1,000 Days

Chapter 7

Harry

Lucius' dead body fell to the floor. Harry looked over at Draco. A thousand days.... What would happen in a thousand days? The blonde man stared blankly in front of him as a steady stream of tears fell from his eyes. His face was white with shock and he looked like a ghost in his pitch-black robes.

Harry knelt beside him and reached for his hand, feeling the gold band that was on Draco's finger.

"We'll find a cure, love, I promise," Harry vowed. He'd never broken a promise, and he wasn't about to start by breaking the most important one.

"You don't know any?" Draco whispered, his voice full of shame, anguish, and, above all, despair.

Harry hung his head as his own tears began to fall. "No," he answered painfully. "But I swear I will help you in any way possible."

"You can't help me..."

They sat in silence, felling the pain of the coming loss. Lucius was dead, and yet, he was still killing his only child. Harry hated the bastard and everything the man represented.

"I want to do this alone, Harry," Draco said, finally breaking the silence.

"What?" Harry asked, confused. "What do you mean alone?"

"I mean I don't want you around!" Draco yelled, standing. "I mean I'm breaking up with you! I mean goodbye, Harry! ...I can't let you see me die..."

Harry stared up at the man in shock. "I-If you ever need anything," he said lamely, even to his own ears.

"I know," Draco answered softly.

"Get up, you'll be late for work!"

Harry's eyes snapped open.

"Get up, you'll be late for work!"

"I'm up!" he yelled at his alarm clock. He swung his legs out of bed and stumbled his way to the bathroom.

He looked at his reflection and swore. He looked like shit. His eyes were blood shot, and his face was pale. It was the dream that did it to him. The memory to be precise. Two weeks after that, Draco had sent him the ring in the owl post.

He watched his reflection as tears fell from his eyes.

He showered and dressed before looking at his reflection again. His face had its color back, but his eyes were still red. He opened the cupboard and took out the Muggle eye drops. He was amazed that wizards didn't have these. After all, wizards could fix your teeth, your eyes, your skin problems...anything, but they had no remedy for blood-shot eyes.

He looked at his glasses as he put the eye drops away. He didn't know why he kept them, maybe he was subconsciously waiting for the magic on his eyes to wear off (the only reason he agreed to it was the danger that his glasses could break in the heat of battle and he wouldn't be able to see what was going on). His fear was really stupid, after all, the magic on Hermione's teeth was still perfect. And speaking about Hermione, Harry couldn't help but remember what he had said to her the night before. He told her nearly everything, and it was the easiest thing he'd ever done.

Now to tell Ron that there was to be no wedding. Of course, Ron would think that it was because of Ayden and the fact that he was just too damn noble to allow Hermione to go through raising his child on his own, but that was fine for now. Harry honestly didn't want to hear Ron's voice smugly telling him "I told you so," and he knew that was what he would get if he told Ron that they'd been separated for a year and a half or however long it was now. Harry quit counting. Draco Malfoy wasn't worth his tears, not now, not ever.

But Merlin, did he miss him. Now, more than ever before. Now, because he, Harry, had severed all contact between them. Harry was planning on ignoring the other man completely from here on out, but that wasn't entirely possible. They were working together now, after all, and you can't ignore your partner. They'd already tried that when they were Aurors. It didn't work then, it wont work now.

Maybe Draco was right then. Being friends was better than being nothing after all. So what if Harry's heart ached every time he saw the man. At least now he wouldn't have to hide. And being a friend...he could do that, couldn't he? They'd never tried that. They've tried being rivals, partners, lovers and now ex-lovers. Maybe now was the time to try friendship.

Friendship....

Harry sighed and journeyed down to the Great Hall where he saw Alex, Ron's eldest child, sitting amidst the other Gryffindors laughing.

"Harry," he shouted as Harry passed. "Da says hey!"

Harry smiled. "Is he talking to me then?"

"Well, since you know about Ayden now, he doesn't have to hide anythin' from you."

Harry nodded and continued on his way to the staff table. Alex would never call him "Professor Potter," Harry was too much of an uncle for that. Besides, he didn't really like being called that. Peeves sure loved the double "P" it produced. Then again, Peeves loved anything vulgar or insensitive.

The week passed in a blur as Harry went from one class to the next, telling his Auror stories to teach a lesson. He was amazed at how his experience at the department could be used to teach so wonderfully. He also wondered if this was how Mad-Eye would have taught were he Mad-Eye and not some imposter.

The students loved his classes. He would hear them in the halls talking about his class with amazement and wonderment as to what the next one would be like.

"They all love you, Harry," Hermione told him that Friday night. "They love your classes and they want you to be Head of House next year. Will you take the job? I could show you what to do. McGonagall was Headmistress and teaching me my first year here."

"I don't think so, Hermione," Harry confessed. "I don't know that I'll be here next year."

"Why?" she asked confused. "You love it here."

"I do," Harry confessed. "I never said I didn't. But there is a son of mine out there who needs to be with his parents, and if one of them is teaching, one of them needs to be home."

"I could never ask you to do that, Harry. Not in a thousand years could I ask you to give anything up. I will--"

"No. You love this place, Hermione. You love teaching, you're good at it. This school needs you more than it needs me. Besides, you're not asking me, I'm doing this on my own."

"But, Harry...."

"No buts about it, love. I haven't decided finally on the matter yet, I wanted to talk to you and Ayden about it first, but I think I've made my choice."

"Why?" Hermione asked. "Why can't you stay here? Ayden will be starting school soon and--"

"How many years of his life have you missed, Hermione?" Harry asked. "How many holidays? How much of his life have you already missed?"

"How dare you, Harry Potter. That is my son and it absolutely kills me that he is not here with me. I hate having him go, and I hate him not being here. I would quit in a heart-beat if I thought it would be better for him if I did. But it wont. I am doing what I can, Harry. I am a single mother with a nine year old child to raise. I would love to see how you dealt with it.

"Besides, you should be the one to break the chain, Harry. Don't be the next Defense professor to give into the 'curse'. And don't you dare quit because of Ayden."

"The job is jinxed, Hermione. Everyone knows that. And I've already made my decision. I wasn't planning on staying anyway."

"What do you mean?" she asked. Harry could see that she was no longer angry with him, she was confused.

"Coming back wasn't the best idea for me, Hermione. Especially since he's here. If I didn't just start the job, I'd have already left."

"You can't leave me again, Harry."

Harry knew that his son was not the reason for his not returning the next year. Draco was. There was no way Harry could remain in the castle if Draco died, if he lived, if he left. There were too many memories of them here, and those memories brought up other memories which brought up more memories...memories were bad, especially if the person in the memories was considered dead to him.

Which was more painful that knowing he was dying.

I can't loose you like that, Harry.

Harry shook his head, trying to get the voice out. Draco had a point, but that didn't mean he wanted to face it.

But then again, they'd tried everything else, maybe now was the time to be friends.

The next day he journeyed down to Draco's room, not yet ready to face what lay on the other side of the closed door, but unable to avoid it any longer.

He knocked.

He waited.

Finally the door opened to reveal a very surprised Draco. The blonde man's expression changed from surprise to a cold shell in less than three seconds. Harry was pleased to know that Draco had slowed in his lack of using the Mask.

"What do you want, Potter?"

"A reconsideration," Harry confessed. "You were right. We've tried everything but, so maybe..."

"Please, feel free to explain what the bloody hell you're talking about at any time."

"Friendship," Harry clarified. "Maybe we should try friendship."

"Maybe, maybe not. I don't exactly feel like being your friend anymore, not with the way you're treating me."

"And what way is that?"

"Let's take a look, shall we?" Draco asked sarcastically. "When you first arrived, there is nothing but fighting between us. Then things get better, if only for one night, after that, you ignore me, not entirely mind you, but enough for me to get the picture, even if I don't want to, then you tell me it's all or nothing between us. Since I can't give you all, I chose nothing because you decided you wouldn't go for the in-between.

"Now here you are, crawling back with your tail between your legs because you cant fucking let me go. I tell you now, Harry Potter, you fucked yourself over. Now it's my turn to say no."

"I don't know why I bother with you," Harry said defeated. "I don't know why I fell for you, I don't know why I care so bloody much. There's only three people in this world I have ever loved. I don't know why you are on that list."

"Are you sure it's love?" Draco asked. "Or is that just a list of people you've fucked?"

Harry let his hand fly. "My son is on that list, Malfoy. And the next time you say something like that I will not be held responsible for what I do. You are shit to me now, do you understand? I am not crawling back to you. How could I? I'd never be able to find you, you're so low. I pity the next person you put under your spell, and I hope it's you they fuck over."

"Don't you dare, Potter. Don't you dare say such things. Get the fuck away from me and stay there."

"That wont be a problem," Harry replied, already walking away. He heard the door shut and he stopped.

And he waited.

Then he heard the sobs start. He rest against the wall and breathed deeply. Why did he have to be so stubborn? Why did he have to be so cruel? Why did they both have to be together again?

He regretted every word he'd said. He regretted coming here to make amends. He regretted delivering the ultimatum.

He felt the tears burn, but he would not allow himself to cry. He would not give Draco more than he already had.

Draco had everything.

Tears would no longer be apart of that list.

He went to Hermione.

"What's wrong?" she asked letting him in.

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

She was surprised at first, but then welcomed the kiss.

"What was that for?" she asked when he finally let her go.

Harry smiled. "No reason," he answered. "Things change in time, remember?"

"I remember," she answered, still confused. "What changed?"

"A feeling for another man and the woman I am looking at now."

"Huh?"

"I love you, Hermione. And I'm over him."

"That quickly?"

"No, not that quickly. Mostly. And as for you, love, I always have."

She smiled. "Looks like you're both moving on."

"What do you mean?"

"Draco and Ginny, didn't you know?"

"Know what?"

"They're together," Hermione said slowly. "Off and on since he started teaching here."

"What?"

"You didn't know," she sighed. "I'm sorry, I thought you knew."

"I still don't understand. When you say together, you mean like the way we were together?"

"Yes," she said softly.

Without a word, Harry turned and left. He got as far as the next door before he stopped himself. What was he running from? What was he running to? He couldn't keep doing this. Draco wasn't his problem anymore. He had a family now. A real family, one that cared about him and loved him. A son that he'd only just met but who wanted to be him. He could not keep running. He could not keep hiding, fighting, crying. He had to be strong before it killed him.

After all, he knew exactly where these feelings would lead him: Room 10 of the psychiatric ward in St. Mungo's, 1,000 Galleons in medical and therapist bills, and the two hurt faces of Ayden and Hermione. No, Draco wasn't worth that much. Not now, not ever.

"Harry, don't lie to me," Hermione said walking up to him. "I can help you, I know I can, but you have to talk to me. You're not over him, not even mostly."

"I'm sorry I keep doing this to you, Hermione," Harry answered softly. "You deserve better than me. Ayden deserves a better father. You deserve a better life..."

"I love my life, Harry. I may hate that my son isn't with me, and that there is nothing I can do about that, but that doesn't mean I want better. There's only one thing that can make my life better, Harry, and it's you."

"Why don't you teach the younger kids?" Harry asked, suddenly thinking of it. "You love to teach, you want to be with your son, and maybe we can find a position here after he starts school."

"We?"

"If your as stubborn as you used to be, there's no way I can quit and not take you with me."

"What about brining Ayden here?" she asked as if the idea had just occurred to her. "That way, neither one of us has to quit. I don't...I'll be right back, Harry, don't go too far."

And with that, she quickly walked away.

Harry stared after her, confused, before he shook his head and went to his office to grade papers.

There was a knock on his door before it opened and Alex walked in.

"Hey, Harry," he said shutting the door.

"Hello," Harry answered.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Can you teach me the Patronus charm?"

"Why do you want to know that?" Harry asked confused. "That's not something you need to learn as a second year. It's far too complicated."

"But you learned it as a third year!" he cried. "Da told me you did. And you taught him and 'Mione how to do it as well!"

Harry chuckled at the fragment of Hermione's name. "I did," he answered. "And they were fifth years who struggled with it. Why do you want to know?" Harry asked.

Alex shrugged. "Because I'm scared of them," he confessed. "I want to be able to defend myself somehow."

"Did Ron ever tell you why I learned that spell so young?" he asked. Alex shook his head. "It was because every time a Dementor came near me, I fainted. It nearly killed me once, due to my being fifty or so feet in the air. That was the only Quidditch match I ever lost.... I had to learn that spell for my life. And that was one of the hardest spells for me to learn. I don't doubt your capability, Alex, I bet you can do it, but now is not the time for you to learn."

"Were you...ever...afraid of them?" he asked.

Harry leaned back in his chair. "My Defense Against the Dark Arts professor my third year brought a Bogart to class once. He told us about it and then he let us face it one by one. He wouldn't let me face it though.... He thought that my worst fear may be a full strength Voldemort. When I asked him about it, I didn't know that was what he was afraid of. He told me the last thing he needed was something like that to come into an unexpecting third year class. Then I made my confession. When he asked us to think about our worst fear, my first thought had been Voldemort. But then a new fear surfaced. A Dementor.

"So, yes, Alex, I was afraid of them. They terrified me and nearly killed me. But now...now I can defend myself from them, so there is nothing for me to fear.

"Your father on the other hand," Harry said in a brighter tone to change the subject. "Was afraid of a giant spider named Aragog and in order to fight that off, he took away its legs."

Alex laughed, causing Harry to smile.

"Have you grown up with Ayden?" Harry asked suddenly.

Alex's laughter stopped abruptly. "Why?" he asked, cautious.

"I'm curious, that's all."

But it was more than curiosity and Alex seemed to know that. He wouldn't say much about Ayden, except that he was the best Quidditch player he'd ever seen, that he was proud that Harry was his father, and that he wanted to be just like him. Harry's heart swelled with pride, but that was what he already knew. He wanted to learn something that he hadn't been told before, by Ayden, Hermione or anyone else.