A Certain Kind of Memory

There's always a price to pay for everything.

Consequences for every choice, every action.

Even if neither choice is palatable.

You just need to ask yourself which consequences can you survive.

Harry Potter, October 2005.

Pacing up and down the waiting room of the hospital, Harry felt like an expectant father. Neville was in with Hannah - Harry had no desire to be there - and he didn't envy Neville one little bit at having to watch Hannah in so much pain. He was quite content, if impatient, to wait with Hannah's father and Neville's gran.

Neville kept popping his head out of the birthing room to let them know how things were going. He looked tired and worried but underneath his cheerful self was anticipatory. He hadn't been out for a while, which Harry took to mean that things must be nearing the end of the ordeal.

Ginny came running down the corridor at that point.

"Sorry I couldn't get here before now," she said after she'd greeted everyone. "Blaise shut the Floo off and I didn't even know until he opened it this morning and called Draco. How is everything? How's Hannah doing?"

"She's fine last we heard. Nev hasn't been out to update us in a while so I'm assuming he's a little busy."

"Okay." Ginny sighed in relief. "I am so excited, Harry. Godmother? Me?"

Harry grinned. "I'm as astounded as you to be a godparent because Neville only asked me last night," he said.

"Hannah asked me a few days ago," she said, sitting down on one of the chairs. "The others will probably all be along a bit later, I think Blaise was going to Floo them all and let them know."

Harry sat down beside her. "I wonder how much longer it will be," he spoke aloud.

Mrs. Longbottom stirred in her chair and gave him a knowing smile. "Oh, they could be a long while yet. Why, I've known things like this to go on all day. Good strong girl like Hannah Abbott though, she'll pull through, never you mind about that," she pronounced.

Harry nodded and smiled, seeing Mr. Abbott puff out his chest a little in pride at hearing his daughter so well spoken of, especially by someone as blunt and usually abrasive as Neville's gran.

"She is a good girl," Mr. Abbott confirmed. "I wish her mum was here to see her first grandchild," he finished, sadly.

Harry reached over and patted him on the shoulder. Hannah's mum had been killed early on in the war. "I'm sure somehow she knows and she'd be really proud," Harry said, comfortingly.

Mr. Abbott nodded and smiled at Harry and Ginny and they all settled back to wait for news.

About an hour later Neville stuck his tired but incredibly proud looking face out the door and asked them all to come in. Harry and Ginny demurred, instead suggesting that Mr. Abbott and Mrs. Longbottom should go in first, but they were waved aside.

"I said you were family and I meant it," Neville replied, ushering them into the room.

Hannah lay on the bed, looking exhausted but radiant and holding a tiny bundle wrapped in pink in her arms. She was looking down into the baby's face and Harry thought he'd never seen anything more ethereally beautiful than a mother looking into her newborn's face. He felt very humbled by the sheer emotion.

Hannah looked up and smiled at them, glowing. "We'd like you all to meet Alison Rose Longbottom."

Words could barely describe just what Harry felt when he looked at his new goddaughter's tiny face. The urge to protect was fierce; something so small needed all the protection in the world. Hot on the heels of that emotion, though, came the real regret that he was not going to see her grow up. It made him feel like a traitor, like he was going to let her down really badly, betray the trust Neville and Hannah placed in him.

Ginny rested her head on Harry's shoulder as they watched baby Alison sleep. "We'll keep a good eye on her won't we, Harry," she said.

"We will," Harry choked.

She looked at him with a fond smile, no doubt thinking he was overwhelmed by the moment, which he was, but not in the way she thought.

When it was his turn to hold the baby he trembled, worried that he might drop her but he soon calmed down. He'd never held anything quite so precious in his hands and he vowed to do whatever he could to make her life as happy and as comfortable as he could, even if he wasn't here to see her grow up.

***

Over the next few weeks, Harry spent as much time as he could with Alison. In between writing his book, helping Draco setting up the shop and begin production on Neville's potion, he slotted in a couple of appointments with Mr. Tort in order to set up a trust find for Alison that would take care of everything she could possibly need once she came of age. It worked the same way Teddy Lupin's did.

He'd also organised with Pansy to bestow an amount upon the orphanage in order that the children receive all the education they needed, and finally he wrote to Kingsley Shacklebolt and reminded him that as long as children grew up with people who loved them, it didn't matter what sort of family raised them. He pointed out that the Ministry didn't remove children from single parent families that were that way through choice or accident, as that would cause an outcry, so using a person's marital status to judge whether or not that person was a fit parent for adoption was immoral. Especially in the case of Pansy, who worked with children and was expected to be instrumental in moulding them through early education into being productive citizens. How was that not a double standard?

A week later they'd had Pansy through the Floo at the shop, blubbering that the Ministry had changed their minds and she was going to be able to adopt Jasmine. Harry congratulated her and gave her a tight hug, then left her and Draco to celebrate together by spending their lunch hour shopping for the new addition. It was so rewarding to see how happy she was and he was glad that Jasmine was going to have a family at last, too.

Draco had not yet reached a decision on the status of their relationship. They continued to live in the same flat, though it took some time getting used to each other's timetable and habits. Like Draco's habit of dropping towels wherever he decided to get changed that day. It was usually his bedroom but Harry often found the damp towels in the kitchen, draped over the door in the bathroom or, once, there was even a towel sitting on top of the television. It amused Harry more than annoyed him. Really, it only annoyed him that he was never there to see Draco dropping the towels but perhaps that's why Draco felt able to and, were Harry to be around, wouldn't feel comfortable. Apart from the towels, Draco was almost anally neat, insisting on performing the house cleaning tasks - with magic of course - on his own. That way, he said, he'd know they were done properly. Harry just let him go at it.

In the food department, Draco was a better cook than Harry, which was hardly surprising, seeing that he was so much better than Harry at potions. Harry consigned himself to ensuring the laundry was done each week, as well as paying all the bills and cleaning up after Draco's cooking sprees, which always resulted in something excellent to eat so he never complained.

They were both so busy that neither of them bought up the status of their relationship. Harry assumed that Draco was still thinking about it and, apart from the fact that there was no physical intimacy between them, he was more than happy with how things were working out so far. He had no wish to push the situation, yet. There didn't seem to be any lasting tension between the two of them and, though the heady flirting of the first couple of days had died down, they were still comfortable with the occasional hug and often snuggled up together in front of the television at night.

The Ministry attended Draco's shop and certified it legal for Potion making and selling. The fittings and all the supplies were delivered and within the space of a couple of weeks, the back room was set up as a lab and Draco had started producing Neville's and the Hogwarts Infirmary's potions. Once Draco had those underway and running smoothly, he would make potions for the shop and within another month or so Perfect Potions would be open to the public for business. Pansy was planning a grand opening party.

Harry helped out where he could but he knew Draco was planning on hiring an assistant to serve behind the counter while he worked on producing the potions.

So, between seeing Alison as often as he could without crowding Neville and Hannah, helping Draco, and writing his own book, the weeks sped by quickly and before he knew it August had gone and they were half way through September.

When had time decided to speed up?

He'd had his first appointment with the Healer, too. The potion she gave him still tasted as vile as the first time he'd taken it but if it kept masking the symptoms and let him live his life instead of exist in it, then he'd put up with worse. She asked him how he was going and he had the urge to laugh at her. Which wasn't really fair, but then since when had anything in his life been fair?

"You know, just when things are really starting to fall into place and I'm happy and finding that I have a purpose that doesn't involve killing off a dark lord while trying not to die myself, Fate herself kicks in the door and stands there laughing her arse off because it's just a temporary reprieve," Harry said, bitterly.

"I can understand that," she said. "I can't say I know how you feel, because I don't, but I can understand why you feel like that."

"I'm just torn," Harry said, running his hands through his hair, probably messing it up more. "Is it normal to be so happy even though you know you're going to die?"

"Yes, Harry. Many terminally ill patients make major changes to their lives when they find that they only have a certain amount of time left. They lose the worry about risking something, be it money, or reputation or even their lives, so they do things they'd previously not had the courage to do and many of them find it the most fulfilling time of their entire lives."

Harry looked at her, a lump forming in his throat. "But doesn't it just make it that much harder to leave them?" His voice cracked and he cleared it harshly.

"Some feel grateful that they were given the chance to do things they never thought possible, and that helps knowing they lived as much as they could in the time they had left."

Harry nodded. "That only makes me feel more torn. I know I'm grateful but I want to tear things apart, too, at the unfairness of it all."

"It's all normal behaviour, Harry. Whatever you're feeling is normal in your position," the Healer said, calmly.

Normal for his position? Harry scowled as he left the building, later. Nothing was normal about this. Normal people didn't have an alien thing growing in their heads. Normal people didn't know they only had a certain amount of time left to live. Time that was rushing past him too fast. Couldn't he stop it? Stop time, just so that he could have more of this good, peaceful life he had now? A life that for all the lack of war and dark times was still exciting and damnit, fulfilling?

But being bitter and angry wasn't going to let him enjoy this fulfilling life, which he'd vowed to do, and so by the time he arrived home, he'd left most of it behind, knowing that in private moments, the anger would still come and haunt him.

***

"And good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to what we hope will become an annual charity Quidditch match between the Holyhead Harpies and the Chudley Cannons," Chester Chudley, the Cannons owner, announced. "It's a glorious sunny September day, perfect flying weather with no breeze..."

Harry and Draco found their seats in the top tier of the stand, right between both sets of goals. It had to be the best viewing spot ever, Harry decided. Blaise had done well getting them all seats together and while Draco had complained about the cost of them, Harry had insisted that he would pay because he wouldn't have Draco sitting in the cheap seats while all the rest of his friends were enjoying the benefits of the better ones. Draco refused to let him but he grudgingly agreed to pay for the seats himself out of the money Harry had lent him. Apart from being a tax deduction, he would be paying that money back to Harry at some point so it was less like accepting a handout. Harry had just rolled his eyes and given in. At least Draco was here with them all.

The introductions of the teams were being made as Harry said hi to everyone, sitting down next to Ron with Draco on the other side of him.

They cheered with everyone else when the Harpies took to the field and Harry roared for Ginny, who showed off a little by flying over to their stand and doing a bit of a flashy loop before grinning and heading back to her team who were doing a lap of honour in formation. It looked pretty impressive, he thought, and the crowd went wild as they flew past.

Then the Cannons flew out onto the pitch to another roar from the crowd and a big cheer from Ron as well. Ron had always supported the Cannons for as long as Harry had known him. It had only been the last few years that the Cannons had managed to win a few games and were now beginning to be seen as a threat in the League. Ron, of course, would talk underwater about the Cannons at the best of times but he was insufferable when they won.

Usually, Harry hoped that the Cannons won, but today, especially seeing as it was a charity match, he really hoped that the Harpies were victorious. Ginny would love that. Harry thought wryly that his ears might enjoy that, too.

"Who's everyone going for?" Harry asked down the line of his friends.

"The general consensus seems to be Harpies," Blaise called back and almost everyone nodded, except for Ron. Hermione, who didn't like Quidditch much at the best of times, shrugged and said she didn't mind who won.

"Well, I'm going for Ginny's team," Harry said. "Ron you should be supporting your sister,' he added.

"I do support her!" Ron objected. "Every time she plays I hope she catches the Snitch, just when she plays the Cannons, I hope that still doesn't win them the game."

Harry laughed. "I guess that's fair enough."

"You really think the Cannons can outplay the Harpies today, though?" asked Draco. "They seem to have taken the opportunity to field an almost second rate team. Johnson and Feldmuir are out and their replacements aren't anywhere near their level, substandard as they are at the best of times."

"Yeah, but just before you arrived they announced Paxton, the Harpies keeper, is out. She broke her arm in an accident on the way here and her replacement hasn't played for two years. That's an incredible advantage for the Cannons, regardless of having to use substitute Beaters," Ron argued.

"True," Draco replied, thoughtfully.

"Yeah," Ron pressed, smugly. "So the Cannons are actually playing intelligently by giving their reserves a chance to get some game practice in."

"I think the Cannons could actually win today," Draco said, and Harry rolled his eyes and muttered something about changing sides to support who he thought was the strongest being a typical Malfoy trait. Draco elbowed him in the ribs but whatever he said was lost as the whistle to start the game sounded.

After ten minutes, Ron's opinions seemed to be bearing out as the Cannons' Beaters were obviously not up to scratch and had a hard time hitting the Bludgers with any accuracy at all, but the Harpies' Keeper was so out of form that she couldn't save even one goal, and if not for the vicious precision of her team's Beaters they would be much further than 60 points behind. It seemed that Ginny would have to catch the Snitch before the score got too far out of hand for the Harpies to have any chance of winning.

Harry kept only one eye on the game as it was fairly one sided. He kept his other eye out for the Snitch, hoping that Ginny would be the one to see it first. At one point, the Cannon's Seeker, Charlesworth, spotted the Snitch and took off at top speed. The crowd roared as Ginny sped after him and she chased him around the stadium, ducking and weaving, trying to pass him while he kept his eye on the golden fluttering Snitch dodging and changing direction in front of him.

It wasn't until they both had to pull rather quickly out of a steep dive and regroup for the chase that, to the collective groans of the spectators, the Snitch disappeared. Harry's heart was in his mouth watching and part of him itched to be out there again. He watched Ginny fly and was impressed. She really could fly, and the thing that impressed him most was that she completely fearless. She withheld nothing and never had, but she seemed to have sharpened her flying tenfold since joining the Harpies.

A minute later, Ginny spotted the Snitch.

"Look," Harry shouted. "She's seen it again!"

This time Charlesworth was chasing Ginny as well as the Snitch as she had a good head start on him. The Snitch appeared as tricky as ever and kept changing course but Ginny steadfastly followed it. The sun blocked Harry's view for a moment and when he could see again, he saw Ginny reaching and leaning forward, arm outstretched toward the gold winged ball and getting closer and closer.

Probably from years of playing Quidditch himself and having an almost sixth sense about some things, he caught from the corner of his eye something heading directly toward Ginny. In perhaps the most accidentally accurate hit of the day by the stand-in Beaters, one of them had hit a Bludger to the place where Ginny was heading.

Harry barely had time to yell an impotent warning, as no one could have heard him, anyway, when the Bludger connected with the back of Ginny's neck, the loud crack clearly audible above the noise of the crowd. To the horror of the spectators it propelled her off the front of her broom and she flew through the air and crashed into one of the stadium's pillars before dropping twenty feet to the ground.

Amidst the gasps and cries of the crowd, Harry watched as she fell, his heart in his mouth. He heard Blaise call out Ginny's name but couldn't take his eyes off the scene to make sure he was all right. Ginny hadn't moved from the fall. Harry hoped she was just knocked unconscious but it didn't look good. Her teammates sped down to her side and knelt by her until the medical team arrived.

Harry took the chance to check and see how Blaise was. He looked gray with anguish. Ron was white as a sheet and every freckle stood out in stark contrast. Hermione was holding his hand in both of hers and, by the look of her white knuckles she was probably crushing it.

When he looked back, the medical team had rolled Ginny onto her back but she hadn't woken yet. They levitated her and began to move her off the pitch. The announcer called the game abandoned due to injury and the crowd began a clapping tribute to Ginny as she was taken away.

Blaise and Ron both edged past to the aisle. "We'll go and see if we can find out how she is," Ron said, the worry written all over his face.

"Want us to come?" Harry asked, just as worried.

Blaise shook his head. "They probably won't let you in. We'll meet you at St. Mungo's if you like. Even if she's woken up when we get down there, I'll be taking her there to get checked out." Harry could see that he was trying to keep calm.

"Alright, we'll meet you there, then," Harry said, looking to the others for confirmation. They all nodded. He turned back to Ron and Blaise. "She'll be all right, she's a fighter."

They both nodded and took off down to the club change rooms.

The rest of them packed up their things and made arrangements to get to St. Mungo's.

Two hours later and they were still in the waiting room.

Ron and Blaise had traveled with Ginny to the hospital but had been told to wait with the rest of them, so the only news they had was what they'd been told back at the stadium. And that was that Ginny was unconscious and they were worried about her spine.

A Healer had been out to see them once and advised them that they would be doing lots of tests to ascertain the extent of the damage but they shouldn't expect anything concrete for a few hours.

Harry looked around at all his friends. Seamus was there, his ever-handy quill and parchment packed away, the outcome of this too private for him to include in a gossip column. The headline reporters would report the facts of the situation but Seamus would never profit from his friends' misfortune.

Neville and Hannah had arrived after Harry called them. They'd bought the baby with them and that had at least eased a little tension when people cooed over her. They were now sitting quietly at one end of the room, Hannah nursing Alison. And it was so quiet that you could hear her faint contented gurgling as she drank.

Luna and Daphne were also here, sitting closely together, Luna's hand tracing circles on Daphne's thigh. When they'd arrived Luna had asked if anyone minded if she sung a song her mother used to sing to her when she was little and worried about something. No one had minded and for a while they'd been treated to Luna's untrained but bright and clear voice singing a sweet tune. But her voice had tired and she was now quiet.

Pansy and Hermione were either side of Ron and Blaise. Hermione gripped Ron's hand tightly and Pansy had her head on Blaise's shoulder. Hermione was biting her lip and looking worried, as if she suddenly felt the need to do some research and find out for herself that everything was being done for Ginny that could possibly be done. It was one of the reasons Harry didn't want to tell Hermione that he had an inoperable tumour in his head; she'd spend the rest of the time he had left by researching and then feeling guilty she hadn't been able to find a cure or anything to help him. None of this was her fault and he'd not have her feeling one ounce of guilt. Not one.

Molly and Arthur were also sitting together, arms around each other. Bill and Fleur had arrived but Charlie and Davis were overseas chasing a new dragon breed. George and Percy shut the shop and were pacing up and down the room. Harry could never quite get over how Percy just stepped back into his family and replaced Fred in George's life. They'd always made fun of 'prefect' Percy and how pompous he was, but he loved his family and in many aspects of George's life, Percy was now his partner.

And then there was Draco, curled up against Harry's side, warm and real. And just as worried as the rest of them.

This was his family, he thought proudly.

"I wish they'd just tell us what's going on," Pansy said, exasperated.

"They will when they know anything," Hermione said in a voice that indicated that she didn't think that this was good enough either.

"She will be all right," Luna said, her lilting voice still husky from the singing.

"Bah, I'm going crazy just sitting here," Pansy moaned, sitting up properly and stretching. She stood up. "Seamus, want to come and get some drinks for everyone? I'm sure we could all use some coffee."

Seamus nodded and stood. "All right. May as well, I need to stretch my legs anyway," he said. "Who's up for coffee?"

Several people nodded and they headed off down the corridor in search of coffee.

Harry thought the quiet was what was getting to him to most. Luna began her soft singing again as if she'd read his mind and that helped a bit, but the tension of waiting and worrying pervaded everything.

Occasionally one of them would attempt to start a conversation to lighten the mood; keep their minds off what was happening, but after a few words it would die out and the quiet would take over again. Blaise was becoming quite agitated and almost threw the coffee Seamus handed him away before virtually collapsing in on himself, his face crumpling in anguish.

"Bugger this," Draco exploded, standing up and tossing his cup into the rubbish bin. "It's been four bloody hours. None of us can stand it anymore. I'm off to find a bloody Healer who will tell us what the fuck is going on."

It was testament to how worried everyone was that no one tried to stop him. Even Hermione, who was the most rule abiding of them, merely bit her lip and nodded.

As he set off down the corridor, though, a young Healer appeared from the emergency room, obviously looking for Blaise as he made his way directly towards him. Draco quickly returned and they all stood, moving closer, Hermione supporting Blaise on one side and Ron on the other.

"Mr. Zabini. We've done what we can to stabilise your wife. I won't withhold the truth from you; it was touch and go for a while." The young Healer looked exhausted but his eyes smiled in triumph at defeating Death one more time. Harry was impressed. "The Bludger she took impacted on her neck. It almost severed her spinal cord and did damage a number of the nerves along it."

Harry could head Molly quietly gasping. Arthur held her while she wept quietly, still listening to the Healer.

"The impact of the fall only exacerbated matters. She has a number of broken ribs, one of which pierced her left lung. There was also a broken ankle, wrist and her pelvis was also fractured. We've healed all the broken bones and cuts and abrasions, of course, and the lung has healed nicely."

"What about her back?" Ron asked. "Have you healed that?"

The Healer took a deep breath. "This is where the bad news comes in. The broken bones in her back have been healed, yes, but we are unsure of how the nerves will recover. There is some sign that she has regained movement in her arms and upper body, but as for her legs, we're just not sure at the moment if she will recover full use of them."

Harry dropped his head. How awful for Ginny if she lost the use of her legs. Vibrant, beautiful Ginny who was as much at home in the sky flying like the winds of Hell, as she was on the ground. He felt Draco at his side, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it and he was grateful for the support. Molly was sobbing openly now and Luna and Daphne were holding each other.

The stricken looks on all their faces; the pallor of George and Percy, Bill's scars standing out in stark contrast to the rest of his pale face, Arthur looking like he'd been hit with a shovel in the back of the head. They were all completely devastated.

But Blaise surprised them all by drawing a deep shaky breath and gathering himself. "Can we see her?" he asked and Harry was surprised by how confident and in control he sounded.

The Healer looked around at all of them. "I'm not sure about all at once. Just family, perhaps."

Blaise didn't falter. "They're all family. If she's awake she'll want us all there," he said.

The Healer just sighed and nodded. "She's awake, I'll just ask that you don't get her too upset; her recovery will take a while as her injuries aren't things that can be cured by an overnight stay and a dose of Skele-gro or a few spells and potions."

"We'll behave," Blaise said and headed directly off to Ginny's room, hanging on to Hermione's hand tightly, as the rest followed him.

Ginny was awake as they all crowded into the small room. She smiled wanly as Blaise rushed to her side, hugged her gently and kissed her lips. "You're not slacking off there old girl, are you?" he asked, attempting a smile, but the telltale tremble in his voice gave the lie.

"Yeah, I just want all the attention," Ginny replied, a brave smile on her face, but her eyes were filled with so many tears that they shone like pools in the moonlight.

Molly let out a soft whimper and Arthur shushed her quietly.

It was really very awkward as no one knew exactly what to say and it felt like one wrong word and they would all just break down. Everyone made a move forward to greet her with a kiss but no one else was prepared to hug her in case they did something wrong and caused more damage. It was like tiptoeing around a sick frail bird, Harry thought.

Seeing Ginny bed bound and in danger of never walking again created strong emotions in Harry and the longer he looked at her the harder it was to stay in the room. He just couldn't imagine her not being able to run around after Bill's kids or her own one day. Not being able to watch her take over the sky when she flew. Or that combative stance when something pissed her off; the one where she stood with her hands on her hips and glared at you; daring you to say one more word to push her over the edge.

The conversation desultorily flowed around him but he couldn't concentrate. All he could see was Ginny incapacitated by this for life. He looked around at his friends and saw the attempted light heartedness, trying to be brave and not show Ginny how worried they were. But he saw their eyes, the pain that crinkled the corners of their eyebrows and laced the fine lines around their eyes. Their eyes showed him just how badly they were affected by Ginny's accident and the possible prognosis.

Imagine if she was dying? They all loved Ginny and they all loved Harry equally as much, of that he was sure, so imagine how things would be if he told them...

He shook himself internally and blinked back the sudden tears that smarted in his eyes. Seamus was speaking.

"Gin, what will you want to tell the reporters? There was a load of them at the game and they will want to know what's happened."

Ginny looked resigned to the fact that her recovery was going to be public. She frowned. "I don't want them to know too much, like about the nerve damage. Everything else they can know about. And tell them that I will be taking a few months off to recover from the shock and to rebuild my strength." The she looked almost fearfully to Blaise. "That will be all right won't it?"

He nodded. "If you don't want the public to know all your personal details then don't tell them. What you have said is enough for them, I agree."

Seamus nodded. "With your permission then, I'll go and tell them now and, perhaps advise the medical team not to comment at all?"

Blaise nodded. "Good thinking and I'll pass on the information to the team manager when I leave here."

"I can do that," Percy offered, and both he and Seamus left the room.

"Have they talked about when you can go home?" Hermione asked.

Ginny shook her head. "But I don't think it will be for a couple of weeks anyway, they want me to be as immobile as possible while the nerves heal." A frown of pain crossed her face. "As much as they're going to heal, anyway."

All the while, Blaise sat by her bed, holding her hand and trying to be strong. Harry could see the determined set to his face, grey with worry though it was.

"They'll heal, just you wait and see," Harry said. "In the meantime, anything you need, you just ask." He moved beside her and took her free hand in his. "You're a fighter, Gin, you're my girl and your nerves will get better. I'm positive."

Ginny gave Harry's hand a squeeze and she smiled, a positive smile. "Yes, we'll make sure of it."

Slowly, smiles began to replace the frowns and worry lines but, still, in their eyes, Harry could see the anguish and the pity.

Then George called out to Ron. "Hey, Ronniekins, those Cannons...ready to give up on them yet?"

Ron answered with, "Soon as I write those two a Howler that will make Mum's sound like love letters." Everyone laughed at that and relaxed a little bit more.

***

It wasn't until they arrived home a few hours later that Harry broke.

When they walked in the door, Draco headed to the kitchen to make tea and Harry sank onto the couch, hung his head in his hands and began to shake. He didn't think the shock had really hit him until now. Of course in an abstract way he felt awful that Ginny might not walk again, and listening to the list of other injuries she sustained had numbed the reaction. It had all been too much to take in but now he was away from the immediate grieving of everyone close to her, the accident kept replaying in his head.

Again and again he saw how the Bludger surprised her, heard the crack, watched in horror as she fell and could do nothing to stop it. He'd never really thought about bad accidents in Quidditch before now. At Hogwarts, he'd always had Professor Dumbledore and even Professor Snape there to do something to save him and in professional Quidditch, the teams were so good that accidents rarely happened. It was the incompetence and inexperience of the Beaters that had caused the accident, he was sure.

Draco returned with a hot cup of tea and handed it to him, sitting down opposite him and watching him thoughtfully. Harry accepted the cup, though he didn't drink it.

"What if she never walks again?" he asked Draco quietly. "How will she cope with that?"

"She'll find a way, she's a strong girl," he said.

Harry nodded, and pushed the thoughts of the accident from his mind. Or tried to. He kept seeing her crumpled form on the ground and shuddering at the sight.

"She'll have her family there and Blaise will make sure he does everything he can to help her recovery," Draco added.

"And she'll have me, too," Harry stated.

He caught Draco's pained look, but ignored it.

"She's married, you know," Draco said sharply.

Harry started. "What do you mean by that statement?"

"Well, it's rather obvious you still have some strong feelings for her." Draco was trying to sound casual, but failed miserably.

"Where do you get that from?" Harry asked bewildered.

"The way you've reacted to this. You're acting like she died."

Harry sat back and sipped his tea, too stunned by the assumption Draco had made to even think of a response. After a long moment, he looked back at Draco.

"I don't know where you got that idea from, but she's one of my best friends and she almost died. That's all. I'd be reacting the same way if it were Hermione or Ron or you," he said.

It was the truth. But he'd be lying if he didn't admit that part of his strong reaction was how he saw everyone else reacting to the bad news and thinking that they'd be the same or worse if he told them all his news.

"There are no residual feelings left for her at all, then?" Draco asked, coolly.

"None, no, why? Are you jealous?" It had suddenly occurred to Harry that perhaps Draco could be.

"Of course not," Draco scoffed, but it was unconvincing.

Harry stared at him for the longest time while he sipped his tea. Every so often Draco would look back at him and each time he'd blush lightly and shy away from holding eye contact, a cross look on his face.

"You don't have to be, you know." Harry said softly.

"I don't have to be what?" Draco asked obtusely.

"You don't have to be jealous."

"I never said I was." Draco replied, chin lifted slightly into the air.

"No, you didn't, but it's written all over your face and in your body language." Harry finished his tea and set the cup down on the table. "I haven't been interested in a woman for over five years. In a general fashion, I haven't been attracted to anyone since I went out with Ginny. Until we became friends."

Draco looked past him; grey eyes lost in thought. After a while he sighed and nodded, bringing his gaze back to Harry.

"If I am going to be jealous of everyone you care about, it must mean I want you as more than a friend, Harry, and that means that we have to give it a real shot, or else my jealousy will destroy the friendship anyway, right?" He appeared calm and collected but Harry could see the underlying tension in his eyes.

"Is that what you want?" Harry hardly dared to ask the question.

"It must be. Jealousy was eating me up. I saw you in that room holding her hand and kissing her and the way you looked at her...I know she was injured and in a bad way..." he stopped and shook his head.

Harry's heart was in his mouth. "Be very, very sure this is what you want, Draco because I won't cope well if you suddenly change your mind in a week." He was aware his voice had a slight vibration of emotion there but he was too focused on Draco and his answer to pay it attention.

For an answer Draco placed his tea on the table, stood and moved toward Harry, straddling his lap. He cupped Harry's face with his two hands and leant in, kissing him thoroughly. Harry closed his eyes and relaxed into the kiss, letting Draco dictate the pace, while he satisfied himself with sliding his arms round Draco's waist and holding on.

"I think that answers your question," Draco murmured against his lips as they broke for air. Harry nodded, his chest too full to speak. He rested his forehead on Draco's, tired, but elated.

"Come on, Harry, bed. We can talk about this in the morning but we've had a traumatic day and we should rest."

"You'll come with me. To sleep, I mean?" Harry asked and Draco nodded, smiling. "If you think you're going to keep me out of your bed now, Potter, you have another think coming. No, I'm going to sleep every night with you wrapped around me like a blanket. And I'll be demanding and bitchy if I don't get my way and you'll love every second of it. But tonight, I just want to sleep in your arms and face tomorrow and tomorrow's battles when we have to. Tonight, I want you to rest."

Harry couldn't think of anything more wonderful than spending the night wrapped around Draco like a blanket.