CHAPTER TEN

- HARRY -

- I -

July 2003 (Continued)
Draco's gone and my body has a hard time registering the fact. I don't seem to be able to move as I stand there, mug of cold tea in hand in the middle of my way too silent kitchen.

Suddenly the house around me, so welcoming and warm and cosy only a few days ago, feels cold and alien, almost menacing. It looks as if it's aged ten years in a few minutes, as if it had taken in my grief and was sympathising with my pain.

I shake my head. Now's not a good time to have crazy thoughts.

I have to do something. Anything to get my mind off the ache in the pit of my stomach.

I send my mug flying to the sink, Summon my broom, and head for the garden. Once there, I cast a quick Disillusionment Charm on myself and mount my broom.

I push all conscious thoughts away as I kick off the ground hard. I fly high in the air, as high as I possibly can, taking in the breathtaking view of London from a distance. I remain hovering in the air for a second or two before I pull up on the handle and shoot straight before me.

I don't have a goal. I fly, and fly, and fly, faster and faster, going where the wind takes me, revelling in it whipping my face and making my clothes flap against my body. I get high on the cold breeze up there, racing through the sky, beating my battered body.

I fly and fly and fly and soon the city view is replaced by large patches of green as I move north through the countryside. The wind in my ears makes thinking impossible and this is exactly what I'm looking for as I push my broom faster still, and it starts vibrating in my hands and I wonder fleetingly if I could bring it to breaking point.

I pass picturesque landscapes, tiny fairy-tale-like cottages spread across large patches of grass as the knot in my stomach gradually relaxes and tension leaves my body. I close my eyes and let my head spin from the speed as sensations grow more intense.

A hitch in my side makes my eyes pop open as I keep on going as fast as I can, pushing my body to exhaustion, relieving the tension from the past few days as I soar over little villages.

It's only when I feel that I've given it everything I can, that there's nothing left inside of me that I turn around and head back home.

- II -

"Where on earth have you been?" Hermione's voice is the first thing I hear as I step into my house. "Do you have any idea how worried we've been? Ron's gone looking for you and here you come…" She walks to me, looking more furious than ever and hits me hard on the arm. "All sweaty and disgusting and oh, God, Harry, I am so, so sorry!" she says, taking me in a hug.

"Er, it's all right, Hermione, I'm all right."

She pulls back to look at me. "How can you be?" she asks, her arms resting in mine. "Anna told me about-"

"It's for the best." I smile. "It was high time for him to leave. He didn't have any more reasons to stay here."

She shakes her head, a cleft forming between her eyebrows, a look of concern on her face. "Really?"

"I promise you, I'm fine." I force another smile.

"You're coming home with me for dinner tonight." I open my mouth to protest but she raises her hand to stop me. "You are. You're going to have dinner with us, all right?"

"Will you be cooking?"

She narrows her eyes. "Of course not."

"I'll come then."

"Git," she says, slapping me on my arm again and I let out a small chuckle.

We stop to order Indian takeaway at a place near where Ron and Hermione live. They moved into the flat as soon as Ron was done with Auror training. Just like my house, it's located in a Muggle area.

I accepted Hermione's invitation because I knew I wouldn't hear the end of it if I didn't, but I don't regret it. We spend the evening chatting about everything and anything, and there are even moments when my stomach isn't churning at the thought of what happened this morning.

When we're done, Ron starts yawning more than is reasonable and I stand up to leave.

"You should stay here," Hermione says. "Just for tonight."

"Yeah, mate, stay."

I shake my head. "I need to go home."

"You sure you're going to be okay? I mean, you can stay here as long as you want and-"

"I'm fine, Hermione. Stop worrying about me. I've survived worse; I'll survive this. It's not the end of the world."

She stares deep into my eyes for long seconds. "Of course you will. Just take care of yourself, okay? I'll check on you in the morning."

"You don't-"

"I will."

I sigh. "Right. Talk to you tomorrow then."

I take a pinch of Floo powder and disappear into the fireplace.

- III -

I land in my dark living room, shadows dancing on the walls as silence immediately overwhelms me.

I cast a Lumos and head upstairs without looking back. Once on the landing, I hesitate.

I take a look at the two doors in front of me; on the left, my bedroom, on the right, Draco's.

I open the door to my bedroom. I try not to think about how long it's been since I've slept here. Months. I undress to my underpants and slip under the sheets. I start shaking uncontrollably so I grab my wand and cast a Warming Charm under the covers.

I wrap myself in the soft warmth and close my eyes.

I'm almost surprised when a tear starts in the corner of my eye, swiftly followed by another, and another, and there's absolutely nothing I can do to stop them.

They pour and pour and pour and I lie here, alone in my empty house, sobbing uncontrollably. I roll over on my side as tears keep pouring out of me, and cry like I haven't done in a long time.

I cry for losing Draco. I cry for what could have been and isn't. I cry for all the wrongs in my life, and I shed the tears I never did in the past.

After what feels like hours, I fall asleep, exhausted.

- IV -

I wake up and it takes me long seconds to remember what happened yesterday.

Wonderful seconds, during which, I bask in blissful oblivion, waiting for Draco's fingers to run over my side, waiting for the usual 'You're here' whispered in my ear, waiting for his warm body to press flush against mine before it finally strikes me that no, he's not in here with me. I am well and truly alone.

I sit on my bed and take a deep, long breath, closing my eyes and opening them only when I feel ready to do so.

Move on.

I force myself to go and take a shower - in my former bathroom - dress, and head downstairs.

Of course, Draco's not there making me tea, not today, not tomorrow, not ever again, and I just have to live with it.

It's for the best, I tell myself over and over again, like a mantra, wishing the words would finally sink in so that I can get on with my life.

I try hard not to think about the fact that there's nothing much to my life at the moment.

I cling to the little ordinary things and make tea, drinking it while I stare at the garden. I jump as I hear a floorboard creak upstairs. I close my eyes and imagine Draco coming up behind me, wrapping me in his arms.

I pop my eyes open.

Move on.

Hermione arrives shortly afterwards, faithful to the promise she made last night.

"How are you today?" she asks immediately.

"Good." I smile. It's my default setting in front of her these days.

"How did you sleep?"

I shrug. "Not too bad, considering."

"Right."

We sit at the kitchen table and I listen to Hermione distract me with stories from work, carefully avoiding anything related to Draco. He is, of course, in every single one of my thoughts, in every single object in this kitchen, in this ridiculous mug I wanted to crash against the nearest wall this morning and that I finally took to drink my tea.

"… party?"

"What?" I ask.

"Your birthday party."

"Oh, I…" I'd forgotten about that. Like completely. Why would I care about my fucking birthday party when I've lost the only person who matters.

"You can't not celebrate your birthday, Harry."

"Why not?"

"Because, it's just not done."

"I honestly don't want to do anything."

"Well then, don't. Maybe we can just do a little something at the Burrow. I'm sure Molly'd be happy to help."

"I-" I start, ready to tell her that I really, really have no desire to do anything for my birthday. But then, I know she'd be disappointed. "Er, yes, why not."

"Okay, now, who do you want for your birthday?"

"Draco," I blurt without thinking. "Fuck." I stand up so fast that the chair falls on the floor with a loud thud. My eyes prickle. I didn't know I still had any tears left.

Hermione doesn't say anything. She just looks at me.

"Sorry," I say.

"Don't apologise."

"Fine. I'm not sorry."

Hermione's mouth slowly curls up in a weird lopsided smile, and, for some reason, the look on her face does me in and I suddenly burst out laughing.

And then she's laughing too.

- V -

In the days that follow I try my best not to let myself sink. I force myself into a routine of sorts and stick to it. It works much better than I'd expected.

Even if the temptation of staying in bed all day is high, I get up, take a shower, do a little bit of cleaning and then go out to fly. Sometimes I fly for hours. Sometimes I'm exhausted after only a few minutes. It doesn't matter.

Move on.

It's not an easy thing to do. Not when every inch of this house reminds me of him, his absence so overwhelming sometimes, it takes me by surprise and punches all the air out of my lungs. I already avoid Draco's bedroom like the plague. I haven't set foot inside it since the day he left. Too bad I can't do the same with the living room or the kitchen.

I try to adapt. The other day I spent hours moving the furniture around, over and over again, objects flying around me with every flick of my wand. I even changed the colour of Draco's favourite armchair. It went from red to white, to blue, to grey. I changed the cushions and removed the frames.

When I was done with the living room, I did the same with the kitchen.

It didn't work much. The morning after, when I went downstairs, everything was back to what it had been before. I wasn't surprised; this house always seemed to have a mind of its own. Or maybe I'm the one responsible for that. My nights are a little bit unstable lately, so I can't really say.

To avoid spending too much time in the house, I decide to focus on the garden. I take out all the tools I bought a few weeks ago and lay them out them in front of me on the terrace. The sun is high in the sky, the birds chirping happily in the trees, and it really is the perfect day to garden. Only I have no idea where to start. I take my time looking around, trying to remember what Neville had taught me all these years ago.

Neville.

I go back inside the house and get on my knees in front of the fireplace.

To say Neville is happy to see me is an understatement. And to be honest, I'm happy to see him too. I hadn't realised how much I'd missed him. How much I'd missed his easygoing personality and his kindness. I invite him inside, and then take him to the garden, telling him what I'd like to do. Of course, he has loads of ideas. He congratulates me on the job I've already done and gives me advice, promising to come back with plants and more tools the next weekend.

And so, the following Saturday, we're back in my garden. The weather's not as nice as before, but at least it's still warm. We set to work, and Neville tells me all about his job as a Herbology professor at Hogwarts, how odd it had been at first to stand in front of the students when he'd been one not so long ago, and how intimidated he still is by McGonagall. We talk about our common experience of leaving the Aurors - although Neville left them way before I did - and it feels good to be able to talk about it freely, without a nagging feeling of guilt.

We dig out weeds and turn the soil, making it ready to welcome the new plants Neville brought. I wanted to pay him for it, but, of course, he refused. I make a mental note to invite him over for lunch.

And then the conversation moves to different grounds. We kneel in the grass, bent over a flower bed when he tells me he's got a new girlfriend, Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff from our year. I remember her from the DA, although I've never really interacted with her beyond that when we were at school. Neville looks completely besotted, his face lightening up when he talks about her, the way I probably did with Draco.

After that, we remain silent for a while as we place the little rosebush in the hole we dug. Neville opens and closes his mouth a few times as if wanting to say something but thinking better of it at the last minute.

When we're finished with the rosebush, I turn to him.

"It's okay, Neville. You can ask me whatever you want, you know."

He looks at me and does the gaping thing again before finally speaking. "Are you sure?"

"Of course, go ahead."

"Fine." He wipes his hands together and sits back on his haunches. "Ron and Hermione told me about… about Malfoy, and what you did, and… how it all evolved, and how you managed to help him, and…" he bites his lips and looks at me. "The war really got him bad, didn't it?"

"Yeah."

"I mean, I won't lie, I don't- Well, you know how I feel about him. He's not my favourite person in the world."

I can't help smiling at that. "Really? I don't understand that. Draco's been nothing but incredibly kind and gentle to you all these years. He even went as far as showing you the different possible uses for your Remembrall."

He laughs. "Well, at least it allowed you to make it on the Quidditch team."

"True."

"But honestly, I'm not sure I ever hated anyone at Hogwarts more than I hated him."

"Have you met Snape?"

He laughs again. "I didn't hate Snape; I was afraid of him. It does make a difference, you know. But then of course, it all changed with the war."

"Everything changed with the war."

He nods. "Indeed."

At the end of the day, my garden is even more beautiful than in my memories and it makes me incredibly proud and accomplished.

That night, I sleep much better than I have in days.

- VI -

I'm never left alone more than a day at a time. Not that it bothers me. It keeps me busy and prevents me from rehashing unwanted thoughts.

Today, it's Mrs Weasley, Andromeda and Teddy's turn to show up in my living room.

Teddy is oddly quiet for once. He keeps looking around; I wonder what Andromeda told him about Draco.

I take advantage of Mrs Weasley and Andromeda going outside to take a look at the garden, to take Teddy on my lap on the couch.

"Hey, what's bothering you, Teddy?"

"Nothing," he says, and brings his tiny hand to his mouth as his hair turns a pale-white blond. My heart clenches at the sight.

"It's okay, you know. We can talk about it."

He's biting his lip, staring at me, unsure about what to do or say. "Grandma said it would make you sad."

I smile. "Go ahead. I'll be all right."

"Why did he leave?"

I take a deep breath. "Because he needed to take care of important things in his life."

"But couldn't he do it with you?"

"Well, sometimes you have to do things on your own. It's important for him, you know?"

"But aren't you sad that he's gone?"

"I am. I'm terribly sad. I miss him very much."

Teddy traces the outline of my glasses with his finger. "Are you angry with him? That he's gone?"

I take my time to answer that. "No. I'm not angry. I know it was the right thing to do." I hope I sound more convinced than I really am.

Teddy draws his eyebrows, forming a little cleft between them as he seems lost in concentration. "Do you think he's sad he had to leave then?"

"I think so."

"Then why did he do it? If you're sad and he's sad?" He shakes his head. "I don't understand."

"Because sometimes, you have to do what is right, even though you know it might hurt."

"How can it be right if it hurts?"

Merlin.

"Well, it does take a lot of courage to leave someone when you know it's going to be hard."

He presses a finger on my scar, tracing its pattern with his fingertip a couple of times before looking into my eyes again. "Like my mum and dad?"

"Yes. Just like them."

"Tell me again how brave they were."

And I start telling Teddy stories of his parents like I've done so many times before. He keeps his hair blond the whole time as he snuggles against me, sucking his thumb, holding the little plush dragon I gave him for his last birthday very close.

Andromeda gasps as she enters the living room and sees his little blond head on my chest.

"It's okay," I say. "We've just had a little chat."

- VII -

A hand against my neck that slowly glides down my shoulder.

The trail of fingertips swiftly followed by the soft caress of lips, brushing the skin of my back, making me shiver.

Going down, down, down, the tip of his tongue trails a long wet stripe along my spine.

I arch my back.

His other hand comes to rest on my hip, soothing, caressing its way to my arse.

Soon, both his hands are on my arse cheeks, and he places kisses, light as a feather, all around my tailbone.

I let out a low moan that starts deep in my chest and ends on my lips, whispering, 'Draco.'

I feel him smile against my skin as his hands move up and down my sides, and I arch my back again, wanting more, needing more.

His kisses are not as soft as they were before; they're more insistent, more urgent; he's claiming me with them.

I'm ready to surrender.

A sharp noise against the window prompts me to wake up, and there's a moment when I just refuse to open my eyes. My body's on fire, my erection pressing hard against the mattress.

But the noise starts again, and then a tap tap tap on the window pane forces me to acknowledge it.

I spring out of bed, stark naked in retaliation, as if my state of undress would have any impact on the owl waiting outside. The bird blatantly ignores me as I open the window and it flies inside, dropping the Prophet on my bed.

Bloody fucking Prophet. I really don't know why I subscribed to it again a couple of weeks ago.

I Summon five Knuts from the nightstand and put them into the small leather pouch tied to the owl's leg. I shoo the bird outside.

I wank harshly under the shower, quick, angry strokes that bring me to the edge, but don't remove the intense craving for him the dream has brought back to the surface. It was there, so reachable!

And then I had to wake up.

I grab the first set of clothes I find on the floor and head downstairs, seize my broom and kick off hard from the ground as the last prickle of the Disillusionment Charm fades away.

I push my broom to its limit, flying higher and harder than ever, allowing the cold wind to fill me up as I try for the umpteenth time to remember how on earth Draco leaving was supposed to be a good idea in the first place.

When I've been outside for hours and still have no answers, I head back home, exhausted, but feeling somehow better than when I left.

I slump on the couch with the Prophet. I skim the Good News section absentmindedly, ready to skip the Bad News one, and go directly to the International section when the title 'Dragon Mascot Stupefied' catches my eye and my heart misses a beat. For a second I thought… I find the International section and start reading an article about the illegal trade of Dark Artefacts that's apparently plaguing Bulgaria these days when the Floo roars to life, and Neville's head appears in the fire.

He has an odd request: he needs someone to help him with the greenhouses at Hogwarts and thought about me.

"I'll only need you Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays when I'm in Greenhouse Two conducting experiments," Neville says, "It's only for a few weeks anyway, a couple of months tops."

I really don't know what to think about the whole thing. On the one hand, it's tempting, because I'd have something to do, something that wouldn't take me too much time, and that would allow me to leave the house and have a purpose. And, I must admit I need that much more than I thought. Rehashing dark thoughts here is probably not such a good idea in the long term.

On the other hand, it's Hogwarts. I haven't been there since the last time I went to see McGonagall, and I must admit, I have mixed feeling about going back.

But then I take a look at Neville's face in the fireplace and he's so expectant that, in the end, I know I can't really refuse.

"All right, then."

Neville's face lightens up. "Brilliant!" he says. "Can you start right away?"

"Um, I don't know, I'm rather busy these days, I need to check my schedule first." I smirk and Neville laughs. "Of course."

"Thank you so much, Harry!" Neville says, taking me into a hug. "I owe you one!"

"You're very welcome."

- VIII -

The first time I set foot again at Hogwarts, I'm assailed with a multitude of memories that seem to come back all at once and blend together in an extraordinary mess. Memories of what I'd considered my home for a long time, and that will definitely be engraved in my mind for as long as I live. I grew up here.

If I really had apprehensions coming back, I find that it's far from being as intimidating as I thought it would be. The fact that it's the summer probably helps too. There are not many people around. Even McGonagall is away at the moment.

The castle looks exactly as it had before the war. It's as if nothing has changed. I don't know why it surprises me, because Hogwarts has been through many traumatic events in its history, and has always, always managed to get over them, regenerating.

I decide to arrive early to go and visit Hagrid first. I walk to his hut, breathing in the warm summer air. To say Hagrid's happy to see me is an understatement. He takes me in a huge bear hug and I feel my heart clench a little at the thought that I haven't given him much in the way of news over the last months. Last time I sent him an owl was… well. I don't even remember.

Of course, Hagrid doesn't resent me for it one second, and invites me in straight away, and I have a hard time speaking as it feels as if I've gone back in time. I almost expect Ron and Hermione to knock on the door and join us for tea. I listen to Hagrid telling me all about the wonderful creatures he's managed to introduce to the curriculum for the upcoming year as Fang snores loudly on the floor next to me.

An hour later, I make my way to Greenhouse One.

"Neville?" I call as I knock on the open door. I step over empty pots and tools scattered on the soil-strewn floor as a whiff of damp earth and fertiliser assail my nostrils.

"Harry!" Neville says, and I hear a loud clattering of pots falling to the floor - some of them breaking in the process - followed by a "Bloody hell. Reparo!" It takes me several seconds to finally see him, buried as he is in a multitude of plants that wriggle and squeak so much he has trouble dealing with all of them at once. He flicks his wand frantically as he tries to get the plants to stop for a moment, but every time he manages to calm one, another takes over.

"Bloody Screechsnaps," Neville says. "Always so sensitive to dragon dung compost. I should- Argh, sorry, Harry, I have to- Ouch!"

He falls on his bum, so I take out my wand to help him. It takes us a good ten minutes to bring peace and quiet back to the greenhouse.

"Thanks, mate," Neville says. "Happy to see you."

"'Welcome," I say as I hand Neville the last pot. "So, what do you need me for?"

"Right, let's start over here." He shows me around, speaking animatedly, and it's really easy to understand why he's just perfect for this job.

There's a sparkle in his eyes when he explains to me that after Professor Sprout retired last year, he decided to work with a wider variety of plants. He's imported many samples from abroad and some of them need close attention. My job will be to assist him in taking care of these plants.

I start the next day. It takes me the entire first week to get used to the particularities of each species, but I quickly find my marks, and enjoy the time spent in the overheated greenhouses. I water the plants, feed them with dragon dung compost and talk to them (Neville insisted on this point; Magical plants are very sensitive to small talk).

I enjoy watching them grow and evolve, sometimes, from one day to another. I never know what I'm going to find when I arrive each day since some of the plants grow extremely quickly. One morning, when I opened the door, giant red flowers that had not been there the night before had overtaken Greenhouse Three and filled it with an overpowering fragrance that had made me instantly dizzy.

Neville and I usually have a quick lunch outside, on a huge rock that sits beside the entrance to Greenhouse Two, where we spend every afternoon. That's the greenhouse Neville has turned into a lab, and where he grows plants for his various experiments; he works with St Mungo's closely on medicinal plants, but also in collaboration with Blaise Zabini. Every week, he prepares trunks of plants to be delivered to various parts of the UK.

When we're done, I usually head to Hagrid's hut for tea.

All in all, it's all much more fulfilling than I'd thought it would be, and I find myself really content with how things are turning out.

- IX -

The rest of the month passes with its lot of okay days, and not-so-okay days, but I manage to keep it together. It's not always easy, but I'm determined not to let myself go. There are even moments, like tonight, when I am able to appreciate life as it is without second guessing myself.

"Looking for some peace and quiet, too?" I say as I sit next to Ginny on the front steps of the Burrow. Chatter and laughter escape from the open windows.

"Well, living with six brothers, you tend to look for it quite a lot."

I smile. "I can imagine."

She holds her glass up in the air. "Happy birthday, Harry."

I hold mine up as well, and we clink glasses. "Thanks." I take a sip of wine. "So… You're on your own tonight?"

She grimaces. "Yeah. Chester and I broke up."

"Oh, sorry to hear that. You want to talk about it?"

She shrugs. "There's nothing much to say, you know. He wasn't for me. Too nice."

I chuckle. "Right. How are the Harpies doing then?"

"Not too bad."

We spend the next few minutes talking about Ginny's job, and I love seeing the stars in her eyes as she talks about practise, her teammates, and the stakes for the upcoming season.

"What about you?" she asks when she's done. "How are you doing?"

I wince.

"That bad?"

"It's- It's okay."

She nudges me with her shoulder. "Not with me. We were together for almost a year. I know you."

"Right. It's hard. It's- Sometimes it feels as if someone's just ripped my insides apart, you know?"

"I know," she simply says, looking away.

I turn to look at her. "I'm sorry."

She looks at me, a small smile on her lips. "Don't be. It was a long time ago. It wasn't meant to be. I've long accepted it."

She lets out a little laugh.

"What?" I frown.

"I never told you how proud I was of you when you broke up with me."

"Proud?"

I remember how it was, and pride isn't the first thing on my mind when I think about the look on Ginny's face in the painful moment when I broke her heart.

"Yes. Because it felt like it was the first time you listened to yourself and put your own needs before anyone else's."

"Oh."

She nods. "And although it broke my heart, I was immensely proud of you for finally standing up for yourself. You deserved to be happy."

"Well." I shrug.

"But then, I guess after the war, there were too many things…" She shakes her head and sighs. "I mean it was hard for everybody, but I think it really hit you harder than anyone else. You'd given so much to others, given without ever expecting anything back from anybody, ignored your own desires and needs for so long that it was- all that happened to you… I'm glad you're out of it."

"Thanks."

"So what are you going to do now?"

"I don't want to be an Auror."

She smiles. "I see you've made up your mind about that."

"I have. It's not for me. I hate having to follow stupid rules from conservative wankers because it's procedure. Fuck procedure. If I'd complied with it when we were fighting Voldemort, we'd all be dead."

"I know," she says, absentmindedly running her fingers over her glass.

"I was angry after the war."

"I think I noticed that," she says, wrinkling her nose.

"Yeah," I smile. "It's just that, I thought things would change, that it'd be different. I believed people would get it, that they'd understand that in the end, it's not just about them or me, as individuals, but it's about everyone, and I mean absolutely everyone, no matter which side of the war they were on. I thought they'd finally understand that just one person couldn't make all the change, that it was everybody's duty."

"You can't blame people for believing in you."

"I don't. And I didn't really back then. I just wished they'd taken their responsibilities."

I kick the ground with the tip of my shoe, trying to dislodge a pebble from the earth. "When Voldemort died, many believed it was all over, that they could go back to their lives and that they were safe because someone had killed the bad guy. They saw me as some kind of reassuring protective figure. They turned me into the Saviour-of-the-Wizarding-World, this fantasy version of myself who was going to become an Auror, marry his best friend's sister and have little saviour children - boys and girls because even there I couldn't fail them - and be around to protect them forever."

I finally manage to dislodge the pebble and kick it hard. It rolls away until it meets a small clump of grass. "But it's all a lie. That's not the way the world works. That kind of thinking is dangerous because it makes people lazy. It doesn't encourage them to think for themselves. It's the kind of thinking that leads to Unspeakables and revenge-seeking Aurors feeling justified in deciding who deserves to live and who deserves to die. But it's not. It's everyone's responsibility. And how are things supposed to work if every single time the wizarding world is in trouble, people turn to one person to solve it? I'm as dangerous as Voldemort in that regard."

"There's one difference between you and Voldemort, though."

"Well, I hope there's more than one." I chuckle.

"Git." She smiles and her face lights up. "I meant one major difference."

"What?"

"You didn't want the Elder wand, and when you had it, you didn't keep it."

I let the words sink in. "No. I didn't."

I look up at the stars above, so bright and numerous. "I think it's important to acknowledge what's been done and what can still be improved. I made the mistake of thinking, at one point, that things were supposed to change dramatically, while in reality, change comes from little things. It has to come from the people, even if the Ministry has a role to play." I sip my wine, relishing the peacefulness of the warm summer night. "But it's not enough. What really matters is enlightening the young witches and wizards, to teach them how to avoid another Voldemort at all cost."

"Educate them."

"Yes. I believe that's how we'll change things in the end. And that's-" I take a deep breath. "That's what frustrated me when I was in the Aurors."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know, we'd arrest Dark Wizards, we'd send them to Azkaban, but in the end, we didn't really solve the problem. We'd just move it somewhere else. Dark Wizards need to be punished for what they did, but we also have to educate people better… And I think… I think I'd rather educate than punish."

She leans back and folds her arms across her chest, scrutinising me. "You'd be a very good teacher."

I wince. "I don't know. I mean, I've never been academically brilliant like Hermione, you see?"

"Oh, Harry." She shakes her head. "It doesn't matter. We all know people who were not really successful at school and yet became very good teachers. Knowledge isn't everything when it comes to teaching."

"Yeah, well."

She scoffs. "And believe me, if Gilderoy Lockhart could be a teacher, then so can you."

"True." I chuckle. "I still have a hard time understanding why Dumbledore would hire someone like him."

"Well, maybe he wanted to have a good laugh?" She chuckles. "Anyway. You were a very good teacher when you led the DA." I make a face, remembering how unsure I'd felt preparing the first few lessons. "It's true! You were. You were the best Defence teacher we ever had."

"You're forgetting Lupin."

"True." She smiles. "He was…"

"Yes," I cut her off. "He was."

"So educating rather than punishing, then?"

"Yes. It doesn't mean I think the Aurors are useless, far from it. Aurors are an undeniable part of the change. We need them, and we always will. But we need smart Aurors, not power-thirsty angry witches and wizards." I push my glasses up my nose.

"We need more Rons."

I chuckle. "The world definitely needs more Rons. I'm so happy he's finally found something that makes him happy."

"Yes."

I finish my wine in one gulp, letting it fill my mouth before swallowing it all at once. I turn to Ginny, taking in her round face, her soft features, and her sharp, bright eyes.

"I love you, you know?" I say. "You're so important to me."

She smiles. "I know. Same to you."

She remains silent for a little while, staring into space. "I'll never forget you. You were my first."

I roll my eyes. "Don't remind me."

She laughs. "I didn't mean it like that, you perv! And besides, it wasn't that bad!"

"Well, only because I was thinking about Ron's gorgeous Auror partner while we were-"

"Shut up, you tosser!" she says, shoving me hard, her laugh clear in the cool summer night. "Were you, really?"

"Of course not. I loved you, you know that. I would never-"

"I know."

She takes another sip of her wine as I grab a stick from the ground.

"I can't believe Malfoy was the one to finally capture your heart."

"Yeah, well," I say, drawing patterns in the dirt with the stick. "Too bad he forgot to give it back."

She snorts. "That's the cheesiest line of all times."

"Yours wasn't bad either."

"True. Anyway. I had no idea you had a thing for blond arrogant pure-blood prats."

"Well, he's much less of a prat these days."

"I know. Even Ron seems to think so, and that means something." She places her hand on my arm. "He'll come back. At one point."

I shake my head. "I don't want to think about it, honestly. I don't want to spend my life waiting for him."

"Oh Merlin, no. That's not what I meant. But I think… I think the two of you make sense in a sort of weird fucked-up way. That you're made to be together. After all, it's always been about him."

I take her wine away from her. "You've had too much of this, I think." I finish it off.

"Hey! That was mine!" She slaps me on the knee.

Laughter escapes one of the open windows behind us. I let out a snicker.

"What?"

"He was so jealous of you. Draco, I mean."

"Really?" she says, an air of utter disbelief on her face.

"Oh, yes, he was. Called you Ginevra." She grimaces. "He hated it when I talked about you."

"You talked about me? Oh, Harry." She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "You actually talked about your ex-girlfriend to your boyfriend? No wonder he walked away."

"Yep. And now I'm talking about my ex-boyfriend to my ex-girlfriend. Fuck, my life is a mess." I smile and then stand up, brushing the dust off my trousers. "We'd better go back inside before your mum starts a search party and gets the wrong idea."

"Merlin, yes. We wouldn't want that!"

- X -

I exit the Burrow surrounded by my friends, who are oddly silent. It makes me both nervous and suspicious.

"What?" I ask them as we walk to the Apparition point

Hermione casts a sideways glance at Ron, who looks at Ginny, who rolls her eyes. "We've organised something. For your birthday, and we…"

I frown. "You've organised something? But I told you-"

Ginny walks to me. "Yeah, I know you told us you didn't want to do anything but-"

"But we're fed up that you never leave that rotten house of yours, and we thought it was high time we did something about it," Hermione says, standing by Ginny's side.

"Yeah, high time." Ron closes the circle around me.

"But-"

"No buts, mate. We're taking you out."

"Out?"

"To the Leaky Cauldron."

"The Leaky Cauldron?"

"And I'm a total wanker," Ginny says very seriously.

"Excuse me, what?" I frown.

"Oh, I thought it was a new game of 'I repeat every single word my friends say,'" she says with a chuckle.

"But I can't-" I look at them in disbelief. "I can't- No. There's no…"

"You're going," Hermione steps in.

"Now," Ginny says, hooking her arm with mine.

"Sorry, mate," are the last words I hear before I feel the familiar pull of Apparition twisting my insides.

We Apparate into the middle of Diagon Alley, and for a couple of seconds, panic and dread seem to fight their way inside my brain. I don't have time to think too much about it when Ginny and Hermione each take one of my arms and walk me towards the Leaky.

"Hey, I can walk on my own," I mutter and they let go of me, but keep close.

It's already pretty late, and thankfully, there are not that many people outside. It's been a while since I was here. The last time was ages ago when I'd had to Apparate away as a group of hysterical fans had chased me around the pub after I'd, once again, made the headlines. Since then, I'd told myself it wasn't worth it anymore.

But today, even if I can feel people's insistent glances and catch some whispered words as I walk by, it's nothing like it was before. And, in the end, I find the walk pretty pleasant.

When I push open the door to the Leaky, it takes me a couple of seconds to get over the shock; the place looks nothing like the dark and shabby inn it was the last time I checked. The atmosphere is very different; Enchanted Candles float towards the ceiling, bringing the place a brighter and warmer look amplified by the new layout and furniture that, for some reason, remind me a little of the Great Hall at Hogwarts.

It's only when I see Hannah Abbott behind the bar that I remember she's the one behind all these changes.

"Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron, Harry!" she says, rounding the bar counter and pulling me into a warm embrace. "And, happy birthday!" she adds as she releases me. "So, do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's- It's very different; it's- It's brilliant. You did all this?"

She nods. "I got a little bit of help, though." And right on cue, Neville comes up behind her and places his hand at the small of her back.

"Happy birthday, mate," he says, beaming.

Neville talks about Hannah a lot when we're in the greenhouses. He told me the story of how they got together after they bumped into each other several months ago, and ended up becoming more than friends. It's the first time I've actually seen them together though.

"Your friends are already here," Hannah says, and for a fraction of a second, my heart jumps in my chest at the thought that maybe, maybe…

But when I turn to the boot in the opposite corner of the pub, it's only Blaise and Anna. I'm very happy to see them, though since it's been a while. In fact, the last time I saw them was-

"Harry!" Anna takes me in a tight hug. "You look good!"

"Thank you. You look good too."

"Hey, no hitting on my girlfriend," Blaise says, curling a protective arm around Anna's waist. I can't help chuckling at the look on his face. God, I've missed them so much.

We all squeeze into the leather booths on either side of the heavy table, and the night passes incredibly fast as Hannah brings drink, after drink, after drink, and after a while, it feels like we've all toasted my birthday enough times to last me the next ten years.

At one point, I feel the need to pull back a little. I look at all these people, my old, faithful friends, as well as the more recent, unexpected ones, and a smile slowly grows on my face.

- DRACO -

He looks happy.

That's the first thing that strikes me when I see him again for the first time in weeks.

Here he is, surrounded by his friends, laughing and drinking and talking, and my heart clenches at the sight.

I am high on the sound of his laughter, and I can't take my eyes off him.

I wasn't supposed to come tonight, of course. What if he saw me? That would ruin the whole purpose of leaving. And it would hurt him; I know it would. And that's the last thing I want to do. I've already hurt him enough.

But somehow, I just couldn't help myself. I couldn't help listening in when Anna told Blaise they were meeting him here tonight; the temptation was too strong. I followed them.

It's not the first time I've been tempted to come back. In fact, the moment I stepped into Blaise's house that first day, I wanted nothing more than just go back to Harry - where I know deep inside that I belong. But then, Blaise was there, and the reasons I'd left in the first place all came back at once.

And now, here I am, lurking in the dark on this warm, summer night, drinking in the sight of him, wanting nothing more than to open the pub door and lunge at him, to find refuge in his arms like I have so many times, to have him hold me tight, whispering comforting words, and drown in the illusion that things could be as they were before.

But then I remember why I left. I remember why I made the hardest decision ever.

I take a last look at him as he talks animatedly to Hermione, his face as expressive as ever, his hands moving excitedly in front of him before I turn around and walk away without looking back.