Harry wasn't sure why he was now avoiding going to Beaumont Hall when he knew, in his heart, the place had been calling to him ever since the war, particularly as the call was impossibly strong for the past year. He found another excuse the following weekend because he desperately needed to dedicate the weekend to Teddy because work and his long hours had been taking over.
He took both Teddy and Draco to see Minnie.
'Granny Minnie!' Teddy shouted as she hauled him up onto her hip.
'I'm too old for this,' she muttered. 'Harry, darling... Mr Malfoy...' She kissed Harry on both cheeks before shaking Draco's hand.
'Mum, I think you can call him "Draco" these days.'
'If you insist.'
Draco was fairly certain her lips were pursed in disapproval. It was his first social call with their former professor and he felt surprisingly nervous. Harry had always taken the responsibility of taking or collecting Teddy from Minerva's and, so far, Draco had managed to avoid his weekend trips. He still felt rather intimidated by the woman.
Lunch was pleasant enough, though Draco felt like he was being constantly scrutinised.
Once they finished, they talked about the case with Finch-Fletchley, but only once Teddy had left the table.
'He was a funny sort of boastful boy at school,' she said quietly. 'Reeked of privilege...' she muttered without looking at Draco.
He sighed, 'I suppose I did too...' he felt Harry's leg touch against his comfortingly under the table. He was unsure if Harry was in one of his touchy-feely moods or whether he simply knew that Draco needed the reassurance.
Minerva studied him for a long time. 'Yes,' she said, not beating around the bush. 'But your case was rather different. More your father, than you.'
Draco swallowed heavily. 'I...' he didn't really know what to say.
'Draco,' she said pointedly. 'I came to know that you were much more than your father. I knew full-well about the fake Cruciatus, long before you and Neville Longbottom accosted each other in a dark corridor late one night. The Carrows may have fools but I certainly am not! And I certainly wouldn't have spoken for you at your trial if I didn't believe in you.'
'No,' he said, his eyes wide as he looked at her.
'I also knew that you spent a lot of time with Hagrid and then cared for his animals long after he had to leave us temporarily. Hagrid still speaks highly of you and that man does not choose his friends lightly. That speaks volumes...'
He felt embarrassed, not sure where to take the conversation. He was more than flattered that Hagrid spoke so highly of him, it was just he felt a 'but' coming on. Like he'd never be enough...
'I understand the pressures of belonging to one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families, even if Elphin's family weren't followers of some of the more strigent traditions, he was still under considerable pressure. I will say this, I don't know if Albus did enough to help you; I doubt he did. I know you told the Wizengamot about having to take that journey to learn and I see that. As hard as it is, it is how we learn and if you hadn't, well, you wouldn't be the man you are now. The blessing is that you have learnt. It was clear back then and it is clear now, otherwise my son wouldn't have taken you in under his roof or have brought you here for lunch. You can only compare to Justin because of your backgrounds and that is a choice that neither of you had. It pays us no favours to prejudice about a child's upbringing or class because our society is naturally stratified. Silver spoon or no silver spoon, we should view all as equal. However, when you watch someone try to break the mould and right the wrongs, then they deserve the respect they earn. You earnt my respect in your final year at this school and you have done so ever since.'
'Thank you, professor...' Draco muttered, utterly embarrassed.
'Please call me Minerva.'
'I still brought the Death-eaters into the school, I still... Dumbledore...'
Harry's hand gripped his under the table and he squeezed it tight. Draco knew that Minerva would be able to tell but he couldn't let go.
'And what would the cost have been if you didn't do as you were asked?'
'My parents' lives...' he whispered
'So, at sixteen-years-old, you were asked to make a decision between your parents and the only life that you had ever known, or an old man and life-beliefs with which you had no connection or affiliation. Draco, I understand the decision was terrible but I also understand the choice you made. Or rather, the lack of choice you had. You cannot compare yourself with Justin. His parents, and forgive my damning bluntness, were humbler than yours, they were neither as severely prejudiced or as self-serving as your father. Justin was never forced to follow his beliefs. He chose his path after the war. He chose that others' lives were expendable for his own goals. Harry told me that you were incapable of actually completing the task that you were given. He saw your despair and the shake in your hand, he saw you lower your wand. He showed me the memories of you helping him. And I don't ever forget that you brought me news of Harry in the seventh year...'
Draco looked at Harry. They had never actually spoken about that night on the tower. He'd never told Harry about his conversation with Minerva in the corridor after he'd returned from the Manor. About how much it meant to him, about it being the final confirming moment that everything the Dark Lord and his father stood for was wrong. He realised that they still needed to talk more about the past.
Harry squeezed his hand reassuringly and Draco suddenly felt like he'd been brought to Scotland for approval and he'd just gained it. It meant more than anything but talking about the past cut him down worse that Harry's dark spell in the sixth form. It still hurt, it still made him feel hollow with pain about what he'd been asked to do.
'Excuse me,' Draco said, standing rather rapidly and walking quickly out into Minerva's colourful cottage garden. He knew they would have been able to see the tears that had sprung to his eyes as they talked about his past.
When Harry rose to join him, Minerva said 'let him be for a few minutes. Let him process what we have discussed and re-compose himself. We all battle with our pride at times.' She paused, looking over her son who watched the blond man anxiously through the window. 'You're in love with him,' she said quietly.
'Yes,' Harry answered. 'It's not reciprocated. We're close but he's straight.'
She raised an eyebrow, seeing Harry's shoulders drop for the first time in a long time.
He sighed, 'I'm not sure what to do, mum. It's sending my magic crazy but it's not as if I'd ever ask him to leave. Poor Kreacher has long since given up fixing door handles and he's had to repair the kitchen table twice now. I've taken to discreetly repairing the cracks in the plasterwork that continued to appear and I have to turn all taps on using magic because exploding pipework makes a disastrous mess, especially with the bathroom above the sitting room and having water dripping through the light fitting in crackling sparks and down onto the sofa is not good.'
'Have you talked about it; I mean his orientation?'
'No, I can't bring myself to, in case I'm disappointed. But there's a lot of ambiguity with Draco. He's only ever had relationships with women but there are signs, well, sometimes I think there are. He's certainly never made an overt declaration of interest and I'm more cautious than usual with him. I don't want to ruin our friendship by pursuing something so tentative.'
'Why haven't you talked about the past?'
'We've talked about some it. Some of the bigger incidents but it's sensitive, for both of us,' he sighed.
'Harry, for both of you to trust each other fully, you need to get past these moments. You both need to forgive each other your history to move forward.'
'I have forgiven him. I let go of it all, long ago.'
'You know that's not entirely true,' she sighed. She watched her son carefully.
'I can't do it, mum. I can't go up there.'
'Then you need to talk to Willow about it. You need to understand what is holding you back.'
'I know full well what is preventing me from going up there. I understand completely. It's not what you think,' he spoke quietly and she waited. 'People assume it's because of the deaths, the ghosts of my friends, of Remus and Tonks, Fred, Severus... yes, I hear the noise of the battle... yes, I see the bodies of the dead when I go up there... yes, I still mourn them... but as you said, we all made a choice. It is my choice that haunts me.'
Minerva was aware that Draco had come back in and was hovering in the doorway, listening.
They sat in silence for a while.
'I died there...' he said eventually.
She frowned, 'and in doing so, you saved us. You sacrifice was the bravest, most selfless act any human can make. And you came back...'
'I shouldn't have come back...'
'But we've been through this, you had to because of the Elder Wand...'
'Maybe... maybe not... I'm not so sure these days.' He'd sunk his head into his hands, his elbows on the table, so his voice was slightly muffled. 'You know I don't hold much store in the ridiculous names they give me. And I may sneer or laugh at them but... Master of Death...' he said quietly, not moving from his position. 'I should never have let that information go public. People interpret the meaning to that title in different ways. The most common belief is that because I possessed all three Hallows, I'm immortal. Others suggest that I control Death, that he is at my beck and call. That is, of course, laughable. Or that I am master of my own death so I can control my own destiny, I can choose my time, that is why I was able to come back. Or that I am Death himself, perhaps I have taken that role. Again, no. Death doesn't take life, Death collects the soul and leads it to the next life. No, I came back from my own death stronger, more powerful, and I have the ability to hold others' lives in my hands. That is why I'm the Master of Death: that's the situation I face every day, every time I go out in the field. I have the capability of easily crushing life out of another human being. They are all at my mercy. Do you understand what that means, to hold so much power?'
'But surely, as an Auror...' Minerva said quietly.
'Never,' his voice was small and lowered. 'Not once have I taken another life since that day.'
Minerva watched Draco move forward, his hands gently resting on Harry's shoulders, rubbing them soothingly but Harry did not move.
'The true master does not seek to run away from Death. They accept that they must die. More importantly, they understand that there are far, far worse things in the living world than dying. And the worst thing of all...' he said, a slight questioning to his words. He slowly lifted his head. 'To not be merciful. So, I have chosen life every time since, but there,' he nodded in the direction of the school. 'There, I took a life. That is why I can't go up there. I have tainted my soul by choosing to taking another life. It may have been Tom Riddle; it may have been to save the lives of so many others; but I still chose to take his life and I don't like to be reminded.'
'Dumbledore offered me mercy,' Draco said softly. 'He gave me a choice. He told me I wasn't a killer; he said "you have not killed anyone yet, and you don't have to. The choice is before you". He could have easily defeated me. He knew that. I knew that. But if he'd stopped me, cast a shield and warded me off, well, he knew, didn't he? If he had, it would have ensured my death, instead he gave himself to me but at the same time, offered me forgiveness and saved my innocence. He saved me from the Dark Lord's anger and the soul-scarring act of murder.'
'I know... I was there...' Harry said comfortingly, reaching a hand up and catching Draco's, their fingers automatically interweaving. 'That was confirmation that you were not who people said you were, who you'd shown yourself to be up until that point. The incident in the bathroom was the initial realisation but that was the confirmation.'
Draco spoke quietly but with assurance, 'we're not talking about me...'
'...it's all tied together...'
'...we're talking about you and Riddle. And, really, my point is that Dumbledore could have taken my life, easily. He chose not to. There is a difference between wanting to kill, like Voldemort, or having to kill, like you, and therefore knowing when you have that choice. That is also where the mercy lies, when you kill someone as a last resort. It's time to forgive yourself, Harry. If there had been another option, you would have taken it...'
'What if there was always another option? I was so powered up by the time we came face to face, I'd already initiated the final duel. I grabbed him and pulled him from the battlements. I can't tell you what happened in those moments we connected but it was powerful and dark and I learnt magic far beyond my comprehension. When we landed, the adrenalin mixed with that... I didn't stop to think. When he cast the killing curse again, I forced it back into him... I made him take his own punishment. I should have disarmed him. The wand was mine. I knew it. I told him.'
'But he would never have stopped, Harry. You know that in your heart. You didn't really initiate the final duel. He started all this the day he went to Godric's Hollow and tried to kill you. He was fixated with killing you. He ordered his Death-Eaters not to touch you. He came back from being barely alive, for you. He would never have stopped until he was permanently stopped. I know, believe me, I know. I listened to him rant hour after hour, day after day about you. It was obsessive beyond belief. No, he'd wouldn't have rested until he killed you. You had to do it first and it's time to accept that.'
The hand that wasn't still interlinked with Harry's hadn't stopped moving the entire time Draco talked, carefully rubbing away the tension in his neck. His fingers boldly dipping into Harry's ridiculously soft hair. It was, he realised, probably the reason why it was always such an abominable mess.
Harry removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes before leaning back, his head resting against Draco's chest, his eyes shut.
Minerva watched the two young men and she thought Harry was wrong. She thought Draco was very much in love with Harry, as much as he was with Draco. She felt as if they'd forgotten she was even in the room. It reminded her of their schooldays and the tension between them that hinted at more than their reading of the situation. And she remembered a time, long ago, when she thought that the tension between Harry and Draco was much more akin to James and Lily than it was to the hateful rivalry between James and Severus and she knew she was right. The eye-contact; the odd, heavy atmosphere between them; the staring; the teasing; the gravitating towards one another; the attention seeking. The signs were always there. The competition between them too. And now... she watched as they unconsciously leant towards each other, seeking comfort in one another's touch. She watched, acknowledging that understanding they had of one another and she wondered when on earth they were going to realise and stop dragging the torture out.
She sighed and said aloud, 'shall we take Teddy and Hercules for an afternoon walk?'
They headed away from the school and into Hogsmeade.
'What about Beaumont?' she asked Harry who was carrying Teddy on his shoulders. 'Are you avoiding it?'
'Maybe...' Harry muttered.
'Why?'
He shrugged, heaving Teddy skyward, who giggled. But it was clear he was unwilling to discuss the subject.
'Do you still go walking in the hills?'
'No,' he whispered. 'But they still call me. The house wants me.'
'Then you must go, Harry.'
Draco had stepped forward again, a hand resting gently on the small of Harry's back. He seemed to be able to read Harry, read when he needed that reassuring touch, calm the magic as it started to swell. She was certain they must be soulmates but, yes, the signs had always been there.
'Down!' demanded Teddy, who was currently sporting bright fushia-pink hair despite the looks that they got and the disapproving assumptions about a four-and-a-half-year-old with coloured hair. She glared at anyone who looked as if they'd mention the boy's hair as they headed towards the icecream parlour that Florins Fortescue had opened in the village. She tutted to herself, this was a magical community, they should know better even though Metamorphaguses were rare.
'And what is happening with Pansy Parkinson?' Minerva said as Draco and Teddy went into the shop to choose their icecreams.
'She's changed,' Harry said. 'Considerably. And she's getting better despite the frustratingly slow process with her boss.'
'But Madame Gide is still at the Ministry?'
'Unfortunately. There are no witnesses and no one is willing to come forward. Gide has strenuously denied all charges.'
Minerva tutted. 'I hope you are keeping Pansy safe, Harry.'
Pansy had started to show some of her familiar confidence again, though now, it seemed, she'd lost the snide, bullying, arrogance she used to carry. With that came a dry humour which Harry enjoyed now he was no longer on the receiving end of her sharp tongue.
At the house, Pansy never mentioned the nightmares though she must have heard either him or Draco shouting in the night, nor did she mention the bed sharing, though surely that was just as obvious. She ignored their interactions which continued to border on flirtatious. Harry had noticed that she spent a lot of time with Luna outside of work; meeting up for lunches or going out in the evenings together. But he supposed that Luna was probably one of the least threatening people she could make friends with and he loved Luna all the more for being there without the prejudices of the past. If Pansy had truly accepted Luna for who she was, then Luna could be the best person for Pansy to be friends with.
In the Ministry itself, Neville was there for her too but, after Harry had a quiet word with him, he made it clear he was there as a friend. Perhaps that helped too, Pansy knowing that people were rallying around her but without ulterior motives. She was showing confidence in her work too; her realisation that Harry needed help gave her a purpose and value, especially after the success of her Triple-F research she'd carried out. She was confident enough to return to visiting the Ministry library alone for research, though Hercules tended to accompany her. In the early days she refused to even leave the office alone, it was enough to raise panic in the woman.
A few days after Harry and Draco had visited Minerva, Pansy had been carrying out some research in Ministry library. For once, Hercules wasn't with her otherwise the outcome might have been very different. It was unfortunate, it was one of those situations no one could have predicted but Madame Gide had been in the library too and had seen Pansy.
Because they hadn't found anyone willing to come forward as a witness or an ex-employee willing to press charges, Gide was still free to wander around the Ministry and because time had lapsed between Harry's initial hints that he was coming for her, Gide had begun to get arrogant in her ways, certain she wasn't going to be caught. Maybe that was her mistake...
***