What If? - Drarry

Chapter Six

"Here's to never having to attend a hearing again!" Neville yelled, a little drunkenly. "Hip hip!"

"Hooray!" Chorused the other DA members. They all sat in the Three Broomsticks, and despite their large circular table, there was only just enough space for everyone. Harry was uncomfortably squashed in between Ginny and Ron. 

It had been Luna's idea to go out for a drink after the last hearing. Most of the members of the DA had seen almost as many court cases as Harry, and now that the very last one was out of the way it was as though a huge weight had been lifted off their shoulders. Hopefully, they could now focus on getting their lives on track and leaving the war behind. Ginny would be returning for her final year at Hogwarts at the end of August. Ron and Hermione had been managing Weasley's Wizard Wheezes because George had barely left his and Fred's old room since the Battle. Neville wanted to be a teacher and had already started training, and Luna had joined her father in writing the Quibbler full time. It seemed they all had a plan - or at least knew their next steps. Harry took a big gulp of his firewhisky, enjoying the burning sensation in his stomach. He had no idea what he was going to do. He didn't even know where to start.

The door banged open, and the DA members at the table jumped, whipping around to face the sound. It was Dean and Seamus, late as usual. Everyone relaxed, even laughed a little, and stood to greet them, squeezing up even more to make space for them. Harry, realizing that he had his wand out and pointing at the new arrivals, turned red and quickly hid it in his pocket. Ron, noticing, nodded.

"I do that too. Don't even realise. A car exhaust popped outside the shop yesterday and before I knew it, Hermione and I were hiding behind the counter and grabbing our wands, like we thought we were being attacked."

"Oh yeah? Glad to know I'm not the only one," Harry grimaced.

"Hermione said that Muggles had a name for it. PTD, or something like that. Hermione?"

"Hm?" She turned from her conversation Neville.

"What did you say muggles called that trauma thing?"

"You mean PTSD?"

"That's the one," Ron smiled, and turned back to Harry. "It happens to lots of people who go through stuff like we did."

"I got it after first year," Ginny said suddenly. Harry hadn't realized she'd been listening. "I used to have nightmares all the time about being possessed or trapped. I get them now, too. So does Harry. I've woken up to him yelling in his sleep before."

Ron looked uncomfortable at the hint at Harry and Ginny's relationship, but didn't mention it. "Me and Hermione get the same. I should think everyone here does, to some extent."

"Feels like the War's still following me around," Harry muttered, staring at his drink. "I just want to forget it ever happened."

"Think we all do, mate," Ron smiled a little sadly. "It'll get better, though."

Harry smiled at him. "Let's hope so."

0o0o

"Aren't you an early riser?" Harry tried to sound cross but couldn't in the face of Teddy Lupin's toothless, dribbly grin. "Loving the red-hair look,  by the way. Very Weasley."

Teddy gurgled happily as Harry lifted him out of his crib and carried him through the messy apartment to the kitchen, where he sat him on the high chair by the table.

"For someone who can't speak, you really talk a lot, don't you?" Harry grinned, tapping Teddy on the nose before turning and looking in the cupboard for baby food. "What are you feeling? I got carrot and pea, and sweet potato, both of which look exactly the same. You know, I think it's a carrot and pea day, don't you?"