A/N: Hmm. This is kind of... campy. But it's fun. Which is why I wrote it in the first place. Oh, and a Happy 22nd Birthday today to my friend Kathy, aka Graham Cracker, who will have no idea I wrote this, but it's the thought that counts, right? Oh, I forgot on Chapter 1, thanks for the reviews of At the End of the Day'!



Harry and Draco remained on a sort of magic-induced high for quite a few days following their visit to Seamus and the completion of the wizarding wedding spell. The news that no one had ever been told the real reason that they had left the wizarding world, however, intensified their desire not to be spotted by any witches or wizards when they were in London, and they planned to stay well clear of the area near the Leaky Cauldron.

There's only one slight problem, Harry said with a slight grimace, as the pair packed to meet the plane in a few short hours. The area around the Leaky Cauldron was destroyed, remember? We aren't going to recognize it.

We'll just have to do our best, I suppose, Draco answered. I don't fancy a run-in with some of those giggly girls – or even Colin Creevey, for that matter.

Harry laughed. Colin Creevey would have our pictures in the paper by the next morning, I don't doubt. Gods, he could be annoying.

Satisified that everything was packed, and they had done all they could to protect themselves in Muggle London, they met with their four friends to catch the airplace to Heathrow. Neither of the two had spent much time in Muggle London, and explained that they hadn't been into the city much to their friends.

We've been in Heathrow before, of course, though, Harry said. That's where we left for San Francisco from. Still, it was late, and we just went straight to the airport; we didn't bother with the city proper.

The others were slightly amazed, but didn't complain; it would be more fun if it were like all the other cities, with all of them lost, anyway. The plane touched down and the six caught a taxi to their hotel, just off Trafalgar Square.

Draco exclaimed as he flopped onto the bed in their suite. I'm glad I was in charge of hotels in London. Each couple has their own room!

Harry smiled. Me too. Although how you knew where to stay I don't know.

Draco giggled. Narcissa used to like to get her hair and nails done the Muggle way, so she'd come here and rent out a room for a day or two so she could go to a spa.

Harry raised his eyebrows. Who knew? I'm just glad she choose such a nice hotel!

The following days were filled with lots of fun for the six as they did the typically tourist things, and then ran around the city like the crazy kids they were at night, visiting clubs, pubs, and bars in a whirlwind fashion.

It was late one afternoon when they found themselves walking down random streets, singing as they went. Harry and Draco had undergone a crash course in Muggle music four years previously, and they found that their last name was taken from an American Muggle musician named Kurt Cobain, who had committed suicide in 1994. Intrigued, they had bought all of the cds by his band, Nirvana, and they frequently sang many of them at the top of their lungs, just for fun.

They had just finished off a rousing rendition of All Apologies when the group walked by an outdoor cafe that was playing music. John exclaimed. That's the song that you two love.

Harry and Draco had both been struck by the song It's Not Easy by Five for Fighting when they had first heard it the previous summer. They had even made a few modifications to the words when singing it, and it had been the song that they had danced to after their civil union ceremony that January. Sure enough, its opening chords could be heard coming out of the speakers, and Harry and Draco began to sing, both to themselves and to all the world.

We can't stand to fly. We're not that naive. We're just out to find the better parts of life. We're more than birds, more than a plane, more than two pretty faces beside a train. And it's not easy to be me, they sang softly, their hearts in their voices, pain on their faces. Their friends didn't know why they cherished this song, or why they had altered the words so that both of them could sing it, but they knew it meant so much to the pair.

Wish that we could cry, fall upon our knees. Find a way to lie bout a home we're not allowed to be. It may sound absurd but don't you agree even heroes have the right to bleed. Anguish was in their voices, and their friends got shivers. For Harry and Draco, the song had never seemed as intense as on this day in London, so near and yet so far away from their former life.

We may be disturbed but won't you concede even heroes have a right to dream and it's not easy to be me. Harry felt like his heart would break. They had been heroes, and to dream, they had to leave. Up ahead because because of us, well it's alright, you can all sleep sound tonight, we're just soldiers and everything. That was the modification that had puzzled their friends the most. Soldiers? Harry and Drake were just college students. Extraordinarily smart, yes, but soldiers? They had only been eighteen when they had met them.

We can't stand to fly, we're not that naive. Men weren't meant to ride, with dragons between their knees. Draco remembered with pain the days and nights they had spend a'dragonback. No, dragons weren't meant to be riden, or used as weapons in a world of war.

We're only men, in silly red sheets, diggin' for kryptonite on this one-way street. The symbolism of the green rock that could hurt the invincible was too poignant to be changed.

Only two men, in funny robes, looking for special things inside of me, inside of we, inside of we... Ultimately, they had had to call on themselves to fight Voldemort, and no one else. Only themselves, and what they had between them, and inside of them.

We're only men, in funny red sheets, only two men looking for a dream, only men, in funny old robes, and it's not easy, to be us. It's not easy to be me. The song finished, and the two men embraced, tears pouring down their cheeks. All of their pain, buried for so long, tended to surface when they sang this song, and after seeing Seamus just days previously, it was overwhelming. Most of the cafe had stopped to listen, as had others on the sidewalk, and they clapped lightly, awed by what they had heard.

Harry and Draco hadn't recognized the neighborhood, and they had been facing in the opposite direction from a dingy old pub that no one else notice. Halfway through their song, however, a heavily pregnant young woman had emerged, and her eyes had widened as she heard the voices, and then she gasped when she saw who owned the voices.



Hermione Granger-Weasley was nearly overwhelmed with indecision. She knew those two voices, and long hair or no, scar or no, she knew the two men that she saw down the street, and she was almost certain that the two men, surrounded by American Muggles, and dressed like Americans, were her best friend, Harry Potter, and his partner, Draco Malfoy.

What were they doing here? she thought. They must not realise that they are anywhere near the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley. I can't imagine that they would come so close otherwise. I should just let them pass.

But if I don't stop them, someone else might come out. I should stop them, just to protect them. Yes. And the fact that you want to see your best friend has nothing to do with it, does it, Hermione Granger-Weasley? she scolded herself.

Still, the opportunity was too good to pass up. Four long years had passed since she had seen Harry or Draco. Shifting her bag slightly around her swollen belly, Hermione set off towards the pair.

HARRY POTTER AND DRACO MALFOY! she yelled as she crossed the street opposite them. Oh, she hoped this wasn't a mistake....



Harry and Draco had just released one another and continued walking down the street when Hermione's voice rang out through the air.

they said as one. They kept walking, mechnically.

What do we do, Drake?

I don't know, Harry. I don't know. Who is it? Draco was wringing his hands.

I think it's 'Mione. Shit, shit, shit.

Hey, guys, what's wrong? Sean asked brightly, as Hermione yelled again, this time much closer.

Harry sighed. I think we have to. Draco nodded his agreement, and the pair resolutely turned to face their pursuer.

Harry was shocked to see that Hermione was pregnant, although it wasn't all that surprising, he supposed. Beside him, he heard his husband snigger slightly, then squeeze his hand tightly.

squealed Hermione, breaking into a run as best she could.

Excuse me, Sean said politely, but who are you? And why were you calling our friends by the wrong last names?

Hermione stopped short, out of breath, and Harry felt compelled to help her explain. Don't worry about it, Sean. We'd better talk to her. Meet you back at the hotel? With that, he and Draco led Hermione into a nearby restaurant, where they sat down.

Hello, Hermione, Harry finally said, quietly.

Hello, Harry, Draco, she returned, unable to stop herself at smiling. Why do I have the feeling that you two didn't realise you were close to Diagon Alley?

Draco sat up hurriedly. You're kidding! We've been so careful...

But today we had been walking for a long time, remember, Draco? We must've turned this way without realising it.

Draco breathed softly, his shoulders sagging.

I'm really very glad to see the two of you, regardless, Hermione said, a bit sadly. Tell me where you've been, what you're doing here. You haven't been in London the whole time.

Harry smiled. No, we haven't. We went to San Francisco – really, 'Mione, you're the one that told me that it had such a large gay population – and went to college there.

Harry's a lawyer, Draco interjected, always proud of his husband's accomplishment. Did his bachelors and his J.D. in four years.

What Draco doesn't mention is that he got a Ph.D. in chemistry, Harry grinned. We've been having a life, Hermione, and a childhood. Parties, friends, fun. He paused. Oh, and we got married. They placed their left hands on the table and Hermione gasped.

Muggle or wizard? I mean...

Vermont allows civil unions, Harry explained. And then we ran into Seamus a few weeks ago, and he did the spell for us.

Seamus? You've seen him? How is he?

Draco had to laugh at Hermione's passionate inquiry. Relax, Hermione. He's fine. We happened to be at the same pub in Dublin. Harry & I, along with the friends you saw earlier, have been traveling around Europe since mid-May.

Hermione opened her mouth, about to ask another question, when she stopped short. she exclaimed. I told him I'd be right back, and he's alone with the kids – she ignored the snickers from both boys – I'd better go find him. Can he come see you? Will you wait?

Hermione, much as I've missed Ron, I... I don't think I'm quite ready to see him, or anyone else. At least you had some idea of what was going on before. Do you understand?

Of course, she said, recovering quickly. Could... could we meet, say, tomorrow night, just us three, and talk?

Harry frowned, and then nodded. As long as it's okay with you, Draco, he said then, turning to face his husband.

Draco nodded. I think that will be fine. He gave Hermione the address of their hotel and then the three separated, leaving all three with swirling emotions.



Harry! Draco! Over here! Hermione called across the sidewalk. She was running late – Ron had insisted on questioning her about where she was going, and had been slightly upset when she wouldn't tell him.

Harry called, waving, and then he and Draco crossed the street to join her. Hermione noted with a smile the way that the pair kept track of each other, either by sight, sound, or touch, at all times. Right now they had their hands clasped, but Hermione wasn't sure that they even realised it consciously.

I know a decent restaurant around the corner, Draco offered. My mum used to go there in the afternoons when she stayed in the city.

Harry nodded, and Hermione tried to conceal her surprise. She was sure her friends would have plenty to tell her.

Once they sat down, Hermione sighed, and asked the question that she had wondered about for years. Why didn't you contact us at all?

Harry looked at her carefully. We were... we felt almost betrayed, Hermione. By the whole wizarding world. We saved them, and we're repaid by being railroaded into loveless marriages, a life of a celebrity, things that neither of us wanted, and we were made to feel ungrateful and spoiled if we didn't play along. I was half-afraid that the Ministry would send Aurors out to force us to come back and get married if they had so much as a hint of where we were.

Draco was nodding. Exactly. We had sacrificed so much already, and we weren't planning on sacrificing something that we had just discovered – freedom.

You sound like a bloody advertisement for America, Hermione scowled, and the other two boys burst out laughing, much to her surprise.

That's what Jake and Sean always say, Harry explained through his laughter. They say we're more patriotic than they are. I guess you appreciate something more when you didn't grow up with it, sometimes.

Draco sobered. We've all been plenty patriotic in the past few months, though.

What? Oh, that World Trade Center thing. We didn't hear much about it in the wizarding press, but I saw a few things about it on our telly.

Both their faces darkened. Harry began seriously, over 50,000 people worked in those two towers. Somehow, someway, many of them weren't there yet, and many more got out. But so, so many died, Hermione. Some of them burned, some of them jumped, to escape the smoke, some of them were just trapped when the towers fell. We may have been on the other side of the country, but there wasn't a single person in America that wasn't affected, not by a long stretch.

It was liking seeing old nightmares come to life, Draco whispered. Death, destruction, all over again.

The two were leaning on each other, pain etched in every inch of their faces.

I'm sorry, Hermione whispered. I didn't realise you hadn't processed everything still.

Processed? Bloody hell, Hermione, you were there, how can you forget and demean something like that? You don't process a war; you put it in your memories, you try to move on, but sometimes there are things that bring it up. America has been our home for the past four years – it would be just as devestating for you if, suddenly, Diagon Alley were attacked again, but, say, by some Muggles, just because there were witches there. That's why bin Laden attacked America. Because they were Americans, and that was enough of a reason. Remind you of anyone?

Hermione was silent and pale, and the waiter came to take their order and left before she addressed them again. I'm sorry, she said simply. I was out of line.

Harry merely nodded tightly, and Draco just said

So... would you come back?

Honestly? I know I want to, but I'm terribly afraid to, as well.