Chapter 5 – Choices

Harry groaned as he slid his glasses off his face, collapsing into his king bed. Without Teddy in the apartment he had nothing to distract him from the utter disaster that the day had been. Of all people, why did Draco fucking Malfoy have to be the wizard he ran into? Harry's emotions burned hot with shame – of all the wizards he didn't want to see him at his lowest, Draco Malfoy topped the list.

Burying his head in his pillow, Harry allowed himself one chance to worry and reflect on his encounter with Malfoy. Although he had absolutely no reason to trust the dark wizard, he thought that perhaps Malfoy wouldn't go running to the reporters about meeting the crazy Harry Potter. Based on his sparse knowledge of Malfoy over the past years, Harry was aware that Draco had his own issues with the Ministry and it seemed unlikely that despite their past enmity that he would go running to the very people who had given him so much grief.

No, Harry thought to himself, it was much more likely that if Malfoy was going to come after him, he would do so on the sly, quietly, and without alerting the wider wizarding world. Harry knew his magic was wild – he had no reason to wish to control it – and more than anything else it would be the sheer power he possessed that would entice a Malfoy to follow him. Draco wouldn't want another wizard to have to share that power, Harry thought bitterly.

In the confines of his room, alone, Harry also allowed himself to think that which he usually forbade himself from thinking about. Malfoy had looked good. There, he had thought it and the world hadn't caved in. Harry had known for many years that he was bisexual, but he had been genuinely in love and attracted to his wife and therefore the need to share that knowledge had never arisen. Now on his own though it was harder to deny the thoughts of men he had tried for so many years to deny.

Malfoy had still been smaller than Harry, but his dignified and elegant manner made up for any advantage Harry gained physically. He was slender and well proportioned, all long limbs and lean muscles. Draco's hair had grown to touch his shoulders, and those silver eyes when glaring at Harry had made his breath catch.

Harry laughed aloud at his thoughts. Even if, and it was a big if, he had felt a magnetism towards the other man, there was no chance he could ever act on it. Harry was damaged goods, he knew that. His looks and face had been destroyed by a diffindo spell to the face, he was a widow, his head was a mess and he had turned his back on the wizarding world years ago. Malfoys wanted beauty, power and grace in their partners, and Harry only had one of those things.

Harry moaned when he realised he wouldn't be able to go back to his tavern again. Now that Malfoy knew he frequented there, the chance of running into him again was too high. No, it would be better for Harry to stay well away from the bar despite how comforting it had become.

A sudden knock on the door startled Harry, who jerked upright and fumbled for his glasses. Glancing at the clock on his mahogany bedside table, Harry swore. Once a month Harry and Neville had dinner together, and in the excitement of the day Harry had forgotten that tonight was his night to cook for Neville.

Muttering to himself about what an idiot he was, Harry stumbled to his door and opened it widely, trying to put a smile on his face for Neville. Unfortunately for him, his friend knew him far too well and his own smile immediately fell.

"What's happened?" Nev asked, face now scowling.

Harry sighed and let him in, prepared to tell the whole tale from his own perspective.

"You should have hexed him," Nev scolded through a mouthful of Chinese food. "He deserved it." As Harry had been too distracted to arrange dinner, he had simply ordered muggle food for delivery. There was something to be said for muggle conveniences which wizards failed to recognise.

"No, he didn't," Harry admitted with a sigh, speaking around a mouth of food. "Any wizard with a basic knowledge of auras would have picked up on my magic." Guiltily, he looked at his friend. "I haven't really been trying to hide it."

Neville glared at him, and the expression was much more frightening than it would have been ten years previously. Neville Longbottom had grown from a bumbling, stuttering boy into a tall, broad man with a significant amount of power. The baby fat on his face had disappeared in place of a strong jaw and sturdy face, and his broad shoulders were heavily muscled. Yet, Neville had never lost the gentle personality which had carried him through life, for which Harry was most grateful. It was Neville's gentle presence which had carried Harry through the darkest days of his life.

"Harry mate, you can't let him drive you out of places you enjoy," Nev told him forcefully. "I know you don't want to hear this, but at some point, you need to go back to living. You've been driven away from everything you love. Ginny wouldn't want you to rot away in this apartment with nobody around to keep you company." The last sentence was offered so softly and with apparent care that Harry couldn't bring himself to be angry with his best friend. He was only doing what he thought was best.

"I know," Harry said, but his eyes dropped. Neville knew he was lying - Harry had no fire in him to defend himself, and his next words only reinforced what Neville was thinking. "But I can't seem to bring myself to want to fight for anything."

"Harry, you need to start living again." Nev looked uncomfortable. "Harry, I'm going to propose to Hannah."

Harry looked up at his friend who had a goofy smile on his face. Feeling mixed happiness for the wizard, Harry pulled him in for a hug and a clap on the back. "Congrats Nev," Harry exclaimed, pushing down his own feeling of loss. "You and Hannah are perfect for each other."

"Harry," Neville reached across the table and placed a large hand on Harry's arm. He looked into his face earnestly. "I want you to be my best man when the time comes. It will be a magical wedding and there might be people there that you know, and I want to know if that is something you will be able to handle."

Harry's arms dropped from around Neville. He was both honoured and afraid in equal measure. It had been years since he had been openly seen in the magical world, and the thought of having to see the Weasleys, Hermione... it was a lot for him to take in. Unsure of how to respond and not wanting to face the elephant in the room, he said the first thing that popped into his mind. "But Nev, would you really want your photos ruined?"

Neville stared at him in confusion. "What do you mean?" He asked.

Harry gestured rudely at his face. "This," he said. "I can't even smile for your photo. It will be like having an ugly reminder in all your photos for all time." Harry didn't have a chance to say another word before he was punched in the arm – hard. "Ouch!" He yelled, jumping to his feet with his plate clattering around him. "What was that for?"

"For being as thick as a damn gargoyle." Neville looked murderous. "Harry, I know you don't see yourself clearly, but I couldn't care less about your scars. You're my best mate, and I can't imagine having anyone else stand by my side on the most important day of my life."

Harry was quiet for a long time after Neville's passionate speech, the occasional clicking of Neville's chopsticks the only sound which permeated the silence. Neville didn't push - he was good like that. Harry knew that he wanted to be by Neville's side, and it wouldn't feel right to miss his wedding. Still, the thought of running into the Weasley's bothered him immensely.

"When you said run into people I know, you mean the Weasley's don't you?" Harry's voice was soft. Nev looked up and nodded once, not smiling this time. "Most likely a few other people from Hogwarts too, like Dean and Seamus. You don't have to stay after the ceremony," he conceded gently. "All I want is for you to see me get married. If you do want to stay, you're welcome to bring someone and I promise I'll seat you as far away from that buffoon Ronald as I can."

Harry smiled to himself. He was warring internally, but knew that if he missed the wedding of the person who had stuck by him he would forever regret it. The Weasley's had taken enough from him - was he really going to allow them this?

Eventually, Harry looked up and smiled a lopsided smile – the right corner of his mouth wasn't able to turn up into a smile since his injury.

"I'd be honoured," he told Neville, truly meaning it this time. Within himself, he knew that running into Malfoy was sheer luck – next time, it would be someone from the Ministry or worse, and he wouldn't be able to hide his magic or emotional state from them. He would always miss his wife and he knew he would never be enough for someone to love or desire, but he could at the very least reclaim some control over his life. Besides, it wasn't as though he was ready to venture back into the wizarding world, just live a life not filled with fear.

As Neville accio'd a bottle of firewhisky for himself and Harry to toast to, Harry knew exactly how he was going to start with his newfound stubbornness. He was going to go back to his favourite bar at the same time next week, Malfoy be damned, and drink to what he knew was going to be an awful week with the anniversary of Ginny's death fast approaching. It was one of the reasons Andromeda took Teddy at this time of year, and Harry planned to get heartily drunk in his absence.