On The Wings of A Dragon

2. Elation

Harry Potter was elated.  

Tired but elated.  The war was over.  Voldemort was just a pile of bones, and now the world could go back to the way it was, before the maniac had come into their lives.  Elation at the feeling of, now he could focus on living instead of trying to survive.  It's all he had been doing since entering the wizarding world, and if he were honest with himself, it was a welcome change.  Tired, because before the battle, he hadn't slept for almost three days.  His whole body had been running on pure adrenalin.  

And now it was over.  No more death, no more heart break, and no more fighting.  He had lost so much, everyone had, but now it was time to make repairs.  To rebuild.  Homes, relationships, Hogwarts.  Everything needed repair.  And there would be a time when he knew he would have to rest, in order to be able to fight yet again, but he would cross that bridge when he got to it.  For now, he was going to work hard at fixing what had been damaged.  And he was going to start with himself.

Harry had let go of all the negative feelings that he had held onto for so long, one of them was because he had been abused.  No he wouldn't forget it, but he could not let it define him.  The Dursleys would get their share of karma, even though he knew in his heart that he wouldn't be the one to exact revenge on anyone.  But if there was a god, and according to the muggles, there was, he was sure their lives were going to be anything but pleasant from now on, and he was okay with that.

He had optic nerve surgery done to his eyes to repair the damage done by the first killing curse sent his way, and now wore lenses only when his eyes were tired and strained.  No more glasses on wire frames for him.  He had started eating more healthy, and began an exercise regime in his basement.  He had a treadmill, a boxing bag, weights, and what not, so when he was feeling overwhelmed, he worked up a sweat.  And it was gratifying that he got to hit something that couldn't hit him back, and tone up his body in the process.

He went for tattoos and had his left ear pierced.  He remembered when he had taken a walk one day, feeling lost and alone.  It was shortly after the war, he had looked at a muggle man wearing one, and thought it looked good on him.  He made his way to the nearest jewelry store and asked the lady to please pierce his ear.  He saw that there was a bed to where she was leading him, and decided not to pay that any attention, only to find out that it was used for when they did tattoos.

She took him into a back room, where there was another bed, sterilized his ear, took out some silver gun contraption and told him to sit still.  "There will be a noise", she said kindly.

There was indeed a loud and sharp clapping noise in his ear, but Harry had held firm.  When she smiled at him and told him that she was done, he stood up and admired her work in the mirror.  She had put a silver lightning bolt in his ear, and he smirked at the similarity of the scar that was on his forehead.  

She had told him to come back any time, she would kindly pierce his other ear.  She introduced herself as Kat.  He thought after a while, that it looked great.  It suited him.  She told him how keep it clean, and to come back if he ever wanted anything else.  He had been back many times after that for more piercings and tattoos.  

The days and nights passed in a blur, and Harry was always busy.  He kept himself working, doing things that he never thought he would do ever again.  Working in the garden.  Fixing an old bike, painting the outside of his house.  Running on the beach.  Renovating the rooms at 12 Grimmauld Place.  He stayed busy, and in the evenings he would make himself something to eat, and collapse into bed, exhausted.

Until one day, when he woke up and saw that the Daily Prophet had landed in his lounge.  He could still recall the headline.  MALFOY HEIR TRIAL STARTS TODAY.  Harry felt a lot of things when he read those words.  Pissed off was one of them, misunderstanding another.  Pity, sorrow, hate and guilt, they all surfaced at the same time, and he didn't know which one he should pay attention to.  Slowing his breathing, he concentrated on one thing only.  Making his decision, he showered, got dressed and made his way towards the court house.  It was going to be one hell of a day.

When it was over, he breathed a sigh of relief.  Defending Draco Malfoy had been the right thing to do, and it wasn't as if the decision had come easy.  He had been struggling with what to say to the Wizengamot, but when the time came, the words just spewed out of his mouth as if they had been there for too long.  

Like he was vomiting, but it was good vomit.  When he had looked at the Slytherin prince, he thought he saw him smile, but it could have been a grimace or a smirk.  

Now, after all these months, he felt elation again.  In his hands, he was holding a letter, and it couldn't have come at a better time.  He had done what he needed to, his house starting to feel like a home, his garden beautiful, in all it's colorful glory, his body well muscled and toned from his daily routine, the motorbike well oiled and willing to take him wherever he wanted to go.  He was being asked a favor.  And he was elated, because not only was it him being asked, but because of who was asking for it.

Dear Mr Potter

Please, I need your help to save Draco.

Regards

Narcissa Malfoy