Post-peace Chaos (Drarry)

Chapter 13

[Harry]

Harry grabbed a handful of floo powder with a six-pack in his other hand.

"Bye, love!"

"Have fun!"

He could finally use floo powder to travel since Ron would be expecting him. He was immensely grateful he wasn't rude enough to barge into their fireplace unannounced the two previous times.

Bracing himself, he yelled their address and flung his hand toward the fireplace. Seconds later, he was sliding out of the Granger-Weasley's emerald flames.

"About time, mate!"

Harry grinned at him and unscrewed one of the beers he brought. He handed another one to Ron.

"To Thursday Drinks' Night!" They toasted in unison.

Harry had longed for this day since Auror Travailler, his trainer, piled a gigantic workload onto his hands. He had been working his arse off for three days. He finally signed the last piece of parchment and was ready for a celebration.

"Hello, Harry!"

Harry nearly choked on his beer.

"Her- gah- mione?"

"'Mione's got a day off today. Thought she would join."

"Oh," Harry said. "But I thought S.P.E.W. was busiest on Thursday?"

"Just thought I would take some time off work today," she said, waving a hand.

Harry shot a suspicious glance at her. She never took time off work. She rarely even used her vacation quota.

"Wine?" She asked, holding two bottles in her hand.

"I told you, 'Mione, we got beer!" Ron said thickly, with his mouth full of crisps.

Hermione rolled her eyes and muttered 'boys' while pouring herself a glass of white.

Harry figured something was up, but Ron still chatted on animatedly as usual. "-and then George thought of Frizzy-hair Fizz Drinks, and oh, it was hilarious, Neville came running to us during lunch because one of the seventh years dosed his drink with it-" He paused to cackle- "He looked like a male version of Trelawney!"

It would be one of the most hilarious stories to hear if Hemione hadn't been piercing through him with her eyes the whole time. He managed to howl with laughter on cue.

Ron finally caught his breath and popped open his second beer. "So, Harry, anything new? Auror training fine?"

"Travailler dumped a bunch of paperwork on me again," Harry sighed. "I'm dying to get to the practical course. I heard third year's practical is awesome- even more exciting than first and second," Harry continued on excitedly.

"From what I've heard from you, I could never manage even your first year's paperwork," Ron said. "I'm much happier at the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, thank you very much." They both saluted their bottles.

Hemione, who had remained silent till then, piped up. "Well, other than work, is there anything new? Harry?"

Harry squinted at her. "Um... not much. Gin and I are arranging the divorce though," he said.

Apparently, that wasn't the answer she was looking for. Harry built up a mental defense, trying to reply as carefully as possible. "I see... did you talk after last Saturday? Did she say anything?"

"Not much, considering she's the one that came out for me," Harry replied with extreme caution. Ron stifled a laugh.

"Not even... when you met a guy?"

Harry blinked. "Come- come again?"

"You met a guy, didn't you?"

"No," Harry replied flatly. It was kind of true, he didn't meet the guy, he already knew him... but how did they know? He decided to still stand his firm ground. He won't cough up information they didn't know yet- one thing he learned from Auror training.

"Harry, don't lie to me, I know you met a guy," Hermione said.

"And why is that?" Harry shot back.

"Ron figured it out," Hermione said simply.

Harry whipped his head around to see Ron admiring his shoes. The couple was blushing for some reason.

"Fine," he said curtly, leaning back on the couch. He crossed his arms and legs for effect.

"Yes, I kind of met someone, but it wasn't some a blind date or some stupid romantic rubbish, it was just a coincidence. I, however, will not give any further information because this is my personal life, and in case you haven't noticed, I wasn't ready to tell you that. As my best friends, it's slightly crappy of you two to dig around like that. I thought you knew about this kind of stuff first-hand." Harry was looking at both of them directly.

Ron chose to speak up first. "Blimey, Harry, sorry... I never thought about it like that. That Skeeter cow is already awful enough."

Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry, too, Harry... we just got caught up in the moment, I swear... you can tell us whenever you want to, Harry."

Harry sighed. "Thanks." He chugged down the remains of his first bottle. He pondered for a moment.

"I have a question though," Harry said.

"Yeah?"

"If you knew I was gay, why didn't you stop me from dating your sister? Or why didn't you tell me to stop crushing on Malfoy- WHICH I still refuse to admit to, for your information- now coming to think of it? You guys hate Malfoy!"

"Oh yeah, I hated him, of course," Ron let out a laugh. "But 'Mione here forced me to get a grip. Still. Didn't stop me from scowling at him or hexing him," he grinned.

"As for my sister- we both thought you were crushing on Malfoy- until Cho. Well, at least for me, because I didn't believe the 'wet' theory back then. She was especially hung up on you two during sixth year, you were obsessing with him every waking hour." Ron laughed again. "She didn't give up until you started staring at my sister's dot on that map during seventh year like a freak."

"I wonder how Malfoy's doing now, though," mused Hermione, out loud. "We haven't seen him since our truce."

Harry tried to suppress a blazing blush as he recalled the scene right after the war. They were sitting on one of the marble staircases inside of Hogwarts, away from the lifeless bodies at the Great Hall.

He remembered hearing footsteps and saw Malfoy and Goyle. Harry immediately stood and stuck out his hand, grasping Malfoy's firmly. Malfoy looked shocked but gripped his hand, too. The five of them took turns to shake hands, exchanging firm nods. It was unspoken, unofficial, but understood. The trio didn't bother to look for anyone else to call a truce, though. They all agreed that Pansy Parkinson was still a slimy pug-face.

"I reckon he's not doing too bad. Harry stopped the Ministry from taking away their fortune, dinnit?"

"Yeah," he said, looking down at his empty beer bottle.

Ron stretched lazily on his couch. He had already drained three bottles. "Hey, did I tell you about the Frizzy-hair Fizz Drinks?" He slurred slightly. "Oh, it's hila-EH-rious, ha ha ha ha..."

Ron belched loudly as Hermione snatched the fourth bottle he unscrewed from his hand.

---

~Friday~

The divorce papers sent by the Ministry of Magic came the day before his wife's departure. The files came roaring through their fireplace as the green flames came to life. Ginny bent to pick up the loosely bound papers and smoothed them out neatly.

Together, they signed their names. The magical document became immediately into effect.

They were still holding each other long after the ink had dried, whispering 'I love you' into one another's ear repeatedly as many times as they could.