It's No Great Mystery (Drarry)

Chapter Five

Now that he had the answer, the day suddenly felt a lot more precious.

He collected George and Draco's memories from the Pensieve and meandered back through the corridors, passing festively decorated knights and the disembodied giggles of Peeves somewhere in the walls, not really thinking about anything. Deliberately not thinking about anything. Because now that it was all poised on the edge of return, Harry realised that he would have to, well, return.

He'd have to deal with the Ministry, and he'd have to make a decision about the Aurors...

...and there was Draco. Suddenly, this thing with Draco felt a lot more terrifying, now that he had the possibility of screwing it all up. Inside this little bubble, it had been safe and untouchable. A strange kind of dream, pleasant enough to keep him going, but destined to burst in the real world.

Now, he had to make it work, because the thought of losing what they'd had... it was unbearable. And not just for him, apparently, although he still didn't quite know what that meant.

Peeves soared overhead, and Harry only had the warning of a nearby portrait yelling "Duck, good sir!" to help him avoid the table Peeves sent soaring down the corridor like a bowling ball.

Okay, so, maybe Harry wasn't doing a great job of not thinking.

He stopped, squinting back at the debris behind him and forcing himself to actually face the issue head on. If this was his last go at December 25th, 1998, what did he want to do?

"Hagrid," Harry said firmly to himself.

Peeves's voice carried delightedly from the end of the corridor, along with the sounds of more furniture smashing in time with a singsong tune.

Potter, the rotter, he's done it again

Ruined the timeline and boggled his brain

Babbling and prattling with no one around

Little wee Potter, he's had a breakdown

"I have not 'boggled my brain'," Harry muttered indignantly, talking to himself once more and probably proving the point. He couldn't, in fairness, argue the breakdown accusation, but he'd damn well earned that breakdown and he planned to own it with pride, Peeves or no Peeves.

He raised his voice, irritated. "It's ending tonight, Peeves. So don't smash anything you don't want to stay broken, this time!"

There was a thoughtful pause, and then the biggest crash Harry had ever heard, followed by giggling. Harry considered his options as a mature, competent wizard who had defeated the Dark Lord, and ran.

*

It didn't take much to convince the Weasleys and Grangers to visit Hagrid. Ron and Hermione were delighted, and even George brightened, saying he hadn't seen Hagrid in forever. When they'd finished breakfast, they collected their presents from upstairs and began making their way across the grounds towards Hagrid's hut. Smoke curled cheerily towards the sky, and Harry imagined Hagrid inside, holding a steaming mug of tea and watching his Parrot Doxies fly beyond the window.

Harry didn't realise he was smiling until Hermione nudged him. He looked up to find her face flushed with laughter, nose pink and her eyes bright.

"You look happy," she said, clearly waiting to find out why.

"Just thinking of Hagrid," he said honestly. "It'll be good to see him again."

Hermione studied him for a moment longer, and then slung her arm over his waist and brought him into a half-hug. He laughed, stumbling into her as Mr Weasley knocked sharply on Hagrid's front door.