Title – Sea Foam

Summary – Harry has retired from being an Auror and lives a quiet life by the ocean. When he visits the Ministry for a meeting he runs into a blast from the past, and seems unable to shake his hero-complex.

Rating – T

The ocean was something special. Harry loved the salt, the sand. He loved the perfect blue skies, he loved the gentle drizzles, and he loved the fierce storms that turned the waves into angry steel beasts. His home was only a few minutes away from the beach and he made point to visit it often. The sand was soft and fine between his toes and the air smelled unbelievably fresh. It was beautiful.

On the evening of a warm summer day, Harry spent his time on the beach. His hair was a wild black mess on his head, waving madly in the strong winds. Water lapped over his feet; he was just close enough that it brushed his toes. It was a cool and welcome in the sticky heat. He felt good listening to the ocean waves sweeping up the beach. His green eyes were nearly blue with the reflection of the night waves.

While living with the Dursleys he'd never seen the ocean. Now that the war was over and he had his own place he couldn't help but visit it. The ocean was an endless blue, pure freedom. It was dangerous and beautiful, calm and violent. It made him feel peaceful.

No people were on the beach. It was barren. No footsteps in the sand, asides from his own, no voices to be heard. Only the gulls above made noise. The sky was filled with stars, a gorgeous silver moon as the centerpiece. Its light glittered off of the water, a dazzling sight. Harry sighed and laid on his back, feeling the sand eagerly bond with his sweat.

Wonderful relaxation. After Hogwarts he'd decided to be an Auror, but quickly learned he couldn't handle more bloodshed. He retired with his fortunes and moved to a small wizarding town by the ocean. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley would come to visit but often he was alone. It wasn't particularly lonely he supposed. He didn't crave company, although he wouldn't mind it. For a while he'd considered getting a dog, but after Sirius the furry creatures had lost their appeal. Besides, it was peaceful enough alone.

It was well late when he returned home. His house was a little cottage a few minutes away. No lights were in his windows but it gave a cozy warmth and invitation that he could only compare to The Burrow. No houses were very close to his, the nearest a good ten minutes away on foot. Not that wizards usually went on foot. Harry just didn't enjoy Apparating.

For dinner he had mashed potatoes and gravy. Mrs. Weasley had taught him some general household spells when he'd first gotten his home, so the potatoes weren't burnt. They tasted reasonably good, although nothing compared to the woman herself's. As he chewed, Harry mulled over the idea of visiting The Burrow tomorrow. It would be nice to pop up, although Ron would probably be busy with work.

Hermione and Ron were living at The Burrow but Ron wasn't usually home until late at night. He was an Auror. Originally, he and Harry had been partners before Harry quit. He'd been very supportive, even though he didn't really understand why Harry would quit. Sometimes Harry didn't even understand why he quit. Was he a failure of a Gryffindor to quit his job saving people? His chest hurt every time he thought of what his parents would think.

With a clatter he put his plate in the sink and turned on the water. It quickly warmed to near scalding, turning his fingers pink as he washed the dishes that had accumulated. The smell of lavender soap calmed him down and he let his mind relax. Even here he could hear the ocean. Tomorrow he'd be going for a quick meeting at the Ministry with his lawyer and then he supposed he'd visit The Burrow. It would be nice to see Hermione and Mrs. Weasley. With a squeak he turned off the water and began towel drying the dishes. Doing things by hand was relaxing. Even now, doing magic still made him feel uneasy; a scar of living with the Dursleys.

The Ministry was filled with the usual bustle when he arrived. His disguise was a scruffy beard and shabby robes and it was astounding how effective it was. Nobody wanted to look at someone who wasn't presented in a normal way. He took the lifts up to the floor his lawyer's office was on and dropped his disguise. The halls were cleanly polished stone and a deep blue carpet lined the floor of the hall. Occasionally colorful memos would whizz by, off to wherever they were going. Harry was unobstructed until he was only a couple minutes away.

When he rounded the corner he came face to face with a duel. Two men stood across from each other, wands raised. Magic was crackling in the air, visible as a slight waver as though a heat wave. Harry stepped back instantly but both men turned to look at him. One he didn't recognize; a man with bright blue eyes and grey hair. The other was a pale man who had platinum blonde hair that fell around his shoulders and steely silver eyes; Draco Malfoy.

"Long time, no see, Potter," Malfoy said, a mocking sneer in place.

Harry nodded at him and made to walk on. The grey haired man raised his wand so quickly it was a blur. Reflexes moving like a cobra, Harry drew his own wand and threw up a Shield Charm with such force the man was blasted into the wall. The man wasn't moving from his slump so Harry approached him cautiously. With a whisper he cast a quick spell and confirmed the man was indeed out cold. He turned to see Malfoy with an odd expression on his face.

"You defended me."

"I defended myself," Harry said carefully.

Malfoy took a step forward, "Kylos wouldn't have attacked you. He was attacking me and you defended me. Why?"

"It's not the first time," He said, pocketing his wand.

For a moment there was silence and he knew they were both thinking of the same thing. Even now he remembered the smell of smoke, the blistering heat. Malfoy's expression had closed down, a blank smooth mask. Harry knew it too well from during the Malfoys' trial. Anything to do with the war brought out that emotionless side of Malfoy. Harry supposed he could understand the need for it. Often, it was only his ability to supress his emotions that let him survive losing so many people he loved.

"Anyways," Harry said uncomfortably into the silence, "I have to go. I have a meeting to get to."

"Where do you live?" Malfoy asked.

"Why?"

Malfoy cocked his head, "It's my duty to repay you. I'll have a gift sent over."

Harry frowned, "I don't want a gift from you."

"It's required I give you a gift," Malfoy said, "Where do you live?"

"It doesn't matter," Harry said firmly, and began walking away.

He could feel Malfoy's eyes on him as he walked. It made him feel uneasy but also something else he really couldn't pinpoint. When he arrived at his lawyer's office she was harassed and annoyed at his lateness, but the meeting was over quickly. When he returned to the hall Malfoy was gone. Of course. For a couple seconds he felt like an idiot for hoping he'd be there, but the feeling passed and he continued on to his next destination; The Burrow.

Cool water washed between his toes, swirling with sea foam. They were digging steady trenches in the sand that would fill with water every time the waves came in. It kept him centered, even though he wanted to scream. His nightmares had been bad. He felt bad. Everything was bad, but not this. He filled his lungs with a breath of salty air and exhaled slowly. He just had to stay calm. The sky was a lazy blue over the ocean, and the sun beat down on him as his thoughts spiraled around. He heard someone swear behind him and turned to look.

Malfoy was tromping towards him across the sand. He was still straightening up from what had been a stumble and had a box slung under his arm. Today he was wearing lighter robes made for hotter weather. Harry didn't say anything until Malfoy was beside him.

"How'd you find me?"

Malfoy scoffed, "It wasn't hard, Potter. Information can easily be acquired if you look in the right places. Finding the village you lived in was easy enough and the locals were eager to blab and say that you were always at this beach."

Harry shrugged, "Well you found me. What do you want?"

Malfoy held up the box, "Your gift."

"I don't want it," He said automatically.

"Don't disregard my gift," Malfoy said, irritation sharp in his voice, "Take the damn gift, Potter."

"I'm not going to accept a gift for helping someone. I didn't help you looking for a reward."

Malfoy swore under his breath and kicked at the sand, "That's not what the gift represents! It's to say thank you, not to reward you. It's an important tradition!"

"Just say thank you then and we'll be fine," Harry said.

"It's not that easy," He snapped, "The gift is a tradition. The item signifies the binding of an agreement-"

"What do you mean agreement?" Harry asked sharply.

Malfoy tapped the box, "It's an agreement that an equal trade was made. That the person who was defended has adequately returned the favor through money, and will continue to try to do so through action."

"I didn't even defend you!" Harry said, exasperated.

"You did, several times."

"Your mother paid me back for what happened at Hogwarts and what happened at the Ministry wasn't even saving your life," Harry said, irritated.

"Kylos was dueling to kill. He'd lost family to Death Eaters. You helped us at the Ministry trial as well. You kept me out of Azkaban. I owe you," Malfoy said his voice nearly bitter, "Hence the gift."

"Fine!" Harry said, "I'll take your bloody gift."

Malfoy handed it to him looking smug, "Finally came to your senses."

The box was deep red and made of soft material. Harry opened it cautiously. Inside was a silver earring with –if he wasn't mistaken- little diamonds on it, round and clear like mildew. Tiny red gems were scattered among them like drops of blood. It was beautiful, but Harry knew he couldn't accept something so expensive. He didn't even pierce his ears.

He held up the box to Malfoy, "I'm sorry but I can't accept this."

"I'm not taking it back," Malfoy said, "It's yours now."

"I don't even have pierced ears," Harry said, "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Here," Malfoy took the earring, "Allow me."

Harry held still as Malfoy kneeled beside him. Malfoy's hands tickled his ear, there was a slight pinch and then he drew away. Harry touched his ear and felt the earring firmly in place. It was cold against his skin and his ear felt heavier than usual. Malfoy was still kneeling beside him, smirking as though very satisfied with himself.

"Thank you for defending me," Malfoy said quietly.

"You're welcome," He replied.

To his surprise, Malfoy didn't leave. Instead he sat down in the sand beside Harry and took off his shoes and socks. His feet were very slender and pale, moonlight on the sand. Harry didn't say anything and Malfoy didn't seem to want to either. They both sat listening to the roar of the sea, their feet just barely dipping into the seawater. Finally, when it felt like they both might never speak again, Malfoy spoke.

"I owe you a lot, Harry."

"I could say the same," He said, registering the use of his first name, "You saved our lives at the Manor."

Draco scoffed, "Yes, because hiding like a coward makes me such a hero. I'm going to pay you back, Harry. This won't be the last you see of me."

"I won't be able to shake you?" Harry asked, smiling a bit.

"Not even if you tried."

Once again there was only the sound of the ocean. It was a peaceful sound, a calm sound, and –Harry found- a sound better to be shared.

A/N I had fun writing this. I hope you enjoyed reading. Drop me a review to tell me what you liked.