Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Works are not mine. The characters and settings are owned by J. K. Rowling and her respected publishing companies e.g. Bloomsbury.

Rusted From The Rain shall never be mine, and will always be Billy Talent's :)

Summary: Nearly three years after the War ended, Harry can finally live his life the way he wants to. The question is however: will he ever stop being a coward?

Updated on 16th August 2017.


Harry Potter –

The King Of Cowards

Go on crush me like a flower, rusted from the rain

Come on strip me of my power, beat me with your chains

And if I'm the King of Cowards, you're the Queen of Pain

I'm rusted from the rain, I'm rusted from the rain.

Rusted From The Rain – Billy Talent


20th April 2001

The brilliant radiance of the dawning sun illuminated the lark-blue sky with all its might. Wispy, white clouds to float nonchalantly overhead and beautiful golden hues, spread across the horizon where the distant, towering, green treetops finally met the sky. Wherein, the leafy crevices hid delighted, male thrushes and skylarks delightfully crooned - perhaps beatifying the morning more than anything else ever could.

The beauty of the morning was a direct contrast to the morning of one Harry Potter. The twenty-one year-old male, with his untameable onyx hair, stunning emerald eyes and small stature, believed himself the most foolish man to date. His negative state had nothing to do with his poor childhood, unusual teenage years or the terrible trials and tribulations he had faced. No, his foul mood was because of his wife – Ginerva Potter nee Weasley.

To be exact, his wife Ginerva Potter in the arms of another man. An Auror, if we were to be pedantic. The man Harry Potter could never be. Most men would of course be angry if they discovered their wife did not abide by monogamous fidelity of their relationship. For Harry Potter? Not so much. Anger was the wrong word to use – unsurprised was a more accurate one.

'Should've seen it coming,' the he mused, whilst lighting a Muggle cigarette with practised ease and taking a deep, satisfying drag. The noxious properties of the object, relieving the tension which had wormed its way into his chest. From a young age, Ginerva Weasley had held a crush 'more like an unhealthy obsession' on the 'boy-who-lived'.

Her attentions were mostly unwanted by the boy in question, and received with the awkwardness which came to the boy naturally. She wanted a hero, and for the most part, Harry Potter was not one. But on the few occasions which Harry Potter was forced into the role of hero, the girl became even more attracted to the boy.

Harry never felt any form of sexual attraction towards her, but he cared for her deeply. He married her out of obligation for her family, (who had acted as his surrogate family most of his life), and just for the fact that it was easier for him to marry her; it saved him from having to court a lady and 'settle-down' as was expected from their 'Saviour'

So, it was mostly all his fault. If he wanted a happy, stable relationship then he should never have married his wife. He knew, 'heck, everyone knew' she was not a 'one-man' woman, when she was dating Michael Corner she was batting eyes at Blaise Zabini, when she was dating Zacharias Smith she was sleeping with Dean, and when she was dating Seamus she was attempting to get Harry's attention.

For her 'for yourself,' he suppressed his own desires. The burning desires which caused his eyes to flit to the male of the species, but even now the fire hadn't truly burned-out. Which was why, when the man saw his male colleagues getting changed into their robes, he could never help but get a little hot under the collar.

Knowing Ginny's reputation, and seeing it for himself were two separate matters though. Which was why Harry Potter just filed for divorce. The oaths which they both took when they exchanged vows were broken, so the matrimonial paper which contained both their magical signatures was null and void – it only took the solicitor one glance at the paper to believe the Potter.

Harry could, of course, manage somegrim satisfaction with the fact that Ginerva Weasley would not have any of the Potter fortune. Because (unlike the Muggle world) if one partner violated an a matrimonial oath (with fidelity being the first) then the perpetrator received none of the matrimonial assets. Harry only expressed his relief that no children had been born of their relationship.

After his dealings with the solicitor were finalised, and Ginerva was no longer a member of the Potter household, Harry apparated back to the town-house he owned on Harley Street, London. Which was where he was now, hanging out of the bedroom window, cigarette in one hand whilst the other braced the side of the ledge, watching the clouds roll by and waiting for the chaos which would inevitably ensue when his wife and her lover woke.

There was one thing Harry Potter could not fault with his wife 'ex-wife' – her taste in men, because this one, laying haphazardly on his bed was a looker. Tanned, muscular, with a delectable trailing of mahogany-brown hair, which would undoubtedly lead to an impressive… 'Oh, if he wasn't so obviously straight, what I wouldn't give to have him.'

When the sound of lazy kisses, and mumbled words met his ears, Harry violently crushed the stub of his cigarette and flicked the abused dog-end to the street below. On the bed Ginerva busy sucking insistently on the other man's tongue, and Harry allowed a mischievous smirk to grace his features at the opportunity which had just presented itself to him on a silver platter.

"So," he loudly said into the room, victoriously smirking when identical sounds of pain from bitten-tongues reached Harry's ears. "How long has this been going on? From Ginerva I expected no less, but really, Edward, really? I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure having an affair with Harry Potter's wife isn't going to go well with the 'boys' back at the office, considering that I'm mates with both your boss and the Minister," he calmly said, smiling brightly at the sputtering from the couple on the bed.

"Of course, you didn't think of that thought did you? No, all you saw was a moderately pretty lass, who was willing to fuck you any time, any place. But don't worry, she's fair game now, though I would give you a word of advice – don't have too many hopes set out on her, she'll just let you down."

"Listen, mate," Edward started, hurriedly accioing his Auror robes and dressing himself. "I understand that this isn't the nicest things to come home to, but please don't tell my superiors, I'll never touch her again if you want. Urquart'll have my hide, and oh Merlin, my parents they practically worship you since you saved Susie. I'm begging you, please don't tell them."

"Oh, don't worry Edward I won't tell them anything," Harry assured the Auror; pausing just long enough tat the other man let out a sigh of relief. "However, I can't speak on behalf of the press. Gossip like this is just brilliant for the papers, and I cannot guarantee the solicitor's secrecy if a certain sum of money is offered. But I've heard that the Muggles are trying something out, what's it called now? I know, a super-injunction – try one of those out, mate."

"Listen I am sorry, I really am-"

"Try listening to that when someone fucks your wife," Harry dryly returned, which Edward took as a sign to leave. 'Wise man.'

"I wouldn't have to go looking for another man, if you just fucked me yourself!" the flushed, irate woman declared; jumping from the bed to stand before Harry - uncaring about her lack of dress. "I mean we've been together for over three years now, and you haven't even touched me once!"

"Funny." Harry's voice was ice-cold. "I thought it was you who told me that relationships were more than sex. I'm glad to see your true colours Ginerva," Harry stated whilst dearly wishing he hadn't smoked his last cigarette.

"That was three years ago Harry! What was I supposed to do? I've got needs."

"Yes, I have needs as well Ginerva. However unlike you, I did not feel the need to spread my legs for anything that happened to move in my direction. And why would I want to subject my poor penis to your unholy, god-forsaken, infection-ridden orifice?" the raven-haired man paused to catch his breath, before ploughing on, regardless of Ginerva's growing embarrassment and anger. "I've talked to solicitor it's over, and you're getting nothing," he told her, whilst summoning a magically-expanded duffel bag.

"What do you think you're doing!" she screeched, causing Harry to wince from the shrillness of her tone, which was quite reminiscent of his aunt Petunia's. "What do you mean it's over? Why wasn't I informed? And what do you mean I'm going to get nothing? Half of this stuff is mine, I'm owed this-"

"Why?" Harry roared back, he knew that it was unfair of him to be angry at her because of his feelings towards men, but he had tried to get this relationship to work, and this woman was just grating on his already frazzled nerves. "Why are you owed half of my stuff? Tell me! Does sleeping around with other men give you some sort of status that I was unaware of? As soon as you give me a good reason why you deserve half of the Potter fortune for being a selfish little whore, then you can have it!" he bellowed at her, throwing the duffel towards her - much to her displeasure if the scream of rage was to go by.

"I hate you Harry Potter!"

"And I hate you Ginerva Weasley! You're a disgrace of a wife, but an honour of a slag! Now collect your belongings and leave!"

"You're a coward, Harry Potter!" she declared, "You went and killed the most feared wizard of all time, yet didn't become an Auror, what were you? Too scared? Scared that the evil bastards out there would hurt poor 'ickle Harry!"

"Don't take that tone with me!" he demanded, as Ginerva's taunting was disgustingly parallel to Bellatrix Lestrange's. "I may be a so-called 'coward' Ginerva Weasley, but at least I didn't sell myself for fame. Is that why you married me? So you could be the wife of the 'Saviour'? Or was it for my money? Was it for the power you felt, as you went behind by back and betrayed not only me, but yourself and our vows? Did you get a kick out of knowing that I put my all into making this farce of a marriage work?"

The ex-Potter had now gone as red as her atrociously short hair, and was glaring daggers at the man who used to be her husband. "Have you got nothing to say now? No? I'm tired of this Ginny," he murmured wearily, "Now do me a favour and pack."

"No."

"Why are you so obstinate?"

"I've got no clothes on!" she waved a skinny arm down her naked-form.

"That never stopped you from working before," Harry's voice drily declare.d

"Why you-" she attempted to protest, but was caught by the firm on her wrist.

"Goodbye Ginerva." he told her before pushing her onto the bed and apparated away.

"I really need a fag," he muttered, dragging a hand through his bedraggled hair.

It was difficult to keep his eyes open, he had been working around the clock for the past 27 hours with only short naps and energy drinks to keep him going. He was in dire need of a good rest but he knew he had to get to Molly before Ginerva did.


Molly Weasley was used to early risings. After seven children and a busy husband, she had learnt to wake early to meet the needs of her family. Many a woman would have considered this demeaning work, especially if she was proficient with her wand and skilled with her mind, but to Molly Weasely it was the best job around. She could constantly be in contact with her family, keep the house in some sort of chaotic 'order', and ensure that everyone was well-fed.

Since she was used to the early mornings, she was busily frying bacon, knitting a summer cardigan, and cleaning the surfaces when her son-in-law Harry Potter entered the kitchen. Visits weren't unheard of in the Burrow, but it was still unexpected to find the man she had called a son for the past ten years standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Harry!" she greeted happily, bustling over to the boy, and embracing him tightly in a hug, which he quickly returned with vigour. She heard him murmur something akin to 'Hi Molly' into her shoulder, and she could tell that something was bothering her 'son'. So, it stood without reason that she asked him about it, once he was settled at the table with a decent-size mug of tea.

"It's about Ginerva," he finally admitted, after fiddling with the edges of a crumbling custard-cream biscuit, and Molly felt something drop in her chest. 'Oh Merlin, what has she done now?' she moaned, settling a comforting hand on Harry's and soft enquiring eyes on his own saddened yet determined ones.

"What happened dear?"

"Well I had just come back from a late-shift at Mungos," Harry said, easily talking about his career as it was one he genuinely did enjoy. "And I walked into our flat, and went straight to the bedroom because I hadn't any sleep for a day and was really exhausted. So, I walked in, and I could tell something wasn't right. Y'know you can get those feeling sometimes, that something is wrong but you don't know what it is?" he rambled out, and the mother nodded along sadly, she had felt the feeling he was describing when Bill was mauled, and Fred had died.

"But it was so dark so I didn't know what it was, so I cast a lumos and Ginny's lying there naked on our bed next to another man. And it wasn't just any man. It was Edward Somerville; you know the one whose sister was attacked by a rogue Werewolf and had all that spell damage and was really thankful that the team and I managed to remove the virus from her system? It was him. And he's an Auror, and we all know how much Ginny wanted me to be an Auror. She wanted the fame and glory and I don't know... I'm sorry for having to tell you this Molly," he mumbled out, taking a bite from the biscuit just so he didn't say anything else.

"Nonsense Harry, I would have heard of it either way. I'm just so disappointed in Ginerva. To cheat on you so shamelessly," Molly tittered, glaring at the wall wishing it was her daughter.

"But what you don't understand is that most of its my fault, Molly. I didn't marry Ginny because I loved her, I thought I loved her and I tried to love her, but it just wouldn't work. We never you know..." he trailed off, a bright blush staining his cheeks as he snatched another custard cream off the plate and angrily biting into it.

"What do you mean you 'tried' to love her?" Molly questioned, sensing deja vu, from the conversation she had with Charlie many years ago.

"Molly, I think I'm…No, I know I'm gay. But I cared for Ginny, and at the time everyone wanted us to get married, to them it seemed so natural, so I forced my... uh, 'urges' away, and focused on our marriage. I can see now that my feelings for Ginny were completely platonic, but in the midst of all the post-war chaos, and Ginny's insistence I just lost myself," Harry blurted out, hanging his rosy-red face in shame. He didn't want to see the disappointed and angry look upon Molly's face.

"Idiotic boy," she murmured affectionately, gently squeezing his trembling hand. "You shouldn't have had to hide your true self Harry, I would have accepted you the way you are. And you shouldn't have paid any attention to whatever all the Tom, Dick or Harry's out there expected you to do. I am only angry that you caused yourself misery the past three years by pretending to be something that you're not. Ginerva shouldn't have been so obsessed with you anyway, and I regret now that I hadn't nipped that infatuation in the bud when I first saw it, but it seemed so harmless at the time. The Twins told me about her multiple love-lives at Hogwarts, and I admit that I should have had words with her then as well. It is not your all your fault Harry, you tried to keep everyone happy at your own expense, and it didn't work out. Sometimes your foolhardiness is just plain stupid."

"Sorry," he mumbled out, "but I just wanted to be part of your family ever since I was a child, and I just thought that marrying Ginerva would help me firmly become a fixture here."

"Fiddlesticks!" Molly admonished sternly; wrapping the small man in another rough embrace. "You've been my son for years, and I'm sorry that you felt the need to marry Ginerva to know that yourself."

"Sorry," he repeated, clinging onto her tightly. He really loved the Weasleys, and had thought of Molly as his surrogate mother for years, but sometimes the affection she showed him just reminded him of the mother he never had. So, with a light sniff, he untangled himself from her arms and offered a watery grin. "I think the bacon's burning," he laughed out, smiling softly as Molly quickly raced to the smoking pan.

"It's just slightly...crispy," she eventually said, after assessing the damage. "And if we scrape off the slightly darker bits then no-one will be able to tell the difference. Are you staying for breakfast?" she asked, casting a disapproving glance at his thin frame.

"I would love to." he answered, rubbing his face with his palms. "But I really should tell Ron and Hermione the news, before the papers get wind of it. Merlin, that would go down so well."

"Well then it's a good thing that they're both coming around for breakfast then isn't it? They should be here in a couple of minutes, so could you set the table dear?" she asked, posing an intimidating figure with skillet in one hand and wand in the other.

"Y-Yes Molly," he easily agreed, hurrying to the cutlery draw to lay the table.

"And you're coming for dinner tonight," she stated more than questioned, causing the man to grimace, subsequently making her narrow her eyes.

"I-uh, I'm working another late shift," he stuttered out, wanting to please the woman yet knowing he was failing.

"Harry James Potter I will tell you now, that you will not work another late-shift. You are tired off your feet, and will be no use to St. Mungo's like that. Floo them now and tell them that you won't be able to make it, say you're ill or having family problems."

"Molly, I can't do that, they need me there-"

"I'm sure that they've got more Healers that can do your job-" she interrupted with a dismissive voice.

"Molly!" Harry shouted; making the mother stare at the man with a raised eyebrow and the young man flushed brightly. "Molly," he repeated much quieter this time. "I love you dearly, but you're just slightly overbearing sometimes. The fact is that there aren't that many specialised in the area of spell-damage – not after the war anyway, so I am extremely lucky to have such a brilliant Mediwitch to train under. And as I was going to say, this is my last shift of the week; Healer Zabini has given me the next couple of days off."

"Oh fine." the bustling witch acquiesced, and if Harry didn't know better he would say she was pouting. "But you better come here everyday for your meals after tonight."

"Yeah ok Molly, sorry for snapping at you," he said with a relieved sigh.

"No, it was partly my fault, I just can't help but mother you, you're so adorable." the ginger-haired witch admitted. "I don't know how I didn't see you were gay before; it's so obvious."

"Molly!" Harry gasped out, scandalous at the woman who he considered his mother's tone. Luckily her attention was soon focused upon salvaging the smoking breakfast, with a smile resting upon her face as she heard the creak of stairs which could only be her husband

"Harry m'boy, I didn't know you were coming today!" Arthur jovially greeted, moving to kiss his wife on the cheek. "I just passed Ron and Hermione in the hallway, they seem really happy about something, do you know what it is?" he directed at the other two, who shook their heads in return. "Oh well, we'll find out in soon." He quickly settled himself at the table, beaming at Harry before opening the Quibbler which was resting upon the table.

"Mate!" Ron exclaimed, walking into the kitchen whilst fixing the shoulders of his Auror uniform. "How are you?"

"Okay, I guess, you?"

"Brilliant mate!"

"Harry!" the bushy-haired woman squealed when she saw her other best-friend sitting at the table, and wasted no time in crushing him into a hug. "I didn't know you were coming around. Where's Ginny?" she asked with a grin, which faltered when she saw the grim expressions on both Harry and Molly's faces. "What happened?"

"You might want to sit down." he told them seriously, and was glad that they complied with little protestation. "I have divorced Ginerva," he said, watching Arthur's smile slip off his face, Hermione's face to blank, and Ron to grow red.

"Why'd you do that to her!" the youngest male Weasley demanded furiously, "How's she gonna live? She hasn't got a job, and I'm guessing hasn't got a house any more. How could you!" he shouted whilst roughly kicking his chair aside.

"That is enough!" Molly intervened, "As much as it pains me to admit it, Ginny's situation is her entire fault."

"Molly-wobbles!" "Mum!"

"I said that is enough." she repeated in clipped tones, casting a frosty glare at her husband and son. "It is her fault that she never got a job and has no income, not Harry's."

"But still-" Ron weakly said, picking his chair up from the floor, and sinking heavily into it.

"Why did you split with Ginny?" Hermione questioned softly, grasping Harry's hand in her own, much like how Molly did earlier.

"She was cheating on me," the raven-haired man murmured, twirling the fork next to him. "I found her in bed with another man, then watched them kiss and laugh like it was some big joke before they realised I was there."

"I'm sorry, mate," Ron apologised, "I didn't know."

"It's all right, Ron, I'm not blaming you."

"But what else is there?" Hermione asked, squeezing his hand gently as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Damn you for being so perceptive 'Mione," he muttered softly, chuckling weakly at his own words. "I'm gay," he admitted for the second time that day, fear growing inside his stomach as Hermione remained silent, and Ron's sad face morphed into one of horror.

"Y-You don't fancy me do you, mate?" he asked in genuine fear, causing his friend to let out a loud bout of laughter.

"Only you, Ron," he managed to say between his fading laughter. "Oh, promise to never change. No, I don't fancy you."

"Good, because that would have been awkward," the red-haired youth mumbled, before glaring at his wife. "How long have you known?" he demanded of her.

"I guessed when we in sixth-year, when all he would do was stare at Seamus' lips, and Draco Malfoy's arse," she said wryly, laughing delightedly at Harry's blush and Ron's strangled 'Malfoy'

"Seamus has such a nice accent," he mumbled out, burying his face in his hands.

"And Draco?" Hermione pressed, smiling at the raven-haired man's moan of terror. "Well I must admit Draco has got quite a nice-"

"'Mione!" was Ron's outraged reply, "How could you even say that? It's Malfoy!"

"Hush, Ron. Draco has been nothing but a gentleman since the end of the War, hasn't said one bad word about anyone, and is a very diligent worker."

"You're gonna leave me for Malfoy?" Ron asked; his ire reawakening at the thought, which made his wife glare half-heartedly at him, although everyone there could see the amusement in her eyes.

"You're such an idiot, Ronald Weasley," she laughed out, pecking him affectionately on the cheek.

"So is that a no?" the youngest Weasley asked uncertainly.

"Of course it is, dimwit."

"Sorry."

"You better be," she said affectionately. "Anyway why would I leave you for another man, I think that our news would be roof of the opposite."

"Oh yeah." he choked out, flushing red at his wife's words. "This looks amazing mum!" he declared at the hearty full-English breakfast which Molly had just placed in front of him, and immediately dug into it with vigour. Harry met Hermione's amused eyes from above the red-head, and simultaneously rolled them with matching grins.

"Arthur mentioned that you two seemed happy earlier, and you just talked about your news," Molly nonchantly said, shrewdly looking at the pair before her. "Should I start knitting baby booties now or later?" she asked, clapping her son on the back when he started choking on his toast, and smiling benignly at the shocked looks on Harry and Arthur's faces.

"W-why would you think that 'Mione's pregnant?" he stuttered out, with the woman in question nodding along slowly.

"Because, Ronald, I am a mother, and I notice these things. So, I take that as a yes?"

It was Hermione who answered. "Yes. I'm 4 weeks gone now, we just got it confirmed last night."

"You'll be having a winter baby?" Harry enquired, after pulling her into a tight hug. "Because that is really cute, y'know. What?" he demanded when both Molly and Hermione laughed at him. "Oh don't you say how obvious it was that I'm gay." he whined good-naturedly "I'm just excited about my best-friend having a sprog, okay? Totally natural," he declared, smiling at Hermione who was clasping her husband's hand even though he was shovelling food into his mouth with the other.

"'ust, 'eep, 'chelling, 'self, 'at." was what Harry deciphered from Ron's mouth.

"Oh, hush you. 'Mione's the one who guessed I was gay not you."

"Yeah but it's 'Mione," Ron said, after swallowing his previous mouthful; and Harry could swear that Hermione was muttering about the emotional ranges of teaspoons, and idiotic husbands.


It was a short while later, that the two Weasley men left the house together to go to the Ministry. Molly was cleaning the kitchen after adamantly refusing the offered help from both Harry and Hermione, so they wandered in the garden and occasionally threw grain at the chickens bobbing about outside the Burrow. The silence was comfortable, (and much welcomed in Harry's opinion), however if he knew his friend as well as he knew he did, then she would inevitably break it for some answers.

"I couldn't really ask you anything else once Ronald got it into his head that I was leaving him," the witch spoke, amusement evident in her tone as she threw an extra handful of corn at an especially persistent chicken which Harry knew Ron called 'Pot Pie' when Molly and Hermione weren't around. "However, how long have you known you were that way inclined?"

The raven-haired wizard tensed at her words, and instead became interested in seeing how much corn Pot Pie was willing to ingest (quite a lot actually Harry absently noted). He knew he was being a coward, but honestly? He didn't care too much. He had spent his entire youth defending the world against a maniacal wizard – that was enough bravery for a lifetime in Harry's opinion.

"Harry?" she enquired, her gentle tone hardening the longer he spent ignoring her. "I began thinking about it in fifth year," Hermione declared' her hazel eyes were smug with satisfaction at the choking noises Harry created. "I mean even if you did have that supposed 'crush' on Cho Chang it seemed quite forced, as if it was expected of you. Added onto the fact that you described your kiss with her as 'wet', I mean sure if she was crying then it would indeed be wet but for you to describe the entire thing as-"

"Shouldn't you be at work today, Hermione?" Harry interrupted quickly. He grimaced at the frown and glare levelled upon him from the pregnant witch.

"Nice try, Harry, but Draco is covering my shift for a couple of hours, and I'll cover his tomorrow. Are you going to answer me now?"

"No wonder Ron thought you might be cheating on him with Draco if you've mentioned him to Ron as much as you have me," the wizard idly added, smirking slightly at the stunned expression on his best-friend's face, before growing worried at the gleam growing in her eyes.

"Oh Ron has always been oblivious to most things, but you too, Harry?" she questioned softly 'patronisingly' "Draco would never date me-"

"Because you're Muggleborn," he supplied knowingly, an annoyed frown marring his face whilst he did so.

"You're wrong actually," Hermione informed him, eyes sparkling so reminiscent to the late Albus Dumbledore's that Harry actually had to blink a couple of times in shock. "Draco isn't blinded by his childhood prejudices any longer, he treats everyone equally regardless of their status and magical ability."

"I find that difficult to believe," Harry scoffed, but even to him it sounded forced. He focused his emerald orbs upon Pot Pie, as she tottered across the hay-strewn ground intently searching for more corn.

"It's true. I know you haven't really paid much attention to The Quibbler, but Draco has been doing a lot of great work for charities – most notably the O.M.C." Hermione stared incredulously at Harry when he remained impassive. "The Orphaned Muggle Charity, Harry! Honestly, I knew you threw yourself into your Healing career but this is ridiculous! Also, the modified S.P.E.W where Elves are freed from abusive ownerships."

"So he's tamed you on that front then?" Harry smirked teasingly, rubbing his arm when it was hit violently.

"I'm being serious Harry!" Hermione grouched.

"Fine, Draco has done a lot of great work recently and I'm a hermit. I've understood, can we move on now? You mentioned that Draco isn't interested in you, but it's not because he dislikes Muggleborns."

"I said anyone of blood status actually," she corrected, ignoring how Harry rolled his eyes at her. "But essentially yes. Draco isn't interested in me because he's gay. It's quite simple, I can't see why no-one else saw it actually."

'Gay! He's gay, I can't believe it…Well actually I can. He's gay though – he likes men, he could like me…No! That body though, the beautiful blonde hair that shines almost silver in the light, and those arse-cheeks just… Don't think things like that, he can never be mine! He sounds like a great person though. No! If I just talked to him… NO! He probably hates me still, if only-'

"Harry?" Hermione's voice roused said wizard from his thoughts, and he locked his eyes questioningly onto hers. "You can live your life now."

"I – I don't understand what you are talking about 'Mione." the wizard attempted to say but was cut off by his friend.

"You can go after Draco now-"

"I'm not interested in Draco!" he vehemently denied, though his mind was in much disagreement with his mouth.

"Don't insult my intelligence," Hermione immediately replied, glaring full-force at him now. "Ever since we began this conversation you have only referred to him as 'Draco' not 'Malfoy' like you previously did at school. Regardless of that, I think my biggest indicator was you practically stalking him in sixth year."

"I was following him because I thought he was a Death Eater – which he was if you don't remember!" Harry justified, attempting to force down the blush which was threatening to flame up his face. His brown-haired friend increased the intensity of her glare. 'Oh Merlin, I haven't seen that glare since Ron told her that food was the most important thing in his entire life. It was amusing back then, now – not so much.'

"He was pardoned of his crimes," she frigidly told the wizard, "Which you should know about since you were the one who fought tooth and nail to set him free, and do I even need to remind you what a mess you were during that time?" 'Oh Jesus, don't remind me,' he internally groaned, and strangely Hermione understood the impact that comment affected him, so instead dryly added. "Trailing after a suspected Death Eater does not entail gluing ones eyes to said suspect's arse anyway."

Harry couldn't help the blush which did in fact turn his face red this time. "I – Her – Hermione, that doesn't mean anything, I've grown up since then. I've moved on."

"I don't seem to believe that," she murmured, and settler her warm brown eyes on her friend. "Whenever you mentioned his name you smiled to yourself. I haven't seen that smile since we were in first-year. It was so carefree." 'What? I smile at his name? I shouldn't though, I mean he's an ex-Death Eater and I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, I can't do it...But I so want to.' "You can live your life now." she repeated softly.

"What of society Hermione?" he asked her bitterly, sighing in defeat. "They all have expectations of me, they expected me to marry Ginny so I did. They wanted me to become an Auror and when I didn't they blew up in my face! Why can't they leave me alone! They would never allow me to even think of enter a relationship with Draco!"

"You married Ginny out of your own free will, Harry." Hermione stated sternly. "Sure, they wanted you to marry her but they didn't force you to did they? They may have disliked you for becoming a Healer, but the wards you had stopped you from receiving the Howlers and your deal with Luna and other Editors prevented them from printing anything too heinous. Heck, if you give them one interview a year then they promised not to print anything bad about you!"

"That's beside the point Hermione! Being a Healer and dating Draco are completely different things. If I date him then they'll attack him too, they'll say that I've been cursed and they won't let him live peacefully no matter how much he has done for the world. The fact is they'll never let their precious Saviour date Draco Malfoy." He passionately cried, hands searching through his raven locks.

"You can live your life the way you want to Harry! Ignore the papers, ignore your fans, ignore everyone else. You are the one who are preventing yourself form your happiness, not society. Stop blaming everyone else, and get your head out of your butt!"

"They'll accuse him despite that though, and he shouldn't have to go through anything terrible ever again, not after Lucius." 'Oh Circe, his eyes when the news reached him, and what the moronic prophet were spewing. I can't let him face that again.'

His eyes must have portrayed his pain, for Hermione merely smiled at the wizard, which offered little comfort for the man. "But you admit that you do have feelings for him?" she asked, and Harry inwardly groaned. "Of course you do, my instincts on these things are rarely wrong. You can be happy Harry, just stop being a coward," she told him, dusting some cat-fur from her beige-robes whilst she did so, and Harry was quite sure that he heard her quietly say "Now, if only I can convince him."

'He'll never feel the same,' his inner voice reasoned, even though it caused the pain which he had grown familiar with over the years, to flare into being once more. 'What if he did feel the same though? What if I had a chance with him? From what Hermione said it could be possible… You can't know that! What's the point with getting excited over it? It will only disappoint me in the end, I can never be with him.'

Harry turned to ask Hermione what exactly she meant with her last comment, but she wasn't there any longer. Unfortunately for Harry though, his hopes for a future with Draco Malfoy seemed adamant to stay.

It was a short while later, that the two Weasley men left the house together to go to the Ministry. Molly was cleaning the kitchen after adamantly refusing the offered help from both Harry and Hermione, so they wandered in the garden and occasionally threw grain at the chickens bobbing about outside the Burrow. The silence was comfortable, (and much welcomed in Harry's opinion), however if he knew his friend as well as he knew he did, then she would inevitably break it for some answers.

"I couldn't really ask you anything else once Ronald got it into his head that I was leaving him," the witch spoke, amusement evident in her tone as she threw an extra handful of corn at an especially persistent chicken which Harry knew Ron called 'Pot Pie' when Molly and Hermione weren't around. "However, how long have you known you were that way inclined?"

The raven-haired wizard tensed at her words, and instead became interested in seeing how much corn Pot Pie was willing to ingest (quite a lot actually Harry absently noted). He knew he was being a coward, but honestly? He didn't care too much. He had spent his entire youth defending the world against a maniacal wizard – that was enough bravery for a lifetime in Harry's opinion.

"Harry?" she enquired, her gentle tone hardening the longer he spent ignoring her. "I began thinking about it in fifth year," Hermione declared' her hazel eyes were smug with satisfaction at the choking noises Harry created. "I mean even if you did have that supposed 'crush' on Cho Chang it seemed quite forced, as if it was expected of you. Added onto the fact that you described your kiss with her as 'wet', I mean sure if she was crying then it would indeed be wet but for you to describe the entire thing as-"

"Shouldn't you be at work today, Hermione?" Harry interrupted quickly. He grimaced at the frown and glare levelled upon him from the pregnant witch.

"Nice try, Harry, but Draco is covering my shift for a couple of hours, and I'll cover his tomorrow. Are you going to answer me now?"

"No wonder Ron thought you might be cheating on him with Draco if you've mentioned him to Ron as much as you have me," the wizard idly added, smirking slightly at the stunned expression on his best-friend's face, before growing worried at the gleam growing in her eyes.

"Oh Ron has always been oblivious to most things, but you too, Harry?" she questioned softly 'patronisingly' "Draco would never date me-"

"Because you're Muggleborn," he supplied knowingly, an annoyed frown marring his face whilst he did so.

"You're wrong actually," Hermione informed him, eyes sparkling so reminiscent to the late Albus Dumbledore's that Harry actually had to blink a couple of times in shock. "Draco isn't blinded by his childhood prejudices any longer, he treats everyone equally regardless of their status and magical ability."

"I find that difficult to believe," Harry scoffed, but even to him it sounded forced. He focused his emerald orbs upon Pot Pie, as she tottered across the hay-strewn ground intently searching for more corn.

"It's true. I know you haven't really paid much attention to The Quibbler, but Draco has been doing a lot of great work for charities – most notably the O.M.C." Hermione stared incredulously at Harry when he remained impassive. "The Orphaned Muggle Charity, Harry! Honestly, I knew you threw yourself into your Healing career but this is ridiculous! Also, the modified S.P.E.W where Elves are freed from abusive ownerships."

"So he's tamed you on that front then?" Harry smirked teasingly, rubbing his arm when it was hit violently.

"I'm being serious Harry!" Hermione grouched.

"Fine, Draco has done a lot of great work recently and I'm a hermit. I've understood, can we move on now? You mentioned that Draco isn't interested in you, but it's not because he dislikes Muggleborns."

"I said anyone of blood status actually," she corrected, ignoring how Harry rolled his eyes at her. "But essentially yes. Draco isn't interested in me because he's gay. It's quite simple, I can't see why no-one else saw it actually."

'Gay! He's gay, I can't believe it…Well actually I can. He's gay though – he likes men, he could like me…No! That body though, the beautiful blonde hair that shines almost silver in the light, and those arse-cheeks just… Don't think things like that, he can never be mine! He sounds like a great person though. No! If I just talked to him… NO! He probably hates me still, if only-'

"Harry?" Hermione's voice roused said wizard from his thoughts, and he locked his eyes questioningly onto hers. "You can live your life now."

"I – I don't understand what you are talking about 'Mione." the wizard attempted to say but was cut off by his friend.

"You can go after Draco now-"

"I'm not interested in Draco!" he vehemently denied, though his mind was in much disagreement with his mouth.

"Don't insult my intelligence," Hermione immediately replied, glaring full-force at him now. "Ever since we began this conversation you have only referred to him as 'Draco' not 'Malfoy' like you previously did at school. Regardless of that, I think my biggest indicator was you practically stalking him in sixth year."

"I was following him because I thought he was a Death Eater – which he was if you don't remember!" Harry justified, attempting to force down the blush which was threatening to flame up his face. His brown-haired friend increased the intensity of her glare. 'Oh Merlin, I haven't seen that glare since Ron told her that food was the most important thing in his entire life. It was amusing back then, now – not so much.'

"He was pardoned of his crimes," she frigidly told the wizard, "Which you should know about since you were the one who fought tooth and nail to set him free, and do I even need to remind you what a mess you were during that time?" 'Oh Jesus, don't remind me,' he internally groaned, and strangely Hermione understood the impact that comment affected him, so instead dryly added. "Trailing after a suspected Death Eater does not entail gluing ones eyes to said suspect's arse anyway."

Harry couldn't help the blush which did in fact turn his face red this time. "I – Her – Hermione, that doesn't mean anything, I've grown up since then. I've moved on."

"I don't seem to believe that," she murmured, and settler her warm brown eyes on her friend. "Whenever you mentioned his name you smiled to yourself. I haven't seen that smile since we were in first-year. It was so carefree." 'What? I smile at his name? I shouldn't though, I mean he's an ex-Death Eater and I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, I can't do it...But I so want to.' "You can live your life now." she repeated softly.

"What of society Hermione?" he asked her bitterly, sighing in defeat. "They all have expectations of me, they expected me to marry Ginny so I did. They wanted me to become an Auror and when I didn't they blew up in my face! Why can't they leave me alone! They would never allow me to even think of enter a relationship with Draco!"

"You married Ginny out of your own free will, Harry." Hermione stated sternly. "Sure, they wanted you to marry her but they didn't force you to did they? They may have disliked you for becoming a Healer, but the wards you had stopped you from receiving the Howlers and your deal with Luna and other Editors prevented them from printing anything too heinous. Heck, if you give them one interview a year then they promised not to print anything bad about you!"

"That's beside the point Hermione! Being a Healer and dating Draco are completely different things. If I date him then they'll attack him too, they'll say that I've been cursed and they won't let him live peacefully no matter how much he has done for the world. The fact is they'll never let their precious Saviour date Draco Malfoy." He passionately cried, hands searching through his raven locks.

"You can live your life the way you want to Harry! Ignore the papers, ignore your fans, ignore everyone else. You are the one who are preventing yourself form your happiness, not society. Stop blaming everyone else, and get your head out of your butt!"

"They'll accuse him despite that though, and he shouldn't have to go through anything terrible ever again, not after Lucius." 'Oh Circe, his eyes when the news reached him, and what the moronic prophet were spewing. I can't let him face that again.'

His eyes must have portrayed his pain, for Hermione merely smiled at the wizard, which offered little comfort for the man. "But you admit that you do have feelings for him?" she asked, and Harry inwardly groaned. "Of course you do, my instincts on these things are rarely wrong. You can be happy Harry, just stop being a coward," she told him, dusting some cat-fur from her beige-robes whilst she did so, and Harry was quite sure that he heard her quietly say "Now, if only I can convince him."

'He'll never feel the same,' his inner voice reasoned, even though it caused the pain which he had grown familiar with over the years, to flare into being once more. 'What if he did feel the same though? What if I had a chance with him? From what Hermione said it could be possible… You can't know that! What's the point with getting excited over it? It will only disappoint me in the end, I can never be with him.'

Harry turned to ask Hermione what exactly she meant with her last comment, but she wasn't there any longer. Unfortunately for Harry though, his hopes for a future with Draco Malfoy seemed adamant to stay.