The Butterfly Effect

“For the love of God, would you stop looking for an escape?” Hermione snapped irritably as Harry straightened the collar of his shirt for what felt like the hundredth time in the span of twenty minutes.

Cheeks flushing, he dropped his hand with a mumbled, “Sorry.” His gaze instantly drew away from the back door of the Burrow, which he’d coincidentally also being watching for the past twenty minutes.

Merlin save them all, but when he’d accepted the Weasley’s invitation to a supposedly impromptu barbeque, he’d expected the usual clan plus a few add ons in the form of respective partners. Here was McGonagall swanning past licking a lemon sherbet lolly arm in arm with a laughing Sirius Black on one side and a flushed Remus Lupin on the other. To the left there was half the Ministry playing a game of darts. To the right was a gaggle of Teddy’s class racing around yelling at each other, there was Ginny’s teammates haggling her and her newly introduced girlfriend. Too many people. More people than Harry was accustomed to. It had his head spinning and had him practically on bouncing on the balls of his feet to rid himself of the nervous energy.

This was why he managed his friends in little drips and drabs. Mondays and Fridays were his own save for the occasional Friday at the pub where everyone would meet up and have a jolly good time ragging each other and drinking themselves into oblivion, Tuesdays and Thursdays belonged to Hermione and Ron, Wednesdays called for a late lunch with Luna while Pansy tagged along occasionally. Every second or third week or so, he managed to meet with Neville in Hogsmeade where often then not, Zabini would be there too. Saturdays were always spent at Sirius and company and Sundays were with the Weasley bunch.

His days were hardly short of people, even at the charity he’d established for orphaned wizards and witches, there was a revolving door of people to meet and entertain. Still, Harry had a hard time with the crowds, something he’d never grown out of. Something he still hadn’t told any of his friends about.

“Worrywart,” Hermione grinned affectionately as she straightened his collar and pecked him on the cheek. “Cut back a little, have a drink.”

“Oi, planning on stealing my future wife are you, Harry ?” beaming, Ron ambled up to them and caught Hermione up in a lavish kiss. Harry glanced away, smiling.

He'd been done and out when they’d first moved in together but time and perspective had made him realise that he still had them, even as a couple. The three of them still belonged to each other in ways that other people would never understand.

Breaking away from Hermione, Ron threw an arm around Harry and drew all three of them into a fiercely tight embrace, “I’m getting married tomorrow!! Years and years of being callously rejected and she’s finally agreed.”

Hermione scowled at that, but her heart eyes belied her true sentiment, “Oh, how long are you still going to go on about that ? I said, to wait until I finished my N.E.W.T.S!”

The two of them broke off into a harried arguments and Harry still smiling let his gaze roam the party goers. Molly and Arthur playing with their grandchildren, Dean and Seamus flirting away shamelessly in the corner, Luna folding ballons into nargyles while Pansy looked on absolutely gobsmacked. He caught sight of a flash of white-blonde hair and his heart stopped as it always did but it was only Narcissa Malfoy, ambling her way over to them with a wan smile.

She kissed all of them on both cheeks as she always did and handed off a huge, wrapped present off to Hermione who took it with a gleeful grin. She’d grown quite well into her femininity since school and Harry was glad for her.

“Oh!” came her little gasp as she glanced down at the tag, “It’s from Draco as well ?”

Harry’s gaze immediately zeroed in on the package. It was wrapped in a dazzling gold paper, topped off with a silver bow. Undoubtedly, so Draco. His heart played a funny little jig in his chest.

“Some French thing he insisted you must have,” Narcissa said with a grinning roll of the eyes. “That boy gets posher by the second.”

“He’s not coming then ? ” this was from a frowning Ron.

“Oh no, he got in this morning,” and then like the rattle of death, Narcissa’s hand swung out, bangles jiggling on her wrist and pointed in the crowd.

There he was. Draco. Draco. Draco.

Teddy was laughing in his arms, hair fading from jet black to a pale blonde. Draco was laughing as well, face open and beautiful. Harry had the urge to tuck tail and run but Hermione’s hand clamped down on him at that exact moment almost as if she knew. Of course, she knew.

Harry always wore everything on his face when it came to Draco. He’d tried. For all the years the blonde had been gone, Harry had tried falling into the arms and beds of nameless Muggles and while it’d worked for a brief night, it never went beyond that.

His foolishly stupid heart was set on Draco Malfoy despite sensibilities telling him otherwise.

Narcissa still smiling, caught her son’s eyes and waved him over. Harry watched as Draco clocked him, watched as his face closed off and he carefully set Teddy down again. For a second, he was sure that he was going to leave, but Draco steeled his shoulders and ambled over to them.

He hugged Hermione and shook Ron’s hand and as his gaze passed over Harry, he froze sure that the blonde would ignore him but he got a bland smile and a muttered, “Potter. How nice to see you.”

That hurt more than Harry could have explained and he took a step away, Hermione’s vice grip still on him.

“Hello, Draco. France looks good on you.”

“Only because London has so mercilessly washed it’s hands off of me, I reckon. But thank you nonetheless.”

They were blessedly saved a minute later as Theodore Nott came bounding up, to congratulate Hermione and Ron with loud air kisses and fussy hugs. He knew that his friends had met with him before many times in Paris, that the war had been long since laid to rest between them all, but it was still jarring. Again, Harry was sure that he’d be ignored but Nott fixed him with a genuine smile as he held out his hand.

“Potter, I owe you an apology for the bathroom and everything after. No hard feelings?”

Harry still feeling as if his world had been knocked off its axis, hurriedly shook Theo’s hand.

“Of course not. I’m sorry as well, for well, all of it.”

Draco watched his boyfriend and Harry with his lips pulled into a thin line, “Surely, I get an apology too then, Potter? I am after all, marred with your marks forever, aren’t I?”

“Draco-“ Narcissa was quick to admonish but he waved his mother off with a blasé hand.

“I should like to hear it, Mother. Go on, Potter.”

Gulping, Harry tried to meet the gaze of the man that he'd loved, still did, and could not. His guilt was a physical thing, he carried with him day after day. It had been the catalyst for why he’d left in the first place. To hurt the person he loved more than anything in the world like that was unthinkable.

“Malfoy- Draco, you can’t imagine how- how sorry- “

It was at that moment Charlie Weasley chose to come sauntering over to them, arm draped over his boyfriend’s shoulders.

“What’s with all the long faces ?” he asked cheerily as he slapped Ron on the back.

Merlin save him from these big bashes. All he wanted was to grovel at Draco’s feet until he knew exactly how sorry he was. Then perhaps, the love that lingered in his heart could finally find its resting place. Perhaps Harry would be able to move on as Draco had.

They all stared at one another owl eyed until Charlie’s boyfriend, Geoffrey fixed Harry with a little smile.

“When are you back in Romania, Harry? We so enjoyed your visit last time.”

Harry thought wryly of his last visit, sick with grief and sick with longing. Romania had healed the little fractures in his soul in a way London hadn’t been able to. He’d roomed in Charlie Weasley’s spare room, and he’d worked with the dragons from morning to night until the nightmares had ebbed into a peaceful oblivion.

“Visit ?” Malfoy snapped now, eyes jumping from Harry to Charlie to  Geoffrey. “When was this?”

“Just after the war,” Hermione jumped in now, her grip had slackened on Harry just the slightest. He would’ve run off then but explaining why to several different people would be far more embarrassing than staying. “Remember, Draco? At the bar, Ginny told you.”

“But-but,” jaw half open, he fixed Geoffrey with an intensely bright stare. “And you? Where were you ?”

Geoffrey smiled benevolently as if he always had angry, confused blondes snapping questions at him, “With Charlie.”

“You and Charlie were together then?” again that plaintive, confused face.

“Seven years running,” Charlie beamed with a proud puff of the chest.

Harry watched as Draco blanched and then he was rushing away from all of them with barely a word. He moved almost as if to go after him, but of course Theo was already beating him to it. Harry stopped, because it wasn’t his place, hadn’t ever been, really. He was cursed to watch from afar and he supposed if Draco was happy and safe, he'd be satisfied with that. He had to be for all he'd ever brought into the blonde's life was sadness and danger. 

With an apologetic smile at all of them and a final congratulations at Hermione and Ron, Nott was dashing off after his boyfriend.

“Was it something I said?” Geoffrey asked now, frown tugging on his lips. "Does he not like Romania?"

“He’s just overwhelmed being back,” Hermione said and there was a decisiveness in her voice that nobody dared to argue with. "Come on then you lot, let's see if George and Bill haven't blackened our meat."

With a final look to where Draco had disappeared, Harry allowed Narcissa to steer him in the direction of the barbeque, all the while wondering what exactly about Romania and Charlie Weasley had set Draco off.