You Won't Ever Get Too Far

I wasn't off the hook yet. I was asked more personal questions, then questions about my family arose. I started getting uncomfortable and I could feel my father staring at me.

"All in favor of conviction," Shacklebolt said. His own hand did not raise, but quite a few others did.

I was sweating more that I ever had. My hair was sticking to my forehead. My hands were sliding away from one another.

"All those who are not."

It was clear, the second was higher. I sighed with relief.

"All charges have been proven false, the defendant is not guilty. Case dismissed."

I was stunned. My mouth hung open, then formed to a smile. I stood and Harry hugged me. I caught a glimpse of my father, who looked furious.

We left the court room, trying to avoid everyone really. Was it really the time to be questioned about our relationship?

"Draco, what's going on here?" my father spat.

I turned to face him. "Harry helped me win the case," I said simply.

"But...how can you..?" my father glanced around, "I suggest you return home with me at once."

"I don't have to," I said. "In fact, I won't."

Harry put his hand on my shoulder and steered me around. "Come on," he said.

"He's not finished with me," I mumbled.

"Well, he is for now."

Together, we left the Ministry. It was all behind us now.

We walked through snow-covered London quietly. A small bit of snowflakes fell, sticking in Harry's hair. His cheeks were red from the cold, but he was still smiling.

After a walk and a tube ride, we were back to his apartment-- carefree. So carefree that our usually rushed and almost forceful contact was slow and tender. He kissed me quickly twice, then took off his cloak and robes. I started to do the same tossing my bag of belongings to the side. I took the memories from my pocket and placed them in Harry's hand. "Thank you," I whispered.

"You're welcome," Harry said and hugged me tight, placing a small kiss on my cheek. He put the vial back into his trunk. "Let's see what you've brought to junk up this room some more."

I rolled my eyes and went for the bag. I threw three pillows at him. "Two is not enough for two people," I said. My miraculously still neatly folded clothes stacked up, the quills, ink, and parchment, certain books, and the photo. "I'll put this all in the wardrobe later." I drew out a blanket, "You're lacking in the winter weather area." Last, I pulled out my Nimbus 2001. "Well, I couldn't leave it," I said. "That's all."

"Good," Harry said smiling.

"What do you mean 'good'?" I smirked, standing up and wrapping my arms around him. We stood there kissing for what could've been hours.

Then, we started organizing my things. Ink, quills, parchment in the desk. Pillows and the blanket piled on the bed with the blanket. Clothes put up.

"Honestly, a Slytherin tie?" he said. I hung it right on the hook with his Gryffindor tie.

Last, there was the picture. "I couldn't...forget them completely."

"Of course not," Harry said sympathetically. "I have a place." He took it and put it on the top shelf of his desk next to his photos; one of him, Weasley and Granger, one of a woman with red hair and a man who looked a lot like him (I guessed it was his parents), and an old photo with a large group of people.

"Who are all these people?" I asked, studying the photo.

"The original Order of the Phoenix," he said. "There's Lupin, my parents, Sirius, Hagrid, Dumbledore, Moody, McGonagall, Neville's parents, and a few people I'm not sure of."

I stared at the faces. Most of those people were dead...

I looked around at the shelf and wanted to throw the photo I'd brought down on the ground. It looked out of place, that was for sure.

"Can I see the album?" I asked.

Harry shrugged and pulled it out.

I turned to the first page; the first photo was the same woman with red hair and man with glasses and dark hair, but this time holding a baby.

"My parents," Harry said. I smiled a little.

The next page was of his parents again, a little younger and laughing. Another of their wedding. Another of a bunch of Hogwarts students standing around Slughorn--my dad was one of them.

"Slug Club of '75," Harry laughed a little.

The next page was Harry, Weasley, and Granger much younger. Another page was full of the Weasley family. The next was a newspaper clipping of the Triwizard Champions. The next was a picture of a wedding.

"Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour," Harry said.

The next page was of he, Weasley and Granger all dressed up. The last page was a torn photo of a baby on a broomstick and a pair of legs.

"I've been trying to fill it," Harry said. "I've just had a lot on my mind rather than photos..."

"It's nice," I said quietly.

"Right," Harry said, putting it back on the shelf.

"I can't believe it's over..." I muttered.

"I can't believe it's nearly Christmas," Harry said laughing a little.

I smiled. He kissed me, slowly and tenderly, stroking my cheek with his thumb. Slowly, very slowly, it escalated; kiss that were more rough, shed clothes, hard breathing. It was nice. Nothing else mattered. It was just Harry and me.