"How'd you know?"

"Hm?"

"How'd you know about the ring?"

Potter shrugged as he pulled his knees up to his chest. "It had your family's insignia on it. I know pure-bloods love their family stuff."

Draco eyed him skeptically. It was a flimsy excuse. "Oh?"

Potter rested his chin on his knees. He wasn't looking at Draco. "It looks different when it's not covered in blood."

Draco's brow furrowed briefly before he realized what Potter was talking about. Subtly he pressed a hand against where he knew one of the more prominent scars rested under his shirt. I forgot I had been wearing it that day. Not knowing what to say in reply, he turned his gaze back to the nature documentary they were watching. It featured animals of various ecosystems but was currently playing to act as background noise more than entertainment.

After Draco had regained consciousness, they had each changed into pajamas and silently agreed not to separate. They had made their way to the living room and were now lounging comfortably with mugs of hot cocoa in their hands and a blanket shared between them in front of the same telly they had sat in front of during that one Sunday's Incident.

Neither of them commented on the room or the familiarity of the situation.

"Orcas are apex predators, at the top of the food chain. Killer whales feed on sea birds, squid, octopuses, sea turtles, sharks, rays, and fish. They also eat marine animals, such as seals and dugongs," the documentary's narrator recited.

"How'd you know blowing it up would help?"

"I didn't," Potter replied, still not looking at him. "But I've been known to lash out when I've had an attack and thought maybe it could help you."

"You always did seem to have anger issues."

"Well, it didn't help that I had the voice of a Dark Wizard constantly in my head."

Draco sipped at his cocoa.

"Average-sized killer whales may eat about 227 kilograms of food a day."

He traced the rim of his mug with a finger. "If I hadn't nearly gotten myself blown up…would you have reached out to me after Sunday?"

Potter didn't answer for a long moment.

"Killer whales will often act in social groups known as 'pods' to surround and attack a larger mammal like another type of whale. They will chase, bite, or try to drown the large mammal until it gets worn down enough for them to finish it off and consume it."

"I wrote letters…they all sucked," Potter mumbled under his breath. His cheeks took on a light blush at the confession when Draco glanced at him. "Nothing sounded right."

Draco made a noise of consideration in response and turned back to the documentary. Without looking at Potter, he said, "I'm sorry."

"Okay."

"Killer whales have only one predator in the wild: man."

Draco found his gaze drifting back to examine Potter. Despite his relaxed form, Potter looked guarded. Draco frowned. He wanted to break through that guard and connect with him. He wanted Potter to know that he truly was sorry for everything. "At the time, I didn't think I could maintain a friendship with you without forming an attraction. I still don't think I can."

Potter's jaw clenched briefly before he asked, "Do you still think I'm beneath you because I'm not a pure-blood?"

"No." He opened his mouth to elaborate but then closed it.

XXXX

If he's not going to say anything further about it then I'm not either. No point in getting rejected twice in this room. I'll start thinking the space is cursed.

The documentary switched from discussing Arctic creatures to wildlife found in parts of Southeast Asia – specifically creatures found in Indonesia – and Harry found himself genuinely interested in what was happening on the screen. It was a nice distraction from thinking about where their conversation had been heading.

"The ultimate killers," he whispered in awe as a komodo dragon appeared on the screen.

He saw Malfoy raise an eyebrow from his peripheral vision. "A killer whale could easily kill a komodo dragon if it needed or wanted to," the blond deadpanned.

"Well, sure, probably, but these things are still insane." Harry adjusted so that his left shoulder was pressed against the back of the couch and his upper-half was turned toward Malfoy. "After seeing the crazy creatures that exist in the Wizarding World, I tend to forget that there are perfectly crazy, non-magical creatures existing on our planet."

"'Probably?'"

Harry ignored him. "Did you know that they can run over 40 miles per hour? And that they can climb trees? Can a killer whale climb a tree?"

Malfoy stared at him blankly. "It wouldn't have to climb a tree. You enter its waters and it will kill you before you have the time to think about trees. Or land for that matter."

Harry rested his head against the back of the couch. He had lost track of time but didn't feel particularly hungry. "Okay…but they're still pretty cool. They can consume eighty percent of their body weight in one sitting."

"I thought all Potters were jocks, not nerds."

"Right, because 'hidden nerdiness' is your specialty."

"I'm not a nerd."

"You study potions. You're a nerd."

Malfoy scoffed. "You're the one with proficiency in animal studies! How do you know so much about them anyway? I don't remember you performing particularly well in Care of Magical Creatures."

"If I remember correctly, and I do, I'm not the one who nearly got killed by a Hippogriff."

"You just had to bring that up."

Harry smirked. It was easy to talk like this and about stuff like this. Nothing deep or soul-wrenching. Nothing about failed not-dates or broken hearts or blood purity. "Before attending Hogwarts, I went to a Muggle school. For science class, we often had to do reports on animals. I chose komodo dragons once and the information stuck with me. I like watching things about nature after an attack. It's…calming. Reminds me that there's more to the world than magic and Voldemort and the Dark Arts."

Malfoy was quiet for a moment as he contemplated Harry's words. Had the blond never considered that Harry would have gone to a regular, Muggle, public school before?

"Komodo dragons are closely related to snakes, right? Could you talk to one if you met one in real life?"

"Oh. Well, maybe, but I lost the Parseltongue ability when Voldemort died."

That damned eyebrow quirked again. "But you still have the scar."

Harry nodded, taking another sip of his cocoa. "Some things went away…others didn't."

Silence stretched between them.

The memory of seeing Malfoy's half-naked body earlier in the day hadn't left his mind and despite not wanting to turn the nature of the conversation to something serious, Harry felt compelled to ask, "Do they hurt?"

"Does what hurt?"

"The scars."

"Not anymore." Malfoy gave him a level look. "Do yours?"

The wording of the question implied that Harry had obtained more than one notable mark during the years of Voldemort's reign of terror and he felt a bit surprised by the question. Surely Malfoy had never seen the burn mark on his chest or the old gashes on his back. But he felt that Malfoy had been more honest than usual with him tonight so he felt inclined to answer the question truthfully.

"Not anymore. This scar –" he pointed to his forehead "– doesn't burn or sting the way it used to when Voldemort was doing stuff. But I have a burn mark from one of the Horcruxes that sometimes itches. It's more of an annoyance than anything else, though."

Malfoy nodded in understanding. "I…have nightmares where I'm bleeding out or suffocating or dying in some manner beyond my control but…when I wake up, the scars don't hurt me. They're just…there." He pulled up his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark. "This never moves or hurts. I keep waiting – keep expecting to see it move but it doesn't. It doesn't."

Harry watched him pull his sleeve back down before looking back at the telly. "I get that."

"Female komodo dragons can reproduce without having sex. The reproduction from an ovum without fertilization is known as parthenogenesis."

"Bet that would make your whole 'needing to carry on the family line' issue a lot easier," Harry remarked. He realized it might have come across as crass and he quickly looked over at Malfoy. But the blond was giving a small half-smile. Slowly the grin fell, though, and the blond's expression darkened.

"I hadn't expected my father to be in such a rough shape when I went there. Malfoys are strong, proud creatures. We…fight against the odds to carry on. It's our way of life. Dominance and control…" Malfoy trailed off for a minute as his gaze fell to the floor. "I tried to hide my own mixed emotions about the assassination attempt from myself, figuring that seeing my father well would prove that I'm…I don't know – doing something right?" He sighed as he lowered his empty mug to the table. "I thought seeing him would grant reassurance that I'm on the right path. But I just felt more lost than ever." He frowned. "It was overwhelming. If I had been the only target and survived then it would have been no matter. Plenty of people have tried and failed to kill me before. But my parents were targeted. And in the future, the person I marry will be targeted. My children will be targeted. I thought I could handle that knowledge and responsibility on my own but…" Grey eyes met green before glancing away. "I know I'm probably not making much sense to you. But you should know that I…I told my mother I wouldn't follow in my father's path and marry a pure-blood for the sake of tradition."

Harry had chosen the wrong moment to take a sip of his cocoa and choked on the liquid at Malfoy's words. Clearing his throat, he spluttered, "What?"

The blond gave a small shrug and suddenly Malfoy seemed a lot smaller to Harry. "The madness had started seeping in before he got poisoned. It's partially why I chose the field of dementia to study. I thought that by creating a potion to help mind sickness, I could help make him see reason again. But Mother told me that my cure wasn't working. When I heard him spouting all of that rubbish, I..." Malfoy picked the empty mug back up and moved it between his hands, needing something to hold. "Selfishly, I ran instead of asking the doctors about different medicines to try. A proper son would have tried to find a different cure instead of running away. All I ever wanted was to make him proud but…I failed him. Again. Again and again I fail him."

"Couldn't you try talking to the doctors again?"

Malfoy shook his head. "Mother said that they're doing everything they can but nothing seems to be working." His gaze darkened. "He chose his path and refused to alter it. Voldemort fed off of my father's hatred for Muggles and inspired that hatred to grow. Now he's sick in the mind because of it and…and I don't want to be like him. I don't want hatred to cloud my vision. I don't want to be known for the rest of my life as someone who enjoys torturing and murdering Muggles. That's not me. Not anymore."

Harry's mind was reeling. "Malfoy, what are you –"

"I want to return to work at the Ministry. I want to keep discovering new ways to help people who are in need of it. I think you were right when you said that I won't find happiness by conforming to tradition. Nearly getting blown up helped me realize that." He took a breath. "At this rate, I don't think my father will ever truly be happy because of the hatred he harbors. I'm angry but I can't let that stop me from trying to do right by you and the rest of the world." His eyes finally met Harry's and the dark-haired boy felt rooted to the spot. "I am sorry. I feel like I'm continuously causing you pain and I don't want to. I thought that if I ran from you then I'd spare us both heartache. But I guess I suck at running away."

Harry didn't know what to say.

But he knew what he wanted to do.

Slowly, he shuffled closer on the couch so that he could reach Malfoy. Stretching out, he placed a gentle hand on Malfoy's knee and met his eyes.

"That's…a lot to process but…I'm proud of you for standing up for your own happiness. And I forgive you, for what it's worth."

Malfoy rolled his eyes but he was smiling a bit. "You never were known for your quick wit, Potter." He moved Harry's hand off of his knee and placed it on the couch between them but kept his hand over Harry's.

Warmth seeped through him and Harry smiled, despite still trying to wrap his brain around all that Malfoy had just told him. "So…so you stood up to your parents? You did that after what, like, two weeks of being asleep?"

"Weren't expecting it, were you?"

"No, not really, no."

Malfoy gave a small chuckle.

XXXX

Harry was shocked, to say the least. He had given up hope on Malfoy turning against the tide of tradition. In fact, Harry had mentally prepared to see Malfoy pack his bags and leave after the night was over. But the pure-blood didn't seem to have any intention of leaving.

Harry didn't know what to say.

Malfoy still hadn't moved his hand off of Harry's.

A flurry of hope rushed through his chest but he couldn't act on it. Malfoy had just opened up to him and he didn't want to be accused of taking advantage. Not again. Clearing his throat, Harry nodded but couldn't seem to find the words to voice a line of thought. Luckily, Malfoy saved him the embarrassment of possibly running his mouth by admitting, "I didn't say everything I wanted to say and I'm sure the matter isn't settled but I haven't been burned off of that family tapestry downstairs yet so I guess it's a start."

"What did your mom say?"

"She didn't understand. But I think, with time, she will. I don't know. There's a lot that I haven't told her. And I'm honestly too exhausted to think too deeply about it right now."

"Do you want me to turn this off?" Harry asked, nodding at the television.

Malfoy shook his head. "Not yet. Let's watch another episode."

XXXX

When Draco opened his eyes, the first thing he realized was that his head was not resting on a regular pillow. From his line of sight, he could see a body next to his and ascertained that his head was resting on a shoulder.

Potter's shoulder.

He must have drifted closer to the Chosen One over the course of the evening and fallen asleep beside him. A blush rose to his cheeks. Should I move? He'd probably disturb Potter with the motion and the last thing he wanted was for Potter to wake up and discover that Draco was a cuddler. Plus Potter was snoring peacefully and Draco didn't have the heart to wake him. How long has it been since he's had a proper night's rest? Potter's head was resting comfortably against Draco's. Despite the quickening of his heartbeat, Draco stayed perfectly still and tried to relax. His gaze traveled down the portion of Potter's body that he could see from the tilted angle and found the Chosen One's right hand resting loosely on Draco's left leg. He stared at the appendage and wondered if Potter could feel his body heat in his sleep. But he truly was exhausted and before long, Draco felt his eyes closing and his mind drifting off to sleep once more.

XXXX

The next time he awoke, Draco found himself lying across the couch with the blanket covering his entire body. A real pillow was tucked under his head and Potter was nowhere to be found. Blinking away the grogginess of sleep, he sat up and took in his surroundings. The mugs from last night had been cleared away, probably by the house-elves. He wondered if his brief awakening on Potter's shoulder had been a dream.

Suddenly, Seelba appeared with a few more of the Malfoy family house-elves in tow. They carried in a large tray of food with bacon, pancakes, and an omelet to greet him.

"Master needs to eat lots to regain his strength," Seelba informed him, placing the trays on the table in front of him. "Master has not had a proper breakfast in a long time."

Since before the attack, at any rate.

"I was not expecting this," Draco replied, sitting up and moving to perch on the edge of the couch. Whether he meant the food or waking up alone or falling asleep beside Potter in the first place, he wasn't sure. How long had he spent with his head on Potter's shoulder? Had the house-elves seen them? He was fairly certain that none of his house-elves would dare say anything smart about it. Tradition would probably prevent Kreacher from saying anything either. But Draco couldn't be certain. He scrutinized his servants. Seelba and the other house-elves seemed to be acting normally. Maybe Potter had woken up and left the room before they could be spotted?

"Thank you for this." He picked up a glass of juice and tried to ask casually, "Is Potter around?"

"He's on the phone downstairs. He spoke with the Minister earlier but now he's speaking with a Sir Longbottom."

"Why'd he call the Minister?"

"He didn't call him. The Minister called here. From what Seelba could hear, Sir Potter updated the Minister on Master's health and asked about when Master can return to work. He was inquiring on behalf of you, Master."

Draco felt a funny feeling inside. "He inquired on behalf of me? Why? I'm perfectly capable of calling Shacklebolt myself now that I'm awake."

"Seelba thinks Sir Potter did not want to wake Master. Seelba thinks Sir Potter figured he was already talking to the Minister and might as well ask while he had the Minister on the line. Seelba does not think Sir Potter meant any ill intent."

Master Draco thinks Seelba seems to have taken a shining for Sir Potter, Draco thought bitterly as he sipped his juice. Master Draco wonders if he should scalp Seelba now or later.

Seelba fidgeted. "Sir Potter wanted to surprise you if the news was good. By what he said, it seems like you can return to work whenever you are feeling able, Master." The house-elf frowned. "Seelba probably should not have told Master then if it was supposed to be a surprise."

Draco felt torn between wanting to be angry that Potter was still doing things for him and being touched that Potter had wanted to surprise him with something like this. It meant that Potter had really listened to him last night and understood what he had been trying to say. If Seelba had heard correctly and Draco really was able to return to work whenever he wanted to, then one of Draco's main worries would be lifted.

"Are you sure that you heard correctly, Seelba?"

The house-elf nodded. "Seelba is pretty certain, Master. But Sir Potter will probably be up to talk to you after he gets off the phone. You should eat before your food gets cold."

XXXX

He finished eating and started making his way to his bedroom to grab a fresh pair of clothes for the new day when Potter's voice traveled up the stairs to meet him. The sound momentarily paralyzed him as memories of how good Potter's body felt beside his hit him. Draco blinked and moved closer to the staircase on instinct. Potter was still on the phone and had his back facing Draco. He didn't want to eavesdrop on Potter but something caused him to press against the wall and hide in the shadows.

"I don't understand why you can't just ask me whatever it is that you want to ask me when you come home for Christmas. If it's so bloody important then just ask me now for Merlin's sake." Potter was quiet for a moment as he listened to the reply from the other end of the line. "Yes, I know all of that but –" He was cut off and Draco could tell by the way those shoulders tensed that it was not a pleasant conversation for Potter. "All right, I'll come. But only if they still serve pumpkin juice." Potter paused to listen before saying his goodbyes and hanging up. From where he lingered, Draco heard the Chosen One call for Kreacher. The house-elf appeared beside the hero and Draco heard Potter say, "I need you to do a few things for me, Kreach."

The house-elf bowed his head.

"I'm not sure how long I'll be gone for but I imagine it won't be longer than a few hours. Can you feed Hootia and give her some extra treats while I'm gone?"

"Certainly, Master."

"And I'll need my winter boots and robes just in case the weather turns foul."

"Of course."

"And…" Potter shifted his stance and turned to face the stairwell. Draco quickly pressed closer against the wall to hide. He couldn't see Potter from the new angle but he heard him say quietly, "Never mind. I'll tell him."

XXXX

Harry didn't want any of the house-elves inhabiting the townhouse telling Malfoy where he was going – he wanted to tell the pure-blood himself. He had woken up with his head resting against Malfoy and their hands intertwined. While it had felt wonderful, Harry couldn't help but blush at the memory. He hadn't planned on falling asleep beside Malfoy. He hadn't planned on cuddling the blond. Thank Merlin he had woken up before Malfoy. Harry couldn't imagine what fun the blond would have poked at him if he had discovered how much Harry loved to cuddle.

He made his way up the stairs and found Malfoy looking for a fresh set of clothes in his bedroom. The blond didn't turn around as he asked, "Plans for the day?"

Harry shuffled into the doorway and leaned against the frame. His gaze raked over Malfoy's figure, pausing briefly on the shapely form of Malfoy's bum. Realizing he was blatantly checking out his houseguest, Harry blinked and replied, "Yeah…Neville called. He wrote to me earlier in the week but I've been ignoring it. He said he has something important to ask me. I'm not sure what it is."

"Isn't he at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah."

Malfoy stilled in his movement and turned to meet Harry's eyes. Those grey orbs were inspective as he asked, "And you're going?"

"Unfortunately."

A minute passed.

"Shall I –"

"No," Harry interrupted quickly, "I'm fine. It's fine. He said it's urgent but not life-threatening. And we're meeting in Hogsmeade, not the castle. I'll be Glamoured."

Malfoy didn't look convinced. "You accompanied me to the hospital. It's the least I –"

"Seriously, Malfoy. It's okay. This is something I need to do on my own, I think."

"If you're sure…"

"I am. Oh, Shacklebolt called this morning," Harry began. He crossed his arms and looked away. "You were still asleep and I didn't want to wake you." He tried to fight the blush as he focused on his words. "He was just checking in. I told him you were awake from your mini-coma and coherent and doing standard magic. He seemed pleased. He also said that you're welcome to return to work whenever you're feeling up to it. 'Mione will probably greet you whenever you return."

"Granger? Why?"

"Seelba didn't tell you?"

An eyebrow quirked.

"Shacklebolt's named Hermione his successor. She starts training this week."

Malfoy turned back to his dresser and withdrew his clothing for the day. His tone remained steady as he asked, "Was it a political stunt or is he truly supportive of her?"

Harry frowned. "Hermione's worked hard to make it to the top. She's spent three years earning this."

"Other Ministry employees have spent decades earning it and even more personnel haven't had as many disastrous failures as she's experienced lately. Minister for Magic is not a position that should be handed out freely. I can't imagine she won't be targeted."

"What happened with Matthias Scatterly wasn't her fault –"

"No but she did let him escape long enough to ensure four Ministry of Magic employees were killed. And now Shacklebolt's making her the future Minister. I can't imagine many folks will be pleased with this move. She should decline the offer if she has half as much sense as I once thought she had."

Harry felt his hackles rise and opened his mouth to fight back when he saw a vein pulsing on the side of Malfoy's forehead and noticed the blond's hands were clenched in the fabric of his clothing. Harry blinked and asked, "Wait. You're worried about her…aren't you?"

Malfoy scoffed. "Please. As if I'd care about that annoying mud-blood." He slammed the dresser drawer shut. "I just think that someone as intelligent as her would be able to recognize a terrible decision like this one. She'll be dead within the year if she continues on this path."

Harry stepped further into the room. "She's well-guarded and highly advanced with magic."

"They said my father was well-guarded too but assassins still got to him." A beat of silence passed and Malfoy shook his head. "She's being stupid and selfish. You should talk some sense into her before she gets killed." He turned away from the dresser and flicked his hair over his shoulder. "Regardless, I am glad that I have permission to return to work. It will be good to resume my projects."

Ignoring the brief uneasiness, Harry asked, "Are you ready to go back? You don't have to –"

"I know. But I need to go back. It will help with…everything."

"What are you going to do today?"

"I have a feeling I have more things to burn that were once in great connection to Voldemort. It will be cathartic to go through it all."

"So…you're feeling all right, then? No nausea or dizziness?"

Malfoy flicked his head and his bangs shifted over his eyes. "You can't use your sickly housemate as an excuse to get out of seeing Longbottom."

Harry pursed his lips. "Are you sure? Because spending the day lounging around this place burning stuff with you sounds way better than going back there."

"I would think fighting a centaur would be better than going back there…especially considering they still inhabit the Forbidden Forest."

"For something that was entitled 'Forbidden' we went there an awful lot."

Malfoy was smiling. It was small but genuine and eased some of the tension from their discussion about Hermione. Knowing he was responsible for putting Malfoy at ease put a funny feeling in Harry's stomach. He grinned back.

"I have a feeling if you hadn't been the rule-breaker you were in school then you wouldn't be called the Boy Who Lived anymore."

"You have a point." His gaze drifted down to Malfoy's chest and remembered the scars hidden beneath the pajama shirt. He wondered if he would be able to see them again. "Will you be all right here? It seems like neither of us has had a moment to chill in a while."

"You're forgetting that I only woke up from my two week nap yesterday." The blond stepped forward and into Harry's personal space. His hair was mussed from the couch and Harry longed to run his fingers through it. It was nice seeing Malfoy in disheveled pajamas and not dressed to the nines. It made him more human.

Dropping his gaze to the floor, Harry fought the blush that threatened to take over his face. Now was not the time for such thoughts. He had to fetch his things from Kreacher and leave for Hogsmeade.

A gentle index finger startled him when it lifted Harry's chin so his eyes met Malfoy's.

"It's sweet of you to worry – truly – but I'll be fine, Potter. I have no plans of risking my life today by disturbing the peace."

Harry's stomach flipped at the way Malfoy was looking at him with that small smile on his lips. It would be so easy to lean in and kiss him. His gaze flittered down to those lips. "Promise?"

XXXX

Potter's lips had no business looking so inviting when they moved around the request. Draco wanted to lean in and reassure Potter physically but he couldn't. Not because of tradition but because Potter looked so vulnerable in that moment – Draco didn't want to spook him before the hero vanished. However, he did stroke the underside of Potter's chin once before pulling his hand away and nodding. "Promise."

Potter seemed pleased with his reply and nodded in return. Merlin, that smile is breathtaking. Draco watched him turn and leave the room. He listened as Potter's footsteps traveled down the hall, down the staircase, paused to retrieve his things from Kreacher, and journeyed out the front door.

For a long moment after Potter had left, Draco simply stood there and wondered when he could get his hands on Potter again.

XXXX

He had agreed to meet Neville at Hogsmeade rather than the castle. Apparating outside the village made him pause and draw a shaky breath. It was still quiet in the morning lull and not many people were wandering the streets. Shops were just beginning to open and a cloudy overcast predicted possible snow later in the day. A few new businesses had sprung up but the classics were still there. Memories tickled his mind as he made his way through the village, cleverly Glamoured to avoid any interruptions. He held his robes tighter against the cold and the memories and trekked across the landscape to the front door of the Three Broomsticks. He knocked quickly and waited, casting a suspicious look around to make sure nobody was paying him any mind. It was barely ten in the morning – the pub didn't open to the public until noon. Before he could knock again, the door opened just enough for a hand to reach out and grab his wrist, pulling him into the pub, and closing the door behind him. As he regained his footing, he heard the door lock behind him and turned to see the smiling face of Madam Rosmerta standing before him.

"Why, the devil be blessed if it isn't Harry James Potter come back to raise all kinds of trouble! How have you been, sweetheart? You never come to visit me with any of your gang and, I must say, business just has not been the same since."

Harry couldn't help but grin as she pulled him in for a quick hug. "Hello, Madam Rosmerta. It has been a while."

Her curly hair bobbed as she pulled back to scrutinize him with her pretty, green eyes as he took off his winter robes. She shifted her weight and put a finger to her chin. "Hm. Well, you've certainly been working out in the years since I've seen you. Used to be such a beanpole, you did. Glad to see you've grown into something of a looker – just like your father!" She winked at him before moving behind the bar. "What can I fetch ya?"

Harry moved to take a seat on a barstool as he looked around. The place hadn't changed at all since his school years and it made him wonder what it would have been like to come here and enjoy a pint after graduating without the horrors of Voldemort lingering in his mind. The pub was empty, having only been opened early to allow him and Neville a private place to talk.

"Pumpkin juice, if you have it, please." He watched her pour the drink for a moment, wondering what to say. The pub was never this empty and knowing it was just the two of them was a bit unnerving. "Did Neville say he's on his way?"

"Aye, he probably got held up by a student or some nonsense. Comes here often enough, he does. Quite the loyal patron. Him and that damn Zabini boy."

"Zabini? Blaise Zabini? They come here together?"

"Not 'together' but usually they wind up having a pint on Friday evenings before the night is over." A heavy knock sounded on the door and Harry jumped a bit at the sound. "Though, I reckon he'll tell you more about it once I let him in." He watched her move to the door and unlock it. Neville came barreling in, slightly out of breath.

"Sorry I'm late! My first class is very inquisitive about Puffapods and I had to answer all sorts of questions. It's amazing, Harry! I have students that actually care about Herbology! Sprout would hex me out of jealousy if she knew."

"Or she'd be happy for you," Harry said wisely as he stood up to shake hands with and embrace his friend. "It's good to see you, Neville."

The professor pulled back and beamed. His hair had gotten a bit longer and he had lost a little bit of weight from all the squatting and lifting that comes with teaching a gardening-related course. But his face was still the same and he was as excitable as ever. "It's good to see you too, Harry. Thanks for coming." He took off his coat and moved to drape it over a barstool. "And thank you for giving us this space to use, Madam Rosmerta. It was very kind of you."

She shrugged nonchalantly as she wiped down the counter. It was already spotless. "Never you mind, Professor. The war's end brought my customers back in full. You two can have anything you like…within reason." She winked again.

Neville and Harry both blushed as they took their seats. For a moment they just looked at each other, relishing in their reunited companionship.

"It really is good to see you," Neville told him quietly. He reached out for the mug of juice that Rosmerta handed him and held it up to Harry in a toast. "Again, thanks for coming. I know it couldn't have been easy."

Harry clinked their mugs together and took a long draw of his drink before replying, "It feels weird but not unfamiliar. I'm glad nobody recognized me. Thanks for coming here so early in the day when it's kind of empty." He placed his mug down and looked back at Neville. "How have you been? How's teaching?"

"It's amazing," Neville replied and his grin was infectious. "I was so nervous last year when I started teaching. Of course I made all kinds of mistakes that still make me flinch to think about but everyone's been a huge help getting me through my first year. And now I feel like I'm getting something of a handle on things. But it's so crazy to enter a teacher's lounge and see Professor – I mean, Cuthbert – Binns floating around or to have a casual chat about the weather with Poppy Pomfrey. I keep calling them all by their titles and they keep scolding me for it. Well, except for Professor Flitwick. He appreciates my usage of his title and frowns upon alumni calling him by his first name. Old school, I guess. I don't mind it, though. It's really cool getting to know them all as colleagues."

"Are you enjoying your classes?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely. A couple of annoying students but, overall, they're pretty great. I covered mandrakes with the second years a few weeks ago and they went nuts over the little blighters. I didn't pass out this time, either!" He laughed. "It's nerve-wracking, sure, but very rewarding." His eyes were shining and it made Harry's heart melt a bit at his friend's happiness. "I'm glad I did this. Who would have thought I'd be a teacher?"

Harry reached out and put a hand on Neville's shoulder. "I'm glad you found what makes you happy, mate."

Neville grinned back. Harry was thankful when he didn't ask him what was happening on his end.

"How is everyone? At the castle, I mean."

"'Recovering' is the best way to cover it all," Neville began, lowering his mug. "The castle has been restored and McGonagall is surpassing every and any expectation as Headmistress. She helped me a lot my first year of teaching and still helps me constantly with any issue I have with no complaints. She's tough but fair and listens to all sides."

"What about the others?"

Neville eyed him and instantly knew what Harry was asking. "We could go see him if you want. I think he's on break, like me."

Harry quickly shook his head. "I don't want to impose."

"Are you sure? It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Harry squeezed the handle of his mug. "Yeah…it has."

Neville didn't say anything. Silence passed between them, both of them drinking from their mugs while Rosmerta paced around the pub with a broom.

"You could see him, if you wanted to," Neville said slowly. "It doesn't have to be today but you should see him, Harry. He misses you a great deal."

"I miss him too. I just…" Harry looked into his mug. "I need more time. I want to have some things in order first before I go back to the castle and see him and McGonagall and…everyone. I feel too much like a failure right now."

It was Neville's turn to place a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I know it probably won't help anything to tell you this, but you're the complete opposite of a failure. And everyone would tell you the same thing if you got up the nerve to go see them."

Harry gave a small smile. "Since when are you the brave guy who makes sense of everything?"

Neville squeezed his shoulder. "Since I met this silly boy with a scar who helped me find my courage."

Harry shook his head to try and hide his eyes behind his bangs but it was no good – the tears started falling.

"Come here, you dolt," Neville laughed as he pulled Harry in for a hug. It had been too long since they had seen each other. The professor was tearing up himself. "I haven't even asked you what I wanted to ask you yet and we're already emotional."

Harry sniffled through a chuckle as he wrapped his arms tightly around Neville for a few seconds before pulling back and wiping his eyes. "What did you want to ask me?"

Neville rubbed his own eyes on his sleeve before asking, "So…you know how Hannah Abbott and I have been a thing for a bit?"

"Yeah? She runs the Leaky Cauldron, right? I've run into her a couple times over the years."

"Right…well…I've asked her to marry me."

Harry's eyes widened. "I didn't know you two were so serious about each other."

"The timing felt right. We've both got successful jobs and can afford to pay for a wedding and everything. It just…it feels right."

"That's wonderful, mate! I'm happy for you both." Harry reached out and pulled Neville in for another hug. "That's amazing!" He hadn't been expecting this. Neville and Hannah had been dating for a couple years by now but Harry hadn't given it much thought lately.

Neville laughed as he quickly returned the embrace. "Yeah, we're both really excited. We're not sure when the date is, yet, but…" He pulled back and met Harry's eyes warmly. "I wanted to ask you formally if you'd be my best man."

Emotions tumbled through Harry so quickly that all he could say was, "Huh…?"

Neville laughed. "I'm serious! I want you to be my best man at my wedding."

"You're kidding."

"No, I'm not!"

"Neville!"

"Harry!"

His cheeks were beginning to hurt with how widely he was smiling. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, mate! Be my best man?"

"Neville, I – yes, this is – yes! Yes! I'd love to!"

Neville started laughing and Harry joined in. He couldn't believe it. Neville's asked me to be his best man! "I'm honored, Neville. Really. This is...this is nuts," Harry laughed. He couldn't believe it! "You're getting married!"

"It's crazy for me, too. I'm so happy you said yes," Neville replied with a sigh of relief. "I hoped you would but I wasn't sure –"

"Are you kidding? This is amazing!"

"I'm so glad!" Neville clapped both of his shoulders as he continued, "I wanted to wait to ask the others to be my ushers until I got to ask you about the best man thing and my parents will be at the wedding and Hannah's already got her dress picked out and we already know what kind of cake we want even though we haven't set a date yet and it's still so new but we're thinking maybe a spring wedding or fall of next year because Hannah loves the fall and I don't particularly mind it myself and –"

As Neville went on excitedly, Harry's mind swam to try and take it all in. He had always figured, somewhat selfishly, that Ron would ask him to be his best man but to have someone else ask him as well was mind-blowing. Neville truly was one of his oldest and best friends and while they didn't see each other as often as they would like, it meant a great deal to Harry that Neville had asked this high favor of him. He felt bad about being so stubborn in coming.

"It's definitely exciting, that's for sure," Harry interjected when Neville paused to breathe. "You said your parents will be going?"

"Yeah. Mom's started recognizing me."

"What? Neville, are you serious?"

The professor nodded with a soft smile. "Yeah. You know that potion that Malfoy made? It's been helping her the last few months. I visited them right before the school year started and she said my name. She said my name, Harry." His eyes filled with tears. "She'll never be back to her old self but the doctors thought she would never remember me. I thought she would never remember me. But she did remember, Harry! She said my name when she was giving me a gum wrapper. She said my name!"

Harry was more thankful for Madam Rosmerta than he had ever been in his life when she silently slipped them a box of tissues and disappeared to clean her own face before her customers started arriving.

Knowing that words wouldn't justly explain the depth of what he was feeling, Harry handed Neville a couple of tissues and pulled him close. Harry wrapped his arms around Neville's neck and rested his chin against the side of Neville's head. Neville was like the brother he never had and he loved him, despite initially not wanting to come.

I'm glad that things are finally turning around for you, Neville, Harry channeled in his mind as he held Neville close. Your suffering's coming to a close and it's awesome. You never deserved any of it. You only deserve happiness.

Neville was shaking in his arms but Harry knew without looking that he was smiling through the tears. "It's getting better, Harry," he whispered, holding Harry tightly. "Everything's going to be okay."

And, in that moment, Harry believed him.

XXXX

Author's Note: I love animal documentaries myself and use them to recover from attacks so I couldn't help but seize on the opportunity to insert a bit of myself into this chapter.
The Neville scene was really important to me as a good segway into preparing for something future to come. Also, I think being involved in planning a wedding will help Harry change his negative tune about marriage a bit. (Especially with a hot date to the wedding - spoilers!)
I'm happy with the length of this chapter. I didn't want to cram in too much too soon. But the holidays are approaching in this ficverse which means mistletoe will be a factor and meddling house-elves will be a factor and all that good, fun stuff so keep sticking around because more corny goodness is in store!
As always, a huge thank you to everyone who leaves kind reviews on this fic.