Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Returning to Sanity	By : AchillesTheGeek Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 31212 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter books or films, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
9. Hope Returning
Wednesday, May 6 1998
Harry Potter was having a wonderful day.
It hadn't started like that; when he got up it was an overcast day, threatening rain, and he was in a mood to match. When he got downstairs he found Ron and Hermione already eating and chatting about their visit to the Manor during the morning.
Brilliant, he thought bitterly. I won't even have their company today!
The twins took one look at him moping over the breakfast table and decided that drastic action was called for.
"Hey Harry," George said as he ruffled his hair, "want to come over to the shop with us this morning?"
"Is it open again?" he asked, a note of hopeful excitement in his voice.
"Um, not exactly," they replied, "Diagon Alley suffered a lot at the hands of Death Eaters, and it's still a bit of a mess. / We could use a hand cleaning it up, though. / Getting it ready and all. / We're planning on having a grand opening as soon as we can!"
Harry laughed at the way the conversation switched between them so easily. He actually felt happy about the thought of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes opening again. It reminded him that sooner or later things were going to return to normal (whatever that was going to mean!); right now was a strange time of funerals and cleaning up, but the world definitely needed the exuberant fun that the twins' business would bring.
And for today, going to Diagon Alley sounded like a lot more fun than sitting around the Burrow being bored.
"Of course I'll come," he answered with enthusiasm.
They apparated over straight after breakfast. Auror cover was provided by Auror Proudfoot, who encouraged them to forget all about him; he told them he would be around but not intrude. Harry had half-hoped Auror Banks would come, but apparently he was going to the Cottage later that morning with the remaining Weasleys. Proudfoot said this with a strange smile on his face, and Harry wondered if there was something he was missing. But he had other things to think about.
Diagon Alley was a mess, and Harry was heart-broken to see what had happened to so many of his favourite places after the Death Eaters had wreaked havoc.
"Don't worry, Harry, / it's not all as bad as it looks," the twins assured him, George throwing an arm over his shoulder. "But we are going to need help. / We put up some strong charms to protect the buildings / but we had Mad-Eye before, and we need the extra strength to undo them."
"I don't understand, how can -" Harry began.
"Oh you will," they answered straight away. "Let's start with Fortescue's."
They stood in front of the ice-cream shop that Harry loved so much. He had such fond memories of studying here in third year, having escaped from the Dursleys', and Florean Fortescue feeding him ice-cream sundaes every half-hour. But Florean had been taken off by Death Eaters, never to return, and his shop looked like a bombed-out wreck.
"Just point your wand at the shop / and use the incantation Rediread sanitatem!"
The three of them chanted the spell together. Harry gasped as the twisted shop-front started to unwind and move out, and the walls behind became straight. In minutes, the building was basically sound again; the roof, which had caved in, managed to restore itself to its familiar jaunty angle, and all that was needed was a good paint job and the place would be good as new.
Harry's jaw dropped, and his eyes opened as wide as they could go. This had to be one of the most impressive pieces of magic he had ever seen. "How did you do that?" He asked in awe, a bemused but delighted look on his face.
"When we started up in Diagon Alley, we got word the Death Eaters were planning something big, / so Mad-Eye had this brilliant idea. / He roped us in and put spells on all the important stores so if they got destroyed, / we could fix them again!"
Brilliant idea, indeed. And amazingly well executed. Not surprising, perhaps, since Mad-Eye had had a hand in it. Harry knew he had been regarded as one of the best Aurors there'd ever been, and was a sad loss to the wizarding world in general, and personally to each of the three of them. But Harry refused to dwell on such thoughts. He hadn't cast these spells for them to get all maudlin about his death. No, this brilliance was to be celebrated.
As if on cue, a sunbeam burst through the clouds, lighting up the shopfront.
"Wicked!" he exclaimed with unrestrained joy. The twins were confused; "wicked" was exactly what it wasn't! But clearly Harry meant it as a good thing, so they guessed it must be some quaint Muggle turn of phrase he'd picked up. They too were very excited, so they just accepted his words with pleased smiles; they had not missed the slight flicker as he'd thought about Mad-Eye, though they didn't know that was what it was; but seeing him that happy again was what mattered.
"We tried to restore things on Sunday but we weren't strong enough without Mad-Eye."
"Sunday? But we were at home, resting?" Harry wondered.
"Sh!" the twins said, "not all of us, / not all the time, alright? / But don't tell Dad, / he gets upset if people apparate away without telling Mum. / Now, are you going to help us with the rest of the Alley?"
"Of course!" Harry agreed without hesitation, "That was BRILLIANT!"

They worked hard all morning and by half past ten, many of Harry's favourite shops were solid and sound again, and several of the shop-owners had returned. They had mostly been staying in the Leaky Cauldron, their houses above the shops not being habitable, and had come out to see what all the noise was about. Harry watched their faces and his heart sang to see the hope returning as they saw their shops being fixed.
Floriana Fortescue, Florean's daughter, cried tears of joy upon seeing her father's shop repaired. Of course, Harry realized, it was her shop now, since Florean was gone. He hoped she'd keep the name though; She waved her wand in an incredibly intricate pattern and, far more quickly than Harry had dared to believe possible, the shop was redecorated and ready for business. She placed a large sign above: Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, it proclaimed, in crimson and gold.
"I'm never going to change the name," she said with a wistful but happy expression. "I'm so proud of him, and I want everyone to remember that he stood up to Death Eaters right here in front of his shop."
Harry was delighted to discover that she was as happy as her father to offer him free ice-cream. As it turned out, this made good business sense as well: many witches and wizards, having somehow got wind of the fact that something was going on, had turned up and they all wanted to be photographed eating an ice-cream with 'the great Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World'.
Ordinarily, Harry would have hated the fuss, but when ice-cream was involved, he was happy to take one for the team. Or in fact, several. Harry got through quite a few ice-creams before the twins decided that they needed to take action. Not that they begrudged him the treats; they'd actually decided that their mission for today was getting him out of the funk he had started the day in, and keeping him out of it. So far, they reckoned they had been riotously successful. But if they stayed out in public it was only a matter of time before Rita Skeeter or one of her cronies turned up and spoilt Harry's day.
"Hey, little brother, how about we go and check out the shop?" Fred suggested. Harry's face lit up, and he stood up and thanked Floriana for her kindness. She handed him a cone to go and made him promise to come back soon. Then the twins linked their arms through his and the three of them sauntered over to the shop. Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes had not suffered much, and they had managed to repair the façade easily. Fred and George told him that they had popped along on Sunday, so the place was already habitable and they had even found a caretaker to watch over it for them.
"Anyone I know?" Harry asked, trying to sound off-hand; but actually he was dying to know everything that the pair had been up to. He was really enjoying the day. Being with the twins was like being permanently on holiday, he decided.
"Wait and see." George replied, with a sly smile.
"Here we are then!" Fred announced cheerily as they walked in.
"'Bout time, too," came a familiar voice.
"Neville!" Harry exclaimed, as Neville Longbottom came out of the inner rooms and onto the shop floor. Harry rushed over to give his friend a huge hug, which was returned with gusto.
"You've done a splendid job, Neville!" George enthused. Harry was a bit surprised; not really like George to be gushy; he looked at him with concern; did he looked a bit flushed? Was he coming down with something?
"You alright, big brother?" he asked.
"Never better, little brother," George replied, with a wink and a wide grin.
Fred suggested they make a start on sorting out a great heap of products that had got thrown together in the middle of the floor.
"That'll take weeks!" Harry groaned.
The others chuckled. The twins responded, "The problem with you, Harry, is that / being brought up by Muggles, -"
"- you will forget about magic!" It was Neville who finished the thought, so naturally and immediately that it was as if the twins had suddenly become triplets. The three of them waved their wands together and the items in the heap suddenly took on a life of their own, zooming wildly around the shop. Harry laughed maniacally; it was like being back on the Quidditch pitch, avoiding bludgers, only without a broomstick. He ducked and weaved and jumped to avoid being hit; he suspected that the three were aiming at him on purpose, but he couldn't help bouncing back up in his joy at the sheer exuberance of the magic.
In no time at all, the shop was back to rights. Harry was breathless; it took him five minutes of huffing and puffing, cackling the whole time, to get back to normal. While he did so, George and Fred wove some charms together, and the decor changed from what the muggles called 'shabby chic' (a polite way to say 'train wreck', Harry thought) to an inspired combination of golds, reds and purples. It was gaudy, outlandish, over the top, and absolutely perfect for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.
"Wow!" said Harry, turning on the spot as he took in all the pure, almost childish, joy that the place seemed to exude. "You could have your grand opening today!"
"We thought we'd leave it till the weekend," Fred replied, "you know, mark of respect and all that." Not wanting to give any of them a chance to dwell on such thoughts, he squinted through the shop window and took a look outside. The crowd had dispersed nicely; there were a few passers-by, but by the looks of it, most people had gone into the shops. "Looks a bit less crowded, fancy another ice-cream, Harry?" he asked with a grin.
Harry Potter, having been starved of sugar as a child, had never been known to refuse such an offer. Even though he'd lost count of how many he'd already consumed today, this, he decided immediately, was not going to be the first time. The two of them wandered back over to Fortescue's, where two huge ice-cream sundaes appeared as they sat at one of the tables. It was only when they'd sat down and he'd wolfed half his chocolate and raspberry sundae with chopped nuts that it occurred to him that, of the three others, only Fred was with him.
"Where are George and Neville?" he asked.
Fred gave him a sly look, reminiscent of the one on Auror Proudfoot's face before, when Harry had asked about Robin Banks. "I think they might have found something else to do."
"Oh," Harry said. "Well, I guess they miss out on ice-cream, then. Or do you think we should take some back for them?"
Fred grinned. There was no mistaking that look: pure mischief. "That, Harry, is such a good idea ..."

Neville had been very busy sorting out the living quarters, and George was very impressed. They had asked him to set up separate bedrooms: at the Burrow, they had always slept in a room together, but they both had plans that would make it, ah, inconvenient, to continue the practice. Accordingly, Neville had cleaned up and furnished two rooms which George came and inspected. He was enjoying playing landlord. Fred's room was light blue and orange, a combination he would not have chosen himself, but which worked, somehow. He knew Fred would like it.
His own room was lilac and green. Very tasteful, George decided. This one was definitely a keeper. And, he noticed, Neville was also getting a little bit flustered standing in another man's room. And his trousers seemed to be just a little tight all of a sudden.
"Um, George, I, um..." Neville began. How do you do this? He wondered. How do you tell another bloke you've had a mad crush on him for years?
"Yeah," said George. "Me too."
He moved closer to the caretaker. A little closer than was quite polite and definitely intruding on Neville's personal space. Neville noticed (it would have been difficult not to) and looked up slowly. There was no mistaking the lust in George's eyes; it was enough to rob him completely of self-control, and the two practically crashed together in an embrace of mutual longing. All of a sudden, they were kissing, though for a moment Neville found himself wondering how they had managed the coordination to actually meet each other's lips. But after that, all thought seemed to fly out of his head, and all Neville knew was that it was the most amazing experience he had ever had. Their mouths worked against one another, opened for each other, their tongues stroked and pressed together as hands moved to shoulders and arms, caressing and squeezing.
Eventually, George decided that he really did need to breathe, and they broke apart; reluctantly, on both sides. Definitely a keeper, he thought.
"Look, Neville, the room's really great and all that, but there's something really important missing."
Neville looked like he was going to faint. He'd tried so hard, he so wanted to make George happy; what had he forgotten? "Um, what?" he managed to ask, his throat tight.
"Well," George said, with a wink, "don't you think the bed would look ever so much better with a naked Gryffindor on it?"

Five minutes later, George decided he had been half right. Mind you, the Gryffindor he had thought of was absolutely gorgeous. It's just that he seemed, somehow, to have miscounted; two was definitely a better number than one. He pulled Neville to him in a tight embrace and their lips locked together again. George slid his tongue across Neville's lips and was rewarded with a low moan as Neville opened his mouth and their tongues tangled together.
"I've been dreaming of this moment," Neville exclaimed, as his hand strayed down George's side to rest on his swelling cock, "for three years ..."
"Perhaps," said George, punctuating his words with a kisses, "it's time (kiss) to stop dreaming (kiss) and start living (kiss)", and his hand was firmly encircling Neville's huge, hard boner.
"Nng – uh – urr – nng," Neville said, shuddering at the touch. Apparently he had temporarily lost the ability to form actual words. George was quite chuffed that he had managed to reduce the Gryffindor who had openly defied Voldemort to a quivering wreck incapable of articulate speech. It was obvious that Neville was a virgin with no prior experience of making love, and that made the moment almost unbearably sweet.
For his part, Neville was in ecstasy. He had thought of George while jerking himself off, of course, but it had never been like this. He'd never realized the fire of passion that would course through him, and the heady sense of joy that came from knowing that the other man felt it too. It didn't take him long to come, and he might have felt embarrassed had George not been close behind.
They lay still together, cuddling and murmuring to each other. George wanted this moment to last forever; he was afraid that if either of them said anything out loud, he would lose it. But he was wrong: Neville whispered "thank you," and the words reverberated in him with all the love and joy of the moment they had shared. He did the only thing he could think of to express his own gratitude: he kissed his new lover, at first gently, so gently, then deeply and passionately, and their cuddle quickly became stronger and erotic again.
But it is in the nature of moments that they are ... momentary. The door downstairs banged, and Fred's voice yelled up, "We're back! We brought you ice-cream! Hope you're decent!"
Neville panicked. "We have to clean up and get dressed! They'll find us! What will Fred think of you?" he said, in a whisper lest his own voice betray him.
George laughed. A quick scourgify dealt with the cleaning-up part, but he didn't bother with getting dressed, contenting himself with summoning the covers over the two of them. "They'll find out we're lovers eventually, Neville, and I'm not bothered if you're not."
"I'm not ashamed to call you my lover," Neville replied, horrified that George would think that he might be. George marveled at how the nervous boy of six years ago had matured into this courageous, gorgeous man and couldn't resist telling him so.
"You're gorgeous, you know. I've wanted you for a while too, and Fred has been very encouraging since he came back to us on Saturday. I know exactly what he will think, and it's going to make him…"
"Grin from ear to ear!" said the Weasley in question, as he poked his head around the door. "All right George?"
"Never been better, Fred."
"On you, Nev!" Fred exclaimed. "Oh, and, love your work!"
Neville had no idea whether he meant the decorating or his recent – ah – activity; but he went a deep crimson anyway. George found it charming, and it toned beautifully with the dark green sheets.
"Here's your ice-cream," Fred added, as an afterthought, levitating a single caramel sundae towards them. "I told Harry you only needed one to share."
He shut the door behind him. Harry had not come upstairs yet, and Fred thought it was probably a good thing. He wasn't sure his little brother was quite ready for this yet. He walked back down to the shop floor.
"Are they coming down?" Harry asked. "We need to leave for the Burrow soon."
"Give them a minute to eat their ice-cream, Harry." Fred told him, stifling the smirk that was trying to escape. "I think they're really going to want time to enjoy it."

In fact, it took nearer a quarter of an hour. Admittedly, it might have been quicker if they'd just eaten it out of the tub with the little plastic spoons Fortescue's gave out; but Fred seemed to have forgotten to get them any. And licking the ice-cream off each other was definitely more fun.
"Must dash, lover," said George as he knotted his tie. "Be here when I get back?"
"Of course!"
It took George another five minutes to get out of the room. It's amazing how many just-one-more-goodbye-kisses you can fit in five minutes …

"You ready yet, Harry?" George asked, cheekily, as he came down the stairs.
Harry looked up. "So, you and Neville …"
"Yes, me and Neville," said George, a huge goofy grin spreading across his face; but it became a little more serious as he continued, "You might want to check yourself in the mirror, Harry."
Harry and Fred had been making themselves busy, restocking shelves and planning new merchandise lines; and Harry had unwisely tried out some new trick binoculars …
Now he had to clean the dark rings from around his eyes. So, to his great chagrin, the answer was, no, he wasn't ready, and it took another ten minutes before they could Floo to Shell Cottage.
Which was why they arrived only five minutes before Ron and Hermione.

Lunch was, of course, wonderful, and accompanied, in true Weasley fashion, by a great deal of happy chatter. Wonder of wonders, Charlie had managed to get time off, and Arthur brought Percy from the Ministry, so Molly really did have all of her children around her. She did, of course, berate the latecomers for "nearly spoiling the lunch", but her heart hadn't been in it, she was so overjoyed to have them all. She even insisted on Robin Banks sitting down to the table as well, which he seemed quite pleased to do, taking a seat between Ginny and Fred.
"Harry dear, you haven't eaten very much, are you sure you're all right?" she asked him, worriedly.
"Oh, our Harry's doing fine, Mum," said Fred, with a smirk. Given the number of sundaes Harry had wolfed, he was amazed that his little brother had eaten anything at all. "Now, Ginny, on the other hand …"
"Ginny? What's wrong, Ginny?" said Molly turning to her.
Fred winked at Harry, who gave him a grateful smile back. There was, of course, nothing wrong with Ginny, she was chatting happily with Auror Banks, but Fred knew how to divert his mother's attention when he needed to.

In all of the excitement and family, it wasn't until mid-afternoon that Harry could get away long enough to do something he'd wanted to do for a while: he slipped out and went to visit Dobby's grave.
He tidied the tiny grave, and spelled some forget-me-nots onto it. It was such a strange week: even without a funeral, here he was today visiting a grave….
"Thought we might find you here," said a familiar voice, and he turned to see Hermione and Ron climbing the dune to meet him.
"Hi guys!" he said, grinning at them, warmly at first and then a bit strained as Hermione all but crushed his ribs in a huge hug. "How did this morning go?"
Hermione conjured some benches and a table with a flick of her wand. "Let's sit down and talk about it."
As she did so, a plate of biscuits floated up, with three cups of tea following like ducklings behind their mother duck. The biscuits glided onto the table and the tea came to rest bobbing in front of each of them. Harry chuckled. He loved magic! Hermione's levitation charms were coming on a treat. He took a sip of his tea while absent-mindedly Summoning a biscuit to him.
"Was that wordless wandless magic?" Ron asked, gobsmacked.
"Er, yeah," said Harry. "I couldn't be bothered getting my wand out."
Ron looked like he was going to explode. "Mate, there are wizards who never manage to do that! Most of us have to concentrate so hard it hurts our teeth! And you do it just to save yourself fishing your wand out!"
"Yep," said Harry. He really didn't want to discuss the things that made him different from everyone else; he'd had plenty of years of the Dursleys calling him "the freak", he didn't need it from his friends. Even though Ron spoke with nothing but admiration, it was still too painful.
"Now, what did you learn this morning?"
"Well," said Hermione, "we managed to confirm what we already knew."
"Except that it looks like the Shield might have been a temporary thing" added Ron.
"And if so, then the bond was temporary too – it wasn't what the books called 'Sette'," Hermione continued, huffing a bit at being interrupted.
"Set?" asked Harry, "Which means what, exactly?"
"We think it means 'consummated'," Ron answered.
"As in ..." Harry asked, but could not bring himself to continue in words; his face went an endearing shade of red, though, so his meaning came across well enough.
"Exactly! And that hasn't happened, right?" said Hermione, with more enthusiam than tact.
Harry's answer was to go even redder and splutter, "No!".
Ron took pity on him and left that particular subject. "And there was something about a debt that happens when you free someone's magic."
"A debt? I don't like the sound of that."
"We didn't think you would," Hermione answered. "So we're going to do more research on it."
"You're going to go back to the Manor?" Harry asked, alarmed.
"Er, no, we didn't actually discuss that," said Ron.
"I thought I could try the Hogwarts library as well, and maybe even the Central Wizarding Archive; I'm sure Kingsley would let me in if you asked him ..." Hermione asked, in a voice that made it clear that she would have batted her eyelids at him if she'd thought it would have worked.
"I don't think you're telling me everything," Harry said suspiciously. He wasn't at all pleased at being asked to use his influence with the Minister. He was painfully aware that being famous was more of a curse than a blessing, and calling in favours wasn't going to help that one bit.
He had been having such a good day, but it looked like that might not last.
"That's because we don't know everything," Hermione answered. "We came away still not quite trusting Lucius, so we need to find some independent corroboration before we do anything."
"But it looks like the Shield is temporary, and you won't be forced into a bond." Ron continued.
"Which is not to say you can't go into one willingly," Hermione added.
"OK, that makes sense," said Harry, mollified. "Hang on, what? Hermione!" To cover his embarrassment, he took a sip of his tea. It was just how he liked it: piping hot, with a liberal dose of honey. Thank goodness for warming charms, he thought.
Ron continued, "Malfoy – Draco, not Lucius – asked how you were. I think he does actually care about you, you know. He wasn't sure about being bonded either, but he didn't just dismiss it. So maybe you can work something out?"
"Yeah, OK. Thanks, guys, I really appreciate you going there today." He wordlessly wandlessly Summoned another biscuit, which made Ron raise his eyebrows.
They hadn't told him much. But he had to admit, what they had said gave him hope: a debt could presumably simply be cancelled, and if the bond wasn't set then Draco and he might just stay as friends. He didn't want to be forced into anything, nor force Draco.
And Draco cared about him? Those words about a possible relationship kept coming up in his head: I've been … wondering if that's what you wanted. He was beginning to think he did. And the way he had said it, Draco wanted it too…
It was still a good day, he decided.

They'd returned to the Burrow in time for a light meal. Though Harry didn't really think that curried chicken on a huge bed of rice with pappadums and roti and chutneys and cucumber raita really met that description. He'd never eaten so well as at the Burrow! There was no way the Dursleys would ever have eaten Indian food – "it might burn our sensitive stomachs", they would have said. As if.
He flopped down in an armchair afterwards, groaning about how much food he'd eaten.
"You didn't have to eat it," the twins pointed out to him, "and you did have two helpings of trifle / and a lot of ice-cream."
Ron perked up at this. "Ice-cream? There's ice-cream? I didn't get any!"
"Oh, our Harry had Fortescue's today, didn't you, little brother?" Fred said, with a grin.
"Neville and me, too," said George, an even wider grin spreading across his face. The grins must be contagious, Ron thought; Harry seemed to have caught one too...
"So that's where you went!" Ginny butted in. "Off eating ice-creams without me, eh?"
They were interrupted by a crackle in the fireplace. It was Narcissa Malfoy, placing a Floo-call from Andromeda's house.
"Good evening all," she said, "I was wondering if I could have a word with Harry?"
"Of course, Narcissa," he replied, jumping up and standing in front of the Floo. "Would you like me to step through?"
"I think that would be best," she replied.
He suited the action to the words. Auror Proudfoot followed him, told Narcissa, "don't mind me, ma'am," and took up Auror duty next to the fireplace.
Andromeda came in, hugging Teddy, and offered them all tea. She handed her grandson over to Harry, who was very pleased to accept a cuddle from him, and went into the kitchen. It wasn't long before she came back with four steaming mugs of tea and a plate of ginger cake. Harry was sure he didn't need any cake, but of course politeness forced him to eat a slice. The second slice, he admitted to himself, was pure greed.
"Harry, I need to talk to you about the arrangements for the general memorial tomorrow," Narcissa began, once they were all seated and Teddy had drifted off to sleep in Harry's arms. "Of course, Draco wants to go, but the Aurors are very concerned that he will be an obvious target for anti-Death-Eater violence. As such, they are insisting on certain precautions, that perhaps Auror ..
".. Proudfoot, ma'am," the auror supplied, helpfully. "Auror Toby Proudfoot at your service."
"Thank you. Perhaps you could explain?"
"I take it that we're insisting on a Cuffing spell for the day?"
"A Cuffing spell?" Harry asked.
"It's the magical version of something the Muggles call 'hand-cuffing'," Proudfoot continued. "It's a spell cast on two people that forces them to stay in physical contact the whole time. Makes sure that no-one can abduct the person being protected, or surprise them alone." Also makes sure they can't run off and make mischief, he didn't add.
"As you can imagine, Draco is not in favour of the idea," Narcissa continued. "But I was wondering if you might volunteer? I think he would be happier with that arrangement ..."
Harry swallowed hard. He could see through the ruse: this was about as close as Narcissa Malfoy was likely to get to telling him she accepted whatever was going on between them. And more than merely accepted: she was even encouraging them to be together.
"Um, have you discussed it with him?"
"No, I thought it would be better to let you say 'no' if you wanted to, without feeling that you had to say 'yes' so as not to disappoint him."
Smooth, Harry thought. Even telling him that she wasn't pushing him into it was doing so: he might not disappoint Draco, but Andy and Toby Proudfoot would know all about it. He didn't really have a choice. But it didn't matter anyway, he decided; in truth, he rather liked the idea ...
"OK," he said, "I'll do it. That is, if the Aurors are OK with the idea?" he asked Toby.
"Im sure that will be quite alright, sir," the Auror replied.
"Thank you, Harry," said Narcissa, quite genuinely. "Draco can't leave the Manor unescorted, of course, so could you please be at the Manor at two thirty tomorrow afternoon?"
It was agreed, and they spent a little longer chatting about the day. Narcissa seemed pleased to learn that Diagon Alley was getting back to normal, and both women laughed at the thought of Harry eating ice-cream sundaes all day.
"It wasn't all day," he said, petulantly.
At this point, Teddy woke up all of a sudden, rather smelly, and Harry got some more practice changing nappies.
They settled him down, and Harry and Toby Proudfoot returned to the Burrow.

"Good day, mate?" Ron asked, as they got into their beds that evening.
Harry thought back on the day.
The morning with the twins had been so much fun; he had really enjoyed repairing the shops and seeing hope and joy in the shopkeepers' eyes had been priceless. The ice-cream had been wonderful, too, of course. He could see in his mind's eye the street bustling again, sure, not all the old shopkeepers would be there, but they would recover.
The family around the table at lunch, just being normal, that had been great. Everyone lounging together, being easy with each other, was such a precious thing to a man who had grown up with a family who deliberately excluded him from such times. And Molly's excitement at having "all my children" around her was so heart-warming. That he was regarded as one of those children brought a lump to his throat.
Cuddling Teddy, even changing his nappy, that was special too. It made him practically a father, and he definitely felt included by Andy; and, yes, even by Narcissa. The boy whose family had rejected him was becoming a man belonging to two families.
And there was something going on between George and Neville; George had looked so happy. And he took hope from the fact that Fred so obviously didn't mind. Maybe the Weasleys really would accept it if there was something in his relationship with Draco.
Maybe there was hope for a happy life for him yet.
And Ron had told him Draco cared about him. That Draco didn't know if they would end up married, but hadn't ruled it out.
Dare he hope?
He dared.
Good day?
"Yeah," said Harry, with a grin. "Wonderful day."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have set up a thread for replies at http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/56042-review-replies-for-returning-to-sanity/ . I will generally try to reply to posts before posting a new chapter.
- 8
- 9
- 10
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Returning to Sanity