"I'm going to visit Hogwarts," Harry declares over breakfast.
Draco lowers his paper enough to look over the top. "And?"
Harry blanches. "Well, I, um—"
"You're free to do whatever the fuck you want. You don't need my permission."
Harry doesn't mention it again.
Instead, he Floo calls Neville and sets up a visit for the following afternoon when he has an open class period.
The grounds of Hogwarts feel different now. Harry remembers the last time he was here. Things were still being rebuilt and part of the castle lay shattered near the doors to the great hall. He shakes the memory away. Today is different. Today, the castle is whole.
He's greeted by Professor McGonagall. She lets him through the wards and together they walk the familiar path, past the Quidditch pitch and toward the greenhouses.
"How are you doing, Mr. Potter?"
"Better, Professor. I'm better." Harry's hands are in his pockets to hide the fact that he wants to run his sweaty palms up his trousers.
"I hear you've sold Grimmauld Place?" Her eyes are sharp beneath the spectacles perched at the end of her nose.
"Yes, well… There's not really an Order anymore and… I just couldn't stay." Harry is fumbling for words, but she interrupts.
"It's quite all right, Harry. You don't have to explain it to me. Where are you staying now?"
"Draco's letting me stay at Malfoy Manor. I'm just not sure where to go from here. So much has happened and I—"
"No need to get in a fret, dear boy," she says as she turns to him, stopping in the middle of the path. "You have your entire life to figure it out. In the meantime, if you need something to occupy yourself with, I'm still in need of a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor..."
Harry cocks his head. "But—"
"Yes. We hired someone, but, regrettably, she didn't work out." The twinkle in her eyes is mischievous. Harry smirks.
"I'm not sure I can, Professor. Hogwarts is my home, but so much happened here." He's tapping inside his pocket, hoping she doesn't notice. "Defense brings back a lot of memories…"
"I know, Harry." She reaches out a hand to grip his arm gently. "You are always welcome here. You would also be a great asset to this school and her students. Please do think about it?"
Harry nods and they continue walking. It isn't long before they near the greenhouses. Harry sees Neville's lumbering gait and dirty hands and can't help but grin.
"Neville!"
He looks up and runs over to Harry, so excited he doesn't remember his soil-stained clothes or hands and locks him in a bear-hug. Harry squirms a little, but pats him in return.
"It's good to see you too."
"Harry, mate. It's been too long!" He steps back to look Harry over, a goofy smile coming and going at the dirt he's left on Harry's jumper. "Sorry 'bout that." He tries to wipe it off, but ends up leaving more. Neville shrugs; Minerva shakes her head fondly.
"This is where I leave you, Mr. Potter." She smiles to him, then turns on Neville. "Mr. Longbottom." He blushes as she walks away.
Harry turns to Neville with enthusiasm. "Show me around. What are you working on?"
Neville takes him to the newly-built greenhouse. In here, he's housing the new project for plants that are used in healing potions. "An entire greenhouse dedicated to healing plants?" The awe in Harry's voice reinforces Neville's pride.
"They're lovely, aren't they?"
Harry can't answer. The words are lodged in his throat. All he can do is hug his friend while his tears make mud out of the dirt caked on Neville's robes.
"This is going to save lives, Nev."
"That's the hope."
Harry swipes at his eyes and steps back. "There's so much to remember here. So much to think about. I didn't think it'd be this overwhelming."
"Don't worry, mate. It took me a few months to get used to it, too." Neville's reassuring hand at his back helps Harry feel less alone.
They head out of the greenhouse and into the afternoon sun. Neville finds a sunny spot beneath a tree and leans against the thick trunk. Harry joins him and they relax for a few minutes before turning the conversation elsewhere.
"McGonagall offered me a job."
"I know," Neville responds, his charming smile in place as he turns to Harry.
"You know?"
Neville chuckles softly. "That's why I thought you'd come."
"Oh." Harry systematically shreds a blade of grass before tossing it away, picking up another. "I don't know if I can."
Neville's brows come together. "What do you mean?"
"A lot has changed since…" Harry lets the implication sink in and Neville nods.
"Yeah, well you've got to move beyond that at some point, Harry. This would be a great way to heal. I'm sure Draco would understand. Hannah's been wonderful."
"What do you mean, Draco would understand?" It's Harry's turn to look at Neville in confusion.
"Oh, well, with the way Draco talks about you, I wasn't sure. We've gone out for drinks a couple times over lunch—" At Harry's angry glare, Neville raises his hands and drops in a quick, "don't worry, mate, he drinks pumpkin juice now—" then continues with, "and he talks about you staying at the Manor, helping with the elves, how you have breakfast every morning. He drones on more about you than he did Blaise and that's saying something."
Harry's breath hitches at the last and his fingers jerk the grass in his fingers apart so hard it's in two. He lets both pieces drop to the ground. Harry realizes he's blushing and the shaking of his knee is loud as his shoe wriggles in the grass.
"Sorry," Neville jumps in. "It's not any of my business, Harry."
Harry shakes his head. "No. No, you're fine. I just—I don't know." Harry grips his leg to still his hand and lets out a sigh. "I don't know what's going on."
Neville nods and lets it go. When Harry casts a rushed Tempus and says he has to go, Neville doesn't question it.