(HP Đồng nhân Eng) Seven Years Too Late

Chap 14

Draco's eyes burned as he moved his arm enough to look at the Gryffindor. "Please go, Harry. I can't take any more tonight," he said in a lost voice.

Harry slowly pushed himself to his feet, but didn't move to the door. Instead, he moved to the end of the bed and lifted Draco's foot, slowly pulling off his boot. He set it on the floor beside the bed.

Draco swiped his cheeks with the heel of his hand.

Harry pulled off the other boot and set it next to the first. Then he unfolded the blanket at the foot of the bed and slowly drew it over the blond wizard. His hand shook as he smoothed down butter blond locks. "I'm sorry. There're so many reasons that I'm sorry," he sighed, no longer just talking about the young girl.

Draco should have been out of tears, but they filled his eyes.

Harry walked to the doorway, stopped once more and looked back at the fragile person on the bed.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again before finally leaving.

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Harry walked through the halls of the Ministry of Magic towards Rufus Scrimgeour's office. He found the tawny haired man, looking tired and worn, leaning back in his chair behind his desk.

Rufus's eyes tracked his Auror's entrance and watched silently as Harry paced the room like a caged dragon. Finally, The-Boy-Who-Lived stopped, placing his hands on the desk before him and looked the older man head on in a direct manner. "I quit."

Scrimgeour eyed the young wizard. He wasn't surprised, really. Potter had made no bones about the fact that he didn't like the way things were run and the older wizard was just getting too damned tired and too damned old to try and convince Harry to stay. "Sure you want to do that?" he asked in a resigned tone.

Harry wasn't sure about much of anything, anymore. "Yeah," he stated after a short pause.

"Shame," Scrimgeour murmured. "I was hoping you would find a reason to stick with us."

"I think I've done enough," Harry responded. He tried to keep his anger out of his voice. Hell, he had defeated Voldemort for fucks sake. He had chased down and caught almost all the errant Death Eaters. He had made the wizarding world safe. What else did they want from him? Suddenly, a vision of him chasing after Snape endlessly came to his mind and he found he just didn't feel like continuing after the Potions Master any longer, especially if it meant losing Draco, again. Let someone else chase after the greasy git, he was done.

"Why? Because you followed a lead that didn't pan out?" Scrimgeour questioned.

It was a gross simplification of all that Harry had, and hadn't done. "You can just send out another Auror. I'll make sure they get all the information I have." Harry turned and walked out the door, returning to Little Whinging with a loud pop.

When daylight rolled around a few hours later, Harry was still awake, sitting in his kitchen while his son and the babysitter were sleeping soundly in the rooms on the floor above him. At least he had assumed he was the only one up and about.

Bundled in a thick robe that she had brought with her, Genma Scalise hobbled into the kitchen and stopped short at the sight of him. "I didn't realize you were here. I didn't hear your vehicle come home last night."

She wouldn't have, Harry had walked home last night.

The older woman sat down at the table across from him.

"Eli and I will be leaving," Harry informed the woman.

"Oh? I thought you liked it here," Genma returned, slightly confused by her employer abrupt confession.