"You know," he accused.
                              
Neville nodded. "Ron and Hermione told me, but I knew it was... something. I knew you were hurting."
                              
He snorted and wanted out of this conversation. "Let me go," he growled.
                              
"I'm not going to leave you alone when you're this bad, Harry. I'm your friend."
                              
"I'm not going back," Harry declared and shakes started back up. "Hermione... she's... they...."
                              
"I won't take you to them, Harry, though they're only worried about you," Neville whispered, his hands were still up.
                              
"She can send me back."
                              
Neville's eyes rose up. He didn't understand, but said, "No one will take you anywhere you don't want to go, Harry."
                              
"Just go, I want to be alone."
                              
"I can't, Harry. It's almost freezing, and you can't Apparate. I can take you wherever you want to go. We can go see Draco."
                              
Harry let out a little sob and nearly dropped to the ground. Fucking hell, Draco was probably going out of his mind with worry. Harry started pacing, back and forth, agitated. His mind going to darker thoughts only entertained when he was this trashed. He shouldn't be a fucking healer. He was such a fucking head case. Draco needed someone better than him. He was healed now, anyway. Any healer could do the physical therapy part.
                              
"No... he doesn't need me," he cried.
                              
"Yes, he does," Neville said, a little forceful. "Draco needs you. He really needs you, as a friend and a healer, Harry."
                              
Harry shook his head. "I don't need him to see me like this. He can't know what happened."
                              
"He already knows, Harry. He told me where... they're buried."
                              
Again, Harry looked at his parents' grave, surprised that Draco had known... or remembered that. But Draco knew... and it was all for nothing. He took another long drink. Neville stepped forward, and Harry sent out a repelling hex to push him back, but it too was deflected off him.
                              
"I won't come any closer. Harry, calm down... please give me the bottle. You're pissed enough."
                              
"Obviously, not," he drawled and took another drink. Blackout sounded good to him. He didn't even care if it was here.
                              
"Please?" Neville asked, and then Harry noticed his hands were still in the air.
                              
He was thoroughly tossed, but his brain wasn't completely idled. He looked around, suspiciously, and muttered, "Where's your wand?"
                              
Neville grimaced. "It's in my pocket."
                              
"Who else is here?" he growled, shaking and swaying drunkenly. "That spell was blocked with a Shield Charm."
                              
Neville nodded, a bit impressed at his inebriated deduction. "It's my boyfriend. You can trust him. We did sneak up on you, and he was worried that you might... be agitated."
                              
He was right, too, Harry thought. He didn't like other people around him and was looking around for him.
                              
"He's disillusioned right, now. I can ask him to leave, if you want."
                              
Harry did want that, but what Neville said finally registered. "Boyfriend?"
                              
"Yeah... boyfriend. We've been together for a few years."
                              
"You're gay?"
                              
"Yeah, I've always known."
                              
Harry grimaced. "You never said... anything...."