Chapter Text
"Ready for tonight?"
Harry pulled his attention away from studying the selection of food and considered the question. A part of him was — it had been a fun seven years, and he'd miss Hogwarts, but he was ready to start his adult life — although another, smaller part was worried. Hogwarts was known; he knew these walls like the back of his hand, knew the people in it like family — and many of them were family.
"I think so," he said, eventually.
Draco smiled, understanding in his eyes. "I know. I'm excited to begin my potions internship, but it'll be weird not having classes anymore."
Beside him, Neville snorted. "Even Hermione is taking a break before her internship. Why you chose to start in two weeks is beyond me."
"That's because our Draco is secretly a bigger nerd," Pansy said, reaching past Harry to grab a scoop of mashed potatoes.
"Secretly?" Harry repeated. "There's nothing secret about it." He yelped and ducked, narrowly avoiding a ball of crumbled napkin, then shot Draco a fake glare. "It's true!"
"I am not a bigger nerd than Hermione!" Draco glanced at her. "No offence."
She laughed. "We can share the title; I'm feeling generous."
Harry leaned back in his seat, listening to the banter and absentmindedly eating his lunch. It had been a long year; recovering from the trauma of having been kidnapped by Dumbledore had taken him longer than he expected, but then again, healing was never linear. There were still nights he awoke in terror, or jumped at certain noises that he never used to jump at. Still, he knew he was safe, and he'd settled into his seventh year with determination. Time slipped by the way it always did, and soon he found himself sitting in a hall full of his peers taking exam after exam. It felt like it would never end — the studying, the revision, the arguing over finer points of theory with his friends and family — but it did, eventually, as stressful things always do.
"One last tour of the castle?" Blaise asked, when they were all full. Harry raised his eyebrows, and Blaise hastened to add, "As students, I mean."
Draco huffed, shaking his head in amusement. None of them had seen it coming, although in hindsight they really should have; Blaise was a good teacher, even if he was often annoyed with them for goofing off. Daphne, of all people, was joining him — though she was taking younger-year charms rather than older-year potions. Neville was considering the Herbology position, though he wanted to spend a few years travelling and actually studying plants first. Hermione was joining Theo in politics, which made everyone shudder to think about. Not everyone had decided on something, though, and that was okay; they had the freedom to bum around for a few months or years while they decided.
And Harry, well. Nobody had been surprised except himself; it seemed his friends — his family — knew him better than he knew himself at times. Being a healer had never even crossed his mind until he reflected on his kidnapping. Saving Draco had been something he'd done on pure reflex, and it wasn't like he had a saviour complex, but he couldn't deny that helping people when they were afraid or scared or in pain was appealing. He had the ability, in any case, and a very overpowered wand that had been used to cause a lot of harm. Perhaps it was time to use it for the opposite. That, and there was a small part of him that felt smug knowing that as Master of Death he was cheating death of as many people as he could — or, at the very least, postponing their appointments.
Their tour of the castle took them hours; they walked slowly, reminiscing as they did. The halls were filled with memories — mostly good, although there were a few here and there that made them wince. They weren't perfect people, after all, and they'd all made mistakes. Still, Hogwarts had been a home away from home, and a refuge for many of them, particularly in the first few years of their lives.
Remus stumbled across them debating the merits of cushioning and featherlight charms and let out an exasperated groan. "You realise this is one of the boys dorm in the Gryffindor tower, right?"
Harry blinked innocently up at him. "We were just thinking about Sirius' broom trick, and any safety measures we'd need to take into consideration if we were to, ah, attempt it. And we realised, we really couldn't plan it properly without first seeing what the tower was like, let alone make an attempt. Hypothetically, of course. A purely theoretical exercise."
"Naturally," Remus said, dryly. "As head of Gryffindor, I must insist you le-"
"But you see," Draco said, interrupting him, eyes wide in mock eagerness, "This was our last chance to see what the common room is like, and therefore ascertain whether Sirius' trick was ever realistically possible. For all we know, it wasn't, and he was wasting his time trying to think of ways to achieve it."
Blaise nodded. "Exactly. Ron gave us the password."
The aforementioned boy let out an indignant squawk. "Excuse you, I did no such thing. It was-"
"What are they going to do?" Hermione cut in. "Give us detention? We graduate in-" She glanced at her watch. "-seventy-three minutes. It would be the world's shortest detention."
Remus' lips twitched, but he held back the laugh. He had years of practice, after all. "Leave, please. This is not your house."
Harry glanced at his friends. Theo gave an almost imperceptible nod; Hermione blinked but didn't say no; Draco sighed as if bracing for the inevitable; Blaise slipped his wand out and was already aiming it at Harry; and the rest of them were grinning
"Yes, sir," Harry said. Then, without hesitating, he took off running towards the window before anyone — namely Remus — could stop him. Three spells hit him in quick succession, and he could feel the tinge of Blaise and Pansy's magic in them.
"Harry James Potter!" Remus yelled, but it was far too late.
Harry leapt, the charms on him making him lighter than normal. He cleared the distance of the roof of the smaller towers below him and, arm outstretched, felt his fingers brush against the cool wood of a broom. He grasped at it, only just managing to wrap his fingers around it. His body swung below him, and for a moment he thought his grip was going to give way, but he angled himself and squeezed even tighter, and before he knew it he had pulled himself up onto the broom.
"So it is possible," Harry mused, raising his voice to be heard across the distance. "Sirius would be glad to know. See you on the ground!" He didn't turn to look at Remus — though he could imagine Moony's face, a mixture of disbelief and outrage and, yes, maybe even pride — as he directed the broom. He could hear his friend cheering in the background.
Of course, he got in trouble for it, though not nearly as much as Remus wanted; Hermione had been right. It wasn't as though any of them could be given detention, and what was the point of taking away house points if they were all graduating? Harry was an adult, and being grounded wasn't in the cards, so all Remus could really do was lecture them on being irresponsible. Harry just grinned; he couldn't wait to show Sirius the memories, and rub it in just a little that they'd managed it when he hadn't.
And then, before they knew it, they were being called on stage, one at a time, to receive their certificates. Harry stood to the side, watching his classmates turned friends turned family graduate. The memories of the other life were fading, slipping beyond his reach with each passing day. He didn't mind; he knew that future was gone, eradicated beyond any inkling of possibility, and he didn't need the memories anymore. Draco's memories were fading too. They had a feeling that soon they'd only know that had prevented tragedy, not what the tragedy was. Both of them were okay with this; it would allow them to live, truly live.
He felt the air shift, and was overcome with the undeniable feeling that Death was there, even if he couldn't see Him.
You did well, Master.
Thank you, Harry thought. Now leave me alone; I want to see my friends graduate.
Death chuckled. Yes, I think you deserve that. I'll be in touch.
Harry didn't have time to think about what that meant — nor did he particularly care — as his name was called, and he stepped up onto the stage to the applause and cheers from everyone. Life was still uncertain. There was always going to be turmoil in the world; he wasn't under the illusion that things would be perfect. Still, he had Draco, and his friends, and his family right there beside him. He knew he'd, they'd, make it through whatever the world threw at them.
It wouldn't be a perfect life, but that wasn't what he'd been after. Harry would live — and he would live well. And that was enough.