Past, Present & Future (H/D, PG-13)

[sesheta66]

Title:   Past, Present and Future
Author:   sesheta_66
Word Count:   2236
Rating:   PG-13
Warning:   No beta. Please point out any mistakes you see.
A/N:   This is a birthday fic for aoifeic. The request was "Post-War. Reunited H/D with Jealous! Harry." I hope you like it!
Disclaimer:   HP world belongs to JK Rowling. No money made by me - I am only playing.

Harry walked into the Three Broomsticks with Ron and Hermione, wondering why, exactly, he had let them talk him into coming here tonight. It was a reunion of their class, and it had been five years since they had all graduated from Hogwarts.

Before he would agree, Harry had Hermione swear it wasn't yet another thinly-veiled night to honour the "Hero of the Wizarding World". He was so sick of that title, he never wanted to hear it again.

"Well, if it isn't the Hero of the Wizarding World," drawled a familiar voice. Perfect. Just what I need. Malfoy reading my mind.

"Shut it, Malfoy."

"Aw, what's the matter, Potter? Can't handle a party that isn't in your honour? I'm surprised your head fit through the door."

"This was a mistake," Harry growled at Hermione, who looked ready to hit Malfoy, like she had done in their third year. "I'm leaving."

"Oh, come now Potter. Don't leave because of me. Surely I can't scare you off, not after you defeated Voldemort single-handedly."

"Malfoy, piss off. I did nothing single-handedly as you well know. I never wanted fame or glory. I just want to get on with my life. Perhaps you would ever-so-kindly fuck off and let me do that, yeah?"

"Harry, mate, don't leave just yet," Ron said. "It's just Malfoy. It's what he does."

Harry looked at the blonde and decided that, no, he wouldn't let him ruin his night. For the first time in a long time, he was out with his friends, and he meant to enjoy himself. Besides, Malfoy himself had said that tonight wasn't to honour Harry. He looked right at the blonde when he answered Ron. "You know what, Ron? You're right. He's not worth it." He turned away and went to find a table in the back room, as far away from the Slytherin as he could get.

As the evening progressed, Harry found himself having a good time, despite his earlier reluctance. "See, mate? I told you you'd enjoy yourself," Ron said.

"Alright, I'll admit it. You were right. I am having a good time." He raised his glass to Ron's and took a swig. "So where did Hermione disappear to?" he asked.

"Dunno. I imagine she's chatting with some of the girls she hasn't seen in a while. After all, she sees enough of us all the time."

"No, mate," piped in Seamus. "She's over there with Malfoy."

Ron and Harry spun their heads around to see that Seamus was right. Hermione was having a rather heated discussion with him, it seemed. She kept poking him in the chest, presumably to make her point more forcefully (Ron and Harry had both been on the receiving end of that before). What surprised Harry most of all was that, for some reason, he wasn't trying to stop her. In fact, his face seemed to have fallen into an expression similar to that of a young child being told off. Harry chuckled at the sight.

"Well, it looks like she's holding her own," he said to Ron. Ron just continued to watch, a scowl forming on his face. "Relax, mate. Malfoy may be a git, but he's not going to do anything to her here. Besides, it actually looks like he's listening to her."

"I suppose you're right," Ron said, and they turned back to their conversation. A short while later, Hermione returned looking rather pleased with herself.

"So, what was that all about?" Seamus asked.

"Nothing. Just a friendly discussion."

"Didn't look that friendly to me," observed Ron.

"Well, it didn't start out that way, but I think we've reached an understanding. And before you ask, Ronald, no I will not tell you about it." She looked up at Harry and smiled. What was that about?

As the evening progressed, Harry relaxed even more. The dinner and announcements went by without one mention of the war. There were enough events celebrating the win, mourning the losses, and honouring those both alive and dead that had fought for the cause. That wasn't what this night was about. Tonight was more about remembering the times before the war, and celebrating where everyone was now, which suited Harry just fine. After all the plates were cleared away, the dancing began, and Harry took his usual place at the table, watching.

It was nice to see his two close friends dancing together. It took years for Ron to eventually pluck up the nerve to ask Hermione out on a date, but now they were inseparable. They still fought like mad, but at least they had acknowledged their love for one another. The engagement ring on her finger was a reminder that there would be another event coming up soon. Harry continued to observe happy couples, and renewed friendships on the dance floor. Yet here he remained, as an observer.

As his eyes reached Malfoy and his partner on the dance floor, Harry was reminded of a night during the war. A night of unbridled passion that had never been repeated. A night he would never forget. Malfoy, if his greeting had been any indication, had obviously moved past it. True, they had agreed never to speak of it again. Until tonight, that had been easy enough, since they hadn't seen each other for years. And until just now, Harry thought that he had moved on too. But seeing Malfoy dancing with another bloke ... it bothered him. What is wrong with me?

His glare was boring a hole into the back of the brunette's head when Malfoy caught him looking. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking at Harry with confusion. As soon as his brain caught up, and he realized he was caught, Harry had the decency to look away.

"Harry, what's wrong?" asked Hermione. When had she come back to the table?

"Nothing," he replied, as Ron's gaze followed where Harry's had been fixated a moment before.

"The ferret. Did he say something else to you?" asked Ron.

"No, Ron, he didn't."

"Then what's -- "

"I'm going outside for some fresh air. Be back in a few."

"I'll come with you, mate," Ron suggested.

"No, Ron. You stay here and dance with your girl. I just need to go for a short walk, and clear my head. I'll be back soon."

As Harry stepped outside and breathed in the night air, he already felt better. He let his feet carry him wherever, and before long he found himself looking at the Shrieking Shack. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt as much as it had the last time.

"Potter," came the last voice Harry wanted to hear.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy? Couldn't you tell I wanted to be alone? You know, what with the leaving by myself and all."

Draco started laughing. "Oh my God, do I always sound like that?"

"Like what?"

"Sarcasm dripping with disdain."

"Yes, you do," Harry replied. "At least with me," he added, under his breath.

Draco mumbled something Harry couldn't hear. "What was that?" Harry asked.

"I said I'm sorry."

Harry just stared at him, wondering what exactly he was apologizing for. Apparently, Draco understood what his gaping meant. "I'm sorry that I speak to you that way, especially now."

"Why stop now? You've been so good at it all these years."

"Touché, Harry."

"What did you call me?"

"I called you Harry. I think that it's about time we put the past behind us, don't you?"

"Where is this coming from? You were a perfect ass when I arrived. Why the sudden change?" As he thought back, he realized what must have happened. "Hermione."

"Yes, Hermione."

"What did she say to you anyway?"

"She straightened out a few things for me. First of all, she told me to stop being such a prat, and to grow up. Then she explained to me how you absolutely refuse to attend anything in your own honour, and that the only way you would come here tonight was if she guaranteed that you were not the focus."

"Fascinating, Malfoy."

"Call me Draco, already. Listen, I'm not finished. She also told me what you did for me. What you did for me and Snape."

"She had no right -- "

"Perhaps not, Harry, but I'm glad she did. I would have gone the rest of my life trying to hate you, because you did nothing. This whole time, I never knew that you had testified in our favour. That you had insisted charges be dropped. That you had threatened to shout the truth out to anyone and everyone that would listen, even though you hate publicity. But that you swore them to secrecy - your testimony was sealed. That you threatened Scrimgeour himself. Gods, Harry, what were you thinking?"

"Oh, I don't know, Malfoy. Perhaps that you and Snape were innocent. That you both risked your lives to help us. That we never would have won if it weren't for you. And that it would have been a tragedy on a grand scale if you went to Azkaban, along with those you helped put there. It was the right thing to do."

"Stupid bloody Gryffindor. Of course it was the right thing to do, Harry. But why did you have to do it? You risked your own future, threatening the Minister of Magic himself! What did you have on him, anyway?"

Despite himself, Harry smiled. "Nothing. I just figured there had to be something in his past that was shady, and I simply made it sound as though I knew what it was. And it worked. He agreed to my terms, and you know the rest."

It was Draco's turn to smile. "I'm impressed. That was very Slytherin of you."

"I know. I suppose the hat knew what it was talking about."

"The hat? You mean the Sorting Hat?"

"Yes. Back in first year, it wanted to put me in Slytherin." At Draco's stunned look, he continued. "But I told it I didn't want to be in Slytherin, so it put me in Gryffindor instead."

"But, why wouldn't you want to be in Slytherin?"

"The truth?" Harry asked. At Draco's nod, he answered. "Because of you. You had bragged about how Slytherin was so great, you had insulted Hagrid, and you were just generally a prat. I didn't want to be in the same house as you. So I said no to Slytherin, and the hat listened."

"Wow! Was I really that bad?"

"You were eleven, Draco. I don't hold that against you."

Draco smiled. "You called me Draco."

"I suppose I did. Now will you just leave me alone please?"

"Not until you answer one question for me."

Harry let out an exasperated sigh. "What?"

"What were you thinking about when you were watching me on the dance floor?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"We agreed not to talk about it."

"We never agreed to anything. You said we shouldn't ever discuss it again, and I said nothing."

"Which meant you agreed. I knew from the way you looked at me that you thought it had been a mistake. So I gave you an out, and you took it."

"You thought that? Gods, Harry ... all this time."

"What are you on about now? Can't we just get past this, and go our separate ways already?"

"Harry, that night, when I looked at you, it was fear in my eyes, not regret. I was so afraid of losing you ... to Voldemort, to Ginny, to anyone else. I knew I wasn't good enough for you, and that you'd leave me, if not then, eventually. I had you once, and I knew I never wanted to give you up. Then you said what you did, and I died inside. I accepted that you thought it was a mistake, and I tried to rebuild the walls around me. The fact that I didn't hear from you again just strengthened my resolve. Until tonight, anyway."

Harry was stunned. Had he wasted these years? Could they have been together all this time?

"Harry, what were you thinking when you were watching me on the dance floor?"

"I was remembering that night, how wonderful it felt to be with you, and how much I longed to be again. And," he smiled at Draco, "that I really wanted to deck the guy you were dancing with." He shrugged his shoulders, and became inexplicably fascinated with his feet.

Harry heard him close the distance between them, then felt Draco's hand lift his chin, so he was looking him in the eyes. "Stupid bloody Gryffindor." Draco leaned in and kissed Harry softly on the lips, watching for his reaction. When Harry kissed him back, tentatively at first, their eyes closed, and Draco's arms wrapped around Harry's back. Harry responded by pulling Draco's body against his own, and weaving his fingers through the blonde's hair. This feels so good. They remained like that, wrapped in each other's arms, both savouring the taste of the other, closing the gap between past and present, and hopefully sealing the fate of their future together.

When they finally broke apart, it was Draco who spoke first. "I suppose it's time we get back to the party, then."

Harry shook his head. "I think we've wasted enough time, don't you? How about you come back home with me instead?"

Draco smiled.  "I was hoping you'd say that."