Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

What Remains	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6084 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor make profit of it. J.K. Rowling owns it.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
Author's note: When I started writing this chapter, I figured I would barely reach 3K. Somehow it nearly evolved into 6K *coughs* Well, at least it's not too short, right? ^^;
We have arrived at the end; this is officially the last part of the story. With this it's finally finished. Thank you all for giving this story a chance despite the heavy themes in it. Thanks for supporting me through the end. I really appreciate it.
Thanks to the following reviewer: Whitmore
Warnings: explanation of the organisation (sorry if it's boring); some angst; set a few years in the future; flashback; more lighthearted than the rest; MPreg
For the last time in this story: I hope you'll like it!
Part 8: Epilogue
"M-my friend told me about this – this organisation," Helena Wartwick stammered; her long, chestnut brown hair falling across her face like a curtain. She was looking down, nervously twisting her sleeves around her wrists. "I – I didn't know where else to go. I d-don't have a lot of m-money, but I pr-promise I can pay!"
"Don't worry about money right now," Harry said soothingly and plucked an empty file out of the cabinet behind him. Each empty file contained five sheets of parchment, ready to be filled in with the client's information. "Getting you the right potions is more important now. Now can you tell me what exactly happened to you and which potions you need? We'll go over the list together, okay?"
She nodded uncertainly, vibrating with nerves, and her voice shook and faltered as she slowly explained what kind of attack had caused her legs to be badly burned and the nerves in them badly twisted, causing her constant agony whenever she moved.
Harry listened attentively, jotting down every piece of important information she offered. He didn't rush her and waited patiently for her to finish her story. She nearly hyperventilated at some point, but he managed to bring her out of it, kneeling next to her until she had calmed down again and was ready to resume her story.
When she left three hours later, she had a document clenched against her chest which contained a list of potions she would need to be able to function in daily life. All she would have to do was show the list to one of the three Potion Masters manning the Potion Cabinet and she would receive her potions immediately. Her dark blue eyes were red rimmed from the crying she had done earlier, but the smile she threw Harry before she left was tentatively light.
She would get through this; she was a strong woman, of that he was certain.
He closed her file and flicked his wand at one of the cabinets covering the right wall from view. The fourth drawer sprang open and the file neatly slipped between others, automatically ordered alphabetically.
Rolling his shoulders to get some kinks out of it, he slowly exhaled, enjoying the silence in his office. The Sound Cancel Charm ensured that outside noise couldn't reach the room, but others couldn't listen in on the conversations taking place here either. Privacy was something he thought to be very important so every step had been taken to ensure that the clients of Ascar didn't need to worry about their private lives leaking out.
Ascar was short for Affordable Care for Scars; it was the organisation Harry had set up three years ago, ten months after he had been attacked. The name might be odd, but he had wanted something that clearly stated what his organisation was meant for and after various nights of brainstorming he had eventually come up with that name, forming the acronym almost immediately afterwards.
One year after the start it had become quite well known and today Harry had quite the extensive client base with new clients being added every week. Ascar was essentially comprised out of two departments: the Potion Cabinet where people could receive their needed potions at a decent rate, adjusted to an amount they could afford to pay and the Level Mind Floor where people could speak to specialised Healers and receive the needed support to work through whatever psychological problems they experienced due to the scarring they had received.
The Level Mind Floor consisted out of several groups people could join depending on which issue they wanted to work on. Group A was meant for people with low self-esteem who needed help with coming to terms how they looked like now or felt like. Through exercises and private sessions the Healer worked on restoring their self-esteem. Group B taught people ways how to deal with the sudden changes in their lives that the scarring brought with it. Group C was for people whose magic acted out due to their wounds; they learnt how to better control their magic and made it do what they wanted it to do and not the other way around.
In Group D people could talk with a Healer if they simply needed to get something of their chest and they couldn't – for whatever reason – talk about it with either friends or family. No matter what they wanted to discuss, whether it was tied to them being scarred or simply because they needed someone to listen, they found a listening ear there.
Group E was special in the sense that it didn't offer any help for the mind, but it was focused on the physical aspect. People could go there to relearn how to walk if they had been immobile for a long time. The Healer helped them stretch their muscles to prevent them from further deteriorating, aided them in moving around; in short gave them the necessary tools to move independently again.
It hadn't been easy to find Healers willing to work for the organisation only. Given the amount of clients it wasn't feasible for a Healer to combine their work at the organisation with that of the hospital. Added to that was the fact that they needed specific knowledge depending on which group they wanted to lead and the majority of the Healers Harry had interviewed had only had the basic knowledge.
Honestly Harry had started to despair whether he would ever find Healers suitable for his organisation. That was until Narcissa had reached out to her contacts in Germany, France and several other countries. Harry hadn't even known how extensive the Malfoys' network was actually until word had spread out about his organisation and he had been flooded with letters of Healers interested in joining him.
In the end he had weeded out the applicants until two Healers for each group remained, having decided that two people manning each group would divide the workload better.
Finding Potion Masters for the Potion Cabinet had been both easy and difficult. Easy in the sense that he already had a Potion Master willing to work with him – that being Draco who had looked offended at the idea that Harry might not have asked him – and Potion Masters working for the organisation only had to have knowledge of potions. They didn't need any specialised knowledge like the Healers were obliged to have. The only requisite had been that they needed to be willing to brew every potion found in the organisation's list. If they could develop new potions that would even be better.
Despite the fact that Potion Masters didn't need to have any special knowledge, Harry had had a difficult time finding ones willing to work with him. Most Potion Masters were used to brewing potions privately and asking huge sums of the buyer if they decided that a particular potion was expensive.
Considering the fact that Ascar didn't label their potions with expensive prices in order to give people who were less fortunate actually a chance to buy their needed potions, not many Potion Masters had been interested in working with Harry. They sneered at the thought of selling their potions at a cheap price and adamantly refused to work for the organisation.
Having a partner who moved around in high social circles did have its benefits, though, even if Harry was reluctant to admit that. During one of the gatherings Draco had asked around if anyone knew a Potion Master interested in working for the organisation and the inquiry had even reached other gatherings in Scotland and Ireland.
It had remained quiet for nearly a month until Harry had woken up on a warm September morning, a month before the organisation would officially invite clients, and found ten letters from Potion Masters spread out over the entire United Kingdom.
Draco had helped him wade through the selection and had conducted the interviews with Harry sitting next to him. Having only the most basic skills in potions, Harry had left it up to Draco to discern whether or not the woman or man in front of them would make a good fit for the organisation.
Eventually two Potion Masters – a man named Liam Willems and a woman named Kathrine Moonshine – had survived the selection with a third guy (a greying man named Henry Phils) springing in whenever a shortage of some potions threatened to happen.
On the thirty-first of October, ten months after Greenling had attacked him, Ascar officially opened its business for people with permanent scars and or injuries. At first people had been rather hesitant, clearly uncertain what to think of the new organisation, but once word got out from people who had become clients and were happy with the treatment they received, the organisation bloomed, shocking everyone who had criticised the idea.
Leading an organisation of this size and chasing criminals had become impossible after a while and Harry had made the decision to resign at the Ministry seven months after he started leading Ascar. Kingsley had been disappointed to have one of his best Aurors resign – especially when Harry had been on track to becoming the youngest Head Auror in history – but he had accepted it and even sent Aurors to Harry's organisation if they sustained heavy injuries during a mission.
Draco had been quite ecstatic when Harry had announced that he would retire from being an Auror. He had never really hidden his dislike about Harry risking his life during missions, but had quietly confessed that he was very relieved that the dark haired man would stop chasing criminals in exchange for leading Ascar.
Harry was the one who welcomed new clients and kept their personal information in files. He explained what options they had depending on the injury or scar and made sure to keep their files up to date. Hermione sometimes helped him if he had a lot of appointments waiting for him.
Some people only needed the organisation's help for a short time; the potions and aid they received enough to get them through a hard time. Others were likely to need the organisation for years and either was fine.
Harry just wanted to help people in a similar situation like his and it gave him a good feeling to see the wonder on their faces when they experienced no pain for the first time in a long while or the grateful smiles when they realised that they could actually afford their potions now. He might not make the world safer anymore by catching criminals, but he was making people's lives better by providing the care they desperately needed and somehow that felt even better.
A knock on the door jarred him out of his memories and he blinked, sitting up straighter. "Yes?"
Sofia Bealing popped her head inside; a small smile playing around her red tinted mouth. She was one of the two Healers appointed to lead Group C and she did that with such enthusiasm and sincere care that every client always left with a smile.
"I have finished my appointments for today, so I'm heading off, Harry," she announced, wrapping a sapphire blue scarf around her neck. She only lived a couple of streets away, so she preferred to walk if the weather wasn't too awful. "I'll be back tomorrow at eight thirty."
"Enjoy the rest of your day," Harry smiled and she waved before closing the door behind her again.
He would leave soon too; Helena Wartwick had been his last appointment for today and there wasn't any pressing task left.
Idly he rubbed his jaw and stilled when his index finger brushed against the jagged edges of his scar. Today it had been exactly three years since his face became heavily scarred due to the assault. The scars hadn't lessened; they still looked the same as they had done the day Healer Calling had removed the compression mask of his face before sending him home.
These scars were the main reason why he had set up his organisation. Being forced to live with the result of an attack, resigned to having people stare at him because of how he looked now, had made him realise that the Wizarding World wasn't really prepared to deal with people who had no hope of having their injuries or scars cured by potions or spells. There were people like him who had to live with the scars and injuries day after day, because magic couldn't solve everything. Despite the wonders magic could perform, it had its limits and that was something most wizards and witches didn't seem – or want – to realise.
With his organisation, Harry wanted to give people a place to belong, a place where they wouldn't have to worry they would be judged by how they looked like or move or spoke. Here they wouldn't have to worry that they couldn't afford their potions; in this place they had people ready to talk with them, provide them support that they might miss in their daily life. Here they were reminded that they were human beings just like everyone else, even if a part of their body or their entire body was marred.
Nobody looked down on them here or made fun of them or insulted them. They could be at ease here. Here they received the confirmation that they were normal, not freaks like they feared they were.
Harry wished he could say he was completely confident again, that he no longer thought he was freak and had accepted his scars wholly. He hadn't. Not really. Maybe he would never accept them. There were days when he didn't want to get out of bed, had absolutely no desire to face the world and endure the stares and the whispers. Days when he could barely look at himself in the mirror without being overwhelmed by grief and fury at the same time, leaving him shaking and his magic buzzing closely to the surface.
Moments when he wondered whether Draco really hadn't been lying when he said he still loved Harry, that he still desired him and wanted to spend the rest of their lives with him.
Times when he wanted nothing but to claw at his face in hopes of finally ripping away those disgusting scars.
When he felt like he was drowning in a pool of pure helplessness and thinking he would never get out of it. Feeling utterly worthless and ugly, like the freak the Dursleys had often sneered he was. Insecurity wrapping its ugly tendrils around him, threatening to haul him down and hold him there.
It wasn't easy. It wasn't easy to look in the mirror and tell himself that he was strong, that he had survived this, that nobody would ever pull him down unless he let them. Difficult to assure himself that Draco loved him and wanted him, despite the scars. Almost impossible to believe that Draco had no problems touching him and kissing him, not the slightest hint of disgust tainting his silver grey eyes.
But then Draco would appear behind him, lock their eyes together in the mirror and wrap his arms around his waist, pressing their bodies closely together as he trailed kisses over every patch of skin he could reach, whispering, "I love you.", and it became more bearable; the dark thoughts sinking down once more.
Draco's kisses, touches and declarations of love weren't an instant cure-it-all for his insecurities. They couldn't erase all the dark thoughts immediately or restore his self-esteem fully once more.
But they helped. They worked as a reminder that he couldn't let the dark thoughts consume him; that he had someone who loved him even with all his flaws.
His journey was still long, but he was working on it. And bit by bit he would get better; he had to believe in that.
The weak January sunlight caught on something on his finger and a quick flash of gold danced across the opposite wall before Harry stirred and moved his hand out of the sun. Green eyes glanced down and unwillingly a soft smile blossomed open on his face as he gazed at the golden ring adorning his ring finger; a memory unfolding in his mind like a flower opening its petals in the morning.
A salty breeze rustled the golden coloured sand; water rippled kissing the sand before retreating once more. The sunset cast a myriad of gold, purple, rose and red colours on the ocean; some lonely birds flew in the distance high in the air.
There were only two people on the beach. A blond haired man talking softly to his lover; one of his hands idly caressing the other man's thigh as they sat on a large blanket.
"Did you enjoy your birthday?" Draco inquired. Grey eyes glinted silver and blue as the dying sun fell on them.
Harry placed his glass of champagne – one which was rather fruity and bubbly – behind him in the basket that had held both their lunch and dinner and smiled; his own hand resting closely against Draco's hip. "I loved it," he said and shivered when fingers briefly dipped down, slipping briefly underneath his short and caressing the sensitive skin there. "It's the best birthday I've had so far."
"I'm glad to hear that," Draco hummed and leant closer to kiss Harry softly; the sharp taste of the champagne lingering on his mouth making Harry's lips tingle pleasantly.
When Harry had woken up this morning Draco had whisked him away to the closest Apparition point, which had landed them in a small alley somewhere in downtown London. An empty picture frame had been waiting for them on a low wall and when Harry had placed his fingers on it, the Portkey deposited them onto this beautiful, quiet beach. It belonged to the Malfoy family, Draco had explained as Harry looked around in wonder at the towering palm trees and flowers bursting with bright colours. It was a small island somewhere near the coast of France, warded heavily and hidden away from the Muggle world.
For several hours they had explored the island; the blond content to follow Harry as he marvelled at the flowers and other plants he encountered on their path. Birds had chirped and tweeted and twittered madly in the trees and bushes and Harry had even seen something that looked like a fox rushing past them.
Eventually they had wandered down to the beach where Draco had retrieved an elaborate and delicious lunch out of the basket he had brought with him; the food made up only out of Harry's favourite dishes. After they were done eating, they had explored the ocean, swimming and chasing each other. Their laughter had filled the air whenever one of them caught the other one and their kisses had tasted like salt.
They had rested on the beach afterwards, exchanging lazy kisses and soft caresses; even falling asleep for a while. When they had woken up, Draco had brought their dinner out of the basket, displaying the various dishes between them. They each took turns feeding the other one and Harry had felt giddy as fingers brushed across lips and quick kisses were stolen between sips of champagne.
Today honestly felt magical and it made Harry blush with pleasure that Draco had done all this just for him.
Lips trailed softly across his right temple and Harry hummed when a warm hand settled on his hip; a thumb rubbing across his hipbone.
"I have something for you," Draco murmured and his mouth retreated.
"Hm?" Harry opened his eyes, not aware he had closed them in the first place, and gazed curiously at the blond wizard.
Draco darted a quick smile at him before he leant past him and rummaged through the basket. Having just eaten dessert, Harry wondered what else the basket held if it wasn't food.
He stilled when a small, dark blue box was presented to him, offered on a pale hand. With his other hand Draco slowly opened it, revealing a silver ring with three emeralds pressed into the band. The gems caught the sunlight and glittered faintly.
Slowly Harry raised his head, staring speechlessly at Draco.
Underneath his stare Draco straightened up, but he faced him with nothing but fierce determination. If he felt nervous, he didn't show it.
"Harry, we've been together for two years now and we've had our ups and downs," Draco started; his voice ringing clearly in the air. The birds had gone silent; now there was nothing but the sound of wind and water accompanying them.
"We have had fights that sometimes made me wonder whether that was it, that was the moment we couldn't go on anymore and would break up. But we didn't. No matter how fierce our arguments could get, we didn't let it get to us. We got through them and now we're here; still together. When I heard you were attacked - for one frightening moment I thought I had lost you." Draco swallowed and closed his eyes for a few seconds before he continued, "It was at that moment that I realised I couldn't imagine my life without you anymore. From the moment I heard of you, you had dug yourself a part into my mind and my heart even if you didn't know it at the time. I thought I had screwed up any chance I had when we met again on the train and I can't thank you enough for giving me a second chance. You didn't have to, but you did. The attack made me realise how afraid I am of losing you. It made me realise just how deeply you had ingrained yourself in my life and that thought should be scary, but it isn't. Not to me."
By now Harry's mouth hung open in shock and he was aware he must look like an idiot now, but his voice had left him and he couldn't seem to move, entranced by the words leaving Draco's lips.
"Harry James Potter, I love you. I will always love you. I can't imagine the rest of my life without you and I don't even want to contemplate having you not in my life. You're the only one for me; the only one that I desire and want and I won't allow anything or anyone to take you away from me. Not an attack, nor scars. Nothing. You are the most beautiful person I have ever met, both in mind and body, and I only want to make you happy. I want to see you smile; I want those gorgeous green eyes to lit up with happiness and know I'm the cause of it. I want you to know that I will always be there for you, get you back up when you're down. I won't ever betray you or leave you; this I swear on my magic."
The ring was carefully plucked out of its small pillow and held up between thumb and index finger. Silver grey eyes locked onto emerald green ones solemnly. "Harry, will you do me the honour of marrying you?"
Tears trickled down Harry's cheeks, prickling his cheeks and obscuring his sight. Disbelief and wonder warred with each other until wonder and the overwhelming feeling of love for the blond man in front of him filled him to the brim and he rapidly nodded, laughing watery as he held out his hand.
"Yes, I want to marry you!"
Grey eyes widened in amazement before a bright smile bloomed open on Draco's face, lightning it up and he slipped the ring around Harry's ring finger before tangling a hand in dark hair and drawing Harry closer to him.
Their kiss was full of promise for the future.
They had married on the twentieth of January the next year. That date had been a deliberate decision on Harry's part. It was the day he had been attacked a year prior, but he was determined to not let Greenling win and had decided he would override the horror of that day by having his wedding on that same day. Now the twentieth of January was no longer simply the day he had been assaulted – it had become the day he had married the man he loved.
They had been married for two years now today and Harry knew they would only get better with each day that followed.
His wand vibrated with the Alarm Charm he had cast a few hours prior and he blinked, glancing at the clock on the left wall. Time to go then.
He had his own appointment with someone.
Parkinson blew a lock of her dark hair off her nose before it drifted back down and she impatiently pushed it behind her ear.
"Maybe hairpins can help," Harry remarked amused and chuckled when she shot him a dark look.
Interacting with the Malfoys had made him largely immune against glares; hers couldn't even come close to the venomous ones Draco could give someone if they pissed him off enough.
"I thought you helped the scarred people; since when are you in any place to give fashion advice, Potter?" she sneered and stepped back with an absentminded nod as she finished waving her wand. A piece of parchment popped into existence next to her on the table and writing slowly filled the blank surface.
He didn't feel offended by the rather callous remark. That was just how Parkinson was. He had started to get to know her better once it had become clear that the relationship between him and Draco was serious. His relationship with her was rather unique; they snipped and snapped and threw sharp jabs at each other, but unlike during their years in Hogwarts, there wasn't any real underlying hatred in their remarks to each other. It was simply how they interacted with each other. They hadn't hang out with each other a lot during the past few years, mainly because their jobs kept them both busy, but they were comfortable around each other.
She had also been one of the few who hadn't regarded him with disgust or pity after he had been attacked.
"I'm a jack-of-all-trades," Harry quipped dryly. "Giving fashion advice is but one of them."
"Uhuh." She threw him an unimpressed look. "Leave the fashion advice to either Blaise or Draco, Potter; they're much better suited for it," she drawled; her dark eyes trailing thoughtfully over the paper.
He leant forwards; curiosity burning brightly in him. "And?" he asked softly, growing solemn. His fingers wrapped themselves around the edges of the examination table.
She glanced at him and smirked; her white shirt crinkling when she shifted a bit, revealing a glimpse of her cleavage. "Don't know why you're worried so much. Did you really think it wouldn't take?"
"Magic can be unpredictable," he commented and shrugged, leaving it at that.
She nodded thoughtfully, reaching back to tie her long hair into a loose ponytail. "I guess that's true," she acquiesced and plucked the parchment of the table, brandishing it in front of Harry. "See for yourself."
A lump blocked his throat and he blinked some tears away, wiping them off with a trembling hand as he read the conclusion on the paper.
"Thanks, Parkinson," he said in a rough voice; eyes fixated on the parchment.
"Not like you didn't test it yourself first," she sighed and patted his shoulder. "Now get the hell out of my office. Your Gryffindor sentimentality makes me want to puke and I can't have that happening, Potter. These shoes are new and no way in hell am I going to fuck those up by barfing all over them."
Harry laughed and slid off the table, snatching his coat from the chair on his way to the door.
"Oh, and Potter?"
He looked back, quirking an eyebrow.
She was already seated behind her desk; a quill twirling between her slender fingers. She smirked, leaning her chin on her fist. "I expect pictures of when you tell him."
He left then, feeling lighter than ever before.
"I have something for you," Harry said, later that evening when he and Draco were curled up in bed. Both were only dressed in a shirt and boxers, but their shared body heat underneath the covers was more than enough to keep them protected against the cold draft sneaking into cracks near the window.
They would have to cast new protection charm on the walls with windows soon unless they wanted to waste heat.
"Another anniversary present?" Draco smiled bemused, leaning on his right side as his left hand trailed idly up and down over Harry's side. It brushed across Harry's ribs, before dipping down and stroking the skin around his hipbone and then going up again.
"You could say it's like that," Harry hummed and smiled secretly as he turned around, hearing Draco utter a sound of dismay when he no longer felt Harry's skin underneath his hand.
It didn't take long to find it. Earlier he had put it in the top drawer before preparing dinner. When he turned back around, he held a folded paper in his one hand and a small, clear bottle in his other hand. The bottle contained a dark pink liquid, but Harry's fist was closed around it, hiding the dark pink colour from view.
First he handed the paper over to Draco, who accepted it slowly. He regarded Harry curiously, but when Harry silently gestured for him to open the paper, he did so; grey eyes roving across the parchment as he read what was written on it.
Harry noticed the moment comprehension dawned on Draco and he smiled softly. The blond's head shot up and stared at him shocked.
"Are you – is this serious? Is this real?" he choked out, waving the paper in the air.
The dark haired man nodded and unfurled his fist, revealing the bottle. "I took the test yesterday and went to Parkinson this afternoon to confirm it," he said softly, watching how tears created glistening trails on Draco's cheeks as he stared in wonder at the bottle. "I'm – it's real, Draco. This is – I'm pregnant. I'm ten weeks far. You're going to be a father."
His breath left him in a soft 'whoosh' and he found himself on his back on the bed before he realised what was happening, blinking up at Draco who hovered above him with such a look of pure wonder and adoration that it made Harry's breath hitch. This time it was his turn to stare wide eyed at the other man.
"Fuck, I love you so much," Draco swore and hands cupped Harry's cheeks, framing his face, before a pair of lips hungrily devoured him, drowning him with the passion his husband was pouring into him. "I love you so god damn much! You're pregnant!" He laughed wildly, burying his face in Harry's neck as his body trembled. "You're having my baby! We're going to be parents!"
"Yes, we are," Harry smiled and blinked back tears of his own as he wrapped his arms around Draco's shoulders.
Three months ago they had decided to try and have a baby. They had talked about becoming pregnant for a while before that; Draco explaining all the options they had if they decided to go through with it. At first Harry had been reluctant – not because he didn't want children, but because his irrational mind had insisted that he couldn't subject his child to having a parent who looked like him. Children – and people in general sadly – could be quite vicious; what if his own child would be tormented because of how his dad looked like?
The moment those poisonous thoughts had slipped into his mind had been the same moment he had decided that he might need more professional help to deal with his insecurity and self-esteem issues. He had had several sessions with one of the Healers working at his organisation, working through his problems and talking about them. Mostly talking about them. Sometimes Draco had joined him, sometimes not.
They both had decided that as long as Harry was following the sessions and he didn't feel up to it yet, they would put their children wish on hold. It had been a frustrating, but necessary decision.
Harry needed to give those poisonous thoughts a place first and do his best to defeat them before he could start worrying about a potential child.
He had never been a quitter and while those dark thoughts still popped up, some weeks more than others, he felt more confident that he could actually deal with them, partly thanks to Draco's and his friends' never ending support.
Then the day had arrived that he felt actually ready for a child for the first time and after discussing it in even deeper detail, Draco had brewed the potion and Harry had ingested it. Being the more powerful one of the two when it came to magic, they had agreed that Harry would be the one to carry the baby in order to heighten their chances of success.
And now it had happened. He was pregnant; carrying their baby for ten weeks already.
It had been a long road for him and the journey wasn't over yet, but he was getting there. Slowly. One step at a time.
"I love you," Draco whispered and the shining, grey eyes drew Harry in.
"I love you too," he murmured and closed his eyes, feeling the love Draco had for him, for their baby, covering him like a blanket.
He wouldn't have it easy. There would be days when the darkness would threaten him, trying to drag him down. Days when he would question himself and everyone else who loved him.
But he would survive those days. He wouldn't let them win. He had Draco, their baby, Draco's parents, the Weasleys, his friends … He had support, people who would catch him should he fall.
He wasn't alone anymore.
Yes, he would get there, travel further on his journey with his loved ones at his side.
One step at a time.
AN2: I promised you all a happy ending, right? This fic had a lot of angst, but like I said: there's light at the end of the tunnel. Harry still has a way to go but he's going to get there; of that you can be sure.
I hope this chapter wasn't too bad ^^; Please leave your thoughts behind in a review for the last time; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
I hope to see you all in my future works!
Cuddles
Melissa
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What Remains