3rd Person POV:

Harry found that he had nothing to do. He had woken up this morning with plans to relax and watch the Quidditch players practice maybe. Of course, he had spent the first two hours doing just that, and then realized it wasn't even noon yet. He had so many more hours to kill, but what to kill them with? He honestly hadn't believed for a moment he would ever have time to breathe after defeating Voldemort, but here he was, sitting on his overly comfy bed, wondering what to do next. At the moment, he was just looking about his room, taking everything in, from the scarlet wallpaper to the plain wood floor, from the monstrous pile of clothes that he had made on the floor this morning when he was picking what to wear for his day of nothing, to the window with such bright light pouring through it and spilling over his room in a big mess of sunbeams, illuminating everything, and then over to his bedside table.

Of course! He knew exactly what he was going to do with the rest of his day.

Harry grabbed his ring from the table, the grey stone so oddly close to matching his skin, but so different from the gold that shone around it with black words that stuck out a mile away. He slipped it onto his finger and looked down at himself. He felt so foolish thinking he could just walk around without looking different to himself. His confidence in the ring was low. He sighed to himself and walked into the bathroom over to his full length mirror. He was almost startled when he actually did have light brown hair, and brown eyes, and an entirely different face. He looked taller. It's about time, he thought. Although Harry considered himself a man, he still turned around and made a few poses in the mirror, enjoying his new look. Harry Potter had left the building. He was Hyden Noah Lettone now.

He would still have to get used to that name. Maybe a nickname was in order.

For now, he figured it didn't matter. Who would he really meet anyway? He just wanted to walk around for a bit without being harassed by women.

With a turn and a crack, he apparated to Diagon Alley. He smiled as he walked, looking around at the people, who passed by him like he was no one important. Someone even bumped into him without apologizing! He was in heaven. He decided to venture out of Diagon Alley, going where ever the crowds were taking him. This way, and that way; down heavily populated streets, into shops and out of shops. Then, when that got boring, he tried filling empty places were few people were. On the corners of streets, and streets that branched off big ones; anywhere he felt was too empty. He wondered and wondered on further, reaching a completely empty street, and then a lonely park, and then a huge green field. He wasn't even sure where he was, or how he got there, but no one was there. He felt like an explorer, discovering distant lands no one dared to occupy.

He walked somewhere in the middle of it, though it was hard to tell on account of its large size; just because he looked taller didn't mean he was taller. His eyes scanned the horizon, finding absolutely nothing but grass all around him. He smiled and sat down wondering what exactly he wanted to do with his new territory. Of course, this was the perfect place to practice some wandless magic; no noise, no muggles, no worries.

A warm summer day, in a field of flowers. My mother is standing to my right, and my father to my left. Hermione is smiling before me, holding Ron's hand. Dumbledore behind them, with that twinkle in his eyes. Snape, smiling at me for once, next to him.

"Expecto Patronum". Blue wisps in a somewhat ball-shaped form appeared, tilting back and forth, like it was trying to sprout legs. In all honesty, it probably was. Hyden closed his eyes and felt his blood pump magic throughout his body. In this meditative state, Hyden was powerful.

Sitting in a grass field, not worrying about anyone recognizing me as Harry Potter, the Chosen One. Being able to do anything I want because no one can see.

"Expecto Patronum". This time, Hyden felt the magic inside him extend into the air, and take form.

He opened his eyes to a ghostly blue stag, looking into his eyes with thought. He smiled at it, and it mimicked his movement. Hyden stood, and the stag straightened. Hyden walked to the left, the stag followed suit. He smiled and decided to have some fun. Hyden began running around in circles, singing his favorite song, and watching his stag run after him.

"*I heard there was a secret cord, that David played and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music, do you? Well it goes like this: the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift; the baffled king composing. Halleluiah!" Hyden smiled and ran around some more. His stag was running around with him, same smile plastered on its muzzle. Hyden stopped, out of breath, and lay down on his back in the grass. The stag dispersed as Hyden let the magic be disconnected from his blood magic, and vanish into the air.

"Well your faith was strong, but you needed proof. You saw her bathing on the roof; her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you. And she tied you to her kitchen chair; she broke your throne, she cut your hair, and from your lips she drew the 'Halleluiah.' Halleluiah. Halleluiah. Halleluiah. Halleluiah. Halleluuuuuuuiah." Hyden's voice sounded different from his normal voice; it wasn't as deep, and so he didn't like it. He would rather have his voice that could make leaves tremble, and the Earth vibrate oh so warmly.

He wished he could be himself.

Of course, not too far away, another man was dead still, waiting to hear another sound. He had been lying down in the grass, daydreaming, when he had heard a noise. He had thought he was here alone. He wasn't even aware that others knew about his special, secretive place. He had heard someone else, right? Surely he wasn't hearing things. He very carefully sat up, and made sure he made no sound whatsoever.

Nothing. He looked around and saw what he had seen when he had arrived; just grass. He put his hand on the ground to stabilize his position, and a twig cracked rather loudly.

Hyden froze. That was a twig he heard crack. Someone was here other than him. Was it someone who wanted to attack him? All these thoughts ran through his mind instantly, but he soon remembered, he wasn't Harry Potter. He was Hyden Noah Lettone. No one wanted to kill him, wanted him in jail, or even knew him. The man cursed himself for being dumb. He should have known the moment he let his guard down that he would foil himself.

So much for being quiet.

Hyden sat up and instantly saw the man a little distance away. He had black hair, bright blue eyes, and rather well muscled arms (he noted). They stared at each other a moment before Hyden realized that he was not the colonizer he had thought he was, but more so a Christopher Columbus.

"Sorry," he said, "I didn't realize there was someone else here." The man nodded.

"Me too."

Hyden felt terribly awkward, like he was intruding in someone else's home.

"Uh…" he looked for what to do, and decided to give an introduction, since the situation couldn't possibly get more awkward.

"My name's Hyden." The man looked at Hyden.

"That's interesting."

Hyden was wrong, of course. The conversation only got worse as time progressed.

"Uh, are you going to say your name? That's typically what you do in an introduction."

"Oh, I didn't realize I had to introduce myself to a complete stranger who is in my field." Hyden sighed on the inside.

"Alright, then. Fair enough." He stood, brushed the grass off his clothes, and pulled his wand from his pocket without even thinking, about to disapparate.

"What do you think you're doing?" asked the man, standing up as well.

Hyden realized his mistake. What if the man was a muggle? He really should have thought that through. "Uh…."

"I didn't say you could leave." The man said.

So he's not a muggle, then. Bloody hell… I almost had a heart attack. "Oh. Alright." Hyden put his wand away, glad that he was lucky, even if he wasn't always smart.

"My name is Cygnus. Cygnus Holloster." He half smiled.

"Hello, Cygnus." Hyden gave a small wave of his hand, "So, this is your field?"

Cygnus shrugged. "More or less. No one else has ever come here. Just me." He looked back to Hyden.

"How did you find this place, Hyden?" Hyden scratched the back of his head nervously.

"Well, you see, there's a funny story to that. I was following this crowd of people for the longest time, and then I was avoiding it, and then I just kept walking, and I just found this place. I don't even know where we are."

Nodding, Cygnus eyed Hyden cautiously, evaluating the truth of his story. Considering that Hyden was not meek under his gaze, but rather shy, he guessed he was most likely not lying (unless he was some sort of talented actor, then he supposed he wouldn't be able to tell then).

"Alright."

He stood, waiting for Cygnus to say more, or explain why he had just simply said "alright". Instead, he looked into his blue eyes and heard silence.

Those blue eyes…

They were so intensely colored; they could have been a Glamour, or maybe his imagination. He had never met anyone with such bright eyes before now, and he found it rather intimidating that Cygnus stared right back into his eyes. Hyden almost suspected he could see through his disguise, but of course, that would be impossible...right?

Cygnus, on the other hand, was staring into Hyden's eyes, amazed at the size of them. In all actuality, they were the same size as anyone else's, but something about them, his irises maybe, that made them seem so large and warm, like an innocent puppy left on the street; He wouldn't bring the puppy home, but he would certainly make sure it found a lovely home. It wasn't that he didn't like puppies, but there were certain rules in his "house" that forbid them. But how he would love a puppy to take home…

"'Alright' what?" Hyden asked.

"'Alright' you can stay." Cygnus turned halfway, but then looked back to add, "But only if you sing me songs and dance around in circles again" with a grin.

Hyden scratched his head again. "You heard that?"

"How could I not?" It was a very true point. Cygnus had heard him from a mile away, especially the high notes. They weren't bad, really, but Cygnus preferred the lovely tremble of a base.

Hyden would be a great tenor, he thought, but secretly thought of a bit deeper, smoother singing voice that he had only heard once before, on accident. He loved it, and wished he could hear it again.

"Sorry. I was…uhm…just feeling free I guess." Cygnus smiled just a hair.

"I could tell." A moment of silence passed between them, a bit awkward, but Cygnus hoped to make it end.

"Oh, please, by all means, don't stop feeling free on my account." Hyden thought he was being sarcastic for a second, but quickly realized he was not. He smiled, showing his slightly unaligned teeth that did not belong to him

"Would you like to join me? There's enough freedom to go around." Cygnus truly and genuinely smiled now, like he was looking at a small child, whom he would accompany in their games.

"If I may start the song, then. It's an old favorite of…" he paused and continued like the word didn't sting after he said, "my father." I cleared his throat and looked sheepishly to Hyden.

"You may not know it."

"Go on then." Hyden urged.

Cygnus took in a breath and then began:

"*It's all the same, only the names have changed. Every day, it seems we're wasting away. Another place where the faces are so cold. I drive all night just to get back home." Cygnus took a step to his left, trying to get into some sort of movement that would jump start the running in circles.

"I'm a cowboy, on the steel horse I ride. I wanted, dead or alive." Hyden, of course, smiled, and went ahead and joined in with him. They started jumping around a bit, getting used to relaxing, and sang together:

"Sometimes I sleep; sometimes it's not for days. The people I meet always go their separate ways. Sometimes you tell the day, by the bottle that you drink; sometimes when you're alone, and all you do is think. I'm a cowboy, on the steel horse I ride. I'm wanted, dead or alive." By now, they had taken to jumping around like there was nothing else in the world. They needed this, not only to become friends and have fun, but to forget the things they thought were unforgettable. The carefree moment was so much more in value than either of them would have guessed.

"Ohhhhhh and I ride!" They chuckled to themselves, feeling absolutely silly, but continuing on, nonetheless. Hyden got onto his knees and pretended to play his guitar wildly; mimicking the guitar solo he had been listening to in his head.

"I'm WANTED, dead or alive!" Cygnus continued. He ran into Hyden and they toppled to the floor laughing their heads off, and rolling over onto the grass with their eyes to the clear blue sky.

Their laughter died down after a while, and thoughts made their way back into their heads; memories of other fun times, or the last occurrence of such foolishness. It was so very nice to feel like a child for once; to find a stranger of the same age, and to talk, and then to play like they had been friends for years, oblivious to anything else in the world. An eternity could have passed, and the children would play the same, regardless, not aging in mind nor spirit. Blue and brown eyes looked up at the sky, imagining if there had been clouds, what they would be shaped like, or if maybe they could find some wild flowers to make into bracelet, of course, they could always just make it themselves if they didn't find any…

Hyden was, of course, the first to sit up, pull out his wand, and begin to grow flowers in the grass beside him; Daisies, to be exact. Their little white petals appeared from grass blades, blooming in rapid motion not too far off from a sped up picked them, and began to weave them together with his hands, twisting one stem around another, and then that one around another, and the first around another.

Cygnus sat up alongside him, using his hands, he cast vapor into the air. Nothing happened at first, but before long, it all condensed and a white, perfectly puffy cloud, just a little too close to the ground, formed. He looked it over a moment, taking in its shape like an inkblot.

"Look," he said to Hyden at last. "It's a rabbit."

Hyden looked over from his weaving. He was almost done with his bracelet. "I don't see it." Cygnus pointed to the front of the cloud.

"See here? This is the tail" He pointed to the bottom, "the legs," and then pointed to the top, "and this is the head." Hyden had all the flowers he needed weaved in. Now all he needed was a wrist to put it around.

"Oh, I see it now." Hyden held out his hand and ordered, "Let me see your wrist." With great pleasure, Cygnus gave Hyden his wrist, and Hyden wrapped his flower bracelet around it, twisting the stems this way and that, then pulled out his wand and cast a spell to make sure it stayed, at least for a day or two. Hyden smiled at his work.

"Perfect."

Cygnus really looked at him, and saw for the first time. Hyden was the part of himself that he was missing; the childish, positively brilliant part that he had been forced to leave behind as a child. This was his new friend.

"Absolutely perfect." Cygnus added.

Here he was again. The Minister really was starting to grow a bit tired of this office instead of out and about like he used to be, sitting here 24 hours a day seven days a week, it seemed. Obviously, that was an exaggeration, since he needed time to sleep, and maybe a day off if he was lucky, but usually he came in to work anyway. So really, the seven days a week part is true, but the 24 hours part is not.

He was thankfully done with those foolish people and their desires to attend a certain party on May the 2nd (and not to mention the pure obsession they had with their hero, Mr. Potter). Really, every single one of the appointments had been absolutely pointless, and wasteful, and just plain odd. Of course, he would have some lovely stories to tell later on, as conversation jokes. Really, he did have a great one to tell.

A man had come in (not to long after the man who said he was Harry's father, alive and well) in normal clothes, nothing Potter-like about him at all. The Minister was sure his secretary had been mistaken when she had told him that the man was here to complain about the celebration. He wasn't rich, or poor, just in the middle. He had blonde hair, and brown eyes, nothing too off about this man at all.

The Minister had gestured to the chair before him, and the man sat down in a perfect, orderly fashion. He gave a professional smile and asked him

"What may I help you with today?" He thought that maybe the man was here for a more important matter. Of course, the Minister didn't care, as long as he stayed polite, like the others had not been.

"Well, Minister, it seems that I was sent the wrong message."

"Oh? What message were you to have received then, and what did you receive instead?"

"I was to attend the one year anniversary of the Dark Lord's demise in a few days. I had signed up, and so I expected to receive my formal invitation that I would take to get in, but it seems that I was sent the wrong letter, as this one says I was not invited. I signed up on the list, and I need my invitation," he held out his hand to the Minister, "if you please."

The Minister's smile fell a bit. "I'm terribly sorry to inform you, sir, but that list you signed up on was a request list. There still had to be approving done, otherwise anyone could be able to attend the party. The message you received was not by mistake."

The man stared blankly at the Minister, like the words had not made it quite to his brain. "Oh no, I did get the wrong letter. I signed up to be invited, not rejected."

"Yes, but not everyone was taken. Only a few were accepted to attend the May 2nd celebration." The man nodded vigorously.

"Yes, yes, I know. I signed up for that. I was supposed to get the acceptance letter." He obviously was not getting the picture, and so the Minister tried to approach from a different angle.

"Only people with ties to Harry Potter were accepted. Do you have any ties?" The man looked confused, but smiled.

"Of course, I've got one right here." He held up the red and grey striped tie that hung from his neck, "See? I have a tie. I should be accepted." The minister held his forehead in his palm and grumbled inside his mind.

"No. What I mean is relationships. Do you have any sort of connection to Harry Potter?"

"Oh" the man looked startled, "No, no, no. I'm not like that. I don't have relations with men." There was a moment of silence as the Minister stared at the man in disbelief.

"Connections" he repeated, "Connections." The man thought for a moment.

"I could send him an owl if you like, to keep connected with him. I'll be sure to tell him I don't want to have any relations with him." The Minister stayed calm, but he knew the man really was hardheaded.

"Are you any sort of family member of Mr. Potter's?"

"No" said the man, shaking his head.

"Are you friends with Mr. Potter?"

"No" he said again.

"Then, I apologize, but you cannot be allowed into the celebration, sir."

"But, I signed up!" The Minister looked down at his desk in thought, but then smiled to himself as an idea came into his mind. Oh, of course…he would make sure this man got what he wanted.

"Oh! You signed up? Well, that changes everything. You can't be seen attending the May 2nd celebration. You should attend the May 3rdcelebration." The man smiled and nodded.

"Yes, thank you."

"I'm so sorry for the inconvenience, sir." The man just smiled and waved, and left. The Minister was surprised that any man could be so gullible. At this very moment, his secretary walked into his office once again. He sighed out of habit and said "Who is next?" before she could say anything. She winced. She knew he was stressed about the celebration. She had insisted that he let the planner take care of all the complaints, but like usual, he handled the hard work himself.

"I was wondering if I could go on my lunch break, actually."

"Ah, yes. Of course. Have a nice lunch." He shooed her off with a smile and a gesture of his hand and pulled some papers out of his desk and began writing. He looked so busy…she hated to disturb him. She left quietly, leaving the Minister to finish his work in peace.

Draco's POV:

I was beyond frustrated. I wanted nothing more but to send a Bombarda at this stupid and useless object, but of course, I couldn't. It was attached to me. I pulled, and tugged, and cast a weak and wandless Finite Incantatem, but nothing seemed to work. I feared for my future. My father had wanted to further discuss what I was to say at the celebration on May 2nd, and so I was meeting him in the dining hall in a few minutes, and yet this thing was preventing me from doing so. It was just my luck that I would get into a situation like this.

So many things ran through my mind, all running into each other and going around and around in circles. I can't let him see this because he would beat me, but who cares if he does because then I would have a reason to move out, but then I'm sure he wouldn't let me, but then again I thought he hated me, because that is a good reason to beat people, but of course, I could wear a long sleeve shirt over it, but my only clean long sleeve shirt is my red one, and it does not match my almost-black blue pants, so he's going to see it if I go, but I can't go because he would beat me…

There was a knock at my door, loud and furious; I almost feared that my door would crash in on itself.

"Draco!" It was, of course, my father.

"What in Merlin's name is keeping you so long? Dinner is ready and we have much to discuss. I will not stand for this tardiness in my domain." I was running around, thinking of something, anything, that would save me from this. Being a Slytherin, I was usually good at that sort of thing, but the pressure to succeed in such little time was too much, and my brain turned to mush.

"Draco! How dare you keep me waiting!" His anger did not make his voice louder, but more sharp, and precise, like a blade that's purpose in life was to cut through body until it reached my very soul. "Come out here immediately!"

I thumped my forehead in a realization of an obvious solution, then cast a quick wandless spell to make my sleeves long. I opened the door sheepishly and looked up at my father. His face was beginning to turn the color of fire; yellow at the edges, but red in the middle. His head seemed to shake while he kept a quite but fierce tone.

"You should know better than to ever keep me waiting. Do you know how important this celebration is? The whole Malfoy name in on the line. You should be ashamed of disgracing our name, the name I gave to you!" I put up my arm in sort of a defensive move, because I knew his hand would be swinging at any moment. He grabbed my wrist, and prepared to slap me with his other hand, but froze at what he felt holding onto my wrist. He lowered his hand slowly and used it to pull back my sleeve. I tried to yank it away, but his grip was firm and I could not budge his hands. With my wrist fully exposed, his grey eyes, ice cold with rage, pierced me.

"What is this?" Really, I would rather he had slapped me. Nothing would get me into more trouble with my father than what he was staring at right now, that is, if I told the truth about it.

"It's quite obvious what it is." I said, not able to hold back my natural tongue. He slapped me anyway. My cheek burned red, with a feeling of a million tiny needles pricking my skin every second.

"Tell me what this is. Look at me!" I looked up, red cheeked and red brimmed eyes, to the helpless thing that still clung to my wrist.

"What is this?" he pointed to the only thing that had made me truly happy in the awful, bland days I had been here. A tear spilled over, and I confessed, looking at the innocence he was destroying.

"It's a flower bracelet."