On Different Sides

On Different Sides - Chapter One

"What's past is prologue."

-Shakespeare

"This ruined puzzle is beige with the pieces all face down so the placing goes slowly. The pictures of anything other than it's meant to be. But the hours they creep, the patterns repeat."

-Dashboard Confessional

Morning. One green eye opened lazily just to double-check. Unfortunately, the sun was well and truly up and shining into the room. Why was it that morning always came entirely too soon? The other eye opened and Harry Potter sat up in resignation, reaching for his glasses and looking at the clock: six in the morning. He didn't have to be in to work until seven. Plenty of time to go for a run and shower, maybe even grab a bite...or go back to sleep.

As pleasant as that thought was, he knew it wasn't really an option. He had too much on his mind and nothing was more conducive to working things out than a brisk run. It was a habit he had started during his last year at school and he had held it dear ever since. He had always felt that he had very little that was his and his alone. Running was the one thing that was. At first everyone had thought him mad, jogging around the lake day after day. After all, there were plenty of easier ways to stay in shape accessible to young wizards and witches. No one understood why he chose that form of exercise.

He had been used to that particular reaction from those around him for years. Everyone liked to say they knew Harry Potter, but very few people actually did. He smiled sadly and shook his head; it had gotten worse after his time at school. He was still watched from afar, of course, but generally with a vague sense of distaste.

Sadly, that included many of the people he had loved. That was the worst bit, of course. The fact that his legions of fans had buggered off made very little difference to him; he had never asked for their attention. In point of fact, the sudden decline in interest after Hogwarts had actually been welcome.

But the people he considered his family had been another matter altogether. He'd gone on, as he always had, but even a decade couldn't heal the wound slashed across his world so many years before. He was beginning to think nothing ever would. He'd done what he could, however, to make as much of his life as possible.

He glanced at the clock again. If he didn't get a move on, he would be late - and he had never been late. With a final stretch, he swung his legs over the bed and set about looking for his trainers.

~*~

An hour later, Harry walked briskly into a small dining hall, lit brightly by sunlight streaming in through roughly a dozen windows. He felt his heart immediately lighten as soon as he walked through the doors.

"Harry!" a small voice squealed happily. And there would be the reason why. A few small girls, varying in age from five to eight came running over to him. The bravest of them, Emma, threw her arms around his waist. She was small for her five years, but made up for it with her enthusiasm. He smiled and patted her head affectionately before squatting down to her level.

"Morning, monsters," he grinned, looking at each of them in turn. Emma unconsciously played with one of her plaits, grinning toothily at him.

"I'm not a monster," she admonished seriously, the small gaggle of girls behind her nodding solemnly in agreement. "I am a Fairy Princess."

Harry tried his hardest to contain the smile that was threatening to swallow his face whole. "Is that right?"

"Yes, it is." Harry straightened up and turned to smile at Ginny Weasley upon hearing her voice. She grinned cheekily and added, "We just have to find her a tiara and she'll be good to go."

Harry laughed. "Tiaras for everyone!" he grinned and the girls squealed again in delight, causing a small group of nearby boys to groan. "That is," he added seriously, "if I hear you were all on your best behaviour in school today."

The girls thought about that for a moment, Emma harder than most. Harry found himself trying not to smile again. She was certainly a precocious child. Finally, she nodded, and the deal was made. "Good, now go eat...monsters." The girls giggled and scampered back to their table. Harry couldn't think of a better sound in the whole world.

Turning back to Ginny, he asked, "Everyone accounted for?"

She nodded and fell into step beside him as he made his way to the front of the room. "Took a while to get Moira out of bed, but otherwise, it's been a pleasant morning so far."

"And Aaron's cold?" he asked.

"He's still sniffly, but doing much better. We really do need to find another Medi-Witch," she added. "I can handle the small things, Harry, but I worry something will happen that's beyond my capabilities to heal."

Harry let his gaze travel across the room, stopping briefly on each of the thirty-two children. The thought of anything happening to any one of them made him want to turn green. "I'll see what I can do," he said.

She nodded. "You know," she said seriously, "a good place to start would be the Gala this evening."

Harry groaned. "Gin - "

But she cut him off. "Harry, this orphanage was the best thing you have ever done, but we need help. I know you hate Wizarding parties, but it's a good opportunity to raise money. And besides, it would do you good to get out."

"We're fine, Gin," he said, perhaps a bit more harshly than he would have liked. She frowned and whirled on him.

"Harry Potter, you're always going on about how nothing is too good for these children! Are you trying to tell me that you are too good to go out to one little party?"

He sighed. "That's not fair and you know it."

Ginny took a calming breath, her features softening as she did so. "You should know better than most that life isn't fair," she said softly. "I know we're doing fine, but the classrooms could use an overhaul, and we could do with taking on another teacher."

He sighed again and nodded. "You're right, I know you're right. What time is the bloody thing?"

Ginny laughed. He knew he sounded like a child that had just lost a very good cookie. "Language, Harry. Eight sharp. I have some errands I need to run, so I'll just meet you there."

He nodded in resignation and she smiled at him before wandering off to mingle with the children. Harry headed to the nearest table and sat down heavily, looking at a small sandy haired boy quietly eating his porridge while his ears smoked hazily. "Never grow up, Aaron. It's entirely no fun."

The boy only nodded and sneezed.

~*~

Harry slowly brought the flute of champagne to his lips, studying the crowd over its rim. He noted that more than one person suddenly averted their eyes as his gaze swept past. He didn't know how Ginny managed to talk him into coming to these things, but she always seemed to. It was painfully obvious the community at large did not desire his presence among them. He lowered the glass and chuckled to himself. Oh, how the mighty fall.

It wasn't as though he really minded. After all, all he had ever really wanted was to have a normal life and now he had that. The amusing thing about the whole situation was that his idea of a normal life had been his downfall in the world's collective eye. While the wizarding world as a whole was generally tolerant, that rule apparently didn't apply to The Boy Who Lived. The public had wanted Harry to have a real love story as befits a real hero. They did not, however, want that love story to involve Draco Malfoy.

Harry couldn't understand that. Love was supposed to be a good thing, wasn't it? Something every witch and wizard hoped for. When it came down to it, the heart wanted what the heart wanted; it was as simple as that. Harry, however, had never been entitled to simple. He smiled to himself, and it was a bitter smile. He'd heard the rumors that abounded about him. Harry Potter, the asexual. He had never dated again after Draco. He had vowed never to suffer through anything like that again. Better to be alone.

He felt arms wrap around his waist and a cheek press into his shirt, drawing him away from his thoughts. "Hiya handsome."

He set his glass aside, turned into the embrace and smiled, genuinely this time. "You're late." He leaned down to kiss a pale cheek. "You look lovely as always, Gin."

She grinned broadly at him. "So do you, Harry." She eyed him up and down. "Oh, what a waste," she said dramatically. They both laughed. It was a running joke between them. Before The Scandal (as they tended to refer to it), there were those who were of the opinion that Harry and Ginny were destined to be together. No one had bothered asking either of them how they had felt about that. The two had begun spending much of their time together because it was expected of them and because of Ron and Hermione's developing relationship. As a result, they'd become fast friends. It hadn't taken much time at all to discuss the possibilities of a romance. Harry would never forget Ginny's exact thoughts on the matter.

"Not bloody likely!" she had shouted before laughing herself breathless. "Oi, Harry, the last thing I want is to tie myself to anyone, least of all a complete pouf." With one sentence she'd knocked the wind out of him. He had stared at her in horror, which only served to send her into another laughing fit.

"Oh this is brilliant," she'd wheezed. "You had no idea I'd figured that out, did you?" The only response he had given was the sudden reddening of his face. At that, she'd sobered. "Harry, it's perfectly all right. I don't think anyone else remotely suspects." As was her habit, she knew exactly what he was thinking. "And honestly, what business is it of theirs anyway?"

Harry hadn't been able to hold back a slight smile. "If you use that logic," he had asked, "then what business is it of yours either?"

She'd shot him a cocky grin. "Oh, that's easy enough. As your very best friend I hold the right to poke my nose into any of your business as I see fit. As my very best friend, you hold the same right with me."

"I must have missed that in the friendship contract," he'd laughed.

"Yes, well, you were never one for reading the fine print," she'd retorted primly.

That day had been one of many turning points in Harry's life that year. They had talked on about it for hours afterward. Harry had been so relieved to have someone to confide in that he had opened up to her utterly. During the rare times he would look back on that day, he usually chided himself for not telling her sooner. It would have saved him hours of self-torment. But he had been afraid she wouldn't understand. How very wrong he had been. Not only did she understand, she accepted without hesitation. She had kept his secret until it had been blasted out of the water, and when that had happened she had been the first to come to his defense.

Really, everyone who loved him had been wonderful. Obviously Sirius and Remus hadn't had a problem. Ron and Hermione had come around eventually, though it had hurt their friendship somewhat - not so much because of everything that had happened but because of whom it had happened with. Ron had had a hard time coming to terms with that and Harry really couldn't blame him. Draco had been horrid to Ron for as long as anyone could remember. The only consolation to Ron, though he'd never admitted it, was that Malfoy had proven beyond a doubt that Ron had been right about him all along.

For the most part, though, everyone important to him had stood by him for the duration of the aftermath and beyond, regardless of their personal feelings on the matter. For the most part. There had been two people he had lost because of The Scandal: the only person he had ever loved and the only mother he had ever known. For reasons unknown, Molly had never forgiven him for what had happened. It put quite the strain on Christmas, but the Weasley children always insisted he be there. No matter what, he was and always had been family.

He felt Ginny stiffen and was pulled back to the present. He pulled away from her, turning in time to see Molly bearing down upon them. Ginny wove her fingers through his and gave a gentle squeeze. These confrontations were always draining for both of them. Harry wondered which one of them would get the first tongue-lashing.

"Ginny," Molly greeted her daughter. Ah. Harry would owe Ginny a Galleon. Another game they'd played for years: a Galleon to whoever was hit first by the storm that was Ginny's mother.

"Hello Mum," Ginny smiled. Harry made a mental note to remind her later that when smiling, it usually seems more genuine if it doesn't look like you've just eaten a flobberworm.

"I was hoping to have a word with Harry, dear," Molly announced. It appeared he'd be winning a Galleon after all.

"Oh, sure," Ginny answered, her surprise evident in her voice. "I'll just go say hello to Dad." She kissed Harry's cheek and he told her he would come find her when he was finished. She nodded and left them, Harry watching her until she reached her father. He then turned his attention back to Mrs. Weasley.

"What can I do for you, Molly?" he asked, keeping his voice smooth and affecting a polite tone.

"You can stop sharing a house with my daughter," came the vehement reply. So it was to be the living arrangements argument. They hadn't had this particular talk in months. He had actually figured she'd finally come to terms with it. His mistake.

"Molly, I've told you more than once that I own that house. I have no intention of moving, nor do I intend to tell Ginny she has to leave. We're happy - why can't it just be left at that?"

"She'll never find a decent wizard to settle down with when everyone knows she's living with you," Molly argued.

Harry gave a surprised shout of laughter. "You can't be serious." One look at Molly's face changed his mind. "Molly, that's complete rubbish. You know as well I do that Gin has no desire whatsoever to settle down with anyone just yet. Beyond that, the entire world knows that I am the last person who would be a romantic rival."

"Be that as it may, Harry, it's unseemly," she persisted.

Harry couldn't keep from shaking his head in disbelief. "Last I checked, we were both adults. I'm sorry, Molly, but I see no reason to change anything about our living arrangement. Now, if you'll excuse me please, I'd like to say hello to Ron and 'Mione before I leave." He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and beat a hasty retreat before she could protest. One of these days, he mused as he made his way through the crush, he would really have to sit down and have a long talk with her.

"Harry! There you are, we've been looking all over," Ron said as Harry approached him and his wife.

"Not staying long, I'm afraid," Harry grinned apologetically as he kissed Hermione's cheek. "'Mione, you look positively radiant."

"That's in the job description, or so I hear," Hermione smiled serenely and patted her slightly distended abdomen. She and Ron had only told him about the baby a few days earlier, and he as well as everyone else who knew was still ecstatic, and not a little nostalgic. When did they get old enough to start having children? It was mind boggling at the very least. He couldn't help feeling slightly saddened by it as well, knowing he would never have any children of his own. That had been one of the reasons he had founded The Home. "Harry," she chastised, "did you come alone again?"

Ron rolled his eyes behind her and Harry grinned at him. "I've never come alone to any function."

"Ginny doesn't count," Hermione mumbled.

"Thanks a lot," came Ginny's amused voice from behind them. Hermione actually blushed as Ginny hugged her.

"You look fabulous," Gin smiled at her.

"So do you," Hermione returned. "Where did you get that dress?"

Harry watched them as they chatted. They both really did look wonderful. Ginny's dress was made of a shimmery green fabric that seemed to breathe with a life of its own as she moved, clinging to her figure. Her hair was swept up to the top of her head, and then allowed to cascade down in fiery ringlets. Where Ginny was stunning in her beauty, Hermione's beauty was more understated. She really did look radiant. Her dress was far simpler, a deep sapphire blue that matched Ron's eyes. It wasn't nearly as clingy as Ginny's, due to Hermione's very slightly enlarged belly. Harry had the feeling she was doing everything in her power to show off her condition. She was extraordinarily happy, as well she should be.

"What did Mum want with you?" Ginny asked, turning the group's attention back in his direction.

"Oh, erm, she wanted to know when I was going to kick you out," he smiled uncomfortably. He hated causing problems between Ginny and her mother.

"Bloody hell," she swore, eliciting a horrified "Ginny!" from Hermione. Ginny grinned apologetically at her friend but asked Harry, "What did you tell her?"

"The same thing I always do," he shrugged, "that we're happy with things as they are." He sighed quietly. "I really am going to have to settle things between us one of these days."

Ron laughed nervously at that. "Be sure to let me know when you plan to, mate," he said, "so I can be as far away from you both as possible."

"Cheers," Harry said wryly, "real confidence booster you are, Weasley."

Ron grinned unapologetically. "The truth is never easy to hear," he said, nodding wisely. Hermione punched him in the arm.

"All right, Socrates," she smiled, "Let's go do the rounds. I'd like to be home and in bed before it's terribly late."

Her husband smiled lecherously at her. "For once, a plan I can support completely."

It was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes at her friends as she dragged him toward his father, who was chatting amicably with a small group of Ministry officials. "Off we go, Casanova."

Harry chuckled as they started to wander off. Ginny said something about being right back and headed off in the opposite direction when Hermione whirled around suddenly, and came back toward him. "I completely forgot," she said, slightly breathlessly. Harry quirked a brow at her. She fidgeted for a minute, making Harry wonder exactly what she was about to tell him. Hermione Weasley rarely fidgeted.

"Hermione, I don't think this is the time," Ron said, but she shook her head.

"He needs to know," she replied sternly.

"Know what, exactly?" Harry asked.

"I don't really know how to tell you this," Hermione began. She took a deep breath and Ron actually looked around as though trying to find a place to hide. Hermione straightened her shoulders and said, "Draco Malfoy's back."

That's odd, Harry thought to himself, I don't recall 'Tilting Ballroom' being included on the invitation. He shook himself, remaining outwardly calm. He forced a smile and nodded. "When did you hear?"

Hermione smiled sadly, "Word reached my office this morning."

Funny, that. Word had a way of not getting to Harry anymore. Hermione's presence in his life was beneficial in more ways than he could count, sometimes.

Hermione touched his arm gently. "I'm so sorry, Harry. If I hear anything else, I'll owl you."

He nodded. "Thanks for telling me. It explains the excessive whispers," he smiled.

She nodded and guided Ron away through the crowd.

"I still can't believe I finally get to be an auntie," Ginny grinned as she reappeared at his side.

"About time if you ask me," Harry said, latching on to the topic. He could deal with the not-so-happy news later.

"Well, no one did, did they?" she retorted.

"They never do," he said gravely and she laughed.

She looked surreptitiously around them and asked, "Are you quite all right? You look like you've just eaten Ron's cooking."

He frowned. The problem with spending the majority of one's time with someone was that person learned to read one entirely too well. "Not here," he said. "We can talk when we get home."

"Soon, then?"

He nodded. "I've put my appearance in. I don't much fancy staying any longer."

"Right then, I'll just say my goodbyes," she smiled at him and walked off.

"You've been here rather long," someone said dryly from behind him. Did no one approach from the front anymore? Harry turned and smiled.

"I was wondering if you would show, Sirius," he said, hugging him in greeting.

"What? And miss a chance to offend this lot?" the older wizard laughed, reaching out a hand to his partner. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin had also fallen through the cracks as far as communal acceptance went. Too many people blamed them for Harry's fall from grace. According to the gossip that had flown around afterward, general wizarding consensus was that if Sirius hadn't adopted Harry, as was his right, Harry never would have been exposed to such things and been swayed in that direction. Harry was endlessly amused by such logic. Let the public think what they wanted, he'd been thrilled to have his own family at last, as skewed from the norm as it may have been.

Harry grinned, shaking Remus' free hand. "Hello, Remus."

Remus smiled in return. "It's been too long, Harry," he said, his voice lost somewhere between greeting and admonishment.

"I know, I need to come round more often," he repeated the oft heard lecture. "I promise, soon I'll come for an extended visit."

"We'll be holding you to that," Sirius said.

"See that you do, I need a holiday," Harry grinned.

"Sirius, Remus, it's so good to see you!" Ginny said happily as she returned to Harry's side. She gave each man a quick kiss and they smiled fondly at her. Harry knew full well that they regarded her as much a daughter as they did him a son. "You haven't only just got here have you?"

"That we did," Remus affirmed, "but feel free to take your leave anyway. Harry's promised us a long visit soon, you can come with him." His eyes held concern, and Harry knew they had heard the news as well.

"I'll be looking forward to it," she smiled before turning to Harry. "Shall we?"

He nodded, feeling relief sweep through him at the prospect of escape. "Quite."

They each hugged Harry's parents and promised to owl, then made their way to the exit.

~*~

Ginny changed as quickly as she could, taking time only to clean her face and remove the curling charm from her hair, pulling it back into a ponytail. She stopped briefly in the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine and grab a bottle of beer for Harry. Something was telling her they'd be needing a drink.

She'd known that although he'd appeared fine at the Gala, that in reality he was anything but. Harry had changed so much over the years she had known him, but he had never quite been able to stop putting his thoughts into his eyes. He'd become better at hiding his feelings, but not from her. She'd known him too long and too well. No, she knew he wasn't all right at all. She just didn't know why.

She walked into the lounge and handed Harry his beer. He quirked an eyebrow at her but took it. She settled herself into her favorite chair, tucking one leg beneath her. Misha, the cat Harry had gotten her for her previous birthday, jumped into her lap, purring loudly. She stroked the cat lazily, but her attention was on Harry. "Right then," she said brusquely, "Spill it."

"Malfoy's back," Harry said without preamble.

She shot out of her chair so quickly that Misha was dumped to the floor. The cat hissed and stalked off, certain to ignore Ginny for the rest of the night and, most likely, the next day as well. 'Draco Malfoy?" she hissed. Harry nodded, eyes following her as she paced in front of the fireplace. "Draco fucking Malfoy?" she shouted.

"That's not really his middle name," Harry answered drolly. "He doesn't actually have one."

She stopped and stared at him incredulously. "Bad timing, poor delivery," she said instead of asking him what his problem was, which she dearly wanted to do. They had relied on humor for as long as they had been friends to help keep tension levels low. It had become sort of a thing with them to rate one another's jokes. She sank to her knees in front of him, bringing her eyes worriedly to his. "When?" she asked.

"Hermione said they got word today."

She stared at him, considering. "Why aren't you furious?" she asked.

He didn't answer for a minute and she knew he was looking for the right words. "I think," he said quietly, "that I'm still rather numb to it."

She could see that, the numbness, in his eyes. They were completely blank. "He's been gone for so long, why come back at all?" she asked quietly, voice full of wonder.

"Why not come back? He has as much of a right to be home as anyone. He made sure of that when he got himself freed and the charges dropped." He said all of this quite reasonably, as though he was giving a lecture.

Ginny couldn't believe the conversation was going this way. It was really starting to worry her, the lack of reaction on his part. It had taken Harry well over a year to recover from the last time he had seen Draco Malfoy. She frowned; that wasn't quite true. He'd never really recovered from it. They never talked about it, but she knew it all the same. It had taken him over a year to go back to being himself - or as close to that as he could be.

After The Scandal had hit, he had become more closed off, colder in a way. Not because he was suddenly unpopular, or because he'd been revealed to the world, but because of the betrayal and hurt he had felt at the hands of Draco Malfoy. He told her once shortly after it had happened that he felt as though he'd been broken into a million pieces, and that he would never feel like they would ever fit back together the same way. What had happened had changed him as nothing else ever had. He would never again be as quick to trust. Or to love.

Though he was less inclined now to show emotion, Ginny thought this was one of those times that could be classified under "exception to the rule". If it were she, she would be frantically trying to find a way to deal with the whole mess. But it wasn't her. She had never experienced that kind of hurt. If Harry wanted to deal with it by sitting back and watching her react, that was his prerogative. She didn't have to like it, though.

When the silence between them began to feel oppressive, she said, "We'll get through this." As soon as the words escaped her, the first crack appeared. She watched the pain and uncertainty wash into his eyes and her heart broke a little upon seeing it. She pulled him to her, hugging him fiercely, and he let her. His arms went around her waist and held on as though she were the only thing keeping him from sinking back into the mire in which he'd once lived. She stroked his hair, whispering nonsense words to him and wishing she could somehow make it so that today had never happened. So that none of it had ever happened.

They sat that way for a while before he finally spoke. He didn't look at her, didn't move at all. Just his voice, small and lost. "What am I going to do, Gin?"

She didn't answer. She had no idea.

~*~

Three a.m. found Harry wide-awake and staring at the ceiling tiles. It wasn't a horrible pastime, but he would have preferred sleep. He sighed and sat up - there's only so much entertainment value in ceiling tiles, after all. He pulled his glasses on, tossed the duvet aside and padded across the room to the window. He was never going to sleep if he couldn't get control of his anger. Unfortunately, that was a tall order - it was sparking off in so many directions he wouldn't know where to take hold first.

He was unjustifiably angry with Hermione for telling him (how, exactly, was Draco's return so easily forgotten anyway?), he was angry with himself for breaking down in front of Ginny and he was angry at Draco Malfoy just for being. Why couldn't he have just stayed safely tucked away in the void Harry had always imagined he'd disappeared into?

Because that would be easy, and Merlin forbid anything ever go easily.

He looked over his shoulder at the clock. At some point, he knew, he would have to confront Draco for the first time in nearly ten years. He didn't feel up to it. He wondered briefly if it was too late to take an extended vacation, but shook the thought off. He'd faced Draco before, he could do it again. True, the last time had almost killed him, but what was life without a certain level of pain?

He'd thought he'd been free of all that for so long, but he couldn't help thinking back on that one year that had changed everything for him. He'd tried to look at everything that had happened as a blessing, hadn't he always wanted to be left alone?

Not quite so literally, a voice in his head piped up and he scowled in annoyance. Why couldn't the Annoying Voice of Truth butt in when he was feeling happy? You're happy because you have a wonderful job; it's lovely that it's not raining; hey, it's Tuesday! Anything but the intrusive tidbits of thought that acknowledged things he was trying to repress.

No, he hadn't wanted to be alone for the rest of his life. But he was living proof that you never get everything you want. If that were the case, his parents would still be alive, he never would have had to grow up so fast and his forehead wouldn't be a modern magical marvel.

He let the marvel fall to rest against the cool pane of glass. Ginny had been right, they would get through this. She had been almost as badly hurt by Draco's betrayal as he had, though she had let her anger demonstrate it, rather vocally. He hadn't been aware you could do that with a wand. You had to respect a ruthless streak like that. And be a little afraid of it.

And what makes Draco so different then? You admire ruthlessness in your friends but not the man you claim to have loved. How very hypocritical of you.

Harry growled and thumped his head against the window. Maybe the pain would make the sodding voice shut up. It was completely different, he argued, with Draco. Ginny made a show of protecting the people she loved, and if that involved a little ruthlessness it was for a good reason. Draco did it purely for self-preservation. That was cowardice in its purest form. That, he thought, was Wormtail all over again.

He made his way back to the bed, flopped back upon it and pulled a pillow over his face. He needed to stop thinking about it. Of course, the more he tried to get the whole mess out of his mind the more prominent it became. The cosmos had a warped sense of humor that way. On the bright side, the dark side of a pillow had at least as much entertainment value as the ceiling tiles. He decided he'd take what he could get.

~*~

Just down the hall, Ginny was having very much the same problem as Harry. She was worried about him. Beyond that, though, she was dealing with guilt she thought she had put behind her long before.

Harry had never placed any blame at her door, thankfully. She did enough of that herself. She had never quite been able to shake the feeling that had she just stayed out of everything, the whole mess never would have happened. If she hadn't nudged them both, quite unsubtly, they probably never would have taken that step into romance. At least, that's how she saw it. Harry had told her very bluntly that he didn't see it that way at all. He'd said that even without her pushing it would have happened. He and Draco Malfoy, he'd said, were inevitable.

She had thought so, too. In all honesty, she had been surprised it had taken the two so long to realize that all the rage they'd flung back and forth over the years hadn't really been rage at all. There had been times, watching the two sling insults back and forth in the school's hallways, that she had waited for them to throw their books aside and attack each other in a completely different way. She'd always wondered why no one else had seen what had been so heartbreakingly obvious.

She supposed that was one of the perks of being invisible to most of the school's population. She had learned to casually observe the things going on around her without being obvious about it. Even so, she would have thought that at least Hermione would have seen the truth. She rolled over, mulling over that thought while burying her face in her pillow. No, Hermione had had other things on her mind that year. Ginny was frankly amazed her friend's grades hadn't slipped. The romance between her and Ron had hit the two teenagers with the subtle energy of a pack of stampeding hippogriffs. It was no wonder Harry had come to her.

But oh, she was glad he had. She had always loved him dearly; first through the eyes of a crush-struck child and later just because he was the most true person she had ever known - conflicted and angry and emotional and easily hurt, but true. The friendship they had developed that year was one of the best things to ever happen to her.

And she had repaid his friendship and loyalty by encouraging him to take a step common sense had screamed was a mistake. She'd never been one for listening to common sense, her first year had proven that nicely, and never had she regretted it more. The Riddle Diary Incident had only hurt her, still hurt her. But the year Harry and Draco had come together, her lack of judgment had ended up getting Harry hurt. Terribly. And though Harry didn't blame her, had never blamed her, she couldn't help blaming herself, no matter how inevitable he and Draco had seemed.

She groaned into her pillow and sat up. Sleep was obviously not going to be an option any time soon. She sighed and reached for her dressing gown. As long as she was up, she may as well check on the children. She paused to grab her wand from her night table and quietly left the room.

~*~

The boys' dormitory was a cheerful little room located in the west wing of The Home. Windows that lined the far wall looked out over the grounds to the house that Ginny and Harry shared. After Harry had first purchased the building, Ginny had happily gone about it choosing which rooms would be used for what. This room, she had thought, would be perfect for the boys who would live there. Painted a deep cobalt blue, the walls were adorned with thousands of stars and planets that magically swirled and whooshed past one another endlessly. At night, the glow from them was comforting for those children who weren't quite past fear of the dark, but not so bright as to keep anyone awake. Ginny had always favored this room above all the others.

She looked fondly over the sixteen sleeping figures and smiled to herself. What would her life have ever been without them? Each one of the children in The Home had lost their parents either in the war against Voldemort or in the chaos that had followed. Though Voldemort had been destroyed, his followers had lived on and had done anything to avoid capture. The children had only known loss and pain and terror, and yet they were so full of life and love it made her heart constrict. As it did every time, she thought about how wonderful it had been of Harry to think of them at all.

That was just like him, of course, stopping everything he was doing for the benefit of others. He had quietly stepped back from the ongoing search for Death Eaters and had poured himself into this place. For a time it had been the only thing that truly made him smile, saying the children deserved a home where they were loved. They were that. She and Harry and every member of the small staff loved every child as if they were their own. When they were old enough to leave for Hogwarts, handkerchiefs were passed around freely. Yes, they were most definitely loved.

Which probably explained Harry's presence in the room. He stood quietly by a large window, staring out at the grounds and tugging at his bottom lip in thought. Ginny walked silently over to him and laid a hand gently on his shoulder. He started, but didn't make a sound. He put a finger to his lips and walked quietly toward the door and she followed.

When they were safely out of hearing distance in the corridor, she asked, "Couldn't sleep?"

He smiled wanly and shook his head. "Having the same problem, I take it?"

Her smile matched his as she said, "Pretty much."

"Fancy some warm milk? It's been a while since we've raided the kitchens," he grinned.

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "Make mine chocolate and you have a deal."

"I think I can manage that."

They walked in silence to the first floor and through the empty dining hall, through a heavy, wooden swinging door into the kitchens. Ginny hopped up onto a table while Harry went about preparing their drinks. When he handed her a large mug of chocolate, she smiled and blew lazily at the steam. He leaned against a counter opposite her and held his own mug between his two hands, as though it provided some sort of security.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he said, eyes fixed on his mug.

Ginny blinked. "Sorry? For what?"

Quietly: "I must have appeared an absolute wreck."

"Understandable given the circumstances, don't you think?"

"It's been a long time, Gin, it shouldn't have bothered me at all."

She grinned. "Bothered? Over it, are we?" He finally looked at her and smiled humorlessly. "I thought not." She set her mug aside and looked at him seriously. "Harry, no matter what face you show the world, I know that what Malfoy did wounded you more than anything you've ever been through. Time heals wounds like that, to a certain degree, but things like this are prone to rip them open. It doesn't make you sentimental or weak."

Harry didn't bother contradicting her, which would have been a wasted endeavor, as she knew she was spot-on in her assessment of his feelings. Instead, he leaned his head back against a cupboard and closed his eyes, sighing heavily. "Doesn't it? He shouldn't have any power over me anymore."

"Maybe not, in a perfect world. In a perfect world, you would have been able to shut off everything you've felt and never visited those feelings again. But we both know we don't get that luxury."

He nodded almost imperceptibly. "I'm going to have to face him eventually."

Ginny jumped down from the counter and took the few steps over to him, taking the mug from his hands and setting it aside before taking them in her own. She looked up at him with concern. "You don't have to. You rarely leave the grounds, who's to say you ever have to see him?"

He met her eyes with his own and chuckled dryly. "Malfoy and I have made a habit of running into one another for most of our lives."

"Excepting the last ten years, of course," she pointed out. "Maybe he doesn't want to see you any more than you want to see him."

Something indefinable passed across her friend's features, a strange mixture of sorrow and pain and regret and...something else. "Don't I? After everything that's happened, Gin, I can't help the small part of me that is screaming to go find him. To see him again. To ...." He broke off.

"Ask him why," she finished and he nodded, closing his eyes again and resting his forehead against hers. She raised a hand to his cheek, running her fingers along it. He placed his own over it and smiled.

"Merlin help me, I want to run into him again. Just, not yet. I'm not ready to see him. I don't think another ten years would make me ready for that."

"What will you do then?" she asked quietly.

"Nothing. I can't help feeling that if he's really back, something will happen to throw us together. It always has. The world is strangely predictable that way," he chuckled again.

She stood back and nodded. "Yes, it is, isn't it?"

He nodded. "No amount of self torture, on either of our parts," he added and she flushed at being found out, as unsurprising as it was, "will change that."

She sighed. "No, I suppose not."

"Then shall we get some sleep?" he asked. "I hear the girls stockpiled a mountain of sweets in their room earlier, and Emma on a sugar high is draining at the very least."

She laughed and followed him from the room. "Yes, well, if you hadn't helped them get out of the dining hall undetected it wouldn't be a problem, would it?"

Harry's answering laughter led the way back to the house.