Harry remembers the first time. The same cloudy and suffocating air, the same frozen fog, the graveyard was deserted. He felt Draco's cold hand on his. He took a deep breath and started walking. He walked among the stones almost out of fear.
On his first working day, he had run this route to inform his parents that he had become an Auror, and Ron was right behind him, cursing about how Harry is faster than him. The two of them went to meet James and Lily every time. Basically, no one would compete with his best friend in the cemetery, betting on how whoever arrived earlier could be the first person to tell the story. Or no one would go there with his friend to make fun of each other. But these things were fun for Harry and Ron.
Potter passed the old tree at the end of the bend. He came to himself. It was dusk in the gray air. He gripped Draco's hand tighter. He wasn't sure if the shiver he felt was due to sadness or cold. He had to grab a safe place. He let out a deep breath and let the memories block his vision.
He watched as Hermione placed a bouquet of flowers on the grave and stood next to Harry again. He would never forget that Christmas night. The steam moved away from the front of his glasses. He was still in front of Draco. He eased his grip and Draco's hand fell out of his grasp. Like Harry, he was lost in his thoughts. They were standing in front of James and Lily's grave. Finally, the first tears fell from Harry's eyes.
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•|Blood potion|• HP
FanfictionA house whose door is half open is not a good sign at all. Especially if that house is the house of Harry James Potter, the famous Auror of the Ministry of Magic. Blood Potion tells the story about two years after Ginny and Harry's marriage, regardl...
