Harry Potter was lying on his bed ignoring the owl that had been tapping incessantly on his window for the better part of an hour. He'd been stuck to this spot for some time, a wave of apathy having consumed him. He just couldn't seem to make himself move.
"Fuck's sake, fine." he huffed getting to his feet and wrenching the window open.
A handsome tawny owl flew through the window, landing indignantly on the writing desk in the corner. He lit a cigarette and took a drag before untying the letter from the owls leg. His name was written on the front in neat, vaguely familiar, block letters. Intrigued despite himself he opened the envelope.
I just wanted to thank you for speaking at my mother's trial, and my own. You're testimony saved our lives and for that I will be eternally grateful. I also wanted to apologise for my actions not just in the war, but before. The things I said and did throughout school. I regret all of it. I am truly sorry for all of it. I was ignorant and misguided and I'm doing my best to be a better person. I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive me.
Hope you're well.
Harry certainly was not expecting this. He had been slightly hopeful it was Ron or Hermione writing. Recovering from the war was proving to be far more difficult than Harry anticipated. Ron and Hermione had each other. Hermione's parents were recuperating from a powerful memory charm and both still needed a lot of care. Ron and his family were fighting through the grief of losing Fred. Their letters had been few and far between. To be fair, Harry had been rather distant himself. He had rented a flat in Islington. He couldn't go back to Grimmauld place, it was too painful to be surrounded by so much that reminded him of Sirius and Remus and all the other Order members they had lost. He hoped a change of scenery and a fresh start would be enough to get him out of this rut. No matter what he did, though, more often than not he found himself consumed by the thoughts and feelings he tried desperately to escape. He lay in bed most days feeling hopelessly lost and irreparably broken. He isolated himself, not wishing to inflict his own turmoil onto his friends who were already shouldering so much.
He crushed the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray and took a swig from the too-warm beer bottle on his bedside table before crossing the room his desk. He fished a pen and notebook from the cluttered drawer and sat down to draft a response to Malfoy.
Thanks for reaching out. There's no need to apologize. I forgave you a long time ago. You were just a kid trying to survive. We all were. I owe my life to your mother, so I guess that means were even? I'm doing okay, I suppose. Coping. How have you been? I don't get the Prophet anymore, it's usually a load of rubbish so I've been a bit out of the loop. I hope your mother is well.
He tore the page from the notebook folded it neatly and slid it into an envelope he addressed to Malfoy. He tied the letter to the owl's leg.
"I'm afraid I don't have a treat for you," he apologized quietly, stroking the owls feathers.
The bird gave a doleful hoot before spreading its wings and soaring out the window. He stiffly ventured to the loo and out into the kitchen. He opened his refrigerator and got himself a fresh beer. He popped the top open and gulped half of it down by the time he reached his bedroom. He swung the door shut behind him and climbed back into his bed. He finished his beer and rolled a joint. As he lay back against his pillow he let he thoughts wander to Malfoy. It wouldn't be the first time this summer. Between his bouts of paralyzing hopelessness his thoughts would often shift to Malfoy. Wondering how he was handling everything. Hoping the public in general weren't being too hard on him. He'd thought about writing, but thought better of it. He and Malfoy weren't friends, he wouldn't want to hear from Harry. Maybe it was just because he was lonely. Or maybe he thought Malfoy might somehow understand him, the dark parts of him, in a way his friends never could. Whatever it was Harry was glad he had written. It made the voices in his head telling him he didn't deserve to be here just a little quieter. He lay there, his limbs loose, feeling as though he were floating his mind finally beginning to clear. He knew it wouldn't last. An hour from now the doubt and anguish would return. And then would come the guilt. That was the worst of them all. The guilt that he was alive when so many had died for him. His parents, Sirius, Remus all of them dead and Harry was here, alive, but unable to live. And when these thoughts came and the pain got to be too much Harry would reach into his bedside table and swallow down a couple of the pretty red pills that make it all disappear. And for awhile he could cease to exist.
Draco rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, listening to his mother rant at him.
"–the purple hair is one thing darling, but why did you have to go and get a piercing? In your nose, no less?" she finished, rather dramatically.
"I saw a bloke at a record shop with it, it thought it looked rather dashing on him, decided I wanted one," he said shrugging, "I've told you mother I'm tired of living my life based on someone else's rules. I'm doing what makes me happy!"
"Purple hair, nose rings, and those ridiculous muggle clothes make you happy?" she arched an eyebrow and gestured to his outfit, a soft black snug fitting v-neck t shirt, ripped tapered denims, and his favorite Dr. Marten boots. He had a flannel shirt tied around his waist.
"You've forgotten the black nail polish, but yes, as a matter of fact they do." Draco sniffed
"You look like a degenerate!" She exclaimed exasperatedly.
"So? Who cares what I look like? Father ruined any chance at all of us upholding any sort of prim and proper reputation, you know that. So, fuck it, I'm gonna dress how and I want and be who I am."
"Draco Lucius Malfoy, watch your mouth!" she gasped reproachfully.
'Sorry, mum," he muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Maybe one day you'll come to your senses," she said hopefully.
"Don't hold your breath," he retorted with laugh.
He patted her on the shoulder as he strode out of the room and up the stairs to his bedroom. He quite liked their new home. Neither of them had a desire to return to the manor, so once their funds were released from the ministry they bought a cozy cottage in the hills of Wiltshire. Draco had wanted to move to London, but his mother preferred the country. His owl, Persephone, was waiting for him in his bedroom. She had perched herself on top of her cage, a note tied to her leg. His stomach did a backflip. He didn't think Harry would respond to his letter. There were butterflies fluttering nervously in his stomach. He decided he was tired of pretending and hiding his sexuality. He had no qualms admitting he was gay. And after a lot of soul searching he eventually came to terms with the complex feelings he had for Harry. His decision to write to him had been just one of the many impulses Draco had given into. The first of which being cutting his hair and coloring it purple. He untied the letter from Persephone's leg and nervously opened the envelope and read Potter's reply. He considered waiting a day or so to respond, but was too excited he couldn't help himself.
I'm honestly surprised you even wrote back. Pleased, but surprised. Mother is well. She's been spending a lot of time with Andromeda and Teddy. I've been doing pretty well I suppose. I volunteer at some muggle charities and things and spend most of my time in the muggle world these days. I've made a few friends and found this amazing music shop. I still get a bit on edge in the Wizarding world. Too many people judging me. But I try not to dwell on that and just focus on being better, you know? Are you coming back to Hogwarts? I was a bit on the fence. I really want to go to Uni but I don't want to hide from the magical world either. So I decided to at least get my N.E.W.T.S then maybe I'll try Uni. I hope you're holding up, I know it can't be easy. It was good to hear from you x
"You can rest up a bit before you take this," he told the owl cheerfully, giving her a few treats.
He turned on his stereo and lay back on his bed listening to the latest album from the Smashing Pumpkins day dreaming about Harry Potter. Even if Draco's feelings aren't reciprocated he thinks he could be okay as long as they could be friends.
Much to his surprise Draco Malfoy had quickly become a beacon of light in Harry's life. They wrote each other nearly every day. Harry was beginning to feel almost normal. He still had days where he didn't want to get out of bed, but they were far outnumbered by the good days. Days where Harry actually got out of bed and showered. He would cook himself breakfast and watch the telly or read. On really good days he'd go for a walk in the nearby park and enjoy the hot August sunshine on his face. He bought a new owl, he had felt bad Persephone was making so many trips to Wiltshire and back. Draco insisted he name him Adonis, so he had. He'd even ventured to Diagon Alley and met Hermione and Ron to do their Hogwarts shopping. Though he was happy to have some time with his best friends he found himself wishing Draco could be there too. While Ron was funny in his own way he found he quite missed Draco's quick wit and sarcasm. As it turns out Draco had also written letters to Ron and Hermione apologising. He told them they had talked quite a bit over the summer and that he seemed different. He left out the part about his letters being one of the only things keeping Harry going. That he saved every single letter he'd ever received and re-read them late at night when the thoughts in his head were too loud and his heart ached so much he couldn't breathe.
Late the night before he was due to depart for Hogwarts he received a short note from Draco.
Look for me on the train. We can sit together.
He hastily jotted down one word and attached it to the leg of his own owl.
He went to bed with a smile on his face. Images of glittering grey eyes and blonde hair danced through his head.
The next morning he was standing on the platform scanning the crowd for Draco. He waved distractedly as Neville called hello at him.
"Harry!" he heard from somewhere behind him.
He turned around and in the distance he saw Draco Malfoy waving at him, smiling widely. Only this Draco Malfoy certainly looked different than the one who sat stony faced in a courtroom at the Ministry two months ago. His hair had been cut, shaved close on the sides but the top was long and tousled and purple. He was wearing a tight white v neck t shirt under an unbuttoned purple and black flannel shirt. His tapered jeans were faded and torn and on his feet were purple Doc Marten boots that matched his shirt and hair spectacularly. Harry felt himself beaming at Draco as he approached.
"You look fantastic!" He exclaimed giving Draco a one armed hug.
"Thank you." Draco said shyly, his pale cheeks tinged with pink. "You wouldn't believe the looks I've gotten."
The whistle blew on the train signaling its imminent departure.
"We'd better find seats," he said as he struggled to heft his trunk onto the train.
Harry couldn't help but think he looked absolutely adorable.
"Why don't you just use a lightening charm, silly?" He asked amusedly.
"I'm so used to being around Muggles I forgot I could use my wand," he laughed.
That sound, Harry thought, was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. It was warm and honest and absolutely contagious. It was better than any high he could chase.
Draco was scanning the crowded platform frantically. The throng began to thin a bit as he made his way towards the train and he caught sight of unruly black hair, just ahead to his right. He called out Harry's name and he turned to face Draco. He felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of Harry smiling brightly at him. He was taller than Draco remembered,he was at least a head taller than him now. He was wearing a faded Offspring t-shirt, worn jeans and scuffed red Chuck Taylor's. He looked like a bloody wet dream. His stomach fluttered excitedly as he and Harry found a compartment.
"I'll bet you were proper chuffed when Mcgonagall sent the eight years purple ties," Harry said amused.
"Yes! I was thrilled, actually. I got it the day after I did this, so it was perfect." He replied pointing to his hair.
"And your nose ring, when did you get that?"
"In July, my mum went bonkers, told me I looked like a degenerate." Draco answered with a snicker.
Harry's laugh was bright and unbridled, his head was thrown back his green eyes sparkling.
"She's not wrong, but I think you look fucking adorable."
Draco preened, barely managing to hold back a squeal. The train ride was really quite pleasant. Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley barged in at one point, having been looking for Harry since the train's departure, but they did not stay. Draco studied Harry in the moments of comfortable silence. His face was rather thin and there was something broody about his expression. But when he looked at Draco his eyes were warm and his smile genuine.
They took a carriage with Pansy and Blaise to the castle. He was glad to see Harry got on with them pretty well with minimal awkwardness. Once they were inside the eighth years were called to a chamber just off the hall and were informed that they would not be returning to their previously sorted houses but would instead have their own suits in a previously unused area of the castle. They had been assigned roommates and were shown the bulletin board where the list was hung. To his immense pleasure Harry had been assigned as his roommate. The feeling seemed rather reciprocal. He stood up for Draco when some of his former housemates offered him condolences for being forced to room with him and Draco's heart swelled.
The suite, as it turned out, consisted of a small sitting area with a fireplace, a small sofa and two armchairs, a single sleeping space with a four poster bed on each wall and two writing desks, one on each side of a large window and an attached bathroom. Outside the door there was a larger common area for them all to mingle in if they so choose. He and Harry spent the first night lounging in their sleeping quarters chatting until Harry had fallen asleep mid conversation. Draco extinguished the lamps in the room and pulled a quilt over him. He lay in his own bed and gazed at him. He looked so peaceful sleeping whilst bathed in the moonlight.
The start of eighth year wasn't as bad as Harry had been anticipating. Having Draco as his roommate was proving tremendously helpful. His animated personality was infectious. Like a Patronus he kept Harry's demons at bay. Some days were harder than others. They would lay at opposite ends of Draco's bed, their heads next to each other, silent but present nonetheless. His favorite nights were those when he and Draco would sneak to the top of the Astronomy tower under the invisibility cloak. They would spread out a blanket and look at the stars while they smoked a joint. They would lay there after, a little too close for just best friends, and talk about life and the future. Draco gave him hope.
He could be real around Draco. He never made Harry feel like he needed to put on a mask. He accepted Harry for the mess he was. Understood him in a way friends weren't able to.
"I wish they'd find something better to do than sit in a corner gawking at us all evening." Harry grumbled.
They were sitting on a sofa in the eighth year common area, Draco's head was in his lap, a book held up above his face as he read. Parvati Patil and Marrietta Edgecomb were sat in arm chairs across the room.
They kept staring over at them and bending their heads together, whispering.
"Fuck them, who cares what they think." Draco said defiantly his eyes glittering.
"Let's give them something to really talk about shall we." He replied, smirking before finally giving into his impulses. He leaned in and kissed him.
Draco made him brave.
A part of Harry knew he had no business entering into a relationship. And he loathed himself for not being a good enough person to walk away. But Draco meant more to Harry than anyone ever had. At times it was paralyzing. Harry had lost everyone he had ever loved, how long would it be until he lost Draco? What happens when the baggage and the damage that he carries becomes too much for Draco? When Draco told Harry he loved him on Christmas Harry said it back. Because he meant it. He loved Draco Malfoy as much as he was capable of. He laid awake that night, next to Draco and watched him sleep, knowing he should feel happy. Draco loved him. But he couldn't feel happy. He had been struggling to keep his head above water lately. Draco knew what he wanted. He had a purpose, something to work for. He intended on completing his NEWTS and then going to a muggle university to pursue becoming a trauma counselor.
And while he was so immensely proud of Draco, he felt lost himself. He didn't know why he had even bothered to come back to school. He didn't want to be an Auror anymore. His life had no meaning. There was no reason for existing. Draco deserved better than him. There were so many broken parts to Harry, he couldn't be fixed. That night he crept out of bed and went to his trunk. He pulled out the tiny box in the bottom that housed the only thing that could help him. He held the pills in his hand and stared at them before putting them in his mouth and swallowing them down. He wished he could say it would be the only time. But it was merely the first step down a slippery slope.
"Harry are you even listening to me?" Draco huffed in annoyance.
Lately, Harry had been distant and it was weighing on his heart. After Draco told him he loved him on Christmas things had been great. They seemed to be growing closer, and Harry was letting him in more and more. But recently Harry had been withdrawn, absent. When Draco spoke to him it was like his body was physically present, but his mind wasn't there. It was off in some far away place Draco couldn't reach. He was cold and indifferent, and it hurt.
"Hm?" he asked absentmindedly, finally looking over at him from his armchair in front of the fire.
"I asked you if you wanted to get tea with Mother in Hogsmeade this weekend?" He repeated impatiently, for the third time.
"Oh, yeah of course. That'd be great." Harry replied quietly reaching over to touch his hand. "Sorry, love, I'm just a bit–"
"Tired? Yeah, I know." Draco interrupted, unable to keep the venom out of his voice. "You're always just tired. Or just got a lot on your mind. I'm not fucking stupid, Harry. I know when someone's lying to me."
Harry only stared at him mouth open, with no response.
"Not even gonna bother to deny it, are you?" He snapped, slamming his Ancient Runes textbook shut. "I'm going to bed."
He stomped through the open door to their sleeping quarters. He flung himself onto the bed, biting his lip hard, trying to prevent a sob from escaping. He had been patient with Harry but the hot and cold act was wearing on Draco's heart.
"I love you, Draco." Harry's quiet, broken voice came from the doorway moments later. "I'm sorry."
But by the time Draco looked up he was gone. He buried his face in his pillow and screamed and cried until his voice was hoarse and no more tears would come. This was only the first of many nights Draco would lie alone, crying into his pillow until he succumbed to sleep.
It's funny, Draco thought, when you love someone the lengths you'll go to protect them. The things you forgive when a person means the world to you. Because things aren't always bad, and most of the time the good outweighed the not so good. At least at first. There were days when Harry looked at him as though he were the most beautiful person in the world and held him as if he were something precious he didn't want to break. Nights where he would make love to Draco until they were both breathless and dizzy and the sky outside was tinged with pink from the rising sun. Days like those surely cancelled out the days when Harry was withdrawn and couldn't meet Draco's eye. Days like those made the erratic mood swings and fits of temper bearable. But you can only make excuses for so long. At some point you have to face the truth, no matter how awful. No matter how much it hurts.
When April arrived Draco finally got the news he'd been waiting for. He'd been working exceptionally hard all term not only on his NEWTS classes but taking exams and writing admissions essays for University as well. He and Harry were sitting at breakfast with Blaise and Pansy. Harry seemed mostly present that particular morning. He squeezed Draco's thigh under the table as he laughed at one of Blaise's terrible puns. There was a rustling overhead as owls swooped down upon them delivering various packages and papers to their owners. A rather official looking envelope landed in front of his plate of bacon and eggs. His stomach immediately began squirming wildly and he tore the envelope open. He pored over the page in his hands. His heart soared triumphantly.
"Oh my God, I got in," he murmured quietly, and then he repeated louder, "Harry, I got in! UCL accepted me!"
"That's brilliant!" His voice was exuberant and his smile wide but his eyes were shuttered, unfeeling. Void of any emotional sincerity. Draco felt gutted.
"Yeah, brilliant," he parroted, failing at hiding the way his voice cracked, "I have to go, I need to write my mum before class."
He got to his feet and left the Hall as quickly as he could, ignoring Harry calling his name behind him. He didn't bother hiding the tears that were flowing freely down his cheeks. Something was wrong. That wasn't Harry. Not his Harry. The Harry who looked at him with such unabashed joy and admiration Draco thought he would melt from it. The one who made Draco laugh until his sides ached. The one who spent hours with him helping him with his Muggle studies. Patiently explaining things to him when he was confused and irritated that it had taken him eighteen years to bother learning any of it. The one that held him close at night as though he was the only thing in the world that mattered. No, that Harry was gone. All that was left was this shell of a man. As though everything that made him who he was had been scooped out. His mind, captured by some unseen force hidden behind glassy, bloodshot eyes with pupils so constricted they were nearly nonexistent.
"Harry, what are you doing?"
He jumped at the sound of Draco's distraught voice behind him. The orange bottle in his hand crashed to the floor, pills scattering in all directions. He froze, gripping the edge of the sink terrified to turn and look Draco in the face.
"I'm sorry," he whispered his voice quivering. "Draco, I'm so sorry I‐" he broke off as a sob wracked his body.
He had thought Draco was sleeping. He had avoided Harry the best he could all day. Even in class he had sat silently next to him, refusing to look in his direction and Harry couldn't take it. He would rather Draco had screamed every obscenity he knew at him than face that cold indifference.
"Harry," Draco said softly, "Harry, come here. It's okay. All right? It's okay. We're gonna get you some help."
He pulled him into a tight hug and rubbed slow circles on his back.
It's okay it's okay it's okay he chanted at a whisper.
He took Harry by the arm and led him into their sitting room. His silver eyes shone with tears as he sat across from him waiting for Harry's sobs to subside.
"Harry, please talk to me, please just let me in, let me help you." Draco prodded gently.
"What if th-there is no help for m-me? What if I'm just too b-broken? Everyone wants me to just be who I b-before. And I can't. I d-don't how to be that p-person anymore," he stammered, furiously wiping his eyes on the back of his hand, "I look around a-and everyone is moving on. They've figured it out, they have a purpose. And I'm just so lost. I don't know why I'm here, why I bothered coming back in the f-forest. I-I've lost everything. You're all I h-have. And I look at you and I f-feel so free. But I-I can't g-get rid of the voices in my head telling me that eventually I will lose you too. That you're gonna wake up a r-realize that I'm too broken, that I'm worthless and you deserve m-more. Th-that you should have just let me go."
His breaths were coming in deep aching gulps. His chest hurt so badly he wanted to rip his heart out with his own hands. Draco was sitting across from him still, silent tears falling into his lap. And he hated himself for being the one who caused them. For dragging Draco into this. Draco whose smile could light up an entire room who was so full of life and love. Draco, who deserved more than Harry could ever hope to be.
"Listen to me, Harry. I love you. I love you for who you are now, for every bit of you. Even the broken parts that you try to hide. You can try and push me away and tell me that I deserve better. But there's no one better than you, for me. You were made for me. I'm in this, can't you see that? I am in this for the long haul. We will get you through this." Draco promised him, gripping his hand with surprising strength.
End the end Harry agreed to flush the pills that were littered across the bathroom floor with a promise to Draco that he was done with them for good. And he meant it. He wanted to to better, to be better. But no matter what he did the voices in his head drowned out all good sense and Harry could feel his body ache for the drugs that made them go away.
Draco ran his fingers through Harry's wild curls. It was the eve of Harry's 30th day sober. They had been in bed intertwined with each other for the better part of the evening.
"I am so proud of you, Harry." He whispered, pressing a kiss to Harry's soft lips.
"I couldn't have done it without you." Harry murmured back.
The past month had been far from easy. Harry had fallen quite ill within the first week, his body violently re-adjusting to functioning without the high levels of Narcotics it had become accustomed to. His moods seemed worse then, than they ever were when he was using. More than once Draco had gone to bed in tears only to be woken hours later by an apologetic Harry climbing into bed with him. But, by the end of the second week it was like he was watching Harry come back to life before his eyes. He smiled more his eyes were brighter than Draco had seen them in months. They went for walks by the lake and laughed together like they did before the drugs had taken hold of his soul.
I'm so proud of you Draco's voice echoed inside his head as he looked down at the pills in his hand. There was nothing in the world that he wanted more than to be the person Draco thought he was. But he couldn't do that. Being that person was too hard. Waking up and putting a big fake smile on his face was too hard. Pretending he didn't hate himself was too hard.Letting Draco love him was even harder. And the pills. They were easy.
Draco woke early the next morning, surprised to find himself alone in bed, with an awful ache in the pit of his stomach.
"Harry?" He whispered, sitting up to look over into
Harry's bed. The curtains were drawn.
"Harry?" He repeated louder.
The curtains remained still.
"No." He said weakly scrambling to his feet and wrenching Harry's curtains open.
Harry was lying on his side unmoving. Beside his hand was a folded piece of paper and an empty orange bottle. He felt his knees fold under him as he fell onto the hard stone floor.
"No! Harry no, please wake up," he called frantically.
He reached out to touch his arm, it was cold as ice.
"NO Harry please no," he sobbed
"HELP! SOMEONE HELP!" he screamed through his tears. "Harry please wake up."
He felt as though someone had taken a knife and dug it straight into his chest. He heard several pairs of feet running into the room but the tears were pouring so fast everything was blurry.
"Blaise get Pomfrey. Longbottom find McGonagall tell what's happened and to Floo Narcissa Malfoy."
He could barely hear Pansy's shaking voice over his own wails of Harry's name. He laid his head on the mattress next to Harry's as he stroked his hair.
"Please no" he whimpered.
"Draco, Draco you have to move. Madame Pomfrey's here. There's things she she-she has to move him." Pansy said gently trying to pull him back away from the bed.
"NO!" he screamed, "Don't touch me!"
He buried his face in the mattress sobbing.
"Draco darling, you have to move now. Harry, he wouldn't want this. You have to let him go." His mother's voice was soft in his ear.
She slowly pulled him back away from the bed and he collapsed in her arms crying so hard his whole body shook with each wretched sob.
"Oh darling, I'm so sorry," she soothed her voice breaking.
When the room had cleared and Draco had found the strength to stand, he walked over to Harry's bed to retrieve the he note that was still folded beside his pillow. Draco's name was scrawled across the front in Harry's messy handwriting. With shaking hands he unfolded it.
I'm sorry for everything that I have put you through. You tried so hard to help me fix myself but I am just too broken. It hurts too much to be here and this is just easier. I never wanted this for us. For you. I love you so much, but I hate me. I never want you to think you didn't do enough because you did. You were always more than enough. And if love were enough to fix me, I would still be here. I don't know how it got to this point. I'm sorry for all the times I hurt you when I was too busy fighting my own demons to notice. I guess that's the thing about addiction. When you're in it, you can't see it. You can't see how it's affecting you. How it's affecting the person you love. There's only the pain and the numbness. You're so desperate to not feel the low you do whatever it takes to get the high. Maybe that makes me selfish or weak. But mostly I think it just proves that I was right all along. You're too good for me and I never deserved you.
Losing Harry had been almost impossibly difficult for Draco get through. He left Hogwarts the day after Harry's funeral unable to walk through the halls without being haunted by Harry's face. He didn't complete his N.E.W.T.S and that was fine with him. His future lay outside of the Magical world. His mother had tried to talk him out of leaving for University in September but Draco insisted that he needed to go through with it. He owed it to himself and to Harry to see it out.
He found himself now, six years and a Masters degree later, unlocking the doors to his very own business, Harry's Hope. It was a drug and alcohol rehabilitation center that specializes in addiction born from trauma. He was one of the many addiction counselors on staff. He planned on working towards his Doctorate degree once Harry's Hope was up and running strong. After Harry's death, he made a promise to him that he would help as many people as he could in his honor. He only hoped that Harry was watching over him proudly and that he was finally at peace.