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In the darker moments of the war, Harry had trouble imagining much beyond the day.
Afterwards, he still couldn’t imagine much of a future. His healers would encourage him to think about it, but he could never articulate what he wanted, only having an amorphous absence around the idea of home.
But his future was here and it was strange beyond his imagination.
Strange – and wonderful.
They would awake together to recorded birdsong and dress in the silence of the morning, no longer needing to speak to understand each other. The days were long and busy with experiments, maintenance, exploration. But the mornings were just for them. At the kitchen table, such as it was, they would tangle up their legs to keep them together in the low gravity of Europa. And hold hands while they squeezed nutrient jelly into their mouths.
Hundreds were assessed to form a team so compatible, they could survive the rigors of space travel. And so they were: Harry, Fred, and Draco – unimaginable in the past, but now a family of sorts. No one would be left behind in this strange place. This distant rock was home and if they left, they would go together.