but Hermione had showed up when she saw the distress call and told the all that it was ministry protocol, and anyone who did not show up would be held in contempt of court, which Harry thought was a lie, but he can’t ever tell anymore.

(Whenever he thinks that she’s only bluffing, some small part of him that still remembers what it was like to be skinny and small and scared raises his head and reminds him of the time she kept a sadistic reporter in a jar just because she had crossed her, and then Harry decides to play it safe.)

“Sorry.” Harry’s got a cut over his eye, right through the eyebrow. The nurse could have healed it in a second, scar and all, but the stubborn part of him waited until he got home, where Luna could heal it from the safety of his bathroom. “We didn’t know they were going to explode your shop.”

“Yeah.” Ge is clearly upset about that, but they won’t talk about it now, not when there are so many other things that touches on. Like the idea that it was his home that they attacked, and that they were going after something that was just as much a part of Fred as it was a part of him. It had to hurt, to see the thing they created together torn down. “Not much point to it.”

“Of course there’s point.” Draco is leaning back against the window. The only one of them seriously hurt enough to warrant a bed was Ginny, who had broken her ankle in three places from where she apparently vaulted herself off a roof and had to wait for a specialist.

“And what’s that?” Ron wasn’t as awful towards him as normal, but there was still a certain snap to his voice whenever he spoke to him.

“Fear. Terror. The idea that nothing is safe.” Draco is staring at the ground, and he still looks beautiful, even if he’s covered in dirt and grime and blood. Harry remembers what he was going to tell him and is hit with a wave of gratitude that he didn’t, because he doesn’t think he could bear leaving him behind, ever, and not having the right to demand to know if he was okay.

(There was a moment, where Harry was fighting and he saw Draco get knocked down to the dirt, just one heart stopping moment where he thought he might not be getting back up. And in that moment, he realized how pointless it all was, to throw away what they have today for a tomorrow that wasn’t even theirs yet, to let something so perfect slip through his hands.)

(Besides, if the universe was ever going to send him a sign to tell him that he was making a momentous mistake, having a fight break out just before he could choke out the words was a pretty good one.)

“When nothing is sacred, no target to small, everything bes a place of uncertainty.” Draco is still talking, still staring out the window. “Everything is something they can destroy, even the things that don’t seem to matter much, outside of what they mean to the people who care about it.”

“We should have known.” Ginny is white faced with the pain, and she has to speak through gritted teeth. Luna has not left her side since they got here, her hands fluttering from her shoulders to her hair to hovering over where the breaks were, but it wasn’t enough. “We should have known the fight wouldn’t end with him. There’s always something left over.”

How could we have known? Harry thinks, when they all nod, grim faced with their fear and the resignation of the battles yet toe. We’re kids playing at a war we don’t know how to fight.

“What’sing wille,” He hears himself say, because he is the leader, always, always had that thrust upon him even when he did not want it, and he has to say something to ease the fear. “And we’ll meet it when it does.”

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