1,889Harry stared at the ceiling, drumming his fingers against his stomach.
He turned to one side.
He turned to the other.
Then he rolled onto his back once more, rubbing his face and groaning.
"Shit," he said, letting his arms fall back to his sides.
He stared at the alarm clock on his bedside table and then back at the ceiling.
"Shit."
It was half three in the morning, and he had work tomorrow. He'd been trying and failing to shut his mind off all night, but thoughts kept rushing in one after the other with such ferocity that he could almost feel them buzzing in his ears.
It wasn't like this the night before. He'd fallen asleep rather fast, actually—the shock of it all perhaps tiring his mind and body out.
But then he'd had all day Sunday to think things through. To replay images in his head, and to dream up fantasies. Then to have reality come crashing back in with a force so strong, it left a gaping hole in its wake, flushing out everything good and leaving only guilt and doubt and fear.
The first two he could understand.
But what exactly was he afraid of?
"Oh for the love of..." Harry said, rubbing his face again as he sat up in bed.
He threw his covers off and let his feet drop to the floor. There was no point in tossing and turning all night, he needed a distraction.
Making his way downstairs, Harry opened the door to his study and sat down behind his desk, finding the leftover bottle of firewhiskey Ron had sent him for Ginny's birthday. He conjured a glass and poured a small amount before returning the bottle back in the drawer. He needed to pace himself this time. He couldn't afford another hangover at work. Not when they were starting to feel more and more like botched Cruciatus Curses these days than anything.
Oh to be young again...
Harry gave a humourless chuckle before tossing back his drink and setting the glass back down with a bit more force than necessary.
He let his head fall into his hands after that, his fingers clutching at his hair as he stared down at the desk.
And for the hundredth time that night, the image of her invaded his mind.
He was too tired to try and block it out now. He let himself picture her freely—sitting at the piano, eyes closed, face flushed, body moving gently with the music. The sun dipping slowly into the horizon and casting a soft, orange glow on the earth. Yellow lanterns swaying gently on wooden lattices and shining brightly in the early evening light.
"Shit," he said with a groan.
He was a fucking poet now.
Quickly pouring himself another glass, Harry leant his head back against the chair and closed his eyes, feeling his exhaustion slowly start to set in.
He was making this a bigger deal than it was, he was sure of that. Things always seemed like a bigger deal at three o'clock in the morning.
Yes, he had feelings for Abby, so what? He was only human. It didn't mean he had to act on them. And even if he did, was that so bad? He couldn't be expected to be alone forever, could he? People loved reminding him of that, didn't they?
Harry breathed out slowly, staring at the wall in front of him.
God, he was actually considering this. Being with a woman who wasn't Ginny.
But not just any woman, he reminded himself.
"Abby..." Harry said aloud, as though trying her name out for the first time.
And just like that, his mind filled once more with the image of her. This time with fire in her eyes and red angry patches on her cheeks. Her voice in his ears filled with bite and pain and passion.
Two parts of her—gentle and strong—that he'd never known before. They were like missing pieces of a puzzle finally falling into place, allowing him to see the full picture of her.
And he liked that picture. Far more than any of the others she'd shown him before. He wanted to see more of it. He really, really wanted that.
Harry slumped back in his seat, his thoughts gradually slowing down enough for him to succumb to his need for sleep. But not before one final thought passed through his head, loud, clear, and emphatic:
Shit.
"Christ, Harry!"
He looked up to see Hermione stop short in the doorway, closing her eyes for a second as if to regain her bearings.
"Sorry," he said, from his spot on the edge of her desk. "Did I frighten you?"
"How how on earth did you get in here?" she said, ignoring his question as she walked past him. "Nobody knows the password but my—"
"Assistant," he finished for her.
Hermione frowned for a moment before letting out a small huff of exasperation. "Of course...Witch Weekly's most loyal reader," she said, unbuttoning her cloak and hanging it on the stand behind her. "Poppy's such a bright young woman. I'll never understand why she reads that rubbish."
Harry shrugged as if to say 'what can you do'.
"Well, no matter," she said, looking him up and down. "I doubt it was your most charming smile that won her over today. You look terrible. Did you sleep at all last night?"
"Briefly," he said.
Her eyebrows drew with concern. "What's wrong?" she said at once.
Harry glanced back down at the floor for a moment, his hands gripping the edge of the desk. He usually appreciated Hermione's habit of jumping straight to the point, but today, he almost wished for some small talk to help ease him into the conversation. He wasn't even sure what he wanted from her, but he knew she would help him sort things out.
"Harry?" Hermione said, her tone softer.
He picked his head back up and locked eyes with her.
"Is this about the wedding?" she said carefully. "Did something happen?"
Trust Hermione to guess correctly on the first go.
"Yeah," he said, not bothering to tiptoe around it. "Yeah, you can say that."
The expression on her face changed slightly, and she leaned in closer. "Go on."
Harry tugged at his tie and cleared his throat, hating how nervous he felt all of a sudden. Hermione's wide-eyed gaze boring into his certainly wasn't helping matters.
"I've, er...come to the realisation..." he said, trailing off a bit before shaking his head and getting to the point. "I fancy her."
He immediately grimaced at how juvenile that sounded.
"I have feelings for her," he said, instead. "For Abby...I think. I mean—obviously for Abby, but I think I have feelings. Well I mean...I know that I do, but.."
Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder causing him to stop talking and look up at her.
"Go on and say it, then," Harry said.
"Say what?"
"I told you so."
"I would, Harry, but I'm not eleven."
He sighed. "Well fine, but you obviously want to say something, so just get on with it."
Hermione smiled and took a seat next to him, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it. "There's nothing for me to say except that I'm very, very happy," she said with emphasis. "I'd be much more interested in hearing what you have to say."
"Such as?"
"Well...when was the moment you realised? Have you told her yet? What are you planning on doing about it? And most importantly...why are you here?"
He raised an eyebrow at her.
"Something kept you up all night, Harry," she said, her eyes searching his. "And something brought you here an hour before the work day starts to talk to me. So...what is it?"
Harry took his hand back from her and ran it through his hair. "You ask way too many questions."
"And you know that," she said with a shrug. "It's why you came."
He shook his head in amusement before staring down at the floor in thought. "I just…" he said, his voice coming out a bit gravelly. "Even if she felt the same way...I can't just be with her, Hermione. I can't."
She didn't immediately object, for which Harry was grateful.
Instead, she creased her forehead in thought and gave him a curious look. "Why not?" she said.
He looked away and exhaled quietly.
That was the question, wasn't it? Why not?
There were a thousand reasons why not, and all of them led back to the one thing that would always be inevitable for him.
"Because," he said, his voice heavy. "It's not just my life."
Hermione stared at him, eyebrows furrowed.
It was the first time he'd said the words aloud, but as soon as they came out, he knew they were true. His life wasn't his own. Not completely. Not for a long time. It was his children's. His family's. It was the entire wizarding world's despite how stubbornly he tried avoiding the public eye. Because he was Harry Potter. And no decision he ever made was his and his alone.
The realisation hit him harder than it ever had before, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Being with Ginny was easy," Harry said after a moment. "It was right. It was what everyone expected. And I sure as hell didn't mind because I loved her."
Hermione nodded, hanging on his every word.
"It was the same with having kids. And becoming an Auror. Becoming Head Auror," he said, shaking his head. "Nearly every decision I've ever made about my own life has been an easy one."
"Because it fit in perfectly with what everyone expected of you," Hermione said, her tone soft.
Harry nodded as he gripped the edge of the desk even harder, staring down at the soles of his shoes as they skimmed the floor.
"Being with Abby, though..." he said, his voice growing quiet. "That wouldn't be easy."
His grip relaxed a bit as he said the words aloud. As if finally admitting to it relieved some of the tension inside of him.
Silence permeated the room for a moment, both of them lost in their own thoughts—Hermione surely trying to figure out a way to counter his argument.
But she would come up short. And they both knew that she would. He appreciated her effort, though. He always appreciated her effort.
"Maybe there's some truth to that," Hermione said finally, turning her head towards him. "But what is it exactly that you're afraid of? What's the worst that can happen?"
Harry swallowed hard, wishing he had a single, straight answer for her. But it was so many different things he couldn't even put into words, things that she would surely scoff at, and that he knew were ridiculous. But then other, much more valid things that he didn't even want to think about.
So, he settled for the obvious.
"My kids," he said. "Society. Me."
Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"She doesn't even know who I am, Hermione," Harry said in frustration. "She'd have no idea what she was getting into. No idea what being with me would mean."
"What would it mean?"
Harry ran his hands through his hair and stood up, feeling too restless to sit still any longer. "Don't play dumb, you know exactly what I'm talking about," he said as he started pacing in front of her. "Harry Potter in a new relationship? With a muggle? It'd be the Daily Prophet's ultimate wet dream."
Hermione crossed her arms with a sigh. "Okay, sure, I'll give you that," she said. "But since when do you care about what the papers say?"
"I care, Hermione," he said, stopping in front of her. "I care when it's about the people I love. You know that. Do you think for one second that they'd go easy on Abby? That they wouldn't bloody tear her apart?"
Her eyes widened a fraction before she quickly changed her expression into a look of understanding.
"They would," Harry carried on emphatically. "And do you honestly think she'd want anything to do with me after all that?"
Hermione's lips parted in surprise. "Yes," she said, standing up and placing her hands on his arms. "Yes, of course I do. Is that what you're afraid of?"
Harry pulled away from her and continued pacing.
"Harry," she said in a stern voice.
"What?"
She stood in his path and pursed her lips. "You need to talk to her," she said. "You need to give her that option, you can't just assume she'd give up so easily."
He walked around her and dropped down on the chair in front of her desk, head in his hands. "It doesn't even matter," he said. "None of it matters. I don't even know if she feels the same way."
At this, Hermione clicked her tongue. "Please…" she said.
Harry looked up at her. "Please, what?"
She sighed. "Well, I mean…" she said, gesturing vaguely with her hands.
"What?" Harry repeated with more force.
"I'm willing to bet she does," Hermione said finally, looking annoyed by him. "It's actually rather obvious if you're looking for it."
Ignoring the small thrill in his gut, Harry shook his head. "You can't know that," he said.
"Well, no..." she agreed. "But you can."
He stared at her.
"By talking to her," Hermione said again, this time louder.
"I—look, whatever," Harry said, leaning back in the chair. "I'm not even ready to consider a relationship yet."
Hermione threw her hands up in exasperation. "Why not?" she said.
"I told you," he said, crossing his arms. "There are other things to consider. My children being number one. James has just barely started tolerating Abby as my friend. Can you imagine what he'd do if he found out she was my girlfriend?"
"He'd do what any eight-year-old boy in his situation would do, Harry," she said at once. "He'd get upset, refuse to speak to you for a bit, possibly throw some tantrums, but then eventually he'd grow to accept it. Even like it when he sees how happy you are."
She placed a hand on his arm. "Give James more credit than that," she said softly. "He loves you."
Harry exhaled hard and looked away.
"Look," Hermione said, her voice gentle as she knelt down beside his chair. "Everything aside, Abby's the first woman you've had feelings for since Ginny. And I can't even imagine how difficult that must be. But Harry...this is a good thing. An amazing thing. To open up your heart again despite all the risks...that takes an incredible amount of courage. But if anyone can do it, you can."
Harry glanced up. "Why?" he said quietly.
She looked back at him with her brows drawn together. "Because you're the bravest person I've ever known," she said, her face set in determination as though daring him to disagree.
Harry blinked and turned his head away, too overwhelmed by her words to respond.
"Tell her, Harry," Hermione said, her voice gentle. "Tell her everything."
"...and that one there was inspired by Chaz's trip to South Africa during his gap year."
"Oh?"
"It's bloody deep, that one is. But I wouldn't necessarily call it my favourite. That spot's saved for Track 7—'The Only Way Up is Down'—which, if you remember, I wrote myself. So it's a bit special to me, innit."
"Mmm."
"Have you got any favourites yet? Bet it's hard to choose, yeah?"
Abby felt the back of her neck heat up as Bradley stared at her with eyebrows raised in question. "Oh, very hard," she said, nodding. "They're all just...so good."
Don't ask for details. Don't ask for details. Don't—
"But what did you like about them specifically?" Bradley said, leaning closer towards her from across the table. "Only it's important to have constructive criticism along with praise, innit?"
He shot her a large grin at that, looking very pleased with himself.
"Yes, well—"
"Abby?" came a voice, thankfully cutting off her response. "Would you mind helping me with something for a minute?"
She looked up to find Maggie standing before them, nodding her head towards the back counter for her to follow.
Letting out a tiny breath of relief, Abby got up at once. "Sorry, just have to…" she told Bradley, not bothering to finish her sentence as she quickly left the table.
As soon as she caught up with Maggie, the girl crossed her arms and gave her a smug look. "You're welcome."
Abby groaned. "I can't believe I've just lied to him," she said, collapsing back against the counter. "I told myself I'd listen to the entire CD this weekend, but it completely slipped my mind."
Maggie waved her hand like it was nothing. "Wouldn't matter anyway," she said. "Guys like that don't want 'constructive criticism', they just want their egos stroked. You saved yourself the trouble, trust me."
"If you say so," Abby said, biting her bottom lip. "I'll still probably give it a listen out of guilt though."
"Of course you will."
Not wanting to get sucked back into conversation with Bradley, Abby pretended to look busy behind the counter for the next few minutes until the sound of the bell tinkling gave her the proper excuse to avoid him.
"Lover boy is here," Maggie said quietly.
Abby didn't need to look up to know who it was. "Could you not call him that?" she said, trying to ignore the way her heart skipped at the silly nickname.
"And he's totally staring daggers at Bradley," she continued with amusement. "Imagine if he walked in a few minutes ago with the two of you all cozied up together."
"Oh, stop it," Abby said, peeking casually over her shoulder only to find Harry nose-deep in his newspaper. "I hate you."
Maggie snorted loudly and leaned in towards her. "You totally want him to be jealous, don't you?" she whispered.
"No."
Yes.
Maybe.
"No," she repeated with more force. "Jealousy is immature and...insecure and…"
Maggie raised her eyebrows. "Oh, do go on," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "You've a nice rhythm going there."
Abby rolled her eyes. "I'm going on my break now," she said, causing Maggie to snicker behind her.
She took the long way to avoid Bradley's table, doing her best not to make eye-contact with him as she walked towards Harry's spot by the window.
"Don't worry, he's gone to the loo," Harry said without looking up at her.
"I wasn't—" Abby said, before cutting off and letting out a sigh. She sat down across from him and rested her cheek against her hand. "I just didn't want him getting the wrong idea, all right?"
"What idea would that be?" Harry said, putting his paper down and staring at her.
"I don't know. That I've...ditched him for you or something."
"Well, haven't you?"
Abby stared back at him with pursed lips causing an amused look to appear on Harry's face.
"I'm only messing with you," he said.
"I know, and I don't appreciate it," she said, taking his newspaper and rifling through it for the crossword.
She caught a small smile forming on his face as she gave it back to him. "What?"
Harry shook his head. "Nothing, just...we haven't done this in a while, have we?"
"Shared the newspaper?"
"Yeah and you know...me coming here during the week to see you," he said, gesturing towards her. "It's a nice break from work, isn't it?"
She nodded. "It is," she said simply.
They sat in silence for a moment after that, both focused on their own pages of the paper—or in Abby's case, pretending to be focused. She was, in reality, too busy wondering if there might be some deeper meaning behind Harry's words.
"So, how are you?" he said suddenly.
Her thoughts came to a halt.
It was a loaded question, she knew. Harry wasn't one for pleasantries.
But Abby didn't respond right way, pretending instead to deliberate on one of the crossword clues before writing in an answer. She knew it would come to this eventually—discussing the wedding and her family. The part of her life that she had always preferred to bury deep within her and ignore. The part that Harry was now privy to.
Perhaps it was silly of her, but when he showed up at the cafe today, Abby wanted to believe it was because he'd simply wished to see her as much as she did him. That there was no other motive, no other important discussion to be had. That they could just be two people spending time together for the pure sake of it.
"Fine," she said finally, glancing up at him. "I'm fine."
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Well, I mean...I've been better," she said.
He gave a small nod. "Did you try calling your brother yet?"
"Yes," she said quietly. "Yesterday. But he didn't answer."
"Did you leave a message?"
She shook her head. "I was worried he wouldn't pick up if he knew it was me calling."
Harry didn't have anything to say to that. He just watched as she tapped her pencil to her mouth before erasing an answer and writing in a new one.
"Listen, I appreciate you coming here," Abby said after a moment. "But you didn't have to bother, honestly. Just give me a few days, and I'll be right back—"
"Spare me the bullshit, please," Harry said.
Her pencil froze in her hand. "What bullshit?"
"You know what bullshit," he said, leaning in closer and lowering his voice. "When are you going to stop acting like you're bothering me anytime it's me trying to help you instead of the other way round."
She shifted a bit in her seat. "I don't act like that," she mumbled.
"Yes, you do. You do it all the time. And I'm to blame for it, I know that," Harry said, causing her to look up at him in surprise.
"What? Why?" she said, eyebrows furrowed.
"I was a dick to you from the start, that's why," he said in frustration.
Abby glanced around them quickly before settling her eyes back on him. "Can you keep down your voice please?"
"Sorry," Harry said, leaning back in his seat and running a hand through his hair. "But it's true. And you've no idea how much I regret it."
Abby frowned at him, wondering where all this was coming from.
"I just wish we could start over, you know," Harry said, glancing at the empty coffee cup in front of him that she'd forgotten to fill. "I wish I never made you feel like you were a nuisance. Because you're not. I promise you're not. You never were."
She raised a brow.
"Okay, you were for a bit," he said, causing her to smile despite herself. "But that was on me, too."
She shook her head. "It wasn't, though," she said, placing a hand on his arm. "You're being way too hard on yourself, Harry. I'm an annoying person sometimes, I always have been. Especially when I set my mind to something. And well...I dunno...there was just something about you that I couldn't move on from."
It was the first time she'd shared that aloud, and she worried he might take it the wrong way. Her initial interest in him had been purely innocent. A friendly gesture. A fun challenge, even. But what it turned into was a whole other matter entirely. One she couldn't put into words for him even if she wanted to.
"What was it? Out of curiosity," he said, looking up at her. "Why couldn't you move on from me?"
Abby swallowed hard.
This just took an unexpected turn.
She was not prepared to be having these sorts of conversations at noon on a Monday. Surrounded by strangers. At work.
But alas.
"Well..." Abby said, looking away from Harry's intense green eyes in order to gather her thoughts. "I actually used to wonder that myself from time to time. You know...why I had this overwhelming desire to see you smile, or make you laugh, or just get more than two words out of you. Why it mattered so much to me."
Harry was listening with rapt attention, and she felt oddly self-conscious as she continued.
"But I think one day it just...sort of dawned on me, you know?" she said, tracing a small scratch on the table with her finger as she remembered some of their early interactions. "You came in here—dark circles under your eyes, your hair a mess, scowl on your face—and I just remember thinking…"
Harry's lips parted as she met his gaze.
"That I'd never seen someone look as tired as you," she finished, her eyes flitting across his face and noting the subtle differences there. "Like you had the world on your shoulders. Like you were so alone…"
Abby licked her lips and gave him an apologetic look. "Maybe I thought that I could help," she said in a quiet voice. "Silly, I know."
Her words hung in the air for a moment as Harry considered them. "You saw all that just from me staring broodily out the window?" he said finally.
She shrugged with a sad smile. "I already knew what it looked like."
Harry closed his eyes for a moment and nodded before taking her hand in his and squeezing it gently.
The movement took her by surprise, but she hid it well. "Anyway, I don't resent you for it, Harry. Not one bit of it. But if you want to start over, we can start over," she said, brushing her thumb across his knuckles. "Just know that you were never rude to me. Only honest. I've always appreciated that about you."
Harry's gaze was fixed on their hands as he nodded slowly. "Honest," he repeated, his eyebrows drawn together.
"Well," Abby said with a little smile. "Besides the whole magic thing of course, but...I understand why you kept that from me."
She was hoping that would clear his frown away, but Harry barely acknowledged her words. He seemed to be thinking very deeply about something.
"You all right?" she said, eventually.
"Are you free this Saturday?"
Abby drew back a bit. "Erm...yeah, why?"
He slid his hand back from hers. "I just wanted to...talk," he said, looking up at her. "More. About stuff."
Her heart sped up at his words. Whether out of nerves, fear, or excitement, she wasn't sure. But something told her that this would be an important conversation. Something they couldn't talk about at noon on a Monday, surrounded by strangers.
And apparently they could talk about a lot.
"Yeah, definitely," she said.
"Good," he said with a nod. "That's good because, erm..."
Harry cut off, his eyes drifting above her head for a second, his face unreadable. She turned around to find Bradley walking towards them and cursed internally at his bad timing.
"Hey, Abby," he said, parking himself in front of them and stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I'm, er...heading out. But I left the details for you on my table."
It took a moment for her to process his words, but then she nodded with a smile. "Right, yeah, thanks," she said, trying not to sound too abrupt. "I'll try my best to make it."
He grinned. "Good, cause I'll be looking out for you, you know," he said with a wink that made her feel somewhat uncomfortable.
Abby knew he had a bit of a crush on her. It had been rather obvious even before he'd left his number for her last week. And though she tried her best not to encourage it, she couldn't exactly stop being nice to him, either.
Besides, she enjoyed his company for the most part. Sure he talked her ears off sometimes, but they did have some great discussions together about music.
"Hi, there," Bradley said, snapping Abby out of her musings. He'd turned to face Harry as if just noticing him, the latter watching the interaction with a somewhat bored expression on his face. "Sorry...didn't mean to interrupt."
Somehow his tone suggested otherwise.
Harry waved a hand in front of him. "Oh, by all means. Pretend I'm not even here," he said in a polite voice that Abby had only ever heard him use with his old headmistress at Hogwarts. Though, judging by the subtle clench to his jaw, she didn't think this particular instance was borne out of respect.
"Friend of Abby's, are you?" Bradley said, throwing a grin her way. "She's got a lot of 'em."
Abby smiled back, secretly wishing that he could just wrap this up and leave. The tension in the air was way too thick for comfort.
"You could say that, yeah," Harry said with a thoughtful nod.
Bradley frowned, looking annoyed by his vague response. "More of a yes or no question, I'd think."
"You would think that, wouldn't you?" Harry said.
"What the hell is that supposed to—"
"Yes, we're friends," Abby said, before they could carry on with this weird verbal spar. "Though, you could have just asked me that, couldn't you?"
Bradley had the decency to look sheepish. "Right...yeah, sorry," he said, shifting his weight on his feet. "Anyway, erm...I'll see you Thursday?"
"I'll try my best," Abby repeated.
He nodded, giving her shoulder a light squeeze before bidding them farewell and leaving.
Harry watched him go. "Pleasant bloke," he said, looking back at her.
"Don't start," Abby said, holding up a hand. "He's only feeling insecure because he's jealous of you for whatever reason."
He gave her an innocent look. "I haven't said a word," he said, eyebrows raised. "And anyway, since when does being insecure allow you to act like a wanker? He was clearly being rude to me, and I was only trying to be polite."
Abby rolled her eyes. "Whatever...I'd like to be done with this conversation, now," she said, standing up and taking his empty coffee cup. "Shall I go fill this for you?"
"If you'd be so kind."
She turned with a loud exhale and made her way to the back where she found Maggie staring at her with barely concealed glee.
"What?" Abby said, reaching around her for the coffee pot.
"Erm, what the hell was going on over there?" she said with wide eyes. "I saw Bradley go over to your table. You could practically see the steam coming out of both his and Harry's nostrils."
Abby gave an unconcerned shrug. "I don't really know," she said, pouring the coffee. "Maybe they were asserting their dominance over each other or something."
Maggie clicked her tongue. "How are you being so nonchalant about this?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean the guy you're practically in love with was just having it out with the guy who's practically in love with you!" she said in a loud whisper. "That's definitely cause for a reaction."
Abby didn't bother mentioning that she wasn't 'practically in love' with Harry. Instead, she pointed to the cup in her hand and nodded her head in his direction. "I better get this to him before it gets cold."
"Hey," Maggie said before she could turn around.
"Yeah?"
The girl approached her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Chin up," she said, giving her a comforting squeeze. "It's clear as day that he has feelings for you. You should be happy about this."
Abby let out a long sigh and glanced down at the cup in her hands. "Maybe. It's just...I'm always reading into every little thing he does, and I hate it. It's driving me mad," she said, placing the cup back down with a bit more force than necessary. "If he truly has feelings for me, then he should just tell me that. He's a grown man, I'm sure he can find the words."
Maggie gave her a small frown. "Well, couldn't you say the same for yourself?"
"No," she said, firmly. "He has to be the one to make the first move."
"Why?"
"Because he just does," Abby said in frustration. "It's not a bloody gender thing, either. It's...it's just complicated, all right? He's the one setting the pace of our relationship, he always has been."
Maggie crossed her arms and tutted loudly. "Well, that's crap."
"No...it's not," Abby said in a tired voice. "It's just the way it is."
The words sounded wrong even to her own ears, but Abby understood what Maggie didn't. That despite everything she and Harry had discussed earlier, the fact remained that she'd been the one to push him into their friendship all those months ago. And that sometimes, in her most insecure of moments, she still found herself questioning the genuineness of it.
If they were to ever develop their relationship into something more, Abby needed—needed—Harry to be the one to initiate it. She couldn't spend the rest of her life questioning this, too.
"Fine," Maggie said with a sigh. "Not my business, I suppose. But I hope it works out the way you want it to."
Abby smiled at her. "Thank you," she said, turning to replace the now lukewarm coffee with a fresh cup.
Maggie gave her a nod of encouragement before she made her way back to Harry's table.
"Everything okay?" he said as soon as she approached. He'd clearly seen her and Maggie talking in hushed tones.
But Abby merely nodded as she took a seat, wishing to forget about everything for just a moment and simply enjoy Harry's company. She'd yet to find a better distraction than the frustrating, wonderful man in front of her—the irony of which was not lost on her.
"Tell me something," she said, after he took a sip of his coffee.
"Like what?"
She shrugged. "Something interesting...funny," she said. "Something about the kids."
Harry put his cup down and thought for a moment, before a small smile spread over his face.
Abby loved that smile. It was a special one he reserved just for his children. She'd bottle it up if she could and take it with her everywhere.
"Well...Lily's learnt a brand new word this week," he said with a laugh. "I, er, stubbed my toe the other day and said 'bullocks' really loudly in front of her. I didn't think she was paying attention, but then later when I was trying to get her to bed...she stomped her foot on the ground and went 'Blocks, Daddy, I'm not tired!'"
Abby snorted loudly and covered her face with her hand.
"She keeps saying it now whenever she's angry, and I don't know what to do," Harry said in amusement. "Last time I told one of my kids not to say a swear word, they made it their mission in life to do the exact opposite. So now I'm just hoping she'll forget about it before anyone realises what she's actually saying."
"Oh God," Abby said with a giggle. "She's too adorable for words, that one."
He grinned widely at her. "Yeah...she's all right."
Abby rolled her eyes at him as she folded her arms on the table and rested her head on top of them. In the time left before they both had to go back to work, she listened with rapt attention as Harry continued to share stories of his kids with her, making her smile and laugh and shake her head. All the while, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered quietly, reminding her of the very real possibility that this might be all she was ever going to get.
Snapshots of Harry's life.
Rushed moments during a break from work.
A rare Saturday night.
Two good friends sharing everything and nothing with each other all at once.
Was it greedy to want more? To need more?
And what would happen if she never got it?
God, if Harry could hear her thoughts now…
Being a nuisance to him would be the least of their problems.
"Hello?" Harry said, brushing some soot off his clothes. "Anyone home?"
He walked into the kitchen and looked out the window into the back garden where he found Andromeda on her knees in front of the flower beds. She was deep into her gardening, looking somehow just as put together as she always did.
"Hey," Harry called, sticking his head out the window.
Andi looked towards the sound. "Hey yourself," she said, wiping her brow and beckoning him over.
Harry made his way outside and sat down on a bench near her, not surprised when she tossed him a pair of dragon-hide gloves.
"Make yourself useful," she said, gesturing towards the plants in front of her. "These pods need to be harvested, but mind your gaze. They don't like to be stared at from the stem down. It makes them shy, and then they start to shrivel up."
"I'll be a proper gentleman, then," Harry said, sitting down beside her and accepting the bucket she offered him. "Where's your grandson?"
"Having a shower," she said, pulling out a stubborn weed from the ground. "Only just got in, so he should be another week or so."
Harry smiled as he shook his head. "I told him I'd be round at noon."
She nodded. "That's Teddy for you."
They worked in silence for a few moments before Andi deemed Harry competent enough to harvest and talk at the same time.
"How are things?" she said, nudging his elbow with her own.
Harry shrugged. "Same as always," he said, using his arm to wipe at his forehead. "Kids are going back to school soon."
"Yes, that's right..."
"James keeps dropping hints about what he wants for his birthday even though it's still two months away."
She shook her head in amusement. "That boy..."
"Lily's stopped fighting with Lucy, and thank goodness for that. If I had to hear one more lecture from Percy…"
"Well, can you blame him?"
"And Al came to work with me last week," Harry said with a smile. "We spent the whole day together, just us. It was nice. I think we bonded a bit."
"Oh, that's lovely to hear."
"And...yeah. That's about it, I suppose."
Andi hummed in response. "And you?"
Harry looked at her. "Me, what?"
"How are you doing?"
"I've just told you," he said.
Andi chuckled and shook her head. "No," she said. "You've told me about your children. I'd like to hear about you, now."
Harry paused, searching for something to say that was even remotely interesting. "Work is good."
"I'm glad," she said in a tone that told him to continue.
But Harry only shrugged. "That's all I've got, I'm afraid."
Andi tutted loudly as she pulled out a particularly stubborn weed. "Well, that won't do, will it?" she muttered.
He stared at her, wondering if she was talking to him or the plant.
A few seconds of silence passed before she spoke up again.
"How's that friend of yours?" she said, as if just remembering. "The muggle?"
Harry winced a bit, not liking the way that sounded. 'The muggle.'
Not 'the one at your birthday party' or 'the one who's a waitress but actually plays piano' or 'the one with the bright eyes, warm smile, and fun personality'.
Just...the muggle.
As if that were the most important thing about her.
Harry shook his head as he focused back on the question. Perhaps he was just overreacting. He knew Andromeda wasn't prejudiced. She'd married a bloody muggle-born and got burnt off her family tree for it, for God's sake.
"She's good," he said, feeling a bit guilty about his thoughts. "We're, er...we're good."
Andi sighed heavily and turned to look at him. "It's like pulling teeth with you, isn't it?" she said in exasperation.
Harry gave her an awkward smile. "Sorry," he said. "Nothing else to say, really."
Besides the fact that you were right, and I have feelings for her.
She waved his apology away. "I'm well used to it by now from that one," she said, pointing her thumb up towards Teddy's window. "Doesn't tell me a thing, does he? I've only just found out he's been writing a girl all summer, and it's nearly the start of term. Claims she's only a friend, but his hair tells another story."
Happy for the change of subject, Harry raised his eyebrows in interest. "Is that so?"
"Turns bright yellow every time her owl shows up at the window," she said with a bit of a sly look. "And you know it only does that whenever someone mentions that Quidditch star... what's-her-name from the team he likes so much..."
"Cressida Jones," Harry said. He was fairly sure the woman, whose posters took up a whole wall of Teddy's room, was responsible for the boy's sexual awakening.
"Yes, well, he's been very tight-lipped about this classmate of his," Andi said, brushing the dirt off her gloves. "But I'm telling you, it's been all yellow hair for him this summer."
Harry snorted. "Poor Ted," he said, shaking his head. "He'll have to learn to get a handle on that quick."
"Get a handle on what?" Teddy's voice came from behind them. He walked up and took a peak over their heads at the bucket of pods, but Andromeda quickly shooed him away. "What are you two old ladies nattering about, anyway?"
"Cressida Jones," Harry said without missing a beat. "I was just saying how I ran into her the other day at the Ministry, and she asked me for my autograph."
Teddy's mouth literally popped open. "You're lying," he said, the tips of his hair turning yellow.
"No, mate," Harry insisted. "She's got a poster of me in her room and everything. I think she's quite the fan—"
Teddy immediately tackled Harry to the ground, sitting on top of him with one of his bony knees digging into Harry's diaphragm.
"You're lying!" he said again, this time louder.
"Edward Remus Lupin!' Andromeda said. "Get off him this instant. You'd think you were four instead of fourteen!"
But Harry only let out a bark of laughter and pushed Teddy away. "Easy there, tiger. Yes, I'm lying, all right?"
"Knew it," Teddy said, bouncing back up on his feet with a satisfied smile. "Bloody hell, don't joke like that."
"Language," Andi said, as she stood up and placed the two buckets in Teddy's hands before dusting her robes off. "Now, put those in the greenhouse and fetch me the watering can on the third shelf. Go on."
Teddy rolled his eyes but did as he was told.
"Harry," she said, turning to him as soon as the boy was out of earshot. "Talk to him, will you? About this girl business."
Harry raised an eyebrow as he stood up, as well. "Er, you mean like…about..."
Andi clicked her tongue. "No, no, not that," she said with a wave of her hand. "For goodness' sake, he knows about that. Just find out more about her. You know...her name, how old she is, what House she's in…that sort of thing."
"You want me to gather intel on a teenage girl?" Harry said.
"If that's what you want to call it, Harry Potter, then yes," she said, placing her hands on her hips. "Just do it for the sake of an old woman's heart."
Harry gave her a look of amusement. "Fine, but I don't know what you expect to—"
She made a quick shushing motion with her hand, and he turned to see Teddy walking back toward them.
"What?" the boy said, pausing in his step and frowning.
Andromeda took the watering can from his hands. "Never you mind," she said brusquely. "Now off you go then, both of you. Those books aren't going to buy themselves."
She turned back to Harry who was attempting to keep a straight face and pointed a finger at him. "No gifts, you understand? Especially not from that wretched wheezes shop," she said. "His trunk's already bursting at the seams."
"That's a bit disrespectful to George, calling his shop 'wretched', don't you think?" Teddy said, crossing his arms.
"He'll get over it," Andromeda said.
Harry wrapped an arm around Teddy's neck before he could respond and pushed him toward the edge of the garden. Then with a quick shout of farewell, they apparated away.
"Right, anything else you need besides your textbooks?"
Harry took the packages from Teddy's arms and shrunk them to fit into his pocket. They'd beat the midday rush as Harry had hoped and were now heading to the Leaky Cauldron for a spot of lunch.
"I'll have a gold cauldron if you're offering," Teddy said.
Harry gave him a look. "You ask me that every year, and every year I say no."
"Yes, why is that?"
"Because you'd look like a tosser with one, that's why," Harry said, nodding his head at a man who'd stopped in his tracks at the sight of him. "Trust me, nothing is more snotty than a kid with extravagant school supplies."
Teddy looked up at him. "Says the one who had a Firebolt while he was Hogwarts."
"Yes, exactly," Harry said with a nod. "If you think I was popular at school, then you're sorely mistaken."
Teddy raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, right."
"Oh, just ask Ron," Harry said, steering him towards the entrance of the pub. "He'll be more than happy to enlighten you."
As they walked into the Leaky Cauldron, Harry was immediately greeted with several nods of acknowledgment causing Teddy to roll his eyes and mumble something that sounded like 'not popular, my arse'. But Harry ignored him as he led them to a table in the back where they were less likely to be bothered. Most people had the good sense to steer clear of him while he was with his children, but every once in a while a determined idiot or two pushed their way into his personal space.
"So...how's life?" Harry said.
Teddy immediately held up a hand. "No, thanks."
"Wha—?" Harry said, pausing with his mouth open. "I only asked a question."
"That was more than a question, and you know it," Teddy said, grabbing the two menus that floated towards them and opening one up. "Don't think I don't know what you and Andromeda were whispering about earlier."
Harry sighed and settled back in his chair. "Your grandmother is only looking out for you, you know," he said, grabbing his own menu. "She's not asking for much, just a few details."
"I don't see the point," Teddy said with a shrug. "What exactly is she so worried about? It's not as if I'm going to marry this girl. We haven't even—"
Harry held up his own hand now. "No, thanks."
"Snogged," Teddy said anyway. "Speaking of…"
At this, the boy shifted in his chair a bit and looked off to the side.
Harry frowned. "What?" he said slowly.
With the tips of his hair turning a light shade of pink, Teddy spoke again. "Out of curiosity...how old were you when...you know...you kissed a girl for the first time?" he said this last part very fast.
Trying his best to appear casual about this new topic, Harry answered. "Er, well...fifteen, I believe."
Teddy's eyes bugged out at that. "Bloody hell, that old?" he said.
Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean, 'that old'? I was only a year older than you are now, thank you very much."
"Yeah, well…" Teddy said with a half-shrug. "There's a big difference between fourteen and fifteen, isn't there."
"No, I don't believe there is," Harry said, crossing his arms.
But Teddy only smirked to himself. "Guess you were right about not being popular, then," he mumbled.
Harry chose not to dignify that with a response. And they were thankfully cut off from further discussion by the arrival of Hannah who paused to make a bit of small talk before taking their orders and returning to the bar.
"Anyway," Teddy said, taking a sip of his drink. "You can let Grandmum know she's a Ravenclaw 4th year called Ida Baron whose approximately 5'2'' and has blonde hair and blue eyes. She's cute, smart, funny, and I fancy her. So there."
Harry stared at him for a moment and then gave a single nod. "I will pass that message along."
"Thanks."
The ease with which Teddy rattled off that information left Harry oddly impressed. When it was him telling Hermione about his feelings for Abby, he'd practically had to dig the words out of his throat, nowhere near as confident or straight to the point.
Perhaps it was just a product of being young. But then, if he really thought about it, he was fairly sure he'd never been confident enough to voice his own feelings towards anyone, let alone a crush.
Maybe it was time to take a leaf out of Teddy's book.
Harry pushed the thought aside for later. Their food arrived, and they both tucked in, chatting about much lighter topics, now. All the while the gift Harry had brought for Teddy was burning a hole through his robe pocket. He felt inexplicably nervous to give it to him, unsure of what his reaction would be. He'd been relieved to find that it had taken him less time than he'd thought to put it all together. But that gnawing feeling of guilt still rose in him that he'd waited too long. That it was somehow too late.
Casting a muffliato, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled the gift out, using his wand to enlarge it. He kept it on his lap under the table as he addressed Teddy.
"So, erm...I sort of got you a gift," Harry said, holding it tight in his hands. "And seeing as you're leaving in a few days, I wanted to give it to you now."
Teddy's eyebrows went up in interest. "Well, give it here, then," he said with a smile.
Harry licked his lips and stared at the photo album for a moment before handing it over to him. "Sorry it's not wrapped," he said quietly as Teddy took it and gazed at the cover with an unreadable expression.
On it was a picture of Remus, Tonks, and a newborn Teddy—both parents smiling happily and waving. Tonks' hair a bold magenta, Remus looking uncharacteristically relaxed.
"I know you have a few pictures of them already, but I reckon there's a lot in there you haven't seen before," Harry said, his eyes fixed on Teddy's face. "Some even I haven't seen—letters, too. In the back. I thought you might like to read those. It's all from family and friends."
Teddy flipped through the pages slowly, as if afraid of damaging them.
"The thing is," Harry said, shifting forward in his seat. "I know what it's like when you hear stories about your parents. You get this idea of them in your head, but...they just don't seem like real people, somehow."
At this, Teddy met his eyes and gave a small nod.
"Photographs helped me, though," Harry said, gesturing towards the album. "A letter my mum wrote, too. I found it years later, but it was the first time I really felt like I knew her, you know?"
Teddy looked back down at the book, his finger tracing over something on one of the pages. "Thanks for this," he said quietly.
Harry's lips parted. "Of course," he said, his voice low. "I should've done it sooner, though."
The boy regarded him with a frown. "What do you mean?"
Harry shrugged. "I just...I'd always planned to do this for you at the start of your first year," he said, giving him a sad smile. "I got a similar gift from Hagrid during mine, and I remember how much it meant to me."
The words brought a thoughtful look to Teddy's face. "So, why didn't you?" he said. "Give it to me, then, I mean."
His tone held no accusation, but it still caused Harry's gut to twist in shame.
He hadn't planned this part of the conversation, unsure of how much detail he wanted to give. Teddy was a perceptive boy. He always had been. And perhaps he already knew what Harry was going to say, but had enough tact to let him share on his own terms.
"Well...I was out of it, to be honest," Harry said, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head. "For months after Ginny died. I was so out of it, I can barely even remember it all."
Teddy stared it at him, a small wrinkle on his forehead.
"It's no excuse, but I just want you to know that I'm sorry," Harry said, looking him in the eye. "I hate that I didn't write you enough letters then, and I didn't give you enough advice. Even now I didn't notice you've been owling some girl all summer until your grandmother told me. And I feel like such an arse about all of it."
At this Teddy rolled his eyes.
"But that's the worst part," Harry said, swallowing hard. "It's still happening, isn't it. Even after all this time, I'm still not noticing things."
Teddy gave a half-shrug. "I wouldn't say that," he said. "I mean...you're only human, aren't you? You can't keep track of everything."
Harry shook his head and stared down at the table.
"Ted...you were there for Albus when I wasn't. You noticed that," he said, his voice coming out gravelly. "For that alone, I owe you the world. At the very least, my attention."
A small sigh escaped Teddy in response. "I don't need your attention, Harry. Not all of it," he insisted. "I've got Grandmum to remember all the boring details of my life. But I've got you for the other stuff."
"Like what, exactly?" Harry said.
Teddy gestured vaguely in the air. "I dunno...like this," he said, picking up the photo album. "Like...telling me not to buy gold cauldrons. And...making me feel better because you were a loser who didn't get kissed until he was fifteen."
A smile broke across Harry's face at that.
"The important things in life, you know," Teddy finished with a shrug. "That's what I've got you for, Harry."
Feeling his throat tighten a bit in response, Harry nodded. "That's, erm...that's good."
Teddy gave him a look of amusement. "Yeah. It is," he said, nodding with him. "Now...how's about we stop with all this gushy crap, and you order us a couple of pints, eh? That will definitely make up for all your shortcomings."
Harry let out a loud laugh and leaned back in his chair. "Nice try."
"Aw, go on. Hannah wouldn't mind."
"I'd mind."
Teddy raised an eyebrow.
"Fine, your grandmother would mind," Harry said. "Now shut up and finish your meal. You can ask me again in two years, and we'll see how I'm feeling then."
Grumbling quietly, Teddy did as he was told. But not without threatening to ask Ron instead, to which Harry vehemently put his foot down.
Something was off.
Abby could tell as soon as Harry opened his front door that evening, dressed rather nicely in black jeans she'd never seen before and a grey oxford shirt. She'd been under the impression that he only owned white shirts.
"Hey," he said, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek before wrapping his arms around her.
Just like that.
As though they'd always greeted each other this way.
Abby froze for a second and then hugged him back, noticing right away that he was wearing that cologne again. The one from the wedding on Saturday that did something pleasant to her insides every time she breathed it in.
Was he intentionally trying to drive her insane? Making himself as appealing as possible like a male peacock during mating season or something?
Was he trying to mate with her?
Oh, God...was that what this was all about? Did he want to proposition her for sex? Is that why he asked her here?
Because her answer would most definitely be a hard no.
Definitely.
Definitely?
…
…
...
Maybe.
Abby swallowed hard as she followed Harry inside the house, trying not to notice the way his clothes hugged his body a bit more snugly in some places than usual.
The audacity, she thought to herself as he took a seat on the couch and beckoned for her to sit beside him.
Trying to seduce her...
Well, the joke was on him because he was about three months too late. She'd already been seduced, thank you very much.
Harry turned to face Abby as she took a seat, his leg brushing against hers and spreading a small wave of heat throughout her body.
And then he just left it there.
Seriously, the audacity.
"So...what did you want to talk about?" Abby said, bracing herself for the worst.
She folded her hands primly in her lap and stared at him.
"Oh…" he said, shifting in his seat. "We're just going to jump right in, are we?"
Abby cleared her throat. "Yes, well. You know I'm impatient, so just...out with it, please."
Harry smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I do wish it were that simple, but...unfortunately this is something that's rather hard to explain. And I'm not sure how you're going to react to it."
The words didn't do much to ease her earlier suspicions, but one look at Harry's face told her this might be more serious than she'd originally thought.
"Well...you explained magic to me, Harry," she said with a small laugh. "If my brain guts are still intact after that, I think they can handle anything."
"Your brain guts aren't what I'm worried about this time," he said.
She frowned. "Oh," she said. "Then...what are you worried about? You're not a murderer, are you? Because my heart guts couldn't take that."
"No," he said, rubbing his face. "No, I'm not a murderer."
Abby blew out a small breath and leant back against the couch. To be honest, Harry had a point to worry about her. She wasn't sure if she could take anymore earth-shattering secrets. It had been shocking enough to learn he had kids. But then he told her about magic and flipped her whole world upside down.
Nearly a month had gone by, and she still questioned if her brain wasn't playing tricks on her.
Could there really be something even harder to explain than magic? Her mind couldn't fathom such a subject.
And yet, Harry had that same look on his face as he did then. Like there was a large weight on his shoulders that he wanted so desperately to get rid of but didn't know how.
"Is it bad?" she said, wringing her fingers together in her lap.
She really wished she could stop having to ask him that question.
"It's...not exactly good," Harry said.
"Oh, God," Abby said, covering her face with her hands. "Why do you do this to me, Harry? Why?"
His only response was to wrap a comforting arm around her and bring her head in to rest against his shoulder.
And though it was definitely comfortable. It was also annoying.
Because there he went again with all the touching. All the smelling nice and the being gentle.
There he went again making her fall more and more in love with him only to upend her entire concept of who he was.
Harry the grump. Harry the dad. Harry the wizard.
What was next? What other version of him was there?
And when would she finally get to know Harry, the whole person?
Abby let out a long breath, bringing her arms around his neck and squeezing tight, as though afraid he might slip away.
Because she knew in the deepest recesses of her heart that it didn't even matter. That she'd love any version of him there was.
And perhaps that was the part that worried her the most.
"Just tell me, please," she said, leaning back so she could look him at him. "Whatever it is. I can handle it."
Harry's eyes travelled across her face. "How can you be sure about that?"
She gave a half-shrug. "That's my secret to share," she said with a sad smile. "But just know that I am—very, very sure."
Something flickered across Harry's face, but she didn't say anything more on the subject. She was playing with fire, she knew that. But it couldn't be helped.
"Go on, then," she said softly. "It's okay."
She let her fingers run lightly through the hair at the back of Harry's head. And he closed his eyes in response, her touch seeming to relax him.
When he opened them again, Abby noted with surprise that they looked a bit shiny. And for a moment, he simply stared at her, his breaths coming out shallow.
But then he blinked a few times, and it was gone.
Clearing his throat, Harry leaned forward and rested his elbows against his knees. "You know...I've gone over how to explain this to you so many times in my mind, and I'm still at a loss," he said, shaking his head. "But maybe it's best if I just...start at the beginning."
Abby tucked her hands under her knees. "It's a good place to start," she said.
He nodded slowly as he stared down at the floor. "I told you once that my parents died when I was a baby," he said, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "But I never told you how."
Abby's heart skipped a beat.
She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but this definitely wasn't it.
"Well...they were murdered."
Her mouth fell open at once.
"What?" she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief.
A million questions flew through her mind at once, but only one managed to escape her lips as she continued to stare at him in shock. "By who?"
"A man called Voldemort. A wizard," Harry said, his face drawn into a frown as he stared off into space. "There was, erm...there was a war going on in our world at the time. A sort of rebellion, and he was leading it. I won't go into all the details now, but...he killed my parents, and he tried to kill me, too. I—obviously—survived."
"He tried to kill you?" Abby said, turning her entire body to face him now. "You? A baby?"
Harry merely nodded. "There's a spell called the Killing Curse," he said. "A bright green light...it hits you once, and you're dead. And there's no way to defend yourself against it."
A small breath escaped her lips. "So, he used that on your parents."
He nodded again.
"But not you?" she said.
Harry ran a hand through his hair before straightening up once more. "He did, actually."
"But you said—"
"I know."
They stared at each other for a moment before Harry spoke again.
"When my mother died, she sacrificed herself to save me," he said. "And...for whatever reason this created some sort of blood protection. It's ancient and complex magic. I can't really explain it. But she saved my life."
Abby took his hand in hers without thinking and grasped it tightly.
"When Voldemort tried to use the Killing Curse on me, it rebounded and hit him instead," Harry said, staring down at their hands. "It essentially killed him."
"Essentially?"
Harry met her eyes and nodded. "It's a very long and very complicated story," he said. "And maybe one day, I'll share it with you. But right now, you just need to understand the basics, all right?"
"Yeah," she said, squeezing his hand once more.
He licked his lips and continued. "He was as good as dead after that. Lost all his power and disappeared for years. Most people believed he was dead," Harry said in a tone that suggested that it was a ridiculous notion. "Because they desperately wanted it to be true. That's the thing...he was an absolute monster, Voldemort. Hated muggles and muggle-borns, and wanted to rid the world of them, enslave them, have power over them. He thought it would purify the wizarding race."
Abby felt something heavy settle in her stomach. "Like Hitler, then?" she said.
Harry nodded. "He was pure evil. The worst kind of human. Barely even human by the time he rose to power."
A realisation suddenly struck Abby as she processed his words, one that shook her to the very core and made her pulse beat loudly in her ears.
No.
It couldn't be.
"Harry?" she breathed.
He stared at her, his expression unreadable. "Yeah?"
Abby's eyes roved over his face, taking in every small detail as if seeing him for the first time.
And perhaps she was.
Seeing Harry, completely, for the first time.
"I get it," she whispered, her eyes starting to well up beyond her control as she stood and faced him. "My God, Harry..."
She glanced up at the ceiling for a second to get a hold of her emotions before looking back at him.
"You're the reason he's gone," she said, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. "You destroyed wizard Hitler. As a baby."
"Yeah...I did," he said in such a casual manner one would think they were discussing household chores. "They called me the Boy-Who-Lived after that. Because no one has ever survived the Killing Curse before."
"The Boy-Who-Lived," Abby mouthed to herself as she began pacing in front of him.
"I was their hero. Their saviour. Every witch and wizard knew my name," he said, his voice flat. "They still do. Unfortunately."
She shook her head, trying to process everything he was saying.
"There was a second war years later," Harry said, leaning back against the couch and following her with his eyes. "Voldemort returned to power when I was fourteen, and he was very determined to kill me this time. He didn't succeed—obviously. And when I was seventeen, we faced off in battle. He tried to use the Killing Curse on me again. And it backfired again. This time, though, he was without a doubt, 100% dead as a doorknob."
Abby stood in front of him, one hand on her hip, and the other palming her forehead. "Seventeen?" she nearly squeaked. "You killed wizard Hitler when you were seventeen."
"I didn't kill him," Harry said, raising a finger in protest. "Remember, I'm not a murderer. The idiot killed himself."
"Harry, I—" she said, placing both hands on her forehead now as she started pacing once more. "How are you being so casual about all this? I can't even—I don't—"
"Abby," Harry said, causing her to stop in her tracks and look at him. "I am not normal. Even by wizard standards. I never was. That's what I'm trying to tell you. It's what I need you to understand."
She let out a long, shaky breath. "I—I understand."
"No...I don't think you do," he said, his voice growing heavy. "Every single witch and wizard in this country—maybe even the world—knows my name. People either worship me or want me dead. And the few who don't are the ones who know me personally. If I walk down any magical street, everyone turns their heads. If I go somewhere, if I do something, if I bloody breathe a certain way, you can guarantee that somebody will have written an article about it in the paper the next day."
"I am not normal," he repeated.
Abby sat down on the table in front of him, her legs practically giving way underneath her. She didn't know what to think or how to feel. Only that her stomach felt like lead and her thoughts were racing. And that even though they were barely inches apart, Harry had never seemed so far away from her.
Because he was suddenly more—bigger, brighter, better than she'd ever known.
This was it. This was Harry, the whole person. And he intimidated the bloody hell out of her.
Abby gazed at him for a moment, taking in his slouched posture and the lines of stress on his forehead.
And the scar.
She'd never paid much attention to it before, never asked how he'd got it. But she could remember thinking, ages ago, how odd it looked.
A perfect lightning bolt.
What on earth could cause a scar like that?
Seeing where her eyes landed, Harry lifted his fringe a bit to give her a better view.
"That's where…" Abby said.
He nodded.
"Can I…?" she said, reaching her hand out.
"Knock yourself out."
Abby swallowed hard before bringing her fingers up to lightly trace his scar. Her lips parted, staring at it in wonder.
"There's so much I don't know about you, isn't there?" she said softly, her fingers moving along his forehead and down to his cheek where they traced another, less prominent scar there.
Harry placed his hand on top of hers and met her eyes. They were so close, she could see all the different shades of green that made up his irises.
"There is, yeah," he said, his voice coming out a bit gruff. "But there's so much you do know. And so much I want to tell you."
Abby looked away, her face forming into a slight grimace.
"What?" Harry said, placing his hand on her chin and shifting it back towards him.
"Harry, I…" she said, shaking her head.
"You...?"
She tried to avoid his eyes, but they just kept pulling her in like a bloody forcefield. "How do I explain this without sounding like an overdramatic teenager," she said, pressing her hands together in front of her mouth. "I am...nothing compared to you. And I'm okay with that. You've set the bar entirely too high. However, I am a bit embarrassed that I ever thought—"
"Stop it," Harry said. "Right now."
The words came out like a hiss, and Abby's eyes widened at the look of anger on his face.
"I'm just telling it how it is, Harry," she said. "You can't deny there's a huge, gaping difference between us. Even before you told me any of this stuff."
Harry's eyes bored into hers. "You're wrong," he said, his face growing flushed. "You are so fucking wrong, it's not even funny. I didn't tell you all this stuff to make you feel inferior. I told you because I needed you to understand."
Abby opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off.
"I'm a piece of shit compared to you, is what I am," he said, his voice growing louder. "I've let down every single person in my life, including my own children. I'm a nightmare of a colleague and a terrible friend. I don't eat or sleep or comb my hair enough, and most of the time I look like I'm half-dead. So don't you dare sit there and tell me that you're nothing compared to me when you're bloody everything."
He slammed his fist hard against the couch before leaning forward and dropping his head into his hands.
And Abby just sat there, frozen, his words ringing in her ears.
"Harry—"
But then his lips were on hers.
And her heart dove straight down to her stomach, and every nerve-ending in her body came to life at once. Abby immediately returned the kiss, parting her lips for him and clutching at his hair as though afraid he might slip away.
"Fuck," Harry whispered against her, pressing a few more short kisses to her mouth before resting his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry, I didn't—"
But Abby merely grabbed him by the collar and continued where they left off, never wanting to be separated from his lips again.
Harry, thankfully, seemed to have a similar idea in mind as he pulled her on top of him and sat back against the couch. She had to stop herself from letting out an embarrassing moan of pleasure, but Christ did he know how to kiss.
"Abby," he said, holding her face in his hands and breathing somewhat heavily. "This is okay, right? I mean...obviously it's okay, but...is this...did you want this? Before?"
She smiled at him in amusement, placing her hands on his chest and dragging them up to his shoulders. "Oh, you can't even begin to imagine how much I wanted this," she said, brushing her fingers through his hair simply because she could.
God, she couldn't stop touching him.
Harry seemed to notice because he grinned at her as he took both her hands in his. "So...even after what I told you today…?"
Abby frowned at him. "Are you mad?" she said. "That made you about ten times hotter than you already were. And that's saying something."
"You think I'm hot, do you?" he said, raising an eyebrow at her.
"Dreadfully so," she said.
"Well, I happen to think pretty damn ad—"
"Don't say adorable," Abby said, dropping her head to his shoulder. "For once, can I be something other than adorable?"
Harry tried and failed to hold back a smile. "I was going to say admirable," he said with a shrug. "You're pretty damn admirable for putting up with me for all this time."
Abby rolled her eyes at him.
"You're also beautiful," he said.
"Gag," she said, pretending to stick a finger down her throat.
Harry laughed as he rested his head back against the couch. "What would you like to be called then?"
"Sexy!" Abby said, pounding a fist against his chest. "I want to be sexy. Why am I never sexy?"
Pressing his lips together, Harry turned his head to the side.
"Oh my word, are you blushing?" Abby practically squealed, leaning her head in to get a better look at him. "Harry Potter, you are thirty years old. Get a grip, man."
"Oh, piss off," he said, pushing her off him.
Abby giggled shamelessly as she landed next to him on the couch, throwing her head back and staring at the ceiling. Feeling like she might float away from happiness.
Harry kissed her.
She kissed Harry.
Harry was the saviour of the wizarding world.
That particular thought lingered for a moment, causing her impossibly giddy mood to drop just a little bit.
Abby turned her head to look at Harry only to find him already staring back at her.
"What were you thinking about just now?" he said, brushing a finger against her cheek. "Your blinding smile got a bit less blinding."
She let out a small laugh and shook her head. "Nothing, just...this isn't going to be very easy, is it?" she said with a wistful look. "Assuming you—you know...want this to be more."
Harry closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. "Nothing is ever easy when it comes to me, I'm afraid," he said. "That's what I've been trying to tell you."
"And I do want this to be more, for the record," he added, much to her relief.
Abby bit her bottom lip and considered his words. "This can be easy," she said, taking his hand in hers and locking their fingers together. "Everything else in the world could be hell, but we can make this easy."
Harry stared down at their hands and let out a heavy sigh. "I want to believe that's possible," he said. "Please don't doubt that I do. It's just..."
She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips—the simple contact setting her heart aflame. "It's just nothing," she said with a shrug. "We can give it a shot. That's all. Are you willing to give it a shot, Harry?"
He let out a ragged breath. "God, yeah," he said, pulling her in for another kiss that lasted much longer than the ones before. "So, so willing."
Abby smiled against his lips, pushing all thoughts of the future to the side for now.
