Amaranthine

Amaranthine

Wet streaks ran down his face, dripping off of his chin and landing on the matted grass below. It was a summer rain, and such things happened often enough in London that he almost didn't notice. It was so simple, he thought. It had all been so easy, in the end.

"Harry?"

It was funny. Even Voldemort's blood was red. It mingled with the puddles on the ground, making odd streaks and curves that seemed to almost dissolve, but it was there. And it was red. He had always thought that Voldemort wasn't human, was unnatural somehow. But no. Even the horcruxes couldn't change someone's humanity.

A hand on his shoulder. He stiffened, then shrugged it off.

"Don't touch me."

Silence. He closed his eyes and inhaled. The air smelled like damp rot, which was rather a propos, all things considered.

"Oh, for the love of--" The hand came back up, forcibly turning him around. He stared into pale gray eyes and swallowed. "Would you stop this?"

"What?"

Draco ran his free hand through his hair. It fell in twisted rattails around his face. "You're getting soaked. Let's just go."

"Go?" Harry stared at him, uncomprehending. "You can't expect me to just leave. Not now. Not after..."

"Yes?" Draco replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not after what?"

"Not after I killed him."

Draco closed his eyes. "Harry. You had to kill him. You know that. Everyone knows that." He flung his arms out in a mock crucifixion. "Look around you. The war's over, thanks to you. No one else has to die anymore. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

"What I've always..." Harry swallowed. "But I killed someone."

Draco grabbed his arms and shook him twice, hard. "You had to kill him, Harry. You had to!"

Harry blinked. "I know, it's just I..."

"You what?"

"I always thought I'd feel better after I killed him." Harry looked down.

Draco sighed. "Look, I'm not standing around forever." He looked up and narrowed his eyes. "This rain looks like it's about to get worse." He ducked his head back down and looked Harry directly in the eyes. "Let's just go, all right?"

A loud popping came from just behind Harry, and many more soon followed. He turned around and saw about twenty Aurors standing behind him. One of them motioned to the others, and they all started to move closer to the Dark Lord's body. A few of them began doing spells, for what purpose Harry couldn't discern, and then his head was being dragged around again thanks to a hand on his chin.

"Harry, look at me."

Harry blinked, slowly. "I am looking at you."

"Well... good." Draco cleared his throat. "We should just go back to Hogwarts. Surely McGonagall and the others are all waiting for you to get back." Harry lowered his head. "And Granger and Weasley. You know they wanted to come with you, I'm sure they're fretting and pacing about right about now, completely out of their minds with worry. Don't you want to see them, to let them know you're all right?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right."

Draco smirked. "I know I'm right. Meet you there, then?"

Harry nodded and closed his eyes. He felt his insides split apart as his world dissolved around him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Harry?!" Before he even opened the door, he was encircled in warm, tight arms. "Harry, are you okay? What's happened? Did you do it? Did it work?"

"Hermione, lay off him a minute," Ron called from his bed. His leg was wrapped in a silvery blue cone of light, and he waved Harry over as soon as Hermione let him go. "Harry, how'd it go? Is he dead yet?"

Harry gave a small smile. Ron could always make him smile. "Yeah, Ron. I did it. He's dead."

Ron grinned. "Brilliant, mate!" He leaned forward and patted Harry on the back. "That's ace, that is!"

"Oh, Harry, congratulations!" Hermione smiled, and then put her right hand over her mouth. "I just can't believe it. After all this time, you finally did it."

"Yeah." Harry swallowed and looked away. "I did." He cleared his throat. "So how's the leg, Ron?"

"Eh." Ron shrugged. "Better, least that's what Pomfrey says."

"That's good."

"So, Harry, where's Draco?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, he went to speak with McGonagall. I told him I'd only be a minute."

"You'd better go then, Harry," Hermione said, reproachfully. "You know they'll be waiting for you."

"Yeah," Harry said, pushing his glasses up his nose with his forefinger. "I'd better."

~*~*~*~*~*~

He woke up, panting and sweating. Images flashed through his head, so quickly he could barely make sense of them. But he knew. He knew enough by now to know what had caused them.

It was Voldemort. The damn Dark Lord was still trying to get into his head, to make him give up the fight. But he wouldn't. Oh no. He would keep on hunting him down until the day he could finally see Voldemort's corpse in front of him. Then he would laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

He reached over to the glass of water he kept next to his bed. The liquid felt soothing and cool going down his throat, and he held the last bit of it gratefully in his mouth before swallowing.

He lay back down and closed his eyes. It should be easy enough to go back to sleep. Normally the only thing that kept him awake after dreams like these was his scar, but he didn't even feel it burning at all. Voldemort must be...

He didn't feel it burning at all. His scar. He raised a hand to his forehead, fingers carefully tracing the edges of the jagged mark. It wasn't burning at all.

He got up from his bed and ran to the mirror in his room. It wasn't red. It wasn't swollen. It just looked... normal. Why would his scar look normal? Every time after Voldemort sent him a dream, his scar always...

Oh.

Harry walked back over to his bed and sat down on the edge of it. That's right. Voldemort's dead. Voldemort's dead and he had killed him. He hadn't even laughed. He had always thought he would've laughed, but he hadn't.

He did now. He laughed. He laughed and laughed until he cried, until he couldn't tell if he was laughing or crying anymore.

Then he threw up.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"You're not eating."

Harry dug his fork into his mashed potatoes and took a large bite. He chewed it slowly and swallowed.

Hermione sighed. "Harry, I've got to get back. Professor Vector and I have just finished working out the theory behind the spell that could trace the remaining Death Eaters out there."

Harry nodded. "I know. You've told me."

Hermione put her utensils down with a clack. "Harry, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. What could possibly be wrong?" Harry took a large gulp of pumpkin juice. "I killed him. The war's over. What could be wrong?"

"I don't know, Harry. Why don't you tell me?" Hermione's eyes seemed to drag the truth out of him. They always had, really, and he looked away.

Draco was staring at him from the Slytherin table. The blonde nodded a little. Harry looked back to Hermione. He took another bite of his mashed potatoes.

"These are really good," he said, mouth full.

She sighed.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hogwarts had been their base during the war, with everyone in the Order taking up residence in the extra rooms. Now that the war was over, many people had left Hogwarts to go back to their old homes, to rebuild their old lives.

Harry didn't have an old home to rebuild. He didn't have an old life.

Some people decided to stay during the summer months, just until the students announced the arrival of the next school year. Harry had hated missing his last year of school, hated knowing that Voldemort could take even that away from him. But it had been necessary, and he wouldn't complain about it.

Some of the people who were staying were helping with tracking down the last of the Death Eaters, the ones who were unaccounted for. Ron was stuck in the infirmary and Hermione was busy doing research. Most everyone else had their own lives to attend to.

The war had been his life, and now it was over.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"For fuck's sake, would you stop moping about already?"

The familiar voice made him look up. Harry couldn't help but smile at the annoyed expression on Draco's face. "I'm not moping."

Draco raised an eyebrow and sat down next to Harry. "Not right now, no. But you were before I got here."

"I was not."

"You were too. I just took your mind off of it."

Harry rolled his eyes. Draco had been just as obnoxious as ever since he defected and joined Harry's side. It had been three years since then, and with the war dragging on and people they knew dying what seemed like every day, Harry had never gotten the chance to really get to know Draco. Sure, there had been missions together and shared joys and grievances, but this seemed like the first time he had been with the blonde alone. Ever.

"So, what's got the hero of the wizarding world down?" Draco stretched his legs out in front of him. The sunlight poured down through the leaves of the willow tree above them, and the shadows fell across his legs in blotchy patterns. A small wind blew the shadows around haphazardly. "And why are you sitting on the grass?"

Harry shrugged. "Because I felt like it."

"Ah," Draco said, nodding. "Yes, of course."

"I think the question is, why are you sitting on the grass?"

Draco leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree. "Because I am a follower, Harry."

Harry looked askance at him, unsure of where this conversation was headed. "Oh, really?"

Draco nodded. "Oh yes. I followed my father. That worked until he got thrown in Azkaban, so then I followed the Dark Lord. And that worked for a while, although it was horrible and I hated every minute of it. Did you know he made it a habit to torture his followers? At least five a day."

Harry glanced at the ground. "Yeah, I... I've heard that."

"I never had. At least, not before." Draco crossed his hands behind his head. "Then I decided I'd take Dumbledore's offer, if it was still good, and follow you."

Harry swallowed. "You never followed me, Draco."

"No?"

Harry shook his head. "No, you just... did your own thing. Even now. You just do what's best for you. You don't think about other people. You never have."

Draco straightened up, and his hands fell to the ground. "If that's what you really think, then I don't know why I'm even here." He got up and dusted himself off. He started walking away and turned back suddenly. "Cheer up, Potter. You're ruining morale."

Harry watched Draco walk away and found he had no reply.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"We did it!" Arms wrapped around Harry's waist and he was turned around quickly. "Oh, Harry, we did it!" Hermione was crying, practically hysterical.

"Hermione, what--"

"The spell, Harry! To locate the other Death Eaters! We did it! It works!" She twirled around, laughing. "Don't you see what this means, Harry? It's over! It's really over!"

Harry's eyes widened. "It's over?"

Hermione nodded, light glimmering off the drops still in her eyes. "Yes! We're going to perform the spell tonight. It's going to locate all the remaining Dark Marks and act as a homing device of sorts, enabling us to apparate directly to whichever one we choose at anytime!"

"Hermione, that's... that's brilliant!" Harry hugged her back. "Does Ron know?"

Hermione nodded. "I just came from seeing him. He can't come, they say it'll be about another month before he can use his leg again, but you'll come, won't you, Harry?"

He nodded. "Of course I'll come, Hermione."

~*~*~*~*~*~

A pulse unlike anything he'd felt before surged through him, and he gasped. Similar noises of shock sounded throughout the room, and suddenly the map on the wall in front of them was lit up in several spaces. People were cheering, Professor Vector and Headmistress McGonagall were shaking hands, and Hermione was eagerly making marks on the map. She looked up, caught his gaze, and ran over.

"Harry, it worked! I knew it would!"

"That's great, Hermione. Really, that's fabulous." Harry looked around, anxious for some reason unknown to him. "Hey, Hermione?"

"Hm?"

"Where's Draco?"

Hermione's smile lessened. "Haven't you heard?"

A weight centered itself in his stomach. "No. Heard what?"

"He went back."

"Back?"

"To the Manor." Hermione shrugged. "He just up and left yesterday. I thought he'd told you."

"No, we..." Harry swallowed. "We hadn't discussed it."

"Miss Granger! Well done! Very well done, indeed!"

Hermione turned at the voice and smiled.

Harry stared at the back of her head.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was just as imposing as he remembered it. Possibly more so, because he was alone and that time he had had thirty Aurors with him. But he didn't like to think about that. That time Draco defected and his father turned on him. He tried not to think about it, but being back at the Manor forced those images on him again.

Harry closed his eyes. Maybe he should just leave.

"Thinking of leaving, are you?"

Harry opened his eyes at the cool voice. Draco was standing there, as he always was, with that careful look on his face. "No."

And there was that smirk, the one he had loathed all throughout school. Funny, that it should come to be somewhat soothing to him. "Liar." He tossed his head to one side and leaned his weight on his right leg. "So what are you doing here, Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I just thought that I should..."

Draco glared. "Should what, Potter?"

Harry glared back. "Back to surnames, are we? And here I thought we'd gotten past that point by now. Clearly I was mistaken."

"Clearly."

"Look, I only wanted to see..."

After an extended period of silence, Draco raised an eyebrow. "What? You only wanted to see what?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know." He sighed. "If you were all right, I guess."

Draco held his hands open at his sides. "Well, there you are then. I'm all right. So you can run along now."

"Draco--"

"And anyway, shouldn't you be hunting down the last of the Dark Lord's forces?"

Harry shook his head. "No, that's... I'm taking some time off."

"Really? For what?"

He shrugged. "Personal matters."

Draco inclined his head. "Then please, feel free to continue with your vacation."

"Why are you always such a prat?"

"Why are you always a stubborn idiot?" At Harry's cry of exasperation, Draco's shoulders fell. "What did you expect, Harry?"

"I don't know. Some level of courtesy, maybe?"

"Then you're looking in the wrong place."

Harry looked at him. "Can't we just be how it used to be?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You want us to hex each other whenever we pass by and use childish yet unique swear words on each other?"

Harry chuckled. "No, you dimwit."

"You're off to a good start, then."

"I want us to..."

Draco stared. "To what, Harry? To what?" Draco waited for an answer before closing his eyes. "You already told me what you thought of me. How am I supposed to think?"

"You're supposed to not jump to conclusions! I just wanted to see you, is all, and you're mucking everything up by being you, as usual."

"You just wanted to see me?" Draco's voice was quiet, small, and he cleared it before continuing. "Why?"

"I don't know," Harry said.

Draco seemed to realize that was the only answer he would get. "Well, then, come on in. I'll have to put some tea on or something."

Harry shook his head. "You don't have to."

Draco smiled. "For the Boy Who Lived, tea's the least I can do."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry woke up gasping for breath. He sat up quickly and put his head in his hands. This was getting ridiculous. He couldn't even go two nights without having a nightmare. Things hadn't even been this bad when Voldemort was sending them to him.

Funny, that his subconscious was torturing him even more than Voldemort had been.

His thoughts traveled back to the conversation he'd had before he went to sleep. The students were coming back to Hogwarts in a week, and everyone was expected to be out of there by then. The teachers and students needed their rooms back, and no one had any problem with this at all. Not since the last Death Eater had been rounded up and sent to Azkaban. Everyone was happy to move on with their lives.

Ron and Hermione had offered to let him move in with them, but he knew they had no extra space in their small flat, and he felt awkward intruding on them like that. He could always buy a place of his own, but where would he go? There were no real relatives he could turn to for advice, or even help. He would never go back to the Dursleys, never, and Remus, the last person he had considered related to him at all, had died just over a year ago. There was no one he could turn to.

He just didn't want to be alone anymore.

His thoughts wandered to Draco. He had been visiting the Manor frequently. He had heard Draco complain that it was lonely in the Manor by himself, but surely he would object to Harry moving in with him. After all, they had just barely been getting on with one another. No, it was better to let things lie for now.

Harry's head hit the pillow once again. He hoped it would be easier to fall asleep this time.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"You're moving where?"

Harry cracked a smile at the incredulity in Draco's voice. "Ireland."

Draco was silent for a moment, then asked, "But why?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, I have nowhere else to go. I've always wanted to visit Ireland, they speak English there, the wizarding community's friendly, and why not?"

Draco stared at him, mouth slightly open. Then he took the pitcher of ice water and dumped it over Harry's head. "You are a complete idiot."

The ice cubes fell down Harry's shirt and he shouted at the intense cold. Draco picked a piece of lint off his shirt.

"What did you do that for?!" Harry shouted, shivering and shaking his shirt out. His hair was matted down around his face, and he pushed it aside angrily.

"You are the type of person that only responds to action," Draco said, speaking decisively and philosophically. "I took an action, and you responded to it."

"Anyone would res--"

"Now, I am going to go to the third bedroom on the right on the second floor and clear it out. The house elves will clean it. What you do next is up to you."

Draco got up and studied Harry thoughtfully. He reached out a hand and lifted Harry's shirt. An ice cube fell out. He picked it up and popped it in his mouth.

"Mm..." He said thoughtfully, sucking on the ice cube.

He walked away, Harry staring after him, still shivering.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"It's your birthday today."

Harry nodded, head bent over his extra paperwork from that day. Being an Auror was tough, but he figured it was about the only thing he could do.

A hand pushed the papers aside. Harry watched the pale, slim fingers as they destroyed his carefully ordered pile, and somehow he didn't feel much like objecting.

"Let's do something fun," Draco said.

Harry looked up. "Like what?"

Draco produced an envelope. "I've got tickets to tonight's match. Falmouth Falcons vs. Ballycastle Bats."

Harry smiled. "I haven't been to see a professional match since the World Cup just before fourth year."

Draco smiled back. "I know."

"I couldn't even really enjoy it because you were there."

Draco laughed. "Me? You're the one who was bothering me that whole game."

"And afterwards..." Harry trailed off, unsure how to finish his sentence.

Draco's smile thinned. "Yeah. I remember."

Harry wondered how he could ever forget.

Draco shrugged. "What's past is past. Let's enjoy a game without distractions, shall we?"

Harry shook his head. "You're a distraction just by being there."

Draco smiled. "Well, that just makes things more interesting, doesn't it?"

~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. It was so high. He thought he'd never seen a ceiling as high as this before, unless you counted the Great Hall in Hogwarts, but that had been enchanted. This was just a normal, un-enchanted ceiling. And it was high.

He still hadn't gotten used to that. Even now, about two months after he'd moved in, he still woke up at night from dreams. He still squinted to look at the ceiling, to reassure himself that he was safe, but it was so hard to tell if it was even there at all.

A tentative knock on his door, and Harry cleared his throat. "Just a minute," he called, getting out of his bed and grabbing his dressing robe. He drew it around himself before he opened the door. "Yeah?"

Draco was standing there, in his own dressing robe, looking distinctly put upon. "I heard screaming. Are you all right?"

Harry nodded slightly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a nightmare."

"Oh."

"Wow, I must have been really loud if you heard it all the way from your room," Harry said, laughing a little.

"Yeah, you were pretty loud," Draco agreed. "Listen, Harry, this isn't the first night I've heard you. Are you sure you're okay?"

Harry swallowed. "Yeah. I'm sure, Draco. I'm okay."

Draco shrugged. "All right. But if you ever want to, you know, talk or anything..."

"Yeah. I know, Draco. And thanks."

"No problem," Draco replied, turning to walk away.

"Where is your bedroom, anyway?" Harry asked, just out of curiosity.

Draco smiled. "Just across the hall, of course." He walked to the room opposite and opened the door. "Goodnight, Harry."

The door closed. Harry blinked. He looked at it for a minute, then closed his own door.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"So how have you two been getting along, then?" Hermione asked, sipping her tea slowly.

"Oh, come on, Hermione," Ron said, shaking his head. "You know it's got to be awful. Honestly, mate, you should've just come to live with us."

Harry smiled. "No, really, it's not all that bad."

Ron snorted and took a gulp of his tea.

"So, how are you and Draco getting along?" Hermione asked again.

Harry shrugged. "Well enough, I suppose."

"Haven't tried to kill one another yet, have you?" Ron sighed. "I still can't believe you're living together."

"He's not all that bad, Ron. You just have to get to know him."

Ron scrunched his nose up and narrowed his eyes. "Get to know him? I don't want to get to know him."

Hermione looked upwards and shook her head.

"Well," Harry replied, stirring his tea. "I do."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"I'll only be a minute."

Platinum blonde hair plastered to an angular face. Piercing sharp gray eyes, aristocratic nose, full mouth, lips slightly parted. Long neck with collarbones leading to two broad shoulders. A smooth, pale chest with water running in rivulets down it. Small, pink nipples hard from the chill of the air. Long, lithe legs leading down to two firmly planted feet. Scars, small and large, thin and thick, sporadically placed. The Dark Mark, a scar of sorts itself, outline just barely visible. A voice, cool and deep, trailing over him like fingers, ice cubes, breath.

A raised eyebrow and a bemused expression. "Done staring yet, Harry?"

A precipitous exit.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Another night, another nightmare. This was, evidently, the story of his life. He just couldn't hope to ever get a peaceful night's sleep again.

His door opened. Harry sat up quickly as Draco walked in, closing the door behind him.

"Draco, what--"

"Shh, Harry." Draco got up on the bed and sat next to Harry. "My bed's uncomfortable. I'm sleeping in yours tonight."

Harry swallowed. "Oh."

Draco laid down and turned on his side, so he was facing away from Harry. "Good night."

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He sat up for a few minutes until he gathered the courage up to lay back down. He lay on his back, then on his stomach, then his side, finally resting on his stomach once more.

He could see Draco's hair on the pillow next to his. It felt right, comfortable. He didn't know it would feel like this.

~*~*~*~*~*~

In the morning, when he woke up, Draco's eyes were still closed. Harry yawned quietly and took in the face so close to his own. Their legs had gotten tangled together somehow during the night, and Draco had one arm slung over Harry's hip.

Harry found he didn't mind.

He also found himself leaning forward and lightly pressing his lips to Draco's. They were just as smooth as he had imagined they would be, and he felt an answering pressure against his own. He made to pull away, but the arm around his waist tightened and suddenly Draco's tongue was flicking against his mouth. Then it was inside his mouth, touching his own tongue. His hand moved to the back of Draco's neck, gently massaging. He could feel strands of hair tickling the back of his fingers. Draco's toes were curling against his leg, and Harry pressed his own tongue into Draco's mouth. Soon enough they separated, and Harry let his fingers continue the soothing motion.

"Good morning," Draco said, stretching languorously.

Harry laughed. "Good morning."

And it was.

fin.