A/N: The short story featured in this chapter ('The Princess and the Moon') is an original piece written by myself.

He Apparated directly to Draco's front garden, where Scorpius and Teddy were industriously building a snowman with a carrot mohawk. He walked straight up to Teddy and grabbed him by the hand.

"Hey! Harry, let go! Harry!" Teddy tried to tug his gloved hand away from Harry's vicelike grip. "What's going on?"

"You're going to your grandmother's."

"What, now?"

"Yes," Harry said in the same flat tone.

"Why? I don't want to, Scorpius said I could stay the night — let go! Stop it! You're scaring me!" Teddy tried to pull away; Scorpius was standing in the background, looking afraid.

"What's going on? Hey, sir, let go of Ted — "

"Harry? Are you alright?" Draco's soft voice brought Harry back to earth. He let go of Teddy, who rubbed his arm and looked up at Harry.

"She said no, didn't she?" Teddy said in a small voice.

Harry shook his head mutely, not trusting himself to speak.

"She said yes? She said maybe? She said she hates you?" Teddy tried.

"Why don't you two finish your snowman?" Draco said, touching Harry's shoulder.

"No. I'm not going til I know Harry's okay," Teddy said resolutely. "What'd she do to you? Did she throw a curse at you? Did she attack you? Did she lie to you?"

"Worse," Harry said at last. "She told me the truth."

Teddy fell back unhappily as Draco led Harry inside, watching as the two disappeared into Draco's house.

"He'll be alright," Scorpius said. "Dad'll take care of him."

Teddy looked back at him, his face pale and anxious. "I hope so," he said.

The two boys stood side by side in the snow for a long time.

They sat at the dining table, opposite each other. A poinsettia was in the middle of the table, surrounded with other Christmas debris: a pair of scissors, a roll of tape, a half-eaten bag of éclairs. There was a long silence which Draco wisely chose not to break, until Harry finally spoke up.

"You."

"What?" Draco was startled.

"You." Harry looked up at him, his eyes filled with fury. "You knew! You even told Hermione! You went around bloody telling everyone except me!"

"Harry — "

"Just like school! Everyone knowing except me...always, always being kept out of the loop," he added, unable to stop the bitterness weighing his words. "I suppose you thought it was funny, everyone else knowing while I didn't have a single bloody clue..."

"What do you think this is, Hogwarts again? Don't tell me you've had your memories modified too," Draco snapped, and Harry had drawn his wand before he even realised he was doing it. Draco didn't seem the least bit perturbed.

"Tea?"

"No," Harry snarled.

"Such a temper," Draco said mildly. "It's a good thing we've always gotten along so well."

Harry stared at him for a moment, then started laughing.

"You really need to talk to her."

"Yeah."

It was five hours later and Harry was morosely stirring his fifth cup of tea.

"She broke my heart."

"It happens," Draco shrugged.

"Why? Why would she do it?"

"That's a question only she can answer."

"Thanks, O Wise One," Harry said sarcastically.

"You're welcome."

"What about you?" Harry asked. "You've never changed your memories. Why not?"

Draco shrugged again. "I don't know. I suppose I think experiences and memories build a person. I wouldn't be the same person if I forgot those experiences."

"Exactly," Harry said slowly. "She's not the same person. She's so different. I can't talk to her."

Draco tactfully said nothing.

"That's it, then," Harry said. "I'm not...I'm...that's it. Enough. I think we both need to move on."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked, his eyes searching Harry's.

"Yes. I am," Harry said, certainty suddenly filling his veins. "I'm tired. I've had enough."

"That's a pretty big decision," Draco said, hesitating. "Less than ten hours ago, you were proposing to her."

Harry shrugged. "Things fall apart."

"I'll drink to that," Draco said.

His phone kept ringing and, at long last, he answered.

"Hello?"

"Harry, it's me." Ginny's uncertain voice came through. Harry sighed and let the silence go on.

"Harry, we need to talk. Listen — "

"Ginny, not now. Not today. Give me some space."

"No, Harry, I think you should come home. Where are you?"

"I'm alright," Harry said. "I'm fine, that's all you need to know."

"Harry, I really want to talk."

Harry hesitated, but eventually replied. "And I really don't."

"Harry, are you sure you're alright?" Ginny asked.

"Yes. I'm fine. Totally okay," Harry replied, and he was. There was a calm before the storm, and there was a calm afterwards, when the rain gently eased and the world was grey and silent. That was how he felt, slow and silent. Something in his life had faded away, and that was perfectly alright.

"Harry, you shouldn't be bottling up your emotions — "

"I'm not."

"I'll be waiting for you," Ginny said. "Come on, just go home..."

"I won't be home tonight," Harry said, making a split decision. "I'll talk with you tomorrow."

He hung up and turned round, bumping straight into Draco. His expression was unreadable.

"I'll get Scorpius to set another place at the table," he told Harry.

"Are there any carrots in this?"

"Just eat it."

"Because I really don't like carrots."

A pause.

"What's this? This looks like a carrot — "

Harry could see Draco struggling not to yell at his son in front of their guests, and he stepped in.

"Scorpius, if you don't like it you can go cook something else for dinner," Harry said. "Your choice. Now quit complaining."

"Oh, sir, you can't tell me off," Scorpius said.

"Yes I can. I'm your professor. Telling you off comes naturally to me. What's the correct incantation to dispel a Bogart?"

"Oh, me!" Teddy's hand shot up, instantly going into school-mode.

"Riddikulus," Scorpius said quickly. "Ask another one, I bet I'll get it!"

"Alright. How does a Kappie kill its prey?"

"It lures them into marshlands," Teddy said quickly, much to Scorpius's disappointment.

"Okay, another," Harry said. "What colour is a Kappie?"

"Oh, I know — " Scorpius gestured excitedly and he ended up with a sleeveful of pasta.

"Scourgify," Harry said casually, and with a gentle wave of his wand the stains disappeared.

"Brown!" Teddy said triumphantly.

"Oh, sir, that was wicked. Wasn't that wicked, Ted?"

"What, a cleaning spell? Not really," Teddy said dismissively. "I'm right, aren't I Harry? Brown?"

"Greeny-grey, actually," Harry laughed, to Teddy's disappointment.

"Oh well. That was really delicious, Mr Malfoy, may I please be excused?" Teddy asked; Draco nodded and Teddy took his plate to the sink, rinsing it off.

"It'd be nice if you had manners like that," Draco commented to Scorpius.

"Yeah, it's a crying shame," Scorpius said, inspecting a possible bit of carrot.

Harry tried valiantly to hide his smile.

Draco hesitated as Harry sat in the lounge, listening to the boys bickering over which movie to watch.

"You need something to take your mind off her," he said quietly. Harry nodded, gazing into the distance. Draco hesitated again. "Would you mind listening to me practice a piece? I've got to go to a recording tomorrow and I wouldn't mind having a critical listener."

Harry looked up at him, surprised.

"Yes," he said. "That would be wonderful."

Draco led the way upstairs. The first door on the landing clearly led to Scorpius's room; it had 'KEEP OUT' and 'WARNING: NUCLEAR SITE' stickers all over it. A second door further along presumably led to Draco's room. But there was only a single door on the other side of the hallway, and it was this one Draco unlocked and gestured for Harry to enter.

The room was spacious and in one corner was unused furniture, draped in white sheets. The large windows had no curtains, showcasing a beautiful view over the fields of Tulip Hill. In one corner was a mess of music sheets, a well-worn chair, and couple of broken music stands. In pride of the place was a large stand holding a beautiful cello. Draco closed the door behind Harry and allowed him to gaze around in silence.

"You're a cellist?"

"Yes. My father had a fit. He wanted me to learn fencing but after many tantrums he relented and paid for cello lessons instead," Draco said, smiling faintly

Harry wandered over to the music stand and saw a stubby pencil balanced on the stand and a sheet of music paper, music notes filling half of it.

"You compose?"

"Not often, and not well," Draco shrugged. "I'll have to warm her up."

"Her?"

"My cello."

"Oh."

Harry watched as Draco settled himself onto the chair and balanced the cello delicately on its endpoint, running the long bow across the strings and going through scales. Harry could feel the deep and beautiful thrum of the cello through the floorboards. Draco went through all the scales a few times, then paused and began sifting through music, eventually finding the piece he wanted and settling it on the stand.

And he played.

Harry was entranced. He found himself mesmerised by Draco's hands; between the pegbox and the neck, his fingers moved gracefully across the strings. Sometimes they danced lightly and quickly, so fast that Harry thought he should surely slip up (though he never did). Sometimes his fingers stayed still for a long time as he drew out a long and melancholy note. His other hand, resting on the bow, was always adjusting itself; Harry watched the strong tendons in his wrist change and flex as he applied different pressures and changed the movement of the bow.

He never took his eyes off the music, not until he had completed the last and longest note. Then he looked up, briefly, at Harry.

"That was really beautiful," Harry said honestly. "I loved watching your hands move."

"Room for improvement?" Draco asked briskly, preparing to put the cello away.

"Absolutely none."

"I messed up the bit in the middle, I had to improvise until I found my place again," Draco said critically.

"It was perfect."

"And at the end, I didn't use my index finger for the A, I ended up having to do a lot of fancy work to get my fingers back into position in time for C," Draco said.

"It was perfect," Harry insisted. "Absolutely perfect."

And at last, Draco allowed himself a small smile.

"I suppose," he said, "it was half-decent."

Harry shook his head and laughed.

Draco made up the couch downstairs whilst Harry hung around and ate his way through some leftover Christmas snacks. It looked as though Draco and Scorpius had made sugar biscuits and iced them; Harry could tell only too clearly who had iced which biscuits. There were green Christmas trees with tiny iced baubles and thin lines of brightly-coloured icing, and angels with yellow wings and creases iced across their sweeping dresses – only too clearly the work of Draco's focussed eyes and careful hands. On the other hand, there were stars and bells energetically splashed with random blobs of colour. One bell looked as though someone had just mixed all the colours together, producing an odd grey shade, and dunked the biscuit in it.

"He got bored towards the end."

Harry smiled and looked up at Draco. "Bit of a short attention span."

Draco snorted. "That's putting it mildly."

Harry moved towards the couch and Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To...bed?" Harry asked, confused.

"I'm taking the couch. You're going upstairs."

Draco ignored all of Harry's indignant protests.

"Absolutely not. You're a guest, I'm not about to put you on the couch."

"I'm not a guest, I just imposed," Harry tried, but Draco was having none of it and Harry found himself led upstairs, whereupon Draco pushed open his bedroom door and waited for Harry to walk in.

"If you need anything, help yourself," Draco said, and with that he clicked the door closed and walked away.

Harry listened to his footsteps fade and looked around him. He was expecting a green room, a Slytherin green, but it wasn't. It was painted in neutral tones, with soft lighting, and that's what Harry decided he liked the best, the soft glow. As with the rest of the house, there was a singular and large window, the curtains yet to be drawn. He walked to the window, staring out. At first he saw his reflection staring back at him, but when he focussed he saw the lights of houses below in the valley, gradually petering out into the darkness of the hills behind them. And where the darkness of the hills ended, the brightness of the sky took over, the stars cold and white high above him.

He stayed there for a long time, looking out at the beautiful world. Then he turned and closed the soft curtains, taking in Draco's room. It was very simple and minimal: bed, bedside table, dresser, writing desk. There was a laptop and a notepad on the writing desk; Harry glanced at the notepad and caught sight of familiar handwriting. Dear Harry. So it was here Draco sat, facing the beautiful view over the valley, penning his letters to Harry.

Harry walked away from the writing desk. Draco's room held few other things besides the furniture. There was a small alcove built into the wall above Draco's bed, which he had lined with books, all which looked very battered and well-thumbed. They were stacked higgledy-piggledy, balancing precariously on each other, and Harry examined the titles. Bleak House, Frankenstein, The Great Gatsby, Snow Falling On Cedars, Heart of Darkness, The Lighthouse. Draco was certainly well-read, he couldn't deny it. However, the book he was currently reading was The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and Harry had to smile. It was oddly endearing, Draco's book collection; something that made the youngest Death-Eater an ordinary person. Human after all.

Harry smiled to himself and stripped down to his boxers, folding his clothes neatly and placing them over the chair by the end table. He placed his mobile phone, wallet and keys and, lastly, spectacles, upon Draco's bedside table and slipped between the covers, his head sinking into the soft pillows. And within five minutes, he had drifted contentedly into a deep sleep, the best he'd had for a long time.

He woke up, blinking. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, soft and yellow, and he blindly felt around for his spectacles.

When he could see again, he glanced at the clock on the bedside table, then did a double take. Midday? Already? It couldn't be. He never slept that long. Someone knocked at the door and he called out tentatively.

"Yes?"

"May I come in?"

"Yeah." Harry said as the door opened. "Sorry, I never sleep this long usually. I guess I was just really tired last night."

"Don't worry about it," Draco said casually. "I'm sorry to wake you, I just need my wallet and keys."

"You didn't wake me," Harry assured him.

"Do you want a shower? I know I can never wake up properly without a shower," Draco confessed, and Harry smiled.

"Yeah, that'd be good. Where're the towels?"

"In the cupboard under the bathroom sink," Draco said. "Help yourself to soap and shampoo. I don't have conditioner, it does terrible things to my hair."

Harry laughed. "Thanks. I'll try to make it quick."

"Don't worry about it, everyone else has had their shower. Take as long as you want," Draco said, examining his wallet critically as Harry got out of bed, sleepily wandering past Draco and out into the hallway.

Draco remained standing by the dresser for a long moment, flipping through the wallet until he found the receipt he wanted. He turned to leave, then glanced back at the room one more time and impulsively went to the window. He always loved the view from this room best.

His breath misted across the cold glass, showing fingerprints imprinted on the glass. Harry had stood here last night and gazed at the stars. Draco did not wipe the fingerprints away. He wanted proof. Proof Harry had been here, standing and looking at the stars, as Draco did night after night. Proof Harry too was drawn to the night sky, that he loved its beauty.

Proof Harry was human, after all.

Ginny was smiling, wearing her white summer dress even though it was the middle of winter. Although Harry's house was comfortably warm, he felt the need to throw a blanket round her shoulders.

"Hey," Ginny said quietly, standing barefoot in his living room.

"You must be mad, wearing that in the middle of winter," Harry said, gesturing at her dress.

"What, this? Oh, yes, but it's my absolute favourite," Ginny said, smiling. Harry said nothing, spinning one of his keychains around. Ginny looked up at him, smiling hopefully, brightly, but when he refused to meet her eyes, her smile faded a little.

"Look, Harry, I can understand why you're so angry with me. But honestly, I must have been a mess after the Battle. Why else would I take all my memories away?"

You weren't a mess, Harry thought. You were grim and determined and strong and steady. But now...

He watched her, twirling in the middle of the floor, her white dress billowing around her. Now she was as thin and unsubstantial as a puff of breath, as a white dandelion caught on a breeze, tumbling along.

"I love it, I feel seventeen again," Ginny said. "Harry, we could be so happy." She looked up at him, smiling. A seventeen-year-old in love all over again. He looked at her, seeing her bright, brown eyes brimming with youth, her copper-coloured hair flying free as though she was a child, her red lips curved into a perfect smile.

"Well?" Ginny said impatiently, and he looked at her, his face softening. Ginny laughed then, bunching her lovely white dress in her fists, overcome with hope and confidence. But Harry made no movement, no motion.

"Harry?" she asked, a tendril of doubt wrapping around her voice. She let go of her dress.

"White doesn't suit you," he said quietly, and left.

"I think Harry's broken up with Ginny," Teddy said, pouring a bowl of cereal. Draco glanced at him.

"Good," Scorpius said with satisfaction, sneaking another teaspoon of sugar over his cornflakes. "No offence, but I don't like her, she's fucking weird."

"I don't like her either," Teddy said quickly. "But she's alright. She was always trying hard to be friends with me."

"That's what I mean, she tries too hard," Scorpius said. "Did you hear them fighting?"

"No," Teddy said. "Ginny said a lot of things, but Harry didn't say anything. Except at the very end, and he said white didn't suit her."

"That's a weird thing to say," Scorpius scoffed, sneaking another teaspoon.

Teddy shrugged. "I suppose."

Draco said nothing, removing the sugarbowl well out of Scorpius's reach.

White doesn't suit you.

He heard the words clearly as though he'd witnessed the entire scene. He could hear Harry's quiet, firm voice. Harry wouldn't yell. Harry knew when to shout and when to whisper, and Draco liked that.

"I'm sorry about you and Ginny."

"Are you? I'm not," Harry said, eating one of the last candy canes from Draco's tree.

"Well, I'm sorry you had to experience the turmoil and hurt of a broken relationship."

"Experiences build the person," Harry said, echoing Draco's words said so long ago. "I think it's made me think differently. And that's good."

"Think differently?" Draco asked.

"You know, it's bad luck if you leave your Christmas tree up over New Year's," Harry pointed out.

"I'm not a superstitious person."

Harry laughed. "I am. I look for four-leaf clovers. I always look for the first star of the night..."

"That's not superstition," Draco said. "That's like looking for the first leaves of spring, or the kindest smile in an unfamiliar place."

"The first star is always Venus," Harry said. "The first leaf of spring always comes from the poplar. Who does the kindest smile in the room belong to?"

Draco said nothing. Harry negotiated the tricky hook-shaped part of the candy cane.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Forgive me and my whimsical questions." He paused. "We're nearly up to New Year's Eve."

"And you'll be going back to Hogwarts," Draco said softly.

"Yes. I'll be going back to Hogwarts," Harry repeated.

They stood in silence for a while.

Draco wished all the spring leaves to never return, for the poplar to be buried under snow, for Venus to die away into darkness; but yet they lived whilst a smile ceased.

Harry leant his forehead against the cool glass of the car window, watching the darkening sky.

"Missing Ginny?" Teddy asked.

"Yes."

"Did she tell you a lie?"

"Yes."

"That wasn't very nice of her," Teddy observed. Harry sighed, finally glancing across at Teddy.

"She was just trying to make her life better."

Teddy unbuckled his seatbelt and produced a tiny trunk in his hand, waiting for Harry to perform an enlargement charm on it, carefully opening the door and placing it on the pavement in preparation.

"Did she?"

"Did she what?" Harry asked, performing the spell.

"Did she make her life better?"

Harry thought. "I don't know, Teddy. I really don't know."

Teddy nodded and walked away, disappearing into the Kings Cross crowd. Harry prepared for the long drive home.

Alone again, he thought.

Overhead, the heavens opened and the rain poured down.

Scorpius was being a nightmare.

"Fucking stupid fucking thing — "

"Malfoy," Harry said warningly, but Scorpius glared.

"Well I can't fucking do it, sir, the stupid fucking..."

"Just be patient and practise, you won't get it straight away," Harry said, knowing he had said these words hundreds of times to Scorpius and, as always, it was advice Scorpius refused to follow.

"I can't, it's bloody impossible," Scorpius said angrily, and threw his textbook across the room. It hit Dobson in the head and he snarled.

Harry sighed.

There was a loud and brief knock at Harry's door before Scorpius burst in two seconds later, without waiting for a reply. At least he'd taught him to knock, Harry thought tiredly.

"Yes, Scorpius?"

"I got a letter from Dad," Scorpius said excitedly. "First in ages. You gotta read it, sir, and explain it to me. Coz I asked him a question, but the answer's damn long."

Harry frowned. Draco's answers were never long.

"Alright," he said reluctantly, and pulled the letter towards him. To his surprise, there was no date, address and title, as Draco usually and meticulously included. It seemed to open straight into a fairytale:

Once upon a time there was a strange little world which had no light and all the occupants lived in darkness. In this dark world there were three brother wolves, Bene, Vikt and Cygnus. One day when the brothers were out hunting they found a young princess weeping by a fir tree, for she was lost and did not know the way home.

The brothers felt sorry for her and offered to lead her home. "For we can see easily into the darkness," they said, "and we promise not to harm you."

The princess was very frightened but the wolves kept their promise and delivered her safely to her father, the King, who was very grateful. "I must repay you," he said to the wolves.

"Tell me," he asked Vikt, the oldest, "what do you desire the most?"

"I desire gold and topaz," Vikt said. "Their colour is bright and brings warmth to my heart."

So the King created the sun. "The sun will bring warmth, and is far brighter than any gold I can offer," he said. "But every twelve hours, the sun must rest a while before rising again."

Vikt thanked the King very much and left. Next, the King asked Bene what his heart's desire was.

"I desire silver and diamonds," Bene replied, "for they are beautiful and their coolness soothes my mind."

So the King created the stars. "The stars are more beautiful than any diamond I can offer," he said, "but during the day they will fade, because the sun will diminish their loveliness."

But Bene was happy and thanked the King before following Vikt home. The King then looked at Cygnus and said, "What do you desire, littlest wolf? What pretty trinkets does your heart yearn for?"

But Cygnus shook his head. "There are no jewels I seek, and no trinkets I want," he said. "All I wish for is a companion, for my brothers rarely talk to me and I grow lonely."

"Very well," said the King. "In that case, your companion must match your gentleness and compassion. The fox will not suit you, he is too sly and wicked. The crow will not suit you, he is too fickle. The bear will not suit you, he is too ill-tempered. So I will grant you the company of my daughter, the princess."

"But she is human," Cygnus said. "She will not desire a wolf companion."

"Ah," said the King. "And you are right. So you shall be a human." He clapped his hands once, and Cygnus instantly became a handsome youth. "Beware, every twenty-nine days," the King warned, "you will revert to wolf-form. But I will give you a companion during this time, so you may not feel too lonely." And he created the moon, to keep Cygnus company in wolf-form.

And so the brother wolves lived. Cygnus had the princess and the moon, Vikt had the sun and Bene the stars. And it was generally agreed that Cygnus had the two most beautiful things of all.

Harry placed the letter down again gently. "What was the question?" he asked.

"Not really a question," Scorpius admitted. "I just sort of wrote to him, all annoyed coz we just had a full moon and I told him I hate being a werewolf and everyone thinks we're horrible creatures." He hesitated. "Dad used to tell me that story when I was a kid, but it's been ages since he told it."

"I suppose he thought it relevant," Harry said. "He's trying to tell you that you've got a gift."

"I ain't got no princess," Scorpius said suspiciously.

"No, what he means is, you've got — you've got Teddy and Leo, and you've got the moon," Harry said.

"Yeah, alright, I can see the Teddy and Leo bit," Scorpius said. "But why the moon? What's so good about it?"

"Er..." Harry struggled. "You shouldn't think of it as something that makes you a werewolf, but something that suffers through the isolation with you, that waxes and wanes with your human form."

"Oh," was all Scorpius said, before collecting his textbooks.

"Didn't you want to write a reply?" Harry asked.

"Nah. I gotta think about it for a bit."

Scorpius never thought about anything. Harry raised an eyebrow but said nothing as Scorpius quietly left. He picked up his quill and resumed his writing:

...by the way, your son just interrupted my writing (rudely, as usual, but I'll forgive him on account of his most interesting news...). He just showed me a particularly interesting tale, penned by none other than yourself. Then he asked me what it meant. Please don't send any more such stories, as I have no idea how to explain your riddles...

And although Harry didn't ask, he felt as though Draco had written that story for two people.