Ab Epistulis

Draco shuffled through the papers in front of him and looked up at Blaise. "Was there this much paperwork the last time I opened a store?" He heaved an exasperated sigh and ran a frustrated hand through his hair, causing a few errant strands to fall upon his shoulder. "I swear to god they're multiplying."

Blaise quirked a smile. "Yes there was, but there might actually be a few more this time. Opening a store in London is a tad trickier than opening one in Edinburgh, especially if you want to maintain the store's half muggle/half wizard appeal." Blaise pulled a map out of the pile of documents and opened it up. "I took the liberty of seeing a property agent to throw a few ideas at you of where you might like to set up shop. There is a plot near Gringotts to appeal to the Diagon Alley crowd," Draco shot Blaise a look. "I know, I know. I thought you might like to avoid the Diagon Alley thing too, but the guy insisted upon showing it to you." Blaise pointed to a spot just west of Hyde Park. "Here's a plot you might really like. It's just east of the heart of London in the Knightsbridge district."

"I'm familiar with the Knightsbridge district; great shopping there, but what about the wizard aspect of my store? Wizards won't want to travel a long distance for a simple book; they'll go to Flourish and Blott's instead."

"That's the beauty of this venture. You couldn't have picked a better time to want to expand to London. There's talk of a new wizarding quarter going in near Knightsbridge. It will cater to a crowd slightly more modern than the Diagon Alley goers; it is planned to have several muggle features, as well as a look similar to the one found in Italy's wizarding quarter in Milan."

"Really? I love the Quarto di Milano. It's quaint, yet classy. Leave it to the Italians to combine class with a simplistic modern contempo-casual feeling. It would be nice to angle in on that plot before Flourish and Blott's steak their claim as well." Draco picked up the piece of paper that held the property statistics along with a few pictures. "This is almost too good to be true; what's the downside?"

Blaise shook his head. "Aside from the cost, none that I've noticed. It will be quite expensive to get on your feet, but it's nothing you can't handle. Your expenditures should more than make themselves up in profit with the first few quarters." Blaise paused thoughtfully for a moment and scratched his chin. "There is, however, one thing."

"Bollocks, I knew this was too good to be true. What is it?"

"It's not necessarily a bad thing, it's just a minor detail." Blaise took the map and drew a small red circle on the east side of Hyde park. "Your plot would be about ten blocks from the orphanage, which is located here." He tapped the circle with the tip of his pen.

"You're fucking kidding me, right? The orphanage, as in Potter's orphanage?" Blaise gave a solemn nod. "I can't believe it. Out of all of London and its 7 million people, I'm going to end up ten blocks from Potter?" Draco groaned dramatically. "I swear to god, someone upstairs is laughing at me right this very instant."

"It's no big deal, Draco. I'm sure you two will never run into each other."

"It's ten blocks, Blaise. Ten bloody blocks. With our luck, we'll be seeing each other every damned day." Draco ran his fingers through his hair again and took a deep calming breath. He noticed the nervous habit and quickly dropped his hands to his side. "No, you're right. It's no big deal. I'm making something out of nothing. It's just that I haven't seen him or spoken to him since the funeral ten years ago." Draco stood up and moved to his window and stared out. "It's not even like we parted on bad terms, it's just..." He paused, searching. "I don't know. I just don't know. Everything seems to come back to him one way or another. But this isn't about him. This is about me and my business opening up a location in London. Fuck, Potter. He is just a man; a man with flesh and blood like any other." Blaise nodded sadly. Draco was grateful for the interruptive knock on his office door. "Yes?"

A short girl of about twenty-five years in age poked her head in the door. "Draco? Isis just brought your post. You said you wanted me to bring it to you when it arrived, so here it is." She stepped fully into the room and handed Draco the small stack of letters. She looked at him bashfully under long lashes and toed the floor.

"Yes?" he drawled languidly. "Is there something else, Sarah?"

"MayIpleaseleaveanhourearlytonight?" She said in one long rushed sentence.

Draco arched an eyebrow and looked at her oddly. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch anything past 'blah blah blah.' Care to repeat that?"

Sarah blushed and continued to stare at the floor. "May I please leave an hour early tonight? I think Jareth is going to propose tonight. He got reservations at Martin Wishart for 8pm, and I was wondering if I could leave at 6:30 instead of 7:30 so I can go home and get ready." She finally raised her eyes and looked hopefully at her boss.

Draco arched an elegant brow and smiled warmly. "Indeed? It must be serious if he's taking you to Martin Wishart. He must have had these reservations for months. Of course you can leave early, and while you're there, be sure to start with Fess Parker's 1984 vintage white chardonnay. It's an American vineyard from Santa Barbara, but that was a particularly good year. It's not too pricy, but is a perfect accent to a special evening and goes brilliantly with the lobster and truffle ravioli with buttered Savoy cabbage and shellfish cream."

Sarah continued to blush, but nodded. "Thank you, Draco. I'll be sure to try that." She walked to the door and headed out. "I'll see you later!" She called cheerfully over her shoulder and tossed a wave his way.

Blaise stood staring at Draco with an amused look on his face. "What?" Draco finally huffed out, not able to take his look any longer.

Blaise just shook his head and smiled. "You," he started, "are something else."

Draco furrowed his brow and frowned slightly. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Blaise clasped his friend on the shoulder and looked upon him kindly. "Simply that, my friend. Simply that."

Draco nodded and began shuffling through the post Sarah had brought in. A particular letter caught his attention. "Oi! He wrote back, Blaise."

"He being...?"

"J. Evans!" Draco happily set the rest of the post down and examined the envelope. It was a simple muggle white rectangle with less than neat handwriting addressing it. Draco smiled at how the 'y' in Malfoy looked more like a 'g'.

"You mean you actually got over yourself and wrote him in the first place? You didn't tell me that." Blaise scoffed and folded his arms across his chest. "I think I'm hurt, Draco. I'm the one that gave you the idea in the first place, and you didn't even tell me you did it."

Draco snorted and rolled his eyes. "Oh, get over it, you great lummox. Now, get lost while I see what he has to say, alright?"

"And to think that I call you my best friend." Blaise huffed theatrically as he gathered up the paperwork along with his briefcase and headed for the office door. "Hey, we're still on for lunch tomorrow, right?"

Draco smiled. "Absolutely." He quirked an eyebrow and smirked. "I might even tell you about the letters."

"I see we're making a regression to adolescence, now. First the note passing, then the spilling of the secrets. What next, you want me to pass him a note that says, 'My friend likes you. Do you like him? Please circle one: Yes / No' because I don't think I'd be able to do that. I may be your paper-jockey, but the line needs to be drawn somewhere." Blaise snarked with a sarcastic smile on his face.

"Out!" Draco laughed as he pushed his friend out the door so he could return to the letter. He pulled it out of the envelope and unfolded it. It was a simple crisp sheet of white paper. The letter was neatly typed with a small scribbled signature at the bottom.

03 August

Dear Mister Malfoy,

Thank you for your kind letter regarding my novel. I am pleased to see that you enjoyed it. As cliché as this may sound, I enjoyed writing it. I must confess, however, that I am not a novelist by trade and that was most likely a one time deal. I had several things I needed to work through and letting everything out through writing a book seemed the easiest thing to do.

Your letter intrigued me because it brought up several points that I had not previously considered; the main one being the relationship between Daniel and Thomas. Looking back upon my own relationship with the person whom Thomas was based on, you are right about the importance of the consistency the two of them shared. I wouldn't call the animosity they shared "mock hatred," however, I do agree with you on the point that as the years progressed, the hatred they had evolved into something different and unique. At times, their sparring was more of an act than anything else. The two of them were so set in their roles when the war was in full swing, they depended upon that one constant to keep them sane, even if it caused each of them pain in the process. While Daniel and Thomas did hate one another in the beginning, they certainly didn't at the end. However, saying that what they shared was love is something I'm not quite sure I can agree with.

I must concede to you on your point about the profound effect Thomas had on Daniel, nevertheless. Looking back on the novel and my own life in hindsight, Thomas was a pivotal figure in both. I had never thought of it in this way before, but now that I have, you are absolutely right. Thomas affected Daniel perhaps just as much as Rupert did. He affected Daniel in a different way than Rupert, though however different, no less important.

As for ending the story with hope rather than despair, I was always taught that if the ending wasn't resolved, then it wasn't really the end. Of course, that doesn't always hold true in real life, but in this circumstance, I felt that it was appropriate. A war is a tragic ordeal filled with death, suffering, and endless amounts of pain. The end of the war in and of itself is a beacon of hope, which will hopefully radiate into the future for a very long time. As long as the future is our own, than there is always hope.

In closing, I offer a turning of the tables. I have given you Daniel's side of the relationship, so I want you to give me Thomas' side. How do you see Daniel as being a pivotal person in his life? Why? What do you think the relationship meant to Thomas? I look forward to hearing your opinions on the matter. Until then, I wish you the best of luck with your business.

Regards,

J. Evans

Draco smiled at the letter and set it down gently upon his desk. He would deal with a response later; right now, he needed to cover Sarah's shift before he could go home.

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"Harry, I don't see what the big deal is. This is the way things have been for the past 5 years, why are you upset now?" Grace looked up at her boyfriend who was currently pacing a hole through the floor, angrily throwing his arms in the air.

"I know, I know! It's just that sometimes I feel like we've only got a summer fling going on with you being away for nine months out of the year." He stopped his pacing and looked at his girlfriend with sad eyes. "Why can't we be like a normal couple?"

Grace put her hands on her hips and glared. Her gray eyes narrowed in anger, "Harry, normal couples get married at some point in their relationship, but you obviously didn't want to do that."

"Grace, the issue of us getting married has nothing to do with the fact that you're gone for nine months each year."

"Actually, Harry, it does. You're missing the bigger issue entirely." She was throwing her clothes in her trunk haphazardly while stomping to and fro fetching things. "The bigger issue is sacrifice. You're unwilling to sacrifice anything for us to be together."

"Me?" Harry shouted. "Oh, that's rich!" Harry flung his hands in the air and pulled them back into his dark tresses, tugging so hard his knuckles were white. "Really, who are you to talk about sacrifice when you leave the bloody country for your job. I at least stay here in London where we live."

"Right!" Grace screamed back, throwing a handful of clothes forcefully into the trunk, causing the lid slam shut. "About where we live, Mister I-Could-Never-DREAM-of-Leaving-London. I have brought up the idea of moving to Hogsmeade several times, but you simply can't bear to leave your precious city."

"That's because the bloody orphanage is here!"

Grace stopped her stomping and turned to look at her boyfriend with large pleading doe-eyes. "Then why can't you leave it for Mrs. Weasley and Ginny to take care of and open another one in Hogsmeade?" She knew he would never do it, but she couldn't help but put in one last plea.

Harry signed. His anger was starting to fade and he was left with an overwhelming sense of anguish. "I can't do it for the same reason you can't leave your job as the Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts. One of us would be unhappy." He reached out his hand to grasp hers. She met him halfway and allowed him to pull her close. Her cheeks were damp with tears and she looked up at him with remorse.

"Our lives have finally caught up with us, it seems." She whispered into his broad chest. He idly stroked her back and let a long silence fill the room. The silence alone made it seem unbearably loud. Finally, Grace spoke. "Does this mean we're over?"

Harry signed and didn't answer her for a long time. "I love you, Grace. I really do, but neither one of us is willing to give our profession up for the sake of the other, and it wouldn't be good for the relationship if we did. We're headed in different directions; we have been for years. It's just starting to show." He inhaled deeply and set a memory of her soft lilac scent and brushed the tears from his eyes with the pad of his thumb.

"You're my best friend, Harry Potter. Even if we can't be anything more than that, promise me that we'll always be friends." She looked into his eyes and moved to kiss him. She let her eyes slide shut upon contact with his lips. The kiss was salty with tears and painfully laden with emotion. When the kiss ended, they stayed embraced, neither willing to let the other go quite yet. "One day we're going to realize that this is for the best."

"I hope," he whispered her hair, a few loose strands tickling his nose as he did so. "I sincerely hope."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grace left the following morning with tears in her eyes. They promised to stay in touch and remain friends, but would pursue other interests. Harry crawled back into bed after seeing her off and hugged his pillow. It still had the faint smell of lilacs causing the tears, which he had so bravely held off, to flow down his cheeks. Even if breaking up was for the best, five years was a long time to invest with another human being. Giving someone your heart and getting it handed back in pieces is a painful ordeal to recover from.

Harry wasn't sure what time it was, but sometime after night had fallen, a weight settled onto his bed and wrapped a pair of warm, loving arms around him. The stranger smelled like peaches and cream. "Ginny," he croaked out. "Ah, shit, I'm so sorry. I forgot all about our meeting tonight."

The arms held him tighter and shushed him. "Hush, you. Don't worry about it. I figured you were pretty torn up about Grace leaving, so we had the meeting without you. I came by to see how you were doing and to drop off the things we went over."

"She's not coming back, Gin," he whispered. He closed his eyes and pulled the pillow closer. "We decided that it was for the best."

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry." She kissed his temple and moved to get up. "I'll be right back, okay? I'm just going to fire-call Neville and tell him I'm going to stay here tonight." Harry started to protest, but Ginny held up her hand. "I'm not going to take "no" for an answer. You need someone, and I'm here. That's what friends are for. You'd do the same for me if the situation were reversed."

He arched an eyebrow. "I highly doubt you and Neville would ever get divorced."

Ginny's lip curled up into a smirk. "Shut-up, Potter, that's not the point." She crawled out of Harry's bed and walked to the door. "I'll be right back."

It was twenty minutes before Ginny found her way back to the bedroom, but when she came, she was carrying a tray laden with snacks and drinks. "Knowing you, you probably haven't eaten all day so I helped myself to some things in your kitchen. I hope you don't mind." Harry gave her a grateful smile and made a reach for one of the small cucumber sandwiches. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry shook his head and stuffed the rest of the sandwich in his mouth. After swallowing, he spoke up. "Not really. There's nothing to talk about. I think she's still upset that I didn't want to get married. She said that it wasn't right that we were unwilling to make sacrifices for each other, but that if we did, it wouldn't be healthy for the relationship. We're simply too career-oriented." He paused, "But I don't want to talk about it."

Ginny nodded empathetically. "No, of course not." She put her arm around him and leaned into him.

"I just don't understand, Gin. Why didn't I want to marry her? What's wrong with me?"

Ginny pulled his head down onto her shoulder and soothingly stroked his hair with her fingers. "Were you in love with her?"

"Well of course I was," he answered quickly.

"No, think for me, Harry. I know you loved her, but were you in love with her? They're similar terms, but a hold world of difference."

Harry sat silent for a long while before he finally answered. "I don't know."

"Then," Ginny reasoned, "wouldn't that be your answer?"

"No--I don't know--it's just...how do you know?" he asked lamely.

"Well, let me ask you this, would you move to Canada if Hermione asked you to?"

Harry thought for a moment. "I suppose it would depend on her reason for wanting me in Canada, but probably not."

Ginny nodded and continued. "Okay, how about if Neville and I moved to Paris and begged you to come with us because you're our best friend and it just wouldn't be the same without you."

Harry raised an eyebrow, but answered. "No, your life is your own. There's no reason for me to be there. I mean, if you wanted to move, it's your prerogative, but there's no sense in me being there, is there? I can always visit you guys. It's not difficult to get a Portkey to Paris."

Ginny smiled. "Okay, last question. If you met someone who filled you totally and completely and you simply couldn't live without them in your life, would you move?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I know what your trying to do," He finally cracked a smile, "and it's working. My answer is no, I wouldn't. However, if said person was really that important in my life, I shouldn't have to. Said person would meet me halfway and respect and understand my need for being where I am right now."

"You're absolutely right Harry, but what if you didn't have that choice? Take me and Neville for example. What if he got transferred to the Americas and it was either take the job or get fired? Despite the fact that my family and job are here, I would leave everything behind just to be with him. It's a sacrifice, but a sacrifice I am willing to make if the alternative is losing him."

Harry inhaled deeply and let it out in a long extended breath. "She asked me to move, you know. To leave London and get a place in Hogsmeade." Harry closed his eyes and frowned. "I just couldn't do it, Gin. I couldn't leave all of this behind to be with her. I love what I do more than anything in the world, even her in the end. I didn't think that it was fair that she should make me chose my job or my relationship with her. After all, I had the orphanage before I had her."

"While I'll agree that you are right in the fact that it wasn't right for her to force you to choose between her or the orphanage, is it fair to her to have to play second string fiddle to your job?"

"I know you're right," he signed. "I just don't want to admit it right yet."

"Listen, there's no sense in talking about this anymore tonight. Why don't we get some rest and deal with this in the morning? We can take the kids to the zoo before they have to go back to school; that always cheers you up."

Harry nodded and smiled weakly. "Aye, that sounds nice." Harry extinguished the light and settled into a thankfully dreamless sleep with the comfort of his friend's love surrounding him.

Harry woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and somewhat improved. Though the pain of losing someone he once thought he would spend the rest of his life with was still there, it wasn't nearly as bad as it was the night before. He noticed the empty bed and assumed Ginny had gone back home sometime after he fell asleep, but was proved wrong when she popped her head into the doorway. "I hope you don't mind, but I fire-called mum to give her a heads up on what was going on. She's going to give the staff a heads up about the zoo," she paused to give him a dazzling grin, "and have a plate of hotcakes waiting for you when you get there."

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and grumbled. "I don't see why you're making such a fuss out of this," he paused and cracked a smile, "but your mum's hotcakes make it more than worth it." He returned her a toothy grin.

"I thought that might change your tune. I'm going to head over there right now to help get the kids organized and ready to go. I'll see you in about a half an hour?"

"Yes, I just have to shower and shave. I'll see you in half a tick." Ginny turned to leave the room, but Harry called her back. "Hey, Ginny?" She paused in the threshold and looked back. "Thank you." She smiled and gave him a nod before walking out.

When Harry Apparated to the orphanage a half hour later, several of the children came to greet him and profess how much they had missed him the previous day. He smiled and said that he had missed them too. The smell of Mrs. Weasley's famous hotcakes invaded his senses and he quickly made his way into the kitchen.

When the older woman noticed him enter the room, she rushed over to gather him in a bone-crushing hug. Harry winced in pain, but smiled nonetheless. "It's good to see you too, Mrs. Weasley." He chuckled.

"Oh, Harry darling, I am so sorry to hear about Grace. When Ginny fire-called me this morning to tell me what was going on, I simply couldn't believe it. I know how much you two loved each other."

Harry gave her a small smile and helped himself to a heaping plate of her famous cakes. "Not enough, but it's all right. It hurts, but it is for the best. In the long run, we were just too different. We both wanted different things in life, and in the end, those choices finally caught up with us, I guess."

"Sometimes these things happen and we don't understand why they do at the time, but we will in the future. Just remember love, everything happens for a reason. Although you may not see the reason yet, you will soon. I promise you."

Harry nodded his thanks and held his plate up. "Is it all right if I take this in my office to finish? The faster I get my office stuff done, the faster the kids and I can head to the zoo."

"Absolutely, darling. Don't eat too fast, and come back and get some more if you're still hungry. I made plenty." Mrs. Weasley shoed him out of the kitchen and sent him on his merry way. Harry walked into his office and sat down at his desk. The first thing he noticed was the pile of mail sitting in the center of his desk. He began organizing it into the customary piles of bills, junk mail, legal stuff, and letters. He paused when he came to the elaborate envelope sealed with the Malfoy family crest. He turned the letter over and saw Draco's elegant scrawl addressing a letter to J. Evans. Harry smiled brightly and immediately opened the letter. The letter was once again written on Argiletum's stationary in Draco's disgustingly neat handwriting and green ink. He couldn't help but imagine Draco sitting at some huge professional immaculate desk with everything in proper order writing the letter out.

Argiletum

82 Royal Mile

Edinburgh

EH1 1TH Scotland

0845 270 1543

10 August

Dear Mister Evans,

Thank you for taking the time to respond to my quarries and thoughts regarding your novel. I must profess how pleased I am to be able to discuss this with you. I have read your novel so many times, that perhaps by now, I know it better than you yourself. I find it interesting that you had never given much thought to the relationship between Thomas and Daniel, despite the fact that it was so plain to see. Maybe you were dependant upon the relationship without even realizing it. It would be interesting to find out if Thomas, since you said he was based on an actual individual, felt the same way. Do you know what ever became of him?

In response to your questions posed, I saw Thomas as somewhat of a "lost" character. He did not yet know his place in the world and depended too much upon the reactions of those surrounding him. I think my heart breaks for him most of all. Daniel had Rupert and Emma to depend upon, but Thomas only had himself. I think that if it weren't for Daniel, than Thomas would have ended up beyond survival. I don't think Daniel ever understood the importance of those seemingly trivial encounters the two of them shared; without them, Thomas would have ended up a different man in a much less favorable place. Daniel helped keep things relative for Thomas and gave him a reason to come back rather than defect for real.

At times I feel like I understand the inner psyche of Thomas. When I was a lad I knew a 'Daniel' of my own, and shared a similar relationship with him. I know for certain that if it weren't for him and the consistency he offered in my life that I would have ended up in a place I would much rather not be. It's odd, because we had a similar dance of anger that Thomas and Daniel shared; yet with us, it was almost fun. It was a break from the war, a break from death. It was an immature childish way to go about forgetting, but that's all we were: children. I could always count on him for a certain reaction or action. Looking back on the situation as an adult, it's amazing to me to see how much my Daniel helped shape my life and who I am today, loathe as I am to admit it.

Perhaps that is why I love your novel as much as I do. It reminds of a time in my youth and makes everything seem worth it. It reminds me to be thankful for everything we fought for and reminds me that despite my losses, it was the right thing to do. In the end, I suppose that is all that matters.

Sincerely,

Draco L. Malfoy

Owner of Argiletum

Harry's eyes were glassy when he finished the letter, but a smile was crawling onto his face. He put the letter away and quickly finished up the most pressing of business matters before heading out to the zoo with the children to have an inordinate amount of fun for the first time in days.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Latin:

Ab Epstulis = The Correspondence (or with corresponding)

Argiletum = The booksellers' district in Rome

Misaratus Avius = Harry's book is loosely titled the "Miserably Wandering" (in refrence to Harry's own personal journey)