Drarry - It Was All Just A Game (REWRITE - CLEAN VERSION)

EPILOGUE

September First was always a busy day for the Potter family, but this one in particular was extra special.

Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he checked his pocket watch, for the time, 11:02 AM, and he let his eyes linger on the dial: 8,582.

He smiled softly at the number, as he always did, and then looked up as footsteps approached.

"Potter."

McGonagall stood in front of him with a hint of a smile, but also a raised eyebrow.

He greeted her by shaking her hand and gave her his resume on a piece of parchment.

"Put that away. You already have the job,"she said, taking him up the stairs to her office.

Harry blinked. "Really?"

She took a seat at her desk.

"Of course. Professor Adams has been here since Pumblechook left. He's been wanting to retire for three years now."

"Thank you, Professor, but... The other candidates are all Aurors. I've only been on a few missions... and I hated it. I've just been running the Orphanage and—"

"Potter." She looked at him with a you've got to be kidding me expression on her face.

"I haven't worked in the Dark Arts as a career. I don't want my name or just my hiccup with Tom Riddle to get me it." Because that's what it all was now: a hiccup. A torturous start to a much longer, more satisfying life.

"You're overly qualified and even if you weren't, you'd still get the job. Unless you don't want it."

"I want it," Harry said firmly. "I'd love to teach and I want to be around my family. But there are other candidates who know more than me."

"You have compassion and a knack for teaching more than anyone I've met with for the past three years we've been look. I know you'll handle the students well."

Harry nodded. "I will."

"Good. We have a few rules to cover. Mr. Potter," she called, and Draco came down from the upstairs balcony on the other side of the room where the sorting hat was. It was always so strange to see Draco at Hogwarts now that they were much older. He still remembered what Draco looked like when they were fourteen, hell, and even eleven.

When Draco met his eyes, Harry's heart warmed. He couldn't help but smile at him. "Hey you."

"What are you doing here? You said you wouldn't interfere with my interview."

"I planned to stay in my office the whole time but she said she needed me here."

"Yes. To discuss your extra-curricular activities," McGonagall pressed her lips firm in a line.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "Professor?"

"Headmistress," she corrected. "I'm talking about when Mr. Potter came to visit last year during Easter. Mr. Potter," she turned to Draco, "was absent for dinner."

There was no way she knew about that.

"I caught a cold." Draco's face turned a bit red.

"Also during the Halloween feast."

"Two times!"

"You don't see any of our other professor's sneaking their spouses onto campus and finding the nearest broomstick cupboard."

"All the professors here are old. I don't think any of them want to," Harry said plainly, and Draco snorted, covering his mouth.

"Harry, that is not the thing you say in an interview," Draco said.