One Chance to Choose

After The War

Harry had killed Voldemort. He had lost friends and had suffered, but he finished his mission. His fate had been sealed. When the Dark Lord died, Harry became a legend for the Wizarding world, an icon for the Ministry. But he had followed his teenager dream as well, to become an Auror, Chief Auror to be exact, one of the youngest ever.

It came as a surprise to her, however, that Draco Malfoy was also an Auror. Furthermore, he was second-in-command. Before the end of the war, Draco had turned to their side.

Since then, Harry and Malfoy were on decent terms. Even if Harry wanted to get closer to Draco for the sake of working together, he wasn't allowed. The blonde, pompous pureblood was now a frozen, solitary wizard.

The day Mad-Eyed Moody died was the same day that Draco saved Ginny. If he hadn't, Harry would have been lost in despair. But he gave him the chance to kill Voldemort. Malfoy then joined the Order. The remaining Death Eaters were now scattered throughout the world, hiding, but never missing the chance for the smallest revenge.

Thinking of the war made Hermione sink into an abyss of memories. An endless, dark pit of nightmares and mourning. It was exhausting and painful so she just closed her eyes and prayed to go back to that deep, peaceful sleep from which she had been awakened in her office.

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Ron saw Hermione leave the office in a fast walk. He stayed there to look around the office for a while: There were photos on Hermione's desk. Some had the Trio –Harry, Ron, Hermione—laughing, while others had her parents and the Weasly family. There were papers all over her desk, books on the floor near the chair. One read 'Adolf Hitler a Wizard?' bellow it said 'Learn How Scientists Think Hitler Controlled People'. There was a book on the chair, leaning on an arm, titled 'Wizards Through the Dark Times'. It was written by Hermione Granger. Ron was about to open it but he remembered that Harry was waiting for him.

He walked out and went to Harry's office, which was in the same floor as hers, at the Second Level. When he got to the door he knocked twice and entered when he heard Harry's voice telling to come in.

Ten steps from the door, there lay a wide, long desk. Behind the desk, on a black leather chair was Harry. He hadn't changed much; hair equally messy (or slightly more), tall, but now with a grown look about him. On one wall there were a few books, some posters of Quidditch, two brooms (his old Firebolt and a Dragon's Tail) and several file cabinets. One had a written label on it, 'Death Eaters'. Besides the cabinets hung a Death Eater's suit, mask and all. On the back of the office there was a fireplace and a mini-bar. Harry wasn't much of a drinker, but he had plenty of important visitors and they were more than glad to share a drink with the Harry Potter. Ron thought that this was a very spacious office; almost as good as the Minister's itself.

"Hello Ron," greeted Harry, interrupting him from his gazing.

"Hi Harry," answered Ron, closing the door behind him. "I went to wake up Hermione." He sat down on one of the comfortable chairs that the office provided.

"Oooh," teased Harry, winking with a wide smile. "So, what happened?" He stared at him in fake innocence.

"Nothing," shrugged Ron casually. During the war, Ron and Hermione had finally started a relationship, but after a year they had decided to break up. She was too busy establishing a career and he had been glad to feel the commitment chains off for a while and focus also in helping Harry clean the wizarding world.

Harry raised an eyebrow as he walked to the mini-bar. "Aha," he said, serving Ron half a glass of Fire Whisky. He handed the drink to Ron while pouring himself Oak-Matured Mead, his friend needed it more than him. He sat down and stared at him. "And what are you going to do?" he asked.

Ron, confused, asked, "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," Harry answered then took a sip from his drink.

Ron's ears went slightly red. "Oh." His eyes went to the floor. "Well, I... I mean- We could..." He raised his head and said in an I-give-up voice. "I don't know. "

They were now twenty years old. Ron had had a crush on her since their first year at Hogwarts and Harry insisted now more than ever that he do something about it, Harry had been encouraging Ron to try and mend things again, but then again it was Ron. "You should make a move," Harry told him. Ron was frowning, thinking hard.

"It's difficult," Ron said. "I mean, we have been friends for a very long time. And everything that happened at the war..." He gulped down what was left of his drink as if trying to swallow down too his thoughts of the war. The sadness that it had marked on them was one of the factors that had caused their relationship to fail.

"If you take forever to ask her out again..." Harry drank. "Somebody is going to ask her first." He gave his best friend a smile.

"I know," said Ron. "But—" he broke off his sentence because a faint knock had come from the door.

A pale head peered behind the door.

Draco Malfoy's stone cold eyes contrasted with his pale skin. His expression was blank, slightly grim but proud.

"Hello Draco," said Harry. "Would you like a drink?" Harry could never get used to calling him in such polite terms, but he owed it to him and with time he had learned to rather respect Malfoy.

"No, thank you," answered Malfoy in cold politeness. "I'm leaving, that's all I wanted to say." His eyes travelled from Ron then back to Harry.

"Oh, alright," said Harry. "Good night Malfoy." Draco bowed his head curtly, turned and left the office swiftly.

When Malfoy's cloak had vanished Ron spoke. "We better go to the Burrow."