Chapter Summary: The stresses of ever looming end of year exams result in an unexpected turn of events.
AN: This took forever to finish! I'm so sorry! I have no good excuse apart from feeling like death creatively. I did write an unrelated drarry one-shot if you haven't checked that out yet called 'A Strange Twist of Fate'.
Also, very exciting news, I'm finally going to Universal Studios and Disney for the first time ever, which means the Wizarding World of Harry Potter! Over the moon really. Haven't been this excited for something in a long time. Anyway, please enjoy the final chapter, and hopefully I see you all soon for more drarry goodness :).
After the Rain Falls
Chapter 13: Turn Over a New Leaf
The first week of June had been incredibly hectic. It seemed like everything was happening all at once. Exams were creeping ever closer, students were more on edge than ever, and it was one week away from the final quidditch match of the season, Slytherin versus Gryffindor.
With an abundance of energy circling about in the air, the pressure of the upcoming match, and the impending approach of O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, the hospital wing was practically overflowing. There had been an onslaught of accidents in a variety of classes due to stress ridden carelessness among the students.
A seventh year Hufflepuff had managed to singe every hair off their body after mistaking red spiders for clover mites in potions, causing an explosion that melted nearly every cauldron in the classroom. Several of Professor Snape's portraits had been hit as well, resulting in him sporting an even longer nose than usual for several days until an artist was available to come in to restore it. He'd been suitably angry, throwing out detentions at the slightest movement throughout each of his lessons as he dared anyone to comment on the perpetual drip of muddied brushstrokes hanging from his nostrils.
A very advanced and very incorrectly cast levitation charm left an entire classroom of Ravenclaws hovering upside down when the gravity in their vicinity was permanently altered in the opposite direction. It had been a hassle figuring out how to transport all of them to the hospital wing without losing one into the sky forever. Tethered all together and dragged along via a long floating rope, the rest of the student body watched as a bemused Professor Flitwick paraded them through the halls.
A fifth year Gryffindor had also had an unfortunate accident in transfiguration class which left him bedridden for an undetermined amount of time. Madam Pomfrey hadn't the faintest idea how to revert the half salamander transfiguration that had occurred to his lower half, even with the aid of Professor Slughorn and Professor McGonagall. Unfortunately, Alexander Hayes, the transfigured student in question, also happened to be Gryffindor's current first line seeker.
Yes, it was one week before the final quidditch match of the season, and Ginny Weasley, captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team, was an absolute wreck.
She sat across from Harry in the Great Hall, biting her nails off aggressively as she glared daggers at Mitchell Anderson down the table. He was their stand in, actually one of their chasers, who though great at being a chaser, was absolute rubbish at catching the snitch. Ginny had taken to randomly whipping practice snitches at him in the halls in the hopes it might trigger some kind of innate reflex, but thus far, he hadn't caught a single one. Mitchell cowered under the intensity of Ginny's gaze, looking more than ready to vomit up whatever breakfast he'd already eaten.
Harry eyed Ginny worriedly. At this rate, her nails would cease to exist entirely, and she'd be flying with bloodied fingertips in the match. She was a good captain, took the game very seriously. Just as seriously as Oliver Wood had, maybe even more so. Which was actually rather worrisome when he thought about it.
Beside him Ron was lamenting about their imminent loss, adding fuel to the flames. He muttered under his breath about Slytherin taking the cup, which honestly, was a given at this point. Slytherin's team was excellent this year. And even if Gryffindor managed to sneak in a last minute win, it was doubtful they'd be able to knock them down from their over three hundred point lead. But it was the principle of the entire thing. Slytherin hadn't lost a single match. Harry understood Ron's desire to put an end to their undefeated winning streak. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do to help.
He sighed and took a sip of pumpkin juice, jolting as a rather large barn owl landed clumsily on his shoulders. It pecked at his hair until he wrangled the letter tied to its leg away, and then flapped its wings aggressively before taking flight. Harry wiped off his robes and attempted to flatten his unruly curls to no avail as he eyed the envelope curiously. It was rather fancy looking, with thick marbled parchment, and elegant calligraphy across the front. As Harry flipped it over he froze, recognizing the seal from the Ministry immediately.
There were very few things that could be.
Harry's fingers trembled slightly as he broke the seal before sliding the parchment inside free. He fumbled it a bit between his palms, before finally setting it down in his lap to read.
MINISTRY of MAGIC
DEPARTMENT of PATENTS and INNOVATION
Department Head: Sonia Elderberry
Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that your recent innovation, the Seizure Stopper Solution, has been approved for use in witches and wizards over the age of ten, with a guaranteed effectiveness for the duration of five to seven and one half hours.
Please see attached a list of recommended dosages by age group, based on research conducted in trials under the observation of St. Mungo's healers. Find also attached, your official patent, written in the names of Harry James Potter and Draco Lucius Malfoy, as well as documentation pertaining to royalties for licencing and sales through official Ministry approved channels.
Congratulations on your significant achievement in potions making.
Yours sincerely,
Gloria Birchwood
Head Potions Master for Incurable Maladies and Magical Advancement
Ministry of Magic – British Division
Harry stared down at his lap with wide eyes, fingers splayed over the parchment in disbelief. He read it twice more, just to be sure. His fingers shook as he shuffled the letter around, glancing over the patent and dosage listing intently. His heart thundered in his chest as the realisation of what he was reading finally settled in his mind. He felt his eyes burning, and he stood quickly from his place at the table, knocking several dishes to the side. His shining eyes searched the Slytherin table hastily and almost immediately found Draco's wide blue gaze staring right back at him. There was an identical letter clutched in his fingers, and Harry swallowed and wiped his face on his sleeve at the sight of the brilliant grin Draco directed his way.
As Draco stood and made his way over, Harry laughed hoarsely. "R-Ron, Ginny," Harry croaked. "I might just have a solution to your seeker problem."
"Professor, please," Harry begged, palms pressed flat on McGonagall's desk, the rest of the Gryffindor quidditch team standing just behind him. Draco was there too, lingering near the door to the office, and watching Harry silently. He'd offered to step in, to speak for him, but Harry needed to do this on his own. Still, he was glad for his support.
They made quite the sight, all crowded into the headmistress's office with determined expressions set upon their faces. McGonagall sighed heavily, adjusting her already impeccable posture as she peered up at him over the wire frames atop her nose. Harry could see her slowly giving in, her lips pursing tightly as she glanced between several sets of pleading eyes. She may have been headmistress, but she was still a Gryffindor at heart, and wanted her favoured team to have the chance at winning a single game that year just as much as the rest of them.
"There's always the risk of a match extending beyond five hours…," she spoke hesitantly, fingers tapping agitatedly against the wood grain beneath them.
Harry huffed and leaned forward. "When have I ever taken that long to catch a snitch," he insisted. His tone left no room for argument, and someone flinched behind him, likely surprised at the candid way he spoke to the headmistress of the school. McGonagall narrowed her eyes slightly, and it was a look that would have intimidated many, but Harry saw the gleam hidden in her stern gaze, the slight lift to her lips, and he knew…he had her. She stared at him unblinkingly for quite some time, but eventually sighed and broke eye contact, peering down at the patent Harry had practically shoved into her hands not all that long ago. She shuffled the papers, taking in all the details once again.
"Professor Brindlemore," McGonagall began, what are your thoughts on the matter, it's your house's team, after all," she stated, one eyebrow rising in question. Harry swallowed nervously now that the decision was in another's hands. He didn't know Professor Brindlemore as well. Didn't have the same relationship with her that he'd developed with McGonagall, as both her student and comrade in a war. His head of house stood silently in the corner of McGonagall's office, practically in the shadows, but she stepped closer as she was beckoned to join the conversation. Her fingers hung delicately in front of her body, holding tight to her wand as always. To Harry's surprise, Professor Brindlemore smiled tightly and raised her chin and the two witches shared a meaningful glance, gazes dancing with a collective enthusiasm to witness their former house succeed.
"Anyone with half a brain knows that Potter is the best seeker to walk these halls in a millennia. I'd have to be a fool to turn down the chance to win at least one game this year. As long as the rest of the team agrees, I see no reason why he cannot play," Professor Brindlemore conceded, and she smirked as the room was filled with loud whoops and cheers of agreement. Harry breathed in quickly, whipping his head back in McGonagall's direction. She had the final say. She just needed to confirm it. The headmistress made a show of pondering it, crossing her arms as she looked at each and every one of them in careful consideration.
"Please let him," Anderson blurted. "I'm actual rubbish. I couldn't catch the snitch if it was four times the size and floating right in front of my face. Don't make me embarrass myself in front of the scouts."
"Anderson's right, he is actual rubbish," Ginny added.
"Hey!"
Ginny merely shrugged unapologetically. "You're not half bad for a chaser though."
Harry hardly paid his teammates any mind, focused solely on McGonagall as she studied the entirety of the Gryffindor team. She met Harry's gaze briefly before tethering her fingers together atop the table in front of her. "Very well," she uttered, and Harry choked on what air remained in his lungs. The room burst into excited jeers, and McGonagall raised her hand, settling them down quickly. "With a few stipulations."
She stood then, shuffling the papers from Harry's letter back together and carefully folding them. "You are, of course, to take the potion, for any practices in addition to the match. And once prior to that to test its particular efficacy on you." Harry nodded eagerly as he watched her tuck the letter back inside its envelope. "The recommended dose only," she added quickly. Harry nodded again, reaching out to grab the envelope as she handed it back. Her grip held fast however, until Harry met her gaze. "And Potter, let me make this clear. If there is a single sign of something amiss, or if the game progresses beyond a length of three hours, you'll be subbed out. Immediately. No questions asked."
Harry stood up straight, a brilliant smile etched across his face. He could absolutely accept those terms. "I'll catch the snitch in the first," he claimed, his entire body thrumming with excitement at the prospect of finally getting back in the air. Draco scoffed behind him, but Harry's grin only widened further at the sound.
"I wouldn't expect anything less," McGonagall uttered, and with a rather fond smile, she finally released the envelope back into his trembling grasp.
The thick gloves felt heavy and unfamiliar on his skin, but not unwelcome. Harry clenched his fingers, stretching the decadent dragon-hide over the backs of his hands. The way they folded over his skin like they'd been moulded for him alone was somewhat entrancing. They were a gift from Draco. In celebration, he had claimed, for their success with the potion. Never mind that Harry hadn't thought to get him a gift in return. He had to work on that. But in Draco's own words, Harry was gift enough, which left him a stuttering fumbling mess of a thing, and completely incapable of holding onto his fork during breakfast. Draco seemed content to spoil him, in more than one way, and Harry flushed as he recalled the brief encounter they'd shared in a hidden corridor just a few hours prior. Rushed kisses, whispered words of support, and touches that Harry longed for even as he stood there with his heavy boots entrenched in an inch of mud.
It was a bit surreal, finally standing in the centre of the pitch, his broom in hand and quidditch uniform draped over his shoulders. He hadn't thought it possible. Harry watched the long robes flutter slightly about his ankles and swallowed before taking a deep breath.
He was nervous. But of course he was. He was ridiculously out of practise. Had only been able to test formations with the Gryffindor team once prior to the match. And the weather was poor, rain pattering against the grass and bouncing off his glasses, leaving streaks of moisture along the lenses despite the impervious charm upon them meant to keep them clean. His hair hung limply around his face, and he shifted uncomfortably as a gust of wind blew the rain harder against his skin. It wasn't an ideal situation. But Harry wouldn't throw it away for the world.
And that was how he knew, he was meant for this. Meant to compete, meant to be a part of a team. Meant to fly. Nothing excited him more. Or rather, hardly nothing.
Harry's gaze rose up from the ground and locked with Draco's across from him. He was just as eager, just as ready for a good game. His hair was wet and stuck to his face in thick blond strands, but somehow he still managed to look elegant and refined, as if he was above even the weather. Harry was pretty sure he didn't look half as good in his quidditch robes as Draco did, but it was clear that Draco disagreed. The blond smirked at him, eyed him head to toe as though mentally undressing him right then and there, and Harry blushed and licked his lips nervously.
He shifted atop the ground as Madame Hooch began her pre game speech. It felt suddenly as if his heart was in his throat. His fingers tightened about his broom handle, and he tried to steady his breathing, to calm his racing heart. Draco's head tilted slightly, drawing his attention, and he noticed the softened smile on his face. It was reassuring. He could practically feel Draco's fingers trailing in the hair at the back of his head, hear his voice whispering in his ear. Encouraging him, easing him down from an oncoming panic.
Harry tried to remember what it was like flying at the manor. Reminded himself of how fun it was to play against Draco. That he was doing this because he genuinely loved it. They'd be up there together. Even if they were on opposite teams. Draco…wouldn't let anything happen to him. He knew that. And besides, the potion had been working wonders for him. Sometimes lasting well beyond the projected time frame.
There was no need to be afraid.
Ginny shook Urquhart's hand in a vicelike grip, causing the Slytherin captain to wince slightly and scowl before stepping away. Harry swallowed as the first whistle blew, and he mounted his broom. He glanced around at the crowd in the stands up above them before meeting Draco's grounding gaze one last time. Draco's brow lowered. A challenge. One Harry wanted to meet head on. And then the whistle blew again, the snitch was released, and Harry pushed up off the ground.
He felt the wind in his hair and grimaced as the rain swatted across his face in tiny pellets. Cheers and screams echoed around the pitch along with the announcers booming voice.
"Don't think I'll go easy on you, Potter," Draco shouted over the wind, turning just slightly to take in Harry out of the corner of his eyes. Before Harry even had the chance to respond, Draco was off, soaring around the outer edge of the pitch at top speed, and Harry hurried after him. He couldn't hold in the laughter that bubbled up inside him, and he let it out as he bent low against his broom and rushed forwards in search of the snitch.
Harry wove in between the other players on the pitch, keeping one eye on Draco at all times. He mimicked any fast movements, and veered away a few times himself, chuckling at Draco's disgruntled face every time he realized it was merely a distracting ruse. The booming sound of the crowd thrummed in Harry's belly and he felt a rush of excited jitters run through his veins whenever Gryffindor scored. The Slytherin team was strong this year, putting up a competitive front. Slytherin pulled ahead, and Harry hunted more vigorously. He knew Gryffindor's only hope of winning was if he caught the snitch. But he couldn't help but stop and drift, staring down at the action below as he hovered weightlessly in the centre of the pitch.
It was a truly beautiful sight. Brooms whizzing back and forth across the pitch, the quaffle jumping from player to player. Harry dodged a bludger, snorting in surprise as he lost his grip for half a second before righting himself once more. It was so exhilarating.
At one point, Draco flew up beside him, close enough for Harry to spot the clumping of his pale eyelashes and the water droplets clinging to his lips. He took note of the concerned expression on Draco's face and smiled reassuringly in response. He was fine. More than fine. Draco floated there at his side for several minutes, watching him carefully, slowly drifting until their brooms nearly collided. Draco's gaze was full of fire as he eyed Harry intensely. His fingers twitched against the handle of his own broom, and Harry understood. It was tempting to forget about the match entirely. He wanted to lean over and press their bodies together entirely. To perhaps lick the raindrops away from Draco's skin one by one.
Then there was a flash of gold, taunting them as it streaked between their bodies and disappeared somewhere far below. And Harry burst into laughter at Draco's stunned expression before the two of them took off in search once more.
His robes clung to his body, wet against his skin. His face burned from the wind and rain. His heart thudded at every bludger that caught the tail end of his broom or nearly missed his head. It was completely perfect. Everything he'd wanted and more. And then the glittering gold finally appeared once again, darting around and leading him on a journey of its own. Harry tightened his grip and did what any self-respecting Gryffindor would and jumped head first into the fray.
It took one hour and five minutes for him to catch the snitch, and every single second of it was like a dream.
Draco rubbed the towel over his still damp hair one last time before draping it behind his neck. He lifted his bag over his shoulder and picked up his broom, staring down at it somewhat wistfully. In the end, Gryffindor had won. It was the last game of his career at Hogwarts, and he supposed he should be sad, but Draco wasn't all that upset about it. It wasn't as though he hadn't put up a fight. Harry was just…unreal. Completely unmatched in the sky, even after a year of hardly flying and with little to no practice with his team.
Flying with Harry at the manor had been an absolute joy, but this…this had been something else entirely. Their potion had given Harry real freedom. Allowed him to fly without inhibitions. He'd been so carefree in the sky. His movements were reckless, and yet controlled and precise. A complete contrast to the clumsy and fumbling steps he sported on the ground.
It had been an honour to fly against him.
Draco grinned as he recalled racing alongside Harry through the wind and rain. Nothing was quite as thrilling as having his hair flapping aggressively about his face, knees practically knocking into his opponent as they soared at top speed throughout the sky. There had been a moment where Draco had sidled up next to Harry, flying in tandem with him around the outer edge of the pitch. He'd been so tempted to grab him by the neck and yank him into a kiss, crowd be damned. That would have been a real show. But he wouldn't ruin it for Harry. His one game of the year, his one and only chance to show the scouts what he was made of. And merlin's beard had he ever.
The sight of Harry's blinding grin, even despite the horrid weather and rough nature of the game, spoke volumes. The sparkle in his eyes, the redness in his cheeks. The way his thighs tightened and shifted as he directed his broom in each and every turn. The entirety of the match Draco's heart had been in his throat. Fingers itching to reach out and touch something other than the snitch. He pushed the temptation aside of course, and focused all of his restless energy into the task at hand, fighting to end the game with everything he had. It would have been a complete disservice to Harry to treat it any other way.
Their playful jibes had returned tenfold, and the two of them taunted each other in teasing tones as they flew circles around each other and put their skills to the test. No one was like Harry. Draco had meant it when he'd said that it wouldn't be much of a challenge without him. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw both had decent seekers, but they simply weren't on the same level. The entire match had been pure, unadulterated fun. And the intense feeling of joy it had brought to Draco had yet to abate.
And while yes, Draco's heart had sunk briefly as Harry's fingers extended beyond his own, grasping the snitch away from him once again, he'd also felt so very proud. Draco had spent several minutes propped over the top of his broom after the match just watching as Harry embraced his victory, a secret smile lifting his lips at the corner. The Gryffindor team had practically tackled Harry one by one as they landed, and Harry had laughed in disbelief, his eyes shining with unshed tears. The victory had been well won. Draco couldn't possibly be upset at losing to the very best. Or to the man he loved.
And Slytherin had still won the cup after all.
Draco stretched his neck to one side and then the other, wincing as a few bones cracked along the way. The shower had done wonders for his sore muscles and wind weary form, but he still felt a bit knackered. There'd be celebrations well into the night, and Draco wondered how difficult it might be to make himself scarce. He wanted to hold tight to the content feeling still lingering within for as long as possible.
He pushed his way out of the change rooms, and had barely begun the trek back to the school when suddenly his arms were full of Harry. A still very sweaty, rain drenched Harry, who clearly hadn't had a chance to shower or change. He looked divine.
"Draco!" Harry gasped excitedly, his hands insistently tugging at Draco's robes.
Draco dropped his bag and broom carelessly to the ground, welcoming Harry fully into his arms. He was surprised to see him so soon. Draco had assumed that Harry would be spending hours with his teammates, soaking everything in. He sniffed at his hair, tucked his nose into the loose wet curls and squeezed. This. This is exactly what he wanted to hold tight to for the rest of the night. Just…this.
He was hesitant to let go, even as Harry began to squirm slightly in his grasp. It wasn't until he realized there was something scrunched between their bodies that he finally loosened his hold. Harry pulled away slightly, flushing as he flattened the envelope clutched between his trembling fingers. He glanced at it and back up at Draco with shining eyes. "I got an invitation to tryouts in the fall! For Puddlemere United!"
Draco's eyes widened and he held Harry tightly by his shoulders.
"You were right. They're looking for a seeker!" Harry added. He was practically shaking with excitement, and he held out the letter for Draco to read over. It was official, with the Puddlemere crest, and the signatures of both coaches at the bottom. Draco smiled and rubbed his thumb under the place it was addressed in Harry's name before reading through it slowly.
"Harry," Draco whispered, and he lowered his hands, looking down at Harry in awe. He was just…very happy for him. There was really no other way to describe it. Draco pressed the letter away in Harry's hands and brushed his hair out of his face, trailing a finger across his scar along the way. He'd look good in the robes. Especially since the uniform had just undergone a redesign, sporting sleeker and more striking elements. In a recent ruling, they, along with all teams in the league had removed their gold accents, so as not to detract from detection of the snitch. Puddlemere in particular had opted to replace them with onyx stones and marquina marble trim. The colours would complement Harry's eyes and hair far more than Gryffindor scarlet and gold could ever hope to. Draco couldn't wait to see him in them.
He wanted to say so much, congratulate him endlessly, but instead he asked, "Do they know?"
Harry teetered up on his feet and nodded quickly. "They do. Of course they've seen the articles in the prophet. But I told them about the potion, and they're willing to work with me through it. I might have to have a sub if games go over a certain length, at least for now, but…I get to play," Harry breathed. He tucked the letter away in his pocket and shrugged. "If I get drafted, that is."
Draco scoffed, unwilling to even consider such a ridiculous notion. "You will. You know you will. They know you will," he insisted. "They wouldn't have even considered it if they weren't already set on you."
Harry ducked his head and flushed brightly, and Draco's gaze softened. He reached out, gently tapping beneath his chin to lift it. "Hey. You were brilliant today," Draco said. "You belong up there." Harry grinned shyly and Draco felt his heart swell with emotion. "It was an absolute joy competing against you," he admitted.
"Just like old times, eh?" Harry choked out, his voice cracking slightly.
"Not quite," Draco spoke softly. Harry eyed him curiously and Draco settled his hand at the back of his neck. "It was even better."
Draco wanted to admonish himself for acting so sappy, but the look in Harry's eyes was worth it. He couldn't help but say such things when they made Harry so happy. That familiar urge, to do something reckless, surged in his mind, and Draco stilled, glancing around them nervously. They were being watched, not so covertly, both by students leaving the stands or lingering, and the press, with their cameras out and ready, but he found he didn't really care. Maybe…it was his turn to act a foolish Gryffindor for once.
He looked back at Harry, struck by how little the thought disturbed him. Merlin, but love made him stupid. No wonder Pansy felt the need to mock him endlessly for it.
"What?" Harry asked, eyebrows scrunching slightly in concern. "What is it?"
Draco breathed in deeply and leaned in close, his lips just next to Harry's ear. "I love you, Harry Potter," he uttered, breaths tickling at Harry's skin.
There was a sudden gasp of air, and Draco turned his head to the side just as Harry turned towards him.
"Dra-,"
Their lips pressed together, and Draco pulled Harry close, kissing him in front of everyone with intent. Harry froze in his grasp, eyes wide and full of love as he let out a soft squeak of surprise and clutched at his arms.
Draco understood.
There was something special about kissing in hidden rooms, behind tapestries, and shadowed corners after dusk. He liked sharing moments with Harry that were theirs and theirs alone. But kissing him in front of a crowd, with whispers and shouts, and hundreds of eyes zeroed in on them, felt just as exhilarating in a completely different way. Because now everyone knew, that Harry was his, and he was Harry's. Everyone knew, the hold Harry had on him. How absolutely besotted he was. Draco wasn't ashamed of this. And he wanted the world to know it. He wanted Harry to know it most of all.
Harry's form slumped as he melted into the kiss, his lips opening easily as Draco pulled him in by his waist. His head tilted, and Draco leaned over him, fingers grasping tightly in the hair at the back of his head. A camera flashed, but it went ignored, even as several followed not long after. Draco had no doubt this would be plastered over the covers of papers across the country by evening. When Harry was involved, it always was. He wondered what his mother and father would think of it. Of such a gross public display of affection.
But he found he didn't care. He didn't care at all.
He wanted to cut every photo captured out and add them all to his collection. Pansy could mock him all she wanted, it wouldn't stop him. Perhaps he'd make a game of it in the years to come. See how many kisses and special moments made the papers until the newspapers finally tired of the two of them altogether. He'd frame each and every one of them, cover the walls of their little flat with scenes of their love.
Draco lifted Harry up and gave him a little spin for good measure, taking joy in the sound of Harry's giggles before pressing him against the nearest wall and swallowing his little noises with his lips. He pulled away, just briefly, for long enough to mutter, "I love you so much, and I'm so very proud of you."
Harry choked out a strangled noise and looked at him, and finally those watery eyes couldn't quite hold back the tears any longer. So Draco kissed them away, one by one, settling their lips together intermittently in between. Eventually he allowed Harry's legs to fall back to the ground, but he stayed pressed into him against the wall well after. Draco ran his thumb along Harry's kiss swollen lips, eyeing them somewhat hungrily. He saw no real reason for them to be elsewhere, doing anything apart from enjoying each other's presence, however he was also cognisant of the still flashing cameras and rushed conversations of students gathering nearby. They'd given them enough of a show for one day.
"We've got a couple hours before your potion wears off. Should make use of it, don't you think?" Draco suggested, smirking slightly as his eyebrow rose in a teasing manner.
"D-Draco…," Harry stuttered quietly. He shook his head slightly, and pressed his knuckles into Draco's chest. "I should shower first."
"Mmm," Draco hummed, still caging him against the wall. "Let me help you with that. I happen to know a certain password, to a certain prefects' bathroom. And I'd very much like to get you out of this waterlogged uniform, in private."
Harry turned such a deep shade of red that Draco wondered if he was about to transfigure himself into something else entirely. With one last teasing laugh, Draco stepped away from the wall, allowing Harry to stumble slightly to the side as he adjusted his quidditch robes. Harry summoned his broom and bag, and with cameras flashing about them, and reporters shouting at them the entire way, Draco slipped his hand into Harry's as they made the walk together back to the castle.
It was hot. And steamy. And altogether a rather unpleasant experience. But Harry hadn't really expected anything less from his Potions N.E.W.T. examination. The entire atmosphere of the room was heavy with thick humid clouds, a mix of smoke from the hot fires beneath their cauldrons and by-product from the ingredients seeping into the air. Harry's curls were frizzed up around his face, wilder than ever, and sweat dripped down his neck as he finished crushing the last of his sopophorous beans. He pushed up his sleeves as he added them to the mixture before sitting back on his stool with a pleased sigh.
Draco had correctly predicted the potion they'd be tested on based on the scheduling of their exam. It was a new moon, and that was either a rather clever ruse, to throw them entirely off, or it meant they would be brewing Veritaserum. They had reviewed everything of course, but paid extra attention to Veritaserum, and Harry was beyond relieved when he sat down at his personal cauldron station and saw the silvery writing appear on the board ahead, confirming their suspicions.
He'd smirked and immediately gotten to work.
The first thing he'd done was scribble down the instructions he'd memorized in detail, double checking everything to make sure he hadn't missed a step. Then he made a list of all the ingredients it entailed, specifying exactly how each was to be prepared. And after that, it was easy to follow the steps. He couldn't believe this was something he used to detest. Though, he supposed having Draco around to constantly bolster his confidence certainly helped.
Thankfully, they were only required to complete the first part, and the examiner would ensure their potions were properly stored throughout the lunar cycle and set out to absorb the light of the full moon when the time came. This did mean that Harry couldn't be quite certain that he'd done everything perfectly, as he was not present to witness the change in colour and viscosity that would eventually occur. But he was fairly confident all the same. The colour, at least, was correct for this stage of brewing.
While his potion cooled, Harry worked hastily on the written portion of the exam, explaining the potion in full, describing the process, and outlining the properties of the ingredients and why they were prepared in a particular way. His writing was messy, but the information was all there, and Harry was rather proud of his work.
The examiner, a witch by the name Evelyn Harrower, paused at his station briefly, expression brightening slightly as she peered down into his cauldron intently. Which perhaps didn't say much, considering the cauldron at the next station over had melted through and started eating away at the floor and surrounding area just minutes prior. But as he handed Evelyn his completed essay, she glanced over it before addressing him directly. "Mr. Potter, I've seen your work on the Seizure Stopper Solution. Quite the feat, and at such a young age," she said.
Harry startled slightly at the compliment, but sat up and managed to babble, "Oh, thank you, ma'am. Though I can't take all the credit."
"From where I'm standing, it appears you have every right to take part of it at the very least," she assured him, with a pointed look down at his cauldron, and Harry's heart swelled. Apparently he'd done even better than he thought. "Whether or not you elect to pursue this field of study, I hope to see more from both you and Mr. Malfoy in the future."
Harry quickly glanced over at Draco, and based on his relaxed posture he'd been successful with his brewing as well. They shared a smile, and when Draco winked suggestively at him, red blossomed across Harry's face. Despite the teasing, Draco had become such a source of strength for him. And he actually liked working with him. Enjoyed the banter that came with discussing potential solutions. He'd grown to like potions, even, which was a miracle in itself. And grown to more than like Draco as well.
He couldn't even begin to imagine how different things might have been had they not been partnered for the term. If not for Draco, he wouldn't have even considered developing an inhibitor. He might have ended up putting all his efforts towards an earwax remover, like Hannah Abbott and Zacharias Smith had, for goodness sake. Which meant he wouldn't have flown, and he wouldn't have a potential career ahead of him at all. Would they even…be friends? It was certainly unlikely. After all, it was only through spending so much time with Draco that Harry had truly grown to understand him, and…love him.
And he only wanted that bond to continue to grow. In whatever little flat Draco managed to find for them. In whatever remote community on the coast. He saw no reason why they couldn't continue to brew potions together, as a hobby. He could picture it already. A quaint potioneering room, with just a few tables for cauldrons and preparation stations. Then an ingredients cabinet off to the side. A little bookshelf filled with notes. They could even harvest some herbs in a garden, and forage for the rest in the surrounding woods. Then spend their weekends elbow to elbow as they experimented with different concoctions for fun. And their evenings flying over the waves before falling into bed at each other's sides. Yes, actually, that sounded…quite nice to Harry. And something told him, it would to Draco too.
Harry beamed and nodded his head resolutely. "I'm confident you will, ma'am," he stated, also quite certain this was the happiest he'd ever been.
The early morning lights of Hogwarts reflected off of the Black Lake beautifully, and Harry stared back at the castle with hazy eyes. He couldn't believe this was it. That he was finally leaving. It was a thought that would have terrified him once. After all, Hogwarts had always been his home.
There had been a celebration of their official graduation, just the night prior, followed by a breakfast that morning and a formal send-off. This time, the first years boarded the carriages, just like the rest of the students, and all those leaving Hogwarts for the last time, exited the way they had first arrived, all those years ago, atop the rocking boats and back across the lake.
The motion of the waves was oddly soothing, and Harry leaned to his left slightly, shoulder gently bumping against Draco's arm. Perhaps it was overly sentimental, but it felt as though a place to call home was always with him now. He sensed it in the sturdy form sat next to him. Saw it in the stormy grey gaze that studied him. Felt it in the fingers entwined with his own.
Draco bent his neck slightly, leaning in close to kiss the top of his head, and Harry sighed happily. "It's been a good year," Draco uttered lowly.
"It has," Harry agreed. In fact, probably the best, he thought. He turned his head, and Draco leaned closer to kiss him, just as the giant squid breached the surface of the lake, waving them off with a long curled tentacle. Pansy tittered at them where she sat across from them, one elbow shoved harshly into Ron's side, while she pushed Blaise away to give herself more room on the bench. Hermione laughed at their antics, a seat behind, several books piled up beside her, and Gregory leaned over the hull quietly at the far end, watching the carriages flying above them towards the Hogwarts Express. They weren't as small as they used to be. And it was certainly a tight fit for the seven of them in one boat. But they'd managed. It only felt right to take the final trip together. After everything. Like a fresh start, a brand new journey. One in which their choices were entirely their own.
He tightened his fingers, feeling an answering squeeze, and then let his head fall against Draco's shoulder softly.
No, not probably, he decided. It was definitely Harry's best year at Hogwarts. The best year of his life, even. And it was only the beginning of the rest.
AN: A big thank you to everyone who's stuck with this until the end. Hopefully there will be a new story to come soon! I do have some one-shots planned to go along with this one as well, and when I ultimately upload them it will likely be as a part of a series titled 'After the Rain Falls Universe' on ao3. Here you'll just have to watch for them I suppose. You can leave a message here if you'd like me to notify you if that ever happens and I'll check back!
Find me on Ao3 and Tumblr as shinigami714, and on twitter as shinigami714fic!
