Disclaimers: Most everyone here belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Happy birthday, Rosa!

by Lesa Soja

"Harry," and darkness, drifting through the clouds, he was warm, and a hand on his shoulder, not shaking, just holding. "Harry." He opened his eyes.

"Ollie!" he said.

Oliver grinned. "Remember me still, then, do you?"

"You've been gone seven terms," Harry said. "I think my memory can stretch back that far."

"So I see," Oliver said. His smile grew quieter, and sweeter.

Harry sat up in bed to look at him. Oliver's hair was a bit longer, and there were new lines around his mouth. But his eyes hadn't changed. "You look the same," Harry said. Then he glanced at the handle cradled in the crook of Oliver's arm. "You've got a new broomstick!"

"An Immaculatus Six Hundred," Oliver said. "Care to come for a spin?"

Harry didn't bother getting dressed, just pulled his robe and cloak on over his pajamas and climbed on behind Oliver. Oliver pushed off the window sill and pulled the top of the broomstick up. The towers of Hogwarts fell away beneath them.

"It rides like a dream," Harry said. The January air stung his face.

"It's quite good," Oliver said. "I like it."

"Remember when you first started training me to fly? I had that Nimbus Two Thousand."

"You didn't need much teaching."

Harry laughed. "We miss you on the team."

"Well, I'm sure Heather's doing a fine job as captain."

"Oh, of course, she is," Harry said. "We just - miss you. I miss you."

Oliver's stomach tightened under Harry's arms.

"Have you given any thought to what you're going to do when you leave school?" he said after a moment.

"I'm not sure," Harry said.

"You've not got much longer. Just one more term."

"I know. And I have been thinking about it, really. Dumbledore's talked to me lots of times, and Sirius, too. I just haven't found the right thing yet."

"Right," Oliver said.

They shot steadily on across the snow-covered forest.

"Maybe," Oliver said suddenly, "you'll end up somewhere near Glasgow someday."

"I might," Harry said. "I might."

The broom swooped up towards the crescent moon. Harry laid his cheek against the back of Oliver's shoulder and held on tight.