A/N: I will need to make you sad before I make you happy again. Apologies, but what's a good story without a little tension and longing?

XXI

When Harry woke in the morning, the first tinges of sunlight filtered in through the charmed windows the Room had created as part of the decor. He stretched out his hand, expecting to come in contact with another body. Instead, he only felt cold sheets. He sighed, disappointed but not surprised. He rose and dressed quickly, slipping out of the Room and padding silently back to Gryffindor Tower. He thought he might be able to sneak in and catch about an hour more of sleep before he had to get up to pack.

With that, the summer term was over. A few hours later, they were all headed back home on the Hogwarts Express, which had been arranged just for them. Harry hadn't taken the train out, so it was a strange experience for him. Aside from the unusual timing, the cars were well more than half empty. It wasn't merely that there were only older students; it was another reminder of just how many people they had lost in the last year. Harry chose a seat among his friends.

The long weeks had finally caught up with them, and everyone was quiet. Hannah leaned comfortably against Neville, experimenting with making oddly-shaped bubbles bloom out of the end of her wand. Luna had a magazine open in front of her which appeared to be considerably more mainstream than her usual fare, and she was actually reading it right way up. Naturally, Hermione was reading a book—or, rather, several books. She kept looking from one to another, placing them face-down on the table in front of her.

Ron, Ginny, and Neville were playing cards. They offered for Harry to join them, but he wanted to just sit. He thought he might try to sleep a bit and try to ignore the fact that he still had not had a chance to talk to Draco since the night before. Too many things had been left unsaid between them, and he didn't quite know where things lay. Leaning against the window, he closed his eyes and began to drift.

Just as he was sliding toward sleep, he heard Ron say, "Hermione! You've put your book in the way of our game. Can't you find someplace else to set it?"

"Sorry," she replied. Harry heard a rustle and assumed she had moved the offending book.

"What are you doing, anyway?" Ron wanted to know. "Didn't you get enough of that for the last eight weeks? Give it a rest, why don't you."

Hermione huffed. "Some of us are planning to pass our N.E.W.T.s, you know. And I'll need to be ready to finish the last of my classes next month. Besides," she continued, "I'm not doing schoolwork."

"What are you reading about?" Hannah sounded genuinely curious.

"The potion we used when we repaired the room and its relationship to the Founders."

"Why?" Ginny asked. "I thought you read about it before we started."

"I did. But this is interesting. The potion has properties similar to both love and hate potions, but without their most potent ingredients. It's also a little like polyjuice and has some effects like a calming draught."

"We know all that," Ron said. "You told us before."

"Yes, well. Anyway, apparently, there can be some residual effects, just like with those other potions. Well, not polyjuice, but definitely the others."

"Like what?" Hannah asked nervously. "Are we all going to sprout boils or something?"

Harry cracked one eye. He was curious about the answer as well.

"No." Hermione shook her head. "It's more subtle. In a way, you've recreated the relationship between the Founders. So you're likely to continue to feel some kind of connection with each other."

"Oh, well, that's not so bad." Hannah smiled. "We were already friends, so this just seals it, right?"

"Except for Malfoy," Harry said. The rest all turned to look at him. "I mean, we may not have been so close before, but at least we go on, yeah? But Malfoy…" He let his voice trail off.

Hannah wrinkled her nose. "I'd forgotten about him. I'm not sure I want a permanent connection."

"He's not so bad," Luna remarked. "He's changed a lot."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Harry thought about what Hermione had said, and something occurred to him.

"What kind of connection, exactly?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged. "It doesn't say. I assume something like what you felt when you combined your magic, only not as strong."

"I liked that," Hannah said. "It was nice. Like being comforted and loved."

Harry had liked it too, and that was the problem. He recalled exactly how he had reacted the first time they'd tried it and had to fight hard not to let his embarrassment show. "So, none of that was…real?"

Hermione frowned. "No, it was real in some sense. It just amplified feelings you already had, made them more potent."

Panic rose in Harry's chest. If what Hermione had said was true, then everything that happened after they'd taken the potion must have been no more than the effects of creating an artificial bond. Draco had been right after all. The feelings he'd developed were the effects of the potion increasing the minor amount of affection he felt for the first—and only, thus far—man he'd kissed. He'd sat in the room with the brewing potion and had helped finish preparing it, which meant that maybe breathing in the steam and working with the ingredients could have caused a similar reaction even before taking it. That would certainly explain their increased closeness over time. His heart thumped wildly, and he was glad he hadn't said anything to Ron or Hermione yet.

"I—I need to get up," he said, pushing a little at Ginny.

She slid out of her seat. "Are you okay? You look like you're going to be sick."

"No, I'm all right. I need to find Malfoy and tell him."

"Harry, it's really not that big of a deal," Hermione said. "It will fade over time. I'll owl him and let him know."

"You don't understand!" He gave a frustrated growl. "I cannot be magically bound to Draco Malfoy for the rest of my life! I have to—"

He never finished that sentence. As he got to his feet, he happened to look at the door to the compartment to see Draco standing there. His mouth was open slightly, and his eyes were wide. He quickly recovered, letting a sneer slide onto his face.

"I see you've decided to convene a meeting. Don't let me stop you from talking about our little project without me."

Harry wondered how long Draco had been standing at the door of the compartment and how much of the conversation he'd heard.

"Actually, it's probably a good idea if you know," Hermione said. "I was telling the others that there could be some side effects to that potion and you'll probably have a mild residual bond."

"Which means," Hannah said, "that we might have some feelings for each other that aren't completely natural."

"I see," Draco said. He looked at Harry, who stood there helplessly. The others knew nothing of what they had done, and now he wasn't sure how much of it had been genuine. Not only that, he had just implied that real or not, he wanted to be free from Draco.

"She means," Harry said, trying to convey his intent without giving anything away, "that it made us much closer than we might have been without it." He held his breath.

Draco's expression was unreadable, but his eyes were hard. "Good to know," he said. "It certainly explains why I don't feel much like hexing the lot of you."

The others all relaxed considerably, laughing, and Harry tried to go along with them. Something stopped him, especially when he saw that though Draco was smirking, there wasn't any emotion behind it. After a few more minutes, Draco turned around and walked back out of the compartment. Harry sat back down, shaking. Ginny glanced sideways at him, and he shook his head slightly at her. She reached under the table and squeezed his hand.

When he felt enough time had passed since their conversation about the potion and Draco's sudden appearance, Harry excused himself. The others absently acknowledged him and returned to what they were doing. He slipped out of the car and went in search of Draco.

When he finally found him, he was—mercifully—alone in the last car. Harry sat down next to him.

"You heard."

"Of course I heard. Enough to know you think that whatever happened, it wasn't us but the potion."

"Right."

Draco sat up and angled himself toward Harry. "You'll be happy to know that in three weeks, it won't matter. You'll be rid of me, and whatever 'bond' we have now won't interfere in your life anymore."

"I—what?" Harry panicked, thinking that Draco might resort to something drastic.

"I'm leaving."

"Where are you going?" Harry frowned. That hadn't been what he'd expected.

"Father has two more months of house arrest, followed by another three of community service. He's insufferable, so Mother and I are going on holiday until Christmas."

"Oh." Harry was relieved, both because it meant that Draco wasn't planning on hurting himself and because it meant he wouldn't be gone forever. He pushed hard on that last thought, not wanting it to lead anywhere. He couldn't entertain those feelings at all if he couldn't be sure they were real.

"And then I'm going away again for another two years."

The smashing Harry heard in his own head could only be the sound of his heart breaking. He willed himself not to think about it. "Two years? What will you be doing?"

"I'm going to study international potions trade, and that requires an intensive travel programme." Draco sighed. "I don't want to be a potions master. I want to work in the regulation of imports and exports, but I can't do that unless I take this course of study. No one here will have me at this point."

Harry said the only thing that came to mind. "When were you planning on telling me?" Draco didn't reply. He looked away, and Harry knew. "You weren't going to."

"No. I wasn't."

"Then…it meant nothing to you." I meant nothing to you. "I wish you'd told me."

Draco's mouth dropped open. "Why? Because you care so much? You have your life, Potter. Go live it, free of the confines of a potion that makes you think you want the one person you shouldn't have—for your sake and for the sake of the wizarding world."

"But—"

"Go away, Potter. We're done here. Whatever you thought we had, it was all in both our heads." He turned away, making it clear their conversation was over.

Harry stood up. He wanted to reach out to Draco, to touch him find assurance that it hadn't been just a mirage. But in his heart, he knew it wouldn't make a difference. After all, Draco was right. He couldn't pursue a daydream when there was plenty of reality available to him. Without saying goodbye, he exited the car and made his way back to his friends.