Disclaimer: Torchwood and Harry Potter do not belong to me.

Author's Note: much thanks to my beta, a. ross. This is a massive au for both Torchwood and Harry Potter. Important things to know: this is au after Goblet of Fire. No horcruxes, no Deathly Hollows. The war lasted for nine years, and was hard fought. This begins during the episode Cyberwoman.

***

Torchwood Three would be the first to admit that they really didn't know all that much about their tea boy, Ianto Jones. They never asked, and he never volunteered, preferring to stay in the shadows. One could even say he had perfected the qualities of his House: hardworking, steadfast, loyal, and above all, quietly providing what was needed before someone had to ask. Had they had full access to his file, they would have been shocked. In point of fact, Jack had barely glanced at it when he had finally agreed to take in the Torchwood One refugee. Even if he had done more than briefly scan it, he would not have seen more than the basic biographical information, and a note mentioning his recruitment at the age of 24 on the recommendation of someone in the government. Perhaps if he had done a more thorough check, he and the rest of his team wouldn't have been so blind-sided at Ianto's act of bringing his half-converted Cyberwoman girlfriend into the Hub. But Jack didn't bother to give Ianto's file more than a cursory look, more intent on wondering if he could get the handsome Welshman to do more than spar with him verbally than inquiring why Ianto would want to continue working for Torchwood. Jack let his surprise and hurt at Ianto's act of betrayal rip through him, and he ordered the man to execute the thing that should have died at Canary Wharf. Only after Ianto had disappeared back into the Hub did Jack calm down enough to realize that Ianto would need help and, more importantly, if he had kept the thing alive and hidden since he had started working at Three, would probably not comply with the order. He signaled for the other members of his team to follow Ianto into the dark, intent on stopping the latest threat to the Earth.

To their great surprise they found Ianto standing over both the Cyberwoman and the pizza girl, gun in hand, the discharge from the gun echoing in the silence.

***

Ianto's hands were covered in blood. He was on his knees, sobbing, panting, covered in blood. His Lisa, his beautiful Lisa, the woman supposed to represent normality, to remind him that life was still beautiful. Now she lay dead, her brain missing, blood soaking his hands, coating the floor.

He jerked as he heard his name. He rose to his feet, gun in his hand automatically. He panted, his mind fracturing as he tried to take in his surroundings. A young girl, claiming to be Lisa. Blood on her head, splattered on her shirt. The smell brought him back to the past: Canary Wharf, with the heat of the fires, the screams of people as they died and were converted. The Final Battle, colors from curses flying overhead, screams, cries, blood, and everything a blur, trying to keep calm - even as he kept his wand in his hand, flinging his own curses at the black-robed, white-masked men and women on the field of battle. Ignoring the cries of the falling and fallen.

In the dungeons being tortured.

At home, his parents dead, cut down before they could even defend themselves. His sister screaming under the cruciatus ; his brother crying out as the Death Eaters cast reducto and bone crushing and flesh eating and cutting curses. Being held, forced to watch, a Death Eater telling him in exquisite detail what they have planned for him.

He fired as she advanced, tuning out her words, his surroundings as his finger pulled and pulled and pulled and she jerked backwards, blood erupting on her torso. Unaware of what was happening. Just kept pulling the trigger.

Hands on his, pulling the gun from him, pulling him away from the bodies. Vague awareness as Gwen and Tosh lead him back to the main area of the Hub. Warm water on his hands, soap cleansing the blood. Nothing made sense to him. Someone led him to a chair, pushed him down. He sat.

He felt the heat of someone's body next to him, grasping his hands. "Ianto, Ianto. Look at me. Focus on me. Come on," a voice came to to him, muffled.

He focused his tired blue eyes on the face swimming before him. Jack. Captain Jack Harkness, leader of Torchwood Three. How he had acted in front of the man, throwing himself at the charismatic Captain, determined to pique his interest just enough to get hired, all to help Lisa. Lisa, who now lay dead, who tried to kill him, and convert Gwen, and kill Jack and everyone else, and oh Merlin! What had he done?

"You with me, Ianto?" Jack asked, as he saw awareness returning to the young Welshman's eyes. Ianto found himself nodding, even as he tried to bite down the moan of horror at what he had done. "Good. Tosh and I are going to bring you home. We'll talk tomorrow about what is going to happen to you." Jack was angry; angry at what happened, angry that they all almost died... angry that Ianto had fooled him to such an extent. And yet, he couldn't help but be impressed at all the man had accomplished in trying to save his girlfriend. He didn't show it, but he was surprised that Ianto had followed through on his order, shooting and killing Lisa. He would have to think on what that meant. It might be enough to keep him around.

Jack ordered Owen and Gwen to begin the clean up, before grabbing Ianto by the arm and dragging him to the garage where Tosh already waited, ready to bring Ianto to his flat.

Ianto docilely sat and buckled his seat-belt. His mind replayed the night's events, numb with shock. As they drove, he recognized his neighborhood. He wondered how Jack knew where he lived; he didn't think he had ever put it in his file, but then he was no longer entirely sure what was and wasn't in the file that made it to Cardiff. Dimly, he realized he was in shock; that he hadn't felt like this since Canary Wharf.

He exited the SUV when they pulled to a stop in front of his building. He automatically pulled out his keys to open the door, but his hands shook too much to actually use them. Tosh took them from him and opened the door. They led him in, but he shrugged the helping hands off of him. He walked towards his bedroom, toeing off his shoes, undoing his tie, and getting rid of his suit jacket, letting them drop to the floor, all the while ignoring Jack and Tosh. He heard Jack rummaging around, and turned to see him gathering the gun he kept in his flat, as well as whatever else Jack deemed dangerous. A part of him wondered how Jack even knew where he kept his spare sidearm. The other part was vaguely amused that Jack considered him a suicide risk.

If all that had happened to him during the war hadn't led him to commit suicide, he wasn't going over the edge now.

"I'm going to take a shower," he informed them, before retreating into his bedroom. As he passed his stereo system, he paused long enough to put in some Tchaikovsky. He turned the volume up loud, loud enough to drown out the sobbing he knew would make an appearance while he bathed. His remaining clothes fell to the wayside, as he turned on the shower and stepped in, adjusting the temperature as needed. He let the water pound on him, used soap to clean his body; scrubbing and scrubbing, trying to wash the blood away. Tears intermingled with the water as he sobbed his pain away. He fell against the wall, letting it take his weight. Merlin! Lisa was dead. He had killed her. He had killed again, after he had sworn never to do so again after the Final Battle.

Time passed as he gave vent to his emotions. The water grew cold, but only when he started shivering did he actually get out. He didn't want to give Jack an excuse to come and find him. He dried himself roughly, ignoring as he usually did, the marks on his body. Scars, faint and not so faint, most from before he started working at Torchwood - though he had his fair share from there as well. Three tattoos: one the emblem of the squad he had fought with during the war; the second, his family's coat of arms, with its motto in Welsh; lastly runes of protection and strength, a last resort if all else failed, inked towards the end of the war when all of them realized that as rough as the war had been, it was getting rougher and they all needed every last last little advantage obscure magic could give them.

Ianto clothed himself, having enough presence of mind to make sure his markings did not show. No questions about his past, not tonight. He couldn't deal with those memories, not after all the events of the night. He turned off the music as he left his bedroom, wondering where in his flat Jack and Tosh had hidden themselves, surprised that one of them wasn't waiting for him in the bedroom. Not that he cared. All he wanted was to crawl into bed with a vial of Dreamless Sleep, and not dream or think of what had happened. All his dreams were gone, vanished like wisps of smoke.

Tosh appeared in the living room, a cup in her hand. "Ianto, I brewed you a cuppa," she told him hesitantly, proffering the cup towards him, as if a mere cup of tea could cure his ills, or keep him calm. He didn't like how wary she appeared, but then, he had almost gotten her killed, so perhaps her behavior shouldn't surprise him. None of the members of Three knew him well enough to know how he would react. He supposed he had only himself to blame for that. So intent on saving Lisa, he had ignored their invitations to socialize with them. He closed his eyes. Merlin, what a mess.

"Thank you," he replied softly, manners forcing him to automatically take it. He let it warm his hands, not wanting to drink it. He didn't think he could keep anything down.

Jack appeared next to her. "I'm going to head back to the Hub, unless you needed me for something," he told them. He stared at Ianto, noticing how pale and shaky the other man appeared. He looked like he was in shock, and Jack thought he could understand why. He just hoped Ianto wouldn't give up, not after this. That he had managed to bring - and conceal for months - a half-converted cyberwoman into the Hub, meant that Jack had seriously underestimated the man. Not something that happened very often, and Jack wondered what else Ianto could offer Torchwood. He exchanged a look with Tosh, confirming the orders he had already given to her while Ianto took his shower. He wanted her to monitor Ianto, to make sure he didn't do anything permanent to himself. Jack thought he had found all the dangerous things that Ianto could use, but it didn't hurt to be careful, especially given how resourceful Ianto had already proven himself. Ianto ignored him; Tosh nodded, indicating she had heard his silent message. Jack sighed as he left. God! What a fucking disaster.

***

After Jack left, Tosh sat with Ianto, offering silent comfort. Despite it all, she liked Ianto, and a part of her understood why he did what he had. She did feel a certain degree of envy that he had loved someone so much to risk everything, all on the off chance he could save her. She wondered if she would ever find someone willing to risk the world for her. She sighed as she saw the tea growing cold in its cup. Ianto was in shock and didn't seem aware of what went on around him.

"Hey, can I get you anything?" she asked, not wanting to push herself on him, but also wanting him to realize that she would listen to him if he wanted to unburden himself on her. Ianto appeared lost in thoughts, memories she couldn't even imagine. He was so quiet, so competent and had integrated so seamlessly with Three, that she had forgotten he was one of only twenty-seven survivors from Canary Wharf. She had forgotten that Jack hadn't recruited him, bringing him in after scouting out the best way to do so, like he had done for her and Owen and even Gwen. Instead, Ianto had practically stalked the Captain. She remembered how she and Suzie had laughed at the tactics Ianto had used. It had surprised all of them when Jack had announced he had hired Ianto. She was a bit ashamed that she had thought Jack had hired Ianto because of the attraction both had towards the other, but then Ianto would not have been the first to sleep with the boss to get a job. She suspected that far from sleeping with Jack, Ianto had merely flirted, just enough to gain and keep his interest, without actually following through on any of the wicked promises.

Ianto had quickly proven his capability, though. And while he remained a private man, she had liked him considering him a friend, even as he gently turned down all her overtures. She felt ashamed that she had never even asked how he had survived Canary Wharf, or whether he wanted to talk to someone about it. She had assumed that because he did not want to discuss it, he was over it. But then, if he had devoted all his attention to saving Lisa, the disaster at Canary Wharf must have been pushed to the back of his mind.

Her voice seemed to snap Ianto out of the daze into which he had sunk since Jack had walked out. "I'm off to bed," he told her, escaping into his bedroom. He didn't want to see her sympathetic eyes, urging him to talk about what had happened. Nor did he want to explore his feelings on what had happened. He had killed his girlfriend, risked the world on the off chance he could save her, and instead almost brought death and destruction to those who taken him in after the disaster that was Canary Wharf. He was confused and tired and too emotional to think straight right now. Moving slowly so as to not alert her to what he was doing, he opened a drawer, grasping the vial that laid within. Its lilac color glowed in the dim light, streaming in from the street lamps through the windows. He uncapped it after crawling into bed. He downed it in one go, while grimacing at the taste. He had enough time to push the vial under his pillow before the Dreamless Sleep took effect. He didn't want to dream, not tonight.

***

Ianto woke. He felt fuzzy and wondered if it was because of overindulgence before he remembered all that happened the day before. He moaned in pain. It was enough to bring Tosh to him. She held him as he cried. He wept for Lisa, wept for the poor pizza girl, who had no idea when she came to deliver pizzas that she would not leave. He sobbed his pain, and his hurt into her lap, crying for those friends dead and gone from One. The pain welled up within him, and he started to choke on the sobs, hyperventilating as he let loose the feelings he had bottled up since that day on One Canada Square. They were all gone, his friends, the people who had helped him remember what life was after the war had ended, and he had fled the wizarding world. Merlin! His life was a fucking mess.

It took a while for Ianto to calm down, but Tosh didn't complain. She was just happy Ianto had finally felt enough to cry. His emotionless mask the previous night, the way he had ignored everyone before going to bed had bothered her. He needed time to heal and she hoped Jack would give it to him. Of course, Jack could always decide to Retcon Ianto, and she rather thought Owen would push for that solution. But Retcon only worked at covering up the conscious memories and not the unconscious. Ianto, quiet, efficient Ianto, who none of them even attempted to get to know, should not have to suffer the loss of memories. She already told Jack her opinion on it, backed by the fact that Ianto had followed through on Jack's order, and killed the one he had tried to save. That had to count for something.

***

Jack didn't know what to expect when he arrived at Ianto's door. The other man had been catatonic - or near to it - by the time he had left the night before. Since Tosh had not called him, he assumed Ianto had not tried anything. Frankly, he didn't know what to think about his employee. He would never have thought Ianto capable of bringing into the Hub and hiding successfully for months, a half-converted cyberwoman. As much as it angered him, he also felt a certain degree of pride. No one had managed to bamboozle him in years. And, as both Tosh - and surprisingly Owen - had pointed out to him, Ianto had followed his order. Jack hadn't expected that.

The Future Operations Committee had telephoned him early this morning. They had ordered him not to shoot, imprison or Retcon Ianto. Instead, they suggested a four-week suspension - longer if it made Jack felt it necessary. He didn't really care about the punishment, not really, though he was happy they didn't want him to kill Ianto. Jack didn't know if he would have listened. No, all Jack wanted to know was how the hell they had found out about Ianto's actions. He had questioned Owen and Gwen, and it turned out that Gwen had opted to follow procedure and called it in, last night whilst he and Tosh had brought Ianto home.

"Why did you do that, Gwen?" he had asked. "They might have told me to go ahead and execute him."

She had just looked a bit shamefaced, but her eyes held a glint of stubbornness that Jack was slowly growing used to seeing in his newest agent. "I thought we should call it in," she had insisted. Owen had just shook his head. Surprisingly - or maybe not, given Owen's own history - the doctor had a great deal of sympathy for Ianto. And, as he pointed out, Ianto had complied with Jack's order to kill the Cyberwoman.

"This is my base, Gwen Cooper. You don't call things into FOC unless I tell you to." She had just looked at him, with her big eyes.

"I nearly died, Jack. We all nearly died. And that poor pizza girl did. I was only trying to do the right thing."

Jack had left before he said or did something he would probably regret. And so, now, he stood before Ianto's door, just wondering what he would say. How Ianto felt; what Ianto wanted.

In the end, Ianto agreed to the suspension. Jack asked him if he wanted someone to stay with him. Ianto just looked at him blankly. "No, that's alright. I'm going to London. Have some friends and family to visit."

While not happy that Ianto would be outside of Cardiff during part of his suspension, Jack did feel grateful that Ianto had some people he could go to for support. "Just give me a call, every other day. If I don't hear from you, I won't be happy," he warned. Ianto merely nodded, before making it quite clear that both Jack and Tosh should leave his flat.

"Let me know if you need anything, Ianto," Tosh told him. She embraced him, as he assured her he would call if he needed anything. Jack didn't think he would.

***

Ianto closed the door after Jack and Tosh, and stumbled to the kitchen. He needed a calming potion; unfortunately, he didn't have one on hand. He did, however, have the ingredient for a tisane that would work just as well. Truthfully, Ianto had not expected the suspension. Still, he welcomed the forced time off, welcomed not having to return to Torchwood for a month. Hopefully, by the time he returned to work, the initial shock and numbness of Lisa's death would have passed.

Hands moved automatically, as he carefully prepared the ingredients for the tisane. The water in the kettle boiled, and he poured it over the herbs and other ingredients. He brought the mug to his nose, inhaling the aroma. It brought back memories - none really pleasant - of the war, when sometimes a calming tisane had meant the difference between hysteria and numb acceptance. Habit, more than anything, had resulted in him keeping the ingredients for the drink in his flat. He had locked away so much of his life from before Torchwood, not wanting to remember the pain and horrors of the wizarding world. He had a few potions - mostly medicinal ones, like the Dreamless Sleep he had taken the night before - but for the most part, he lived as a muggle. Except for once a month, Ianto had not ventured into the wizarding world since his wounds from the Last Battle had healed, and he had accepted the job offer from MI-7 to work for Torchwood. He actually liked living as a muggle, and more importantly, it kept him away from the memories.

Except, now he had equally as bad memories as he had of the wizarding world. It seemed as if even the non-magical life he had carved out for himself, could not let him have peace. Granted, he had known going into Torchwood that a certain amount of danger existed, but he had assumed he would live a far more normal life than if he had remained in the wizarding world. He had experienced far too much pain and sorrow to simply accept the job the Ministry of Magic had offered him. He had given too much to the war to even begin to rebuild. Maybe a sign of cowardice, but Ianto had needed to leave before he became consumed. His squad mates had understood, mostly because he had woken most of them at night with the screams of his nightmares. Besides, the Ministry had been more than pleased to finally get a wizard into Torchwood.

The tisane did its work, and Ianto felt a degree of artificial calm settle upon him. It would do. He sighed as he moved into the spare bedroom, a room full of boxes and other knickknacks that represented the hopes that now lay in ashes. He didn't know if he had the strength to go through them. He stared at the boxes for a moment, before he quietly exits the room, and shuts the door behind him. Not today. Maybe tomorrow, or next week, or next year. But not today. Not when the pain still roiled through him, not when he could still see and feel and hear the events of the night before. He wanted to remember Lisa as the girl he fell in love with, the woman who helped him to forget the horrors of the war, not the half-converted… thing she became.

Wandering through his flat, he considered his options. Unknown to Torchwood - or at least he thought so - he spent one day each month in London, visiting his sister, a permanent resident of St. Mungos. Given his suspension, he might as well take the trip up there early this month. Not that Ceridwyn would care if he came early; the Death Eaters had taken care of that, over ten years ago. He hated seeing his sister just sitting there, unknowing and uncaring of who and where she was. Despite the many victims, no Healer had yet to find a cure for extended exposure to the cruciatus. So Ceri stayed at St. Mungos, expertly cared for, and Ianto made his monthly visit as he could.

He gathered some items to take with him - colored pencils, a pad of paper, some chocolate - and grabbed his wand and coat. He looked outside his window, and noted that Jack had not - to his surprise - left someone to watch over him. It made his life easier. After locking up, Ianto made his way to the public floo, located in a small pub three blocks away. The bartender waved hello, well-used to Ianto's habit of flooing from here to St. Mungos. Ianto was just happy he didn't feel the need to chat today. He didn't think he could keep his end of a conversation up. Throwing a handful of the floo powder into the waiting fireplace, Ianto headed out.

***

Visiting Ceri didn't change, no matter what day, or time he went. He tried to go when he had the least chance of running into those he might know. Cowardly of him, perhaps, but Ianto had cut himself off from the men and women he had lived and fought with for ten long years. He had craved normality, had craved peace. He didn't want the reminders of the war around him. He visited Ceri because if he did not, she would have no one. The rest of his family - save some distant cousins - had died in the war. More than that, Ianto loved his sister. It hurt him to see her like this, and the only comfort he had was that the ones responsible for her condition were dead.

"Hi Ceri," he greeted her. She stared at him blankly. He smiled at her, gently. "I brought you some things to draw with," he continued. He prattled on about common thing, nothing too important. The Healers didn't know if anything he said penetrated the deep fog in which her mind rested, but he didn't mind. Talking to her, even without responses from her, always made him feel better.

"She's dead," he whispered, holding Ceri's hand in his. "My Lisa. I killed her. But then, Jack said she was already dead, killed at Canary Wharf." Tears fell down his cheeks. "I don't know, Ceri. I really don't." Ceri remained silent. Ianto sighed, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping his face clear. "It will be okay, Ceri. Somehow." He didn't know why he told her any of this - or even who he was reassuring.

He stood from where he sat, and smiled sadly down at his sister. Already, she had opened the pencils he had brought for her and had begun to draw on the tablet. The Healers swore that his visits made her happy, but he couldn't tell. "Good bye, Ceri," he finally said. "I'll see you soon."

He stopped by the Healer's station on his way out. "Have a nice visit, Mr. Jones?" Healer Smythe asked.

"Yeah. I gave her some more pencils," he informed the Healer. Not that it mattered. Healer Smythe seemed to understand though, as he got a sympathetic look in his eye and smiled softly.

"Will we see you in a month?"

Ianto shrugged. "Maybe sooner." He didn't know. With the suspension, he would have free time, something he normally didn't have. Visiting Ceri more often was a nice way to break up the monotony of his day, and also served to remind him that his life could be a lot worse.

***

"Ianto Jones! Is that you?" a female voice sounded behind him. Ianto turned around and looked to see who had called him. "Oh! It is you!" and he got swept up into a hug. His arms automatically closed around the woman currently attempting to squeeze the life out of him. He inhaled the scent of her hair, and he was taken back to the past in a moment. He squeezed his eyes shut. Susan Bones, fellow Hufflepuff, and more importantly, one of his surviving squad mates. He didn't know if he could deal with her, but then, he didn't have much of a choice, did he?

"Merlin! We were beginning to think you were dead," she chastised, pulling back and looking at him fiercely. Ianto found himself blushing.

"Sorry," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

"Well, no matter. Do you have time to have some lunch?"

Inwardly, Ianto frowned, he had no desire to socialize, no desire to pretend everything in his life was okay. Of course, Susan was also one of the few people who could tell when he dissembled - he doubted he could fool her, even with not seeing her for three years - and so any subterfuge on his part would not be accepted. But maybe… maybe he should end his self-imposed exile. What good had come of it? Normality? Torchwood and normal did not go hand-in-hand. He still saw death, still saw friends and colleagues killed or injured by others. Love? Friendship? Lisa was dead, most of his friends from One killed or converted during the battle. That left Three, and with the possible exception of Tosh, he did not really think of any of his current colleagues as friends.

"I think I can manage," he finally said, realizing that he had remained silent a bit longer than polite. Susan didn't say anything, just gave him a sharp look and grabbed his hand.

"Come on, then."

***

Susan dragged Ianto to the Leaky Cauldron. To his surprise, the pub had changed in the three years since he had last passed through it. Light illuminated the previously dark and gloomy space, highlighting the gleaming tables. Instead of Tom behind the bar counter, Ianto recognized an old classmate, and fellow Hufflepuff: one Hannah Abbot. Susan saw his surprised looked and correctly divined what had placed it there. "Hannah took over from Tom, oh about… two years ago. Tom decided he wanted to enjoy the remaining years of his life. The war took a lot from him." Ianto nodded in sympathy; he could understand that desire. The Leaky Cauldron had represented an uneasy sort of no-man's land between the two factions during the war, seeing as it served as one of the main entrances into the wizarding world. Tom had struggled to maintain neutrality, but even he had failed to keep the Death Eaters from attacking his patrons by the end.

Hannah waved hello, and nodded as Susan indicated where they were going to sit. Susan dragged him to a secluded corner, seeming to understand instinctively that Ianto did not want to draw attention to himself. He might have avoided the wizarding world for three years, but he was pretty sure others would recognize him. Hard not to, given the popularity and unwanted fame his squad had received during and after the war. One of a million reasons why he had abandoned the world of his birth.

"It is so good to see you, Ianto," Susan commented. "I'm glad you had the time to have lunch." [

He nodded awkwardly. "I needed to come to Diagon anyway, so it's no bother." He shifted in his seat uneasily as Hannah arrived at their table. Like Susan, she recognized Ianto straight away, and reached over the table to give him a hug.

"Where did Susan find you?" she asked.

"St. Mungos," Ianto replied. He shrugged. "Was visiting my sister, since I have some time off of work."

Hannah made a moue of sympathy. Pretty much everyone in the wizarding world knew what had happened to his sister. "How's she doing?"

"Same as always." Many of the world's best healers and potion masters had searched - and continued to do so - for a cure to overexposure of the cruciatus curse, but as of yet, no one had discovered it. All anyone could do was to make sure that the victims remained comfortable.

"You've been working in the muggle world, right?" Hannah asked.

Ianto nodded. "For one of their government agencies, so I can't really say what I do." He did not want to even start to explain his job at Torchwood; it would take too much time, and touch on topics better left for another day.

"Well, they're working you too hard! You look exhausted, Ianto," Hannah scolded. Ianto smiled at her wanly, conscience of Susan's avid interest as well. He couldn't very well tell her that he had just spent the last three months desperately trying to save his girlfriend, while hiding her from his boss and co-workers, all the while working crazy hours. He was certainly not going to admit that the only reason he slept the night before was because of a damned potion, and that the only reason he wanted to visit Diagon Alley was to replenish his potion stores. No, he did not wish to unburden himself to them this day. Everything that had happened still ached with a close hurt.

So he shrugged and averted his eyes. "I have some time off now," he repeated.

Maybe they read what he didn't want to say in his voice or in his body language, because Hannah asked what they wanted to eat for lunch, and Susan kept the conversation light for the rest of the meal. He appreciated it, more than he could tell them.

"Can I owl you?" Susan asked, before he entered the Alley proper, and she returned to work.

"Of course. I'm probably going to be at the Manor," he told her. He hesitated for a moment. "I miss you - all of you," he confessed. "Just…"

She smiled gently at him. "I know. I'll owl you, and we'll talk." She gave him another hug before walking to the floo. He watched her until she left, and then used his wand to enter Diagon Alley. He had supplies to pick up before heading home.