omi_ohmy | Fic: When a Tree Dreams (9/10)

Title: When a Tree Dreams (9/10)
Author:

omi_ohmy
Summary: Directly after the war, Harry is left lost and full of questions about his life. Slowly over the summer, and with the help of friends, he works out what will make him happy - or even who. Angsty, eventual slash & romance, HPDM. Rated R for later chapters.
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This fic was written for fun, not for profit.
Pairings/Characters: HP/DM, RW/HG
Rating: R (finally!)
Word count (this chapter): ~48,400 (~6,100)
Warning(s): Mostly misery and friendships, not much HPDM until later chapters.
Betas:

birdsofshore and

evilgiraff

Chapter One

<<Chapter Eight

A/N: This is the final chapter of When a Tree Dreams, although there is an Epilogue to come (which I will probably post in the next few days). And last week, when I said that Chapter Eight was one of my favourites? This one is my favourite. Also, we've definitely moved into 'R' territory now. Thank you for the comments and support, as ever.

Chapter Nine - Home

By the time they got back to Woodshade Cottage, Teddy was ready for sleep. He had cried whilst Flooing, and was all red-faced and snotty. As she soothed him in her arms, Andromeda fixed Harry and Draco with a knowing smile.

"Why don't you two go for a walk while I put Teddy to bed," she said, and they quickly agreed and slipped out the back door, heading towards the trees.

Light was streaming from the lowering sun, long, golden beams with dancing dust piercing through the gaps between leaves. Fruit hung ripening from the branches, and Harry realised that the trees formed a haphazard orchard. As soon as they were under cover of the leaves, Harry stopped thinking about where he was as Draco grabbed him, and pushed him up against a rather knobbly old apple tree. He pressed his body against Harry's, and put an arm possessively around his waist, his other hand leaning on the rough bark as he moved his face closer, and kissed Harry. The hand on Harry's side moved with firm pressure, and Draco's tongue met Harry's and then there was no thinking, just kissing and touching and holding.

Harry grabbed Draco's belt and pulled him closer. He felt as if he was melting, against the tree. No matter how close he pulled Draco, he never seemed close enough. He broke away from the kiss, and looked intently at Draco, whose eyes were wide and lips swollen. Slowly, deliberately, he reached up and unbuttoned the top button of Draco's shirt. Draco's eyes went even wider, and he licked his lips. He hung his head back a little as Harry unfastened the next button. Draco's skin was smooth, slightly flushed but still pale. Harry brushed, hard, across Draco's collarbone with the flat pad of his thumb, and Draco inhaled noisily. He undid another button, and bent forward to kiss the hollow below Draco's neck. Draco groaned, and moved his hand from Harry's side up to his face. He held Harry's head, his fingers moving through his hair, and pulled him up for another kiss. It was hot and hungry, and Harry was straining against his trousers, the world narrowed down to a pin-prick of desire. They rested their foreheads against each other, their breathing heavy and ragged.

"Draco," Harry moaned.

"I know," answered Draco.

They stood like that, for a moment more, then Harry brought his hand back to Draco's belt. Clumsily, he managed to pull it open, and freed it from its buckle. Then he undid the top button of Draco's trousers. He didn't know what he was doing, but he knew he just wanted to get closer. He slid his hand under Draco's underwear, holding his wrist at an awkward angle as his fingers searched blindly through the hot space, but it didn't matter when he felt the hot, smooth length beneath his fingers. His own breath shuddered as he squeezed gently, then found a way to grip and move. Draco's eyes, once so sad, were now burning, lost in pleasure. Unsteadily, Draco's hands found their way past Harry's belt and trousers, and into his boxers. His fingers were slightly cool as they touched Harry for the first time, and Harry whimpered at the sensation. They stood, half embracing, as they worked away at each other. Harry braced himself against the tree at his back, the rough bark digging into him. He didn't care; without it he probably would have fallen over. It didn't take long for him to feel Draco shudder, to feel the pulsing and the wet warmth in his hand. Draco's hand on him had stilled for a minute, but then started to move again. Harry was lost in the feelings of the moment, and as Draco's hand twisted around his head he too, came.

Draco let his head fall down into Harry's neck for a moment, inhaling his smell and leaving behind a small kiss when he stepped back. They managed to get their hands out of each other's pants, red marks showing where they had been trapped, the shine of wetness on their fingers. There was a fine sheen of perspiration on Draco's nose and top lip, which Harry had an urge to lick off. Instead he gave him a light kiss on the lips, which lingered into something slightly deeper before it ended. They sank down to sitting on the ground beneath the tree, hard roots marking paths away from them.

Draco produced his wand, and, smiling shyly at Harry, whispered a quiet tergeo at both their crotches. Harry felt a tingle and a sting, and the feeling of wetness was gone. He wiped his hand on the leaf litter on the ground, and Draco did the same. They sat back against the tree, their sides warm against each other. Harry reached for Draco's hand, and Draco rested his head against Harry's shoulder.

"I've never done anything like that, with anyone," said Harry quietly. Draco turned his head to look up at him.

"Me neither," he whispered, his fingers tracing a pattern along the back of Harry's hand. Harry looked at him, watching his eyes open and close, his eyelashes, invisible from a distance, quite clear this close. He had looked so many times before, but now he could touch. He reached across his body and gently stroked across Draco's eyes, down the side of his cheek, all the way to his ever-so-slightly pointy chin. He smiled.

"I don't know why it was so hard for me to accept that I wanted to touch you," he said.

"Sometimes, I thought I saw you looking, but I convinced myself that I was imagining it –wishful thinking– but now I'm not so sure," said Draco, with a smile. Harry laughed, a little ruefully.

"I think I was doing a pretty good job at persuading myself that I was imagining it too," he sighed.

They sat, close, occasionally exchanging words, until they heard Andromeda call them, her voice floating out to them on the breeze. They stood, stiffly, brushing odd bits of leaf and insect off themselves, and for the second time that day, tucking and straightening themselves before they went to find her. The trees whispered, the coolness of the shade spreading out as the sun began to dip in the sky. Birds chirped and insects hummed, in a final burst of life before the day's end.

oOo

Andromeda had made a simple meal of potatoes, salmon, beans and tomatoes, glistening with dressing, and a fresh, green salad. She opened a bottle of wine, and poured them all a glass. The atmosphere was warm and comfortable, as they chatted about Teddy, and about Hogwarts. Draco told Harry about how he had been working on strengthening spell-blasted walls inside the school. McGonagall was his Wizangamot-nominated witch to report to, and so far she had been kind and fair. Just like before, Harry was aware of where Draco was, but this time it was a feeling of warmth, just short of a touch. And Harry and Draco touched often, an accidental brush of hands on the table, or a deliberate pressing of legs together. By the time the sky had faded to a pale blue and blush, the sun having made its way down to the horizon, Harry was aching to touch Draco properly. He felt Draco's hand begin to rub gently, up and down his thigh, and gulped down some wine. Judging by the way his hand was moving, Draco felt the same.

Harry made one last attempt at rational conversation. He was enjoying Andromeda's company, and had something important he wanted to ask her.

"Andromeda," he began, nervous and a little distracted by the presence of Draco's hand on his leg, "I have something I'd like to ask you, if I may."

"Yes, Harry?"

"I'm not sure if it's ok to ask, but..." he took a deep breath before continuing. "As you know I'm living at number twelve, with Kreacher. I inherited both from Sirius. But I'm not sure that I want to stay there, permanently. Also, although I have started getting used to Kreacher, I'm not comfortable having him at my beck and call."

"So what would you like to ask me, then? Something about the house and Kreacher?"

"I wanted to ask you if you would like the house, to live in with Teddy. You could have Kreacher too. It– they're both yours too, in a way."

Andromeda looked intently at him, a slight frown on her face. Something wistful passed across her face, and then it was gone. With a sigh she shook her head. "Thank you, but no, Harry. I love this house, and the memories of Ted and Nymphadora it carries. And I want Teddy to grow up with the fields and the trees, just like his mother did. It might not be big, or grand, but it's a home," she smiled kindly as she spoke. Looking around him, Harry knew she was right. "Do what you want to do with the house. I don't know what to suggest about Kreacher," Harry nodded, a little disappointed that she didn't have any easy answers, but at the same time able to see that there probably weren't any.

Her eyes were still fixed on Harry, and he could see she had more to say. "Harry, I know that you've been of age for a year now, but however much you may feel you have to be an adult, and make serious decisions about your life and your future, you don't have to make them all at once," she smiled gently and moved her gaze over to Draco, then back. "You've already made one huge decision today, Harry. Don't you think that's enough, for one day?" Harry felt Draco squeeze his leg, and he lowered his hand to squeeze it back.

"I guess so," he said. "It's just that after everything that happened, everyone kept saying that I needed to work out what I wanted to do with my life. I'd never thought past what would happen if Voldemort died." Both Andromeda and Draco flinched when he said Voldemort's name, and Harry stroked Draco's hand soothingly with his thumb.

Andromeda recovered quickly. "Oh, don't worry," she reassured him, "you will work it all out. You can't see how far you've already come," Andromeda looked thoughtful for a moment. "I do have one idea, though. Perhaps Kreacher could come here to help me sometimes, to give you a bit of a break from him, and to make things easier for me, too." Her eyes were twinkling as she leant forward, a conspiratorial glint in her voice, "Harry, take it from someone older and wiser than you: cleaning and laundry are boring and time-consuming, and if you can get some help getting them done, don't turn it down." Harry burst out laughing, and a second later so did Draco. She watched them as they calmed down, delight and affection clear on her face.

Harry smiled shyly at her. "That sounds like good advice, and, er, it sounds like a good idea. I'll talk to Kreacher and see if we can make it work."

Andromeda sat back, a satisfied smile on her face. "Good," she said. She yawned. "And on that note, I think it's time I went to bed," and as she stood up she looked at the dishes on the table. "Perhaps you two could help an old dear and get these sorted. And then," she added, eyes on Draco, "I expect I will see you when I see you. It has been lovely having you here, and you are always welcome, dear nephew, but if you find a... better offer, I will understand." Draco rose and kissed her gently on the cheek in silent thanks, and she went upstairs to bed.

Harry and Draco were left alone in the kitchen. Harry got to show off some washing and drying charms he'd learned from Kreacher, and soon they were stood by the open door, looking out over the dark night. Draco put his arm around Harry. His hand ran up and down Harry's side, insistent, hungry for more. Harry shivered, from more than just the night breeze. "Let's go home," he whispered, and Draco nodded and pulled him closer for a kiss. The kiss was greedy, with what felt like hours of waiting poured into it. They pulled back and smiled at each other. "No running away, this time, Harry," whispered Draco, and Harry answered him with another kiss, slower, more tender this time.

They quietly locked up, then made their way to the fireplace to Floo back to Grimmauld Place. It took a little longer than it should have, as they had to stop when Harry pushed Draco up against the doorframe for a long and lingering kiss, his hands straying down Draco's back and just under the top of his trousers, grabbing a handful of flesh and pressing their crotches together. Draco broke away, panting, and growled, "let's take this home, Harry." A thrill passed through Harry at hearing the rumble in Draco's voice, and finally they dragged themselves apart and made it to the other side of the room.

They fell out of the Floo, and landed in a tumbled heap on the rug in front of the fireplace in the drawing room at Grimmauld Place. The room was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight coming in from the window. They didn't bother getting up. They turned to face each other, still for a moment in the moonlight. And then Harry began to unbutton Draco's shirt again. As each button slipped through the narrow slits, Draco's breathing hitched a little. Inch by inch, his skin, silver-white in the darkened room, was revealed. Harry could see his chest, rising and falling, his ribs beneath his skin. When the shirt was completely unbuttoned, he went to pull it off, but Draco stopped him. His fingers were hot and firm on Harry's wrist.

"Wait, let me..." he said in a low, intense voice. And then he reached over and undid Harry's tie, pulling, easing, sliding it off. He popped each button of his shirt undone, and Harry found himself holding his breath in anticipation of each moment of pressure then release. They sat facing each other, shirts hanging open. Draco ran his hand across Harry's chest, leaving the trail of fire again. Then Harry eased Draco's shirt off. His hand froze as he saw the shine of the thin scar running across Draco's chest, all the way from his left collarbone down to the edge of his right hip. It was worse now, knowing how much it had hurt Draco, more than just physically. Harry ran his finger down the whole length of the scar.

"I was so stupid," he said, "I'm so sorry I hurt you."

Draco gently took his hand and looked him in the eyes. "It doesn't matter now, and you weren't the only one who was stupid," and with that he turned his arm so Harry could see the Dark Mark. Seeing the symbol of so much hatred on Draco's arm was hard, but it seemed to symbolise so much more now. Harry reached out, but only touched one edge as Draco flinched away.

"It doesn't mean what it did," whispered Harry. "It means you have seen death and known fear, but it doesn't mean it is your life now," and he reached up to touch his own scar. After all, the reminder that he had carried a part of Voldemort's soul for years seemed darker than a tattoo. "We've all been marked, one way or another."

He reached out and put his hand under Draco's chin, tilting his face up for another kiss. Draco responded slowly, but then with increasing enthusiasm, ending with him pulling off Harry's shirt and wrapping his arms around his bare torso. It just felt right, naked skin on naked skin, yet not quite enough. They clung to each other for a moment longer, hands seeking out the length of their backs, the curve of ribs, the outline of shoulder blades. Everywhere that Draco's hands ran burned with the fire of desire, and Harry felt his body waking up, responding to the touch.

With impatience they undid each other's belts, buttons and zips. Awkwardly yet seamlessly they pulled off and wriggled out of trousers and underwear until they were both naked, panting and sitting on the floor. Their eyes had adjusted to the half-light, and the moon seemed bright as its light streamed in, transforming all it touched to cold silver, the colour bled out. Harry, fully erect himself, looked down in wonder at Draco, hot, hard and leaking a single drop, shiny in the light. Although he had touched it before, it was something else to be confronted with such obvious arousal. A voice in the back of his mind told him that he should have been scared of this new intimacy, but he wasn't. He just wanted more.

He reached out and touched the hot flesh, feeling the warmth beneath his fingers as a kind of home-coming. Draco's eyes were fixed on him, and he reached out and touched Harry too. Harry squeaked with the relief of feeling Draco's hot skin on his, and Draco smiled, then licked his top lip. They leant forward for an intense, dirty deep kiss, then shuffled closer, until their cocks were touching. Draco held both in his hand, and Harry covered his hand with his own, and they moved together. Harry's whole body felt afire now, but all his awareness was focused on his hand, his cock, and Draco's. All he could hear was their breath, rough and ragged, filling the room. He bit his lip and lost himself to the sensation of touching and being touched, until he cried out and came, just about aware that Draco did too.

They sat back from each other, breathless but grinning. Draco shook his head and laughed. "How long did we live together here? And we weren't doing this all the time?"

"There's still plenty of time for more," said Harry, smiling but shy.

"Mmmmmm," said Draco. He started feeling round in their discarded clothes for his wand, but Harry got there first and cast the Tergeo this time; the shiver of his spell work feeling more familiar than Draco's. They moved round a bit, so that their backs were resting against the side of the settee. The rug was a little itchy against their naked arses, but neither had the energy to move much further.

"Harry," asked Draco, "did you ever think of doing that, before?" Harry thought about it for a minute.

"I would have said no if you'd asked me before, but that first night you arrived here, all wet, or any time I saw this," and he reached over and placed a hand on Draco's stomach, trailing his hand lazily down, "I would become a little... distracted." Draco ducked and grinned.

"I had some good Quidditch-inspired dreams at school," Draco said in return. "There's something about the way you handle a broom," and he waggled his eyebrows. Harry gave him a little shove as he saw the smile on Draco's face.

Draco yawned, stretching slightly, and Harry appreciated the movement of muscle beneath his hand. "I'm tired, Harry, but there's no way I'm sleeping here," and he stood, pulling Harry up. Carrying just their wands, they made their way upstairs together, naked and happy. As Draco walked in front of Harry, despite the fact that he too, was now yawning, he couldn't resist reaching up and squeezing the arse moving in front of him. He was rewarded with another growl from Draco, and they kissed again, their mouths and hands hungry, at the too of the stairs. There was a moment when they looked at the two doors, before Draco pulled them into Harry's room and flung Harry onto the bed. Draco pinned him for a minute, giving him one more deep kiss before rolling off and yawning again. "Time to sleep," he said, and they stretched out, side by side, Draco's hand resting on the edge of Harry's hip, and went to sleep.

oOo

When Harry woke, light was streaming in, bright and clear. It was obviously not early morning. He stretched, deliciously, and felt a thrill as his leg brushed against Draco's. Draco was still asleep, naked and sprawled across the bed. Harry looked at him with appreciative eyes. His limbs were long and strong, muscle tight beneath the skin. A haze of blond hairs covered his legs, sticking out from below the sheet. Draco's chest and stomach were warm when Harry ran a hand down them. He blinked for a minute. How had he gone from where he was yesterday morning to where he was now? In the end, he supposed, he had just had to trust himself, but it had been hard. He smiled. It felt right, having Draco here. He still had no idea about the rest of his life, but he knew he was glad he'd accepted this.

Harry quietly got out of bed and went to pee. Just as he got back into the bedroom, looking forward to getting back into bed and waking Draco up, he heard voices from downstairs, calling his name. He forgot that Ron and Hermione basically treated Grimmauld Place as their home too. This was going to be a tad tricky, but there was no avoiding his friends. Draco opened one eye and groaned.

"That's not who I think it is, is it, Harry?" he asked, sleep still making his voice fuzzy. Harry reached down and kissed him lightly.

"Don't worry, I'll go deal with them."

"Er, Harry, any chance you could retrieve my clothes while you're there?" This time it was Harry who groaned. He hauled himself up and quickly put on a t-shirt and some pyjama bottoms. With one last look at Draco, he opened the door and made his way downstairs.

He found them standing in the hallway.

"Oh Harry, do you ever get out of bed in the morning? Honestly," grumbled Hermione. They followed him into the drawing room, where he hastily scooped up the clothes lying scattered near the fireplace.

"I, er– um, excuse me for a minute," said Harry, and he left the room, cheeks ablaze, and took the stairs up to his room two at a time. He opened his door and threw the clothes onto the bed. Draco, sat up in bed and laughing, blew him a kiss, and Harry shook his head and stuck his tongue out in return before rushing back downstairs. He found Hermione with her eyebrows raised, and Ron frozen to the spot. There was an awkward silence, which lasted far longer than was comfortable. In the end Ron broke it.

"Harry, mate, what did you get up to last night? Actually, I don't think I want to know," he mumbled, shaking his head. He took a few steps backwards and stumbled into the settee. He sat down.

"I– er," Harry stuttered and blushed. He looked between his two friends. This wasn't quite how he would have chosen to tell them about him, or about Draco. But he could see there was only one way this conversation was going to go. He eyed Ron apprehensively. He had no idea at all how Ron was going to react, although his current shocked look didn't bode well. "It all– I've only just–" he broke off, each false start bringing him no closer to finding the words he needed.

The sound of doors opening and shutting, and of footsteps on the landing distracted them all.

"Harry?" asked Hermione, "Is there someone here?"

"Er–" said Harry, "well, there's Kreacher, I suppose." Hermione fixed him with a sharp look.

"That doesn't sound like Kreacher," she said, as they all heard another heavy creak from upstairs.

Awareness slowly dawned on Ron's face. "Did you pick someone up last night?" he asked, "When did you find time? I thought you went straight to Andromeda's last night." Harry watched Hermione's eyes widen as she began to put two and two together. The expression on Ron's face was still somewhere between disbelief and the beginning of understanding.

"I–" Harry started, but before he could continue the door to room swung open, and Draco stepped in. He was wearing his clothes from the day before, now noticeably creased and crumpled. As if they had been lying on the floor all night.

"Granger, Weasley," he nodded at each as he said their name. Then he turned to Harry, "I'm just going back to my aunt's to get my things. I'll... I'll see you later, Harry," he added softly. He took a step forward as if to kiss Harry, but changed his mind and went to the fireplace instead. Draco took a handful of Floo powder from the large shell on the mantelpiece and said "Woodshade Cottage" very clearly before stepping into the the green flames and disappearing.

"Er, Draco's moving back in?" offered Harry tentatively, knowing it wouldn't be enough. Hermione blinked a few times.

"You worked out your differences, then?" she asked, dryly.

"You could say that, yes," mumbled Harry, looking down at his toes.

"Is there something you want to tell us, Harry?" asked Ron, his voice tight. He was sitting absolutely still and looking a little pale too. Harry sighed and came to sit down opposite him. Hermione sat down next to Ron and held his hand, and they both looked at Harry, expectantly.

"I, er, I've had a lot of time to think about things, the past few months," began Harry, nervously. "When Draco came to stay we kept out of each other's way, at first, but in the end, we started to spend more time with each other. Eventually, I think we became friends," he looked up. "But you knew that already," he added, and Hermione nodded, although Ron just kept staring at him. "When he... left, I found out that he... liked me. You know, liked me. It– I was confused by it. I started thinking about how I felt about him. I missed him," Harry stopped, unsure of what to say next.

"I thought it might be something like that, that night we were talking with Luna, in the Three Broomsticks," said Hermione, slowly. She looked at Harry, carefully. "Do you remember what I said that night, Harry?" she asked. Harry looked away as he thought for minute. Then his eyes shot back to her, and he was suddenly aware of how tight his chest felt, of how tense he was.

"You said that you would be my friend no matter what I worked out, that you wanted me to happy," he whispered. Hermione nodded. The memory of Hermione's words was enough to give Harry the confidence to go on.

"So I have done lots of thinking, and Draco... Draco helped me to realise, to accept that..." he trailed off and looked at their faces. There was nothing for it but to say the words. "I'm gay. And I'm... I'm with Draco," he added in a whisper at the end.

There was a long silence after his announcement. Hermione was smiling slightly and biting her lower lip, looking emotional. Ron was still pale, but there was a flush to his cheeks that could have been anything. Harry was surprised when Ron was the first to speak.

"Do you remember what I said, Harry?" he asked. He didn't wait for an answer, but continued straight away. "I said that all you needed was love, Harry. I'm a bit... surprised about where you've found it, but if you're happy..." he shrugged. Harry was shocked. Ron looked like he had more to say, though, and, after a brief struggle to get it out, he asked, "But what about Ginny? If you're gay, what does that mean you had with my sister?"

Harry sighed. It was a good question. "I cared about Ginny, I still do. But as a friend more than anything else. There was just something... missing. And I've grown up a lot since we were together. She, er, she knows, about me. And, er, about Draco."

"She knows? Since when?" asked Hermione, shocked.

"Since yesterday–" started Harry, but he was interrupted by an angry Ron.

"Yesterday? She didn't... she didn't see you, together, did she?" he asked, his voice rising. Harry quickly shook his head.

"No, she came to find me, and we talked, and then she took me to Draco. If it wasn't for her, we might not have..." Ron sat back, stunned. "She's the bravest person I know, Ron. I don't want to hurt her, you have to believe me. I think we're ok though."

"I think I'm going to need a bit of time to get my head round all of this," said Ron, eventually. "But I'm happy for you, I am. I'm glad you've worked out something so big about yourself, about your life. I know how much better I felt once I worked out who I wanted to be with," he said and he gave Hermione a squeeze. She smiled at him, proudly.

Harry looked at his friends and smiled, the tension in his chest easing a little. They never ceased to amaze him, and he did truly love them for it.

"How about we go downstairs and get a cup of tea?" he asked, and they went off in search of a cuppa.

oOo

Down in the kitchen, they found Kreacher, hidden away, looking morose. His face lit up when Harry asked for tea. Hermione looked uncomfortable, and Harry resolved to talk to her about his issues Kreacher. She might be able to help him decide what to do. But not right now.

Harry managed to get scrambled eggs and toast, as well as tea. He was happily eating, and the mood had relaxed somewhat, when Hermione turned to Harry.

"Look, this probably isn't the time, but the reason we came over today was to talk to you about Hogwarts. Term is starting soon. A bit late, obviously, because of the rebuilding. They've worked something out with shorter holidays and more timetabling—", Ron groaned and rolled his eyes, and Hermione frowned at him before continuing, "—and I want to know if you're going to go back. McGonagall said she didn't want to ask you too many times because you 'seem a young man with the weight of the world on his shoulders', but I have no such qualms."

Harry looked at her. There was a gleam in her eyes that he knew well. "You're going back, aren't you?" he asked. She nodded. He knew she meant Ron was going back too.

"That shouldn't affect your decision though, Harry," she said softly. "It's up to you, and you alone," she tapped him, once on his arm, then withdrew. Harry closed his eyes for a minute. He could feel an idea forming, deep inside. He knew that once it reached the surface of his mind, he would know what to do.

"I'll think about it, really, I will. I know I should have been thinking about this already. I have a bit, but..." he trailed off, "I guess I've had other things on my mind." He looked up at her shyly. "I wouldn't mind talking to Draco about it, too," and he held up an hand to stop her before she could interrupt. "And I know it's not his decision either, well, apart from him. If the offer's open to him, that is," he frowned. Hermione gave him a look which indicated that she didn't know if it was. He sighed. "I'll be ok, you'll see."

They chatted a bit more after that, about Hogwarts, about their friends, even about Draco. Harry told them that he hoped they would get to know Draco, that Draco had changed. They didn't say much in response to this, but Harry hoped they would try, for his sake. Ron told Harry a story about Neville and Luna which had him crying with laughter. He felt his insides finally unclench and relax.

In the end, Hermione stood up, and Harry knew it was time for his friends to go.

oOo

After they left, Harry went into the garden. He had spent more time there at night time than during the day, and he barely recognised it in the bright sunlight. Looking around, he decided that it was time to do something about it. It could be a lovely garden. The sun was warming his shoulders when he heard someone clearing their throat behind him. He turned, and there was Draco, still in his crumpled clothes. Harry smiled, as he felt his heart lift. Draco crossed the space to join him, and stood close, taking Harry's hand in his.

"How did it go?" he asked.

"Fine," said Harry, "it was fine." He rested his head against Draco's, ever so gently. "They're going back to Hogwarts, soon. They want me to go too."

"What did you say?" asked Draco, his voice uncertain, vulnerable.

"That I don't know. I– I might want to. I'm not sure if I'm ready to take on all my adult responsibilities yet. It would be a way to take back a bit of what I lost, I think," the thoughts were just starting to become clear in Harry's head, as he spoke, bubbling and rising to the surface. Draco was silent. "I'm not sure if I'd want to do it without you, though," he added.

"McGonagall did offer," Draco said quietly, "but I'm not sure. I... I have to think about it."

"That's what I said. I know it's my own decision and yours is yours, but we are in each other's lives now," he pulled away and looked at Draco. "We'll figure this out, together," and Draco nodded, then pulled Harry back towards him.

After a while, relaxed and sleepy in the sun with Draco's warmth to hold on to, Harry thought to ask about Draco's day. "How was Andromeda?"

"Oh, Aunt Dromeda was lovely. She made me food and I played with Teddy. The usual," and Harry smiled. He'd only really known her a day, but he knew what Draco meant.

Standing among the brambles and other weeds, Harry was beginning to get too hot, and a little sweaty. He wanted to be a little more comfortable.

"Let's go upstairs. We both need to wash and get dressed properly," he suggested, and he pulled Draco towards the kitchen door. Together they made their way upstairs. When they got to the landing outside Harry's room, Draco nudged him towards the bathroom instead. Harry's eyes widened as he understood Draco's intent, and he happily pushed Draco ahead of him.

Outside, the sounds of the water and the echoes of voices moved by pleasure floated in the air, and became lost amongst the sounds of beetles crawling, birds singing, leaves flapping and fluttering, and plants growing. The world changed, slowly and inevitably, all around them, as it always does. The trees stood swaying and spreading their open leaves to the sun. They waited for the quiet stillness of winter, when they could sleep and dream of magic and love, soaring high in the sky.

>>Epilogue