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Harry threw his head back against the headboard of his and Ron’s shared bed. With a quiet sigh, Harry watched Ron crawl from the edge of the bed to lie beside him, a smug grin on his face. His hand had dragged the blanket up with him, draping it over Harry’s waist in the process.
Ron placed peppered kisses on Harry’s exposed collarbone, leading up to his neck and then his lips. “Did the distraction work?”
Harry let out a breathless laugh. “Yes.”
“Good. Because we have to leave in forty-five minutes.”
Harry’s smile dropped, and Ron was welcomed with an annoyed scowl. “I do not want to go. Do they really need me? No, they don’t.”
“Harry, you’re the guest speaker.” Ron kissed him again, briefly leaving Harry yearning for more. “You are needed.”
Harry sighed. He turned his head away from Ron when everything in him was telling him to keep his gaze on him. He thought about where they were going tonight and what it entailed. An entire list of people Harry had memorized in the back of his head would be there: parents of fallen students, families of dead Aurors and Ministry officials, his friends and family, and students who fought in the war. They’ll be there to listen to Harry honor the fallen while Harry remains with the guilt he carries every day.
“Hey,” whispered Ron. Harry looked back at him. Ron’s eyes softened. “I know that look. Don’t go all ‘It’s My Fault’ Harry Potter on me. It’s lame.”
Harry was rendered speechless for a solid few seconds. “Lame?” he echoed, completely surprised at Ron’s choice of words.
“Yes. Lame. If you won’t listen when I say it’s ‘not true’, then I figured ‘lame’ would send a message.”
In response, Harry grabbed a pillow from behind him and smacked Ron with it.
“OI!” Ron exclaimed. He snatched the pillow away and threw it off the bed. “Does that mean it worked?”
“You’re unbearable.” His eyes rolled, but the hint of humor was obvious.
“Of course I am.” He pushed himself up and threw his legs off the bed. “We need to shower.”
“Or…” Harry grabbed Ron’s hand and pulled him back. The position was awkward. Ron fell on his back on top of his stomach. “We could stay and continue where you left off?” He ran his fingers through Ron’s hair, tugging occasionally the way he liked.
Ron inhaled, his eyes fluttering shut. Harry could feel Ron wanting to give him. He sensed Ron’s body twitch with anticipation. The hitch in his breathing when Harry tugged with more determination had Harry believing he was winning. But then Ron said, “piss off, mate,” and Harry rolled his eyes again and pushed Ron off of him.
“Unbelievable.”
Ron laughed, knowing Harry despised it when Ron referred to him as “mate.’ It had been an old habit that Ron had to erase when they finally got together after the war. A simple word that meant nothing more than a friend. Something Harry had hated since fourth year– something that reminded Harry of the yearning and nights wondering why he loved Ron, who was a boy.
Ron only used to annoy Harry. And it always worked.
Ron got up, ripping the blanket off of Harry in the process. He was welcomed with the cold breeze from the open window, but was soon relaxing under the hot water in the shower. Ron stood in front of him, letting Harry ease his shoulders from the shower’s head. The tension was fading, only slightly, as Ron started short conversations to distract as well, but Harry wasn’t much of a responder.
They got ready afterwards. Harry stood in front of the mirror next to the entrance of their flat. Everything about him, his physical flaws, seemed to be more present. The deep crescents under his eyes that haven't disappeared in five years made him look hollow, dead even. It wasn’t noticeable to anyone aside from him and Ron, but he was thinner. The anticipation of tonight's gathering had Harry eating less and less these days. It'd made his jaw sharper than normal, his suit barely clinging to his sides.
His scar looked ready to pop, the white of the lightning bolt standing out more than ever. It hadn’t stung since Voldemort died. Harry no longer felt like clawing it off, but now it seemed to be twitching from stress. He traced it with his finger while watching in the mirror. His reflection exposed a ghost of what he was before everyone died.
He shouldn’t be going. People there would see him as a hero when all he was was a failure.
Ron came out of their bedroom, his suit tailored perfectly. He approached Harry with a warm smile that already made Harry feel a hundred times better. He came up behind Harry, poking him in the side. “You look good.”
“Just for you.” He turned to face him. His reflection no longer mattered. “We’re late, by the way.”
Ron looked at his watch and frowned. “Hermione’s going to kill us.”
“I hope so. Means I don’t have to deal with tonight.” Harry’s joke was left unfazed by Ron.
With the floo locked on the location, a beautiful park located in Scotland with monuments dedicated to those who passed, Harry and Ron left their flat in a matter of no time.
There was an entire neighborhood that circled it, mostly containing witches and wizards and a few scattered Muggles. A building for the Ministry, in particular, was where Harry and Ron exited. No cameras, not yet, something Harry was grateful for. He wasn’t ready to be bombarded with the flashing lights again.
They were welcomed by Hermione and Luna. Hermione was the first to step forward and hug the two boys. Harry melted underneath her embrace. She had been the first one to ever hug him, and every time she did afterwards, Harry was reminded that he deserved the kind gesture. She didn’t pull away as quickly as she normally did, and neither Harry nor Ron was arguing. They haven’t spoken to her all day (she’s been busy coordinating the event because of her position in the Ministry), but Harry knew the pain she was carrying, as everyone attending would be.
The feeling of not wanting to get out of bed. That there’s a boulder on top, crushing you just enough that you struggle to breathe, but not enough to kill you. Ron understood, too. His nightmares in the first year after the war, he’d wake up with a lack of breath, a reminder of when he was on the run from Snatchers on his own. Ron used to never talk about the time he left Harry and Hermione. Just like Hermione had never talked much about the pain of the torture and the forever reminder on her arm that she covered with a tattoo, or Harry, whose nightmares replayed every dead body he saw on Hogwarts grounds.
Each of the walls, built by them, took a tedious amount of time to tear down. Each of them was trying to get the other to open up when they themselves couldn’t even speak up because of the hold those memories had on them.
Today would be the day those memories would hang in front of them like an out-of-reach spider dangling from its web. It’d be in front of everyone, too. Harry had to be strong for his friends and family, and everyone attending. He wouldn’t let them see how much all of this was affecting him.
“You’re late,” Hermione said once she pulled away. “Ten minutes. I was expecting at least twenty.”
Harry chuckled. “Glad to have proved you wrong. Hi, Luna.” He pulled her into a quick hug. “You look beautiful. Both of you.”
“Thank you.” Luna offered a smile. She placed her hand on his chin and moved it so he was looking directly down at her. “You’re pale, Harry. I suggest not drinking any alcohol tonight. Just water, perhaps a tea you could get somewhere.”
“Alcohol is the only thing that will be keeping me from going, I’m afraid.” He moved his face out of her grasp. He looked over at Ron, who gave him a look meaning he agreed with Luna. He huffed. “Three drinks.”
“One,” Ron, Hermione, and Luna said in unison.
“Two!”
All of them shared the same look, and Harry knew he lost.
“Fine. One,” he grumbled.
Hermione guided the conversation somewhere else. “Are you ready to see everyone?”
“No,” Harry admitted. “But I have no choice, do I?”
Harry reached for Ron’s hand and interlocked their fingers. Those safe blue eyes assuring him he wasn’t going anywhere. The same ones that had been there in the middle of the night when Harry woke from a nightmare or during a panic attack sprang from minor triggers. They’d be with him this evening, and that’s all that mattered.
They left the building and walked across the street to the park where high tables were neatly placed by each other with no chairs, an outdoor bar in between two trees, and the enormous memorials with engraved names of every fallen person at the Battle of Hogwarts and those before were on both sides of a podium where Harry would be making his speech in front of at least 200 people. This was already too much.
The Weasleys were the first to approach him. He was grateful he was able to see them all. Especially George, when he had been hesitant to join the family. Ron got swept away by Charlie and Harry was forced to navigate through the long figurative line of Kingsley, his friends, Colin Creevy’s parents (who he’d plan to see again on Colin’s birthday in a few months), Professor Mcgonagall and fellow Hogwarts staff that he’d seen not even two weeks ago, Aurors he had met before he quit the job two years ago, and finally, Andromeda and Teddy.
“How’s my favorite god-son?” Harry picked up Teddy and spun him around with a mustered smile.
“Wotcher, Harry!” Teddy exclaimed. The words struck hard in Harry’s heart, but he concealed them with ease. “I’ve missed you!”
“Not as much as I’ve missed you, I bet.” He set him down and looked at Andromeda. “How are you, Andromeda?”
She chuckled lightly. “What an odd question to ask anyone today, isn’t it?”
Harry felt heat rush to his face. “Yeah— Yeah, it is. Sorry.”
“Nana?” Teddy tugged at her dress. “ Can I go to Vicky?”
“Yes, she’s just over there.” She nudged him toward the direction where Fleur was with her daughter, holding her by her hand. Teddy zoomed off over to her, leaving Harry and Andromeda alone.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been by recently.” Harry’s guilt was plastered all over his face; he just knew it. “I’ve been…”
“Stuck in your own head?” She offered.
Harry’s mouth faded into a guilty smile. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“I don’t blame you. I’m afraid my company wouldn’t be pleasant anyway. I’ve also been stuck in my own head.” A waiter moved past them, and she set her empty glass on their tray. Harry, on the other hand, grabbed a glass filled with champagne. “Today’s been challenging.”
“I get it. I think everyone here does.”
“And those who aren’t,” she said bitterly.
Harry raised an eyebrow and looked around before the realization set in. “Your sister isn’t here.”
“Narcissa has been known to flake when it comes to me.” Her face conveyed her disappointment. Harry understood her loneliness. When he was 15, it seemed everyone had been farther than arm's length from him. And he hated knowing someone he cared about was feeling the same way.
“I bet Mrs. Weasley will love to keep you company, Andromeda.” Harry placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t be alone tonight.”
“You too, Harry.”
“He won’t be.” Ron seemed to have come out of nowhere, something typically impossible because Ron always made his presence known beforehand. But he swooped up from behind Harry, his hand discreetly swiping the champagne out of Harry’s hand. Harry started to protest, but Ron addressed Andromeda. “Mum was trying to look for you, apparently.”
Andromeda chuckled. “I guess if the two of you are saying something, then that means I must follow. It was lovely seeing you, Harry. I’ll be around if you need anything.”
When she walked away, Harry was about to say something to Ron when he pulled him close with a tight tug. “I have a curious, um… question?” He said low for only the two of them to hear.
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to seduce me right now, Ron?”
“What? No!” Ron looked aghast at the insinuation. “Why would I do that here? No, it’s just, I can’t figure out where I know this bloke.”
“Oh.” Harry visibly relaxed. “Who? Point him out.”
Ron’s eyes snapped to the bar where a scattered group of people were standing. “The one on the far left, in all black. He looks familiar, doesn’t he?”
Harry squinted, his head tilting with curiosity. A man around their age stood with neatly done brown hair, parted in the middle, with scotch in his left hand. His tan skin glowed underneath the sunset; he was undeniably attractive even though Harry could only see the right side of his face. It took a few moments for it to click in. There were so many people here that Harry had memorized; he hadn’t memorized him. The man hadn’t been on the list of invites.
“That’s Theodore Nott,” Harry said, surprised. “He was friends with Malfoy.”
“I know that.”
“Oh. Then why–”
Ron nudged Harry a bit forward. “We’ve seen him somewhere else, though, haven’t we? Recently? Or– or in the past two years?”
“I don’t know, Ron.” He was staring at Nott for too long because the Slytherin locked eyes with him and smirked. He didn’t turn to face him, but it was enough to strike something familiar. Ron wasn’t lying when he said they had seen him somewhere else, not in Hogwarts, but it was the last thing Harry wanted to think about. “Does that really matter right now?”
“Well–” Ron stopped himself. He tore away from Nott and landed on Harry. “You’re right. I’m sorry. More important matters.” He placed a kiss on his cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“What an odd question to ask anyone today, isn’t it?”
“Fair point. You’re staying by my side for the rest of the evening, okay? Even if that means I have to listen to you talk to Ministry officials about things I don’t care about.”
Harry chuckled, and it was his turn to kiss Ron on the cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Two hours had passed in a haze. The tone of the gathering was solemn, a quiet understanding amongst the guests. People were scattered in groups, and Harry stopped by each of them to have a small conversation with Ron behind him. Harry knew everyone here; he made sure, over the years, he remembered every fallen student at Hogwarts and their families. He even memorized all of those who died outside the Battle of Hogwarts. The names he used to hear on the radio, Ron listened to on the run, were engraved in his mind.
His last stop was meant to be Theodore Nott, but he seemed to have disappeared. Harry wanted to know who he had lost in the fight. Maybe someone who was never found. Or maybe he was with Pansy Parkinson for support, but she was currently with Ginny. And perhaps the itching feeling of where he had seen him last was on his mind. Nott’s face was a hard one to forget, considering how attractive he was. Of course, Ron had to remind him on such a depressing day. Harry’s mind was meant to be focused on the people here, not a person whom Harry may or may not have interacted with in the two-year span Ron had given him.
Harry and Ron found themselves with Dean, Seamus, and Neville when Kinglsey approached him and gave him a five-minute heads-up that his speech was approaching.
“Do any of you want to do the speech?” Harry jested weakly. He took the final sip of his first and only drink of the night.
“You’ll do great, Harry.” Neville tried to assure, but Harry drowned out the words. “Make it short and quick.”
“Uh-huh…” Harry looked at Ron, who hadn’t stopped looking at him. His simple presence had Harry’s heart slow down as much as it could in a time like this. If Ron continued to be here, that was everything Harry needed tonight.
Five minutes later, Harry was walking up toward the pedestal, his wand in his hand. No one would notice the light tremble in his hand had around it. No one would notice the bead of sweat trickling down his temple and the rising heat itching the back of his neck, making him lightly dizzy. Most of what people were seeing was Harry Potter: Savior of the Wizarding World. And he was that, but he was also the fault of hundreds of deaths, too.
His voice boomed through the park. With his wand to his neck, he was able to begin his speech, which he memorized with Ron. He was used to the attention; it no longer bothered him as it did when he was 15, and no one believed him about Voldemort. Then afterwards, when everyone did believe him. And of course, when the Wizarding World went quiet following the days up until now, Harry is recognized almost every time he goes out.
Harry hated it, but he was atone with it.
“And for that, I’d like to thank all of you for being here to honor those who aren’t.” Harry scanned the crowd, making sure his eyes landed on each individual. “I think about them all every day. I will never sto–” he abruptly stopped. When he landed on Theodore Nott, who had decided to make himself known in the front row next to Ron, everything became clearer. He recognized the mole on Nott’s left cheek, the only thing that stuck from that night, and suddenly, he was speechless.
“Uhm…”
Nott smirked. Ron had noticed Harry looking beside him and looked over at the Slytherin. His eyes went wide.
Ron gaped. “Oh shit.” He drew a few eyes but only briefly.
“Um, I’ll just think– I mean, I do think about them every day.” Harry already said that. He needed to get away from the cameras. He probably looked like an idiot. And Nott’s gaze wasn’t helping at all. “And they will be forever remembered." Harry finally got out to say. “To the fallen!”
“To the fallen!” Everyone said in unison.
Flashes of cameras went off, Harry stayed on the stage for a few seconds, before he hurried off towards Ron. He grabbed his hand and shot Nott (who hadn’t moved) a look that meant he needed to talk to him in private, too. Harry pulled Ron away from the crowd. People were trying to get Harry to talk, but his friends (Hermione, Luna, and Ginny) all shooed them away to give Harry and Ron the ability to be alone.
The two of them found themselves behind a grove of trees.
“You remember now, right?” Harry whispered to Ron. “He’s the guy–”
“How could we have not known it was him?” Ron fell back against a tree, shaking his head. He seemed to be more flustered than surprised. “The first bloke that we–”
“Speaking behind people’s backs is rude, Weasley.” Nott appeared from the shadows. “Especially those you’ve gotten off.”
“Oh Merlin,” muttered Ron.
Harry was too stunned to speak, and he knew that pleased Nott because he continued talking. “I can’t blame you both. It was dark at the nightclub, and you wouldn’t expect a Pureblood there because it was a Muggle one.”
“Please stop talking,” Ron grumbled.
Nott took a step forward, putting himself beside Ron, and ran his hand up his arm, his fingers hooking his tie. Harry watched, his insides stirring with a familiar heat. “Thought you liked that about me, Weasley.”
Harry snapped out of it and yanked Nott’s hand away from Ron. “Enough. What are you doing here? Make us look like fools on the anniversary of the battle? Don’t you have respect?”
“Of course I do,” he snapped. He had a sudden fire in him. “Why do you think I’m here? I’m here to honor my Mother who died by The Dark–” he inhaled sharply. “By Voldemort.”
Harry and Ron exchanged a look. Ron was asking Harry if he knew about this. Harry gave a silent response that meant no. When they looked back at Nott, he looked delicate all of a sudden. He was pulling at his sleeve as a distraction; his look distant and vulnerable.
“Your mum was killed by Voldemort?” Harry questioned gently.
“She was killed under his orders. No one knew; it was ruled as an accidental death. I’ll discuss it no further.” He met both Harry and Ron’s gaze. “I figured both of you would understand not wanting to speak about it.”
“Why are you talking like that?” Ron's blunt questions had always been his downfall.
Theo stiffened. “Excuse me?”
“Like you used to in school,” Ron explained. “All posh and Pureblood-ness.”
“You remember how I was, Weasley?” Theo’s cocky smirk returned. “Thought I was too annoying for you to pay notice.”
“A face like that is hard to ignore,” Harry inserted without thought. “No matter who they used to hang out with.”
Theo’s body turned enough for it to be facing Harry. His back was to Ron, whose eyes were fighting the urge to explore his body. Harry was having the same feeling. The night at the club two years ago had been Harry and Ron’s first time being with a man that wasn’t each other. It had been an agreement they came to when they both realized they were equally as curious about being with someone else. And of course, they thought doing it together would be an interesting thrill, and it had been. Colors were flashing through the room. Bodies on top of bodies grinding against each other while the music pounds his eardrums. Harry and Ron hadn’t been drunk when they both wanted the handsome guy making out with a girl who maintained eye contact with both of them.
It was all messy, but it had Harry’s blood pumping and his entire body vibrating as two hands were on him. Theo was pinned against the wall, Harry’s knee pressed between Theo’s legs. Ron’s hand had gotten to work, snaking down Theo’s body while Theo was doing the same to Harry. Sex-driven kisses were passed between them: Harry leaving dark marks on Theo he’d be reminded of for days, and Ron lazily tugging on Theo’s hair with his free hand.
They never exchanged names. They never really properly saw each other; the red lighting dimmed their faces, but Harry had caught wind of the mole on Theo’s face and the lust-filled look he had in his eyes the entire time. And even after they finished, Theo walked away with a wink.
“Still find me attractive?” Theo’s false innocence made Harry roll his eyes. “No, you’re right. Here isn’t an appropriate time to discuss–” He stopped when Ron raised an eyebrow, silently saying, ‘posh boy.’ “Talk about us.”
“Us?” Harry and Ron echoed.
Theo shrugged and pulled out a napkin from his pocket before shoving it in Ron’s hands. “Muggles were always interesting to me, despite who I was hanging out with. I got a telephone a few years ago, I thought they were… cool.” His lip twitched; a ghost of a genuine smile. “I’m a phone call away, Wizarding World’s ‘It’ Couple. Up to you both if you want to make it.” He went to walk away, but he froze. Instead, he faced both Gryffindors, a frown creasing his forehead. “I didn’t mean to do this tonight. I really am here to honor my mother, even though she’s not mentioned, and support Pansy… I’m sorry to spring the realization on you and my phone number. I’ll see you both around.” He then winked, just like the night they last saw him. “Maybe.” He returned to the crowd.
Ron stared at the phone number while Harry stared at the spot where Theo had just been standing. Even though tonight wasn’t appropriate for this discussion to have unfolded, Theo had distracted Harry from the guilt that was pulling him down. And it seemed to have done the same for Ron because he was too stunned to speak.
“Do we… Do we call?” Harry asked.
“Um.” Ron blinked. “We should ask that question tomorrow.”
“Does that mean I can have another drink?”
Ron nodded, stuffing the napkin into his pocket. “I need one too.”
Harry grabbed his hand. They both returned to the gathering, and Harry knew if Theo was the only thing on his mind, it meant it was for Ron, too.
An assurance that helped him get through the rest of the night, knowing they had a messy conversation waiting for them back at home.