All the Ghosts are Screaming

34

Harry

Draco gets pardoned.

Harry's not sure why it comes as a shock, really, especially considering how he and Hermione and George have been showing up at the ministry once a week lobbying for a change in his criminal status, but now that the proof of the change is staring up at him in black and white, Harry can't help but feel like the ground had fallen out from underneath him.

"It's over,"  Draco says, and he's got tears in his eyes, and Harry pulls himself out of his own head long enough to notice the tears in his boyfriend's eyes and the way that his hands are trembling, just a little, the most they have in days, and realizes how great this must be for him, to not be a marked man for the first time in five years.  There's a difference between telling yourself that you are innocent every night before you go to sleep and having the government proclaim it to the whole world, as the Daily Prophet would surely say in tomorrow's paper.  "It's all over."

Over is really a funny word for it.  There's been a never ending series of moments where Harry thinks it is over only to find that he is wrong- killing Voldemort just to realize that his supporters are still out there, thinking that he is walking away from the auror department to let other people handle it and finding that box from Moody, a message from beyond the grave, leaving that behind only to be pulled back in when they drop a chandelier on his boyfriend's head during the attempted murder of his best friend.

It's all very confusing, this back and forth, but finally, Harry was having to come to terms that finally, after years of fighting, he was finally going to be at peace.  The fighting was done and the funerals were over and even past sins were being forgiven, like that owl to Draco shoved.

What's a solider without a war to fight in?  It was something that Ron said in the first nights of the tentative peace after Voldemort had fallen, and Harry didn't have an answer.  Didn't bother to answer, really, because beneath all the grief was the hum of victory and the idea that he was going to spend the rest of his life with his arms around Ginny, that mostly, everyone he loved had come through okay, even though they weren't okay at all.

That had been a bad feeling, waking up and realizing that it would never end, not for him.

This feeling was worse, because he knows that it makes him a terrible person, wishing that maybe this would have waited just a few more months.

"That's great!"  Harry hears his own voice and wants to cringe, because it is much too cheery and much more robust than it should have been.  He wants to cover it up by holding Draco, wrapping him in a hug or kissing him on the cheek, some tactile symbol of how much he cares about him, but it seems like he is struck dumb by the news.  Draco is too caught up in the idea of being free that he doesn't even notice.  "We should celebrate!"

"Merlin, I've got to call Hermione."  Draco's voice is faint, like he might pass out from excitement at any moment.  "Think she'll mind if I just floo over?"

"When you have news like this?"  His voice is still too forced, too wrong.  "Not a chance."

"Hey."  Draco's eyes fix on Harry for the first time since Draco's shout drew him into the kitchen, and then he draws him into a kiss, because they're boyfriends and get to do stuff like that now just to prove to each other that they can.  That they want to.  That hopefully, they will always want to.   "I know you did a lot to get me here.  That a lot of people thought you were crazy for never giving up on me."  He draws him even closer and makes Harry look into his eyes, like he would miss some of the seriousness of the moment if he was looking at the floor.  "Thank you."

"Don't thank me."  Harry felt miserable.  "I didn't do anything that the ministry shouldn't have done ages ago."

"Still,"  Draco said, and he is happy again, like nothing was wrong between them.  "Thank you."

He kisses him one more time and then leaves the room, presumably to call everyone that their floo network was connected to and shout the good news into their empty living rooms until he grows hoarse.  Harry takes the time to sink down onto one of the kitchen chairs and catch his breath, head tucked between his knees, like he had just gotten the wind knocked out of him and needs a minute to curb the nausea.

Harry was happy for him.  Honesty.  The only troublesome bit was that the idea of Draco being on probation was the foundation of their relationship, where Harry always knew that he would be here, a permanent promise he could not default on.  And maybe it was sort of screwed up in a way (alright, definitely screwed up) but beyond everything else, the fact that they were room mates was the one thing that would chain them together even when the world around them was trying to pull them apart.

But now it was all different.  Now, they were both in transition, with Draco being a free man who doesn't need to report his whereabouts to the ministry and Harry looking to leave everything about the war behind, new career plan and new boyfriend and new house.  It's not a bad thing, except for the fact that twenty minutes before, Harry didn't have to think about asking Draco if he was coming with him to the new house.  There was never any need for discussion.

Now there was.  Now, Draco was free to stay in this house or go buy himself a new one or go live with his mother or George or Luna, or even apparate to the other side of the world and never talk to any of them.  Now, there was no safety net of the routine, no garuntees that Draco would want to go with him at all.

(And of course, that makes Harry consider the question of how much of this was by choice and how much was by obligation, like, yes, Harry, let's look at a house to build our future in that meets all these specifics and I'm not protesting, but I'm not protesting because you're the one who decides where we go and some little piece of paper the wizengamot judge filled out months ago insists that I have to follow, like it or not.  Long distance dating gets harder when you're doing it from a cell in Azkaban, after all.)

"I just talked to Hermione.  She said she and Ron can be at the Leaky Cauldron at eight, which gives you and I at least an hour to celebrate on hour, time that I can spend thanking you properly for all the work that you did to get me-,"  Draco pauses right in the middle of his sentence and the smile slips off his face at the sight of Harry.  He doesn't look upset, just confused, like he cannot imagine why Harry would not be jumping for joy and making his own round of announcements, though who Draco thought he would be calling when all was available was the muggle phone, he wouldn't know.  Maybe Dudley, but Harry never did tell him Draco was technically a criminal.  "Everything alright?"

"Yeah."  There's a voice in his head telling him that honesty is the best option.  That communication is key in healthy relationships, and maybe they should sit down so Harry can talk about his feelings.  It sounds a bit like Hermione.  But there's also a voice that sounds a bit like Seamus, of all people, echoing a sentiment from their sixth year, saying that now was not the time to worry about stupid things like that.  "Everything's perfect."