A/N: A final, huge, insufficient thank you to TheHelpfulNeighborLady (AO3) for her time, her patience, her skills, and her suggestions in making this story what it is. Without her, we would not be here, at this final chapter. Thank you all for reading, commenting, and encouraging me. Enjoy.

The students were finally gone, which meant Potter was gone, too. It was a strange feeling. Not a student, and by no means a friend, Potter had simply become a fixture in Severus' life that left him feeling rather at a loss. Worse still was that he could not speak a word of it to Albus nor Minerva, the only two people he could potentially stand to actually call his friends.

He both hated and coveted the position Potter had put him in. He was the keystone to the entire plan to defeat the Dark Lord once and for all; he was Potter's representative in the adult world, and his advocate in the student world. But he knew Potter walked a delicate balance between light and dark, and he now questioned his ability to pull Potter back. He was not just an emotionally tortured ex-Auror. Every time a new piece of information was unveiled, it inevitably lead to another nail in the coffin. Potter was almost certainly a lost cause.

Yet he was the only cause.

Digging out the letter Potter had hastily given him in the entrance hall, Severus unfolded it and smoothed the parchment.

Severus,

I do not know what sort of situation I will be facing during the summer. I may have to send my owl, Hedwig, to stay with you. I will likely not make much progress in our quest until school resumes in September.

P.

Severus' hand tightened on his glass, the last of the whisky glimmering like an oil slick at the bottom. He had brushed Potter off, and hadn't had any meaningful interaction with him in weeks. Seducing Potter to retrieve information about his past had not been the wisest decision, and he was reluctant to try it again. But there was no denying that it had yielded results.

Sneering, Severus drank the last of his whisky down.

So desperate, so submissive, yet Potter held all the power. Totally disarmed and completely bound, Severus had no doubt Potter could still bend him to his will, or even kill him without a second thought. And here was Potter, feeding him tidbits of information out of context, reeling him into another mystery. It was alluringly intoxicating. That's why Severus had to stay away. Far away.

Potter was a dangerous flame, and Severus felt very much like a moth.

Harry and Draco shared a compartment. Ron refused to share with them, citing his Gryffindor sensibilities, and though Hermione rolled her eyes at him, she chose to stay with him.

'He needs someone,' she said patronizingly in a whisper to Harry and Draco.

Lost in his thoughts for most of the train ride, Harry sat quietly looking out the window while Draco talked at him. His plans for the summer, and what he was already looking forward to about their second year.

Namely, Quidditch.

'Higgs graduated, so there's going to be an opening for Seeker,' Draco said. 'I think I'll try out.'

Harry nodded. Quidditch seemed so trivial now. It had for years. It was one of the things he and Ginny used to fight about all the time.

'You're not?' Draco prodded. Harry shrugged.

'It seems like a waste of time. Especially if I decide I want to take my NEWTs.'

Draco scoffed.

'Quidditch is an important wizarding tradition, Potter. Try to keep up.'

He then expounded on the gravity of rooting for the proper team.

'What's your Quidditch team, then?'

'The Chudley Cannons,' Harry said automatically.

'Eugh!' Draco said, repulsed. 'They haven't won anything!'

'Not true,' Harry said. 'They won the League Cup twenty-one times,' he recited confidently, having heard Ron announce it to anyone who would listen since their first year together, 'the last time being in 1892.'

'You're mad,' Draco said, 'if you think that is a team worth following.'

They argued for a while longer, but Harry refused to give in, and Draco simply gave up. They fell into a comfortable silence, but it wasn't long before Draco began to fidget.

'I'm going to see if I can charm Jordan's tarantula into the Weasel's trunk,' Draco said at last. 'You coming?'

Harry shook his head, but also didn't stop Draco. It would be good to see how badly Ron could hex Draco by the end of this year. As Draco disappeared from the compartment, Harry dug into his bag for a quill, ink, and parchment. Smoothing out a small scrap on the seat next to him, he stuck the ink firmly beside it with a spell, and began to write, a small smile spreading across his face.

Pulling into platform nine and three quarters at King's Cross Station was surreal for Harry. He stared out the window, his heart clenching as he realized the usual faces that expected him would not be there for him. Draco teased him half-heartedly about his oversized jeans and jacket, but Harry's expression silenced him quickly. They met back up with Ron and Hermione after disembarking, and they were wishing Neville Longbottom a gentle farewell.

Harry and Neville locked eyes for a moment before the skittish boy made a beeline for the ticket barrier. He felt a pang of guilt rock him. Had he even said two words to Neville the entire year?

'You must come and stay this summer,' Draco said loudly to Harry, his eyes glancing toward Hermione and Ron.

'Spend my summer with just you?' Harry commented with a smirk, making significant eye contact with Ron, who snorted. Draco looked furious for a moment, but obviously felt unable to say what he truly felt because he leaned in. 'I'll owl you, Potter. Do not disappoint me.'

He strode past Harry so fast, Harry almost thought he may have truly upset him. But then the blond turned and looked back over his shoulder, shooting Harry a smirk.

'You're welcome to visit us, too, Harry,' Hermione said with a smile. Ron nodded.

'We have plans to visit, you know. Mum'll want to meet you both, I'm sure.'

They passed through the gateway together.

'There he is, Mum, there he is, look!'

It was Ginny, bouncing up and down next to Mrs Weasley, pointing excitedly at Harry. He felt himself flush, smiling in sad remembrance of their ill-fated romance, and the fact that he would never see his Ginny again.

'Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point.'

Mrs Weasley smiled down at the three of them.

'Busy year?' she asked.

'Very,' Harry said, with a wry smile. Hermione grinned next to him.

'Ready, are you?'

It was Uncle Vernon, looking the same as always: still purple-faced, still moustached, still looking furious at the nerve of Harry, being a wizard in public. Hedwig's cage was thankfully empty now, but he still looked odd carrying a large bird cage at a train station. Behind Vernon stood Aunt Petunia and Dudley, looking terrified at the very sight of Harry.

'Hurry up, boy, we haven't got all day.' He walked away.

Harry hung back.

'See you over summer, then.'

'Hope you have – er – a good holiday,' said Hermione, looking uncertainly after Vernon.

'Oh, I will,' Harry said, and both Ron and Hermione looked surprised. 'They don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home.' He gave them a wicked smirk as he turned away, and Ron and Hermione dissolved into giggles.

Remus Lupin was expecting an owl that day, but not the large snowy that tapped on the glass of his kitchen window. He hurried to open it and the regal bird glided in and landed primly on his table, helping herself to some of the toast crusts on his plate. He chuckled and went to her, untying the note attached to her leg and giving her head an affectionate stroke. She clicked her beak, rotated her head in a playful circle and took off, swooping back out the still open kitchen window.

Remus didn't know anyone with a snowy owl, so he hesitantly opened the note. It was written in a careful scrawl, and was left unsigned.

I have some information for you on the death of Peter Pettigrew and the betrayal of the Potters. If you are interested, meet me at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream shop tomorrow at one o'clock. I will approach you.

Remus swallowed hard. He thought about it almost every day: the betrayal, the murder. Sirius Black still rotting away in Azkaban, right where he belonged. But most of all, Remus felt the complete loss of his family like a constant wound. The people who had rounded him up and made him one of their own. They were all gone. He hesitated again - he didn't make a habit of going out in public, but he was between jobs and the rush of adrenaline he felt flood his system while reading the note was enough to tell him that he had to go.

The next day, Diagon Alley was, as usual, busy with the end of the lunch rush. Remus fought his way to the ice cream shop and walked in to order something small. As he waited in line, he scanned the shop and a man caught his eye. He had an attractive face and looked vaguely familiar, but Remus could not place him. His shaggy, sandy hair fell roguishly across his left eye.

'Your order, sir?'

'Oh, yes, um-' Remus turned back to the counter, distracted, and stuffed a hand into his robes for a few coins. 'Just a small vanilla, please.'

'Make it a large, and add chocolate,' a voice said beside him. A hand grabbed his wrist, gently but firmly. 'I've got this.'

The man with the sandy hair handed over the coins for his amended order, and gave him a smile, warm blue eyes flashing in delight.

'Hello, Moony.'

Fin.