Title: Senses

Disclaimer: I am only writing for fun. Absolutely no profit involved, cross my heart.

Pairings: Harry/Draco

Summary: All it took him to learn how to dream was a glimpse of blonde hair and an enigmatic smile.

Author's notes: Please enjoy and please, please drop me a few reviews as well.

Senses:

Sense of smell:

When I had gone to bed that night, though there were obscure feelings of general unhappiness, I had been content. I had been at peace after so long a time that I couldn't remember when the last time was that I was so relaxed, so calm. I remember waking to the smell of good food.

"Harry, love;" Ginny had called from the kitchen. "I'm making you breakfast."

And any and every good feeling I had; had flown right out of the proverbial window. I remember feeling like someone had slugged me good and hard across my head. When I got out of bed, my movements were shaky and my legs just wouldn't support me. My vision blurred, even as I placed my glasses on my nose, because, suddenly, they were filled with tears. I sunk to the ground, my head between my knees. My magic prickled and boiled beneath my skin, asking, begging for a release and I had held on with everything that I had.

What had I done?

"Harry?" Ginny pushed open the door to his bedroom, gently, trying not jolt him awake if he was still asleep. She paused at the doorway, letting her eyes adjust to still dark room. "Harry?" she called again, softly. The slow sound of heavy breathing reached her ears and her eyes moved automatically to the figure hunched on the carpet close to the bed. She crossed the room and dropped to her knees by him. "Harry?" She took his shaking shoulder in a gentle grip. "Did you have a nightmare, love?" He shook his head, fervently.

"Harry, talk to me." Ginny said, a bit afraid now. Harry shook his head again, his eyes glassy, whole frame trembling. "Leave." He croaked, his eyes wild. "Leave now, Ginny, please." She stood, aware now of the power of the raw magic humming beneath Harry's skin threatening to rage beyond his control. She tried to be brave. "No, Harry, I'm here." She was trembling herself. "Talk to me."

Harry gritted his teeth, his eyes clenched shut. "Get the fuck out, idiot." He bit out. A wild wind blew threw the room and dissolved just as quickly as it had started. The glass dome of the little night light on the bedside table broke with a loud crack and the glass pieces vibrated in the air for a still moment before flying towards Ginny. She had frozen; her eyes wild. Just before the sliver of glass made contact with her skin, a shield appeared before her. Harry was standing; his eyes open wide, a trace of fear in them- fear for her, she realized- his hands outstretched, teeth clenched. "Go, Ginny." He snarled, the magic flowing through him making his voice feral. His eyes glowed eerily. Ginny turned and fled the room.

The world came crashing down around Harry.

I hadn't lost control of my magic like that since the final battle when I had absorbed some of Voldemort's power. It had scared me the intensity of emotions that Draco could bring out in me. I had had a perfectly well-built, structured life. I was employed where I had wanted to be since I knew who Aurors were and what they did. I had a surrogate family whom I coveted and had expectations of me that I had to fulfill. I was going to get married in a few months.

I wasn't going to give all that up just because my heart wanted the unattainable. Throwing all that away would have been just foolish and going against everything in me that preferred the safe and the comfortable.

"He doesn't let anybody see him, Draco. He doesn't answer his floos either. Andromeda flooed this morning. She seemed worried for Harry as well. She told me that he looked extremely pale and withdrawn, as if he wasn't sleeping well." Hermione bit her lip, frustrated and worried. "Ginny told me that he lost control of his magic two days ago. That hasn't happened in a very long time." She glanced up at him again. "I'm worried for him."

Draco frowned.

"Will you try talking to him?" Hermione asked him, quietly. "I don't really know if this is asking too much of you, but…" She paused, unsure. Draco was still frowning. "Sure, I'll try, immediately, I promise, 'Mione." He assured. "Stay calm, okay?" He smiled, a small dimple appearing at the corner of his mouth and cancelled the floo call.

Hermione sat back, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and feeling scared.

I kept the floo closed and the only place I had visited those two days of my self-imposed isolation was the children's ward at St. Mungo's. Teddy was just having Werewolf Withdrawal Syndrome, as the Healers put it. Though Remus had been a werewolf, Teddy did not exhibit signs of becoming a werewolf himself as he had not been bitten, but he did have dormant wolf genes that became erratic during the times of the full-moon. It was, of course, no threat to his or anyone's lives, but he could not be cured nonetheless. Happy that her grandson was in no life-threatening danger, Andy had collected Teddy's potions and portkeyed him back to France the very next day.

Satisfied at that outcome, at least, I had come back to Grimmauld Place and sealed myself inside.

"Simply Harry! Hey, where are you, prat?" Draco hollered at the floo. Harry ignored the call, feeling a nasty prick of guilt. "Harry?" Draco yelled again. He had to keep Draco away from him, lest he do something stupid and potentially and exponentially disastrous. He called for Kreacher. "What is Kreacher being doing for Master Potter?"

Harry rubbed his eyes. "Tell Draco I'm not home." He bid. Kreacher frowned disapprovingly. "Master Malfoy call for Master Potter because he is being concerned." The elf explained. "Why is Master Potter being nasty to him?" Harry glared. "How come you have no problem asking Ginny to get lost?" The question was purely rhetorical. The elf popped out, his disapproval hanging heavy in the air. Harry sighed and sat heavily down on the bed.

"Harry, I know you're here." Draco bellowed. "Why won't you come to the floo?" Kreacher popped back in and stared mock-sadly at Harry. "Master Malfoy is not being believing Kreacher." He informed. Harry growled, frustrated. "Why are you doing this, you jerk?" Draco called, his voice angry. "Everyone is really worried about you." Harry stalked downstairs, unceremoniously.

"What do you want?" He snapped at the head floating in the flames.

Draco's glare softened. "Harry, love, tell me what's wrong." He said, coaxingly. Harry blushed to the roots of his hair and his heart leapt in his chest. Tired of fighting his emotions all the time, he collapsed cross-legged on the carpet before the hearth. "Just talk to me, Draco." He said, jadedly. "Just…just tell me something, anything." Draco sighed. "Before I do that, I want to know if you're okay, Harry. Just smile once for me, honestly, and I won't ask you what's troubling you again, deal?" He smiled softly at Harry.

Harry's entire body tensed with the desire to hug Draco to him, yet he smiled, it was an effortless thing for him to do when Draco was around. His smile was easy and pleasant and his eyes lit up with warmth. Draco's smile widened. "See, now was that so hard, Simply Harry?" Harry shook his head, feeling oppressed. Draco began speaking, laughingly, of Skeeter's latest article in the Daily Prophet about the rising prices of Madame Crenshaw's beauty potions, his dry wit peeking through and making Harry shake with mirth in intervals. Every once in a while, aching with the need to simply hold the blonde close to him, Harry smiled and smiled and smiled.

I still dreamt of Draco, only now, he was never in any negative role. On the days that I was too tired to actively censor my dreams, I saw a little boy with midnight black hair and gunmetal-grey eyes. He was always smiling, always happy. I wondered, often who the boy was; I had never seen a child as beautiful as him my entire life.

It was increasingly hard, not to run into Draco. My feet led me to his side whenever I was aware that he was in the vicinity. And he never made it any harder for me to love him. Every time I left his side, I was so sure that I couldn't possibly love him anymore and when I saw him the next time, I fell more madly in love with him. I loved him for his imperfections and nothing was going to change that because I had, already, seen him at his lowest.

I sometimes wondered since, fighting my attraction for him was almost impossible, why not just give up and let go? And then I answered myself, I had way too much to lose.

"Harry, you're coming out with me, now."

Harry shook his head, staring resolutely at the television screen. Ginny scowled. "Why the hell are you like this, you git?" The pitch of her voice was driving Harry up the wall. She had been talking about things that Harry didn't even care about for the last hour or so. "Ginny, just, just go, okay?" He jabbed his finger at the kitchen. "Let me be for awhile." He said, his voice dull.

Ginny walked into the kitchen, an ugly frown marring her otherwise quietly pretty face. The floo flared to life. "Harry?" Draco yelled, startling Ginny almost out of her skin. He paused when he noticed her. "Weasley." He nodded, almost civilly. Ginny glowered at him. "What do you want, Malfoy?" "A little trouble in paradise, perhaps?" He mocked, his smile turning hostile. "It's none of your business, you bastard." She snarled. "Get out of our lives."

Harry walked in, frowning

"What- ?" He stopped short when he saw Draco's head in the flames. "Draco?" His heart leapt in his chest and he couldn't help the slow, happy smile that bloomed across his lips. "Hi. What's going on?" Draco smiled back, soft and secretive. "Just wanted to see you, prat." Harry's eyes shone behind the round frames. Ginny's voice was low and angry when she spoke, her eyes lit with a feral light; interrupting them. "Do you want me to leave the room and give you some privacy?"

Harry turned quickly to face her, almost guiltily, his eyes apologetic.

Draco's reaction was rather strange. His smile grew dangerous, an untamed, wild edge to it. His teeth glinted. His eyes were smouldering when they turned to Harry. "Please, Weaslette, if you would be so kind." He drawled, his voice hoarser than usual, more predatory. "I'd like a moment with Harry. Alone." Harry snapped his head back to Draco's when he spoke, his eyes widening, his heart rate accelerating.

"You can talk and laugh time with him…" Ginny said, her voice rising, uncensored and Harry flinched, turning back to look at her. "And you have qualms about spending time with me?" She was shaking, her eyes blazing like an inferno. "He's my friend, Gin." Harry said, desperately. She shook her head, her hand reaching for her wand. Harry narrowed his eyes at her, warningly, and her hands twitched. Dropping them to her side unceremoniously, she turned and stormed out of the room, cursing fluently, her voice reaching Harry and Draco in the kitchen. The front door slammed shut, the bang echoing around the huge house. Harry winced.

A tense silence descended over the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I was only joking." Draco said, into the silence, his voice back to its normal lilting pitch, though drenched in guilt. Harry shook his head, blindly and left the room, Draco's voice calling after him, almost pleadingly.

There had to be some way that I could, maybe, push him into staying away from me. But, I didn't want to. Just being near him in any capacity made me rather happy, if you don't count the aching, pressing need to just hold him. Ginny was aware now, if not of the intensity of my feelings for him, then at least that I considered him an irreplaceable part of my life. And that made it all the more difficult to hide, to keep it a secret from him. She grew more bitter, though, and threw herself ardently into keeping me away from him as much as possible.

I remember Draco having rather a nasty run-in with Ginny the next day.

Ginny leaned against Harry, almost droopily. Ron and Hermione sat across from them, Hermione squinting rather angrily at Ginny's prone form and Ron gravitated between feeling bad for his sister because this was obviously not going her way and feeling bad for Harry because this was, again obviously, not going his way, either. Harry's eyes were shut, like he was trying to block out the whole world, like he was trying to give 'out of sight, out of mind' a whole new meaning.

A knock on the door abruptly shattered the tense silence in the room.

Ron stood, his entire frame stiffening. He glanced at Hermione. When they had invited Draco to dinner, they hadn't accounted for Ginny tagging along with Harry. Hermione stood as well and her lips tightened into a straight line when Ginny stirred and Harry opened his eyes, questioningly. "It's Draco." She announced, tersely. Her tone was warning when she spoke to Ginny. "Behave." She directed and went to open the door.

Ginny's eyes sharpened, her muscles pulling taut in tension. She took a deep breath and settled more comfortably against Harry, her arms winding around his lean frame; her face resting against his neck. Harry squirmed, uncomfortable, feeling strangely like he was cheating on Draco, because clearly he was with Ginny and it was more conventional to feel the other way around.

Then he relaxed, an ironic smile twisting at his lips. He had never been too conventional, had he?

Draco walked into the hall after Hermione, a calm smile on his face. His eyes slid over Harry and Ginny and his eyes flickered in distaste briefly. Then he bowed his head, slightly. "Harry, hey. Weasley, it's a…" He paused, as if seeking a word. "…pleasure." He completed, sounding too sincere to be true. His smile was so obviously put-on and Ron turned his head to hide a grin. "Come to the kitchen with me." Hermione said, her fingers curling, almost protectively around Draco's arm. Smiling genuinely at her, he turned his back to the couple on the couch. "Anything for you, doll." He drawled, teasingly. Swatting at his arm, grinning, she led him away, telling him about the potion she was researching.

"Why is he here, Ron?" Ginny snapped at her brother when Ron sat back down. "He is my friend, Ginny and one of 'Mione's as well." Ron glared pointedly at Harry. "And one of Harry's too, if I'm not very much mistaken, and I'm sure I'm not." He swung his eyes back at Ginny when Harry did not speak. "So, if we want him here, he has every right to be here and we don't need your permission to want him in our house."

Ginny stood, abruptly.

"If that's how you want it…" Her voice was pitched low, almost snarling. Harry stood as well, holding his hand out to Ginny, his eyes flashing with a warning light. Ron remained seated, observing calmly. "Leave him be, Ginny." Harry snapped. "What have you got against him?" Ginny turned to Harry, incredulously. "What have I…? Harry, how can you possibly ask me such a question?" Harry stared back, unmoved.

"After all his father's done..." She ranted. "He is not his father, Ginny." Harry interrupted, firmly. "But he…" Draco walked in with the salad bowl, Hermione following with the smaller bowls and forks. "Everything okay in here?" He asked, lightly, his eyes glinting with some obscure emotion. Ginny whirled to face him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Go back to where you came from, you Death Eater." She howled, her voice rising dangerously. Hermione's and Ron's simultaneous cries of 'Ginny!' went unheard. "Nobody wants you here." She snapped, her wand pulled out. "You're nothing but a burden."

Draco stood frozen, the salad bowl still in his arms. A jet of red light came flying at him as Ginny called out an incantation and bounced harmlessly off Harry's shield at the last moment. Harry moved to stand in front of Draco, his own wand out and glared menacingly at Ginny. "Go home, Ginny." His voice was cold, his eyes expressionless. "Go home before your own brother kicks you out of his house for insulting his guest and his friend." He snarled when she did not move.

Draco sighed and laid his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry leaned unconsciously into him as the fresh, seductive scent of pine and thyme assaulted his senses and turned his knees to jelly. He took a step back, into Draco. "It's alright, Harry." He moved back, taking his arm and the scent with him and Harry resisted the urge to groan. Draco put the salad bowl in Hermione's arms. "I think I've overstayed my welcome." He smiled, sadly at Ron and clapped him on his back. "Catch you later mate." He said, almost hopefully and left, grabbing his coat and shutting the door behind him.

Hermione turned to Ginny, furious. "Ginerva Weasley." She snarled, her lips pulled back. "If you cannot be civil to my friend inside my house, then you've pretty much overstayed your welcome too." Ginny glanced to Ron, pleadingly. Ron put his arms around his wife and stood his ground. Her eyes turned cold. She turned to Harry. "Are you coming, Harry?" she asked him. He shook his head. "Go on ahead. I'll join you in a few." He replied, rubbing at his forehead, thinking longingly of Firewhiskey. Turning tail, she flooed out, without so much as a 'goodbye' to her brother and sister-in-law.

Harry turned to Hermione, his eyes apologetic, heart heavy. "I'm so sorry 'Mione." Hermione glanced back, stonily. "It's not us you need to apologize to, Harry." Sighing, with a soft 'catch you guys, later', Harry flooed out as well.

That night, Ginny was unbearable to be around.

She drove me barmy with her constant sullying of Draco's name, his character, his ancestral history, and when she had burned herself out and flooed home, I wondered if anyone in the Malfoy family had been spared.

I didn't speak to Draco till he came to see me a few days later.

Draco knocked on the door and waited, frowning. A few minutes later, Harry pulled the door open. "What?" He barked. Draco glared. "Let me in, Harry." He said, keeping a foot wedged in the door in case Harry decided to shut it on his face. But apparently, Harry was in a better mood than he had been and he stood back and let Draco in. "Who put a stick up your ass?" Draco teased, trying for casual. Harry sneered at him. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He retorted meanly and walked into the kitchen.

Taken aback, Draco followed him with his eyes.

"You going to stand there under my staircase all day, Malfoy?" Harry called from the kitchen. Draco shuffled into the kitchen and sat at the dining table. Harry was apparently cooking, leaning over a bubbling pot, his back turned to Draco. "I'm very sorry about the thing with Weaslette, er, Ginny." He asked Harry, quietly, after a pause. Harry's heart jumped and he turned. He ran his eyes over Draco's silver-blonde hair- a wayward bang curling over his forehead-; his gunmetal grey eyes- filled with hurt- his straight aristocratic nose and his soft pouty lips longingly. He took a step forward, and then turned away abruptly, trying to reign in the sheer want that coursed through him.

He sighed. "No, Malfoy, not your fault or anything; things have been rather tense between us lately." Draco slid slowly off the chair and made his way to where Harry stood. "Do, you forgive me, then?" Draco whispered. Harry turned, with a slight smile. "Nothing to forgive, of course, Malfoy." He said, reassuringly and then turned back to the pot. "Then how come we're back to last names, Harry?" His body was warm behind Harry's and Harry felt slightly light-headed. He took a deep breath to keep from blacking out. The scent of fresh thyme and pine after a refreshing rain assaulted his senses and for a moment Harry's world went black. He wondered if he would pass out and embarrass himself.

"Draco…" He whispered. "Right here, Harry." Draco mumbled against his ear, his lips skimming his earlobe, his chest flush against Harry's back. Harry's hands trembled on the spatula. "Draco…" He said again almost desperately as Draco's arms wound around his torso. "Here, Harry." Draco repeated, his teeth tugging a bit at Harry's earlobe and his tongue tracing the sensitive shell of his ear. Harry drew in a shaky breath. God, the scent was maddening. Why had he not noticed it before? "Draco…"He breathed, his voice reverent like he was saying like a prayer.

"I'm right here, Harry, what are you doing?" Harry turned, his cheeks flushing. Draco was leaning against his counter, lips pulled into a little smirk; far away from him, but not far away enough for Harry to disregard the slyly seductive scent of thyme and pine. Harry glared at him. "What?" He snapped, mortified. Draco shook his head, his eyes shining, trying not to laugh. Harry hoped he hadn't figured out what had been going through his head.

"I asked you how come we're back on last names." Draco said, suddenly serious, not moving, watching Harry, his eyes hooded. "We're not." Harry mumbled, absently. "We can never be again." Draco frowned, confused. "What kind of a cryptic statement is that?" Harry flushed. "Never mind." He said. "No, tell me." Draco moved closer. "What is wrong with you?" Harry took a few steps back, hoping his heart didn't show in his eyes. "Don't Draco, please. Drop it." He pleaded, his eyes straying to Draco's outstretched hands.

Draco noticed the movement and stopped, stock still.

He smiled, a twisted and ugly smile, one devoid of all mirth. He smiled the same smile he had smiled when Harry had expressed his condolences at his mother's funeral. Unexpectedly, Harry's insides turned to ice. Draco pulled up the sleeve of his left hand, roughly. "Is this what's holding you back from being completely open with me, Potter? You feel like your fiancée too, is that right?" He asked Harry coldly. The dark mark stood out like a beacon of light over the dark sea, marring Draco's alabaster skin; which strangely did not look any less perfect to Harry even with the stamp of evil magic on it. Harry stood, frozen. The thought had not even crossed his mind.

Draco took a few steps back. "What would the world think of their savior, consorting with Death Eater scum?" He said, his face blank. "Is that what's worrying you, Potter?" Draco had his back to the wall and Harry stood very still and very quiet because Draco sounded so hurt and all Harry wanted to do was take him in his arms and kiss him till he erased the last few minutes completely from the idiot's mind. But that was a dangerous thing to want where the blonde was concerned. So Harry did not move.

Draco stepped into the floo. "The game is in a week, Potter." He said, almost consolingly. "After that, you'll never see me again." Eyes swimming with hurt as he made that promise, he flooed out, leaving Harry feeling devoid of all warmth and numb. He sunk to the floor of the kitchen; he was so bone-achingly tired.

I had been so out of it, worn, tired and all my defenses were weak and rundown; almost obliterated. All I wanted to do was kiss Draco till the both couldn't even remember our names anymore, have some mind-blowing sex; because it was obviously going to be mind-blowing, have you seen Draco Malfoy?- and then curl up in his arms and sleep forever.

But we are not always going to get what we want, right? Life is not a bed of roses. And let's face the facts, this is me. When do I ever get what I want? So I tried to move on with the normal- read: boring- life I had been living before Draco flew into it. Literally.

She pulled away, almost glowing happily. "I'll come over tonight?" she whispered, almost giddily. Harry smiled, rather pathetically. "Sure. I'll keep the floo open for you." Ginny waved and walked into the ministry building. Hermione shook her head. "I swear to freaking Merlin, I'm surrounded by idiots." Hermione and Harry made their way towards the Leaky Cauldron for a late lunch. "Harry, talk to Draco, love, I can see that it's killing you." She threw her hands up. "Anyone can see that it's killing you."

"What do you know, Hermione?" Harry asked her, his voice low, angry. She glanced at him, surprised. She opened her mouth to answer, but Harry interrupted, "No, seriously, 'Mione, what do you know?"

"How can you possibly understand how I sleep to thoughts of him, dream of him and wake up to thoughts of him? How you possibly comprehend that I imagine pale blonde hair in my hands every time I have my hand through Ginny's? Or how every time I hear the floo flare I run to the kitchen tripping over my feet hoping that it's him? Or maybe how every time I pass the stadium, I stop and listen for his voice? Fuck, how my heart aches like it's dying every time I think about him, which is almost every moment of every day?

Hermione smiled, suddenly. Harry's eyes were glowing with tears. "Harry love, people can fall in and out of love many many times in a single life-time." She told him, moving to hug him. "But growing to hold someone as precious to you as you hold Draco, it happens just once. Don't let him go, Harry, please." Harry shook his head against Hermione's shoulder. "I can't, 'Mione, Ginny and the Weasleys…I can't let them down." He pulled away from her and walked into the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione expelled her breath on a curse. "Oh, for the love of…" She followed him into the restaurant.

And stopped short, crashing into Harry; who had stopped as if shot, his eyes locked on the blonde and his companion in the bar on the first floor; through the banisters, leaning on which they stood their backs to Harry and Hermione. The first floor had of course been added after The Cauldron had been renovated after the war. Draco was laughing, his head thrown back. "Hang on, are you serious?" He asked, still chuckling slightly. The man with him clapped his hand over his shoulder and they both came down the staircase side by side, the man regaling Draco with the continuation of whatever tale had been so humorous.

Harry ducked under a beam, pulling Hermione with him as they came closer and held her to him for some sort of comfort when his heart clenched as Draco and his companion passed and the scent of thyme and pine glided and curled around Harry. Harry took in a deep breath and shuddered under Hermione's bracing hand. "Hermione…" Harry keened, as if he was in physical pain. Hermione's eyes watered, she hurt for her friend. "Go to him, Harry." She urged. "If it hurts you that much to be away from him, go to him."

He shook his head, his teeth clenched, the scent driving him barmy.

"Let's sit." He nodded at the table farthest away from the beam. Hermione agreed quickly and followed his shaky steps to the table. She took his hand in hers as he collapsed into the seat and once again took a deep breath. He smiled humorlessly when he inhaled the subtle nuances of Draco's scent again. Was he some kind of masochist or what? Did he like punishing himself? It was something to think about….

It was torture, not seeing him, not hearing his voice; not having his arms around me in that unassuming way of his. I missed everything about him so terribly that I wondered how I had ever survived without him in my life.

The strange thing was I missed the silliest things about him; things that I wouldn't have even noticed with other people. I missed the way that single strand of hair would stand up straight on his head, despite his numerous unconscious efforts to flatten it. I missed the way his eyes crinkled in the corner when he was genuinely amused or the light modest smile he would flash when someone commented on his seeking skills.

I missed the way the sun reflected off his hair, making it glow like a halo around his head and the way he laughed, head thrown back and pearly whites on display when I teasingly mentioned it. I missed the small dimple that would appear at the corner of his mouth when he smiled reassuringly and the way his eyebrows scrunched when he got annoyed every time his wand hostler slipped a few inches down his arm. I missed, horribly, the way he said, "Simply Harry" like that was all I was to him, like me being the boy-who-lived had absolutely nothing to do with why he liked me, like he liked me for me.

It just wasn't sane, feeling like that about someone I had known, for all means and purposes for a few weeks.

Harry leaned on the picket fence wrapping his arms around himself to quell the cold. Though it was chilly, the night was clear and crisp. The smell of the fresh, dewy thyme plants floated all around him and he smiled, painfully, remembering Draco and his favorite dimply smile. There was not a cloud in the sky and since Ottery St. Catchpole was as far away from any muggle civilization as one could get, there was a clear, pollution free view of the sky. The stars glowed like embers in a kindling fire and crickets chirped all around. It was a pleasant night.

"Harry." Harry turned and offered the man standing in the threshold to the Burrow a warm smile. "Mr. Weasley." "Can I join you?" The man was smiling, fondly. Harry laughed slightly, gesturing forward. "Yes, of course, sir, you don't have to ask." The Weasley patriarch walked over to Harry's side and leaned on the fence beside him. Harry took a deep breath again, aching for the blonde's presence. "You know, before Molly, I was engaged to a friend of mine whom I had known since infancy." Arthur said, startling Harry out of his reverie.

Harry turned to look at him; Arthur was gazing nostalgically into the air, a slightly sad smile on his face. "Yeah? What happened to her?" Harry asked, curiously, wondering why the man was sharing this with him. They had never been very close. Arthur turned to look at Harry. "You see, my boy, it was an arranged situation, a convenience of sorts." He paused, allowing it to sink in. "And though the girl loved me, all I felt for her was the sisterly affection one would feel for a childhood friend, the sort that you feel, Harry, for Hermione and perhaps…" He paused and took Harry by his shoulder, "the same kind of affection that you feel for Ginny?"

Harry glanced at the man, surprise flooding his face. Arthur sighed and let Harry go. "I eventually broke off the engagement because Molly was the one who made me truly happy." He glanced at Harry out the corner of his eyes, still leaning on the fence. "You have to find out who makes you truly happy, Harry." He turned to go inside. "And if have already found the one, then you have to go after that person." He gave Harry a warm hug. "Because being truly happy in a life-time is not a gift everyone is granted."

With a small encouraging smile, Arthur turned and walked into the Burrow.

It felt like I had imagined it, that conversation with Arthur; because come on, he was giving me an out and he didn't seem too worried about it. He was the second Weasley who seemed to have no problem with me breaking off the marriage with Ginny. I often wondered after that, how many Weasleys felt the same.

That question was partially answered when the Weasley twins invited Ron and me over to the joke-shop for the annual board meeting. I had laughed when they had invited me over for the first time, a year after the war and used that exact term. After all, they had argued, Ron and I were share-holders. I picked Ron up after work, glancing longingly at the building that I wouldn't be allowed to enter by orders of the Head Auror for three more days. Draco's game was in five days, a traitorous part of my mind whispered.

Ron clapped me on the shoulder, sympathetically and led the way to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. "Draco's game is in five days, mate." Ron said, quietly. "You are coming to watch, aren't you?" I shook my head, grinning slightly. Was there an echo in here? "I wouldn't miss it for the world." I replied, truthfully. Ron smiled, "It'll work out, Har, you'll see."

"Ickle Ronnikins…" The twins greeted in sync as Ron and Harry walked in. Ron rolled his eyes and shut the door after himself. They smiled creepily. "Ickle Harrikins, as well." They clapped their hands giddily. "Why, this must be…" The other twin completed his sentence. "….our lucky day." Ron shook his head, complaining, "Can you guys not do that? It's creepy."

"What?" The twins synced smiling. "This?" They asked as one. Ron mock-shuddered. Harry grinned. "Hey guys." The twins led the way to the back of the shop where they had placed a huge table and a few chairs for familial visitors. "Since, you're going to be family, I guess you count as well, Harry." One of the twins, Harry thought it was George, said. Harry's smile dimmed a few notches. The other twin, obviously Fred, grinned and nodded. Ron cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Let's just do this board meeting thing okay?" Ron asked, sitting beside Harry and shoving Fred out of the way. George frowned. "About Ginny, mate." He said bluntly. Harry flinched. "There's something Fred and I have been meaning to talk to you about." Fred sat on Harry's other side. "Hmm, yes, you realize even we wouldn't wish Ginny on you for life, Harry?" Ron burst out laughing and George clapped him on the back. "We wouldn't, mate." Fred leaned close as if telling a secret. "Even if you do break off things with her, know that you won't be rid of us." George shook his head, smiling maniacally. "Nope, not rid of us, never." He promised.

Harry smiled gratefully. "And mate?" Harry turned back to Fred. "Don't tell her we said that." Harry grinned at Ron over George's head. Ron flashed him a soft smile and a thumbs-up.

It was very them, the kind of support they offered me; blunt and forward, yet loyal to a fault. It was just another of those make or break kind of decisions, you know? I was getting a pretty big break here and I felt guilty, I had underestimated their affection for me on many levels. Not all Weasleys were all that close to me, but the ones who were- Ron, the twins, Arthur- I had their support and in a big way that's all that mattered to me. It was just the next step in a natural progression, breaking things off with Ginny and calling off the wedding.

Yet, there was a sort of nagging feeling of sorts- obligation, perhaps? - that wouldn't let me break things off with her. Not even for Draco Malfoy who was probably, then, the person, I realized with a sort of numb shock, I loved the most in the world.