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Chapter Text

Early July 2017-

Hermione Granger-Weasley made her way along the slick stone path, wrapping her warm cloak more firmly around her slender shoulders. She was alone, it was no secret that most of her in-laws would heartily disapprove of her destination. When she had casually mentioned her trip to her husband Ron the evening previous, he had given her a blank stare and continued to speak about the latest project in the Auror Department. He was not so foolish to try and stop her, he had learned that much at least after 17 years of marriage.

This trip was more of an impulse than anything, inspired by her 9 year old son Hugo asking about the black-haired man in a picture in her office. Where did things go wrong, that my children don't know you? She slipped on one of the smooth rocks and her foot momentarily hit water, jerking her out of her despairing thoughts. 'Clumsy Hermione,' an achingly familiar voice teased in her head, 'more comfortable with half the library on your shoulders than heels on your feet!'

For a moment she smiled and laughed softly, before shivering again and moving forward through the icy pelting rain that seemed to constantly cover Azkaban prison. The Dementors were long gone, banished back to their original plane of existence but the prison was still a miserable triangle-shaped hell on earth. Still, she was relieved to reach the massive stone overhang and get out of the wind and rain.

She stared at the moss-covered black walls, resisting a shudder. Even the dozen enormous torches in their high wall sconces couldn't banish all the shadows and darkness creeping from the prison. The last time Hermione had been here it was early July of the previous year, she'd just watched Teddy Lupin graduate from Hogwarts at the top of his class a few days before. Remus was no doubt bursting with pride over his Ravenclaw son, wherever he was now.

Gathering her courage Hermione strode into the prison, walking up to the warden's desk. The warden was a man with the ruddy features of one who enjoyed his hard drink and was nearly wider than he was tall, the little hair he had left (mostly in bushy eyebrows and a bristly moustache) was a nondescript brown in colour, streaked with grey.

"I am here to see Harry Potter," she said clearly when he looked at her.

Irritably he stood and made his way back to a counter, sorting through a massive pile of parchment, some yellowed with age. "Name?" he barked.

"Hermione Granger-Weasley," she replied coolly, eyes narrowing at his tone. She had always thought those who worked at the prison were an unpleasant lot, but this man was worse than the old warden and that was saying something.

He grabbed out two pieces of parchment and plunked one in front of her as he said brusquely, "Sign and date it where it says 'Visitation Date'."

She reached for the quill and looked down, noting that aside from a 'Luna Scamander' and 'George Weasley' hers was the only name in the list of former visits. George hadn't visited since Roxanne was born and Luna had visited twice in the last 14 years, the last had been 4 years ago. She signed and dated where indicated and before giving it back looked up to the top, where bold, black impersonal letters printed: Inmate Information.

Name: Harry James Potter. Birth date: 7/31/1980. Hair: Black. Eyes: Green. Wand: Snapped at trial. Sentencing: Three life sentences. Trial date: 5/21/2003. Convicted of: Murder, 3 Counts. The quick, efficient way of cataloguing rendered her childhood friend in such an austere way. It couldn't convey through parchment his quick, dry sense of humour or his love of flying. Nor could it convey the peace and fulfillment that working in the Auror Department had given him.

Once the paperwork was done she surrendered her wand and personal affects aside from a few photographs she managed to convince the guards were harmless. But really, what did they think he was going to do, make his way out of a wizarding prison by giving the guards paper cuts? Harry may have done some crazy things over the years, but he wasn't that crazy.

He was crazy enough to break into Gringotts and break us OUT on a dragon, she reminded herself with a small laugh. That was even more insane than arriving for school by flying car, which was still apparently a talked-about event at Hogwarts. It took about 15 minutes before she was ushered through a door into a small meeting room with a few stern reminders about the rules in the prison, which included a no-contact rule. This meant everything from a kiss on the cheek in greeting to hugs or holding hands.

Once inside the room she stared at Harry for a long moment, feeling her heart ache in sympathy, compassion and pity. She hid the last quite well, knowing that Harry hated pity above anything else in the world. Hatred, loathing, being purely ignored he could handle, but pity made him coldly bitter. Since he hadn't seen her yet, she could allow herself the emotion for a few minutes more. It would be hard not to pity Harry at this time.

He was so thin, his face sharp and angular due to lack of proper weight and nutrition. The formerly glossy hair fell limp and flat under the harsh lighting and fell to his waist in impossible tangles and snarls. The originally black prison outfit was a dark grey from age and wear and he was barefoot. Harry's skin was so pale it was almost transparent; she could see the veins in his hands. All colour appeared to have faded from his face aside from the dull evergreen eyes, surprisingly dark lips and dark, heavy shadows under his eyes. He was sitting on a cold metal chair with his feet chained to the floor and his wrists chained together with a mere few inches in-between.

However, the chains were unnecessary and only proved how much even the guards of Azkaban prison respected and feared Harry Potter still. Hermione stared at the heavy silver bracelets around his wrists which had rubbed the skin around them raw over the years. They had the Ministry logo imprinted on the top over the flat, round gold seal and flashed faintly with runes in flickering of the torches.

Those were 'restraining bracelets' and their ornamental appearance covered a barbaric purpose. A witch or wizard's magic normally was free to 'explore' around their body, covering a space of about a half-foot in any direction. This was called the magical aura. One of the explanations for Squibs was that when they were born their body sought to control the magic instead of releasing it around their body as normal and such they couldn't use it themselves, even if they could feel it. A 'restraining bracelet' did the exact same thing to a normal wizard, confining their magic to their body. Normally only one was necessary but the Ministry had authorised two in Harry's case due to his magical power, which a great deal of them feared even though Harry wasn't the type to abuse his strength.

"Harry," she spoke softly, attempting to not startle the man.

He looked up and appeared surprised to see her standing there. They stared at each other for a few long moments before he spoke in a harsh, rasping voice, "Hermione."

She smiled sadly at him and moved to a chair, bolted to the floor like his. This one was far enough from his that she could sit sideways on it, facing him. Once she had done so Hermione pulled the pictures from her pocket. It was unspoken routine that she wouldn't try and ask about him, life passed by in a dull, familiar routine day by day for him. She knew he was trying to spare her the details about how awful it was to be in here, but she could see it just by looking at her friend.

"Teddy just graduated from the initial Auror program," she said instead, making him give a small but genuine half-smile. "He's been assigned to Hannah for mentoring. Victoire is graduating this next spring; I know he's thinking about proposing."

He chuckled and she nearly winced at how rough the sound was. "Quicker about it than his father, isn't he?"

She laughed and nodded. "That's what Andromeda said as well. She's not doing too well Harry; I doubt she'll last much longer."

Harry sighed softly and said, "She was holding on for Teddy, making sure he could stand on his own."

"That's what I thought as well," Hermione replied quietly.

She handed him a picture of Rose and Hugo and said "This is the most recent picture I have of my two, Rose is going to Hogwarts this fall and she's very excited. Hugo is quite jealous; he won't be going for another three years."

Harry's lips quirked at the mentioning of her son. When she'd visited soon after his birth and showed Harry a picture of her baby boy he said, "Hugo, as in Victor Hugo? Clever Hermione, very clever."

"Draco's son is attending this year as well, isn't he? Scorpius, right?"

"Yes and yes," Hermione replied with a small laugh. "Scorpius Hyperion, a miniature aristocrat in the making. Rose met him a few years ago and they're on their way to becoming best friends if not more."

Harry grinned. "That would give Draco a heart-attack, not to mention Ron." The smile fell of his face as quickly as it appeared at the name of her husband. He closed his eyes and breathed rhythmically for a few minutes before opening them again.

Their conversation had nearly come to an end when Harry was overcome with a coughing fit. He waved her away before she could touch him and said in a hoarse voice, "Its fine Hermione. I get minor colds all the time in here. It's not the most sanitary of places, you know."

She started to laugh and abruptly stopped. Wide brown eyes were focused on Harry's hand that he had just lowered from his mouth, specifically to a small smear of red on his skin. Ignoring the guards and their rules she stood and touched first his hand and then his lips with a separate finger.

Her fingertip came away red and her eyes widened. "Blood," she whispered shakily, "you're coughing up blood Harry."

"Is that what that red stuff is?" he asked with a hint of sarcasm. "Hermione, please don't worry. I'm fine, I promise."

Hermione stared severely at her friend for a moment and nodded. Both knew the nod was simply to appease him, but Harry was in no shape or condition to get into a verbal argument with her. Also, by this point he simply didn't care.

She said goodbye to her friend and remained as the guards came and curtly undid the chains around his ankles, roughly grabbing him by an elbow and leading him back into the pitch interior of Azkaban prison. Hermione shivered again, however this time it wasn't from the cold.

Same Day, Malfoy Manor-

A few hundred miles but a mere two Apparition points from Azkaban prison Draco Lucius Malfoy, Lord and Patriarch of the House of Malfoy sat in his family room. He stared through secretly amused eyes at his son, who was waiting for an answer to his latest question and desperately attempting to appear as though he didn't care about the answer. He was doing fairly well if not for the fact he was about to dig a hole into the floor with the toe of his foot.

He took another lazy sip of his tea and set the cup down. He carefully poured another cup and added a squeeze of lemon and a cube of sugar, picking up the dainty silver spoon and stirring as carefully as he would have a volatile potion. Finally he decided to put his son out of his misery, if only so Astoria wouldn't yell about a hole in the expensive Persian rug under their feet.

"If and only if you do well in your test with your tutors we can go out for some flying time after dinner. And by well Scorpius," he added, drawing his suddenly happy and slightly hyper son's attention, "I mean at least Exceeds Expectations grade. After all, it's only History and Potions."

"Yes Father," Scorpius breathed, with every evidence of sincerity and earnestness in his young face.

Draco flicked one hand negligently and said, "Off with you."

Scorpius turned around and managed to walk all the way out of the family room before Draco heard him break into a quick jog. He smiled indulgently and restrained a laugh, wondering if it had been the same for his father all those years ago.

A small 'pop' alerted him to the arrival of a house elf. He turned his head slightly and said imperiously, "Yes?"

"Hermione Weasley wishes to speak with you, Master," the female squeaked out.

A single pale eyebrow arched and Draco thought about it for only a moment before replying, "Show her in here."

After the house elf disappeared he allowed himself a sour smile as he thought about why he was getting along with a muggleborn witch, let alone this particular muggleborn.

He stood and walked forward until he stood just a few feet from the fire, staring into its depths with intense, contemplative grey eyes. It all began, ended and encircled the wizard named Harry Potter. Aside from Hermione Weasley he was probably the only person to truly know the man behind the camera flashes and Daily Prophet headlines. Had someone told him this back when he was in school he would have laughed and scornfully asked if they'd had their head checked recently?

After the war Draco had been lost, attempting to push his way through a post-war life without any idea of how to live in peace. One particular event reverberated in his memory, that of Harry Potter turning around in the Room of Requirement and coming back for him despite the Fiendfyre. So he had sought out the One-Who-Defeated, as the papers had started calling him, wanting an explanation and finding himself genuinely curious about the answer.

After a bit of searching he'd finally located the elusive wizard at Grimmauld Place, the Black family home. He knew Potter had received it from the late Sirius Orion, the Lord of the pureblood house despite his estrangement from the family in his teens. He would remember his question and the startling answer until the day he died.

"Why did you save me, back at Hogwarts? You could have been killed by the Fiendfyre as well, like Vincent."

"Was that Crabbe's first name? I never did learn it, you know. And as for why I saved you, would you rather I hadn't?"

"No, I'm just trying to understand. After all, I did nothing to make you like me in school and everything to make you hate me."

"Even if I did hate you Malfoy, which I don't by the way, who am I to decide who lives and dies? In my opinion everyone deserved a chance then, aside from Voldemort, Bellatrix & Greyback."

It had been a far less arrogant and more surprising answer than he'd expected. It had been to his further surprise when later that year Potter had pushed for (and received), a post-mortem Order of Merlin, First Class and a Headmaster's portrait at Hogwarts for his godfather Severus Snape. To the resulting inquiry Potter's only response had been, "He deserved it and call me Harry would you? I've had enough of surnames to last a lifetime."

One particularly explosive conversation between Harry and the Weasel had revealed another startling fact. Weasel had been pushing Harry to resume his relationship with his sister Ginerva, adding that she 'wouldn't wait forever'. Harry had lost his temper and told Weasel she could 'go right ahead since I don't like girls anyway.'

Draco had caught up with Harry later that evening, well on his way through a dozen shots of firewhiskey. He'd drunk just enough to relax a little and when Draco had mentioned the accidentally eavesdropped conversation he'd snorted and replied, "Sure it was an accident, Draco?"

With just a little bit of persuading a surprising and shocking tale had unwoven. Really, who would have thought a barely 15-year-old Harry would fall into an apparently committed relationship with his own ex-convict godfather, who was 35 at the time? "That summer after his death was hell, Draco. He was my world and I led him to his death through my own foolishness. Dumbledore all but admitted that himself later."

About three months after that the pair were both in that same bar and had been drinking just enough to relax their own inhibitions. Draco still wasn't sure who had initiated that kiss, but he knew full well that he had been the one to take advantage of the situation. Waking up the next morning in bed with the raven-haired wizard had been pleasant and surprisingly soothing.

After the initial awkwardness that came from waking up next to a person one used to heartily dislike they had begun a casual relationship. It was only when his mother had Floo-called from France (where she and his father had moved to avoid coming under the critical eye of a new Ministry) and asked about his personal life that Draco realised, somewhat to his surprise, that somewhere along the line it had changed from casual to committed. Life with Harry was far quieter than Draco had expected after all the latter's exploits, but as Harry had explained, he'd had enough of those exploits to last seven lifetimes.

Their relationship had been exposed to others after a chance meeting and a simple kiss in a private section of Diagon Alley had been noticed by a loud, fuming Ronald Weasley and his indignant, teary-eyed sister. Harry had nearly come to blows with his friend and had dealt him a severe blow to his ego by openly turning his back on the pair and leaving Diagon Alley with Draco.

When the bushy-haired girl who had been a menace to his school years showed up later that evening Draco had been displeased, to put it mildly. At first she had acted as hot-headed as her then-fiancée before finally calming and listening to Harry with the rational, educated mind that Draco had always privately envied. It turned out Granger had already known about Harry and Sirius, having chanced upon the pair sharing a private kiss before departing for the beginning of their 5th year.

She had studied him with her caramel-brown eyes before finally saying, "If Harry trusts you than so do I. I can't say anything for Ronald or the Weasleys, but if you hurt him I'll make that slap look like child's play." The reminder of what had been his most embarrassing moment in 3rd year had almost been sufficient to make Draco blush.

And then that day had arrived. Three years had passed in comfortable routine before a married Ginerva Weasley-Thomas and her husband had been brutally murdered, along with their month-old son. Draco and Harry had read about it in the papers and Harry had been upset about it, Dean Thomas had been a dorm-mate of his in Hogwarts and Ginerva, for all her vain self-importance was the sister of a man he still considered a friend.

The appearance of three Aurors in his home had been enough of a surprise for Draco, but the major shock had come when they had pulled a warrant for Harry's arrest. Just a look at Harry showed his shock, he had blanched to the colour of bone and seemed unable to believe what he was hearing. Still, he handed over his wand calmly enough and left peacefully with the Aurors, showing just by his actions that he wasn't the one they wanted.

Draco had visited Harry in the Ministry of Magic on May 20th, 2003. The beginning of his trial was set for the next morning. Harry had been extremely pale, but calm enough to speak rationally. However, his words haunted Draco to this day.

"Draco, I fear that this is going to go badly. It's just like when we were in Hogwarts, when it was popular to hate me everyone took part in it with relish. If for some reason I'm right and I have never hoped so badly that I'm wrong, don't linger okay? Keep going with your life, marry that girl your mother has been pestering you to meet, have your family. If, Merlin forbid, they put me in Azkaban, don't come, please. I don't want you to come anywhere near that place, even for me."

Harry had been adamant and despite any argument Draco made he wouldn't vary his wish in any manner. The next morning Draco had dressed with shaking hands and proceeded to the Ministry of Magic, where the Minister had chosen to not give Harry Veritaserum. The backing for that had been his strength of will and the fact that no Imperio could hold him. He had been pronounced unanimously guilty on circumstantial evidence despite the fact Draco had told the Ministry he'd been nowhere near Ginerva Thomas at the time of her death. Their fear of Harry's strength and abilities had caused them to slap not one but two restraining bracelets on his wrists and he was given 3 life sentences in Azkaban prison in a black cell.

Draco had obeyed Harry's wishes, even with a strong desire to break one of them and go see the wizard. He'd married Astoria Greengrass and had his son, his precious Scorpius Hyperion, who reminded him a great deal of himself at that age. Scorpius' surprise friendship with Weasel and Granger's daughter Rose meant he saw a great deal of the witch over the past few years and every once in a while she'd quietly mention Harry after she'd been to visit him.

Draco was drawn out of his musings of the past when he heard footsteps behind him. Turning he saw Hermione Weasley, wearing a black cloak that was nearly soaked through over a neat, elegant woman's suit and skirt. Her professional attire was marred by a slightly worried frown. Shaking herself out of obviously tumultuous thoughts she said, "Good afternoon, Draco. How goes things since I saw you last?"

"Much the same," he drawled in his smooth voice. "You as well? Is Rose as excited as Scorpius about finally going to Hogwarts?"

Her lips twitched into a smile and she said, "Seeing as I'm not around your son every day, I can't tell you, but Rose is delighted and in her opinion this spring and summer can't pass by quickly enough, which is a change."

Her face fell for a moment and she finally spoke quite frankly. "I've just returned from Azkaban prison, I went to see Harry. I'm worried about him, Draco and I was wondering if your family library had anything about the restraining bracelets, possibly their effect on a wizard's body? He's quite ill and I have a feeling it's more than the common colds he's trying to pass it off as."

Draco's mouth thinned in concern and he thought for a long moment. "I can't think of anything offhand, but my family's library is quite large and I know there are parts of it I haven't explored yet. An indexing spell may help us."

"Us?" she replied, surprised.

He looked up into her brown eyes and said quietly, "It is only by Harry's wish that I haven't visited him and didn't wait for him all this time, Hermione. Besides," he added briskly, attempting to shake off the vulnerable moment, "you will need the help as some of the books are limited access to members of my family only."

She gave him a sharp look followed by a slight smile as she obviously found what she was searching for in his expression. "All right then," she replied. "Lead the way, Draco."

They set off down the cavernous halls as Draco mentally tried to shake the foreboding atmosphere that seemed to be settling around his shoulders.

Ministry of Magic (1 Week Later)-

Directly above the round benches in Courtroom Nine of the Ministry was, to any witch or wizard, a magnificent marble façade depicting moments in the history of Magical Britain and several enormous crystal chandeliers. Other than that, it was an empty space. To the living, in any case.

At the moment the courtroom was beginning to hum louder and louder with the murmurs of gathering occupants. The scene unfolding above would have been enough to send them into fits of laughter, if only they could see it. For without any visible means of transport several transparent figures were dropped into the air, though they appeared to be substantial to each other, if the groans from the pair on the bottom were any indicator.

"Get off of me, you imbeciles!" A transparent Severus Snape snapped impatiently, prompting muffled laughter from an equally gauzy Remus Lupin, the other being unfortunate enough to appear first.

To muffled laughter the group managed to sort themselves out; revealing James Potter, Lily Evans and Sirius Black along with the two now drawing themselves off an invisible floor with a few groans and grumbles. Lily Evans watched the pair with dancing eyes and couldn't resist the opportunity to tease her uptight friend. "Such vocabulary Sev, even when you're being flattened under the rest of us!"

The glare he gave her inevitably softened until he had to look away with a slight grumble. Lily snuck her arm through one of his and tugged a laughing James over with her. The two males shared an exasperated look over the shorted woman's transparent hair (which to them was its normal fiery red) before also sharing a soft laugh.

Sirius Black ambled over and sat down at their feet, dangling his legs over a ledge only they could see. He was joined by an amused Remus Lupin, who was by now used to the antics of the trio behind them. It had taken a while to get there however; Severus had been much his usual prickly self when he'd first died.

"Figured out where we are yet Padfoot?" he asked Sirius conversationally. This had happened on a few previous occasions, they had been dumped randomly throughout the magical world, usually near someone they all knew or for important events. The last had been Teddy's graduation and Hermione's overheard comment had been entirely right, Remus and Tonks (who had been present for that occasion), had been enormously proud of their son.

Sirius grimaced slightly and said, "Yuppers. We're in Courtroom Nine of the Ministry of Magic. This is a place I could have done without seeing again. It's something big too, seems like the whole Wizengamot is present."

That drew the attention of the trio and after a long survey James piped in with a, "You're right, Sirius. That's the whole Wizengamot. It looks like some sort of trial and—isn't that the Weasleys?" he asked, suddenly distracted.

The rest looked over in the indicated direction where, about 200 yards below them sat a group of red-heads. Severus groaned at the large amount and said, "I had hoped they wouldn't expand over the years but they seem to have exploded instead." He promptly hissed when Lily elbowed him in the ribcage for the slightly rude comment.

"Where's Hermione?" Remus asked, looking for the head of bushy brown hair. They knew Ron and Hermione had married, so it would seem logical that she would be sitting with her in-laws.

Severus looked around with his sharp black eyes and after a long second look said with a tone of disbelief, "She's sitting over next to my Godson."

Sirius immediately found the white-blonde hair that signified a Malfoy and sure enough, there was Hermione sitting next to his second-cousin, Draco. She was dressed in a professional looking blouse and slacks, he in the usual impressive pureblood attire in slate-grey. The years seemed to have been gentle on them both, Hermione especially appeared to have barely aged since he had seen her last. Draco's hairline had receded just slightly, to his amusement.

Before he could comment on it to the others the current Minister appeared and made their way up to the large podium, sitting in the comfortable chair before giving a couple of loud raps with the gavel. "Silence!"

The assembly slowly headed his word and took their seats, most with grave, quiet expressions on their faces. After a long moment of silence the Minister continued.

"Thank you. Now, I know some of you, if not all, have heard a form of rumor about the reason for our gathering today. I will take this moment to tell you the reason for this meeting is a request of appeal to the Wizengamot on the behalf of one of the current prisoners of Azkaban."

This appeared to have been the majority rumor, for a series of hissing whispers broke out.

"I wonder what poor soul got stuck in there this time," James commented. "Also if they're appealing themselves or another on their behalf. If it's someone else, then the prisoner involved has got to be confused. If they kept the usual routine from before, they haul the prisoner involved out of Azkaban and put them in a Ministry holding cell for each appeal, without telling them why they're pulled out of the cells."

Sirius snorted. "Poor sucker. I know they got rid of the Dementors, but Azkaban's miserable enough without the creatures."

He blatantly ignored the sympathetic glances from the others (excluding Severus, who knew he hated sympathy or pity). It had taken some time even after his death for his magic and health to be fully restored after his stay in the prison, unlike most thought you weren't automatically healed when you died.

"If you heard this specific rumor, then you also know the prisoner involved, who was given three life sentences 14 years ago for the murders of Dean Thomas, his wife Ginerva Weasley-Thomas and their month-old son Conrad."

Lily winced. "Oh, that has to be tough on Molly. Her only daughter was murdered along with her month-old grandson?"

"Speaking on behalf of the prisoner involved is Hermione Granger-Weasley, an Arguer for the courts and wife of Ronald Weasley, the departed Ginerva Weasley's brother."

Sirius looked over at Ron and winced. "Look at Ron's expression. He's not at all happy with Hermione at the moment."

Ron's gaze was as hard as ice and deep-seated hatred darkened the blue eyes and left something not-quite-human about him. Hermione meanwhile had been making her way down the stairs to stand directly in front of the chair, careful to meet the eye of every member of the Wizengamot as she did so.

Remus snorted and said, "An Arguer is the perfect career for her, she's a formidable presence and probably knows the law books better than the wizards that originally wrote them."

James laughed and said, "Sort of like our Lily, then?" He gave a slight yelp as the comment earned him an elbow in the side, same as Severus had a moment ago. Severus gave the other wizard a slight smirk which quickly slid off his face when Lily turned her fiery green stare on him.

Snorting at just how well Lily had the pair under control Sirius said, "I wonder who this prisoner is to get Hermione on his side?"

Hermione opened her mouth and began to speak. "14 years ago, the magical community here in Britain was shocked by the brutal murder of the Weasley-Thomas family. Ginerva Weasley-Thomas was my sister-in-law and a well-respected young woman. She was fairly popular amongst witches and wizards as well for her celebrated career as a Chaser for the Harpies."

"However, the actions of the body assembled before me today shocked me more than the crime itself. We had been encouraging the Ministry to exercise its new strength and crack down on the criminals of the magical world, but not at the expense of justice. We have placed another in Azkaban without Veritaserum. Did we not learn our lesson with the massive mistrial of Sirius Black after the first Voldemort War?"

Sirius groaned in exasperation. "They did that again? Like she said, when are they going to learn?"

"The only evidence against the wizard convicted was circumstantial at best and at worst outright false, yet due to your fear of his magical strength and strength of will you decided he could possibly lie under the Truth Serum. Then you placed him in Azkaban after a single session with not one but two restraining bracelets despite evidence that magical strength doesn't influence the bracelet's ability to block a wizard's aura!"

Severus blinked and said indignantly, "First of all, no one can break my Truth Serum; it doesn't matter if you can resist Imperio. Secondly, are these people idiots? One restraining bracelet is plenty, even if it was necessary."

"Now I am here to tell you that this body has done him a grave disservice. My appeal is for you to finally give him the serum you denied him at his original trial and release him. It doesn't matter whether or not he truly is guilty, of which I will never believe until I hear it from his lips."

There was a massive uproar at this point and Molly Weasley in particular looked furious at her daughter-in-law's comments. Ron's eyes had narrowed throughout her little speech and at this point resembled little more than slivers of dark blue.

"QUIET!" the Minister was finally forced to use a Sonorous to get things back under control. Once people were again seated and silent he turned to Hermione and said curtly, "Explain."

"A bit of background first, Minister. Restraining bracelets were created by the original Ministry of Magic, back before Azkaban prison was built and prisoners were held throughout the year here in Headquarters themselves. They force a wizard's aura to remain inside their body, instead of releasing it as normally happens for a magical child at birth. One is quite sufficient for this purpose, no matter a person's magical strength. In the book Auras & Ability it is plainly stated that prolonged use of restraining bracelets can be damaging to a wizard's health. They were never meant for long-term use."

Her voice had begun to quaver slightly. Hermione closed her eyes and they could see her taking in a few deep breaths. "Whomever this is they mean a great deal to Hermione," Remus commented.

"The one for whom I am appealing has had two restraining bracelets on his wrists for the last 14 years. In that time his magical aura has been restricted to his body only and in this case, his magical strength does go against him. That much power is not meant to be held in. After approximately 10 years his magic turned inward, 'devouring' in a sense his physical reserves to feed and expend some of the pent-up energy. Even if you removed the bracelets today, the damage has already been done. His magic has been restrained for too long and has turned on him. I visited him a week ago, Minister and he was coughing up blood. His magic is killing him. He will not last until the beginning of the new Hogwarts term, let alone the rest of his sentences. Since he is already dying, the least this body can do is bring him in for questioning and when he is proven innocent, let him die in peace and fresh air rather than that dark, lonely cell."

At the end of that long speech the quiet observers were shocked. Finally James spoke. "Not only is he probably innocent, but due to their actions he's terminally ill? You're right Sev, these people are idiots!"

Severus frowned and grumbled, "I hate being right sometimes, almost as much as I hate that bloody nickname you and Lily use!"

The Minister sat there for a long moment and just before he spoke a smooth voice interrupted. "Minister, if I may speak?"

It was Draco Malfoy, who had sat forward just enough to be totally cast in the light of the chandeliers, grey eyes glittering. Sirius opened his mouth to make a smart remark about the appeal being doomed when he noticed Ron's furious expression darkening even more at the blonde's presence.

Instead he said, "It seems for once Hermione and Draco are both on the same side. Did you lot notice George Weasley is missing as well?"

They looked around, eyes widening in surprise when they noticed the absent twin. "That's weird, I would have thought he'd be here when his sister's supposed murderer is being brought in for an appeal," Lily commented.

Sirius' eyes were caught by a bright electric blue and he noted the figure in the robes of an Auror with glee. "Looks like Teddy went through the Auror program!"

The others snapped around to look at Teddy, who was now standing by a doorway that led to the holding cells. He looked quite somber and impressive in the deep bronze robes of an Auror yet the glittering amber eyes were clearly anxious.

"He seems to know the prisoner involved as well," Remus commented, smiling proudly at his son.

Draco began to speak, drawing their attention back to the court proper. He was choosing his words with obvious care, keeping the nonchalant drawling tone to a minimum. "When the Ministry came to my Manor 14 years ago to arrest this prisoner, they sent 3 senior Aurors and a warrant. Despite the fact the Aurors obviously believed him guilty, he left without protest or any form of a fight. Does this seem the actions of a guilty man to you? I am hoping that this body wasn't listening too closely to Auror Weasley at this time. Not only was he personally involved in the case; he harbors a deep prejudice and discriminatory hatred toward the convicted for his sexual preferences. To speak plainly, the fact that the convicted is gay proved a rift in their friendship that couldn't be mended. If you were listening to a man so clearly biased, I would hope that you would want to fix your mistake before it is too late."

"Finally you learn subtlety, Draco," Severus muttered. "Now if only you could have learned that while in school, you wouldn't have given me such a headache."

Remus laughed slightly and said, "He's given us several clues. First of all, the prisoner is a man; secondly he's someone Draco knows well since he was residing at Malfoy Manor. Third he was a friend of Ron's until Ron found out about his homosexuality, which is highly prejudiced of Ron as Draco's said."

The Minister had frowned when Draco completed his speech and after several long moments he said to Teddy and another Auror they didn't know, "Bring him in. The Wizengamot is hereby officially opening the appeal case of the murders of Dean Thomas, Ginerva Thomas and their son. Convicted of the case 14 years ago is one 37-year-old Harry James Potter."

There was dead silence amongst the spectators as total shock hit before Sirius finally rasped, "What?"

Remus was likewise in shock and he said shakily, "They actually thought Harry capable of murder? Merlin, even if he's proven innocent they've ruined his life and practically killed him in the process!"

The trio behind them was still silent, though Lily was beginning to audibly hiss in fury. Remus winced, sensing an impending explosion of her temper.

The Wizengamot waited quietly, whispering amongst each other. The only ones completely silent were Draco and Hermione, who both were pale yet obviously determined. Suddenly James piped up with, "Am I the only one who's getting the impression Draco and Harry were more than friends at one point?"

Sirius frowned thoughtfully, considering James' words and Draco's speech. He privately hoped that was the case for his young love. After his unexpected death in the Ministry he had hoped with all his might Harry would keep going and live his life as well as he could. It didn't mean he wasn't aching in sadness for leaving his life behind when finally something had been going right, but he wanted Harry to be happy above all else.

His eyes darkened. The Ministry had to stick their noses in somewhere. Talk about gratitude huh? Harry had finally gotten rid of Voldemort, whom everyone else was too frightened of to take action and this was how they repaid him? Throwing him in prison without a backward glance a mere 5 years later? He snorted and thought, damn fools, all of them.

He was interrupted from his bitter thoughts by a soft sob from Lily. Looking to the doorway where Teddy had reappeared he almost did the same thing. From what he could see Harry looked worse than he had after 12 years with the Dementors still around. He was so shaky he could hardly walk and leaned heavily on Teddy's shoulder by the time he reached the solid metal chair. The moment he sat down the chains wrapped tightly around his shoulders, wrists and waist despite the presence of the glinting restraining bracelets on his thin wrists.

Despite his obvious confusion he remained quite calm, not meeting the gazes of anyone but the Minister of Magic, whose gaze he held without blinking or flinching. Draco Malfoy, Sirius noted, had paled drastically at Harry's appearance, which struck him as odd. Unless, and here he frowned, Draco hadn't seen Harry since his conviction.

"Do you know why you are here?" The Minister asked imperiously.

"No," Harry rasped out, "unless you finally decided to act like a governing body rather than a pack of fools."

James choked on his laughter behind Sirius and said, "Probably not the best time to antagonise them, Harry!"

The Minister stared down at him, ignoring the frowns and mutters from the Wizengamot. "It has come to our attention that not only may you be innocent of the crimes you were convicted of, but the restraining bracelets have resulted in a terminal illness."

Lily regained her voice. "Oh way to go, idiot! He said he had no idea and so you tell him he's going to die in front of a bunch of people who think him guilty anyway!"

Harry straightened up and stared the Minister in the face. "So you're trying to fix your mistake before I become yet another black mark in the history of the Ministry? How typical, you only admit your mistake when it's shoved in your face that you were wrong in the first place."

Remus groaned next to Sirius and said, "No matter what you say Lily, he get's that smart mouth from you, but it's definitely James' bad timing!"

"Hey!" the pair said in unison. Severus smirked but said nothing, though it was obvious he agreed with Remus.

"Will you submit to a questioning under Veritaserum?" the Minister asked curtly, once again ignoring the rising mutters and angry stares from the Wizengamot and most of the spectators.

Harry stared at him defiantly for a long moment and finally said, "Yes."

At the appearance of a red-headed man near the base of the courtroom stairs Sirius hissed in displeasure. "Looks like Prefect Percy still works for the Ministry."

James scowled behind his friend and said, "That's the one who turned his back on his family and told Ron to stop hanging out with my son because he was 'touched in the head' or something to that affect?"

"Yes," Sirius replied, still giving Percy a dagger-like glare. At the moment he was deeply wishing he wasn't a fragment of his former body so he could scare the crap out of that stupid idiot. His fingers had curled into fists and his lip had begun to curl in a snarl.

"You are nearly growling, Padfoot," Remus said mildly. "It's not going to do any good."

Sirius grumbled and growled under his breath as Percy approached Harry with a vial of the truth serum. He made sure to stop far enough away that he wasn't even brushing against Harry, who was watching him with narrowed green eyes.

Three drops later and the glassy-eyed look of one underneath the effect of Veritaserum settled on Harry's face. The Minister nodded curtly to a man on his left who began questioning him.

"Your name?"

"Harry James Potter."

"House at Hogwarts?"

"Gryffindor."

"Patronus form?"

"Last time I owned a wand it was a stag, it could be a cat for all I know now."

Remus burst out laughing this time. "People tend to forget how the truth serum works. It only compels them to tell the truth, it doesn't force it from them. You have to love Harry's sarcasm by the way. He's not being nice about this."

Harry's reply got a few snickers around the courtroom and the questioner looked highly displeased.

"Were you the one that killed the Thomas family?"

"No," shocked whispers followed this answer.

"Did you have anything to do with the murders?"

"No."

"Do you know who was the killer?"

"No."

"When was the last time you spoke with a member of the Thomas family?"

"Ginerva cornered me in Gringotts and made a poor attempt to seduce me. It wouldn't have worked in any case, but she was rather adamant that I was 'faking' my sexuality."

Sirius snorted. "Take that, Molly. The Wizengamot as well, for that matter."

The questioner administered the antidote as the members of the Wizengamot sat in stunned silence; a few had tears running down their faces. Harry stared at them all with thinly-veiled contempt, green eyes narrow and flinty.

"A-" the Minister stopped and cleared his throat, beginning again once he'd gotten rid of the raspy whisper of shock. "A show of hands for not guilty?"

Every single hand rose. Once he had asked for guilty (procedure), he looked at Harry and said in a feeble imitation of his commanding voice from earlier, "The Wizengamot pronounces your appeal successful. You are free to go with the sincerest apologies of the court and compensation of 5,000,000 galleons. A member of the Auror Department will remove the restraining bracelets. Is there anything you would like to add for the court?"

Teddy had anticipated the move to release the cuffs and once that was done Harry stood, leaning lightly against him. At the Minister's question he looked up and said, "Yes, as a matter of fact, there is."

"Uh oh," Remus muttered. "I recognise that tone of voice. He's fed up with them and going to let them know it."

He straightened up to his full height, releasing his hold on Teddy as he did so. "19 years ago I was the one to kill Lord Voldemort as a not quite 18-year-old, barely qualified wizard. The rest of the Wizarding world cowered behind your shields and charms aside from the few known as the Order of the Phoenix. You accepted his policies when he took over the Ministry without question like the sheep you are and many of you thrived under the cruel and inhumane management. You said and did nothing when he took over the school and had children learning the Dark Arts and being punished with Unforgivables."

"When I finally killed that man all those years ago I felt hope for once, hope for a better future for the citizens of Wizarding Britain. 5 years later, when it was popular to believe me guilty as you did during the war and during school (for those of you whom I am ashamed to say I attended Hogwarts aside) you all flocked to do so. Despite the fact that the only person I have killed is one the rest of you were too afraid or weak to you believed me capable of murder. You have destroyed my life and if what you said is true, have given me a noticeably closer horizon than is usual in our world."

"So what I say to you is this, keep your bloody money and shove your apologies wherever you choose, there are several places I can think of offhand. Your track record so far makes me wonder if things truly have changed from the war, or if it is the same ugly inner workings under a shiny new face. This was not the magical world I put my life and happiness on the line to save and your actions the past few years have been a pretty poor form of thanks."

He fell silent finally, staring into the chastised, indignant or thoughtful faces of the Wizengamot. Turning to Teddy he muttered, "Mind helping me out of this room, Teddy? By the way, your dad is undoubtedly beaming from ear-to-ear, wherever he is."

Teddy flushed, though his face closely resembled what Harry had just described. He nodded and helped Harry turn toward the doors. Draco and Hermione had almost met up with them when a hand touched Harry's shoulder, stopping his weak progress.

To Sirius' fury, it was none other than Molly Weasley. With shaking hands she said, "Come Harry, let's get you home to the Burrow."

Harry wrenched his shoulder out of her grasp and said coldly, "Do not touch me. Your true colours are only too visible now, Molly. I do not forgive those who turned their backs on me, the only members of your family I do not blame are Bill, George, their families and of course my sister-at-heart Hermione and her two kids, whom I know only by pictures. You've been shoving your daughter in my direction since 2nd year and when that fairytale fell through you washed your hands of me. Don't you dare try to touch me and act as if nothing has changed."

"Er—if I were Molly I'd be backing off right about now. One's temper is a bit short after any amount of time in there," Sirius commented, startled beyond words by Harry's little tirade against Molly.

"Don't you dare talk to my mum like that!" Ronald snarled.

Harry sneered back and snapped, "What is it like Ron, to open your eyes from your perfect dream world where I was out of your hair and you had the spotlight? I would have been better off if I had never met you."

They watched as Draco quietly placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, drawing the flinty green stare. It seemed to fall away from him like water and he sighed softly. Teddy continued to carefully escort him out of the courtroom, assisted by Draco on Harry's opposite side as his defiant strength was failing him before he had left the courtroom.

The silent observers started to leave. Soon Sirius was the only one left. He stared sadly at the doorway where Harry had disappeared and said softly, "I'll be seeing you soon, Harry. You're okay for now, but I'll be waiting."

He disappeared as well, shimmering into a faint mist that evaporated completely in the light of the nearby chandelier.

Chapter Text

Malfoy Manor-

Draco leaned his head back against a wall in one of his own hallways and resisted the urge to begin repeatedly smacking his forehead against said wall. He should have never agreed to stay away from Harry entirely, had he seen him before this could have been prevented. Now it was practically guaranteed that Harry wouldn't even last until Scorpius began Hogwarts for the first time.

It had taken all of his considerable self-control not to outwardly react to the shock of Harry's condition. The Dementors were gone and yet he looked worse than Lucius had, though his father had only been in there for about a year. Harry was in such bad shape he highly doubted his former lover had been treated like the guards were supposed to treat them now. He was both gritting his teeth in fury and trying desperately not to break down. Perhaps if he was alone he might indulge in the second, but not now.

Sitting in chairs nearby were Hermione Granger, Bill and George Weasley and Teddy Lupin. Three former Gryffindors and a former Ravenclaw. Of the four, he respected Hermione and Bill greatly. Hermione after the intensity of the war and her resilience when captured by Death Eaters, Bill for his formidable magical knowledge and profitable career. George earned his grudging respect and caution; he well remembered the antics of him and his deceased twin during school.

He was surprised that he had developed a genuine fondness for the last, his cousin of sorts. The son of an Auror and a former Professor (granted one Draco had never acted like he respected), Teddy Lupin had been a Ravenclaw and Head Boy in Hogwarts, graduating top of his class and immediately going into the Auror program. The Metamorphmagus' hair was a dark brown instead of its usual bright electric blue, a sign of his subdued emotions.

The door they were sitting across from opened and a grim-faced Healer walked out. She shut the door behind her and moved over to Draco. "Do I have permission to speak in front of the others?"

Draco nodded curtly. "You do, Healer Smythe."

"Then I am going to freely say that I have never seen a patient in as bad a condition as Mr. Potter, even straight out of Azkaban prison. His left leg is broken, the right shows signs of a few breaks that have healed badly, his right hand was broken a few years ago and healed badly enough that even writing probably hurts him. He's also malnourished and underweight and has numerous poorly healed scars across his back and chest. There are also signs of internal damage, if you get my meaning, Lord Malfoy."

Draco gritted his teeth as Hermione sobbed softly, clearly picking up the undertones as he had. "I do, Healer. What steps have you taken towards healing him?"

"I vanished the bones in his legs and gave him the proper dose of Skele-Grow. His hand, unfortunately, must remain the way it is. Magical healing is tricky and on the smaller bones of the hand it is unwise to vanish them. He's under a Pain-Reliever at the moment along with a dose of Dreamless Sleep, the second is wearing off at an extremely fast rate, he'll probably be awake in a couple of hours."

"I wouldn't let him move when he wakes; the Skele-Grow won't be done until tomorrow afternoon. He can be raised into a sitting position. Encourage him to take in as much liquids as he can and restrict him to a liquid diet for a few days. Nothing rich mind you, just soups and broths. I've left a vial of Nutrition potion on his bedside table, put at least four drops into each of his meals. Tomorrow afternoon if he desires it he can take a bath, he'll be weak so don't leave him alone and I've also left a vial of a specific bath oil, a mixture of Aloe Vera and some healing herbs, a few drops in the water will help with surface injuries."

"What about the status of his magic and the illness?" Draco finally asked; though he was loathe doing so.

Healer Smythe looked grim. "His magic is out of control," she replied. "He can't use it at all and it is imperative that you keep him from a magical outburst due to his temper or some other flux. If such an incident does occur, shield the one his outburst is pointed at with as strong a Shield Charm as you can manage and try to calm him down. As for the state of his illness, his magic is eating away at his reserves at an alarming rate. I hate to be the one to say this, but he won't last until the beginning of fall and if he does he'll be in near-constant pain."

Draco's face pinched slightly as he realised the kind of life Harry was restricted to now. "He is able to walk as of tomorrow, however?"

"For as long as he has the muscle control and strength to do so. That's the first thing his magic is attacking as the muscles hold an enormous store of energy."

"I am assuming you will be making a return trip?" Draco asked finally.

"I will be stopping in every two weeks," she confirmed. "The rate of his illness is steady so far, there's no telling when it may increase."

The Healer departed and they all stayed in their positions for a long time afterward, digesting what she had said about Harry. Finally Bill Weasley looked up and said, "Merlin. They delayed admitting they were wrong long enough to kill him anyway. And those guards," he snarled, "how low do you have to be to take advantage of a defenseless person?"

More to distract his irate oldest brother than anything, George spoke up. "Didn't the Healer say he was going to be waking up soon? Can we speak to him for a bit today?"

"Yes and I would say so," Draco replied. He walked over to the door and opened it carefully, letting them inside and slipping in as well, making sure to shut it behind him so his inquisitive son wouldn't think he could listen in at the door.

Harry fought his return to consciousness. In dreams at least he could avoid the knowledge imparted to him so callously by the Minister of Magic. In dreams he could fall back onto more pleasant times, times before his own stupidity and arrogance had cost him the one he truly loved. In dreams he could believe he'd never stepped foot into the hell of Azkaban prison, let alone spent the last 14 years there.

Despite his strongest efforts he was becoming more aware of his surroundings. Just the warmth and softness of the bed he was lying on could nearly make him weep in his current mental state. He shuddered and shook away the memories of the cold, damp floor of the prison, the mold and dirt in the cracks of the hard stone. Though scourgify had been cast by the Healer at his request he could still feel the dirt and grime and he felt absolutely filthy.

The soft blankets felt strangely heavy on his chest and legs, though he knew it was from his own weakness and 14 years of bad sleeping patterns he could still feel his claustrophobia kicking in. He blamed it on the prison for now, though in his weakest moments he knew it was really from being confined in a small broom cupboard and later a tiny room by his Muggle relatives. In moments like these, when he was being confronted by a lifestyle habit ingrained from years of mistreatment, it was far too easy to be absolutely furious with the benign, twinkly-eyed and dead Albus Dumbledore.

Harry could hear voices around him, soft and low. They were trying to not interrupt his non-existent sleep, he supposed. Listening carefully he could vaguely recognise Hermione and Draco's voices. There were a few more as well, but he couldn't understand them. Finally he gave up on his attempt to delay the real world and opened his eyes.

Hermione gave a soft gasp as she realised he was awake and said, "Harry! How are you feeling?"

"Weak and tired," he replied, voice little more than a raspy sigh. It triggered his memory of when he'd first seen Sirius and his voice had been little more than a croak from disuse. Other than screaming, that is. He shuddered.

"Are you cold, Harry?" Hermione asked instantly, mistaking his shudder for a shiver.

"No, Hermione. Can I move at all?"

"The Healer doesn't want you to stand, but we can certainly raise you into a sitting position," Draco responded, his voice as smooth and even as Harry remembered.

"That would be great," he answered wearily. "How long am I stuck on the bed?"

"The Healer said you can move as of tomorrow afternoon," Hermione replied this time.

Draco had moved to his side as Hermione was speaking and proceeded to retrieve his wand and carefully move the upper half to more of an upright position. He had placed a hand on Harry's shoulder to keep him from overbalancing and even that small contact had Harry automatically tensing. Draco obviously noticed and removed his hand as soon as he knew Harry was comfortable.

In the more upright position he noticed the other three visitors. Bill Weasley smiled at him, looking much the same aside from a few hairs turning red to grey and he wasn't quite as thin as he'd been 14 years ago. George sat next to his brother, a melancholy quirk of the lips instead of a smile. Harry ached for him; he'd never really recovered from Fred's death during the war.

Teddy Lupin sat closest to him of the three and the sight of him put a lump in Harry's throat. He looked so much like Remus but with a few more pixie-like features from his ever-bubbly mother. His hair was a very bright shade of blue that Hermione had described as his 'normal' colour and the amber eyes unique to him and his father shimmered in the light.

He reached out and took on of Harry's frail hands in his strong, youthful ones and said earnestly, "I never did believe you killed them, not even as a child. Neither did Gran. My parents knew you and they never would have made you my godfather if it were possible for you to do this."

"Hermione told me about you," he rasped in reply, wincing at the sound of his voice. "I may not have been in your life like I hoped, but I'm still very proud of you, Teddy. I've always cared about you."

"I know you have, Uncle Harry. Gran told me about you, how much you grieved for my parents and yet you wanted the best for me. She said you were going to start taking care of me fully once you graduated from the Auror Academy."

"I would have loved to," Harry rasped, throat tightening as a memory surfaced from what seemed a lifetime ago.

A few hours later the others left, Draco remained where he was, however. Harry looked up and met grey eyes with his own green. Draco's face was troubled as he looked at him and Harry knew the other was thinking about something he wasn't going to like. "What is it, Draco?" he said finally, wishing his throat would stop imitating a piece of sandpaper.

Draco stared into his eyes for a long moment before he finally said, "Why didn't you press charges while you were before the Wizengamot, Harry? They would have known you weren't lying about the guards with the Veritaserum."

Harry's eyes hardened even as he shuddered in a sudden bout of fear. "I don't need or want any of their pity, Draco! And what would have happened to those guards anyway besides a slap on the wrist and a few months or so in prison? I just want to forget it, it isn't like they could do any permanent damage or bring a child into that prison. Losing Siri's child at the end of 5th year cured that possibility!"

Quite abruptly his own words came back to his brain and he let go, sobbing brokenly. Draco didn't say word, neither did he move. He merely held Harry's hand, placing just the slightest pressure and warmth on it to indicate he was still there.

There were a few things in Harry's past Draco was exclusive to and that was one of them. At the time of Sirius' death Harry had been almost 3 months with their first child. Sirius hadn't known at the time, Harry had intended to tell him at the end of that school year. The shock, pain and grief of the night in the Department of Mysteries had been too much on an already fragile Harry and he'd miscarried. Afraid of having to tell Dumbledore about their relationship Harry hadn't gone to Poppy. By the time he'd seen a Healer they'd sadly informed him that the miscarriage had done too much damage to his insides and he wouldn't be able to carry again.

The blow that had struck to Harry had been such that 2 years later he'd been happy to meet Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest, aching for a release from a life he had done nothing but destroy. But the sisters Fate hadn't been done mucking around in his life and he'd been denied the peaceful death he wanted. Now 19 years later he was getting that release but only after the illness brought on by his rogue magic was done with him.

"What did I do to deserve this life I've led, Draco?" he asked finally. "I've tried to figure it out for years, but every time I think I'm finally able to live a happy, peaceful life it's ripped from my fingers."

"I don't know what it is that dominates our lives, Harry, but you certainly haven't done a thing to deserve this. Merlin, it's like our lives are backwards or something, Harry. You did nothing to deserve your life and I certainly don't deserve mine, at least not in my mind. My past actions were deplorable and yet I have my son Scorpius and I wasn't forced to leave England like my parents."

As his eyes were beginning to slide shut again Harry murmured, "You do deserve your life Draco. You more than made up for the spoiled little brat I used to know."

Draco laughed softly and waited until Harry was soundly asleep before standing. He made his way to his study, poured a glass of firewhiskey and sat down, attempting to ignore the tears staining his face.

July 31 st , 2017-

Once again Sirius, James & Remus had been jerked from their peaceful existence to the mortal plane. Once oriented James commented, "This has to be a record for us, twice in such a short amount of time?"

Sirius ignored him, trying to figure out where they were. He was about to give up when something caught his eye. Striding forward across a seemingly invisible floor he stared at the image in front of him and groaned. "Of all places, we had to show up at Malfoy Manor?"

Remus turned to him and said mildly, "How can you tell?"

Sirius merely pointed. James looked over his best friend's shoulder and snorted in laughter. "Albino peacocks? If it weren't such a fitting display of Malfoy vanity I'd say they were neat looking."

"Lucius was the one who bought them," Sirius commented, "but Draco hasn't gotten rid of them, has he?"

Remus was about to reply when they heard laughter. Moving towards the sound brought them to a spacious back patio, where a young boy with the white-blonde hair of a Malfoy was chasing a Crup puppy around on the small garden adjacent.

"He looks almost exactly like his dad and grandfather," Remus said. "Not so stuck-up in public, are they?"

"It's all about image, Moony," Sirius replied with dry sarcasm.

"Which you would know nothing about, correct Black?"

"Sure snak- I mean Snape," Sirius replied with a smirk, turning to look behind him where Severus and Lily were approaching. Severus merely rolled his eyes. The dour former Potions Master could easily put up with 'snake'; it was a great improvement over 'Snivellus'.

"It appears we're at Malfoy Manor," James informed the pair, sitting casually on the 'floor'. "That's Draco's son below us, we don't know his name yet."

Not a minute after he said that a female voice called, "Scorpius Hyperion, put your puppy in his kennel and help your Father!"

"Yes Mum!" Scorpius called back, barely resisting a roll of grey eyes.

Sirius winced at the name and said, "Scorpius Hyperion? Really? Cissa must have had major input on his name, that's the stupid Black tradition. Here I thought another generation wasn't going to be inflicted with names like that."

There was such a hang-dog expression on his face that Remus snorted in laughter. "Just because you didn't like that tradition doesn't mean everyone has to dislike it, Padfoot!"

"But Moony—" he began to whine, but Draco's voice cut him off.

"Scorpius, if you could please start bringing the gifts down I'd appreciate it. Just set them on the glass table here," the elegant young Lord gestured to a low coffee table as he spoke.

Scorpius walked off briskly. Draco studied the table for a long moment, debating something before finally waving his wand in a smooth motion. The table enlarged and brought enough chairs to seat 10 while a smaller table close to the gardens held 6. The larger table had an elegant cream-coloured tablecloth with delicate lace edging and the smaller table had a more functional white cotton one. With another flick of his wand the long, rectangular table was sporting a fruit bowl and two single white taper candles sitting on a deep green runner.

Draco had turned his back on the tables and was working on something else when Scorpius returned, carrying a large basket in one hand and a bag in the other. As he set them down next to his father the tables behind them were automatically set up with fine crystal & glass dinnerware. Neither one paid attention to it, used to the magic of the house elves. Instead Draco began removing small, brightly coloured boxes of various shapes and tapping them once with his wand, resizing them and setting them in a cheerful array.

"Who is all coming, Father?" Scorpius asked.

Draco tilted his head to the side, thinking for a moment before he said slowly, "Bill Weasley, his wife and three kids, Teddy Lupin, George Weasley, his wife and their two kids. Hermione Granger-Weasley is coming as well with Rose and Hugo."

The quiet observers blinked their eyes at the array of people and the amount of Weasleys, natural and married.

"Why are so many coming, Father?" Scorpius looked genuinely puzzled.

"It's Harry's birthday today Scorpius and these people were the ones that stood behind him when he was placed in Azkaban. They haven't seen him for the most part in 14 years other than a short visit after he was released. They want to be here to celebrate it with him," Draco replied softly.

Understanding dawned both for Draco's son and the observers. "So Harry's turning 37," James said softly, before adding bitterly, "and due to the Ministry this is the last birthday he'll celebrate with his friends."

"This is something small, Draco? I'd hate to see your version of large," the humoured yet faint voice drew their attention to the glass French doors, where Harry and Draco's wife were. They all felt their throats tighten sadly as they looked at him.

Though it was the end of July Harry was dressed in a warm cashmere turtleneck in the same deep green as the runner on the table and black slacks. He was sitting in the magical version of a Muggle wheelchair, the slacks barely visible beneath a thin but warm blanket that rested across his lap, tucked in around the waist. He was still far too pale and thin, the only colour in his face coming from his eyes and ebony, shoulder-length hair.

Draco's wife said with cheerful good humour, "Believe me Harry, you don't want to know what he considers a large affair. I'll give you a hint, we hold only one on New Years and he starts planning it in early September."

Harry gave her a mock-horrified look as Draco stared at the pair and grumbled, "It's enough putting up with you, Astoria, don't get him started as well."

Astoria spun on her heel and said pertly before she left, "He was well ahead of me on that, dear. After all, he's been putting up with you since your mutual 1st year at Hogwarts."

James snorted with laughter, mimicked by his son on the patio. "She's got quite the temper, doesn't she?"

"Astoria Greengrass," Severus supplied, "the younger sister of Daphne and up until the end of the war I had thought she couldn't stand Draco. Obviously something changed."

Harry's lips twitched as he watched her walk away before turning to Scorpius. "Enjoying your last summer of complete freedom, Scorpius?"

The blonde child beamed. "Absolutely, but I'm looking forward to attending Hogwarts. I've heard so much about it from my parents & Rose's mum."

Harry's smile turned slightly melancholy before he said, "Your years ought to be peaceful at least, Scorpius. May I give you one piece of advice?" he added softly.

At Scorpius' assenting nod he continued, ignoring the way Draco's back had stiffened slightly as the other listened in. "You are going to meet many new people and be faced with situations that you otherwise wouldn't, Scorpius. To get through them all you have to do is stay true to yourself. Don't worry about what others think or say, the ones that truly are your friends or respect you will continue to do so. It's not worth it to change who you are to try and impress or hold onto a single person."

Scorpius' grey eyes narrowed and he said, "Like you did with Rose's dad," he replied.

Harry stiffened, no doubt caught by surprise. "Yes," he replied softly, "like I did with Ron."

"I'll remember that, sir," Scorpius said. "But really sir, it's not your fault Rose's dad is an idiot."

Severus snorted with laughter, closely echoed by Harry below them. Draco straightened, mock glared at Harry for the encouragement and said to Scorpius, "Be that as it may, don't ever say that to Mr. Weasley's face, Scorpius."

"Of course not," Scorpius scoffed to his father, "you're the one that told me his temper is as short as his hair!"

James burst out laughing. "I like that kid," he gasped after a moment, "he's got quite the personality."

"He's exactly like Draco was at that age," Severus replied dryly, "all attitude and no tact."

Astoria returned just at that moment, meaning that Hermione and the other's first impression of Harry was him laughing so hard he could barely breathe, not daring to meet Draco's glittering eyes.

"Well that's a pleasant image," Hermione commented. "What has you laughing so hard?"

Desperately getting his laughter under control Harry nearly wheezed, "Just a comment Scorpius made, Hermione. How are you?"

"Doing well. I have a couple people for you to meet," she added, gesturing to the two kids behind her. "Rose, Hugo, this is Harry Potter, my best friend from school and a fellow former Gryffindor."

Rose had curly red hair and brown eyes, while Hugo had blue eyes and short but curly brown hair. Aside from the hair colour Hugo looked almost exactly like his father, while Rose was her mother in miniature, down to (to Harry's private amusement) the slightly large front teeth. She had a bright smile and eyes that sparkled with intelligence, however.

"I'm glad to meet you two finally," Harry replied, smiling at the two nervous kids. "Your mother has brought pictures of you with her each time she visited me, but even wizarding pictures aren't quite the same thing."

Rose smiled shyly and she and her brother chirped at the same time, "Happy Birthday."

"Thank you," Harry replied before adding with a wink, "mind you, when I was your age I thought 37 was kind of old."

That got soft laughter from the siblings, who soon excused themselves to go play with Scorpius on the grass.

"They're sweet kids, Hermione. Rose is almost exactly you at that age, down to the teeth you always tried to hide. Are you going to act like your parents and make her keep them? I seem to remember you got away with getting them fixed due to Draco's 'help'," he finger-quoted the last word.

"What's this?" Draco replied, curious.

"Outside Potions in 4th year, when your deflected curse hit Hermione in the mouth and caused her front teeth to start enlarging, she let Poppy keep going on reversing until they were normal-sized even though her parent's didn't want her to fix them with magic."

"I wondered when that happened. I remember noticing it along with everyone else when you showed up at the Yule Ball, but I figured you finally just decided to fix them yourself."

Hermione sighed, before grinning. "Wasn't that when you and Ron weren't speaking and you both started yelling at Professor Snape?"

Harry scowled. "He totally ignored you, Hermione. You could have been badly hurt. Though it's probably a good thing Ron and I started yelling at the same time, I don't think he got exactly what I was saying. That's a good thing," he added.

"Why?" Hermione said sternly. Harry merely whistled innocently until she started glaring. Then he gulped, shrank back into the chair a little and said, "Let's just say I wasn't saying the politest things in the world and leave it at that, shall we?"

As Sirius and James burst out laughing Severus shook his head and grumbled, "I knew exactly what he was saying, the little brat. I just wondered where he'd picked up that kind of language."

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" Hermione shrieked below, as Draco started laughing. She'd apparently gotten Harry to tell her exactly what he'd said and she wasn't impressed.

Remus lowered his hands from his ears. He'd noticed Hermione's expression and thought it a good thing to protect his sensitive hearing.

A soft 'crack' caught their attention and they watched as Bill and Fleur Weasley approached, two boys behind them and a tall witch with glossy red hair & her mother's deep blue eyes appeared, holding hands with Teddy. Rose and Hugo spotted Teddy and shrieked in greeting, running up and giving him a hug. He replied enthusiastically, swinging both off their feet to accompanying giggles of laughter.

Remus smiled softly at his son, glad that he appeared to be a permanent fixture into the Weasley family and Draco's as well if Scorpius' polite but happy greeting meant anything. If the smiles and entwined hands with Bill's oldest child and only daughter were interpreted correctly, he was going to be even more permanent in a few years. Dora would be happy to hear about their son and how well he was doing. She was already overjoyed that he'd followed her career path.

The observers watched as Harry celebrated his birthday with friends and those whom he called family, pleased to see that he had some form of happiness left in his life, however fleeting it was. When the last guest had departed so did they, vanishing back to their own plane of existence without a single sound or shimmer to mark their departure.

August 15 th -

Harry lay on a chaise in the sunroom on the 2nd floor, eyes shut. He wasn't asleep yet, though he often would drift off without warning. His legs had given out before his birthday and now he was weak enough that he couldn't move more than his hands and arms without help. He could direct his magical wheelchair with his voice, but he couldn't get into or out of it without help. For someone as independent as Harry had been, it was humiliating. He wasn't an inconvenience for anyone at Malfoy Manor, however.

Draco worked from home for the most part and he was more than willing to take care of Harry's needs. The blonde had been his constant companion other than when he was asleep at night ever since he'd woken up about a week ago too weak to even sit up in bed. Even now he could tell the blonde wasn't far due to the soft rustling of parchment which meant Draco was working on some paper or other.

Astoria and Scorpius were gone today, fetching Scorpius' supplies for when he started at Hogwarts. A small smile crossed Harry's lips as he remembered Scorpius' happy yell the day before his birthday when he'd received the Hogwarts letter by owl. Draco's son was quite the kid and he was sure that Minerva was relieved she no longer taught. Still, the austere woman who had been one of his fiercest backers during the war had taught 2 generations of most the magical families over the years.

The sun was warm on his pale skin and his breathing even as he thought about a few things. Starting on his birthday he'd begun seeing a few things and by the lack of reaction from his companions they couldn't see them. For what Harry saw could be more correctly defined as who. At his birthday lunch he'd stared off into the trees for a moment, remembering the past and a shimmer of something had caught his gaze.

Looking more closely he'd been surprised to notice it was a familiar face. A face that clearly belonged to one Remus Lupin, gone for 19 years. Remus hadn't noticed him and when he'd followed the shimmery form's line of sight he'd seen Teddy Lupin, chatting with Angelina and George. The happiness and pride evident in the transparent eyes made him smile.

Since then at odd moments he'd noticed other familiar and long gone faces. Severus had appeared one evening at dinner, watching Draco and his son with a surprisingly open smile on his thin mouth. He'd almost started crying when he'd seen his mother and father one day the previous week on the grounds; he'd been lying in the grass under a huge old oak tree when he'd quite clearly seen his mother's form in the trees to his left. That had marked the first time they realised he could see them and she had waved, smiling sadly.

Remus had appeared again not long after he'd first noticed the Marauder, once again when Teddy Lupin had been over visiting. For a second he wondered if Teddy had seen his father, for his amber eyes had widened quite a bit when he'd been looking over in that approximate direction. The suspicion had been laid to rest as fact moments later when he'd turned to Harry and asked shakily if he could see the man watching them. Harry had nodded and murmured, "It's exactly who you think it is, Teddy."

Remus had disappeared not much later, a broad smile on his face as he waved to his grown son. That had been the only time someone else had seen one of the figures, since then they'd only been visible to him. He had a feeling it was due to his illness and the end he could feel approaching by the day now. The only figure he hadn't seen yet was Sirius, but he knew he would when the time was right. Luna had said much the same thing just after Sirius' death. "Do you really think the ones that love us ever truly leave, Harry? They always do turn up…in the end."

Harry used to think Luna was an odd girl and later woman, but now he took comfort in her words. They were already coming true. And as odd as it seemed, Harry couldn't wait for the moment when he'd see that face and that smile again. He knew it wasn't long now without the Healer's words. His body was failing and as September 1st approached he knew he wasn't going to make it to that day. The last time he saw Platform 9 ¾ in his lifetime had been the end of his 6th year. The beginning of the harshest year of the war truly had been the beginning of the end for him.

He opened his eyes, wearily blinking at the bright light until his gaze adjusted. Tilting his head he reached out from his semi-propped position and weakly grasped a glass of chilled pumpkin juice and took a long sip. The sugary liquid had been his favourite at Hogwarts but now he couldn't drink it in larger amounts than shot glasses due to it being too rich for his body. He shakily placed the glass back down, it barely chinked against the glass tabletop.

Either it had been louder than he thought or Draco had been ready to take a break, because the next thing he heard was the chair scratching backwards and Draco moved into his peripheral vision, sinking lightly into an armchair. He studied the leaves for a long moment and finally said, "This year fall seems to have crept up on me. Normally it drags on; I guess that has something to do with this being Scorpius' last free summer."

Harry studied the outside himself, taking in the rich reds, gold, browns and yellow tones that comprised the still mostly full trees and shrubs. The grass had yet to brown and the leaves were stubbornly hanging on in the light breeze, not yet taking off in whirlwind dances that seemed too beautiful to be random air patterns, nor coating the ground to create music on even the quietest of walks.

"This time of year was always one of my favourites before I came to Hogwarts." He mused aloud, "Dudley would be off to school in a couple of weeks and so his parents were too devoted to him and his school supplies to pay much attention to me. It was always peaceful and fairly quiet, at least until we got to school and Dudley made sure I was completely alone and an outcast."

Draco winced. "I still feel guilty about that, Harry. I judged you without really knowing you. I assumed you knew what you were doing when I asked to be your friend and since you were the first person I really wanted to impress, it hurt and made me angry for making myself so vulnerable."

Harry sighed and murmured, "I can't say I was completely innocent either, Draco. No I had no idea about pureblood traditions or customs, but I judged you as well, based on what I'd heard of your family and Ron's bias against your likely House. We were mere children Draco and we made mistakes, simple as that. If I had a chance to do this over, the first thing would have been not judging you, followed by not messing with a Hat that has Sorted countless thousands of people over the years."

Draco snorted. "I still say Severus would have died of shock had you been Sorted into Slytherin house."

Harry laughed softly before falling silent. He stared out the windows, though his mind wasn't truly taking in the fall afternoon. After what seemed like ages but probably had been a couple of minutes he said, "What do you think of Hermione's suggestion? Should I go with it or not?"

Draco didn't immediately answer, which Harry had expected. It was a weighted topic after all. Hermione had approached Harry at the end of his birthday gathering and asked if Harry would authorise her to write a true biography of his life, based on interviews, his multiple journals and a Pensieve full of memories. She had said that it would be good for there to be at least one true voice in all the accounts that supposedly told his life's story.

On one hand Harry was for it, it was a good idea after all and Hermione had made a very logical case for it. He knew at least that in her hands nothing would be exaggerated or misled and he trusted her to put his Pensieve into Draco's hands the moment the book was done. Harry had entrusted the basin of his memories to Draco for the simple fact that he truly trusted Draco to keep them safe and secret.

On the other he was vehemently against it, his privacy had been his top priority over the years. But really, once he was dead and gone, what was the point of keeping secrets? He had seen what it did to Dumbledore after all and he wouldn't want Rita Skeeter to get her hands on his life's story. Hermione would keep it simple and truthful, telling his story as he would have wanted it told and ignoring satisfying public image in favour of making sure the right version was printed.

"I think," Draco finally said, "that it has both its good and bad points but the final decision has to be yours. I wouldn't care about what it says about me, I'm not my father and in the end that would be seen. Ronald might not like it, especially in the parts about the death of his sister and when he left you and Hermione on the Horcrux hunt. It would certainly be a very sharp and pointed reminder to the Ministry of Magic, which is something I think they still need."

Harry thought about Draco's points for a long time, so long that Scorpius returned from Diagon Alley with his mother. After admiring the boy's elegant new barn owl and the shiny new wand he turned to his companion as Scorpius was chattering to his father and murmured, "Tell her that she can write it, but at least half the proceeds go to the LRS in honour of Remus."

The LRS was short for Lycanthrope Relief Society, a fund that served the magical community internationally to help provide the Wolfsbane Potion to werewolves and helped them gain the proper education and job placement to make their life easier. It also produced books & pamphlets promoting the true facts of a werewolf's life and the rights and wrongs of the Ministry's current policies. Harry had founded the LRS when he was 19 in honour of Remus Lupin, his beloved honorary godfather. If Hermione was going to write her book, he decided, the least he could do was make sure that the money went to a good cause.

August 20 th , Evening-

The Floo call Hermione had been simultaneously anticipating and dreading came early evening on the 20th. Harry had been fading fast over the past couple of weeks and the Healer had told them all that it wasn't long before his body finally gave in. She was working on the introduction of the biography of Harry's life when the fireplace flared green and a note shot out. Trembling, she stood and shakily walked over to where the note lay.

It didn't help her nerves in the slightest to note that Draco's normally elegant calligraphy was shaking in places, as if he was having trouble writing the few words on the scrap of parchment. Harry's fading fast, he won't last until morning.

Gulping back tears she walked over to her desk and closed the spiral notebook she'd been writing in. The title of Harry's biography had been printed in her own bold black lettering when Harry had given her permission to write it. Behind Camera Flashes: The True Life and Story of Harry James Potter. She had just plucked a robe off the back of her chair and was preparing to Floo over when her husband walked into the room.

Ron held a glass of wine in his hand and a copy of the Daily Prophet. Their children had gone to bed a couple hours earlier. He hadn't been happy at all when she had brought Rose and Hugo to meet Harry, especially when they'd come back later talking happily about how nice he was and his dry sense of humour. He took in the robe and Floo powder and scowled.

"I thought we were going to take this evening off, Hermione. You've been busy at the office all week and this is the first night we've both had off in a while."

"I'm not going to work," she snapped. "Remember Harry, your best friend? The one that just got out of Azkaban in early July? Draco just flooed a message saying he won't last until morning. You abandoned him in 4th year because you thought he wanted the fame of the Triwizard Tournament and it took a dragon to convince you he hadn't entered. You abandoned us again for a couple of months on the Horcrux hunt and don't tell me that the locket was powering all of your comments. When are you going to apologise this time Ron, at his grave?"

Spinning away from her husband's shocked face she flung some of the powder into the fireplace and said clearly, "Malfoy Manor!"

When she emerged Draco was waiting for her. He looked pale and wan, his hands trembled slightly. When she had brushed the soot off her robes they set off as he said, "Good evening, Hermione. Bill, George and Teddy are with him at the moment. I hope I didn't interrupt anything?"

"No, of course not," she replied. "I was getting started on the introduction of Harry's book, actually. I'm excited to write it, especially since the proceeds are going to the LRS. Harry's pet project after the war really took off the past few years and they'll appreciate the funds."

"I wasn't surprised he set that condition," Draco said. "It is a good idea however and I'm glad he's letting you write this."

The man next to her fell silent for a long moment before he said in a near-whisper, "He says he can see Sirius in the room with us, Hermione."

"I'm not surprised," she said matter-of-factly. "Teddy said he saw his father one day when he was talking to Harry and that Harry was the only other person that could see him. I'm not surprised Sirius has shown up, now that Harry's path is coming to a close. I wouldn't be surprised if him, Remus and Harry's parents had been watching and waiting for this moment for a while now."

Draco looked at her and his lips twitched. "Far cry from the girl who used to consider Divination and the other realm a very 'wooly' branch of magic."

Hermione giggled in reply. "That was before I met Luna and she really began to show her talents. I'm not surprised Minerva asked her to teach Divination. Much better than that fraud Trelawney, who's only true prophecies both created problems for Harry."

Draco pushed the door open, motioning for her to go through first. When she saw Harry all humour fell away and she was hard-pressed to contain tears. Her best friend's breathing was shallow and raspy and his face was pale. She approached him slowly and when he saw her he smiled and for a moment she couldn't contain a sob as she recognised the innocent, shy boy she'd met all those years ago on the train.

He held up a shaky hand that she instantly took as Draco guided her to a chair next to Harry's bed. Draco moved to the other side and sat down, quietly watching Harry with the emotions so clear on his face that they made Hermione's breath catch.

"I can see Siri, Hermione," Harry whispered softly, voice barely more than a rasp. "I knew I would see him eventually. He's over by the window, smiling at you and making all the hand gestures that you'd be slapping him for."

Hermione was unable to suppress a blush at that and she grumbled, "He never grew up, did he?"

Harry laughed softly and replied, "No, I don't think he did."

Harry merely glanced in Siri's direction as he said this and his laughter became louder and slightly rougher in the process. The Marauder was glaring at him and pouting exaggeratedly, obviously annoyed that Harry hadn't defended his maturity.

He looked back to Hermione and said in a scratchy voice, "Did you start your book? Knowing you it was the first thing you started doing when you got Draco's message."

Hermione's cheeks reddened and she said, "You know me too well, Harry. And yes, I started it. It will be exactly as you would have wanted it Harry, precise and harshly truthful about all of us and our adventures. I contacted the managers of the LRS; they were very excited about the book and what the proceeds would do for their projects."

"Hopefully one day the LRS won't be needed," Harry mused softly. "Of all the future things I would miss seeing, that would be one, the end of prejudice. I think it's a long time in coming, however."

He shut his eyes and struggled to breathe for a few minutes, determined to prolong the inevitable a little longer. "Don't grieve very long for me, any of you. Concentrate on your families and the future and let any image of me be one from the past, not as I am now. Teddy, I fully expect you to stop procrastinating and do what you told me you were thinking about."

Teddy at first jumped at being singled out and then blushed to the roots of his currently mousy-brown hair. He stammered for a couple of moments before he finally just closed his mouth and nodded. Harry beamed at his godson and murmured, "Good for you, Teddy. Don't let life pass you by before going after your own happiness like your dad did. That's the one thing Sirius and I were always exasperated with him about, delaying his own happiness with his lame excuses."

"Merlin," he grumbled, "I can hardly keep my eyes open anymore."

"Then close them, Harry. We're here and we won't leave," Draco's soft voice replied.

Harry turned his head with effort and caught grey eyes. Squeezing Draco's hand as hard as he could he growled, "That grieving comment applies to you as well, Mr. Slytherin Ice Prince and don't you dare close up on Astoria and Scorpius. Keep up your friendship with Hermione even if it's just to give Ron a heart attack and encourage that wild kid of yours to make trouble worthy of the Marauders."

Draco laughed softly and said, "And give my parents a heart attack in the process? No Malfoy would ever be so obvious as your parents and their friends were."

Harry grinned slyly and murmured, "Who says there can't be a Slytherin Marauder, Draco?"

Draco obviously caught him struggling to keep his eyes open because he chastised again, quite softly, "Close your eyes, Harry. We're here for you."

Harry gave them each a long gaze, committing their faces to memory. Draco, Bill, George, Teddy and Hermione, those who loved him and stayed by his side unconditionally even when the Ministry acted like he was a pariah of magical society.

He closed his eyes with their faces imprinted in his memory and stayed so still he could have simply fallen asleep. Less than an hour later, at half past 10 in the evening on August 20th, 2017, Harry simply stopped breathing. The long life of the Boy-Who-Lived had finally come to a close.