Author's Note: I didn't keep Ginny out of the story because I hate her. …Wait, that's a lie. Me no likey Ginny (despite the fact that I'm 8/10ths a Draco fan), therefore she no appeary in this story, except in the occasional flashback. Sorry if you're a Ginny fan.

Disclaimer: Didn't happen, don't own, don't sue.

December 01, 2018

Harry rolled over in his infinitely warm and comfortable bed, blinking sleepily in the bright but weak winter sunshine. He let out a lazy sigh; he'd be perfectly happy if he could stay in bed all day. He hadn't done that since Ginny…

He winced, the memory unexpectedly painful. Ginny had been murdered by a Death Eater three years ago; a revenge killing. He'd tracked down the Death Eater- Adrian Flint- and made sure he got the Dementor's Kiss. But it hadn't served to ease the pain of losing his wife.

And he'd thought he couldn't experience anything more painful than the horrors he'd faced as the Chosen One…

He swallowed a lump in his throat that threatened to choke him as a tapping sounded at the window. He turned to see Hedwig perched on the sill, a roll of parchment in her beak. He smiled weakly as he opened the window and Hedwig dropped the letter into his hand. He broke the wax seal and unrolled the paper, reading the familiar script.

Harry-

"Figure out what to do next"? You know as well as I do that there is no 'next' for us, Harry. What existed between us was destroyed years ago. Our paths have split; and it's not just our own sentiments ensuring our separation. The Minister made it perfectly clear that I wasn't welcome in England, and you, Ron and Hermione made it clear that our lives were mutually exclusive. What we had- if, indeed, we ever had anything truthful at all- is too broken to be fixed.

But I do want you to have a relationship with James. I want you to know the amazing person that is our son. So yes, you have my blessing to take him for Christmas. I think it'll do you both good.

-Alana

Harry raised his eyebrows at this letter, which was so unlike her. Alana Montblanc, being emotional in a letter? Revealing anything about what she was thinking? Unfathomable.

He read through the letter again, furrowing his brow. She sounded so… sad, and regretful; so remorseful of how things had played out. She sounded like a completely different person, and Harry found that the change disturbed him. He'd always thought that nothing could shake her; he didn't like the idea of Alana being weak.

He sat down as his mind went back to the memory of Alana that had always haunted him.

January 13, 2007

Nineteen-year-old Harry leaned back in his chair and stretched, yawning. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily, then stood to make himself a fresh pot of coffee.

As he waited for the precious brew, he leaned back in his chair, sighing. He'd been working on this case for weeks now, obsessively trying to track down the Death Eaters responsible for the massacre of 50 muggles. It should have been easy, a routine case. But the Death Eaters had been very clever in making it look like an accident. There was almost no evidence to trace back to anyone.

Harry gnawed on the inner wall of his cheek, considering. Maybe he could ask Alana for help… The Auror and the Unmentionable had paired up for many cases over the past two years, and their partnership always solved the case. Perhaps she would have the resources he needed.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden presence of Alana herself. Harry smiled in pleasure, but that quickly faded into alarm as he got a good look at her. Her hair was disheveled and tumbled around her face. She was flushed, angry tears pouring out of her eyes. She seemed furious, but also terrified.

"Alana?" he asked cautiously.
"Can we run away?" she burst out through the tears. "Just… get up and leave, and run till we leave it all behind?"
Harry stood and walked over to her. "Lana, what happened?" he asked, pulling her into his arms.

At that, Alana broke down fully. She clung to him, burying her head in his shoulder as great, wrenching sobs threatened to rip her apart.

"M-My father found me," she said.

Harry closed his eyes against the fear that stirred in his heart. After her graduation from Hogwarts, Alana had had a huge falling-out with her parents. She had never told him the details, but as a result she had been disowned by her father. Alana had left her home in Kent and moved to London, where she entered the Ministry at the same time as Harry, Ron and Hermione. After she'd proved her worth and loyalty, she had become one of the Department of Mysteries' greatest assets.

"What did he want?" Harry asked.
"He told me that I still belonged to the Dark Lord, that I would do my duty and be glad of it," Alana said.
"Or he'd do what?"
She sniffed. "Or he would put me under the Imperious Curse and do it for me."

Harry had no doubt that Alana's father had meant what he said. Hugh Montblanc was known to be as ruthless as he was conscienceless. If he'd threatened Alana, Harry knew she was in real danger.

He nodded. "Okay. It's not safe for you to stay in your flat anymore."
"Then where do I go?" Alana asked, wiping her eyes.
He hesitated only a moment before making his decision. "You'll come and live with me. Grimmauld Place is the safest house in the UK, barring Hogwarts. He won't be able to find you there."

Alana nodded, sighing in relief. Harry bit the inner corner of his lip as he glanced at the woman he'd been secretly dating for almost a year.

"Lana, why does Voldemort want you so much?" he asked.
"Because he thinks that if he had a Wishgiver, he could wish for the way to destroy you," Alana replied in a low voice.
Harry tried to stifle the fear growing in his chest. "And… could he?"
"No," Alana said. "The only person who can irrevocably get exactly what they want every time is the one who has the Wishgiver's heart. And that's you, Harry."
Harry smiled, resting his chin on Alana's head. "But if that's true, then why do you want to run? The Alana Montblanc I know would never back down from a challenge."
"The Alana Montblanc you know would also never admit when she's afraid," she said softly. "But I… I'm terrified, Harry. I'm afraid of what's happening. I'm afraid of what I see coming. I'm afraid of what we may be forced to do."

Harry held Alana close, shocked. He had never seen her this unguarded, this uncomposed. After all these years, he was finally seeing the real Alana. And in her he saw someone more like him than he had ever realized.

Harry shook his head to clear the memory, smiling bitterly. She'd been a damned good actress; she'd had him completely fooled. He had believed all the lies she'd spoon-fed him, and it was that blind faith in her that had led to his downfall.

He stood quickly, scowling at the black leather-bound journal that lay on the mantle. He was in no mood to read it, to hear Alana attempt to explain herself. There could be no explanation. He had loved her, and she had betrayed him. End of story. Everything she had ever said to him had been a lie, carefully crafted to earn his trust and to blind him to what she had truly been up to.

And he had fallen for it, hook line and sinker.

He grabbed his broom, desperate to get away from her memory for a while. He ran out to his balcony, and threw himself into midair without another thought. For a moment, he just fell through the air, enjoying the freefall. Then he got on his broom and soared off, flying wherever his fancy took him. He refused to think; he just flew.

Hours- and a trip to Diagon Alley to visit George- later, he touched back down on his balcony, relieved to find that he had left his anger and bitterness behind him, leaving only resolve. He crossed to his desk and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment, then sat to answer Alana's letter.

Alana-

What's past is past. We can't change what happened, but it doesn't have to define who we are. I'd like for us to be able to have some sort of amiable relationship, for James' sake. And besides that… a long time ago, had things been different, we could have been friends. True friends. We deserve that much, I think.

-Harry