The Battle of Hogwarts took place two months after your transfer, and after that, you never received another letter from him.

He was your best friend, the love of your life, and at that moment, you thought you would never see him again — that you had lost him forever, that you would never see him grow up.

It haunted you for countless nights — the ache in your chest, the tears burning in your eyes every time you thought about him leaving for that war. That he had met the same fate as most dark wizards — not because he deserved it, but because his father forced him into it.

But then, five years passed. Five years that flew by.

You finally returned to Great Britain — specifically, to Hogsmeade. You wanted to relive a bit of your good old days and maybe find a job opportunity.

And there you are, standing at the counter of the Three Broomsticks. You ordered a pumpkin juice with cinnamon to go. It was already night, and you urgently needed to find a place to stay. You lowered your head to look for your Galleons in your bag...

“One Firewhisky, please… rough day.”

Someone says. Someone with that incredibly familiar voice — that strong, charming Italian accent. You lift your gaze, and he’s there. Right in front of you. Alive. An adult now. Grown, with a beard and a winter coat.