just...I'll owl you tomorrow and we'll talk later."

Harry nodded and walked with her across the room to the fireplace; standing just close enough to pass her the floo powder once she was inside. They locked eyes and she swallowed before whispering, "Are you sure you'll...?"

"It's fine, 'mione. It's just...business."

She eyed them both worriedly, looking at Draco with trepidation. "All right. I'll see you?" she asked Draco.

"As long as Potter doesn't kill me while you're gone, yes," he smiles, "I'm sure you'll be shaking with anticipation till then?"

She smiles. "Of course."

Harry held out the box of powder and she took a handful before yelling out, "The Burrow!" and disappearing.

Harry looked at Draco. "The Burrow?"

Draco shrugged. "She's been staying there for a while, comes and goes as she pleases."

Harry walked across the room, eyeing the disarray. "I have a problem."

Draco looked at the floor. "I'd say you have. Did you put those books there or is Lupin trying to make a nest for himself?"

Harry held back a smirk and coughed. "No, it's...it's..."

"Potter."

Harry looked at him.

Draco sighed. "Are you about to tell me you've secretly fancied me for the last seven years and now you're dying from unrequited lust? I told 'mione just the other night that you'd been staring at me way too often the last time you were at Mungo's and..."

"Draco, shut up a second, yeah?"

Draco was quiet. "Are you about to tell me you're..."

Harry growled and ripped open his shirt, suddenly revealing his problem and leaving Draco speechless. The blonde swallowed and whispered, "So that's why your hair looks so bloody long all the time."

Harry left his shirt open, his fur covered chest visible, and sat on the cushion Hermione had been on minutes before.

"I'm assuming you did not do this to yourself?"

Harry glared at him.

Draco sat on the armchair he'd been leaning against, clicking his tongue. "Did you shag some dirty Animagus and get some disease? Like, Lion Pox or something?"

Harry covered his face with his hands. "You're useless."

"What did you expect me to say, Potter? I'm an Animagus, yes. But I'm not a bloody lion or a panther or anything. I'm a snake. It took me years to do, and you've suddenly become one overnight. So? It's not like your arms are falling off. It's cool. You can scratch Lupin's throat out while he sleeps now and save yourself the trouble of tearing out his heart nice and slow, like you're doing already."

"Fuck you."

Draco grinned. "Is that what this is about? Was I supposed to think we're brothers now and offer to suck your new furry dick or something? Slither all over you like some..."

Harry growled, his entire body shaking with anger. "Fuck you."

"You wish, Potter."

They fell deathly quiet, neither acknowledging the other but Draco watched him all the same, enjoying every minute of Harry's growing anger. He clicked his tongue and felt a bit of himself wanting to change, just to see Potter's reaction, but not knowing if he'd be alive to see the aftermath.

"So, Potter has a problem."

"If you have nothing of use to say, just shut your mouth. Please."

Draco smiled. "I always have something of use to say, Harry," Harry looked up at his name, "You just never listen."

They stared each other down and neither heard the door open behind them until a voice whispered, "Oh. Hello Draco."

Draco turned, breaking the gaze and seeing Remus Lupin standing in the open doorway.

"Professor."

"Remus, please," Remus looked at Harry still glaring into the back of Draco's head and then at Draco, "Harry, you received an owl from Neville just a moment ago. I thought you should know."

Harry looked over at him for a split second, stood, and left the room without a word.

Draco watched Lupin's entire body slump and the older man sighed, closing his eyes.

It interested him, this hatred Harry had for such an uninteresting man. He pondered fake sympathy for a moment before smirking to himself and saying offhandedly, "He despises you."

Remus looked at him once, mistaking interest for understanding. "Yes, he does."

"It has to do with Black."

Remus shook himself, looking around the state of Potter's new quarters and taking in the piles of books and made bed in the corner. He looked at Draco and politely, if not tightly, smiled. "Good day, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco nodded, trying not to smile as he watched the pathetic excuse for a werewolf leave the pseudo-bedroom/library/living space Potter was squatting in.

He stood and walked around the room, picking up pieces of parchment and flipping through books with titles like: "The Complete Animagus", "The Animagus: Its History and Future", and "So You've Decided to Become an Animagus".

He took out the first book and sat on the bed, searching.