Her body curved in just the right fashion. She had the cinched waist that anyone would adore or envy and her skin was pure—no scars to be seen. In the dim light of the bedroom, her blue eyes were electrified and seemed to stand out against the red of the comforter. A few freckles dusted her face and he couldn't help but admire the small details. Her laying there naked with him on top of her was all he needed in this moment. By comparison, Harry almost felt dirty. He had the scar on his abdomen and forehead that stood out as a reddish area against he's slight tanned, but still pale, skin. She lifted a hand and ran her fingers delicately through his hair, the acrylic nails tickled his scalp. The gesture motioned for him to take action. He steadied his hands next to her shoulders and gave a small jab to test the waters. Once he saw that she was fine, he threw the concern out the window and began to go as rough and fast as he desired.

She took her time gathering her clothes, standing there naked as he packed his suitcase. She knew she was beautiful. Her breasts had the perkiness of a woman in her prime, and she happily puffed her chest to show it off. Whereas, Harry immediately rigged on his boxers and shorts once they were done. She took a seat on Draco's bed, crossing one leg over the other and he could feel her eyes on him. "You should be packing, too." He reminded, hoping it would notify her that he was now done with human contact for the night.

"Already done. Can you believe tomorrow is the last day of school?"

"Believe it?" Harry scoffed. "I've been waiting for it. It couldn't come fast enough and our freaking regents last week was enough to make me ready to go back home."

"Maybe I could visit over the summer." She had a way of luring him in, but he was firm on this subject.

"No. I'm keeping to myself this summer." He warned, throwing the last of his raggedy shirts into the old suitcase his dad used on family vacations.

"Fine, but at least visit Ron and Hermione." She argued, and he was certain he'd see them. "Where's the evil roommate?" She recognized that, even though it was nearing eleven o'clock, Draco remained out of his room.

"He left yesterday. I guess the rich kids get to leave early." He tried to stay in character. He hasn't spoken more than a word to Draco since the incident. That was a lie. A phrase: "Stop it". Other than telling him to quit playing atrocious music while studying, they'd stayed completely separate. The reason was unknown and the fact that they were no longer friends was an unspoken agreement between the two.

When he turned around, he saw that Ginny was finally sliding on her lace panties. Even hunched over, her figure was slim and tight. She'd eventually become full clothed and, with a swift hand ran through it, her hair was as pristine as before. "Call me if you're up for some fun over the summer." She have a flirtatious wink, but Harry kept his dazed expression. He wasn't sure what she saw in him, but if he questioned her he might ruin it.

After finishing packing, he slid the case under the cot and happily crawled into bed. The smell of sex still lingered, along with the scent of her floral perfume. The room was bare.

***

Lupin advocated that if Harry kept busy, then he'd have less time to wallow. So, he now had a part-time job at a nearby restaurant as a waiter. The forced kind attitude was frustrating, but the tips were nice. Lupin also invested in a bike for Harry, so he could take himself to work and back. He got hit on frequently, but never contacted the numbers that were written on the bills. For once, he enjoyed the solitude. He felt oddly productive, which he hadn't felt in a long time.

Currently, he was wiping down and worn wooden table with a wet rage. The front door opened, and he heard familiar voices, but continued to wash off the table without hesitation. But, as luck would have it, they sat in his area so he was forced to be their waiter. Once he could see his own reflection in the shiny surface, he walked over to the new customers with his notebook in hand. "Hey, my name is—"

"Harry?" The girl asked and her voice was filled with annoying incredulity.

"Yeah, can I take your order for drinks?" He asked politely, but he knew they weren't going to give this up.

"Mate, were so glad that you're back." Jack spoke sincerely, but it still stung because he wouldn't have been singing the same tune a couple of months back. "We've missed you."

"Yeah, we think about you all the time. We're sorry about...you know. It was hard with Ralph and then you."

"Yeah." Harry tried to keep his composure for the sake of a nice, juicy tip. "Imagine how it was for me."

"I can't even imagine!" The girl squeaked, but not in an annoying way, more in a tiny mouse way.

"You know...there's a party tonight at Rachel's house." Harry almost forgot that bitch existed. She never necessarily did anything to him; he just hated her. "You should come. I'd love to catch up, plus I'd like to get as drunk as possible." He joked, and gave a familiar smile.

"I'll consider it." Harry smirked, then continued. "On one condition. You have to go skinny dipping, in front of the whole party, in Rachel's pool."

"I'm well endowed." He leaned back in the booth, looking confident as he spoke. "So, I will happily make all the people jealous that I'm already taken." He then gave a sly wink at Emma, who sat across from him.

"Too much information." Harry gave an exaggerated grossed out expression, and Emma blushed a bit.

***

By the time his shift was over, he was biking swiftly to Rachel's. He was only a few blocks away, but by the time he got there he'd definitely be a bit late. The faster his feet pedaled, the more his hair got pushed in front of his eyes and made it difficult to see. He knew he was somewhere in the vicinity because the sound of drunken teenagers screaming shitty pop songs could be heard.

He pushed the brake, and left the bike on the sidewalk of the house. Rachel often has large parties because her house was quite extravagant. It was one of those houses that made the houses around it look small by comparison. On the lawn, there was some kid he'd never seen in his life dancing like a hippie in a movie. Harry laughed a little and walked passed. The moment he entered the house, Emma ounces and hung loosely on his arm. She was sweaty, weak, giggly, and appeared to have lost her shirt—she was drunk. Harry let her hang on him, planning to loan her off once they found Jack.

"There's a boy who looks like an old man." She slurred, and Harry ignored her. Harry gripped her shoulder and pushed passed the crowd. He knew that if she continued to wander by herself, completely drunk, some idiot would take advantage of her.

They found Jack sitting on the counter in the kitchen and conversing with some guy who he played baseball with. Once Emma spotted her beaux, Harry became obsolete and she found herself a comfortable spot in Jack's lap. Jack pulled the small girl close, and gave a smile of gratitude. Harry nodded in response, then grabbed a beer from the case on the kitchen table.

The taste was soothingly familiar, and the liquid seemed to fill an ache he didn't know he had. He wandered into the living room, the music almost deafening. It wasn't long before he spotted what Emma had attempted to convey through her slurred words. The flash of defining platinum blonde hair alarmed Harry.

He approached, just to make sure that he wasn't completely mistaken. The boy was the most free Harry had ever seen him—he laughed, sang, and raised his beer in the air. If he moved quickly, he could get out of this room before a tipsy Draco recognized him.

He pushed his way back towards the kitchen, but as he approached the doorway a loose pair of hands curled around his waist. Harry instinctually pushed him off, but Draco followed him back to the kitchen.

"Who's your friend?" Jack questioned, when they stumbled in together. Harry rolled his eyes and and pushed Draco away from him.

Draco giggled like a small school girl, grabbed onto the countertop to keep himself up, and said in an almost whisper, "You're loss." Then, he stumbled off, laughing.

"Some freak my new school. The whole place is filled with freaks." Harry spat, and Jack looked sympathetic.

"How so?"

"Never mind." Harry growled. "Why's he here anyways?"

Jack shrugged. "I saw him come in with Theodore, so maybe their friends."

"Anyone who's friends with him is a moron." Harry scoffed, then peered to Jack's lap. "Where's Emma?"

"She went off to dance with Grace." He smiles at the thought of his girlfriend, then took a swig of his red solo cup. He looked troubled, as if he had things he wanted to say but wasn't sure if he should.

"Spill it." Harry pushed.

"I saw a story in the news. You know, about a stabbing at the school you transferred to. I was afraid it was you, but I didn't want to tell anyone in case I was being paranoid." He bit anxiously at a hang nail, taking a deep breath.

"Oh, it was him." Draco slurred, apparently he had quietly wandered back into the kitchen and now interjected himself into a serious conversation.

Jack's head snapped to Draco, then to Harry. "Seriously, Malfoy?"

Draco approached and lifted his hand under Harry's shirt, presumably to show the jagged scar. Harry smacked his hand away and gave a menacing glare. "I want to see it." Jack whispered, almost drowned out by the blaring music. Harry begrudgingly lifted up his shirt to reveal the white line that decorated his abdomen. "Jesus Christ. What the fuck is wrong with me?" Jack put down his solo cup and buried his ashamed look in his hands. The despair seemed to sober Draco for a moment because he just stared at the boy.

"I'm fine, dude."

"My friend stabbed him." The sober moment didn't last long. Draco giggles, then read the room and attempted to suppress it.

Jack froze, seemingly scared, and Harry read this as the moment that he would distance himself once again from Harry. Instead, Jack grabbed Harry by the wrist and pulled him closer. The tipsy boy fell right into Jack's arms, who strongly held him close to himself. It seemed almost protective, like an older brother consoling his younger sibling after a rough day. Something about the familial feel and possibly the overwhelming wave of realization, cause him to bury himself in the hug and softly cry on Jack's shoulder. Without parental figures and his best friend, Harry hadn't felt a warm hug like this one in a matter of months—one where you finally feel protected and loved. Harry clumped a piece of Jack's baggy t-shirt in his shaky hand and continued to lose himself in awful, overbearing, painful memories.

***

"I feel like I'm doing the walk of shame." Draco whined, Harry rightfully ignored his complaint. Theodore, Draco's friend, had passed out on the couch which rendered him without a ride. They approached a small park that had a bench, which in the moonlight and due to his alcohol induced stumbling seemed like a call from heaven. "Can we sit?" Draco cried, and Harry changed direction toward the bench.

Draco collapsed onto the bench, feeling immediate relief. Harry had drank much more than Draco, but seemed more immune. Likely due to the fact that he used to frequent those situations. Harry hadn't talked much since they began their walk because he felt overwhelmingly numb after pouring his heart into Jack's supporting shoulder. "I regret it, you know. I'm not a monster."

"I know."

"It was mandatory, but painful."

"I know."

"There's so much death in my like that I guess it temporarily lost its impact."

"Well, the gang disbanded now so relax." Draco soothed, "You we're right, about the whole 'take down the leader to take down the organization' thing."

"I feel guilty for a lot of things." Harry glanced sadly at Draco, and it was one of the few times Draco had seen raw Harry—no tricks or cover ups involved. "I shouldn't like you. I tried not to. I feel guilty for letting Ralph kill himself and then moving on."

"You didn't let him kill himself!" Draco quickly snapped back with a newfound certainty. "You can't blame yourself for his suicide. He was sick. You might've not even been able to stop him, even if you knew."

"Well, I did know. At least, I should've. I saw the signs, but I didn't know what they meant. And, I feel bad for always thinking about Ralph after my parents died."

"It's a defense mechanism. You're focusing on only one thing so that you don't have to digest it all."

"Maybe. Either way, I'm not grieving properly."

Draco chuckled a bit, grabbing a weak hold of Harry's hand and resting it on Harry's thigh. "There's no right way to grieve." He consoled, giving Harry a soft squeeze—with all the strength he could muster from his wasted body—and gave a relaxed smile.

Harry gave Draco a look he couldn't quite read, but he was certain that Harry's green eyes had a mischievous sparkle it lacked only moments ago. Draco started for too long, then looked back down at the grass beneath them. Harry gave a dramatic yawn, then ran a hand on Draco's thin thigh, the touch seemed to make Draco shiver. He swatted the hand off. Harry stood up and stretched, then gave Draco another unreadable look. Draco's eyes seemed drawn to Harry's lips, which had a small cut that was likely from biting. Harry pushed back his messy hair, which had begun to cover his eyes and left him either constantly readjusting or suffering through the clouded vision. His actions had seemed slow, then sped up when he approached Draco on the bench and straddled the flustered boy. Harry pressed Draco against the bench and a hand slipped into an area of arousal. For a moment, the actions overwhelmed his system and his body didn't seem to register, then his body and mind synced. Draco pushed Harry, who seemed to hit the ground before he even realized the movement. Harry looked at Draco, who feared his anger, but only giggled lightly. "You're an odd drunk." Draco commented.