Dave took one look at Harry and gave a low whistle. Harry blinked in surprise, but was unable to successfully fight back a smile.

"Hi," he said, accepting Dave's arm around his waist as Dave pulled him in close.

"I like the 'no glasses' look," Dave said, giving him a gentle kiss on the lips. "Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are the most amazing green?" He leaned back and gazed into Harry's eyes. Harry felt a jolt of surprise as he was inexplicably reminded of Malfoy this morning, looking at him across the breakfast table.

"Can't say they have," Harry said lightly, still smiling. He was right - he had known that he would enjoy the date once he arrived, but it had been particularly difficult to leave after everything that had happened this morning. He hadn't liked leaving Malfoy on his own after that. Although it gave him an uncomfortable jolt in the stomach, he hoped Zabini came over or something so that Malfoy didn't have to be alone.

"Shall we order?" Dave asked, leading Harry over to a small cafe that overlooked the jetty. Harry hadn't even noticed they were by the water, he'd been so distracted by Dave's greeting.

"Sure," he said, taking a seat at one of the outside chairs. The waiter came to take their order, and they were left alone again.

"Do you like it here?" Dave asked, glancing over at the water.

"It's beautiful," Harry said truthfully, although his mind was back at Grimmauld place, worrying about Malfoy.

He caught sight of Dave watching him, and gave a start. Dave had a strange expression on his face, but Harry couldn't place what it was. He felt he had seen it before. He frowned slightly; it wasn't a nice expression, and for some reason it made his knees hurt in remembered pain. Then Dave seemed to shake it off and smiled at Harry.

"So what's normal life like, after defeating the greatest Dark Wizard of our time?" Dave said with a grin.

Harry smiled. "Delightfully dull," he said.

"How did you do it anyway?" he asked. "No article ever really covered it. Did you train for a long time?"

Harry pulled a face. "No, I got lucky."

Dave nodded, his eyes intense on Harry's face. "There were rumours that you were looking for magical items in the year before his death," he said.

Harry thought of the Horcruxes and shrugged. "Something like that, but not quite."

Dave made a show of looking disappointed. "So, no secret, powerful, objects, then?"

Harry stared at him. Dave's expression was light, curious. "No," Harry said slowly. "'Fraid not."

"That's a shame," Dave said, waving a hand. "It was an exciting thought."

Harry decided he was being overcautious and forced himself to relax.

"I thought you must have been looking for the Elder Wand," Dave said.

Through a magnificent effort, Harry managed to adjust his expression from shock and fear down to mild surprise. "Er," he said brilliantly.

"But you obviously just stumbled on it, then?" Dave continued, seemingly oblivious to Harry's shock.

"Well," Harry said and then stopped. Dave looked up.

"Some articles got enough right about your final battle for those of us who know about the wand to read between the lines," he said with a grin. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"You didn't," Harry said slowly. "Just a bit surprised. Like you say, I thought most people didn't really follow what happened. I didn't know it was reported anywhere. I figured some people knew, but no one's ever asked me about it."

"Most people don't care," Dave said with a shrug. He leaned around the table and looked at Harry's pocket. "So is that it?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I gave it up," he said firmly.

Dave looked shocked. "Why?"

Harry shrugged. "Didn't want it," he said, feeling more uncomfortable with the conversation by the second. But then, he'd been able to trust Malfoy, why couldn't he trust Dave? Perhaps because Malfoy had proved himself, despite the alignment of his family. "I got rid of it," he said.

"Where?" Dave asked quickly. Then he held up his hands and shook his head. "Nevermind, doesn't matter, does it? It's still yours," he laughed. "I'm just surprised that you're leaving yourself so vulnerable. People would have to come after you for it anyway, but you've left yourself defenseless and made them think they have a chance."

"Well, you're the only one who knows," Harry said, a touch briskly. "So unless you're going to try to take it from me, I think I'm safe."

Dave seemed to pick up on Harry's mood and held up a hand apologetically. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean anything by it." His face took on a teasing expression. "Do you always throw powerful magical items away?" he asked.

Harry thought of the stone of wisdom, lying forgotten in the Forbidden Forest. "No, sometimes I drop them in the bloody forest," he muttered to himself.

He must have said it louder than he had thought, because Dave looked up at him suddenly. Harry didn't elaborate. Something about the gleam in Dave's eyes was making him very uncomfortable.

The waiter came with their meals and Dave changed the subject to quidditch. Soon they were discussing game news eagerly. Harry began talking about his latest training endeavors, and before Harry knew it was time for him to leave.

"Thank you for today," Harry said, leaning in to give Dave a quick kiss on the cheek. Before he made contact, Dave turned his head and met Harry's lips with his own. Dave slid his hand along the back of Harry's neck and held him there, firmly but gently deepening the kiss. Harry's lips parted, and Dave slid his tongue along Harry's mouth, smiling against Harry's lips.

It was a good kiss, but Harry felt somehow unhappy. He sighed and pulled back. Dave didn't notice, taking it as the natural end to the kiss.

"I'll owl you," Harry said, forcing a smile.

Dave nodded and Harry apparated, wondering why it felt as though he were running away.

When he opened the door to Grimmauld place he heard yelling. His first instinct was that he was under attack, but then he realised that it was normal, argument yelling, like when Ron and Hermione had a fight. He wondered what his chances were of making it to the stairs without being seen, since Malfoy and Zabini were obviously in the living room. He began to edge slowly past.

"I don't care what you think!" Malfoy spat. "No one asked for your opinion!"

"That doesn't mean you don't need it," Zabini said snidely. "I'm telling you, you need to forget the whole damn thing. And I am offering to help you do just that, but you're throwing it back in my face, like an idiot."

"I'm the idiot?!" Malfoy's voice was incredulous. "I'm not the one who's so emotionally stunted they can't understand such a simple concept! I'm falling in l-"

Harry took a deep breath and tried to move past the living room doorway in one smooth movement. Malfoy's choked gasp made him stop. He'd been spotted. He turned to the doorway and waved halfheartedly, trying to pass it off like he was completely deaf and hadn't even noticed the demented screams that were competing for audibility with conversations three streets away.

Malfoy stared at him in horror, clearly shocked at being caught in the middle of a lover's spat. Zabini's eyes were wide in surprise and, then, suddenly, his expression changed to absolute hilarity. Harry couldn't figure out what was so funny, but from the contrasting raw emotion on Malfoy's face, he was forced to conclude that Zabini was a complete idiot.

"Well, that's my cue," Zabini said, grinning viciously. "We'll talk later, Draco." He pushed his way past Harry and let himself out.

Harry rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, waiting for Malfoy to stop staring at him so that he could pretend this never happened and go upstairs. Malfoy kept staring.

"Well, I'm going to go," he paused. "Upstairs," he said slowly. "And. Well. When it's dark, we'll go look for the stone, yeah?" He chanced a look at Malfoy. Malfoy's eyes were frantic.

"How much did you hear?" Malfoy asked finally, his voice significantly higher than usual.

So that's what Malfoy was worried about. "It's alright," Harry said, holding up his hands. "I didn't hear any details. And for what it's worth, I reckon Zabini would be an emotionally stunted idiot in a relationship. You're brave for trying. You'll bring him round I'm sure," he made some kind of gesture that was meant to be encouraging and then gave up. He'd never been part of a relationship pep talk before and he felt that now wasn't the time to start.

"Zabini," Malfoy said slowly, his brows furrowing. He stared at Harry before suddenly relaxing. "Yeah, what a twit," he said, eying Harry sideways. He promptly sat down on the couch and picked up a book.

Harry fled. When he reached his room, he spent the next few hours trying desperately to think of exactly where he had been standing in the forest when he had dropped the stone, but his memory was a complete blur.

A whistling broke through his thoughts and he realised that someone was trying to Floo him. He raced downstairs to the now empty living room and stuck his head into the fire.

Ron and Hermione smiled at him from where they knelt in front of the hearth. Harry was pleased to see that they didn't appear to have been chased by museum curators or angry policemen.

"How did you go?" he asked.

"Alright," Hermione said with a wry grin. "We managed to get something out of there, although I think someone saw us in the end."

"S'alright though," Ron added puffing out his chest. "I distracted them with my astounding wit."

Hermione laughed. "The book screamed a little when I picked it up. I thought I had covered all those spells, but I missed the most obvious. Ron managed to convince the guards that he had seen a spider. He gave a very convincing scream."

Harry laughed, while Ron looked slightly deflated. "Can I have the book?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head, looking grave. "Not yet," she said. "I'll have to look into getting around the export laws here. I'm not sure if we'll even be able to take it away at all. But I've studied it a little. It was the most worn item in his collection, so Grindelwald clearly kept coming back to it. It talks about uniting the Hallows, but then it gets confusing. It seems to start talking about house elves and goblins and centaurs. I'm not sure what it means yet."

Harry started to get excited again. "You're brilliant, Hermione," he said with feeling. "And you, Ron. That's exactly what I needed to know. It confirms what Draco and I had been thinking."

"Draco?!" Ron and Hermione both repeated, shocked.

Harry bit his tongue sharply, but the damage was done. He tried to pass it off casually instead. "Well, we decided all that last name stuff was getting a bit juvenile," he said.

Ron wrinkled his nose in disgust while Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Did you?" she asked, her voice deceptively light.

"Well, I'd better go," Harry said quickly. "Thanks so much for getting that. It's exactly what I needed."

"Wait, Harry," Hermione said, her tone becoming urgent. "There's something else."

Harry paused.

"It looks like Grindelwald knew that your father was the descendant of the brothers," Hermione said. "He had books on their genealogy. If that's the case, and the cloak passes from descendant to descendant, this Death Eater might know that you have the cloak too. So be careful."

Harry felt his excitement die. If Twilfitt really was after the Hallows, he could easily know that Harry had the cloak and the wand. What if he found out about the stone, too?

"Thanks, Hermione," he said. "Look, I'd really better go. Thanks again. I'll owl you."

They said goodbye and Harry pulled back into the living room. It was still empty. He went searching for Malfoy and found him in his sitting room with the door open, playing guitar.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

Malfoy nodded without looking up and put his guitar down in its stand. "After you," he said.

"You play well, Draco," Harry said, looking back at Malfoy as they walked down the stairs.

Malfoy's head whipped up in shock, although whether it was from the compliment or the name, Harry wasn't sure.

"Thanks, Harry," he said, before looking back down.

Harry figured that Malfoy was still upset over his argument with Zabini, and decided to leave him in peace. He held out his arm when they were on the step and Malfoy took it lightly before they apparated back to Hogwarts.

"Right," Malfoy said, looking at the gate in trepidation. "How do we get in without alarming everyone?"

Harry had already thought ahead. "I sent an owl to Professor McGonagall," he said, lifting a hand and letting it rest on the gates. The gates swung open, letting them pass before shutting behind them.

"I've been trying to remember where I was when I dropped it," Harry said quietly. "But I wasn't really paying attention at the time."

"Pathetic," Malfoy said, shaking his head. "You were only walking toward probable death. You should have been paying more attention."

Harry laughed. "Certain death, you mean."

Malfoy shrugged. "Since you didn't die, I'm sticking with probable."

Harry frowned at him, although they kept walking. "You know I died, right?"

"Come again?"

"I died," Harry repeated. "That was the prophecy. I was the final Horcrux."

Malfoy stopped dead. "You what?"

Harry grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him forward, not wanting to stay too long in the open. "Dumbledore left a message with Snape's memories - long story. That's how I found out Dumbledore was already dying. Anyway, when Voldemort tried to kill me as a baby, he transferred some of his soul onto me. I had to die for him to die. Luckily, it turned out that Dumbledore guessed correctly and Voldemort only killed the part of me that was him, if that makes sense."

"Mother was there," Malfoy said quietly, looking stunned. "She never said. I thought you'd faked it."

Harry realised that Malfoy really had no idea what Narcissa had done for Harry. Harry supposed it wasn't his place to tell Malfoy.

"Well, it was all a bit confusing," Harry said dismissively. "I can understand that she got a bit distracted by more important things."

Malfoy snorted. "You would say that, you bloody golden boy," he said, although there was no real bite in the words. "I can't believe you took the risk that Dumbledore guessed right and that you wouldn't die. All that hero stuff really went to your head, didn't it?"

This time Harry stopped. He was all for dismissing the entire uncomfortable subject, but not if Malfoy was going to assume it had all been a crazy attempt to be the ultimate hero. "I didn't know," he said. "I only found out about Dumbledore's guess after it was all over. The only reason it worked is because I gave myself up as a sacrifice, believing that I wouldn't come back. Dumbledore was waiting for me, since I was dead and all. We spoke then. I wasn't trying to be a hero. What's the point in playing hero if you're not around to enjoy it? I was just trying to kill Voldemort, and he could never die if the part of his soul that was in me still lived. I had to die."

Malfoy's mouth was slightly open, his face shadowed by moonlight. He started to speak and stopped. "Fuck, Harry," he said finally. He turned around and resumed walking abruptly toward the forest.

Harry sped to catch up. He glanced at Malfoy, but Malfoy refused to look at him.

"Does it know any bloody limits?" Malfoy suddenly spat, after several minutes of silence.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Your insane need to be a martyr," Malfoy clarified, shooting Harry a filthy look. "Does it have a limit? I mean, in school it drove me nuts, since everyone bloody loved you for it. I was utterly convinced you loved the attention. Now I'm forced to consider that you didn't do it for the fame, that you really are that much of a goddamn idiot that your first instinct when faced with danger is to throw yourself into it in the hopes that one of your flailing and dismembered limbs serves as someone's shield."

"It was necessary," Harry argued, trying to keep his voice low. "I didn't have a choice."

"No, you never do!" Malfoy shot back. "It's always you, isn't it? Voldemort's dead and it's still you. Tell me, Harry, months from now am I going to finally be able to go home, only to come back to visit for a weekend and find that you nobly threw yourself in front of a herd of stampeding banshees instead of just pushing people out of the way?"

"Oh, come off it, Draco," Harry spluttered. "You're being stupid, now."

"Am I?" Malfoy spat, a touch hysterically. "Am I, Harry? Or is that just the tiniest bit realistic, considering danger seems to follow you like disaster follows Longbottom? And you clearly don't think well in a crisis."

"I don't do it for fun," Harry shot back, his voice rising. "There's never another choice!"

"There's always another choice!" Malfoy hissed. "Where is your self preservation?! Hex someone! Learn some defensive spells! Can't you understand that sometimes you owe it to the people you leave behind to try a little harder not to go in the first place?"

Malfoy stood watching him, his chest heaving and his eyes crazed.

"Fine," Harry said slowly. "I won't, I don't know, blindly throw myself away as a sacrifice. Not that I was planning to anyway."

"Thank you," Malfoy said forcefully. "You imbecile. Slytherin, my arse. You're a stupid Gryffindor all the way. The worst kind."

Harry felt oddly touched, but was too thankful that Malfoy had stopped talking to mention anything.

They continued walking until they reached a spot that Harry thought might have been where he met Voldemort.

"Start looking," he said, waving to the ground. "It's probably overgrown by now."

They both got down on their hands and knees and began to search.

"Accio, stone of wisdom," Harry said hopefully, but as they had thought, the stone was too powerful to be summoned so easily.

After more than an hour searching several places in the forest, they were forced to concede that it had been a stupid plan. Harry had hoped that the centaurs might show up and he could ask if they knew what had happened to it, but the forest had been distinctly empty.

"Home again," Harry said, heading back toward the gate.

Malfoy nodded and began to follow. Suddenly, he froze. "Did you hear that?" he asked.

Harry stood still, but heard nothing.

Eventually Malfoy shook his head and resumed following. They left the gates and apparated home.