A year later…
Harry stretched out on his bed, yawning and rubbing his eyes. It felt like he had slept most of the last week, and finally felt fully caught up.
Crawling out of bed, he had the longest, hottest shower he could stand, letting the water loosen up every muscle. He took his time scrubbing his skin and shampooing his hair, savouring being able to do this after a year in the tent and on the run. Simple pleasures.
He shaved, combed his hair and left it to air dry, and slipped on clean jeans, and a flannel shirt left unbuttoned over a t-shirt.
Going downstairs, he was thankful that Molly Weasley had sent him a basket of food. He made coffee and slathered a biscuit with butter and jam.
Going out the back door, he sat on a creaky bench on the back porch, overlooking an overgrown lawn. But it was quiet, it was his, and wonderful to feel the sun on his face as he enjoyed his breakfast.
The last week had been a blur. Talking with the officials, such as they were, from the Order. Telling them almost everything that had happened. How Snape had died. The memories he had shown Harry. And how Voldemort had lost the duel, his spell backfiring and killing him.
Harry had held a few things back. Like Dumbledore summoning Draco and Harry to his office a few days before Draco was hidden away.
"Boys, I'm just settling the final details up. I need to see that you are competent in a few basic skills."
He ran through the foundational spell work with them, having Harry immobilize Draco, and Draco throw a stinging hex at Dumbledore. This session only made sense later on. The Headmaster had deliberately chosen Draco to do expellerarmus on himself, and then Harry to it to Draco at the end of the session.
Had Dumbledore used a different wand himself after that? Had the Elder Wand felt different to him? Won in battle by another wizard?
Voldemort had stolen it from Dumbledore's grave, seeking the powerful relic to kill Harry. Instead, it had killed him.
Harry was pulled out of his thoughts by a sound coming from inside the house. He carried his empty dishes back to the kitchen, and realized someone was knocking at the front door.
Sighing, Harry paused. He wasn't sure if he was ready to face anyone yet. He didn't want more questions and concerned looks.
"Come on, Potter," came a low growl from the other side of the door. "I fucking know you are in there."
Harry's heart froze, and seemed to thump triple time as he fumbled with the locks and wards, flinging the door open finally.
Draco was on his doorstep, dressed all in black. His hair was longer, a bit shaggy. His face was slimmer, more angular. His cheekbones more prominent. From not eating enough? The stress? Or just being a year older?
Draco was looking at Harry just as closely. Harry wondered what signs of the past year showed on him. He was glad he had showered, shaved and dressed at least.
"Are you going to let me in?" Draco said finally, a sarcastic drawl to his tone.
Chuckling, Harry stepped back to let Draco pass him. He caught a whiff of his cologne or shampoo, and it sent memories flooding through him.
Slamming the door shut, Harry grabbed Draco and hugged him tight. He was truly here. Solid and real, warm. Draco. Harry pushed his face into Draco's neck and just breathed him in.
Draco was stiff with surprise at first, but his arms came around Harry and hugged him back just as hard. It felt wonderful. Grounding.
Ages later, Harry pulled back to look at Draco. "It's really, really you." Somehow, this felt like a dream.
Blinking at this odd statement, Draco slowly nodded. "Have you gone a bit daft, Potter? Did a few of the Dark Lord's spells screw you up?"
Rolling his eyes, Harry stepped back from Draco, finally letting him go. He let out a weak chuckle. "It's just that the last time I saw you, I wasn't sure if we both survive to see each other again. This, more than anything, let's me know it's really, truly over."
Draco shrugged a shoulder. "I guess. Now why don't you sit down before you fall over? I'll get us something fortifying to drink."
Harry sat on the sofa, watching as Draco walked towards the kitchen. But he found he couldn't stay there. He followed Draco, needing to be close.
"I don't want to lose sight of you," Harry explained, at Draco's raised eyebrow. He eased into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. "I know, it's a bit…"
What was the right word? Clingy? Desperate? Sad?
Draco placed a large teapot on the table, followed by cups, sugar and milk. Sitting across from each other, sipping tea, seemed so delightfully normal, Harry felt like he was in a dream.
Draco perhaps felt it too, content to just sit together, sipping tea. Not talking. Just being together. Letting that settle in.
"So, where have you been this last year?" Harry finally asked, when he had finished two cups of tea and was fixing a third.
Draco leaned back in his chair. "Iceland. Someone in the Order had connections there, and we ended up in a cabin. A free house elf came by weekly to bring us supplies, but other than that we didn't have much contact with the outside world."
Harry slowly blinked in surprise at this answer, processing it. He had never pictured anything like that. "So, just you, and your parents?"
"No, there was another Death Eater family there, a younger couple with a seven year old daughter," Draco shrugged. "We couldn't leave the property, but it had a large yard with a tall hedge. Amira liked to play out there."
"You spent a lot of time with her," Harry said, trying to imagine it, but couldn't.
"I think I needed it," Draco said, his voice softer, vulnerable. His eyes seemed darker when they met Harry's. "After all I had seen from being around Voldemort and the Death Eaters, I needed to be in a quiet, peaceful place. My parents too."
"Like being de-programmed after being in a cult," Harry said, more to himself than to Draco, and nodded in understanding. "How are your parents doing?"
Draco took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "My father was in rough shape from being in Azkaban. He recovered physically, but it took a while for that haunted look to leave his eyes. But in the end, my mother helped him reconnect with things he liked from his younger days."
Harry could see there was a peacefulness to Draco now, something so absent during that sixth year at Hogwarts for him. He had faced up to his inner demons and settled them, matured. He knew he had made the right decision, getting help from the Order.
"And you? How are you really feeling about everything?"
The question jarred Harry back, and he took his own deep breath before answering. "Relived, of course. A bit shocked I'm still alive. But I don't feel that safe yet, like it's really, truly over. Is he really dead? He wasn't last time."
Draco reached over, resting his hands on Harry's, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "Well, I know of an empty cabin in Iceland if you need to get away from it all."
Laughter burst out of Harry at that, and he laughed longer than he expected, drawn out by Draco joining him. When had he ever heard him laugh like that? So free and easily? Not sardonically.
Harry got up and pulled Draco to his feet, and hugged him tight. "I needed this. Needed you."
Draco hugged him back even tighter. "I needed this too. When I heard what happened, that it was all over, I wanted to come to you right away. But you were busy with all the officials, everything."
"Your timing is perfect. It's my first day home, with nothing I have to do," Harry said, feeling happy.
Draco pulled back, gazing into Harry's eyes. "If we were in the Room of Requirement, we would be cuddled up in front of the fire, full from feasting on our favourite foods…"
"Exhausted from what we just did in that huge bed…"
Draco looked at Harry, a bit surprised at his directness. But then his gaze became heated, and fell to Harry's mouth. "Do you think your bed will work as a replacement?"
"Let's see," Harry said, placing a hand on Draco's shoulder and aparating them right into the bedroom. They stripped quickly and fell into bed, limbs tangled together as they kissed.
…
Harry used wandless magic to move another log on to the fire. After a few hours of sex, naps and cuddling, they had finally decided they were starving. Draco had been able to transfigure the basic foods in Harry's kitchen into quite a feast, a skill he had developed during his time in the cabin.
"I wish I had known that magic this last year," Harry said, finishing a second helping of treacle tart. "We often just had meals like stale old bread with mushrooms and other things we foraged for."
"You can't create food from nothing, but you can change it," Draco shrugged. "We had lots of time to read, teach each other magic, anything to pass the time."
"And you played with Amira a lot," Harry was starting to get a better understanding of it now.
"We built this large snow castle outside. No magic, except for charms in our clothes to keep us warm," Draco grinned.
"Ice King and his tiny Ice Queen?" Harry teased.
"Ha! Hardly. Amira was the Princess, and I was her wise counsel," Draco sipped his fire whiskey. "My parents transfigured the inside of the cabin. Did some kind of extension charm to make the interior larger than the outside. Lots of rooms for all of us. They had fun designing and decorating them. It's likely what they would have done for a career if…"
His voice drifted off, and Harry got it. Like his own life. What would it have been like if Voldemort wasn't a part of it? Raised by his parents, allowed to just be a normal Hogwarts student. Not infamous for something that horrible that happened when he was a baby.
And what now? Voldemort and most of the Death Eaters were gone. He could go back to a normal life. What would that be like? What was 'normal'?
"I feel a bit lost too," Draco said softly, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze.
"Well, you are welcome to come here as much as you like. We can be lost together. You could even move in-"
The words slipped out, and Harry could feel himself flush in embarrassment. Draco stilled beside him, a bit shocked.
"Um, I mean, there are so many bedrooms, you could pick any of them, or switch every night… whatever you want. And decorate them! Throw out all the old rubbish-"
Draco chuckled, leaning in to kiss Harry. A firm kiss that made Harry want to lean for more. "I like the idea of living here. Of having a room or two of my own. But I'd probably spend the nights in your room, if that's OK."
Happiness welled up inside Harry, and he knew he was grinning like a fool. He couldn't help it. "That's brilliant. We could start tonight, if you like."
"Let me aparate us this time, make sure I do it right," Draco said, extinguishing the fire before pulling Harry into a hug. Seconds later, they were under the covers, cuddled together.
Harry sighed in contentment. He had no idea what would happen in the next few days, weeks, months… but he was pretty sure Draco would be here for at least a little while. They both needed quiet time to figure out what to do next in their lives, and Grimmauld Place was perfect for that. They would take things day by day.
Plus in a few hours, he would wake up for the first time with Draco, and already had some ideas for rather spectacular morning sex. The thought of that had him drifting off to sleep with a smile on his face.
-A/N: Thanks for reading! It was fun to explore what could happen if Harry slipped in the bathroom instead of doing the Sectum Sempra spell. If Draco went to Dumbledore for help…. There's an epilogue chapter coming soon.
With Dumbledore still dead, and Severus still posing as a Death Eater and running Hogwarts, the next year would follow canon for most things. Bellatrix would be even more extreme, trying to prove her loyalty to Voldemort even though her sister's family had defected. She would take over Malfoy Manor, using it as her base of operations, with Voldemort staying there often. Ron, Hermione and Harry would still hunt for horcruxes instead of going to Hogwarts for their seventh year. Harry still faces Voldemort at the final battle at Hogwarts.