Harry Potter watched as his two oldest children boarded the Hogwart's Express, doing his best to ignore the blond man standing down the platform sending away his own son. He took Ginny's hand and stepped away purposefully, refusing to look back at Draco Malfoy. The man who had never been friend, who had almost always been an enemy. When they arrived at the mad assortment of junk seemingly scattered near the exit of Platforn 9 ¾, Harry checked his timepiece and gestured to Ginny, saying:
“You first, Gin, Lily.” His wife and daughter smiled at him, both with love and trust in their eyes. Taking the Portkey, Ginny vanished, still holding Lily's hand, leaving Harry to wait six minutes for his own to enable.
“Potter,” Harry heard from behind him.
Harry turned, looking into the former Slytherin's eyes. “Taking a Portkey, Malfoy?”
“No, I'll be Apparating shortly. I just wanted to give you this.”
Harry swallowed and took the book Draco offered, saying quietly, “Thank you. And it is?”
“It's one of two. If you write in it, the words show up in its twin. They're enchanted, and can only be opened by their owners. As you can see, your name is written on the spine. Thus, only you can open it and see the words. Should it be anyone else, they'll see only blank pages.”
“Clever,” replied Harry. “And who owns the second?”
“I do, Harry,” Draco said softly.
Harry broke eye contact, shuffling his feet and checking the time. His Portkey was due in one minute, forty-five seconds. He tucked the book into his cloak and reached town for the broken handle of a blue teapot.
“I may not write anything,” Harry said, noticing that no one was looking at them. As though they and the many scattered Portkeys were not there. His brow furrowed as he returned his gaze to Draco's.
“A simple spell,” said Draco. “Until I walk three feet that way, they won't see me. Or you. We may as well not be standing here.”
“You trigger the spell's end then?”
“I do. I'll write to you.”
“Draco, we the war took us apart, and I'm married now.”
“I don't care.”
They were silent, as Harry thought hard. Could he betray Ginny? Had he betrayed Draco by turning to Ginny so shortly after he and Draco had called it quits? He loved them both. His breath halted at that thought. He loved them both.
“I'll write you.”
“I missed you.”
Harry's lips were still warm from having barely left Draco's when he felt the Portkey pull him away and found himself looking into Ginny's eyes.
“Ready to go home, Harry?”
The book seemed heavier in his cloak now, but he didn't intend to lose it, or leave it blank. He realized that he'd rather have these stolen moments with Draco, be they full of love or pain, than nothing at all.