Draco had been in France for over a month, and part of him didn't want to leave, but he knew he had to. He knew his father would have told him to stay, he had tried to send Draco to be a mage, but Draco had refused to leave, he would do no less then his dad. How he wished his dad fled, he needed him, more then ever before. He had his Uncle, but it was not the same, and he wished his father had been more selfish. Draco had nothing to lose; he had no great love, no child to leave.
He traced the names on the stone, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, beloved father and husband. There was plants growing around, five plants, one for ever year he was here. Harry came to visit often, but he followed an old veela tradition of planting flowers to represent the cycle of life, every year.
Draco touched the stone. "Why couldn't you have just been selfish for once? Said me and Harry were worth more then the people? I have nothing to lose, you did."
A voice came from behind him. "He would not have been the man we loved, if he had run, it wasn't in him. And you would be mourned Dragon."
The term of affection used by his father and godfather, had become a nickname between him and Harry, in the later years. Harry had once told him on the quidditch pitch he was like a dragon, had some speed, but lacked the agility, and floundered like a dumb beast. How he longed for the days of such simple mundane pleasures.
Draco turned to look at Harry who stood hooded and by a tree. "I knew you would come if I waited. You always had a good heart."
Harry moved from the shadows and knelt, hood falling back, by the stone. "I did, but my heart died with him. I will never be his Caru again."
Putting a hand on Harry, he never thought they would be friends, but they had become family. He had not seen Harry since Harry fled, but every once in a while he found a note for him in his warded rooms, wards even a house elf would set off, but were not. He knew he could convince Harry to come back, for he had, for he knew what few others, likely not even Remus knew, Harry had never left the war. He had been there, a silent watcher, protecting those left, who mattered at all to him.
Draco handed Harry a pendant. "Why do you do this? Do you think my father would be happy you waist away in his memory? He loved you more then all else."
Harry for a moment showed almost a touch of emotion."Your father was an idealist, and his ideals killed him. And with him went the Harry you knew, gone."
There had been a time when you could have read Harry's story in his eyes, his emotions dance like lights, the reason his eyes were so famous. His eyes were dull now, extinguished was the hope of youth, the promise of a future, the belief that good would always over come evil. He had watched one evil be replaced with another, and knew what his husband had told him was true, Voldemort he been a pawn in a bigger game. Voldemort had been a puppet, and Albus had controlled the strings.
Harry touched his kissed fingers to the stone. "I sometimes long for the days when our competition in quidditch was our big worry. How I took it for granted."
Draco stopped him. "Harry, think of what Albus will do. Think about the school which was once your home. We need you to fight for us one more time."
If Harry knew emotions any more, if he allowed himself to feel such human encumbrances, he would have felt anger. He would have been angry that they had the audacity to come demanding help from him, after all they had done to him, and his husband. They demanded he fight, they put a war on the shoulders of a child, and told him their hopes lay with him. And when he won, when he brought peace, what did they do? Did they thank him, did they honour him, hell did they just let him live in peace for once? No, they ignored his warnings, they called him a traitor, killed his husband and ran him out of his own country.
Harry went to leave."I am sorry Dragon but I am done fighting wars for others. I will not return, just to have them call for my blood again, when it is over."
Draco yanked him to a stop. "You were never a coward, not even when you were eleven and protecting the stone. The Harry my father loved, was no coward."
Coward, was he a coward to refuse to go back there, where he knew they wanted him dead? They sought his death before, they thought he was too powerful, when his mother's love alone had saved him from certain death. They would be even more scared, ready to kill him, when they saw what he had become.
He was shocked when his dad appeared with a bag. "I return to the UK with Draco this afternoon. I have made my choice, it is your turn to makes yours."
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The order had not wanted to get up their hopes, they had known the chances Harry would com back were slim, but they had. Only Severus had known it would never happen, and when Draco returned in a month, he was not surprised, except that Remus had come. His old friend, the last of his friends, had left his safety to come back. Draco shook his head, he had given Harry the pendant, but Harry refused to come back, certain it would mean death.
Fred slammed his remaining hand down on the table. "I will go to him, all of us will try, one of us will get through to him."
Remus shook his head. "My son will have slipped to some corner again. I was the only tie he had in France, and now I have left him as well."
He loved his son, and he had remained in the UK for two years, to be his eyes and ears. He could not remain in France for him any more, he could not simply turn his back on the war any more. He shared a look with Draco, and squeezed hands under the table, missed by all but Severus.
Severus looked around. "We have put a war on a child's shoulders too many times. Harry may not be a child any more, but it is time we learn to fight our own."
Moody who was having a lucid day spoke. "But who will lead us? None of us have the men or the power. He will destroy us all."
Most of them were unaware, but they would have died more then once, if not for Harry. Only Draco and Remus knew of his returns, but Remus doubted they would happen now, for his son had lost him now to. But as they argued, not one of them had noticed the figure in the door, not until Severus did.
Severus called out. "It seems I was wrong. Our prodigal hero had returned to us."
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