Legacy

Chapter Five

If you believe in the power of magic, it's all a fantasy

So if you need to believe in someone, just pretend it's me

It ain't enough that we meet as strangers, I can't set you free

So will you turn your back forever, on what you mean to me

Don't answer me, don't break the silence, don't let me win

Don't answer me, stay on your island, don't let me in

Run away and hide from everyone

Can you change the things we've said and done

Don't Answer Me - Alan Parsons Project

**********************

The Quidditch match was one of the best that had been seen at Hogwarts in several years. Both teams were playing in top form, and despite some underhanded tactics employed by the Slytherins, Ren managed to nick the Snitch moments before the Slytherin Seeker. Gryffindor House was in high spirits.

It was the after party, though, that made the day so memorable for Harry. He and Ginny had been invited, and found themselves having a great time talking to the students, who seemed not at all put out by the adults crashing their party. The older girls seemed very interested in hearing Ginny's stories of her days at school. Harry made his way through the different groups of students, trying to spend a little time with everyone, conscious that he not appear too interested in one student in particular.

The Quidditch team was holding court in the centre of the room, reliving the game and toasting each other with bottles of butterbeer. Trays of what Harry recognized as Weasley Wizarding Wheezes were being passed around the room, along with other safer food. Grabbing what looked like the safest item on the tray, a cheese sandwich, he made his way over to some first year boys, and sitting down on the floor next to them, watched an excellent game of gobstones.

When it was over, he looked for his wife. He spotted her sitting on the sofa, with a couple other students, laughing as Ren pranced around in front of them. He walked over to join them.

"Harry," cried Ginny, laughing, "you have to see this. Do it again, Ren."

Ren looked up at Harry, like he was unsure about it, then launched into the best impression of Trelawney that Harry had ever seen.

"Lies, all lies!" he bellowed, his arms flailing, his eyes wide, and his mouth open. He managed to capture her battiness with uncanny accuracy. Harry laughed, and then tried to stop himself. She was, after all, a fellow teacher.

Seeing that he wasn't being scolded, Ren kept going. "Mr. Potter," he snarled, in such a perfect imitation of Snape that Harry stopped laughing. "Twenty points for breaking curfew. It is past your curfew, is it not?" he snapped, turning his head sharply, twisting his neck in an exact imitation of the Potions teacher.

"That was a good one," Harry admitted.

"Do the new one," yelled Nigel from the other side of the sofa. Several people started watching now.

Ren smirked, nodded to Nigel, and then looked over at Harry. "Your glasses, sir," he asked, primly.

Harry was curious what 'the new one' was, so he handed them over to Ren, and leaned in so he could see a little better.

Renato turned around, put his hands in his hair, messing it as much as he could. Putting the glasses on, he quickly turned around to his audience, looking fairly clueless, and said "Wha..."

Ginny screamed, laughing so hard that she rolled off the end of the couch. "Again," she begged. "Please one more time."

Ren continued looking dense, said "Er..."

Harry sat there, watching Ren do his impression of Harry Potter. Do I really look that spacey, he wondered to himself. Apparently so, because Ren was getting a great reaction from people.

Ginny had tears in her eyes. "That was great," she said, clapping, standing up. "Brilliant." She put her hand on his shoulder as he handed Harry his glasses back.

"Good job, Ren," Harry added, trying to look put off, but not succeeding.

Ren smiled. "Thank you," he said, taking Ginny's hand, and bringing it to his lips, giving it a peck. "I will be studying you next, Madame Potter," he said slyly. She smiled at him, then smoothed his hair back into place.

Harry and Ginny made their farewells, and after instructing them not to stay up too late, as was his duty, he wished them all well and the couple walked down the hall to their suite.

"Ginny, do I..." Harry hadn't made it twenty feet before asking her about Ren's impersonation.

"No, silly, not all the time," she smiled. "Sometimes, when you aren't expecting something, or when you're confused," she smirked, continuing, "or if you don't know how to answer a question. And in the mornings. And..."

"Never mind," he growled, pulling her close, walking down the dark corridor.

A moment passed. "Harry, he's lovely," Ginny sighed. "It's hard for me to hate him."

Harry stopped. "Did you expect to?" he asked.

She stopped and looked up at him, her eyes clouded. "No, not really. I wasn't sure what I was going to feel. I wasn't expecting ... this," she said, her hands in the air. She started walking again.

Harry didn't respond, so he just followed her, as she kept talking, her eyes ahead of her.

"It hurts, you know." He kept his eyes on her, but she kept walking forward. "Its not a bitter hurt, it's more of an achy hurt," she said sadly. She sighed again. "I just wish we had one..." she said, finally looking up at him. She was sad, but not crying. He held her tight. "But I guess we have him, don't we?" she asked quietly. "He's ours, too, right?"

He didn't think he could have loved her anymore. They made it back to their rooms, still holding each other. They stayed like that for hours.

***************************

Sunday morning Harry woke early, his stomach tied in a knot. Hagrid was back, and he had planned on eating with him this morning. He went to meet him in the Great Hall, leaving Ginny sleeping in for once. Hagrid, having decided several years back that his heart wasn't in teaching, retired from the profession, but stayed on as Keeper of Keys and Grounds of Hogwarts. When Harry arrived at the castle, he had been off on some expedition with the giants, having become Britain's unofficial ambassador to the creatures.

Breakfast was uncomfortable. Harry had made the mistake of telling Hagrid where he was going that afternoon; it was obvious that Hagrid had been aware of Renato as well. He tried to alleviate some of the tension by talking to Harry about the problems he had been having with the different creatures that had migrated into the Forbidden Forest in recent years, as well as a few funny stories about some of the students. Harry was grateful for the opportunity to just sit and listen. When they had finished eating, Hagrid clapped Harry on the back, and gave him a one armed hug.

"You're a good boy, Harry," he said quietly.

Harry ran back once more to check on Ginny, see if she had changed her mind about coming with him. She had been surprised when he had first asked her, but it was important to Harry that she felt like she was a part of the whole decision making process. In the end, though, she decided that this was a reunion that she would rather not see, and encouraged Harry to go on alone.

She realized, intellectually, that she had nothing to be romantically jealous of from this meeting. Her instincts told her that Harry would not be satisfied until he had all questions about Renato answered. Nevertheless, Ginny knew that this woman had given Harry what she had not been able to give him, and part of her felt powerless, defeated. But she did not want Harry to pick up on this sadness.

He had too much to deal with already, without his wife acting stupid.

Watching Ginny, Harry knew that she was feeling low, so he gave her an extra big goodbye kiss, before picking up his cloak, and heading for the Front Gates.

Harry had left early, deciding to use the opportunity while in London to do stop off and see Remus, who was staying at 12 Grimmauld Place. It had long since housed the Order of the Phoenix, but remained a kind of informal meeting place whenever former members wanted to get together and talk, or needed a place to stay. It officially belonged to Harry, as well as the rest of the Black fortune, but Harry never stayed there overnight unless he absolutely had to. Too many memories of his godfather. Nevertheless he kept it in impeccable condition, all the dark objects having been removed. Even the old portrait of Sirius' mother had fallen off the wall, on its own, the same day her son has died. Harry often wondered about that - had she really only stayed on out of spite? For her own son? What could come between a mother and her son to create such a rift?

After a long chat with Remus and Charlie Weasley, who had a room upstairs that he occupied on a semi-regular basis, Harry left to do some shopping for his classes. He passed through the Leaky Cauldron, the old fashioned way, recalling when Hagrid had taken him on his eleventh birthday, and made his way to Diagon Alley. He made his way to the Magical Menagerie, and placed an order for a grindylow, some streelers, and a hinkypunk, all to be delivered to him at Hogwarts. Finally, he stopped off and said hello to Fred and George, politely avoiding the samples they offered him, picked up a couple of 'personal items' for himself, and passed on some information about how their kids were doing. Grinning as he left the store, he made his way back up to the Leaky Cauldron, and out into Muggle London. It was a bit of a walk, so he decided to take the Tube.

Getting off at the Kensington Station, he looked again at the address he had been given, and began walking toward Holland Park. He found the street easily enough, it was in a fashionable area, a lovely tree lined street. He stopped in front of a brick townhouse. He stood in front of the door for a long moment, rocking on his feet, then knocked.

The door opened. She was standing in the doorway, looking up at him.

"Harry."

"Aurelia."

She was nervous, too. She took his cloak, and showed him inside and closed the door. They walked down the hall, past a flight of stairs, into the kitchen, where she offered him a chair and some tea.

Harry took a long look at her, sipping his drink. He was flooded by a rush of memories, good, pleasant memories, then a feeling of deep guilt.

She was still lovely, with dark hair and eyes, shining straight black hair, stylishly brushing her shoulders. She was deeply tanned, too, like she had recently spent a great deal of time outside. Her face was marked with laugh lines, around her eyes and the corners of her mouth.

"You look good, Harry," she said, after a moment.

"Thanks. You, too," Harry added, fidgeting. She chuckled, and he laughed, his nerves ebbing away slowly.

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

'Well, like I said, I was expecting this, once I heard you were teaching at Hogwarts this term," she explained.

Harry looked around at the cheerful kitchen, with a large pantry and a parlour off to the right.

"Well, would you like the grand tour first, or do you want to talk?" she asked.

"Em, maybe you could show me around, first."

She rose, elegantly, and led him into the parlour.

It was a large room, with a large sofa, chairs, a small table and a piano in the corner. Bookshelves lined the wall on one side. There were pictures on the walls, on the top of the piano, on the mantle of the fireplace. They were mostly of Renato, or Renato and Aurelia, in different locations: the Eiffel Tower, the Pyramids of Giza, Red Square in Moscow, the Statue of Liberty in New York.

"You've travelled a great deal," said Harry, noting the pictures.

"Yes, I work as a freelance photographer, mostly Muggle magazines and journals," she said. Harry nodded. "I go out, dig around, take pictures, and I get to take Ren with me. He's a great traveller. We do lots of tourist things together, " she said, laughing quietly.

"He's a great kid," he added.

She looked up and smiled. It was still a lovely smile. "Thanks," she said.

She pointed to an upright in the corner. "This is Renato's piano. My mother begged him to learn to play, so he does to please her. I have to order him to practice to keep his skills up, but he's pretty good, when he applies himself," she explained. She walked over to the stairs, and proceeded upstairs, Harry following her.

More pictures on the wall of the stairway, this time older photographs, and not all magical. Some were clearly muggle photos, stately portraits of couples, serious looking children. Aurelia's family.

She stopped at the first door on the right. "I keep it closed, for my protection," she said smiling, and stepped back. Harry slowly opened the door, and walked in.

His first impression was that the walls were alive. Posters covered every bit of two walls. Quidditch teams, rock bands, a couple of lovely young ladies in two-piece swimsuits. Harry was reminded strongly of Ron's old bedroom at the top of the Burrow, when they were young. There were a couple of small broomsticks in the corner, next to what Harry recognized as muggle roller blades. He saw a football and a rugby ball on the floor.

"Does he play rugby?" he asked.

"He was in a summer league, a couple of years ago," she said.

There was a large empty owl cage, and a fish tank with some showy tropical fish.

Harry's first inclination was to laugh. "How could anyone sleep here?" he wondered aloud.

"I know, right?" she added, laughing. "It's worse when he's here, with all his school stuff."

She looked around the room. "Well, I imagine that they all go to sleep when the lights are off, well, except the girls up there," she said dryly, pointing at the giggling bikini girls. "Those," she drawled, "were a gift from young Mister Weasley. I had to put a prudence charm on them, to make sure that they kept their clothes on."

Harry looked shocked, but had no doubt where Jack had gotten those posters. They reeked of Uncle Fred and George... Bugger...

There was a fat cat asleep on his bed. He opened one eye, surveyed Harry for a moment, then resumed napping.

Harry turned to look at the desk next to the door. It was full of quills, ink, and parchment, and a small computer.

The wall above the desk was the only one not filled with posters. This wall had more pictures, including Renato's friends. Harry recognized many of the Gryffindor boys, with Jack and Nigel appearing in several. Pictures of the Quidditch team in their robes. There was a picture of young Renato astride a horse, with an older man (grandfather? thought Harry) standing next to them. Harry picked up one in a frame on his desk. It was Renato and Aurelia, a professional sitting, but an informal pose. He was looking at the camera, smiling, but she was looking at him, tenderly. Renato must have been five or six years old. Harry looked at that picture for a long moment. It was an intensely loving photograph.

Harry put the picture down, turned to Aurelia, and said, "We should talk now."

She nodded, and led him out into the hall. He could see another room across the hall, filled with books and a large desk, must have been her study, and a glimpse of what must have been her bedroom at the end of the hall.

He followed her down the stairs back into the parlour.

She began to talk immediately.

"First, I want to apologize to you, Harry, for not telling you about him. It was not my intention to... I wasn't trying to hurt you or deny you the chance to know him," she paused, "but I had my reasons, and at the time... I felt it was my only real option. I don't ask you to understand, or forgive me, but I do want you to know that none of this had anything to do with me being angry at you."

Harry stared at her, shocked. She had given her speech quickly, methodically, like she had practiced it, had it memorized.

"And they were?" he asked.

"What?" she said, puzzled.

"Your reasons... I'd like to know what they were, if you don't mind." His voice was quiet, but she detected a trace of anger there.

She got up, and looked out the front window, as if she expected someone to knock at the door.

"When I realized I was pregnant, you... you were still gone. You were recuperating from your injuries. No one would tell me where you were. No one would tell me how long you would be gone. I wasn't sure you were ever coming back. I found out things from Luna, she was the only one..." Aurelia got quiet. "When you did come back, you were... well, we were not going to be together. You were involved, pretty deeply, with Ginny Weasley, and I... I didn't want you to be with me only because I was pregnant."

Harry started to talk, but she turned to him and interrupted, shaking her head softly. "Wait, please, I'm not finished. Yes, maybe I should have told you. Under normal circumstances, I might have. But you were Harry Potter. Remember? Harry Potter," she mumbled. "There were people who still wanted you dead. Everyone else wanted you to be their hero."

She paused, shook her head. "Can you imagine what it would have been like, at that moment, to be Harry Potter's son?"

There was a long moment before she spoke again. "I don't even mean the scandal that we would have caused, The Boy Who Lived and The Girl in Trouble. I was worried about the danger! I wasn't sure how safe it would have been." She looked up at him. "You were a target. You still are," she said, looking in his eyes.

Harry was quiet. "Okay," he said. "I was a target. The timing was terrible. But... I still deserved to know about him."

Harry stood up now, slowly, and turned around, looking at the cosy parlour. "I grew up without all of this. I didn't have a father; I didn't have either of my parents. I missed so much, not knowing them. I wanted to know my father so badly," he said, his fists clenched, his knuckles white. "I needed that relationship."

His voice was rising now.

"And when I think that there is someone out there, who is my son," she flinched a little at this, "my son, who I don't have any meaningful relationship with... I've just met him! I don't know him, and I've missed so much. His birth, his first steps, first word... I wanted to teach him to ride a broom, to throw a ball, to read..." Harry stopped talking now, tears threatening to choke out his words.

He composed himself, and sat back down on a chair.

"Yes, I'm angry," he said quietly. "I am, not totally at you, but... I just wanted to be a part of his childhood. He needed a father. And I ... I needed him. He is the only child I'll ever have, and I missed it."

Uncomfortable silence.

"What have you told him about me?" asked Harry.

She paused, then spoke. "I told him that you were dead."

Harry put his head in his hands.

"Do you know what that's like, growing up thinking that your parents are dead?" he said, accusingly.

"Yes, I have an idea," she said, coldly. "Harry, please, understand that this was not my idea of an ideal situation. This is not what I wanted. But it was the best I could do, under the circumstances. I can't tell you I'd do things differently, given another chance," she said, near tears now as well. "All in all, I'd have rather have had you in our lives, as my husband, as Renato's father. But things," she hissed, "don't always work out the way we want..."

She got up, walked across the room, and picked up a book. She walked over to the chair Harry had sat in, handed it to him, and walked back into the kitchen. He could hear her crying.

Harry opened up the book.

It was a scrapbook, full of pictures of Renato, as a baby, toddling in a diaper and tiny cloak; sitting outside, pulling a cat's tail and laughing; learning to fly on a broom, inches above the ground; there were dozens of pictures, neatly labelled, with some souvenirs attached. Theatre tickets, concert stubs. Renato's Hogwarts letter, next to a picture of him in his Gryffindor robes. Pictures of him with lots of family, friends... Harry's eyes stopped on a group photograph, the adults in the background watching the boys in the front walking on their hands. Harry saw Luna and Neville...

Harry sat, looking at the book for several minutes. So many things he missed. So much time gone. It wasn't fair. The smiling faces looking up at him from the book were laughing, happy. Why didn't anyone tell him?

He got up and walked back into the kitchen and sat at the table, next to Aurelia.

"Neville and Luna - do they..." Harry asked.

Aurelia shrugged. "Do they know? I don't know. Honestly, we've never discussed it. Luna knows everything, though," she muttered.

"What happens now?" he asked, closing the book.

"I don't know," she whispered. "I'm afraid of telling him now, he'll be so mad at me. But with you there, I'm more afraid that it's going to come out. If he finds out from someone else... it should be us that tell him." She had tears in her eyes. She walked out of the room, came back with a handkerchief, and dried her eyes.

Harry reached over for her hand. She smiled, weakly. "It's okay," she said. "I'm not totally unhappy. I've always wanted him to know you, who you were, the real you. You're like Superman to him."

"Does he know Superman?"

"Oh, yes. He's quite familiar with the muggle world. We live in both worlds, fairly comfortably."

Harry, whose current relationship with the muggle world was infrequent at best, looked fascinated. He had noticed all sorts of muggle items, but it hadn't clicked.

"How do you get the electricity to work here? In conjunction with magic, I thought that was hard to do, get them to work together like that? Do you use your magic near all these muggles?"

She nodded. "Oh, you can do lots of things if you know the right people," she said, smugly. "A donation here or there will get you 'proper authorization' for certain conveniences." She sat down at the table, opened a carafe of wine, poured a large glass, and offered some to Harry. He declined.

"It is important the Renato be comfortable in both worlds. My family has been noble for centuries. When Renato takes his place at the head of that family, he'll be Renato, Baron de Cassini. His place in muggle society is already set."

Harry was confused. "But what if he doesn't want that? What if he wants to be a Wizard?"

"He can do both," she said, confidently. "We have been managing that quite nicely, for four generations now. My great-grandmother was a powerful witch, from England, and through her, the family is now magical as well. But that has not prevented us from keeping our place in society. We have a long tradition of philanthropy and patronage that we cannot allow to disappear." She looked around. "It's allowed us to live in relative comfort, in both worlds."

Harry was strongly reminded once more of the Malfoys.

"It just sounds like you have his life planned out for him. What if that isn't what he wants to do?"

Aurelia gazed at Harry. "Renato can do whatever he wants. That is his choice. In fact, he has more choice than most people on the planet. He is being brought up to understand that it IS possible to live in both worlds. He has been given the best education, the most thorough training..." Aurelia stopped talking, and put her hands, fingers interlaced, on the table.

"When the time comes, he can decide what he wants to do," she said, at the dazed look on Harry's face. "My guess, however, is that he will accept his legacy - continue to manage the family business, while living a proper Wizard lifestyle. He couldn't turn his back on either world. They are both important to him."

Aurelia drank from her wine glass, closing her eyes. "All I want is for Renato to be happy. He had been given the best of both worlds. Have I spoiled him? Probably. Is he a spoiled brat? Not even close," she said firmly. "He has been given advantages, but in exchange for that, he understands that he has been given a great deal of responsibility. He knows that much is expected of him."

Harry thought of Malfoy again, and how the need to please his family had almost driven him mad during their last year. This situation did not sit well with him, but he still felt like an outsider, and wasn't sure that it was his place was to pry.

But if he took his place as Renato's father, what kind of impact could he make? What could he hope to accomplish? Would his input even be wanted? The boy was almost fourteen, not a child much longer.

"Tell me more about him. Tell me things that I should know," Harry asked.

She smiled. "I'll start with the good things. He's smart. Smarter than I was, and that's saying something," she smirked. "He's athletic, but not to the point of cockiness. Sits well on a broom, and a horse. Excellent memory. He can tell stories, make them up out of thin air. Has a penchant for writing, if you can coax it out of him," she scowled, thinking. "He used to love to write, but has started growing out of it. I'll find some of his short stories and send them to you."

She cocked her head, smiled thinking of her son. "He likes chocolate, sugary sweets, but hates all things orange flavoured. Loathes peanuts," she said, shaking her head as if this were unimaginable.

"He'll make himself sick on treacle, if you're not careful. He's headstrong, and if he's with his friends, he thinks he's unstoppable. His social graces are bar none, he's been taught the manners of the court, and though he would deny it, he likes acting... refined," she laughed. "A real prince, he thinks he is," she sniffed, taking another deep drink of wine.

"Yes, I've seen some of that," Harry said, thinking of his introduction. "Anything else?"

"Oh, that was the good part," she said, smiling. "Now, lets see. Negative. He's a slob. I can't imagine what his room at school looks like. He can be snotty at times, almost snobbish," she said, stopping when she saw the horrified look on Harry's face. "I don't mean he looks down on people. He's not elitist, but sometimes he forgets that other students haven't had the same...advantages that he has. He gets impatient with them."

My son is Draco Malfoy, he said to himself in horror.

"I will admit that since it has been just the two of us, and we've shared everything, he's always been included in the decisions I've made. He's been indulged," she admitted. "He might have an inflated sense of himself, compared to another child who had, well, a proper mum and dad, and an older brother to pound on him, or a younger sister to divide the attention and resources... I did what I thought was best for us, the best I could." She put her hands in her lap, looking at Harry to get his reaction.

Harry looked back, then grinned, and said, "You've done a great job. He's fantastic, really."

She smiled broadly. "I had really good material to work with."

"I'm glad to hear he's been comfortable. When I think of my childhood... well, I don't think much about it anymore...but I know it's not what my parents would have wanted for me." Harry paused, the words coming out before he realized he was saying them. "Since I've found out about Renato, I've been thinking about them more lately. What they must have wanted for me, like what I want for Renato."

There was a noise in the window, a Great Grey owl appeared with a letter. Harry recognized it as the one that dropped off letters and packages to Renato, a couple of times in the past week.

Aurelia took the letter off, and put in on the table, unopened.

She turned to Harry, and asked, "What do you want to do next?"

"I need to talk to my wife."

She nodded. "And then?"

Harry sighed, then said, "I want to tell him the truth."

Aurelia nodded again. "Okay. When?"

"Let me think about it. It's going to be a huge shock, and I don't want it to interfere too much with his school, and..." he said, looking at her, "and I want you there, too. I'll need you there, to help me with this."

She nodded. He is going to be furious with me, she thought to herself.

"Before the holiday, okay?"

"Yes."

Harry got up to leave, feeling like there was something else he had to say.

"Lia, you have a lovely place here. I can see that Renato's been brought up well. He's polite, intelligent, balanced. He's been loved, that much is obvious. Thank you for raising him so well. I don't think I could have done as ably in your circumstances," he said quietly, and meant it.

Aurelia was stunned. She hadn't expected that. Anger, resentment, threats, even, but not gratitude. She turned back in the parlour for the book Harry had seen earlier.

"This is for you," she said, putting it in his hands.

"I couldn't take this," he said, pushing it back.

"No, this is your copy," she said softly. Harry looked at her with confusion in his eyes.

"I knew this would happen, one day. I made this one for you."

She took his hand.

"He's the best part of you and me. Talk to him. Get to know him."

"I know, he's amazing," Harry said, looking at the book. "I love him so much already."

She smiled, nodded. "Let me know when you want to talk to him."

Harry's head was overflowing with thoughts and emotions. It was time to go, he needed to think, and he needed to breathe.

Aurelia walked him to the door. "I'll be in touch," he said, giving her a kiss her on the cheek, and then walked out the door.

*****************************

Aurelia sat for a long time in front of the fire, after he left.

It had all been too much.

He called her 'Lia'. No one called her that anymore, except Luna. She had been so nervous at the whole prospect of the interview, it had been hard for her to enjoy the fact that he was sitting next to her, in her house. She felt like she still hadn't quite caught her breath. He still had that affect on her.

She looked around the room at the photos on the wall, the memories. She passed them everyday now, and didn't really look at them anymore. It was evidence of the passage of time, the hallmarks of a family, a display of a boy's life.

She thought about what it must have looked like to Harry.

She wondered what his wife thought about all of this.

The fire was blazing, and the room was warm and comforting. She finished her wine, and picked up her feet, curling up on the sofa.

She thought about the last time she had seen Harry so visibly upset around her. The last time they had ever spoken... but wait, there had been another time, right? Yes, she thought. She closed her eyes and put her head on a cushion. She remembered...

"Come on."

The voice behind her, warm breath on her neck.

"Go away. I have to finish this," she said, her eyes fixed on the Arithmancy book that lay open on the library table. She couldn't leave; it had to be finished this evening.

"Come on. Come with me."

"Harry, this is due tomorrow. Tomorrow. I can't believe I've put it off until now, really. Please let me finish this," she whispered, pleading.

"I've been a good influence on you, then." His eyes were dancing.

She turned and looked at him. She hadn't been this close to him all day, and after what happened last night, she was still nervous. It had been her first time...

He sat on the chair next to her, and started to stare.

She turned back to her book, trying to ignore him. Finally she asked, "How long are you going to do that?"

"Until you pick up your books and come with me," he said. "I need to see you, alone."

She turned and looked at him. His expression, a mixture of curiosity and glee, told her that he was thinking the same thing she was. He put his hand on her shoulder, gently rubbing it with his thumb.

Okay. She gathered her books, put them in her bag, stood and followed him out of the library.

Once outside in the hall, he grabbed her hand and started walking upstairs.

They were going to the Astronomy Tower. Hmmm...

They were almost there, when Harry turned onto a dark hallway, and opened the door to a room that looked unused. In the back, near a large window, was evidence of some human habitation. A pillow, blanket, some candy wrappers, a few books. Harry's hideaway.

He sat down by the window, opened it, and she felt cool air rush in. It was almost April.

He reached for her hand, and pulled her down. She fell next to him, and he put his arms around her, kissing her.

His kiss had changed. After what had passed between them the previous evening, they had become more playful, less curious. He was kissing with confidence, experience. She was enjoying the kisses, but in the back of her head, she wondered if he wanted a repeat of the night before. Did he bring her here to have sex again?

His kisses were growing urgent now, stronger. His hold on her back, his hands moving from her shoulders to her waist, in her hair, on her legs.

She had enjoyed it, hadn't experienced the pain some girls said they felt. To her it had been fascinating, liberating. The closeness she felt... oneness with someone... but if that was all he wanted, then... she started to panic.

Dark thoughts raced through her mind, as his mouth moved from one side of her throat to another.

As if reading her mind, he slowly stopped his exploration, and pulled back to look at her.

His eyes were beautiful. She kissed him, softly.

His eyes filled with tears.

What... she thought. He was shaking.

Something had changed, in a split second.

Not expecting that reaction, she put her arms around him.

He had something on his mind - that much was obvious. She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when he put his head on her chest. She put her arms around him, ran her fingers through his hair, tugging it a little in the back, the way he liked it.

He snuggled into her, and turned to look out the window. They sat there for a long time, holding each other, not speaking. He was lost in thought again, a million miles away.

He was looking at the sky. The stars were appearing one by one, growing bright. She saw Orion rising in the night sky. She recognized Canis Major, and the beautiful Dog Star, brightest star in the sky.

A tear fell on her hand.

They never talked about his problems, and if he didn't want to tonight, that was okay, too. Time enough to find out later. Right now he just needed holding.

His eyes, fixed on the heavens, filled with tears.

She rocked him, trying to soothe him. No time for words.

After what seemed like hours, he looked at her. His eyes were red, but free from tears. He was still holding her close. He turned his head onto her neck. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." he whispered.

"Shhh," she said.

"I... I just miss him, so much."

"That's okay, love."

"It's his birthday. He would have been thirty eight today." His voice was hoarse.

"I'm so sorry, love."

"He would have liked you..."

Harry lay his head down on her again, and she wrapped her arms around him, tight, rocking and stroking his back. After a few minutes, his breathing became calm, regular. He had fallen asleep.

She would find out later who he was talking about. He would tell her when he was ready. She closed her eyes. He loved her, she could feel it. He loved her like she loved him. She fell asleep holding him...

A noise in the kitchen startled her.

She opened her eyes. She was still on the sofa, but the sky outside her was dark now. She sat up, still lost in the blurry dream. Harry. She shook her head to clear the tender images away. Enough already... no more.

She got up, walked over to the kitchen, and saw Renato's owl, Pushkin, perched on an owl roost, next to Suki, her lovely Great Grey. He held his leg out to deliver his letter, then made off for his cage, stocked with owl treats.

Damn... Spoiled worse than Renato...

Mum,

We won! It was wicked! Jack made some decent saves, before he was clocked by a Bludger. Good news is I caught the Snitch right afterwards, so Jack's being injured didn't hurt us too badly. I mean, it hurt him pretty badly, but we won, so that okay, right?

In case you were having a hard time deciding what to get me for my birthday (oh, that's coming up, isn't it, hint, hint), a motorcycle would be stellar. I heard you could charm them so that they fly. Safer than a broom, no? Think about it, please!

Love you,

Renato

Indeed... a motorcycle... not likely, Renato... she tossed the letter on the table, then went upstairs.